#all he “did” was not be a terrible person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beomiracles · 1 day ago

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𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 01

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings blood, character death, descriptions of violence/slight gore, implied sexual encounters, womanizer!beomgyu, making out, penetrative sex, public sex, alcohol consumption.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. heh, realised after I hit post that I forgot to add a little note for myself on here. hmm... criminal conscience yes, I missed this series, a lot :3 super happy for it to be back, and better than ever !

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 01 ] — Stay Away From Choi Beomgyu — recording length; 5.9k

📼 — April 5th 2023

It was cold. Your cheeks were wet, and whether that was from the rain pouring down on you, or the endless tears streaming down your face you didn’t know. But it was cold. It was dark too, awfully so. Yet you could clearly make out the image of him, his hunched over figure, his bloody hands moving without even the slightest tremble as they clenched and unclenched into fists. For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out, to touch you.

The way you flinched, taking a quick step backward made him frown. “Dollface..” He tries, his voice uncharacteristically soft, the tension on his face easing up, if just for a moment. But you won’t hear it. Fuck, you could take the drugs, the lying and the cheating…Suppose you never were together in the end, not officially at least. — And you could take it. All of it.

This was different. This was… You glance between the blood on his shirt, down to his bruised knuckles. You knew what he’d done. Something truly unforgiving, something evil, inhumane. Beomgyu was a terrible person. For months you’d let yourself be blindsighted, too caught up on trying to fit him into the life you’d imagined, into a life that would never be his. Because that was not who he was.

You thought things would be different with you. That you somehow stood out from the rest, that maybe… Maybe he wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. But you should’ve known. You should’ve known to stay away from Choi Beomgyu.

“You’re a monster.”

It happens before you can even stop it, the way the words fall from your quivering lips. Your voice is strained with the effort of keeping down another sob, and your breath comes out shaky with each exhale. — He doesn’t look surprised, in fact his expression remains perfectly unreadable, just like it always did. That hurts the most you think.

He takes a step forward, his shoes making a wet noise against the muddy ground. The rain makes his clothes cling to his body, his dark hair matted against his face, shielding his dark eyes from view until he pushes the strands back. — “C’mon dollface, we can work this out.” The once sweet nickname now made you feel sick. Butterflies no longer surged within your stomach, though, you’re not so sure that they ever had.

You shake your head, adamant in your decision as you swallow. “Stay away from me.” Even though your voice is close to cracking it seems to break his trance, and Beomgyu looks confused for the first time. It would’ve been an almost satisfactory sight, had it not been for your current situation. But one quick glance toward the blood smeared all over him makes you want to vomit.

“I never want to see you again.”

And you hoped you never would. With all of your heart and being you wished to never see Choi Beomgyu ever again.

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Hello?”

Your words are followed by a thick silence and after almost twenty seconds you sigh. “Are you calling from downstairs again? You know the connection there is terrible.” Another minute passes, and you listen to the bruising noise of nothing for what feels like forever until Yeonjun’s voice finally breaks through on the device.

“Hello? Oh, there you are!” He sounds almost surprised over the fact that the line seemed to actually be working. “Yes, yes I know I shouldn’t be calling from down here, but the elevator’s broken..” — He clears his throat before rapidly continuing. “Alright, I’ve got someone for you, can you make it down to room 31 in ten?”

The groan passing your lips rings out into your office, bouncing off the walls and surely picking up on the phone despite the shitty connection. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve just barely made it here..” You grumble, yet you’re already rising from your chair, eager to be assigned a case from your senior.

Yeonjun hums and you hear the clicking sound of what you assumed to be a pen. “We’ve kept him detained all night, best to get going quickly so we can move him over this afternoon.” He sounds absentminded when he speaks, as if his attention was elsewhere, likely reading off of the file in his hands. Still, you frown at his words.

“Move him? To where, custody? How do you know we’ll have to do that?” Yeonjun doesn’t answer right away, which was unusual for him, and you pause with your hand on the door handle. — “I think it’s best you just come down here”, he then says, the finalisation in his tone evident. You bite the inside of your cheek, your mind suddenly swimming with questions you longed to ask. But you shrug them off, twisting the handle as you step outside.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

The walk to the basement where the interrogations took place was an even longer one today. With no elevator you’re forced to stumble down four sets of stairs, silently vowing to yourself never to wear heels to work ever again.

Fishing through your pockets, you grab onto the first thing you come across. A small tube of red lipstick, the engravings on its container made your heart skip a beat as you recognized its origin. Oh. You thought you’d gotten rid of that.. But the small cosmetic seemed to have made it during your move not long ago. How odd.

The sound of your heels come to an abrupt halt as you stop to apply the red tint to your lips, using the camera on your far too old phone as a mirror. Despite its long history, the color remained just as bold as it had been when it was brand new. For some reason the revelation made your chest contract. — Screw it, you thought as you pushed the container back into the depths of your pocket. You would make sure to get rid of it on your way home. The past should remain the past, and for good reasons too.

Interrogation room 31 is by the very end of the hall. The lights here had yet to be switched out and some of them flickered in a most uncanny way, setting the scene for something akin to a horror movie. However your worries come to ease when you spot your senior outside the door. Leaning against the wall, Yeonjun pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as his eyes remain glued to the files in front of him.

“Took you long enough”, he huffs without taking his eyes off the clipboard. You raise a threatening fist his way but lower it again with a small grin, “whatever.” Yeonjun cocks an eyebrow your way but doesn’t make an attempt to comment as he instead sighs. — “23 year old male, brought in yesterday around 1am..” He begins, his expression quickly schooling into a more professional one, and you’re instantly reminded of how he used to be when you trained under him.

He flips the paper, eyes dropping as he scans the written documents. “He’s in for first degree murder and attempted arson.” Shit, that’s serious. — “Are there any witnesses?” You ask, interrupting him when your curiosity gets the better of you. Though it would likely be far too soon to determine that. Yeonjun shakes his head, “None have come forward, besides it’s still too early to say.” You nod, heat rising on your cheeks at the small misstep.

“Then, how is he linked to the crime?”

Yeonjun’s eyes snap toward you upon hearing your words, his jaw twitching ever so slightly. “Victim’s DNA on him”, he says as he hands you the file belonging to the victim. Your gaze immediately falls on the number of pictures already gathered from the scene. From the blood covered floorboards to the discarded knife, the bloody bathtub and the victim himself.

“Park Baekhyun”, Yeonjun says as he points to the picture snapped of a man in his mid thirties. He was bruised from head to toe, his limp body awkwardly laid in the full tub. “34, male, cause of death was asphyxiation due to his head being held underwater for an extended period of time.”

Once he’s reached the end of his small debrief, your jaw hangs slack. Whoever did this had no intentions of sparing the poor man. And judging by the way the scene looked, they didn’t seem to ever have.

“Will you be alright with this one?” Your senior’s question pulls your attention from the files in your hand, and you quickly nod. “Of course!” This was your first big case, and there was no way you would back down now, not when an opportunity had presented itself like this.

Yeonjun leans over to unlock the door, his hand on the handle when he turns to you. “Remember I’m always-” — “On the other side of the glass, I know.” You finish with a small smile, and Yeonjun scoffs as he shakes his head.

Interrogation rooms are small, their walls stripped bare and sterile. With no windows and not even a clock to tell the time, the space feels nearly suffocating. A metal table is placed by the center of the room, adorned with scratches and uneven sections from its years of mistreatment. Above it hangs a single fluorescent light, casting the room in an almost clinical glow.

The man before you sits on one of the uncomfortable chairs, his head bowed and his cuffed hands resting on the table. His long dark hair shields his face from view, and you find your own gaze dropping to the files in your hands once more as you slide into the seat opposite him.

You clear your throat, the quietness of the room only amplifying the sound of you swallowing again. “You’re being investigated on the grounds of first degree murder of Park Baekhyun and attempted arson against his property. You have the right to remain silent and or request for an attorney. Keep in mind that anything you say here can be used against you in court.”

Exhale.

With a quick glance toward the thick glass window to your left, you allow yourself a momentary break. No matter how hard you squint, it was impossible to make out anything on the other side. But you knew that Yeonjun was watching, and it made everything ten times more surreal. — When you notice that the suspect has yet to speak, you turn your attention back to him.

He remains in front of you, with his head bowed as his fingers absentmindedly tap against the cool metal table. Your breath catches in your throat when you survey the dark rings adorning almost each and every one of his fingers, they looked oddly familiar. But before you have time to ponder the matter further, he lifts his gaze.

His dark hair falls from his face, making his equally dark eyes meet yours, instantly they seize you with a look you knew all too well. The persistent tapping of his fingers come to an abrupt halt as his lips curl into a menacing smirk, the one that used to make your stomach twist. In that moment, you knew that he knew. Still, you deny it, hands fervently flipping the files as you replace the victim’s with his.

Your heart plummets through the floor when your eyes land on the name, and suddenly it all makes sense. He was bound to end up in this room one day, you knew that, you had known that for a long time. You just… Had never imagined to be the one on the other side.

His smirk only widens, exposing the sharp and shiny teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. A breathy laugh rumbles within his chest, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not once. He exhales with a short breath:

“Dollface. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

The pet name makes an ice cold shiver crawl up your spine. You push down the insults waiting on your tongue, the months of resentment and the anger. Inhaling slowly, you remain perfectly still. He studies you close, dark eyes narrowing as he tilts his head to the side. It was as if he was trying to calculate your next move, you knew that he could.

“Beomgyu.” The name tastes foul in your mouth, making you want to spit it out. You thought you’d left him behind, left him for good. For ten months you had tried to recover from him, from everything he’d put you through. All of it for nothing. Now he was closer than ever, within an arm's reach, if you so wished to touch him.

His smirk only widened, he was enjoying this, you could tell it thrilled him. “In the flesh”, he says, his voice a low drawl as he drinks in your slightly bewildered expression. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many things you wished to get off your chest. But before you can even get a word out, the door to the interrogation room is slammed open.

You don’t have to look to know who it is. Yeonjun’s presence could be felt from miles away as he looms over you. “A word outside”, is all he says, before promptly turning on his heel and walking out again. — You don’t take your eyes off of Beomgyu when you rise to your feet, and the smirk on his face persists even when you exit the room.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

Your senior’s voice echoes down the vacant hallway and you wince at the accusation of his tone. How did you tell him, how did you come clean about the fact that you had history with the man currently detained and cuffed on the other side of the door. — Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hesitantly chew on it as your eyes dart between the floor and the walls, anywhere but him.

“Well I… Sort of knew him..” The words come out awkward, and you grimace at the way you presented the situation. Yeonjun’s frown only deepens, the crease on his forehead becoming even more prominent. “Knew?” He presses, and you suddenly feel as if you were the one being interrogated. This was not how your first case was supposed to go.

“Well.. I haven’t seen him in a long time.” You press your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself into a more upright stance as you try your best at holding his gaze. — “How long?” Yeonjun counters, to which your heart sinks. How long has it been? You hardly kept track, for Choi Beomgyu was someone you longed to forget. “Ten months”, you finally say.

Your senior sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers as he bites the inside of his cheek. He remains quiet for a good minute and you anxiously fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, glancing over your shoulder to make sure that no one was witnessing the most embarrassing conversation taking place.

“I’ll take you off the case.”

No. He can’t do that, can he? Well he technically could. Still, it was an option you refused to consider. “No.” You promptly say, rolling your shoulders back once as you prepare to face his rejection. You didn’t know why your first thought was to refuse, why a pang shot through your chest at the idea of having the case go to someone else, but it did.

Selfish as you were, you thought you needed this case for your own gain. Whether it was to find some sort of closure for the way things ended, or perhaps even to satisfy your own curiosity. Either way, you knew that this case belonged to you. — “I’m confident that I can do this.” Your voice doesn’t waver, and your gaze is firm as you peer up at Yeonjun.

Your senior sighs, carding his fingers through his hair as he mutters something under his breath. “It’s against policy and I shouldn’t-” — “Please, Yeonjun.” You take a step forward, hopeful eyes silently pleading with him.

“I could be of great help, I’m certain of it, please just give me a chance.” — Yeonjun doesn’t look convinced, his dark brows furrowed as he glances between you and the shut door. Patiently you wait as he thinks to himself, your heart thrumming in your ears as you refuse the urge to beg him further.

Finally, he huffs, shaking his head once, as if in disbelief of himself. “Alright, but if I notice that things are getting out of hand you’re off, are we clear?”

Eagerly you nod, “Of course. Thank you, sir!” You catch the way he rolls his eyes, coughing slightly as he dismisses you with the wave of his hands. “Don’t act formal with me now”, he tsks, shooting you a small sideway glance. He reaches for the handle once more, holding the door open for you as you enter the suffocating interrogation room a second time that day.

The silence is deafening as you step back inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing off the four confined walls. Beomgyu remains seated, mindlessly fiddling with the rings on his fingers, the cuffs around his wrists scraping against the metal table. — You force yourself to remain stoic as you approach once more, carefully taking your seat opposite him as you place your files down in front of you.

You clear your throat, ready to begin the initial interview when he suddenly speaks. “You look different.” He presents the statement causally as he leans back in his chair, it makes a squeaking noise at the action. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you swallow as you hold his gaze. — “People change”, you say, your throat suddenly feeling dry.

Beomgyu shakes his head, his dark and piercing gaze trailing along your figure. “But you act the same.” His lips stretch into a menacing smirk and you have to force the memories of those very lips against your own and all over your body, out of your head. Focus. You couldn’t afford to be taken off the case.

“Last night”, you start off strong, your voice firm as you finally divert your attention from the files you’d been clinging onto, “You were present at Park Baekhyun’s property around 1am. What were you doing there?”

The smirk has yet to fall from his face and Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow your way as he lets go of the rings he’d been fiddling with. “Cleanin’ up a mess”, the nonchalant tone he used masks any hint of unease he might be experiencing.

“What kind of mess?”

A glimmer of mischief flashes across his almost black eyes, it was one you recognized. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheeks, his hands flat against the metal table. “Well certainly not the ones we used to make.” The mockery made your skin crawl and you fought back the insults surfacing as you clenched your jaw.

“Please refrain from straying off topic”, you say, your voice eerily calm. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but doesn’t attempt to argue as he regards you with a bored expression. “One of my employee’s messed up”, he shrugs, “Fairly new to the job so I can’t really hold him accountable.” — You watch as his eyes flicker over to the window on his right, his gaze narrowing on the thick glass.

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds without tearing his attention from the window. And even though he couldn’t see Yeonjun, he without a doubt knew that he was there. For a moment, it felt almost as if he was addressing your senior and not you.

Beomgyu’s gaze soon flickers back to you, the smirk on his lips returning within seconds. “But you would know all about that wouldn’t you?” His eyes flash with underlying desire, “I went easy on you the first time.”

He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Choi Beomgyu to this day.

⸝⸝

📼 — March 28th 2022

The floor thumps in rhythm to the loud bass that echoes from the DJ booth. Sweaty bodies are pressed against one another as people tear their way through the dancefloor. The fluorescent lights blind you as they flash from purple to blue to green and back to purple again. — Perched awkwardly on a high stool by the bar, you watch as the night unravels before you.

Clubs had never been your forte. Especially not during the weekends where they seemed to host a home for the whole city as everyone drank their day to day problems away. Your eyes scan for Kayla, she was the one who’d brought you here in the first place. After listening to her persistent whining for almost an hour you had finally caved, but at what cost?

As soon as your coats had been left, she’d darted for the dancefloor, not as much as a second thought about you as she searched for her next victim. You shouldn’t even be surprised anymore, it was in her nature honestly.

You’ve already emptied two glasses, and now you’re tapping the cool rim against your lips as you aimlessly peer out over the crowd. The idea of another drink enticed you, but your wallet strongly disagreed with that idea, thus you were left far too sober for your own liking as you avoided any attempts at socialising. You weren’t here to make friends, much less fuck around.

It was then, in the midst of a heavy sigh, that your eyes fell on him. Back then you hadn’t known his name, you hadn’t known anything of what was to come. Your first thought was that he wasn’t your type. And you wanted to leave it at that, to let your eyes continue their endless roam and forget about him, but you couldn’t.

Your gaze clung to him as it trailed along his dark and long hair, perfectly framing his sharp features. Then to the half-hearted smirk he wore, to his dark clothes and the black rings around almost each and every one of his fingers. And then finally to his eyes, darker and all the more menacing than the rest of him, they seemed to glow under the neon lights.

For some reason, he was looking at you too. Despite the two half-naked girls draped over him, their hands insistently clawing at every part of him they could access, undoubtedly whispering beyond filthy shit in his ears with sickeningly sweet giggles. — Why was he looking at you?

He wasn't alone, far from it. The small booth he occupied held, not only him and the two girls, but at least three other guys as well, all wearing the same brooding expressions. You should look away, pretend like you’d never seen him in the first place, but the longer you stared at him, and the longer he stared back, it became increasingly more difficult.

His smirk widens when he brings his glass to his lips, and over the rim you catch the sly wink he sends you. Your heart stumbles over its next beat, your own glass stuttering against your chin as you grip it tighter.

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to getting hit on, or even subtly flirted with. But there was something undeniably different about this man. Despite your earlier complaints on your sobriety, you suddenly felt intoxicated in a way you never had before.

And so you did the only reasonable thing left to do. You winked back.

He chuckles, even though you’re unable to hear it, you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls. His ring clad hand slides along the thigh of one of the girls, who giggled as she leaned in to kiss his neck. He seemed to pay her little mind, those same dark eyes still fixed on you..

“Don’t even think about it.”

Kayla’s voice is sharp, and it snaps your attention from the stranger and over to your friend as she takes the seat next to yours. Slouched over the bar, she orders herself a glass of water which she begins gulping down. — “What?” You question as you watch her wipe her lips.

