#and I don’t hate sports I’m just not usually a huge fan of going to sporting events

[sophisticatedswifts]

Apparently I do like sporting events now. Disregard everything I’ve said in the past.

[moxfirefly]

I love your writing so much and how you write the turtle just ugh ♥️ So I’ve been in my very angsty mood lately so I’m thinking of Raphael x F!reader? If you don’t mind?

The reader is a anti-hero type of character doesn’t feel like a good influence on Raph who is more of the hero type. Especially since his family are against the relationship because of the reader’s morals so they have her second guessing herself. Raphael disagrees with his family and is a stubborn mofo as usual. Lmao

"Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?"

"I'm going to kiss you. Okay? Just...just let me kiss you."

Listen I’m having a heart attack at having you in my inbox because I’m a HUGE HUGE fan of yours and like yeah, no pressure, I’m fine, I’m alright,

Rated Mature (suggestive themes)

There were many instances where you could feel Leo burning a hole through the back of your head, the grimace he sported the second he could spot you out on the open was enough to make your eyes roll. You knew having him be anything but pissy wasn’t going to be an option when Raph had told you about him.

The tallest one wasn’t any different, he was subtle sure but you’ve changed enough cellphones in 3 months just paranoid over being tapped. He observed, calculated, probably thought up of ways of his own to sabotage.

The youngest seemed stuck between feeling joy for his older brother but the worry was there, the second guessing resonated in his blue eyes whenever you rode up in your motorcycle looking a little worse for wear. What had you been doing the week you’d gone radio silent? Why could he smell blood on you? Why were your knuckles so bruised?

It was natural for Raphael’s family to want to shield him, Splinter especially, it was normal that you came from the proverbial wrong side of the tracks.

But couldn’t they see?

You cared for him, deeply. Wanted him, desired him, he made the bullshit somehow fade away.

But those cold gazes, the ironic judgment they held the second Raph ran off towards you, you could picture it.

So when Raph ran, so did you.

Somehow keeping a step away to his forward steps.

Because now whenever he reached out you felt a twinge of unworthiness at his touch.

Because maybe you were as bad as they thought you were, maybe you were a bad influence, something sent to break him apart and condemn.

You wrist hurt from holding onto the throttle, the ride back into the city an all too familiar one. You could feel your phone vibrate in the inside pocket of your jacket and while could guess, you tried to ignore it.

Maybe it due time to quietly slip away, Raph was good, he was a genuinely good man who stood for what he did. Why corrupted him (were you?) why give this a death sentence? (Was it?) why hurt yourself more? (Will it hurt more when you leave?)

You pulled into the subterranean garage of the apartment building you’d taken up residence in. You walked the bike towards the spot and sighed. Your hands were shaking, vibrating from the buzzing of the night ride.

“Ya planning on just never answering?” It came from the shadows, the deep baritone you often heard in your brain at all hours of the day.

Raph stepped out of the dark corner of the garage with a tension in his shoulders that must’ve ached. Taking off your helmet and setting it on the bike, you watched from your tousled locks at a man you found peace in.

Leaving peace behind wouldn’t be easy.

“It was a busy night, came back into the city just now.” You kept your gaze adverted, anywhere where it wouldn’t hurt to see worries green eyes staring back.

“It’s been a week, kid…what’s going on?” What did I do?

Was all you could hear deep within the swallowing of his throat.

“Nothing, had a job, did the job, took longer.” You hated how dry you sounded, sandpaper words that could damage those scales of his.

When Raph took a step to greet you, touch you, you took a small one back.

When you chanced a look at him, well it was easier to eat glass than watch that look.

“Raph—“

“Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?” He was close now, a large mitt reaching for your chin, gently oh so painfully gently caressing the outline of your jaw. You looked up, eyes shaky from finding any way to let him go, to push him away.

“You know why—“

He didn’t let you finish again.

“I don’t fucking care, this is what I want, you, I want you.” He cupped your cheek, small and vulnerable against his large palm.

You drowned in the possibility of leaving him, so when you remained silent, didn’t say anything, Raph leaned down.

“I’m going to kiss you. Okay? Just…Just let me kiss you.” The need in his voice, the want so visceral it made you feel it all the same.

When Raph’s lips met yours, for those little moments you allowed yourself the luxury of greed.

[shytastemakerthing]

hey can i please request a twisted wonderland march romantic and platonic😊

I’m a 4’11 Hispanic-black female with curly dark brown hair and brown eyes with tan skin. I’m socially awkward around new people but one I’m comfortable I’m a sarcastic blunt women who takes no crap from anyone . I don’t play sports but I do work out by running since I am a big foodie. You can find me reading fanfic or writing fanfic while listening to music especially spanish music on cleaning days.

I hate math but love American history and i love dancing especially to Spanish music and can be found speaking in Spanish with excited or angry and love anime. I have a small group of friends but we are all close

i am a libra and my birthday is October 8 i am very big on my hispanic culture. i am also not a fan of tomatoes

I am also a huge animal lover and currently own two pit-bulls that i love and train in spanish. I also love cooking mainly hispanic dishes.

Hello and thank you so much for your request! I absolutely love Pit-bulls. One of my lovely puppies is part pit and she is just the sweetest thing ever! I will admit, I love listening to Spanish music, especially when I am doing schoolwork.

For the time being, I will do one of the match-ups, starting with the romantic one and will come back to the other as soon as I am completely caught up with my requests! I hope that you enjoy!