“That guy, the one you were eyeing”, she points in the direction of the man you’d just been gawking at, “He’s no good.” She gives a firm nod, glass gripped tightly in her hand as she peers down at the liquid floating around. — “How’d you know?” You scoff as you, too, turn back to the bar. Perhaps she was jealous of you succeeding in finding someone when she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be a first.

But Kayla only huffs, her nails tapping against the glass as she purses her lips. “Only uses women for his own personal gain and pleasure, you’ll get hurt.”

“What if I only seek pleasure?” That was a lie, because you didn’t, far from it. You were nothing like Kayla, at least you liked to think you weren’t. —- “Then I suggest you seek it elsewhere, I meant what I said, he’s bad news.”

“How do you know that?”

Her knowledge about this stranger intrigued you. Had she hooked up with him before and got jealous by the possibility of you doing the same? Had he rejected her?

Kayla sighs, her expression taking on an almost melancholic form as she sets her glass down. “Do you remember Shay?” She suddenly asks and you frown, confused by the mention of her old friend. “Yeah? You haven’t mentioned her in a while, did something happen?”

Your friend snorts, throwing a glance over her shoulder as she nods toward the man by the booth. “Yeah, he did. – One night she’s off with him, next time I see her is two weeks later, drugged out of her fucking mind and unable to stand on her own goddamn legs.” A visible shiver runs down Kayla's spine as she recalls the events in her head.

Turning back to the counter, she picks up her glass, “Besides, I’ve never seen him with the same woman twice.” With that, she downs the remaining water before pushing the now empty glass away. — “Better to try your luck on the dancefloor, hm?” She suggests as she attempts to pull you along.

“I’m fine here.” You give her a small smile, watching as she nods before turning to disappear through the thick crowd.

As much as you tried to keep your gaze from wandering, it somehow ended up by that godforsaken booth yet again. Except this time, the man seemed far too busy to spare your hopeless stares as much as a second glance. One of the girls had crawled onto his lap, shielding most of his face from view as she pressed her lips to his.

His fingers squeezed around her hips before his hands traveled down the curve of her ass, barely covered by the ridiculously short skirt she wore. — They only broke apart for him to mutter something to one of the others present, their following laughter almost overpowering the loud music.

With a small grimace you finally tear your gaze from the sight, slumping back against the bar with a tired sigh. This night seemed to drag on forever. Perhaps you could call a cab home, Kayla would probably want to stay at least another two hours, something that you weren’t quite feeling.

You brace your hands on the countertop with the intention of heaving yourself from your chair and search for your friend when the bartender suddenly catches your attention. Wordlessly he places a drink in front of you, making your head jerk up as you give him a confused look. “I didn’t order–”

“Booth 12”, he nodded to somewhere behind you but you hardly needed to turn around to know where this drink had come from. With your heart in your throat, you take the cool glass, eyeing the pinkish hue of the contents that swirled around the ice cubes. Why had he bought you this? Hesitantly you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip as you let the liquid slip down your throat.

It tasted sweet, and you quickly found yourself going back for more. But hadn’t he been busy just a few moments ago.. Perhaps you’d read him wrong. — Suppose you could finish this drink and then head home. But you can barely get as much as another sip in before the seat next to yours becomes occupied.

Through the corner of your eye you can easily make out his long dark hair, the faint smirk on his lips as he clasps his hands on the counter in front of him. For a moment, there’s an awkward silence hanging over the two of you. He doesn’t say anything as he gazes ahead, part of you wondered if he’d even come here with the intention of talking to you at all.

You take another sip of your drink, desperate for the liquor to take effect. The man shifts in his seat, and you feel as though you were on fire when his head turns in your direction. Even with no words he managed to make your heart beat in a frenzy as you clutched your glass tightly.

His dark and piercing gaze is unforgiving as it roams your figure, undoubtedly lingering where it shouldn’t. It was like he knew no shame. You should’ve told him off, you should’ve gotten up and left. For some reason you find yourself staring at him with equally invading eyes.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

It’s the first time he speaks, his head falling to the side as he studies you. “You new around town?” His voice is smooth, clean of any stuttering or awkwardness. A small part of you envied how easily he seemed to be carrying himself. — You shake your head, “No.”

The man raises an eyebrow, and you don’t stop him when he reaches for your drink. The rings around his fingers make a clanking sound against the glass as he takes it and brings it to his lips. “Then what? Not your crowd?” He asks before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving you.

“No, I suppose not..” You gingerly admit, not wanting to highlight the fact that you were completely out of your element. But judging by the way he looked at you, his silent demeanor practically eating you alive, he probably knew that already. — He places your glass back down, gently pushing it back your way as he wordlessly encourages you to drink more. You don’t know why you oblige.

He takes the opportunity of you sipping on your drink to introduce himself. “Choi Beomgyu”, he says, the smirk on his lips widening as he does. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name. He was a stranger, not to mention one that Kayla had specifically warned you about not long ago. Still, this man intrigued you beyond limits..

Beomgyu, as his name was, suddenly leaned closer and you could almost smell the liquor on his breath. “Come on dollface, you must have a name?” The nickname he so casually dropped made your stomach flip. — You tell yourself that this was just a game of his. Taking Kayla’s words into consideration, not to mention the fact that he had girls draped over him minutes ago, this wasn’t the first time he chatted someone up. You would not make a fool of yourself and fall for such cheap tricks.

He’s silent as he waits for you to answer, but when you merely avoid his gaze and sip on your drink, he chuckles. The laugh is pulled from deep within his chest and it sounds raspy when it rolls off his tongue. Beomgyu leans back, running a hand leisurely through his long hair. “Hard to charm I see.”

You don’t answer, but you can’t help but watch as he rests his elbows against the bartop, his finger dragging just below his bottom lip as he regards you with intrigue. — “Not your type?” You retort, your response coming out somewhat short. It was hard to fathom any reasoning behind his strange interest in you.

“Far from it”, Beomgyu hums, though his glimmering eyes betray the words coming out of his mouth. The lower half of his face pulls into a lopsided grin, “But I’m not opposed to trying new things.”

Your first instinct was to scoff, to tell him to fuck off back to wherever he’d emerged from. It’s strange. You find yourself completely unable to. Instead you push your nearly finished drink toward him once more, and Beomgyu takes it as he brings it to his lips. — If he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, then who says you weren’t either?”

“Tell me your name.”

His breath is hot on your neck, coming in short pants as he slams his hips against yours. The alleway is dark and vacant, shielding the two of you from prying eyes. Shoved against the brick wall, you’re pliant in his grasp as Beomgyu’s hands roam your body. With your skirt pushed high above your hips, the metal of his rings feel cool against your thighs as his fingers dig into your soft flesh.

Was this a good idea? — It didn’t matter. Your nails rake along his shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. Beomgyu chuckles against the crock of your neck, his lips leaving sloppy kisses over your skin, pulling it between his teeth.

This was so unlike anything you’d ever done before. Not that you were a prude, or anything of the sort. But something like this, in a place like this, where anyone could walk by and with a mere stranger no less.. Whatever. You figured he was just another promiscuous man with no other intentions than the last. You would use it to your advantage tonight, or at least so you thought.

But for every kiss he placed against your body, for every quiet whisper of praise that slipped from his tongue, you found yourself slowly losing your last semblance of control. Beomgyu was not like any of your previous partners, he was new, exciting, exotic even. Something you’d never had before, and now that you’d gotten a small taste, you felt far from satisfied.

Why did he want to know your name? Why did it matter if you were to never see one another after tonight? Still, his silent request is made clear when he presses your lips together in a feverish kiss. You gasp out at the feeling of his hard cock as it buries inside of your aching cunt, your thighs trembling as they remain wrapped around his waist.

“Dollface”, he exhales into the kiss, his mouth warm and wet against yours. And when he pulls back for air, your dazed eyes meet his as you brace your hands on his chest. Licking your lips, you inhale slowly before finally giving out your name, your most vulnerable piece of information.

He smirks, clearly thrilled by the admission. For a split second you wondered if you’d done the right thing. Perhaps it had all been one grave mistake. If it was, you weren’t given time to ponder it as he reconnets your lips, this time with a passion unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

And that was exactly how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu.

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urbeachboy · 2 days ago

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consider : you, who are too aware for your own good . .

you, who’ve recently moved to Gotham, a 19 year old uni student working a part-time job at a local café, trying desperately to make ends meet. you really don’t bother with all that vigilante and supervillain junk, always get home before 12:00 and stick to crowds.

but after a close call, getting nearly mugged and yet saved by a certain masked vigilante- red robin, maybe, judging by the red and the big yellow R on his chest- you think, ‘hey, this looks an awful lot like that one rich kid of Bruce Wayne’s.” and in an adrenaline-induced daze, you blurt out just what you were thinking; “You’re Tim Drake.”

He was only silent for a while (it was difficult to read him, even without the eye-mask- though you hadn’t seen him without it. It’d be much easier if you did) before he’d brushed you off with a small laugh and left you to walk home. Let’s say he kept a close eye on you that night.

The next morning, you woke up after a horrible dream and a terrible headache. The first thing you do; go to your phone, search up ‘the Waynes’. Compare each image of each individual to each image of each vigilante frequenting in Gotham and.. oh god. You’ve been proper enlightened. Will the cops be after you? No, you won’t tell anyone! They have no reason to!

Maybe the vigilantes will be after you.

..No! They’re meant to help people. They wouldn’t do something like that. Not to you.

However, the lack of danger in your path and the pitter-patter of footsteps on the roofs (the ones that are closer to the ground, at least) each night while walking home, sounding different everyday (though there’s almost a pattern. Mondays, they’re barely there, but you know it is. And it’s not belonging to one pair of feet. Tuesdays, they’re almost airy, but quick. Not like they’re running, more like they’re walking faster. Wednesdays, they’re a bit heavier, like the person’s a bit bigger, but that can’t be right. Thursdays, they’re familiar. Fridays, they’re like the tuesdays but they’re definitely running. And Saturdays, they’re not there. You think they’re not, at least- but you can feel the eyes boring into your nape, and you’d like to trust your instinct.) beg to differ.

Now, on a scale of one to ten, how absolutely fucked are you?

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ayumigotabittoolonely · 2 days ago

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hellooo. May I request a teen!nanami x teen!f!reader? With the trope "he probably hates me x I love her so much" 🤭🤭

I think it fit nanami perfectly since he is such a introvert/ stoic person.

If u do this request thank u ❤️

This is my first official request so I'll make a series for you !

"He probably hates me" x "I love her so much "

(Teen!Nanami Kento x Teen!F!Reader )

Next: {The Bakery Incident}

Jujutsu High had many cruel punishments, but nothing ,nothing was worse than being assigned Nanami Kento as a study partner.

You weren’t bad at math per se, but it definitely wasn’t your strong suit. So when Yaga paired you up with Nanami, the smartest person in your class, you thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d be patient. Maybe he’d be nice. Maybe just maybe he wouldn’t look at you like you were the most exhausting thing in existence.

Spoiler alert: He did.

"That’s wrong," Nanami said flatly, tapping his pencil against your worksheet. His tone wasn’t necessarily mean, but it sure felt mean coming from him.

You groaned, dramatically flopping onto the library table. "Okay, then help me fix it, oh great math genius."

Nanami exhaled slowly, like he was holding onto the last bit of patience he had. "It’s not about being a genius. It’s basic calculations. If you actually focused-"

"I am focusing!" you shot back.

He gave you a deadpan look, eyes flicking to your hands your fingers drumming against the table, your pen spinning in distracted circles.

You sighed, sitting up properly. "You hate this, don’t you?"

Nanami blinked. "What?"

"You hate this," you repeated, quieter this time. "Studying with me. Being here. You probably hate me too."

Nanami stiffened. His fingers twitched around his pen. For a moment, you thought he was about to confirm your worst fears.

But then

"That’s ridiculous," he muttered.

You frowned. "…Huh?"

"I don’t hate you," he said, a little too quickly. His gaze darted away, suddenly very interested in his notebook. "If anything, you’re just… distracting."

Your heart sank. "Distracting?"

Nanami sighed. "You fidget too much. You ask unnecessary questions. And you…" His voice lowered, almost reluctant. "You smile too much."

Your breath hitched. Oh.

You forced a chuckle. "Right. Got it. I’ll try to, y’know, tone it down or whatever."

"That’s not what I—"

"Let’s just finish this," you cut in, plastering on a grin. "So you don’t have to suffer longer than necessary."

Nanami’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t frustrated with you he was frustrated with himself. Because the truth was, you weren’t just distracting you were overwhelming. He liked your fidgeting, your questions, your damn smile that made his heart race at all the wrong moments.

But he was Nanami Kento, and he was terrible at this.

So instead of saying what he wanted to say, he simply sighed, flipping to a fresh page.

"…Let’s start over," he said, voice softer this time. "I’ll explain it better."

Thank u so much!

I don't officially have a title so bear with me and

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balrogballs · 2 days ago

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This! (OP im so sorry in advance for writing an essay on your post)

I always say, as someone who writes a ton about the intersections of grief and ‘madness’, that the most compelling, interesting and devastating part of the Oath to me is the way Tolkien himself described it, according to TolkienGateway: an oath that should never have been taken.

And I think that is what adds such a tragic richness to that entire sequence, because a Fëanor who likes his fancy stones and made his children swear a dooming oath and led his people into a long, drawn out war because he wanted them back, is frankly insulting to the outstanding way said sequence is laid out:

“Then Feanor ran from the Ring of Doom, and fled into the night; for his father was dearer to him than the Fight of Valinor or the peerless works of his hands; and who among sons, of Elves or of Men, have held their fathers of greater worth? …Many there grieved for the anguish of Feanor…”

The guy went fucking insane, because the first person to have been killed in Valinor was his fucking dad. All his bullshit before was, certainly, annoying as fuck, and his decisions after were the cause of terrible violence — and tbh he’s frankly ridiculous a lot of the time, but at that moment he was clearly out of his fucking mind. The way the speech was written, the frantic, rabbit-thump prose of that entire section, you can almost see the trance state he’s in.

And that isn’t to say anything he did as a result of that was justifiable or good, this isn’t an “insanity defence” but I just think the whole Fëanor cinammon roll vs serial killer debate is so flat because, to me, someone going utterly insane with grief and doing something that dooms his own sons, is the kind of tragedy that defines the Silmarillion to me!

The entire legendarium features instance after instance (of varying severity) of desperate, impossible choices made in moments of complete mindlessness by characters rendered utterly inarticulate by grief and fear — Elwing, Isildur, Frodo, Denethor — and the long, terrible shadows of those devastating decisions none of these people should have been in the position to make.

Denethor, driven mad by grief and paranoia, walked into his son’s funeral pyre, and Fëanor walked into his father’s, leading all seven of his sons to walk into his own. The damage these choices caused are at completely different degrees, but a thing doesn’t have to cause the same amount of damage to be a similar circumstance.

It doesn’t mean the choice was good, mind you, the whole thing was an utter disaster, the Oath was the worst thing that could have happened to both ME and Valinor because there are literally zero situations in which having seven sons swear a blood oath would ever work out. Because none of the seven really seem to give a fuck about the stones and they’re all doing it for their dad, so the oath would bind them with that love, rather than their love for the Silmarils, etc.

But to acknowledge the circumstances the speech was made under does not negate the damage it caused. In fact it only makes it worse, the knowledge that a split-second choice caused All of That, the knowledge that a choice made in the wake of his father’s death would one day lead to all seven of his sons’ deaths. If he’d done it for memes and jewels, the following events just would not have had the same literary impact!

But yeah. It’s the worst yet most compellingly and devastatingly written part of the Silmarillion, and yet I so often see it flattened out as either “Fëanor made a great strategic choice and he was right” or “he did it because he’s a greedy fuck” and it’s just 😭😭😭

TL/DR: I was thinking about this ficlet someone requested from me a couple months back about Fëanor finding Finwë and how writing that provided such an insight into the wild place his mind must have been, and this word vomit is the result of that.

We all know Fëanor as “the guy obsessed with his Silmarils” but it’s quite something to remember that when he first discovered Morgoth had broken into his house, he wasn’t even thinking about how the Silmarils were most likely stolen. He immediately burst into tears not over the jewels, but over his dad.

#fëanor

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yoyomomiko · 20 hours ago

Note

Could I pls request some cute luffy dating headcanons? Also your page is so cute<3333

pairings: luffy x female reader

cw: not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): tysm!! >.< i've actually been wanting to write something for luffy for quite a while now!! also i'm sorry this is short :(( -> m.list

Luffy is obsessed with physical affection. He constantly wants to hold your hand, hug you, or just lean against you!!

If you're sitting down, expect him to plop down beside you and wrap his arms around you.

He gives you random kisses all the time!!

Luffy doesn't really think about it. He just sees your face and kisses you. It could be your lips, cheek, forehead or even nose. If you look kissable (which is always), he's going for it.

He steals food for you!!

He'll steal some meat off of Sanji's stove just to share it with you. He thinks it's romantic, even if Sanji is screaming right next to him.

Will fall asleep on you. Whether it's your lap, shoulder, or even if you're standing, he has no problem with dozing off while leaning against you.

Whether you like it or not, dating Luffy means getting dragged into his stupid adventures. He doesn't want you to get hurt, but he likes it better when you're there with him.

He gets jealous and doesn't even realize it!! He'll complain to the rest of the crew about how you don't give him enough attention. Sometimes he squishes himself in the middle of the person you are talking with and inserts himself into the conversation, wrapping an arm around your waist, completely unaware that he's being possessive.

He talks about you all the time!! The crew is constantly hearing "Did you see what [Y/N] did?" "Isn't that impressive?" "Isn't [Y/N] so cool?" He's your biggest fan.

Despite him being an adorable boyfriend, he's got a few errors. He's terrible at keeping secrets!! He'll try to keep it a surprise, but he'll blurt it out seconds later.

Loves it when you play with his hair. He will instantly melt if you run your fingers through his hair. If you ever want to put something cute in his hair, like a little bow, do it. He'll wear it proudly.

Luffy is extremely food motivated, but he always makes sure you get a bite before he devours the whole plate.

He TACKLES you. I wanted to say that he tackles you when he's excited, but let's be honest, he doesn't have to be thrilled to jump on you.

If you've been apart for a while, prepare for a Luffy to collide into you at full speed the moment he sees you again.

He brags about you constantly!! He'll legit tell strangers how amazing you are.

Luffy wants you to wear his hat. He doesn't trust just anyone with his hat, but sometimes he'll put it on your head and grin, because you look pretty in it. His words, not mine.

He gets so easily distracted by you!!! If you're in the middle of battle and looking cool, he'll stop what he's doing just to admire you.

Always tries to carry you. Piggy back rides, bridal style, he just loves carrying you!! If you let him, he will never put you down.

Luffy hates it when you're sad. If you cry, he is panicking. He'll make the funniest faces, tell the dumbest jokes and even offer you his food just to cheer you up.

He falls asleep talking to you. You could be having a deep conversation, and all of the sudden you hear him snoring. He falls asleep mid sentence. You can't even get mad because he looks so peaceful.

He wants you to sit next to him at every meal. He'll save you a spot and glare at anyone who tries to take it. You're his favourite person, and meal time is sacred.

Luffy loves it when you wear his clothes!! If you throw on his vest or one of his clothes, his face lights up. He might even tell you to keep it!! Nami might genuinely turn pale if she sees you wear one of... Those vests.

★yoyomiko ★miko

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bussyyeukie · 1 day ago

Text

Neon Lights and Blood Fights p.3

(fighter!simon x secretary!reader)

part one. part two. part three.

It had taken you nearly a full day to do that paperwork.

Could’ve taken you an hour of just signing blindly, but you decided to read (most) of the pages inside. A handful of NDA’s, some stuff about medical history, agreements about the job–that you won’t find another while working for Price and his men, and that you won’t disclose any info (more NDA’s within that) about his, and yours now really, fighters. Stuff like that. Not to mention the pages, upon pages, upon pages of legal crap you did not understand. You weren’t dumb, not by any means, but it was just legal, lawyer type paperwork that you’d never dealt with before. So it was no surprise that your search history looked like you were trying to cheat on the Bar exam by the end of it.

Currently, you were sitting at the desk in front of the entrance, a shitty little desk with a few things on it and a file cabinet. Not really an office desk but more something where some files about the fighters and “clients” were kept. Nothing too in depth, really it all just looked like gym filing to anyone else, and it’s where Price had stationed you for the time being. You had voiced your concern about confidential information being so close to the front entrance, and he had said, “Don’t worry about’ it darlin’, I got my own tricks up my sleeve too…” and left you with a wink. You assumed it meant the information was false, or it was extremely known things. All fighters have two legs and bones!

You rubbed your eyes, hair tucked behind your ears. You failed to really style it today, so it sat a bit messy. Glancing tired eyes at the clock it read 3:00pm. You groaned, looking down to the empty desk in front of you. All except a number 2 pencil you had been pushing around.

Price had sat you there this morning, and said to “keep an eye out” which meant you’d been sitting there for about 3 hours doing nothing. Watching the occasional person walk by, and one random person in training gear walked in. You sent them Price's direction with a sweet smile.

The bell above the door chimed, you looked over, sitting up a little straighter, your shirt stretching slightly across your chest and shoulders. You’d decided on a skirt and button-up short sleeve today. Wasn’t terribly cold out, and you’d learned the gym was usually warm–if not hot–almost all the time. A fairly snug gray skirt reached your knees, very professional mind you.

A smile creeped onto your face as you spotted the brunette Scotsman push through the door, large duffle bag in hand and hoodie on, but still rolled up over his bright cast. Looking down the street, shouting something.

“Ah won’t staun ‘ere aw day waitin' fur ye!” he scoffed, “Hurry up!”

He grumbled to himself and paused when he saw you sitting at the desk, attentive.

A cheeky grin swiped across his lips, pushing the door open further, you raised an eyebrow as he walked in.

“Weel looky here,” he leaned against the desk, ginger on his bad arm, “this sure is a bonnie sicht fur this afternoon, eh?”

You chuckled a bit, “Good afternoon Johnny.”

You’d know these boys for about a week. Not especially well or anything, but Johnny was scary friendly, and so was Kyle–so it was easy to talk to them when they were constantly bothering you and forcing conversation. Simon on the other hand…he kept his distance. Not a lot of distance, but still distance. He was polite, and spoke to you when needed, but he didn’t go as out of his way to talk to you like Johnny did–and when Simon did it was short, awkward conversation that typically ended in him roughly excusing himself or going, “I have to go, train…” and walking off in some random direction.

Once he’d walked into the girls bathroom (not used since there were never any women in the gym) and stayed in there for 30 minutes just in case you were still out there when he emerged. Icing on the cake was he said he was going to go speak with Price as he walked away.

You honestly liked talking to him. Weird as he was, Simon was sweet and was obviously not used to conversation with anyone other than like five people currently in his life. Five might be pushing it. Judging from his typical company, he probably wasn’t used to getting a word out during conversation.

He reminded you of yourself in the 3rd grade when you thought the weird talking points you'd memorized the night before was gonna make you friends.

“Price mov' ye oot here fur the day??” Johnny leaned in closer, smug as he grinned, catching your eyes everytime you looked somewhere else, “Pretty borin’, eh?”

You rolled your eyes, “You wouldn’t believe, nothing to do but sit here. Wait for you and the rest to show up I guess…”

He laughed, clapping a hand on your desk and shouldering his bag more, “Ach! Weel, somewan's been sittin' aroond aw day waitin', an' sure is gonna get a kick oot o' this welcome committee!”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms on the desk and leaning in, secretly, “Oh really?”

“Aye,” Johnny nodded, “He’s strugglin’ t'day.”

You glanced behind Johnny, just in time to spot a large body filling up the doorway, bell chiming as the door opened. The lumbering blond had on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, frowning as he walked in. Catching your eye immediately, as he gripped the strap of his duffle bag tighter, jaw clenching.

He walked up to Johnny, standing next to him, looking at you. He was taller than Johnny, and had a good view over the desk where you sat, not that it was a tall desk or anything to begin with.

His cheeks went a bit pink as he stared at you, blushing a bit yourself when you realized he wasn’t really staring at your face.

Maybe the skirt was unprofessional for this environment?

“Good afternoon Simon,” you nodded tentatively to him, with a sugary smile. Tugging the end of your skirt down, trying to stretch it past your knees.

He grunted and nodded, “Aft'noon.”

Fidgeting with the strap of his bag slightly.

You glanced behind them, noticing the absence of a person there, “Where’s Gaz?”

Looking between the two, Soap shrugged, and Simon rolled his eyes.

“He’s leyte t'day, summat about 'is cat,” his grumbly voice seemed to clear in the gym, even with the background noise. Johnny was loud, sure, but something about Simon’s voice just cut so clear through everything. Maybe he did theater in high school, and learned to project.

Your pouted slightly, looking between the two, "Oh, I hope she's ok, Kyle said she'd been acting a little off recently."

“Price got 'er workin' reception fur the day” Johnny jutted a thumb at you as he eyed up the slouching hulk next to him.

“Ah can see that Johnny…”

You huffed a bit, standing up, catching the way Simon immediately refocused his attention on you, not hiding the way he looked you up and down. His brows scrunching together, lips pressing a bit tighter.

“Come on,” Johnny scoffed, “Come back with us, we’ll show you a few moves huh?”

His chuckle was cut short as he seemed to snap to attention a bit. Shoulders squaring and a weird look crossing his face as he looked past you.

Your brows quirked up before a heavy hand found itself on your shoulder, the sudden sensation making you yelp and jump. Whipping around to look at the man standing behind you. A warm smile on his face, crows feet deep set next to his eyes and full cheeks.

“Pullin’ ‘er away from work so soon?”

“O-oh,” you put a hand on your chest, hands nearly shaking as your heart pumped under your ribs. Gulping as you licked your lips, the chapstick left a sticky wet on your tongue that tasted of vaseline, “Mr. Price, you spooked me.”

He chuckled deep in his chest, hand dragging down your arm as he gripped it, tucking you against his side in a buddy-buddy way as he looked to the boys in front of the desk.

“My 'pologies darlin', didn’t mean t'give yer a fright,” he jostled you slightly, your gaze finding itself back to Simon, “Shud work on yer awarness sometime though.”

“Y-yeah, probably,” a tight smile found itself onto your face, Simons fists clenched tight, the one on the strap of his bag, and the once hanging by his hips. Muttering something to himself and looking from the hand around your arm to Price–who was looking back at him.

Johnny broke the moment of silence quickly, “Wasn’t gonny, sir! Jist a joke, wouldn’t dream o' pullin' 'er frae work.”

Price jostled you again slightly, your feet finding themselves in a poor placement as you stumbled for a moment. Praying you wouldn’t totally tumble on a rolled ankle. Finding your balance quickly, looking up embarrassed. Cheeks pinker than before as you stood with your shoulders raised. Pressed against the side of Price’s chest, you looked up to him, finding him already looking at you. Your eyes widening as you nervously look back in front of you, a sheen of sweat finding itself around your collar and your palms–which were clasped tightly against each other.

“Good! I need 'er fer a li'l outing,” he looked to Simon out of the corner of his eye, demeanor changing slightly, more professional and stern, “Yeh too, Simon, bizness mattahs.”

Simon nodded curtly, bumping into Johnny as he walked past, not rough but in an irritated manner. Sending a wicked side eye to the scot as he passed, you followed him with your gaze for as long as you could, without turning your head dramatically to catch him turning the corner.

Jumping as Price squeezed your arm roughly, snapping you back into the moment, and away from how Simon's shoulders lumbered as he walked and his butt was probably thicker than yours.

“Yes! Uh, Sir,” you collected yourself quickly, then pinched your brows, “Outing?”

“Yeh ma’am, I’ll brief ya more on the ride there, got somethin' fer ya in the meantime.,” he gestured to under the desk, “Grab yer things, quick.”

He pat your low back as he let you move and lean down, grabbing the bag under the desk with your work items in it. Grunting as he moved you, pulling you with him away from the front desk and away from Johnny. Who scoffed and waved to you cheekily as he walked towards the other side of the gym, towards the rings.

You watched him for a moment, before stumbling as John quickened his pace towards his office.

“Um, sir,” you cleared your throat, “I promise I wouldn’t have left work, even if they invited me, I would’ve stayed right at my spot.”

Price laughed, glancing at you as he pulled at his door, holding it open to you.

“Don’t worry, Y/n, I know yer a good, 'ard workin' girl, wouldn’t let temptation stray ya.”

His smile was so warm it almost didn’t fit the rest of his demeanor. You swallowed, nodding as you quickly made your way into the office.

It was stuffy as ever, the scent of smoke ever present, and the old chair was as worn as always. There was a file on the desk as Price walked over and snatched it up. Passing it over to you.

“You’ll be joinin' me an' Simon on a business meetin', here’s some info on the other party and their fighters an' that, as well as the possible location,” he leaned against the desk on his palm, shifting his belt in the loops of his pants.

You cautiously flipped open the folder, it wasn't very thick, only a few pages really. Some informational sheets.

“Um, thank you sir?”

“So polite. Wait outside fer a mo', Simon’ll be with us fer a bit, I just gotta grab some things an' we’ll be on our way. Meetin's in 30,” Price chuckled, shaking his head, he stopped himself before turning to you more, “After today, you’ll be comin' to all me meetin's with me, an' you’ll be in charge o' schedulin' 'em an' keepin' up to date. Got it?”

Nodding your head, and tucking some hair behind your ear, you smiled tight, “Yes Mr. Price.”

The burly man patted you on the shoulder, smoothing out the fabric of your shoulder where he crinkled it.

“Now go wait outside for Simon.”

“Yes, sir…”

“Oh, and drop yer bag 'ere, lot safer than just sittin' out under the desk out there,” he gestured to the room, but mostly to the spot under the large window that was always closed off with shitty curtains. You licked your lips slightly as you nodded and thanked him and set your bag down, pulling a pen from it and chapstick. Shoving both into the pocket of your blouse quickly, same with your phone. It wasn’t huge, but it did pull at the fabric of the pocket.

Your lips felt dry as you watched him walk around his desk, he was dressed in a semi nicer shirt than usual, and his pants were slacks instead of jeans. You turned on the toe of your foot, and dragged your eyes away from Price as he yanked a drawer open.

The door was heavy as you opened it and stepped outside, shoes clicking on the hard floor.

The metal of the wall next to Price’s door was cold through the fabric of your shirt, and you took a deep breath in, letting your head fall against the wall. You looked at the subtly swaying light on the ceiling. Thinking about how you got here.

You huffed and rubbed your eyes carefully–trying your best to not smear the makeup.

“Yer cryin'?”

The deep voice made you jump, whipping your head to look at the man next to you. Slightly taken aback at what you saw, brows furrowing and mouth parting as you looked at Simon.

“What?” you shook your head, “N-no, I, no–I was just rubbing my eyes, sorry…”

Simon shrugged and turned, hands in his pockets, his eyes boring holes into you.

“Alrigh',” his response was short and sweet. You looked him up and down. He was in a suit, not an exactly nice one, but like something a fancy limo guy would wear, you weren’t even sure Simon could sit in a limo, much less the driver's cab, he just seemed too…large.

But he didn’t look bad, in fact he looked pretty handsome, it fit him at least, but the tie wasn’t tied exactly well, and the top button was undone, as well as the buttons by his hands. The shirt also wasn’t tucked in, and the coat was unbuttoned. Not to mention his pants were tight on him, not noticeably unless you were looking…but you were in fact looking.

He looked unbelievably hot.

Your jaw clenched and your shoulders raised when you found your gaze drifting back up to his face. His brows pinched and lips slightly pursed.

“Wha’?”

“Huh,” your voice sounded foreign, cracked a little in fact.

Simon scoffed and looked to the side, “Where’s Price?”

You straightened up fully, gulping, and tucking hair behind your ear that didn’t need to be tucked, “Um, he’s in his office, he’ll be right out though! Said for me to wait out here with you for a moment…”

Simon nodded, and leaned against the wall, looking off towards the rings.

“So…” you broke the silence, with that weird pitchy voice that wasn't yours, “What’s with the suit?”

Simon grumbled, pulled a hand up to rub his face, “Stupid shit, Price makes us wear 'em when we interact with other…fighters, says we can’t be lookin’ a mess when 'e’s in charge of us.”

You nodded, then pursed your lips, “Should…should I be dressed better?”

Looking down at your outfit, you smoothed out your skirt, and double checked your buttons and collar, and glanced at your legs to see if you had any runs in your stockings.

“Nah,” Simon's voice was stuffy as he cleared his throat, “Yer lookin' good. Real pretty, like a proper business lass.”

You blinked owlishly as you looked at him, forgetting about your triple check of your clothes, swallowing thickly as you felt your stomach shift. Face growing hot and your knees creak with the sudden weight of your body.

“O-oh,” you ran your hands down your front, looking down at the floor–missing how Simon tracked your hands down your front, “Well, thank you. You look, really handsome too actually.”

At that Simon cleared his throat louder, shifting uncomfortably, looking like he just got hit in the stomach.

“They're uncomfortable fuckin’ clothes.”

You shrugged, “Well your tie is tied wrong for starters, plus you don’t really seem like you wear ‘office ready’ clothes often. Although you look more like a bodyguard.”

Simon looked at you as he licked the inside of his cheeks, the flesh moving differently with the scar tissue in its wake, you’d seen Simon's face a lot, and each time it’s like the first. You'd also notice he acted different in the mask, more A-line with the 'stoic fighter' persona. There’s always something new you realize, or notice about his face, or he makes an expression you’d never seen or you watch how his skin tugs in certain ways due to his scaring. But you never got when Johnny would make a joke about scaring girls off, you assumed he was getting more than he could handle. But now as you thought about it–he’d very rarely speak about women, or any ‘encounters’ he’d had with them. Maybe it was because you were there, and he didn’t want to spill his guts around some stranger girl. Not like Johnny would, seemed like he had a new girl every night.

“It’s tied fine.”

You giggled, crossing your arms, “I think I’d know Simon.”

You missed that way his shoulders tensed when you’d said his name, and you definitely missed the way his hands shifted in his pockets and if he was a little less ashen he’d be blushing.

“Well it doesn’t do any good to just point out I didn’t tie the stupid bugger well.”

He tugged at the tie with one of his hands, loosening it more.

God you swore the room instantly got 10 degrees hotter.

“I–well I’ve just tied a lot of ties ok,” you gulped, “I didn’t ya know, mean anything–I, I can help! If you want…”

What you wanted was to leave, to throw yourself from a building and somehow figure out how to delete what you say out of existence. But you can’t do that, so you just stand there with your lips pressed together and a constipated look on your face.

Simon curled a brow and shrugged, “You can if ya want. Your choice.”

You felt so light after that, he took a step forward and your muscles froze. All of a sudden you were worried you’d completely forgotten how to tie a tie.

“Yeah I mean,” you paused, maybe saying something about how he’s supposed to look nice and not sloppy wouldn’t be the best, “Just come here…”

Simon hesitated, then clenched his jaw, taking a step forward as you tucked the file under your arm, squeezing it tight to you. Fixing your hair behind your ears before you stood straight, reaching out to his tie–which was a simple black tie. Honestly it was a little short for the tall man, but you didn’t think Simon would care too much about how long his tie was supposed to be.

“I think I have to take it all the way off,” you said, looking closer at the knot the blond had tied it into. You glanced up at his face, and the tall man shrugged.

“Do what ya need.”