Tw: None

I match you with............

Deuce Spade

First things first, this man is so in love with you, it isn't even funny. He is smitten. it was like love at first sight for him and he can't get enough of you.... and yes, he asked his mother for advice because he certainly did not want to mess anything up, the boy is just so nervous.

Deuce loves animals, that much is known. We have seen how this man is with little chicks, we love a man with an adorable soft side, and he will certainly let it show.

This also means that he will invite you to Heartslabyul. They have plenty of animals there.

Want to help him tend to the little hedgehogs? They're such adorable little creatures, and how can you deny them when they curl into your lap so cutely and make those little sounds of theirs?

The flamingos are hit or miss, but usually pretty good.

As a member of the Track and Field team, he will certainly offer to go running with you. It is a good exercise and you get a running partner while he gets practice.

Speaking of his club, Deuce would certainly love it if you would come and see his meets. Knowing that there is someone in the stands cheering him on urges him to perform at his absolute best. Even if he doesn't win, he certainly tried his best and you were able to see that, that's what matters to him.

Please speak to this man in Spanish, he will absolutely melt. Does he know what you're saying? No. Is he absolutely smitten? Absolutely.

You have also caught this man at least trying to learn certain words and phrases in Spanish. While hard for him and frustrating, he is putting that effort in and is taking the time to be able to learn what he can of your culture..... the man is husband material through and through.

Overall, Deuce is a man who strives to be his absolute best to ensure your happiness. If anything has you feeling down, he will certainly seek to correct that, just to see you smiling. At the end of the day, the man has more love for you than what he knows what to do with.

Thank you for your request!!

[elisysd]

38. What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around?

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Falling - Harry Styles

Ethan didn’t usually like press conferences. He hated journalists most of the time. They always asked him the same questions over and over, hoping for a different answer each time. They were, most of the time, about his dad and their relationship and he hated that. But what he hated even more were press conferences with Martin.

“Lucy Van Hoecker for Sports 1, a question for Ethan. Rumors are that you are not going to renew your contract with Maserati for next year. Is there some truth in it?”

“Absolutely not. My contract with them does end at the end of the year but if I’m frank with you, the discussions about a renewal have not started yet. But I want to stay with the team and we all believe that I did a great job for the first part of the season with maximizing the points for the team. They know my love for the brand and how dedicated I am.”

“Oliver Stone, for Sky Sport, I have a question for Martin. We saw Ferrari make a big jump with the new package and are now closer to securing the P2 with a nice gap from Audi before the summer break. What are the goals for the second part of the season?”

“To fight in the front of course. We saw that we are starting to be able to fight with Lamborghini, we still are lacking race pace and the team works daily to improve on all aspects so we are able to have a weekend that we put together, from the free practices to the quali and the race. We made a huge step forward but now we need to improve on our consistency.

“Rose Almenovar for ESPN, another question for Martin. We all saw the rivalry on tracks between Ethan and yourself that led to probably the most outstanding battles on track for this first part of the season. Where is it coming from? Ethan can also answer.”

“I mean… Ethan is a great driver, it’s always amazing to be able to fight with someone like this. We are both hot headed on track so it has resulted in a few incidents but at the end of the day, that’s why we race. To be the best and for that you need to improve. And what is better than someone that is challenging you on all levels to do that? Even if sometimes I think that his driving style is not fit for Formula 1 and he might have a nice place in rallye. So if his contract is not renewed, maybe it’s a path that he can explore!” Martin added in a laugh, making Ethan clenched his jaw.

“At least, I have a driving style. It’s no blend like some drivers out there. It’s how I learned it.”

“Yeah, but is it really your driving style or did you just copy your dad?”

Feeling that it would implode soon, the journalists started to question Ludwig that was there as well and when it was finally all over, Ethan almost jumped out of the couch and ran to the exit. He could hear, someone walking fast behind him and a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, mate. I wanted it to be a joke but it didn’t come out as I wanted to.” said Martin.

“What? The rallye part or my dad? You’re so obsessed with him, if you are a fan just tell me I can ask him to sign you an autograph.” Ethan replied.

He was nervous. But not the good kind and Martin was not helping.

“Admit it, though… You are in F1 mostly because of your dad. It made it easier, you can’t blame me or any of the other drivers who actually worked their asses off to get there, to make fun of you. It’s not mean. You are just freaking privileged, admit it.”

“Would you tell that about Romy?” Ethan asked, stopping dead in his tracks and facing Martin.

“Romy is not the same…”

“No, because you are not jealous of her relationship with Julia. On the other hand, you hate that I have Julia and you don’t but guess what? She doesn’t care about you. She doesn’t care about your pathetic flirting attempts. She doesn’t care about you when she is in my bed moaning my name. She doesn’t think of you. Not even for a second.”

“Maybe I am jealous. Maybe I do think I would treat her better than you can. Because, you talk about her and act around her like she belongs to you. Like she was a prize that you won and let me tell you something, keep going and you’ll lose her. Because she might not be my girlfriend but I think I know her enough to say that she is not a bird that will be happy in the cage you are trapping her in. She is made to fly. But you are not ready to help her do that. You’ll screw up. In the same way you always screw up something on track. And I’ll be there to repair your mistakes.”

“I’ll show you who will screw up on Sunday. And that won’t be me I can assure you.”

“Is that a threat, Verstappen?”

“No. It’s a promise. I hope for your sake that you won’t start next to me.”