Your hands worked fast to untie it, and pulled the tie from around his neck before straightening out. Your face felt hot–you were sure you were red, or looked sweaty at least, and Simon was just…staring. Brows relaxed for once as he looked at you with a blank face, which, was slightly softer than his usually resting face. As you went to re-loop the tie, you found yourself going onto your tippy toes slightly. Leaning in closer to him as your arms went up. You tried to keep distance between the two of you, professionally of course, he was technically your boss in some way. But Simon leaned down, almost like he was chasing the distance you were subtly creating as you leaned back. You could smell him, even in ‘nicer’ clothes he still had the almost minty lingering scent of cigarettes and a certain musky sweat smell to him. It wasn’t bad, like BO sweat, but it wasn’t like cedar or “ocean mist” or anything like that.

You looked up to his face, quickly finding his eyes locked onto you. Sunken and brown, you couldn’t help but notice how thick his lashes were, and they were light, not blond but light. They seemed to catch the light of the gym beautifully, even though the lighting was terrible, Simon didn’t seem to get the memo. Even his eyes looked like they were reflecting a golden hour type light. Even with the dark circles and eye-black residue around them (which you noticed never fully came off, you’d never see him without some short of muck on his face).

You gulped, licking your lips nervously as you snapped your gaze back to the tie, burning hotter than ever. There was no way he happened to not catch you hard you were staring directly into his eyes.

But, you didn’t notice how intensely he was staring at you, so he might’ve not noticed.

“Um, so,” your voice again was squeaky as you spoke, “You just make sure this side is longer than this side, and then cross it over here…”

Your hands were slightly unsteady as you showed him. Explaining as you went, finishing with a fairly decent tied tie. Much better than what Simon had done, as you adjusted it, you also found yourself fixing his collar, which was a bit uneven, and buttoning one of the buttons he hadn’t. Before you found yourself squaring out his shoulders like a mother would her child you stopped yourself.

“Uh, sorry, got ahead of myself, I tied my boyf–ex’s ties all the time, he didn’t know how, like at all, it was embarrassing…for him! Not for you!” you chuckled nervously as you pulled your hands away, rubbing them on your skirt, which you also adjusted where it didn’t need it, tugging it down a bit, “It’s totally understandable for you, he was just like, um a child ya know. Totally helpless…”

As soon as you mentioned him you regretted it, not only did it make you think about him, which you had tried not to do since you last saw him, but Simon’s whole demeanor changed. He tensed and his brows pinched tight, his mouth curled down and he had a thinly veiled sneer on his face. Shoulders leaning forward slightly, fists clenched at his sides.

“Enuff of that,” he pulled his hand up to run it down the tie, looking from it to you, looking at you with that same annoyed sunken look he typically had, “Don’t gotta talk about that tosser anymore. Fuckin’ wanker pushed his luck, used it all up with ya.”

You raised a brow, looking at him confused.

“Used it all up?”

“Glad t’see ya kids gettin’ along.”

The stray voice jolted you two out of the bubble of standing outside Price’s office. Speaking of, the grumbly man was closing the door behind him, holding a sleek black briefcase in his hand. Smiling at the two of you.

“I–” Looking at Simon, you realized how close you two were still standing, how he was slightly leaning down to you, and how you were standing with your hands clasped behind your back in a school-girl way.

Simon grumbled, standing up straighter, “Ya talk like yer on yer deathbed, old man.”

Your heart was racing, and your eyes wide as you looked at Price. Not exactly sure why you felt like you’d been caught doing something, but your body was reacting the same, embarrassed and nervous. Not a feeling you enjoyed.

“Um, yes sir! I was helping with Simons tie,” you yipped, gesturing to the tie. Simon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Your stomach jumped at how barrel chested he looked, and how thick his arms looked, and his fucking mitts of hands.

You quickly snapped out of it, smiling at Price sheepishly.

“Aw, Simon couldn’t tie ’is own tie,” Price laughed and clapped the large man on the shoulder, giving him a look you couldn’t quite figure out. Felt like you were out on an inside joke.

“I can tie me tie, she just... does it better, office-snob type,” Simon glanced at you, the back to Price.

“Hey,” your brows pinched together as you huffed, “I’m not a snob…”

Price laughed, “Don’t worry darlin’, we don’t think yer a snob, yer just well put together, somethin’ Riley’s not used to.”

The bearded man laughed again as he clapped Simon on the shoulder harder than before, almost as a reprimand. Price squeezed Simon’s shoulder as he looked at you.

“Well, best get on our way, there’s a car out front we’re takin’,” and with that Price walked off, whistling a soft tune as he went, “Don’t wanna leave everyone waitin’.”

When he was out of ear-shot, you looked to Simon.

“I’m not a snob,” you said, crossing your arms, pouting.

“Don’t read too much int’ it, love,” Simon didn’t seem to be listening too much as he looked at you, but he shook his head and as he walked ahead of you, you swore you saw a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

Scoffing to yourself, you jogged to catch up, following the two men out of the building. Price let you two to a back parking lot you didn’t know was there, and to a large truck. It wasn’t exactly brand new but it looked like a sturdy work truck.

Honestly, you were expecting something…nicer. An expensive black car with blacked out windows and so clean the paint was like a mirror. But, a large dirty white work truck that was slightly lifted and had dents in the doors was the only car in the lot. You clutched the folder tight as you followed after the two, nearly jogging to keep up with their long legged pace, and the uneven ground wasn’t ideal for heels.

You were also very aware that there was apparently no backseat.

Price reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys, glancing back to the two of you.

“Sorry 'bout the ride, darlin', the regular work car is,” Price paused to think over his words as he stuck the key into the door, unlocking it, “In the shop at the mo', got a bit banged up. So we're usin' Simon's truck.”

Simon sighed as his large hand reached for the passenger door, pausing as he looked into the car the back to you, like he was piecing something together. The driver's side door groaned as it opened, rocking the truck as Price swung himself in, grinning.

“She ridin’ in the bed then?”

Simon jerked the door open as he shot a nod towards you. Your eyes widened as you looked at the bed of the truck, swallowing thickly as you looked at the brute, he didn’t look like he was cracking a joke. But then again, he never really did.

“I'm not riding in the bed,” you said, pointing a finger at it, then looking at Price, “–um, sir…”

Price laughed, turning the car on, the engine rolling.

“Don’t worry, you’re not ridin' in the bed,” he chuckled, patting the seat next to him (which was not a seat but the hump in between the two seats that would maybe fit a five year old…so not you).

“O-oh,” you squeaked, Simon stepped off to the side, still gripping the door tightly. His lips pressed tight together. You grabbed onto the truck and lifted yourself up, setting the folder down as you climbed into the truck. As awkward as it was, and you nearly stumbled forward as you pulled yourself all the way in. A bit red in the face as you sat yourself next to Price, keeping a few inches between you two.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Price pat your knee and looked past you, the grin on his face growing.

You had a few inches separating you and Price, that was till Simon got into the truck. The cab rocking and his large frame squishing you against Price. Your body tensed as you were squished tight between the two men.

Simon grunted, shooting you a side eye, “Can’t ya move o'er.”

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth, curling in on yourself instinctively, then looked to Simon with a crease in your brows, “No. If I move over anymore I’ll be in Mr. Price’s lap…”

The blond man let out an annoyed grunt, “Just–christ woman…”

Price let out a belly laugh as he looked to you both, “Now no bickering, I need you two on your best behavior for this meeting, understood?”

He looked at you at the end, gaining a bit more of a serious tone. Your shoulders raised and you nodded. File clutched in your hands as it rested on your lap.

“Of course, uh, sir, Mr. Price…”

Simon scoffed lightly next to you and Price patted your thigh, feeling Simon's arms rub against you as he crossed them over his chest.

The ride was stuffy, even though the windows were down both men smelling heavily of tobacco and Simon smelled of sweat and Price of cologne. Not to mention the truck, god it smelled like an ashtray and mothballs, and, the lingering scent of pennies would catch your nose every other breath. The scratchy radio playing something quietly.

Unfortunately both men man-spread, and it was a manual truck, so you could either try to spread your legs around the gear shift, or tuck them tight against Simon. Which, you opted for. Body burning hot at each bump or gear shift that jolted the truck–at a certain point you think Price was doing it on purpose with how harsh his start and stops were, and a particularly sharp turn that landed you nearly splayed over Simon's lap.

You refused to look at him after that, face burning all the way down your neck. Simon kept a steady gaze out the windshield, solid as stone in his seat. At another rough turn by Price, Simon moved. A hand reaching over to press itself hastily against your shoulder–steadying you on the turn.

“Uh, thank you,” you muttered out, licking your lips nervously, not looking at the bulky man.

He grunted in return and looked out the window next to him, his hand moving down to wipe itself along his slacks, his muscles tense as if he was hesitating to make a movement.

“Ow long 'ave you lived in town?” Price's voice cut into the air., Making you jump slightly.

“A few years,” you fidgeted with your hair then looked at Price, the older man switching between looking at you and the road, “Something like 4 or 5, I moved once while I was here.”

“Oh is that right?” Price mused. You nodded and hummed at him, looking back in front of you. There weren’t many people out, and not too many cars parked along the road. You were entering a nicer part of town, where more of the business and financial buildings were. Nothing extremely high end, but your old job was about 10 minutes from where you were now.

As you were looking around the area, watching people hurry up and down the street, all in nice clothing, you felt Simon shift next to you, then felt the weight of his arm behind you. Your brows raised as you instinctively sat up straighter, sending a side-eye his way.

He had his face turned away from you, and looked even more tense than before, but this time his arm was resting on the upholstery behind you, there were no headrests, so you could lay your head back on his thick forearm if you wanted it. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and you could smell him more now that you were essentially tucked into his chest, under his arm.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to move, or scooch away from him. In fact the thought of it made you tense up more. The car was silent.

“Comin’ up on it,” Price said, a cheesy grin on his face as he looked at you both, “It’s jus' 'round the cor'ner.”

“Mmhm!” your voice was squeaky, and went even higher when you felt Simon’s arm move closer to you, more wrapping around your shoulder now. You honestly didn’t know what to do, it was like when a cat laid on you and you didn’t want it to move…or claw you to shit. This all felt like some Johnny shenanigan, the “yawn to arm over the shoulder” thing seemed very much up his lane, but not Simons. Especially not with you, you weren’t sure he liked you in general–much less had a romantic liking hidden in there for you.

Price pulled around a tall building with large glass windows, and parked in a shadowed off parking area down an alley behind it. Roughly turning the car off and opening the groaning door.

“Hop out, love-birds, we’re 'ere!”

Simon ripped his arm away from you faster than you'd ever seen him move, and got out of the car, walking off quickly.

God it felt like you had whiplash, grabbing the file tightly and slipping out of the car, hopping down onto the pavement. Looking up to see Simon pulling on his black balaclava, tucking it into the collar of his shirt, speaking quietly with Price at the end of the bed of the truck. You found yourself frowning slightly at the covered up face, you’d grown to like not seeing it covered.

Simon glanced over, rolling his shoulders when he saw you. Your brows pinched slightly as he just stared at you, before peeling his eyes away to look back at Price who was saying something to the large man.

You closed the door of the truck, and looked down at your attire, adjusting your skirt and shirt, flattening it out properly before you walked over to the two men.

Price looked at you as he shoved the keys in his pocket, resting his hands in them as he spoke.

“Ah Y/n,” he sounded more reserved than usual, more professional, “Stick close to Simon, yeah? Don’t want ya wanderin' off in 'ere, an' don’t speak to anyone unless you're with me an' I’m talkin' to 'em. Got it?”

You nodded, “Yes Sir.”

Simon sighed heavily, as Price clapped his hands together.

“Wonderful,” the man reached up and pinched your cheek, “Simon'll keep ya safe, darlin', don’t worry 'bout it. Jus' be sweet an' smile that pretty smile.”

You nodded and rubbed where Price pinched you, looking up at Simon who was looking steadily at Price with a hard gaze.

“They really got into character when it related to business,” you thought, huffing through your nose. Following them into the building. You felt your pace falter slightly at how nice the inside of the building was. Pristine and shiny and everything looked so expensive. Especially the people walking around.

There were a few eyes on you three as you walked in, but for the most part everyone acted like this was a normal occurrence. Which, it probably was for all you knew. It was cold inside, and smelled like a hospital. Not warm or welcome at all.

Price walked up to the front desk where a pretty girl was sitting, typing away. She had hair pins holding her hair back and a radiant face. She glanced up at you three, her eyes lingering on you–looking you up and down before glancing to Price with a “really?” look on her face.

“Mr. Price?” she asked, folding her arms on her desk, tilting her head.

“Yeh, ma’am,” he grinned. Simon stood behind and to the side of Price, looming over him and the desk–like some kind of evil guardian angel.

“You’re late you know,” her tone was sharp, not terribly, but she wasn’t exactly pleased. You felt your face flush when she looked at you, “Why have the secretary if you aren’t going to use her?”

Price waved her off, “We made it, didn’t we?”

The woman behind the desk shook her head and picked up the phone, typing numbers in, “You know Kate hates starting off late…”

Price chuckled and shrugged, “I’ll deal with 'er, don’t you worry.”

The woman laughed and scoffed, “Yeah I’m sure you will–12th floor, third room on the left, and you better hurry up.”

With that Price nodded and led you both to an elevator, once on it you three stood in silence. Standing between Price and Simon, the elevator had the lingering scent of cologne and perfume, watered down by the time between people using it.

“That was Laswell's wife,” John said, leaning against the wall of the elevator slightly, stretching his leg out like his knee was bothering him, “Sweet woman, but no doubt sick of us coming in and putting her wife in a bad mood.”

The man chuckled, shaking his head.

“Laswell?” you asked, quirking a brow. The name ringing a faint bell in your memory.

“Ah yes,” Price snapped, “I don’t believe I ever officially put 'er in your files. Think of 'er as upper management, she’s me boss essentially. Oversees most, if not all, of the organizations workin' in our line o' business. Gets the las' say in 'bout 80% o' anythin'. Tough woman. Makes sure everyone gets theirs an' gets it however she deems it fair— which, ain't always exactly fair.”

“She can be a'right cunt most o' the time,” Simon grumbled.

“Don’t mind 'im, he’s jus’ pissed Laswell lets guys use ‘performance enhancin' drugs’ before fightin' 'im,” Price explained.

“Fuckin’ shits.”

You nodded, feeling your back straighten as the numbers above the doors grow higher, anxiety seeping through your skin and dripping into sweat. An image of this evil, towering, red-eyed woman popping into your head. Sharp claws that had blood dried underneath. Shadowed eyes and a serpent tongue. Sweat beading at the base of your back, joints tight as you shifted, shoes suddenly unbearable and clothes incredibly tight.

The elevator dinged, and you felt your breath suction back into your lungs, nearly making you lightheaded.

Simon shifted up straighter, hands clasped behind his back and Price was still messing with his leg, shaking it out as cursing about an old injury under his breath. As the doors opened you nearly wanted to look away, fearing you’d meet eye to eye with medusa.

Instead you saw the bright light of the floor, and a lean blonde woman standing with her arms crossed a few feet from the elevator doors. She had her hair pulled into a bun, her bangs swept across her forehead. Lips pulled into a frown and brows wrinkled together. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and her shirt was perfectly tucked into her navy slacks which fit her unbelievably well. Straight legged all the way down to cover the sleek black heel she was wearing. The air that radiated off of her reminded you of the very high up business women you’d see go off on people at your old job or who your boss would try to suck up too when they’d come in. Demanding respect and holding so much power over the room.

“You’re late,” she said, voice heavy with annoyance, she licked her teeth under her lips and sighed, “Again.”

my lovely tag list for this series:

@sophhieannee . @rafaelacallinybbay . @oceantornadoo . @jamdoughnuts . @msjaeger .

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i-dared-myself · 2 days ago

Text

Brat

Mingi x reader

In which your bodyguard teaches you your place.

18+

You knew you were trouble. Your manager knew you were trouble.

Then fans, however, didn’t know you were trouble. Your reputation was that of a perfect, sweet girl.

So they all protested when you were attacked. Somehow, the assailant had found you when you wandered off from security. They had grabbed you and threatened you, and you had screamed for your life.

After that incident, your manager hired you a personal bodyguard.

His name is Mingi, and as you stare at him, you know you’ll break him.

His black hair is styled away from his face so that you have a clear view of his thick eyebrows. His full lips are pulled downwards as he listens to your manager speak.

Sure he looks fearsome enough, but you’re tougher. You’ve made three managers quit, and you work solo for a reason.

“Hello,” you say, smiling softly. Your manager stirs uneasily beside you. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Mingi nods. “The pleasure is mine. You have nothing to worry about with me around, let me assure you.”

You cross one leg over the other, adjusting your skirt. “I’m sure.” You glance back up at him, making sure to give him the wide-eyed look you’re known for. “Thank you, Mingi.”

Your manager clears his throat, standing up. “I’ll leave you to it then. He knows your address and your schedule for the next week.”

He bows before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your newest toy.

Bodyguard.

You meant bodyguard.

“Do you want to go home now, or did you have other plans?” he asks. He gets to his feet and checks his watch.

“Mm,” you consider it, “maybe visiting a friend’s house.”

Minho’s eyes narrow slightly. “I wasn’t made aware of any of your friends getting cleared yet.”

You shyly duck your head. “I- I’m just so scared and want them to c-comfort me.”

Mingi rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Nah. We’re not doing that.”

You straighten. “Excuse me?”

Mingi pushes the door open, propping it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m bringing you home.”

You stand up with a huff. “But-“

“But what?” Mingi arches an eyebrow challengingly. “You want to be kidnapped? Because I can guarantee it won’t be the cushy life you love.”

You swallow back any attempts to scream at him, because you can still do this. There are many more chances to win.

So you force a delicate smile and follow after him. He leads you to your car, where the driver is waiting. Mingi climbs into the back with you and immediately brings out his phone.

You do the same, texting your friend about how annoying this man is. Who does he think he is?

“Hey,” Mingi suddenly says. “Buckle up.”

“What?” You look up with a crease in your forehead.

“Your seat belt.” He motions to it with a heavy sigh.

“It’s fine.” You return your attention to your phone. You’ve never died in the car before, which meant you would be fine this time.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Mingi reaches over to grab the seat belt, pulling it over you. It clicks into place before he retracts his hand.

You sneer a little bit at him, but stare out the window. It’s not worth it to snap now.

You’ll bide your time and break him, no matter how long it takes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wiggle your fingers out at your fans as you walk. Mingi is close behind on your heels, and you can sense the anger radiating off him.

You might have promised to stay by his side, only to run off the moment he looked away. He had found you, but was not very pleased with you.

You had made the last week of his life as terrible as possible. Spilling coffee on him, only to bat your eyes innocently. Staying up all night and going for walks, knowing he would have to go with you.

In short, you could tell Mingi was growing to despise you. He would eventually quit, and then you could go back to your carefree life of freedom.

“Is there a new album coming soon?” someone screams, voice cracking at the end.

You turn to their general vicinity, smiling widely. “Not officially, but…”

They all squeal in excitement, and you laugh under your breath as you keep walking. Mingi is still behind you, silently watching.

You make it to the stage, climbing the stairs as carefully as you can. Your heels are tall- taller than most that you had worn.

Mingi lingers near the base of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest. His eyebrows are pulled together as he surveys the crowd, jaw set.

You walk over to the other idols, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt. It’s not often that you work with others, but this time you want to try your best.

Maybe because of the male idol that was exactly your type.

Sharp jawline and eyes you could get lost in. He glances over to flash you a cheery smile, and you immediately fall into place by his side.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says. He tells you his name but you’re too distracted by his beauty to remember it.

The emcee for the event begins to talk, preventing you from any other conversation with this man. This man that you totally would’ve fucked.

And so the rest of it goes by, and you all file off the stage. Mingi immediately follows you.

You and the hot man.

Then you’re out of the public eye, in a hallway in the staff only section.

“Would you like to eat something with me?” he asks, eyes locked on your face.

You nod shyly. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Mingi clears his throat and leans down over your shoulder. “The hotel has room service. We’ll be using that.”

“Ignore him,” you tell the man. “This is my bodyguard, who’ll leave us alone for dinner.”

Mingi chuckles, and the low sound sends shivers down your spine. “Actually, we have to go back now.”

Mingi grips your forearm firmly and steers you away. You cast the hot man one last longing look before he’s out of sight.

“What are you doing?” you demand, ripping yourself away. You glower at him furiously, standing up to your full height.

“My job,” he answers simply. He checks his phone, uninterested. “Let’s go. The car is waiting.”

You scowl and lift your chin defiantly. “No. I don’t want to go back yet.”

Mingi slips his phone back into his pocket. “Well I do.”

You narrow your eyes. “It doesn’t matter what you want. I want to go back and have dinner with him.”

Mingi’s lower lips rolls into his mouth as he considers it. Then he smirks, cocking his head. “If you tell me what his name is, I’ll let you go back. I’ll even give you a condom if you need it.”

You glare at him. Him and his stupid face. “Joon.”

He laughs, lowly enough that your stomach clenches. “Wrong. Now come on.”

You reluctantly trail after him. The car ride to the hotel is short, but feels longer than it is. Your eyes keep getting drawn to the man sprawled across the seats opposite you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next week goes by as roughly as the last. For every move you make, Mingi is there.

You don’t talk to him much. You feign innocence when you trip him. Every time you’re late for an appointment and your manager scolds Mingi, you smile from behind your hands.

“Done for the day,” your manager says as you put your pen down. “The signing is over and they’re all going to the exit.”

Your chair scrapes on the ground as you push it away, standing up. “Where’s Mingi?”

Your manager sighs. “Bathroom.” His phone buzzes in his pants and he holds up a hand. “Excuse me.”

You grin as he walks away, already planning how to spend your evening. You dart out the doors, eager to finally get laid. It’s been forever, and it felt like it would never come with Mingi constantly around.

You take a deep breath of the fresh air, the world seeming somehow brighter without Mingi by your side. There’s so much to do, and so little time.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You whip around, eyes wide with alarm. “What-“

Mingi is leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He pushes himself off it to stalk towards you, a wide grin on his lips and a dark look in his eyes.

“Mingi!” you exclaim as he grabs your arm. He yanks you out to where your car is waiting. “What are you doing?”

He ignores you, telling the driver to go to your home.

You wiggle, attempting to break free of his hold. “Mingi!”

He puts the divider up, so the driver can’t see. Then he tugs you into his lap and pins your wrists to your front.

“Finally gonna teach you a lesson,” he murmurs into your ear. “That’s what you’ve been hoping for, yeah?”

You freeze, his words sinking in. “What?”

Mingi moves you so you’re straddling one of his thighs. “When we get back, I’m going to bend you over my knee like I’ve been wanting to for weeks, brat.”

Your brain falters for a second. “Really?”

“Someone sounds eager.” He bounces his leg and you squirm as it makes contact with you. “Are you a needy brat, or is it just because I didn’t let you fuck that man?”

“You fucking-“ You cut yourself off with an angry mutter of more curse words.

Mingi shoves two of his fingers into your mouth, hushing you softly. “Watch that mouth. We’re almost home, and then I’ll teach you a proper lesson.”

When you finally enter your house, Mingi stands there patiently. You stare at him, unsurely if what to do next.

“Well?” Mingi walks over to your couch before stretching out on it. “Are you gonna undress or not?”

You hurry to take your jacket off, flinging it to the side. It’s quickly followed by the rest of your clothes before you scramble to Mingi.

His hand comes out to stop you, and he scoffs.

“You think you’ve earned it?” He leans back and spreads his legs. “Come on, brat, do better.”

You sink to your knees and press your face to him. To the growing erection in his pants.

“Ah, you want this?” Mingi loops his fingers through your hair and wrenches your head back. “But I don’t think you’ve been good enough for it. You’re not good enough for cock.”

You whine. “But-“

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly and looks away. “Really? You’re going to argue with me?”

“N-No,” you say. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Mingi sighs and turns his hooded gaze to your face. “Then you better count, and I mean properly. If you lose track, we’re starting over.”

You nod and fist at his shirt. “Right!”

His hands go around your waist and pull you over your lap. Mingi hums as he kneads at your ass, rubbing into the bare skin.

“I think ten should do it,” he mutters. “Think you can handle it?”

“Yes,” you instantly respond. “Please just- Just do something already!”

Mingi pauses, hand lifted above your ass. “You know your colour system?”

“Yes,” you breathlessly answer. You squirm a little bit, and that’s when the first strike comes down. You lurch with the impact, barely remembering to count. “One!”

“I said count properly,” Mingi hisses out. “Did that sound proper to you?”

You desperately try to think of what’s missing. “One… out of ten?”

Mingi ‘tsks’ and lays another hit down on you. You moan softly and clutch at the fabric of his pants.

“The count doesn’t start until you do it right,” he says, stroking your hair. It’s a tender action that honestly makes you swoon more than anything else. “Think, brat.”

You rack your mind for any hint or clue of what he might want. Another smack comes down, and you whine.

“One, sir!” you yelp.

Mingi sighs in satisfaction. “There you go.”

The rest of them go by, and he’s hitting just as hard as the start. You’re fairly certain you won’t be able to sit for a week, and judging by the smug look on his face, he knows it too.

“Please, sir!” You claw at him once he’s finished. “Just fuck me!”

He laughs and stands up. You tumble off his lap and fall to the floor, staring up at him desperately.

“You really think that made up for all the torment?” Mingi questions. He rakes a hand through what used to be neatly styled hair. “And you didn’t even thank me for it. Tch.”

“Thank you, sir!” you amend, adding a pleading look to your eyes for good measure. “I’ll be so good, I promise!”

“No more spilling coffee on me?” Mingi rolls up his sleeves.

“No more,” you promise.

“You’ll listen to my instructions?” Mingi places his hands on his hips and looks down at you.

“Absolutely!” you vow.

Mingi hums for a moment. “Fine. I assume a needy little brat like you doesn’t need lube? You’re dripping already, aren’t you?”

You swallow thickly. “Maybe.”

“I want proper words,” he scolds, an edge to his tone. “Proper consent, and proper respect.”

“I want you to fuck me, please, sir.” You lick at your lips. You shuffle closer on your knees. “I’ve been so good!”

Mingi forces your head down to the ground, grabbing at your hips. He’s still fully clothed, and you can feel his pants as he grinds against you.

“No more flirting with other men.” You can hear the buckle of Mingi’s belt being undone. “I only fuck good little things. Not bratty sluts.”

You shiver at his words. “I- I’m all yours. All for you.”

Then he sinks into you, and the sudden intrusion makes you whimper. Your fingers dig at the floor, and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Just take it,” Mingi whispers softly. His hand cards through your hair affectionately. “I’ll stay like this until you’re ready.”

You take a breath before pushing back at him. It’s been so long since you’ve been stretched out like this, and it’s so good.

“Ready?” Mingi reaches around to flick at one of your nipples.

“Y-Yeah.” You squirm back against him. “Please, sir!”

The first thrust takes your breath away. The second makes you groan. And the third makes him moan and kiss your shoulder.

“Feel good?” He rolls his hips into you. You make an unintelligible noise from the back of your throat.

“Feels so good,” you tell him. “You’re so good to me.”

“Fuck yeah I am,” Mingi says confidently. “You’re lucky I didn’t just leave you. I have a feeling you’re going to be spoiled.

You snort before your eyes roll back when he hits that spongy spot. “S-Sure.”

Mingi suddenly flips you over. His arms come down on either side of you to cage you in before he captures your lips with his own.

You arch up to meet him, biting at his lower lip.

“You brat!” He grips your chin tightly and forces your head away. “You said you would behave!”

“I am!” you whine. Although you mumble out a string of apologies when he pins you down with a firm look. “Sorry, sir.”

“Make it up to me with a pretty orgasm.” Mingi pecks at your forehead before toying with your clit. “How does that sound? A nice little orgasm before I fill you up?”

You can’t tell if you’re trying to get closer to him, or further away. But the sounds you’re making are definitely positive.

“I’ll drip out of you for days.�� He presses harder at your clit. “Everyone will know you’re mine, especially that fucking Joon.”

You cum with a strangled cry, squeezing tightly around him. Mingi works you through it with continuous thrusts before tipping his head back as he follows your lead.

“I knew his name was Joon,” you mutter furiously, minutes later as he’s cleaning you up.

Mingi chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “All your dirty tricks deserved one of my own.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi #bodyguard au #brat taming #I still have a fever guys so if you see any spelling mistakes shhhhh #mingi smut

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vorchagirl · 19 hours ago

Note

“Don’t come any closer” for the prompt thing ? For Lucanis and Rook :3

(I love Untouchable btw I always get so excited when I get The AO3 Update Email)

Thank you so much for the prompt! This is a little snippet for Kash & Lucanis (technically Spite) from Untouchable. I hope you like this!

Lies

Kash heard soft footsteps on the rooftop behind her a moment before she scented Lucanis’ aftershave on the wind. Irritation, sweet and sharp, cut through her, and she wiped her eyes and gripped the edge of the roof tighter. The ground was a long way below and she sat on the very edge of the roof, her feet and legs dangling as the Treviso night sky blazed with stars above her.

Up here, it felt as though she was the only person in the world, and her problems felt very far away.

“Don’t come any closer,” she told him wearily. “I said I wanted to be alone and I meant it, Lucanis.”

The footsteps immediately stopped, and she heard a sharp intake of breath. “Not Lucanis,” a gravelly voice replied, his tone carefully neutral as though wary of upsetting her. “Me.”

Spite.

It got her attention, as the demon no doubt knew it would.

“What are you doing here? Is Lucanis okay?’ She turned to look at him, uncaring that she’d been crying for hours and probably looked horrible. A demon wouldn’t care what she looked like. He made a non-committal grumbling sound and moved closer, nimbly swinging down to sit beside her as though invited.

“Lucanis is. Angry at your Talon. And sad.” Spite scooted closer on the ledge, until his shoulder and leg brushed hers. “Worried. Everyone is worried. Rook didn’t come home.”

So they cared enough about her to worry if she vanished, but not enough to tell her truth about who she really was. But then, she thought bitterly, a useful tool was no good if it was misplaced, so of course they cared that she hadn't come home. Fresh tears leaked from her eyes, and the distant view of the ground blurred.

“I needed some time to think.”

The demon faced her, glowing eyes narrowed as he reached out a hand and caught one of her tears on the tip of his finger. “Rook is. Still sad?”

She nodded, her throat tightening all over again at the truth that had been kept from her for so long. At the lie she had built her identity sound. The mockery which she had become. Viago was no more her hero and saviour then she was his. She was just leverage against the Antivan King and the merchant prince families.

Everything she had believed in was a lie.

“I am not Lucanis,” Spite told her softly, and he put an arm around Kash, pulling her close as she began to cry again. “But he regrets. He is sad too.”

“He lied to me!” Kash buried her face against Spite's chest as he flared his wings, wrapping them tightly about her in a comforting cocoon. “They all lied to me!”

He growled softly and shook his head. “Lucanis did not lie. Not his secret. To tell. He wanted to. Your Talon said no. Coward.” Spite tightened his arms around her, and she felt him sniff the air. “I will stay with Rook. Despair is near. Lingers. Waits.”

She couldn't tell whether Spite was making it up to give himself a plausible excuse to stay by her side while she cried, or if he meant it. And she didn't care. The wounds in her heart ached terribly, and despite her earlier words, she didn't want to be alone anymore.

Spite didn't say anything else as she cried, he just tightened his arms around her and lay his cheek on top of her head.

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #rookanis #lucanis x rook #spite x rook #lucanis dellamorte #spite dellamorte

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themioka · 1 day ago

Text

Shaw pack head cannons. I have pt2

Marie took up healing magic so that pack members wouldn't have to spend money to go to a healer after getting injured or sick. It wa her way of showing gratitude towards her pack for what they'd done for her and Milo.

Colm wanted Milo to work for the department, going so far to try and steer Milo in the direction of doing so. However, Milo was quick to catch on what Colm was doing, and the two broke out into a massive argument about it.

Asher's parents always felt guilty for leaving Asher behind in pursuit of traveling around the world. While yes he's an adult, and had the support of his packmates, unlike his sister who they where present for the majority of her life up until she moved with her husband back to his pack and hometown. They immediately left the moment Asher could legally care for himself. Asher didn't blame them, nor did he hold any kind of grudge against them. He just kinda wished they stuck around longer before they up and left.

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Milo has a sleeper build body, and it drives Sweetheart wild whenever he decides to flex just to get a rise out of them. He gets a huge ego boost out of it every time, too.

Milo is the very much, I love to stay /hang out more but I have to go check on my cat and make sure he's doing okay and that he gets fed, etc, kind of person.

Whenever Milo is coming home from a rough or stressful job, he'll just pick up Aggro and Sweetheart, before heading to the bedroom to snuggle with the two, gaining a few cheek/forehead kisses from Sweetheart before all three fall asleep in each other embrace.

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One time, Sweetheart spooked Milo into shifting out of fear, and they've never felt so bad in their life until now. Just immediately pulled Milo's wolf into a tight hug as they apologized to Milo, their hand instinctively running through his fur as they kept hugging him til Milo slowly shifted back. They managed to get a laugh about the whole thing, but it took a bit of convincing from Milo that he was absolutely fine from the whole thing.

Whenever Sweetheart is experiencing a panic attack or feels an oncoming attack, Milo's either away on a job or hanging out with the pack members. They'll go to hide in their shared closet until it passes, unaware that Aggro is following them until Aggro is crawling into their lap and begins nuzzling Sweetheart, making biscuits on their lap, or making "conversation" by constantly meowing at Sweetheart. Manging to calm down, Sweetheart will thank Aggro before carrying him to the bed to take a small nap with him. Only to wake up to Milo petting their head as he lays across from them, and Aggro curled up between them, purring loudly.

Sweetheart, who'll make sure everything is up to code on Quinn's security/containment, double checking and ensuring the man doesn't even have a chance at escaping. Sending a list of details and updates of what they've gathered to the pack group chat at the end of their shfit before heading home.

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Darlin struggles to break their terrible habit of hiding bruises, cuts, etc. They won't even acknowledge whatever cut or bruises they have until someone points it out. Sometimes getting a bit defensive about the whole thing, as they're still not used to the idea of relying or asking for help from others.

Darlin swears they're not a good teacher, that they don't know or can't teach, and on top of it, someone who isn't an exact role model. Yet, can't say no whenever one of the younger pack members come to them on help on either learning on how to fight in their wolf form, getting better a shifting, etc.

Darlin is covered in various scars, small, big, either faint or not, depending on how old they are, either visible from afar others you can't really see unless you're up close.

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Whenever Sam joins in on pack runs, the others even David will try and race against him, and he'll indulge in their antics, pretending to slow down and acting a bit tired before blowing past them with ease.

Has gotten caught up in their spins out though it typically gets a chuckle out of him, because they always end up in a tangled mess, and he's trying to get them to hold still while he untangled them rather than having them wiggle around as they untangle themselves from each other limbs.

Sam will give Darlin a few words of encouragement whenever they're struggling to interact with the pack. He is struggling to hide the look of pride on his face whenever Darlin does it without help.

Sam, who's made to sit separately from Darlin during pack movie nights by Asher, because the two always end up falling asleep, not even halfway through the movie. Asher's attempts fail though because the two just "magically" find themselves right next to each other a few minutes later and are vast asleep, Sam having a tight yet gentle grip around Darlin's waist keeping them close and tight against him.