When Julia finally landed in Montreal, she was happy. Happy to finally see Ethan and to take him in her arms, happy to feel his lips on hers, happy to just be with him. She was looking forward to that. She was not happy to feel the cold air on her face. It was not cold, maybe she was exaggerating but it was colder than Monaco for sure. She shivered a little bit and couldn’t wait to go to her hotel to sleep and be ready for the race that was going to happen tomorrow. She wasn’t able to watch quali or the free practices, busy to sort everything out before she had to leave.

As soon as she arrived in her room, exhausted, she decided to catch up on what she had missed. She quickly looked over the qualifying results, and was so happy for Ethan’s P6. She sent him a quick text to tell him that she was very busy and only managed to see the results and that she hoped for a nice race tomorrow. She believed in him and even if she wouldn’t be able to watch the race tomorrow, she would think of him a lot and was sending him with all her strength. She felt bad to lie to him, she wanted nothing more but to tell him she was there, not far away from him but she hoped the surprise effect would work. She smiled imagining his face, not expecting her. She had everything ready, she would hide in the Ferrari’s garage and when the race would be over she would come out, wearing a Maserati’s shirt with his number 32 embroidered on her back. She was so excited.

It was late in the city, the sign that she needed to sleep. But before, she wanted to hear his voice one last time. She set up the qualifying interview and watched Ethan’s determined face appear.

“You’ll start behind Martin’s Ferrari tomorrow. What can we expect?”

“Well, it will be something to watch for sure, so I would be you, I would keep an eye on that first corner. I’m very focused on tomorrow and I really want to end the first part of the season on a high note.”

“So, any ideas on the strategy tomorrow?”

“Well, you will have to wait and see!” he ended the interview with a smile.

She didn’t really like what she could see in his eyes and she hoped with everything she had that he wouldn’t try anything stupid.

Julia was biting her nails inside the garage, her eyes glued to the screen and her headphones comfortably resting on her ears. Ethan’s post qualifying interview worried her. She had never seen him so ready to fight. She didn’t know if it was because Martin was P5, him P6 and considering their rivalry he just wanted to show him who was the best, or maybe he just wanted to end the first part of the season of the high but still, she was stressed out.

The formation lap went on without any incidents and now they only have to wait for the start. Julia found a chair in the back and dragged it in a corner to be away and hidden from the cameras. She didn’t want to be seen and she didn’t want to admit that she could feel her legs shaking. There was utter silence in the garage until the lights went out. Kyle took off very well, quickly followed by Romy that was going to attack at the first corner. She was so focused on them that she didn’t notice the red car going off the track, turning on itself, upside down until it flipped off of the barrier. The focused silence turned into a scary one as soon as the whole team registered what just happened. They were all focused on the start and what was in front that they didn’t see what was happening straight away.

“Martin? Martin? Do you hear me?” it was his race engineer that she was hearing.

On the screen they showed a replay of the start from Martin’s point of view. Everyone could see a wheel making a slight contact with his rear, making him slide off the track. First, two spins before by an unknown matter, the car kept spinning around but this time upside down. Normally, the gravel should have slowed him down but it hadn’t been the case, making Julia think that the security didn’t really check the track before, to finally ended up flipping over the barrier, near the grand stand. Julia could see the medics and firemen rushing to his side as flames could be seen coming off the engine. Panic started to arise in Julia as they were struggling to approach the car. The race was obviously suspended and she didn’t see straight away Elijah coming back, visibly shaken and running to her dad’s side. Probably to see if he had some news. On the broadcast they were still showing multiple points of view from the crash until it came to Ethan. She didn’t need the sound to understand what happened out there. The slight but very determined swerve to the left, wasn’t leaving much to imagination. It had been deliberate to the point that when Julia finally processed the information she had to throw up in the first bin she found.

She couldn’t believe it. How could he have been this stupid? Even more than that. She was furious but it would be a concern for later. She managed to stand up searching for any information. Her dad was standing with Elijah. They both looked pale and Julia ran to them.

“Any news?” she asked.

“The firemen managed to stop the fire, that’s a good thing. He is alive, so that’s a relief. The only concern we have is that they can’t get him out of there, the car embedded itself between the two sets of barriers. They would need to touch the car to get him out of there but they can’t touch anything before the ambulance arrived. So now, we have to wait.” her dad explained, in a calm voice despite the evident worry in his eyes.

“Do you know what happened?” the look he gave her was all she needed to have the confirmation that he had the same conclusion as her.

“I’m sorry Julia, but I can’t let that move from Ethan slide. It was not a race incident, he did it on purpose.”

“I know and I agree. I.. I can’t believe he would do something like that…”

On the screens of the race control she could finally see the medics doing their job and it’s a little relieved that she saw a shaking Martin, barely standing on his legs coming out of the car under the applause of the fans. Two medics were standing next to him, supporting him and almost dragging him to the car.

“I wish I could go to him…” sighed Charles.

“I’ll go. I’ll keep you posted. I don’t want to stay here anyway and I want to be useful. The ambulance will come here, right?” seeing her dad nodding, she added “I’ll go wait for them, then. I’ll see you later.”