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David used to be in between a heavy sleeper and a light sleeper. However, after the inversion, he became an extremely light sleeper at the time, practically waking up to the sound of the blanket moving. He's gotten a bit better over time, but every now and then, he'll be awoken by the tiniest of noise.

Saw someone say that Darlin possibly has a limp due from the fights they've been in, 100% agree on it, yet overtime Darlin has learned how to adapt and normally functional with it, almost as if they've never had it. But given their age, they sometimes struggle to keep up on pack runs, so David will act as support and stick by them as they run together.

David gets dragged into the little playful scuffles that are mostly started by Asher, though he acts a bit annoyed by it. You can tell he enjoys these kinds of things that allow him to act like a kid/teen again. He'll sometimes switch up on sides every now and then or just team up on Asher with Milo and Darlin, ignoring Asher complaints that 3v1 is unfair.

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Angel will help David in looking for places that are suitable for Sam, of anything they can possibly bring with them if the place they're going to doesn't have much or doesn't offer any kind of shade, just to ensure Sam doesn't miss out on anything even if he claims he does mind being exclude from a few things.

(Both David and Angel won't allow it)

Whenever Angel manages to get David to lie on top of them, they'd usually have to hold onto him to get him to stay because he'll only lay on them for a few minutes, before trying to move, because he believes they'll end up hurt if he stays on top of them longer than usual.

Angel enjoys poking David's sides as they love getting a reaction out of him. Sometimes, David will pull them close to him in a tight embrace, growling in their ear for them to stop, or he'll punish them later for their behavior.

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You know those people who always have their arm around or hands on the person shoulders they're standing right next to because it feels weird if they don't or like have no idea what to do with their limbs in general. And on top of it, they give that little shoulder side pat or do that little shake when they get excited or happy about it. That's Asher, and it doesn't matter who it is, Babe, David, basically anyone who's close in range, Asher automatically has an arm slung over them or a hand on their shoulder.

Asher is very popular with kids since he's down to play with them whenever they invite/nag him to come play with them. Answers their questions with a silly response before going on to ask them questions that typically get a laugh out of them. Gets a laugh at pretending to scare the absolute crap out of their parents whenever he pretends he's dropped the kid whenever holding them. 100%, the one who starts tickle fights among the children. It's not uncommon for him to be the children jungle gym. On top of it, he'll be having a conversation with someone while it's happening and is 100% unphased by it.

Asher who'll jump onto one of the packmates back in a surprise greeting, the other typically being able to support the sudden weight but every now and then, it's enough to send both of them to the floor.

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Babe frequently smacks Asher's hand away whenever they're eating in or out, because no matter how much of their food they give Asher, it seems he's always coming back for more but at this point it's 50/50 for either more food or loving the reaction he's getting out of Babe.

Babe loves getting a rise out of Asher whenever they're over at Milo's and Sweetheart's place and just start loving on Aggro while Asher is whining at them. Milo often joins in, telling Babe how they should get a cat and telling them the perks about owning one, Babe acting all interested in what Milo's telling them all while "ignoring" Asher who's clinging onto them and whining on how they don't need a cat as they have him who is in his words much cooler than a cat.

Every now and then, whenever they're eating in or out, Babe will pretend they're full and offer the rest of their food to Asher, who's been eyeballing their plate after finishing his food.

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted darlin #milo greer #redacted milo #redacted sam #sam collins #asher talbot #david shaw #redacted babe #redacted angel #redacted sweetheart #redacted shaw pack #redacted asher #redacted david #redacted fandom

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 3 days ago

Note

“If Chloe caused Marinette’s trauma, then why they’ve United to humiliate Kagami in “Animaestro”?

To be fair, I’ve read a post which was written a long time ago where one user said that Marinette uniting with Chloe to do the same things to Kagami that Chloe was doing to Marinette for years was Out Of Character for her. And this was before the first draft of infamous “Derision” was ever written…

Two things can be true at once. You can criticize Animaestro in the context canon has put it in while also agreeing that it and Derision don't fit the narrative and basically have to be discarded to make any sense of canon. I take both of these stances and will happily explain them.

If Derision was "always the plan," then Animaestro's writing choices make the writers look extra terrible as it means that they had no issues making their lead put another person through the same kind of traumatizing humiliation that she'd gone through herself. Even worse, Marinette inflicts that trauma by willing joining up with the instigator of her own trauma, never once stopping to wonder if this is too far. She's too obsessed with her crush to care about another person's suffering. It's perfectly reasonable to look at these two moments and come away hating her. It's even reasonable to just hate her after Animaestro. That wasn't a good look.

Even if Derision wasn't always the plan, the writers still wrote it after writing Animaestro, not caring how that choice would effect people's view of Marinette's actions. It's not reasonable to expect your audience to disregard one episode in favor of another. People aren't being unfair for taking these two episodes at face value.

If you want to tell a good story, you have to own what you've already written and allow that to limit what ideas work for your story no matter how good they are in a vacuum. Animaestro and Derision are just generally a bad episodes, but they should never coexist unless Marinette is supposed to be seen as a bad person OR Marinette is getting a complex arc around overcoming her trauma and Adrien obsession. It is perfectly fair to ask why we're not getting either of those since the writers chose to make all of this mess canon.

However, I also agree that Marinette's actions in Animaestro are just generally not suited to her character. The show did a terrible job of writing Marinette and Kagami's cat fight over Adrien. Because every conflict had to be established and resolved in 20-minutes or less, Marinette was constantly coming up with random petty, unflattering, and downright insane takes on Kagami. It made Marinette come across like a total mean girl in several season three episodes which sucks when you consider the way the conflict was played in season two. Episodes like Frozer allowed Marinette to have a good balance of jealously and being a good person making her feel realistic, but not a petty mean girl.

In Frozer, Marinette sent Adrigami on a date to the ice rink and went along to help Adrien even though her girl friends told her to back out:

Alya: This is gonna be your worst mess up in history. You have got to get yourself out of this right now. Ideas girls! Quick! Alix: Tell him you'd already promised to hang with your GFs. Rose: Maybe you got lost on the way over? Juleka: Maybe you're gonna go to a concert? Mylène: You had to finish an essay on Periwinkle's migration. Marinette: Actually, girls... I don't think I want to cancel. All Girls: Huh? Marinette: Adrien really needs me and if he wants my advice then why not? After all, it's not an issue and I'm definitely not jealous because... Rose: Because you two love each other. Marinette: Because there's nothing between us. (looks down sadly) Alya: What do you mean nothing between you? Mylène: There's everything between you, actually. Marinette: I always jumble my words around him. So how could I even manage going out on a date? I think we're actually just meant to be friends. Whenever I talk to him as a friend, I hardly stammer at all. That's a sign right there. Right?

And when they were at the rink, Marinette gave Adrien actual good advice:

Adrien: I don't know what to do about Kagami. Should I offer to hold her hand? Marinette: You have to let her fall. Adrien: Huh? Marinette: No, what I actually meant was that you cannot let her fall in any way. I mean, do whatever you can so that she doesn't fall.

If you have to include a petty fight over a boy, this a decent way to do it. Show Marinette struggling, but ultimately doing the right thing. Acknowledge the temptation to sabotage the date, but let her be a good person in the end. Don't go the Animaestro route which makes Marinette come across as both awful and delusional:

Marinette: I'm not too sure about this. Chloé: Fine! Keep on not being sure about it and tomorrow, Adrien and Kagami will be on a plane headed for Japan! Marinette: Adrien? Japan? There's no way! Chloé: You think? They're already going to the movies together, their parents are signing papers together. (camera zooms in on Mrs. Tsurugi in the background, stamping a document with her signature) Marinette: (imagines Adrien and Kagami on a plane and dancing with kimonos on) We can't let her do that!

The fact that Marinette agrees to sabotage Kagami could be overlooked if she stopped herself before actually doing anything. We all have bad moments. But she doesn't stop. She spends a good chunk of the episode working with Chloé and there is no defense for that. Marinette is absolutely in the wrong here.

We can acknowledge that while also acknowledging that Marinette's actions also don't make any sense in the same timeline as Frozer which happened a full season before Animaestro. In both episodes, Adrien is on a date with Kagami. Why is Marinette willing to be the better person in one situation and not the other? What changed? Why was she better on an actual date than she was on what is arguably a friend-date where Adrien is just being Kagami's escort? Why was Marinette able to push aside her friends telling her to bail on date one - reasonable advice - while being totally susceptible to Chloé's insane advice that they should sabotage date two?

There is no in-universe answer and that's why I'm willing to agree that this episode just generally shouldn't exist. It adds nothing to the story and is a poor choice when you look at where this plot started and where it ends. We go from supportive Marinette in Frozer to sabotaging Marinette in Animaestro to supportive Marinette in Hearhunter, which has Marinette once again supporting Adrigami on a date:

André: Which flavors for these two? [Kagami and Adrien] Orange and peppermint, a perfect pairing that's always a success; nothing can turn it into a mess. And for you two [Adrien and Marinette] blackberry and peppermint, an explosive mix that's a fact but often times it's the opposites that attract. Orange and blackberry, quite unusual it's true not the most obvious but it works for you two. So what will it be? Kagami: You pick. I don't really get what he's saying anyway. Adrien: Yeah, you pick, Marinette. We trust you. Marinette: Can't you find a blend for the three of us? André: I can, but too many flavors mixed together may throw off the delicate balance. Marinette: I don't know. Blackberry and peppermint doesn't seem like a great pair. And what if the mint finds the blackberry lame and wants to be with the orange instead? And it's true that orange and peppermint are awesome together and well orange and blackberry just doesn't seem like they go together. (looks at Kagami and Adrien together, walks up to André) Look I think your first idea was the best. The orange and peppermint ice cream for.. for my friends here. André (concerned) Are you sure Marinette? (she nods, Adrien approaches cart) Marinette (walks away and speaks to Kagami) I'm gonna head back to the palace. I told my parents I'd bring them back those cocktail umbrellas.

And, yes, Marinette does mess up the date by getting Kagami to help in the day's akuma fight, but that's way more in line with her Frozer behavior than her Animaestro behavior because it's not petty jealousy. Marinette didn't come up with a way to mess up the date. She was going to let it happen until the akuma attack, which had already messed up the date anyway. That's a far more complex and nuanced way to play the conflict. It's not the actions of a mean girl. Where did Animaestro-Marinette go?

The only way to make Animaestro fit in a functional character arc is to have to come at the start. You don't put an episode like this or Ikari Gozen after Frozer. That's just bad writing. I'd even argue that Animaestro is a bad fit in general because you don't need to take Marinette that far to give her a solid arc around "sisters before misters."

While Ikari Gozen has its own issues, it has Marinette being more avoidant than mean, which is about as far as I'd take her. There is no reason to make her sink to Chloé's level. It just makes Marinette look bad for no good reason, especially when Chloé is right there, able to take the villain role on her own! It's glaringly obvious that this episode only plays the way it does because of the stupid "Marinette must always do something wrong" rule and not because of some greater story reason. Without that rule, Animaestro could have been a perfectly fine episode where Chloé acted on her own, leading Marinette to realize how bad it is to let jealousy drive your actions, which would have been a wonderful lesson!

The "Marinette's character has to be warped so she's always in the wrong" rule is why I can get pretty defensive of Marinette. It's not that I think her actions are okay, they're often 100% not, they're just also clearly writing issues and not intentional character beats. I'd feel very different if Marinette's worst moments were ongoing flaws or part of a character arc, but they're not. They're generally one-off moments that could be removed from the story and no one would notice. Marinette doesn't even learn anything in Animaestro!!! She never apologizes for what she did or anything like that. The best we get is:

Marinette: I promise I'll never take Chloé's advice again!

Which is not the right lesson here!!! Everything about this episode is so frustrating! Marinette should be able learn lessons without having to be the one to mess up, damn it!

#skywarpus #marinette deserves better #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #ml's wacky morals #character core

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angelsberrymilk · 17 hours ago

Note

I need to know if Sam's puppy dog eyes work on Soldier Boy like they do on Dean 👀

+18. mdni

oh they do, I promise you they do.

they're so effective in fact that Sammy has stopped him from committing many hate crimes and escalating minor situations to deadly degrees. Sammy's puppy dog eyes affect him on a bone deep level, he doesn't know why they work so well on him, but soldier boy is annoyed.

that's one of the reasons why when soldier boy finally decided he wanted to fuck Sammy, he gave him the lube bottle, he didn't want to get too close to those wet puppy eyes, all he did was watch Sam stretch himself out on his own long fingers. eyes zeroed on his pink hole instead. ignoring Sammy's face.

and that's why when soldier boy first took Sammy, he did it while pinning his head down on the bed, by the neck, on his belly, so he wouldn't turn around and flash those devastatingly beautiful eyes at him. so he could have his way without something like guilt stopping him. he knew exactly what he was doing. he's a terrible brute. the worst of them all.

Sammy also immediately realises he has some sort of power over soldier boy; his puppy dog eyes. and he uses it whenever the situation calls for it. whenever soldier boy is about to commit some heinous act. Sammy makes sure his puppy dog eyes are extra big, intense, his hair extra fluffy and his shoulders hunched, appearing smaller than he actually is. and it works everytime.

that's why when soldier boy's blood thirst gets too much, he's pissy and extra mean. he goes out looking for trouble. he says he's patrolling but Sammy knows that he's looking to kill some poor sod, a homeless person sleeping somewhere where they shouldn't be, or a bunch of children kicking ball in a hotel's parking lot. Sammy tries to distract him with a football game, some good brother bonding time, and when it doesn't work, he tells soldier to take it out on him instead, that he can take it (he can't).

soldier boy laughs in his face and goes ahead to leave. Sammy threatens to run away if soldier boy leaves and Ben's solution is to bring Sammy with. he can't run away now, can he?

soldier boy finds his next target, a young couple smoking weed or something in a deserted McDonald's, Sam tries to convince to let them be, they're not doing anything wrong. But Ben doesn't want to hear it.

At this point Sammy is shaking with anger and fear, he can't stop him, can't even hurt him because even when he punches him, Ben doesn't even feel it, his skin is unbreakable, he doesn't bruise, doesn't break. and the only mercy that Soldier boy offers Sammy is 3 simple words, "Don't look, Sam,"

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hyperbolicreverie · 2 days ago

Note

For the Director's Cut ask game, in Losing Time

How was the reaction of mugiwaras when Robin explained about flevance? And in what moment she did?

Robin would have explained during that first night, while Penguin and Shachi and Bepo were off doing their own painful explanations to the rest of the Heart Pirates. And it wouldn't be a terribly detailed explanation, either: one, Robin respects Law's rights to privacy as much as she can in this instance, and two, she herself does not have the whole truth of what happened, which means she can only take her own knowledge and the few other bits that they have (what Penguin and Shachi say, the small anecdotes Sanji remembers) and try to explain that way. She's a good historian; she'd never make concrete assertions without all the facts or the permission of a primary source ie. Law.

So what she says more or less boils down to "Flevance was destroyed because of a perceived plague that the government aided and abetted in the exacerbation of, and contributed to the destruction of to hide their own involvement. Law is the last survivor of that genocide."

As for reactions...we know Sanji's and Robin's, since they were there for the initial discussion. The rest?

Nami gets that explanation and I think a lot of things click into place for her. She's very smart, and I think she'd make a lot of connections to how Law acts in the face of certain triggers (loss of control, for example) and see herself in that. And she loves children, so now she has to confront the fact that the quiet little boy from the forest becomes the Law she knows. (Maybe she wonders how different she's become from how she was before her own tragedy).

Franky cries. Of course Franky cries. He probably blubbers something about how impressive it is for Law to have held up in the face of that, and if adult!Law saw that he'd probably threaten to chop his limbs off because he'd be embarrassed.

Chopper, predictably, is absolutely horrified. On like, every level. On the medical misunderstandings, on the abandonment of the government, of the lack of care. Chopper already likes Law, and he knows what it's like to lose something to a medical condition you do not know how to heal.

Zoro's take on it is fairly pragmatic. He's experienced life not being fair. He knows that sometimes people just die and there's nothing you can do about it. Law has proven that he's made of strong stuff before this point, and this only proves that point more. If anything, in addition to sympathizing, Zoro respects him more.

Luffy's reaction is basically what you get in the chapter where he talks to little Law. He makes those possible connections between Law's actions in Marineford and Ace, and later when he learns about Lami about how that adds even more context. However, Luffy is Luffy, and he's not ever going to act differently around Law or poke him for more information. He doesn't share himself, and it's fine that Torao doesn't either. If Law wants to talk, he can talk. If he doesn't, that's fine too. Luffy already likes Law and knows what sort of person he is.

Brook knows death. He's polite enough to not comment on seeing the clear markers of tragedy on others, but I imagine getting the explanation fills in a lot of questions he had about Law.

Jinbei is probably the least surprised. He knows what the World Government does and he knows all the sorts of things that can drive people into piracy. It's just a shame that he has to keep adding to that tally, because he considers Law to be an honorable sort. He saved his life. And now this.

Usopp is freaked. Law is one of the most powerful people he's met personally (and one who doesn't want him dead). It's a reminder that on the Grand Line, no one is immune from bad luck, bad experiences, and you're always just an inch away from the worst day of your life.

#rev speaks

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romanreignsbae · 7 hours ago

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Bloodline dating b!tchy reader:

Roman - Roman is known for having a short temper. Your smart mouth doesn’t help your case in any shape or form. The little slick comments you tend to sneak in here or there while Roman’s talking don’t go unnoticed. If your in a family or friend setting he'll keep his cool for the moment, but the second you get home best believe there's gonna be no attitude left in you by the time he's done you. While he'd never admit it you, he absolutely loves the sass and attitude you give, he finds it extremely attractive.