In Maserati’s garage, Ethan never looked so pale. No one was looking at him, not even Chloe. He had tried to talk to his team principal but the look he gave him quickly discouraged him to do so. He had never intended for the crash to be that violent. He just wanted to send Martin in the techpro. He never thought that it would end like that. He should have known better, he should know that the slightest touch in the wrong place could cause a massive crash.  He wanted to hide. He wanted to crawl somewhere and never come back. He felt like there was an invisible hand squeezing his throat but he couldn’t get out of the garage, the cameras would find him. Immediately he imagined the reactions in the media and it hit him like a truck at full speed. He might just have given the final blow to his career. No one would trust him on the track anymore. And only because he had been petty and jealous of a guy. He felt tears in his eyes and immediately put back his helmet and the visor down.

“Ethan. Come here for a minute."He recognised his team principal’s voice and without a word, he followed him. “We are summoned to the FIA office, right now. They want to hear your version of the incident before deciding on what they will do.”

He didn’t say a word and walked in the paddock to the FIA control center as fast as he could.

“We watched the replays and we want to understand what happened. From what we can see there was no need for you to swerve like that, you had no one besides you. So, a simple question, was it intentional?”

“Yes.” he didn’t want to lie, he wanted to own up to his mistake and hope for the best. “Martin and I, we don't see eye to eye, and I know it’s no excuses, really. I just wanted to send him off the track, that’s all, I didn’t want it to be like that. Is he okay?”

“He is on his way to the hospital, that’s all we will be saying. So it was your choice only to do that, right? No team orders?”

“No, if you want a culprit, that’s me.”

“In that case… We are giving you eleven penalty points. Meaning as from now on, you’ll only have one point left on your super license.”

Ethan gulped. There was no room for mistakes now, even the slightest or it would be a one-race ban. On one hand it wasn’t the end of the world, it could have been worse. But knowing that he could have prevented it, that the sanction and the reason would always hang over his head… that made him feel bad. He felt like shit.

“I understand,” he said in a low voice.

When he left the office, his team principal was still waiting for him.

“The race will resume in fifteen minutes. You understand that I don’t want you to go back there. Not after today. Go home, Ethan. Focus on yourself, get yourself together for the sake of the team but for you most importantly. Because what you did today, that’s something I don’t want to see. I’m ashamed of you. You don’t deserve the race suit you are wearing. You are not worthy of it. I don’t want you near the media, I want you to lay low. I want everybody to forget your existence.”

Ethan never felt so alone in his entire life. He quickly came back to his driver’s room, got rid of his suit for more casual clothes and quickly headed out. He knew what he had to do and that was starting with going to see Charles to apologize. He hoped he would hear him out. He still had time but had to be quick, nonetheless. He spotted the Ferrari’s team principal talking to his mechanics near the mountains of debris of corrugated iron. When Charles saw him, he had a dark look on his face. He quickly approached him, taking him by the arms, almost dragging him to the back.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Charles said in a cold voice.

“Charles, please..”

“It’s Mister Leclerc, from now on.”

“I… I didn’t mean for any of it to happen… I just… I.. I have no excuses. I’m wrong on so many levels. Is he okay?”

“In the hospital for some check ups. That’s all you need to know. Now excuse me, I have to inspect the damage you caused and try to figure out a way to not break the budget cap. I might ask Maserati to pay for them, after all. Or maybe you should. A way to own up to your mistakes, to grow up. I thought your dad was stupid and dangerous when he first started and god knows that some crashes he caused could have ended up badly but congrats Ethan, you might have found a way to surpass him.”

Ethan wasn’t expecting a warm welcome from Charles, of course not, but a part of him thought he would at least ask how he was doing, that he would care. If Ethan might have needed a wake up call, it might have been the one. He felt like his world was completely shattering around him, as if he was a human bomb and had willingly pressed the detonator button. If he was losing everything, he only had himself to blame. His mind drifted off to Julia, on the other side of the world. What was he going to say to her? Would she even listen? He shook his head, that would be a cross to bridge later, right now, he had something very important to do.

After asking some very nice medics, he was able to know where Martin had been transported to. And after a little flirtation with the woman in her fifties at the desk, he managed to get his room number. Arriving at the right floor, he gulped. What was he going to say? I’m sorry for almost killing you, it was not on purpose, I just wanted you to DNF? That sounded so stupid and even worse than a simple I’m sorry. For a minute he wondered if it was a good idea. If Martin even wanted to see him. As he approached the room, his hands slightly sweating, he could hear laughs in the room. He wasn’t alone. In a way it was reassuring, if he wanted to punch Ethan at least someone would be there to stop him.

He took a deep breath and knocked before hearing a ‘come in’. He slowly opened the door and almost shut it right away when he saw Julia in there. The laughter died down as soon as they saw Ethan. Martin looked at him with a surprised face, clearly not expecting him and Julia look was cold. Ethan’s eyes were glued on her and he swore that he had never seen her looking at him like that, even when she hated him. It was a mix between cold anger, disappointment and sadness.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her emotionless voice contrasted with the look on her face.

“I wanted to see Martin…”

“Why? To finish what you started? Trying to kill him on the tracks wasn’t enough?”

She was standing up now, and he could see the tears in her eyes. He didn’t know what to say. All he wanted was to try to make things right, for once. Not only to appease his mind but also for the people around him, for her.

“Julia, please… let me explain?”

“Explain what? That you deliberately made him crash? That you didn’t care about the amount of work the mechanics and the engineers are going to put into repairing the car. People that have families, that don’t travel in private jets or sleep in five star hotels, people that are dedicating their lives to the sport despite how hard it is. But of course, you don’t think about them. you don’t care. Because you only care about yourself, your little comfort. You don’t care about the people around you.”

“I just… I just wanted to say sorry to you Martin… I… I never wanted that to happen… I…” he stuttered, feeling powerless for the first time in his life.

“Leave Ethan. You don’t have anything to do here.” she said and as she was moving away he tried to grip her hands in a desperate attempt to feel her warmth, to feel like he had not massively fucked up, only to feel a warm sting on his right cheek. “I don’t recognise you. I don’t like the guy that was out there today. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you. I want you to leave me alone. And don’t bother coming with me to the wedding. I prefer to go alone than to be near you.”

It was the last straw. He clenched his jaw and nodded, his eyes looking at his surroundings but avoiding her. He closed his eyes, trying to get back his composure and without a second look, he left. He didn’t know how he made it unscathed to the hospital parking lot but when he finally was out, his knees buckled under him making him fall to the ground and he let his emotions out in the open. The frustration, the sadness, the anger against himself… everything. He could feel his body shaking as tears were flowing out of his eyes and running down his cheeks. He didn’t try to stop them, he couldn’t and didn’t want to. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, alone, he only knew that he was exhausted and that he needed to wake up from this nightmare.

In the hospital room, it was deadly silent, only interrupted by the heart monitor and its regular beeps. Julia was still looking at the door, her breathing heavy and her cheeks red. The lighter mood that Martin had tried to set up in a desperate attempt to make her smile was long gone.

“Julia…”

“Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.” she said abruptly.

“You were harsh with him. I’m not trying to excuse him, I really don’t. He fucked up and what he did was not okay. Not at all but… I think I know why he did it and I think it’s also my fault.”

“Nothing can justify what he has done, Martin. It could have been so much worse than that.”

“But it’s not. See, I’m alive and well. What I mean is, I did say a few not so nice things out of spite and because I knew he would react. I brought this on myself too. I know his dad is a really sensitive topic and still, I used that against him. I just didn’t know you were also a very sensitive one, maybe even more sensitive than his dad. I think it’s what made him snap. Don’t be too harsh on him, he is remorseful enough. I’ve never seen him like this, I think it says enough.”

Julia sighed, rubbing her eyes. She was exhausted and she could feel the headache pounding.

“You are idiots. Both of you. Not for the same reasons but still. You know how he is, you know how he reacts. You are always trying to pick on him, you knew that at some point it would end badly. I just… I can’t believe it. All of this for what? What good did it make? It’s a lose-lose situation.”

“I’m sorry, Julia. For everything. For the situation I put you in because I was jealous, for what happened with Ethan because I can see how it impacts you and the last thing I want is to see you sad, for the friendship we could have if I hadn’t been so stubborn and insistent with you… I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

“Not as sorry as I am. I’m sorry if I made you think that there could have been something between us.”

“And I’m sorry I’ve crossed so many lines and boundaries.”

“It ‘s all good…” she whispered as he took her hand in his to squeeze it lightly.

“I’ll always be there for you. As a friend. Nothing more. I learned my lesson.”

She smiled gently at him, nodding her head and squeezed his hand as well. It was late when she left the hospital. Martin would be discharged the next day and that was a relief. They only wanted to keep him for the night, just to make sure everything was alright. She was exhausted. Mentally exhausted. And when she saw her dad waiting for her, in front of her room, she ran to him and cried like she had never cried before. When she finally ran out of tears, she looked at her dad.

“Martin is okay.”

“He called me, I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve been through a lot today with…”

“He came. To the hospital. I’ve never seen him so distraught, so ashamed, so lost and his eyes dad… they looked empty. I want to be mad, I’m mad. I’m even more than that. I want to hate him for what he has done, for what he puts the team through but…”

“You love him.” he finished at her place.

“I do… more than anything.” it made her feel good to finally say it. “I just want to understand. I want to know what went through his mind. But at the same time, i’m not sure how we would recover from something like that.”

“You both need to talk. Would you ask me, I would tell you to not go near him even if I know that he wouldn’t hurt you. It’s just… I’ve never expected him to do something like that. It scares me, Ju’.”

“I told him horrible things dad, things that I didn’t mean. I didn’t even let him talk, I…”

“It’s okay. Breathe. You were mad, you let your emotions get the best of you. I did too. I saw him and I did some things that hurt him, as well.”

“I need to call him. I want to know that he is okay.”

Her dad nodded and kissed her on the forehead before leaving her, not without telling her that he was at the end of the corridor if she needed him.

Julia entered her room and sat down on her bed, her knees up against her chest. She took off her phone, finally noticing the hundreds of texts and calls that she had missed. She quickly read them until she was a few from Kat and Max, worried about the fact that they couldn’t reach Ethan, that he was not answering his phone. It was the same for Kyle and Ludwig, she even had a text from Chloe. The last one was from a couple of minutes ago. She felt a lump in her throat. Shaking, she tried calling him as well, only to end up straight on his voicemail.

“Ethan please, it’s me… I know that maybe you don’t want to hear from me, after what I said but… please, answer to someone. We are all freaking scared. I’m scared. I need to know you’re okay. Please.”