"Where did all that attitude go now huh?" Roman huffed out while pounding into your cunt relentlessly. “M’ so so sorry daddy!” you pleaded. You could feel the way his balls were bruising the skin around your now puffy pussy. Shifting his angle Roman began brutally assaulting your g-spot causing you to scream out. “Please- please let me cum daddy!” you pleaded for mercy as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His hand was brought right to you cheek slapping it lightly, not once stopping the relentless abuse on your g-spot. “Hey hey, keep those pretty eyes on me.. and then maybe I’ll let you cum like the little slut you are.” Boy, was this gonna a be a long night..

Jey - Jey is a certified hothead, everyone knows this. So being disrespected by the person he loves most? That ain’t gonna slide with him. The two of you were sharing a nice dinner until it was suddenly ruined by your waiter completely messing up your meals, you already started the day off on the wrong side of the bed and immediately stormed out of the restaurant not even waiting for dinner to be served. Of course Jey followed behind you, and told you to cut it out, but you being your petty self refused to go back inside. So he drove you home, and even on the way back stopped to pick up some fast food for you, cause he insisted he didn’t want his girl to be hungry. Bur for some reason nothing would cut it for you and you continued rolling you eyes, sighing of boredom of him speaking, and even ignoring him.

By the time you got home he was completely done with having you behaving like this. “Getcho ass over here..” You moved up the stairs in a rush attempting to get away from the furious man who was standing at the bottom of the stairs. The sound of sneakers loudly moving up the stairs behind you. The heels you decided to wear weren’t helping your case in anyway. “Watch what I do with yo ass now” Jey’s voice crept up as a large hand came across your neck tightening teasingly and another hand moved across your stomach protectively. His hardened crotch pressed up against your backside causing you to let out a sigh knowing what was coming next. You were in for it now.

Jimmy - Jimmy was never ever a serious guy. He could crack a joke in the darkest moments of your lives and still evoke a laugh out of you. He was laid back, cool and collected. But when you disrespected him…that was one of the few times you’ll ever see big Jim serious or upset. In one specific instance, Jimmy had decided he would take you out for a nice meal. Fancy restaurant and everything. You appreciated the idea heavily and began getting ready for the night out. But from there on out nothing was going your way. Your hair wasn’t cooperating, your makeup didn’t look right, and you couldn’t find anything nice to wear that satisfied you. In the car you were grumpy with Jimmy but he thought it would die down when you got your food. He just assumed you were hangry.

But he was terribly wrong. The whole time you rolled your eyes at him, ignored him, and avoided eye contact with him. You knew deep down he didn’t deserve it but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Quit it with your attitude. Now.” He ordered with anger slowing masking his face. “Fuck off” you murmured while staring at the floor. “The fuck you say?” When the two of you got back into the car he wasted no time yanking you into the back seat and pulling your mini dress up, your ass exposed to the cool air in the car. Without warning he spanked you as hard as he could causing you to yelp out in pain. You could feel the burning sensation he was bringing upon you with his bare hand. “Count before I double the amount..” you counted to 15 when he finally let up on you. “Say sorry now.” he looked at your face that was covered in tears. “I’m sorry.” You said softly. He moved his hand up to your chin moving your face upward. “I’m sorry for having to do that. I love you.” He moved in to softly kiss you.

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yezhi1k · 3 days ago

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Three is a party! (Vampire AU jaymelvik)

Notes: hiiiiiii! Uni is tearing me a new one so naturally I had to spend my time writing jaymelvik smut instead of actually getting shit done. As usual, I am sorry for any typos and my AO3 is MisanthropicMoose if you prefer reading there :)

Summary: Viktor and Mel think they are alone in their struggles of being vampires, being unaware that the other is also stuck in the same boat. Once they found out, they hatch a plan to have a little fun with the one person they've always wanted.

CW: SMUT!!! Threesome, vampirism, blood, biting, choking, spanking, immobilisation.

Word count: 6.7k

Without ever knowing it, Mel and Viktor had much more in common than initially met the eye. After all, what could the good-willed, charismatic counselor and a reclusive, yet genius scientist possibly have in common? Every second of their lives, from the moment they were born, the two spent in different places, around different people, with different passions in their hearts. It seemed as though the two were destined to move through the fabric of time in parallel lines; never much too far from one another yet never destined to intersect.

The two had one vital similarity. A terrible, deep secret which both had harbored deep within themselves, only ever shedding the mask in the cover of darkness. The truth lurked in the blackness of their pupils, circulated through their veins, was hidden in the curves of their mouths, shielded from sight by their upper lips. Whenever Mel sat in on a particularly difficult counselor meeting, or when Viktor was glued to his chalkboard, calculating wildly, their tongues would instinctively glide over the sharp canines nested within their gums in a fashion so familiar, one could assume that they spent their entire lives watching the other perform that very action. The pang of maddening hunger they both felt whenever the metallic scent of blood from someone’s papercut or scraped knee reached their noses, the frantic firing of synapses as they battelled the nagging bloodlust, if either knew that the other felt the same they would have surely found solace in each other sooner. But alas, the counselor and the scientist remained, despite being tormented by an identical affliction, solitary. They seldom interacted, only ever exchanging cordial, impersonal greetings whenever they happened to pass one another in the spacious halls of the Academy. There was no denial that, perhaps, their gazes lingered for a fraction of a second longer than what seemed natural, that they subconsciously gravitated closer to each other despite the vast amounts of space around them, but none of that facilitated a closeness intimate enough for their secrets to be revealed.

They had another common link – Jayce Talis. The shining prodigy of Piltover. The Man of Progress. Being both a scientist and a counselor, he drifted in both of their waters, fitting into the scenery of the lab just as naturally as he did in the counselor meeting room. He performed an intricate dance, brushing skin-to-skin with Viktor as he mused over the brunette man’s notes, before melting into Mel’s embrace on the balcony of the Academy whilst overlooking the vastness of Piltover. Jayce felt a magnetic pull in two distinct directions, and distress often took hold of his heart as he tried to determine with whom his true loyalties aligned. Sometimes, in the late hours of the night, after an eternity of tossing and turning, Jayce would find his boxers awfully tight, and his hand moved, as if on its own volition, to the source of his discomfort. As he palmed himself through the fabric, heart beating wildly, pupils so dilated they drunk up the darkness around him, his mind switched rapidly between two very different visions. The delicate curve of Mel’s neck, adorned with a gold necklace which contrasted so strikingly against the deep richness of her silky skin. Viktor’s honey-glazed eyes looking up at him from his notes, clouded with exhaustion from endless hours of work. The shallow rising and falling of Mel’s chest as she prepared to debate someone at the counselor table. Viktor’s long, slender fingers wrapped around a wrench. Eventually, the kaleidoscope of visions merged into one picture: both figures, so physically different yet so equally alluring to Jayce, intertwined, writhing wildly against one another in a devilish tango. Mel would always be on top, pressing the scientist’s frail figure onto the desk. His fingers would be entangled in her hair, her loosening his Academy tie as their mouths clashed against one another in a hot, messy, almost animalistic way. Every so often, the counselor would grind down, careful not to put too much pressure on Viktor’s bad leg, and a cacophony of their moans would reverberate through Jayce’s mind as he reached his climax, the evidence of his fantasies coating yet another pair of boxers. As he stared off into the darkness, catching his breath, conflicting feelings bubbled within him. He felt hedonistic, gluttonous. He wanted to taste both Mel and Viktor equally, and, to his chagrin, he also realized that he had a taste for both of their flavors combined. At times he would let his mind wonder, trying to concoct a strategy via which he could bring his two passions together, to maybe even get to indulge them both. However, post-release, a warm, comfortable fatigue enveloped him, and he abandoned the thought exercise for the night. That would be just too good to ever come true.

“I feel like the last Day of Progress was just yesterday, and yet it’s upon us again.”

Viktor’s gaze shot up from his glass, filled half-way with a light, Piltovian wine. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the sweetness, in private developing a taste for the banned Noxian export. But ultimately, if it got him drunk enough to get him through another stuffy, pretentious social gathering, the scientist was happy with anything. His eyes suddenly met emerald, encased in gold, and his breath stifled in his chest. Despite their very limited interaction, Counselor Medarda’s presence never failed to shoot a shiver down his spine. Something about the grace and agility with which she moved through the world, the way the sun reflected off the gold jewelry in her dark locks, the way the cascading light streamed down her burgundy grown with a deep slit which exposed one of her supple thighs evoked a certain feeling within Viktor he couldn’t quite place… it was more than just respect or admiration. It more so resembled… hunger? No, that’s impossible. He must’ve gotten too drunk already, Viktor told himself.

“Indeed,” he murmured, casting his gaze back onto the bottom of his glass, “can’t say that all of these festivities are particularly pleasant to me.”

Mel let out a melodic chuckle and brought her own glass to her lips. As she sipped, her eyes never left Viktor, observing the way his soft locks fell over his eyes, framing his face. This was a rare opportunity; up to this point she never managed to spend any time alone with the scientist, despite the burning curiosity she harbored for him. Something about his quiet, yet self-assured demeanor seemed entirely intoxicating, the counselor even finding herself somewhat flustered at times. Of course, she expertly hid any signs of her affection for him, and yet the desire to get to know him more grew with every passing day.

“That’s a shame. I’m sure some of these people would be overjoyed to talk to one of the greatest minds behind Hextech,” she gestured around the ballroom, filled to the brim with high profile guests. The event’s extravagance seemed to grow with every passing year, and what was once a day of appreciation of the newest scientific achievements of Piltover had now merged into lavish bidding wars between the wealthiest investors. Viktor scoffed and tipped the glass over, letting the final drops of his drink fall onto his tongue.

“With all due respect, Counselor Medarda, I would not be at all overjoyed to have to tolerate the presence of anyone in this room.”

Mel brought a hand to her chest, her face now contorted into an over-exaggerated expression of offence.

“Even me, Viktor?”

Warmth spread across Viktor’s cheeks, and he turned his head in attempt to hide the effect Mel saying his name had on him. He loved the way it rolled off her tongue, both syllables sounding awfully sweet slipping past her lips. Somewhere deep within, he couldn’t help but imagine the sultry way his name would rip from the counselor’s mouth as he sunk his tongue into her. He quickly swatted the thought away. Man, this Piltovian shit tasted like juice, yet hit hard.

“Of course not, counselor,” Viktor looked up at her, the amber in his eyes flickering playfully in the chandelier light as his digit traced the rim of his glass, “Your presence is always… utterly delightful.”

It was now Mel’s turn to conceal the warmth spreading throughout her body. Damn this man, she thought, no wonder Jayce likes him so much.

“Please, just call me Mel,” she tried to come off as nonchalant as possible, “It might be about time we get more familiar with one another.”

A smirk spread across Viktor’s face. The bags under his eyes revealed a state of incredible exhaustion, and yet the way his brows furrowed, and his eyes retained their laser-sharp focus made him irresistible.

“Do you care for another drink, Mel?” he savored the syllable on his tongue, letting it float off into the air. He found himself wanting to say it again and again, like a mantra.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Mel smiled at him and waved at the nearest waiter with a tray full of filled glasses. He nodded politely and scurried over to the counselor, extending his arm a bit, allowing her to take a pick of the identical glasses. With a courteous smile, Mel set her and Viktor’s empty glasses onto the tray and picked up two new ones, passing one to the man. For a split second, the tips of their fingers brushed against one another, sending a spike of electricity through both of them. For a few moments they sipped on their drinks, scanning everyone in the room. Both independently found Jayce in the crowd; he was dashing, dressed in a spotless tailored white suit which contrasted deliciously against his caramel skin, clean shaven and doused in cologne, he was working his charm on the newest Hextech investors. The counselor and the scientist both watched as the Man of Progress brought a gloved hand of some unknown woman to his slips, planting a soft kiss onto her knuckles, and both felt an irrational pang of jealousy in the pits of their stomachs.

A loud crash a few steps away from them tore them away from their observations. The waiter from earlier seemed to have lost control over the heavy tray, and it came crashing down onto the marble floor, sparks of crystal shards scattering in every direction. The poor man, pale and mortified, dove down onto the floor, attempting to collect the biggest shards onto the tray as his fellow coworkers rushed around for a broom and a pan. Suddenly, a sharp hiss emanated from the man, and he brought a finger to his lips. The scent immediately hit Mel; it was blood. The sweet, heavy, iron smell of blood filled her nostrils and traveled down to her lungs, and the counselor momentarily shut her eyes, knowing perfectly well that right about now the emerald of her eyes was cloaked over with a sheen of crimson. After a few seconds of steadying her breath, Mel instinctively looked over at Viktor, and the sight caught her off guard: the man sat with his elbows buried into his knees, palms cast over his face, jaw tight. Mel could have sworn she saw his shoulders rise and fall heavily, and as he felt her curious gaze on him and raised his head, there was no mistaking it – the honey pools of his eyes have become discolored with drops of blood. As their fiery gaze lingered on one another, neither could believe what they were seeing. They knew, as they looked into the eyes of the other, their own identical reflection was looking back at them, that they were both equally afflicted by the man’s blood, that they were one and the same. Before either could speak, Mel made a few haste steps towards Viktor and frantically pulled him up by the elbow, the man barely having the chance to grab his cane as she dragged him away into a dark corridor leading out of the ballroom. The tapping of his cane on the marble was drowned out by the chatter of the guests, who had long forgotten the waiter’s troubles and returned to whatever mindless chatter they were engaged in prior. When they reached the darkness of the corridor, Mel pressed Viktor against the cool wall, her chest inches away from his.

“Counselor–” the scientist was cut off by Mel’s thumb finding its way to his upper lip, lifting it up above his canine tooth. The procedure was utterly unnecessary, but she felt like she had to make one final check to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her. Sure enough, Viktor’s canines were elongated and razor sharp, the light of the ballroom dancing on the ivory surface. Mel’s eyebrow twitched and she let out a low chuckle.

“Unbelievable,” the counselor muttered, finally releasing Viktor, letting him regain his balance on his cane, “And I thought I was entirely alone around here.”

Viktor scoffed and ran a hand through his disheveled locks, glowing red eyes finding Mel’s figure in the dark.

“I must say I’m equally surprised, counselor. I would’ve never thought I would have anything in common with a woman of such a high standing.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the corridor as the two tried to make sense of their situation. Both had hoped to one day find those like themselves, to not feel so alone in their suffering and bloodlust, but to find out that they were so close the whole time? To fathom that the only person capable of understanding their condition was also the one they felt such a strong gravitational pull to? The thought was confronting.

Finally, Viktor cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

“Well,” he started, moving closer to Mel in the darkness until he could hear her breath, “I am glad that it’s you I get to share my state of being with. You know, I was always afraid that once I discovered someone like myself I would find them insufferable. It’s good to know that that is not the case.”

Mel smiled and found Viktor’s hand, resting on his cane, and grazed his knuckles with the pads of her fingers.

“You flatter me, Viktor,” she whispered, “We should probably go back soon. Jayce might start looking for us. Have you gone back to normal?”

Viktor nodded; his eyes have now stopped glowing red, returning to their usual vibrant honey hue. Carefully, one after another, they emerged from the corridor back into the light of the room. Looking over the crowd, both Mel and Viktor found themselves being overcome by a pleasant feeling of security and confidence. Finally, they were not alone, they had found someone capable of understanding the most primal aspects of themselves.

Mel’s eyes found Jayce again, and as she took in his cheery demeanor, a thought crossed her mind. She turned to Viktor, who also seemed to be watching Jayce intently.

“Viktor?”

“Yes, counselor?”

“Have you ever… drunk from Jayce?”

A glimmer of mischief flashed on Viktor’s face, and he shook his head lightly, a barely audible chuckle ripping out of him.

“I assure you, I have not,” with that, his eyes cast over the crowd again, “I have tasted many people present here right now, though. One of my favorite things about being… what we are is the fact that their memories are completely under our control. Makes hunting a lot easier, don’t you find?”

Mel chuckled, following Viktor’s gaze.

“Indeed. I couldn’t get a handle on it for a while, but once I did the opportunities seemed endless. Makes me wonder how many… donors you and I ended up accidentally sharing.”

“Pardon my, entirely self-indulgent, question, but did you ever consider hunting me, counselor?”Viktor was openly smirking now, leaning on his cane in a relaxed stance. Mel shot him a playful glance.

“Can’t say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. And what about you?”

“It would be a crime to pass up someone as delicious as you. Although, I must confess, I found myself feeling too timid to actually try.”

Another wave of silence cascaded over them as they continued to people-watch. Both of them knew what the other was doing now; they were looking for their next meal. In the abundance of flavors floating around the room, settling on just one proved to be difficult. Their gazes landed on Jayce again, who was now conversing with a couple of distinguished-looking gentlemen at the opposite end of the room.

An epiphany struck both vampires at once.

“Mel?”

“Yes?”

“You know, we could celebrate our newfound connection by indulging in someone both of us seem to enjoy,” Viktor nodded in the general direction of the man, with Mel following his movement with her eyes. His proposition didn’t register at first. Viktor wanted the both of them to drink from Jayce… together? The more she thought about it, the more enticing the idea seemed. She could feel a familiar hunger rise from the pit of her stomach again.

“That seems like a wonderful idea, Viktor.”

As the night drew to a close and almost every guest has departed from the festivities, Mel and Viktor found Jayce slumped over in a chair in the far corner of the room. His shoulders were slumped in exhaustion, cheeks flushed from the heat and alcohol, eyes dimmed. The poor Golden Boy seemed to have been squeezed dry by all the mingling, his impeccable charm proving to be a finite resource. The man was so tired he didn’t hear two pairs of footsteps encircling his chair, only perking up when a small, soft palm planted on his broad shoulder.

“Has the Man of Progress had a long night?” Jayce nuzzled into Mel’s hand, her singing tone putting him in a trance. All Jayce wanted in that moment was to collapse into bed, wrapped in Mel’s long, slender arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his back as he drifted off.