Author's note: Yikes... Ethan, what did you do? What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[rekikiri]

1. Rant to me about a book you absolutely hate!!!!!! (For the ask game)

ahhh I’m so glad you picked this one!! Thanks for the ask!

so I don’t have a lot of books I can think of that I hated but the first to come to mind that I hated (and finished) was She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen (warning that this got super long so I’m doing a see more for it)

let me preface this that it is my opinion and if you like it that is totally fine!! also spoiler warning

okay for starters, fake dating is something I enjoy quite a bit! I really love fake dating, but I’m usually not a huge fan if it is to make someone else jealous tho which is a big part of Scottie’s motivation, so already off to a bad start.

Scottie is the main character here. Her and irene are supposedly enemies, but the events that make them hate each other are just not comparable to me. The reason Scottie hated Irene was LITERALLY A MISCOMMUNICATION. It would’ve been so quick and easy to clear it up but instead she hated Irene and was so mean to her (explained later)

There’s an incident at the start of the series where there’s a small car accident between the two and Irene needs her car repaired. Irene’s mom insisted that she had to pay for it, and to do so she would’ve likely need to quit cheer to get a job to cover it. So in the meantime, they’re carpooling. Scottie and her girlfriend had broken up not long before the book starts so Scottie offers to pay Irene $1000 to fake date her to make her ex jealous (which is just insane, you are 17 years old, a relationship is not worth it if you are needing to spend money to fake date a pretty girl to make her jealous). They only even broke up because her girlfriend was moved to another school haha not even out of STATE just a little bit away.

Scottie talks about Irene being mean but she really isn’t?? Like Scottie is so much meaner to Irene and is super judgmental.

Here are some examples of things scottie did to Irene (using a book review to confirm my info for this because I read this like 2+ years ago and it just has stuck with me so might be some slight inaccuracies)

1. Tells irene she is “too stupid” and that’s why she didn’t get into an AP class

2. Purposefully makes Irene spill her coffee on herself while driving her to school (then does the stupid ‘name three songs’ thing about the Green Day shirt Irene was wearing)

3. Said its misogynistic that cheerleaders always cheered for the boys sports and told Irene that cheer wasn’t a real sport anyways (multiple times) and insists that she didn’t deserve the student athlete of the year award even tho she worked her ass off to deserve it (and damn if that ain’t some misogynistic bullshit if you ask me)

Here’s a quote I found in the reviews that is a big reason why I fucking hate scottie

"It's not my fault you're so fucking insecure about being a cheerleader or that no one, including your own mother, takes you seriously about it."

That’s just so fucked up, I’m sorry. I would never fucking date her if she said that shit to me

NOT TO MENTION

Wanna know what Irene did that was supposedly so awful?

Had Scottie’s car towed. And it wasn’t even malicious! She accidentally had Scottie’s car towed when she was trying to have someone else’s towed to prevent them from driving drunk after a party they were at. Like if I were Scottie id be pretty pissed but like ? Just make her pay the fucking fee to get it back. Don’t need to be a huge bitch about it. She would’ve known it was an accident too if she just TALKED TO HER, but no, decided Irene was her worst enemy ever

And we find out about what happened after Scottie kissed her ex at a party after her and irene are sorta getting together for real, and brings the car issue up when irene is upset with her for it. Like I’m sorry you’re only going to bring up the awful “oh you towed my car” thing when you just kissed your ex when you’re with her??? Nope not comparable whatsoever I’m sorry

AND when she asked Irene to fake date her, Irene wasn’t out!! She was out to her family but Scottie really put her in a shitty situation with her offer. She either had to get a job and quit cheer (which if I remember correctly was how she planned to get a college scholarship!!!) OR she could fake date this mean girl for money and out herself in the process. I hated that and that’s only the smallest of things

Small thing too is that apparently the book was set where I live?? Funny that it even mentions where they are from because I have not a single memory of any specific thing that would make me think it is set here haha

Anyways yeah if you made it this far, thank you for hearing my bitchy book thoughts. I cannot think of a single other book that I’ve read start to finish that I dislike enough to say this much about it (I’m very good at knowing if ill hate a book before I start it and I’m very easy to please as is)

[lewisvinga]

OK! I’m here to give you a report on the comment section of the Mercedes and RB teams after qualifying. It’s surprisingly not as bad as usual. I know the person who has been commenting about how toxic it is it’s probably gonna say something as well, but it was mostly people being against the team. Of course, there were people, bashing Lewis, but most of it was either positive or against Mercedes as a whole team.

RB is a complete war zone. People who used to say they love Daniel now “love“ Yuki and people are still being ablest against Yuki despite Yuki not having a disability. All because Daniel called him helmet. You don’t get anything about Formula One on your Instagram because it’s a bloodbath in RB. And people are hating on Logan again. Saying that he’s only here because they want it a token American.

I don’t check Ferrari or Red Bull anymore because those are the most two toxic teens I have ever seen. I don’t understand why they don’t do what Aston Martin and Stake dies. They put their results in their stories so that haters can’t start a war in the comments. McLaren started doing that recently too. It’s only a matter of time until the other team admins get the hint.

Hopefully. I’m sick of seeing people insult people the way they are. It’s not fair to that one person who got banned from commenting, encouraging stuff under McLaren‘s post to get banned for seven days, but these people are over here and salting each other in the most bio ways possible and yet they’re allowed to go Scott free.

2024 needs to end soon or I’m ending my life and this is not even a joke. I’m Starting to want to get out of the formula fandom. Like, I’m legit going to follow everything to do with formula one fans. I know they shouldn’t do anything for me, but the fans are a huge part of the sport, and since they don’t believe in their own teams, or they’re fighting against each other, how is one meant to enjoy the sport?

Sorry, I ranted. You probably don’t care about the comment section or anything I said, but you’re the only person I can talk to about how I feel and you actually read it. If you need me to stop, just let me know and I will. You’re the only one up here who isn’t really that bias.

Ja ne

I’m sorry if I bothered you and annoyed you. I know your other Aon has been complaining about the comment section this entire time and I wanted to let out my woes. I apologize.

omg don’t ever worry abt ranting!!!!!!!

and yeah, the fandom can be REALLY toxic which thankfully i don’t see much of because i only ever interact w 44 fans & i totally agree that teams shld start playing results on their stories instead ! it might lessen the toxicity of the fandom/comments lol

ppl have been hating on yuki tho lmao, i love that guy tho😞

and i think logan’s here bc james genuinely sees his potential! i got into f1 last yr but i heard logan was only in f2 for a year! i think he’s a driver again this season bc james sees a chance in him 🤒

[f0point5]

My hot take is that DTS gets too much hate. It’s a Netflix show so of course it’s gonna dramatise everything but at the end of the day it gives drivers and teams that usually wouldn’t get it, a huge amount of exposure. I think that fans who have become fans because of the show don’t deserve the hate they get and often are seen as ‘not real fans’ which is so stupid. Every sport has fans that range from someone who watches on a random weekend and only knows like one or two people, all the way to people who pay thousands and go to every single event and have all the merch.

There’s too much of a fan hierarchy involved in F1 and it’s very frustrating, puts too much of a pressure on people for no reason.

I think everyone here has been so nice and respectful and you’ve created a lovely community feeling for everyone so Thankyou!

I definitely agree with that DTS fans get too much hate.

I think the show itself is appropriately roasted because the real drama is interesting enough they don’t need to just manufacture narratives the way they do.

I’m so pleasantly surprised by everyone’s attitude the hot takes, this has been so fun! 🧡🧡🧡

[ocularmacdown]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

TYSM @sewerkingcharlie FOR THE TAG !!! i love doing things like this teehee

are you named after anyone?

my legal name is the same as a film/musical character (my parents maintain that wasn’t the entire reason). currently irl i go by just the first letter of that name, but the name i WANT also happens to be a film character (coincidental, but i was happy when i realised)

zoot is the muppet’s band’s saxophonist and i chose him over gonzo (who is technically my fave muppet, beloved thing <3) cuz i also play the sax.

do you have any kids?

nope! and i don’t want any - ofc i can’t predict how future me will feel, but i’ve genuinely never felt/understood the desire to have a child (have felt exactly one paternal pang). still love kids, just not for me!

do you use sarcasm a lot?

i have no idea what’s “a lot”? i enjoy jokes and bits (particularly with my sibling) that usually entail sarcasm, so technically yes, but in a silly/exaggerated way.

first thing you notice about people?

i think i’d say what they’re wearing, cuz personal style can be so cool and varied. general vibe/personality is a close second tho (and ofc first if i’m not physically seeing the person). neurodivergent brain sometimes picks up on vibes TOO much tho-

what’s your eye colour?

like. green? not bright green tho.

scary movies or happy endings?

i’m not really a scary movie watcher*, so happy endings!! small rant, but i’ve noticed people often view happy endings as less inspired than sad/shocking ones, which just is NOT true and really frustrates me. a happy ending can be just as if not more thought provoking and empathetic and realistic !! pls love joy in media more !!

*i have seen all of one horror movie BUT i am a huge fan of uk tv series inside no. 9. it’s so SO good and the only real “scary content” i’ve ever been passionate about.

special talents?

if i lie on my stomach, i can bend my back and legs up and forwards far enough to touch the tip of my nose with my toes :D

what are your hobbies?

drawing and crocheting are the biggest i guess, but i sometimes bake or sew (tho that’s mostly diy-ing rather than big projects). i rly love making bottle cap badges and i used to paint patches too, if that counts. consuming media at a rate of knots is my full time passion /hj.

have any pets?

YES. YES I DO. I COULD GO INTO GREAT DETAIL. IF YOU WANT ME TOO. JUST DM. I WILL SEND YOU AN ESSAY. tldr is i have three cats currently. MY cat, effectively, is a tiny girl cat called (lady) cleo and i adore her <3

what sports to you play/have you played?

as a kid, i swam for several years and was goalkeeper for my school’s girl’s football team for a bit (i was tiny…the uniform and gloves were massive…,), and i always ALWAYS did loads on sports day. did netball in secondary but quit cuz i hated it (the other girls were real assholes) and also badminton after school club (my friend and i just did rallies non competitively, it was great).

i think sport gave me gender euphoria when i was a kid, but as a teen it did the opposite. i’d love to start swimming again in the future and i wanna take up boxing (got some rage to get out my system teehee). i TRY to go to the gym weekly.

how tall are you?

5’4…my mum’s short genes messed up my dad’s average/tall genes :|

favourite subject in school?

DRAMA. always. in primary i loved creative writing, and for the most of secondary i really enjoyed maths. i ADORED geography in secondary (about out 2 my geog teacher….i miss u sir…), but it was too much for me at alevel. i really enjoyed film studies alevel tho!!but yeah. drama forever <3

dream job?

i guess acting ?? but also not ?? i have a very unsteady grasp on what i want my future to look like, and job is not the focus of my plans. i’d love love love to act professionally, but i’d also be just as content with working in cafes forever (what i do currently) and being silly and trans and making art on the internet. i really don’t know. but that’s okay <3

i uhhh don’t have 15 mutuals yet 🧍‍♂️ i will just tag all of y’all tho - u don’t have to participate ofc !!! and i think everyone should do this that wants too !!!