“Looks like he might use a good night’s rest” a familiar, low voice snapped Jayce away from his comatose state as he looked up, eyes meeting Viktor’s as he looked down at him with a small, mocking smile on his lips. As he felt Viktor’s hand grasp his other shoulder, the lack of normalcy in the scene unfolded before him started to dawn on Jayce. When did his respective work partners get so close to each other? How long was this going on?

Too tired to engage with these questions, Jayce grunted and tore himself up from the seat, letting Mel’s and Viktor’s grips on his shoulders steady him. With the both of them so close, Jayce suddenly felt very hot. The deep neckline and slit of Mel’s dress, Viktor’s tie, now slightly loosened and his hair disheveled, all of it made every dirty scene he ever imagined of the two of them resurface in his mind. He frantically tried to shoo the visions away, afraid that his body would give him away. As he struggled, both of his companions started walking, leading him by the shoulders, steadying his swaying movements.

“Come on, Golden Boy,” Mel cooed, maneuvering the much larger man through the doorway, “Let’s get you nice and cozy.”

By the time the trio reached the doors of Jayce’s apartment, the chilly night air worked its magic enough to almost fully sober the man up. To his own surprise, he even managed to insert the key into the lock with relative ease.

“You don’t mind if we stay for a little bit, do you?” Viktor asked, already having let himself and Mel in. Not that Jayce minded, of course. His only concern was his rapidly warming body, his quickening pulse, his trousers, threatening to start tenting at any second. He watched as Mel plopped down onto his plush sofa, long flowy skirt falling away from her leg, the entire length of it being visible through the slit of her dress, stopping teasingly at the hipbone. The woman’s head dropped back onto the sofa pillow with a relieved exhale, the delicate curve of her neck now fully exposed, making Jayce’s mouth water.

Off at the other end of the sofa, Viktor also took his seat, resting his cane against the side of his couch. He ran his hand through his hair, now hopelessly and irreversibly messed up, and fully removed his tie, letting his collarbones peak out from the loose collar of his shirt. Jayce felt something inside him twist and turn as he looked at the smaller man, taking in his carelessly plastered out form on his couch. His eyes followed the movement of Viktor’s digits against the fabric of the cushion, relishing in the way the soft material swallowed up the tips of his lab partner’s fingers. Mel and Viktor were supple steaks dangling in front of the snout of a starved lion, and the lion, despite being as desperate as ever, had no idea what to do.

Viktor decided to help the poor man out and patted the empty space on the couch cushion between him and Mel.

“Go on,” his voice came out in a low purr, “You must be tired.”

Jayce immediately obeyed, fitting in carefully between the two figures. The sofa was a tinge too small for the three of them, so both Mel’s and Viktor’s thighs ended up pressed firmly against Jayce’s. His palms were now slicked with sweat, small beads of moisture forming around his brow and under the collar of his shirt. Jayce’s distress only increased as he felt Mel trace a bulging vein on the side of his neck with the tip of her perfectly manicured nail.

“You seem tense, Jayce,” the man squirmed as Mel’s warm breath brushed against his neck, her finger gently tracing his jaw now. The heat radiating off the woman was intoxicating, the sweet scent of her perfume enveloped every neuron. Without thinking, Jayce stole a glance at Mel’s cleavage, ever so slightly visible through the cut of her dress, and the sight sent him running even more hot. Before he could muster up an answer, Jayce felt Viktor’s hand on his muscular thigh; the man was watching his face intently, rubbing small circles into the fabric of his white trousers as he did. A small mewl slipped out of Jayce, and he clamped a palm over his mouth in embarrassment.

“Ow, poor baby,” Mel whispered against his ear, her hand now loosening his tie. At that point, Jayce seldom understood what was happening, and, quite frankly, he didn’t care. Everything he ever wanted was happening to him now, and he would be damned to do anything to make this fantastical night stop.

“Who would’ve thought that such a big, strong man would come undone under some simple touches?” Viktor mocked, suddenly nipping at Jayce’s earlobe as his hand traveled from his thigh to his crotch, his touches feather-light. This coaxed another whimper out of Jayce, his back arching slightly as he tried to generate more friction between himself and Viktor’s palm, earning a snicker out of both Viktor and Mel.

“Look at him,” Mel’s fingers were working away at the top buttons of Jayce’s shirt, “Squirming already. What a desperate boy,” with his neck now sufficiently exposed, Mel pressed her hot, wet tongue flat against the salty surface of his skin, licking and kissing up to just underneath the man’s jawline. Jayce’s eyes fluttered half-shut as every kiss forced more sighs and moans out of the man, facilitated by Viktor’s continuing palming of his tenting trousers. Shivers ran up and down Jayce’s spine, goosebumps erupted across his skin as he drunk up the ecstasy.

Then, suddenly, a piercing pain seared through the side of the man’s neck. Without knowing what was causing it, Jayce tried to rip away, but unnaturally strong hands held him in place, gripping his jaw, keeping him still as something attached to his skin. Fighting the pain, Jayce cast his eyes down to the source of the pain. To his astonishment, he saw Mel, her mouth latched onto the vein of his neck, sucking at his skin. As Jayce registered a thin trickle of crimson streaming down his neck out of the seal between Mel’s lips and his skin, he realized that this was more than a love bite. She was drinking from him, drinking his blood. Could she be one of those creatures from the urban legends of Piltover, one of the monsters who hunted down lone travelers in the night and sucked them dry of their blood? As these thoughts rushed through Jayce’s mind, he glanced over to Viktor. He was still tentatively watching his face, seemingly observing every shift in his expression, and to his horror Jayce noticed a glint of scarlet red in his lab partner’s eyes. Whatever Mel was, Jayce realized, battling his rapidly clouding consciousness, Viktor was the same. They trapped him, and now he was their prey for the taking. As a last-ditch attempt to break free, Jayce jerked his entire body, the action yielding no results. Viktor’s thumb met Jayce’s cheek, wiping away a bead of tears which had fallen from Jayce’s bloodshot eye.

“Shh,” he cooed, pressing his body further into Jayce’s side, increasing the pressure of his hand on Jayce’s crotch slightly, earning a hoarse moan from the man as pain and pleasure started to morph into one, “We won’t hurt you. You are just so irresistible, we can’t help but drink from you.”

Mel had pulled away from Jayce’s neck now, blood smeared in the corner of her mouth, a thin stream dripping down her chin. Viktor leaned over Jayce, dragging his thumb down from the woman’s lower lip to her chin before licking his thumb clean. Jayce watched him intently, every dart of the man’s wet, glistening tongue causing his cock to twitch. Upon a closer look at Mel, Viktor realized that she hadn’t swallowed the last gulp of blood, holding it in her mouth instead. No words had to be exchanged; Viktor leaned over Jayce further, cupping both sides of Mel’s face in his palms, making sure to be in Jayce’s direct view. The man’s breath hitched as he watched his lab partner bring Mel’s mouth to his, their lips clashing as Viktor drank Jayce’s blood from Mel’s mouth. The two let out small moans and whimpers, the pleasure from the intake of blood mixing with the pleasure of their clashing tongues as they explored each other. Some blood dribbled down the side of Mel’s mouth again, and Viktor took it upon himself to lick down from the corner of the counselor’s mouth, down her chin and along the length of her neck, catching every drop as she mewled in pleasure. Viktor lingered at the side of Mel’s neck, kissing and sucking at one specific spot at which her gasps and moans got louder, one of her hands got entangled in his long, brunette locks. Both were excited to finally touch one another, releasing the frustration bottled up after years of casting each other longing looks in the corridors of the Academy.

Jayce was fully hard now, erection leaking and painful against the constraints of his trousers. More than anything he wanted to rip his trousers and underwear off and stroke himself to the sight of his lab partner and his girlfriend making out, bloody and desperate. But whether it was due to the blood loss or some paranormal trance the two put him under, the man could barely move, only relegated to helplessly watch. A short whine slipped out of him as he bucked into the air lightly, trying to relieve the dull ache forming at his groin. The reaction earned a few short laughs from the two.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Jayce,” Mel mocked, cupping Jayce’s cheek in her palm, “Do you feel left out?”

The woman’s hand traveled down to his crotch, feeling its hardness beneath her fingers. Jayce yelped underneath her touch, feverishly trying to grind against her.

“I think he is quite eager now,” Viktor chimed in, hooking a finger under the buckle of Jayce’s belt, “Do you think he has been good enough to be rewarded?” he raised an eyebrow at Mel. The woman put on an overly exaggerated expression of contemplation. Jayce felt like he was going mad, his mind was melting from the feathery touches, blood loss and verbal humiliation. The man was seconds away from exploding.

“I don’t know, Viktor,” Mel muttered, cocking her head as she looked deeply into Jayce’s tear-stained eyes, “Why don’t we get his trousers off and see?”

With that, the woman reached over and grasped the sides of the man’s thick neck with her fingers, squeezing lightly, cutting off just enough air to make his head spin even more. Jayce’s vision blurred as he felt Viktor expertly undo his belt and buttons, slipping his trousers off with ease as Mel’s hand stayed on his neck, her crimson eyes taking in his spaced-out expression. Jayce let out a moan of relief as Viktor, after discarding his trousers onto the floor, pulled off his boxers in a swift motion, releasing the man’s painful erection.

His thick, pulsating member sprung up into the cold air of the room, the head already red and swollen, leaking clear streaks of precum. Both Mel and Viktor took a moment to admire the way Jayce was splayed out in front of them, barely able to move, with beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and eyes rolling into the back of his head as he mindlessly bucked into the air. He was more than they had ever imagined.

“Please…” he finally managed to mutter, his voice strained and laced with desire. Viktor cocked his head and grabbed Jayce’s jaw, taking his head and neck out of Mel’s grasp so that Jayce’s eyes met his now.

“Please, what? You are a big boy, use your words,” the scientist teased. Jayce squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment, then cracked them open again.

“Please… touch me.”

That earned a satisfied huff out of Viktor as his palm came down and wrapped around the man’s shaft, earning a borderline animalistic grunt out of him. As Viktor slowly moved his hand up and down, pumping Jayce’s cock painfully slowly, occasionally swiping his thumb over the slit, Mel sat back, leaning back on the arm of the sofa. As Jayce’s eyes found her, she spread her legs, slowly grazing the soft flesh of her thigh with her fingernail all the way up, until her finger disappeared under the fabric of her dress. With her other hand, she pulled the straps of the dress down over her shoulders, exposing the bare flesh of her breasts to the air. Both of her nipples were adorned with gold jewelry and hardened in the cold air. Both men were watching her now, struggling to focus between the hand which was gently pinching and rolling one of her nipples between its fingers, and the other, which has hooked a finger under the strap of her panties and was pulling them down slowly. Viktor continued lazily pumping Jayce’s cock, feeling his own erection stir as Mel finally pulled her black lacy panties off, her heat still being covered by the bottom half of her dress. Viktor stretched out his hand, and she dropped the bunched-up fabric into his palm, which he carefully unfolded and draped over Jayce’s shaft, continuing to pump his cock with Mel’s panties now wrapped around it, the slick left behind by her core mixing with his precum. Jayce let out a high-pitched moan as Mel shoved two of her fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit. She then retracted them, and repositioned herself on the sofa, pulling the fabric of her dress away to reveal her sopping pussy. Viktor couldn’t help bust hastily undo his own trousers with one hand and grasp his member in his hand at the sight of Mel tracing her entrance with her fingers, wet from Jayce’s spit, as she circled her clit in small, gentle circles, letting out soft mewls, her gaze traveling between the two men as they watched her hungrily.

“You want to taste me first, pretty boy?” she breathed, her eyes set on Viktor. The man did not hesitate, releasing Jayce’s member and carefully kneeling on the floor in front of Mel, bringing his face close to her entrance.

She let out a yelp as the scientist’s tongue dipped in between her folds, sliding up and down her entrance, eventually circling the clit. Mel’s moans and the sounds of lapping and slurping filled the room, Jayce feeling like he is going to cum from the sight alone. Mel’s eyes rolled back, and her head fell onto the sofa cushion, fingers still playing with one nipple and Viktor reached up and found the other, tugging at the jewelry lightly as he devoured her pussy with hunger comparable to his bloodlust. His eyes never left Jayce’s, and as Mel’s breathing got faster and she started squirming under this grasp, Viktor pulled away, pulling himself up Jayce’s body until he was straddling him and their mouths collided, tongues dancing against one another as they savored Mel’s taste. Viktor’s hands ran through Jayce’s perfectly styled hair, messing it up, and their teeth clashed against each other animalistically. Eventually, Viktor pulled away from him and nodded in the direction of Mel, who continued playing with herself while watching them.

“Your turn now,” he muttered breathlessly, and just like that Jayce regained his ability to move. He carefully moved Viktor off him, being careful not to hurt his leg, and sat him back onto the sofa. He then got on his hands and knees in front of Mel and, casting all patience aside, buried his face between her legs, tongue dancing wildly over her clit as her mewls transitioned to loud moans. Copying Viktor, he reached up and played with Mel’s nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, coaxing even louder sounds out of her. The sight of her face, contorted in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, drove him to half madness and as continued feverishly lapping at her cunt.

Meanwhile, Viktor moved behind Jayce, wetting his fingers in his mouth before lightly grazing his asshole, earning a surprised gasp from the man. Viktor’s other hand snaked between his legs and grasped his cock again, pumping faster as he dipped one of his fingers into him just to the knuckle. Jayce had to stop to let out a moan for a second, and Viktor’s and came down sharply on the cheek of his ass.

“Did I say you could stop?” he hissed, “Your job is to make Counselor Medarda feel good.”

Jayce let out an incoherent drabble and returned to his work, circling Mel’s clit as her hands became entangled in his hair, pushing his head further into her core. Viktor resumed as well, dipping a finger fully into Jayce now as his other hand worked his shaft at a merciless pace. Jayce tried his best to not break rhythm, with each stifled moan sending a vibration through her which made her squirm in pleasure.

Gradually, Viktor added more fingers, abusing Jayce’s tight hole further as he pumped in and out of him at the same speed as his other hand worked his cock. Jayce was a dribbling mess now, nose pressed onto Mel’s clit, tongue darting around wildly as he chased his own high. Suddenly, another sharp jolt of pain spread through Jayce, this time originating at his waist. He glanced backwards and saw Viktor’s mouth latching onto the skin on the back of his waist, sharp teeth piercing the skin as he drank from him again. A warm fog started filling Jayce’s head again, the pain from the bite and pleasure of what Viktor’s hands were doing to him mixing into new and unfamiliar sensations. As Mel writhed and panted, Jayce slipped a thick finger into her opening, taking in the feeling of her walls clenching around him as he continued to glide his tongue over her clit.

Behind him, Viktor pulled away from his skin, mouth smeared with blood. He let a mouthful of blood dribble out of his mouth onto his own throbbing member, smearing it until it was completely covered. He then lined himself up with Jayce’s entrance, pushing into him slowly as the man writhed underneath him. Carefully, Viktor pushed every inch of him in, staying still for a few moments before starting to slowly oscillate backwards and forwards.

“Such a good boy, so tight for me,” he gasped out as the base of his cock hit Jayce’s skin again, “Now, I am going to fuck you, and you are not allowed to cum until Counselor Medarda does, do you understand?”

As Jayce nodded and whined in agreement, Viktor picked up the pace, hips snapping mercilessly against Jayce’s ass as his moans reverberated from the walls of the room. Viktor continued moving at a punishing pace, landing occasional smacks onto the flesh of Jayce’s ass, reveling in the way scarlet handprints formed on his skin. With every thrust Jayce got louder, more distracted from Mel’s pussy, forcing Viktor to grab a fistful of the man’s hair and press him back down, planting the flat of Jayce’s tongue against the counselor’s red and swollen clit.

“Come on, make her cum, Jayce. I want to see her cum in your mouth,” Viktor muttered in Jayce’s ear, picking up the pace of his own movements to a superhuman speed. Desperate to please, Jayce inserted another finger into Mel, pumping and licking as fast as he could, making her squeeze her thighs tightly around his head.

“Fuck, yes, just like that. Such a good boy, so eager to make me cum, huh?” she gasped, grinding against Jayce’s face. The knot in the pit of her stomach got impossibly tight, and in a few seconds, it burst, spreading a wave of ecstasy and heat through her body as she shook and spasmed, thighs still clamped around Jayce’s head as she rode out her high on his tongue. It was at that moment that Jayce came undone, thighs shaking streaks of hot cum shout out of him and landed on the plush fabric of the couch.

As Mel caught her breath and released Jayce from her grasp, Viktor continued pounding away at him, chasing his own high. Overstimulated, Jayce tried to pull away, but was held firmly in place, only being able to press his face harder into the cushion as Viktor fucked him mercilessly.

“Take it, good boy, take it. I’m so close, you feel so good, fuck,” Viktor drabbled incoherently as he reached his peak, cumming deep inside Jayce, filling him to the brim with his warmth. Jayce whined as Viktor slowly pulled out, watching his cum dribble out of Jayce’s hole and slide down his thigh.

After a few moments of everyone catching their breath, Mel lifted off the couch, gesturing for the men to follow her. They made it into Jayce’s bedroom, where they climbed into his bed and nuzzled up to one another, Jayce in the middle as Mel and Viktor encased him from both sides, peppering small kisses onto his temples and neck. As he, now properly fucked out and tired, started to drift off to sleep, he could make out Mel’s and Viktor’s voices. They sounded muffled, distant, as if they were miles away.

“So, are we going to make him forget?” he heard Mel ask.

“No,” he muttered, half asleep, nuzzling further into Viktor’s neck, “Don’t. I want to remember this night. I want to remember everything.”

The two chuckled, and as all of them drifted off to sleep, Jayce couldn’t help but smile at the thought that the reality he found himself in was much better than any fantasy he had every harbored.

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #mel medarda #jaymelvik #vampire #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #smut

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