@boodlesofdoodles @beesallhail @cloveclump @cactusfool @certifiedeccentric @angelic-charlie-kelly @emodennis @a-nice-egg-offering

[jjungkookislife]

AHHHHHHHHHHHH! My new fav couple and their cutie bratty kitty is back with Valentine’s Decisions 😆🥳😁 I love how Yoongi is so excited and loves celebrating holidays to that degree 😍 His personal wittle Valentine’s basket for Spider is just so adorable 🥰 I also find it hilarious how I am so alike with MC. I also am not really the celebrating type of person. I hate crowds and don’t want to put myself to that kind of torture during holidays. I would rather celebrate it privately with loved ones or in this case, with just your partner. Yoongi going all out is just so adorable and i love how much effort he puts in to celebrate it with just his two loves 🥹 Love this, I just can’t get enough of this two and their baby ☺️

Also, Yoongi surprising us with the announcement of his concert? HOW DARE HE!?!??!? No one saw that coming 😱 As much as I love it, I am sad that I can’t watch him personally since he isn’t coming to my country. I’ll probably be lurking and waiting if someone is going to video the concerts livestream, like always 😅 but I am still happy that he gets to have his first concert tour, so proud of him 🥹

Yes I definitely wanted to write it different but when I started I was so tired my mind went blank and all the funny stuff I daydreamed about at work disappeared 🥲

Yoongi is super into holidays lol I can picture him getting bunny ears for Spider when Easter rolls around 🤣 but yes oc hates crowds (me too) my husband asked if I wanted to go out to eat for Valentine’s Day and I was like 😬 no. I hate it Lmao we tried once and it’s just too much and I hate people bumping into me or standing too close 😅

I had thought of Jimin coming over but it didn’t fit well in the drabble. Maybe he goes over the next day to drop of treats for Spider 🤣

Yes I wasn’t expecting it! I was in the car when the live started and then I got the notification about his tour and ahhhh I will be trying to get tickets so but I’m still in shock Lmao I will be leaving my husband home again while I go see my other husband 🤣 he’s a good sport lmao he says “go with your friends and I’ll stay home with the cat” he’s not a huge bts fan so I get it 🤣 I don’t think any of the US concerts are near me so I will have to travel but I don’t expect them showing up in Tennessee 🤣 though I did meet some army at the airport for ptd la and I was surprised at how many of us there were. We must just live very far apart in the state. Unfortunately when they have movies and such, it’s never near me. It’s usually 1.5 to 2/3 hours away and it’s usually on days I work 🥲 but I hope you do get to see them someday! I will also be looking for livestreams just in case 👀👀👀👀

[neonfretra]

HEYYYYY ^_^ rambling below the cut

@sevennone

"New Spanish-Language Website Highlights Latest LosVGK Initiatives" from vgk

The new site is accessible by clicking “EN” or “ES” or the globe icon on the top right corner of the English site. Vegas is the first NHL team to produce a version of its website in Spanish and the second to offer two languages (joining Montreal, which has English and French).

NO WAY???

i doubt yall want to see me recite the los vgks (vgks hispanic and latino inclusion initiative) accomplishments but if i ever cared about what yall wanna see i dont think we would be two reblogs deep here now would we

(you could see it for yourself on the article itself!)

because THEIR PODCAST HATES ME i can only find the episode i believe youre referencing (Knight Time at Noon, episode #97) on amazon music. it is also a 47 minute episode and im not transcribing that within a reasonable span of time.

...unless?

the answer is i actually dont usually do well with podcasts cause i accidentally start tunin them out and then i gotta rewind it over . i do this a couple times LMAO

(also my bones disagree with transcribin right now. this post does NOT need to be longer trust me.)

for the interested, the section concernin los vgk goes from bout 15:10-23:20!

brings a tear to the eye :') genuinely worth the read + listen!

@stereax

right off the bat i had no idea what hockey night in canada was until right now LMAO i am unfortunately a sharks blogger through and through i dont know anything about hockey outside of the san jose sharks

(for anyone in a similar boat, hockey night in canada is the cbcs nhl cast ^_^)

IN PUNJABI? YOU PROMISE?

i will make an active effort to be normal. but thats CRAZY <3

(hello, neonfretra in the future! i failed.)

its fairly unfortunate that its ALSO a post season exclusive service, punjabi speakers canNOT listen to nothing games ... !

(i do wonder WHY its such a common trend but my guess is just finals are when viewership spikes and thats when broadcasting companies benefit the most from multiple language streams. unfortunate!)

theres this segment from "Hockey Night in Canada, with Mr. Chapared Shot" by Harnarayan Singh that piques my interest actually! (warning: the article contains sikhophobia and islamophobia against a sikh person)

The most famous term on the show, hands down, is chapared shot. We don’t have a word for slap shot in our language, so we took the word that means a slap to the face and added on shot at the end. It’s been a HUGE hit. I’ll be out shopping or something, and I’ll hear, “Mr. Chapared Shot!” Or kids will come up to me and demand that I say it. There are others that I really enjoy, too, though. When we mention the penalty box, we use Punjabi words that equate to “the box of punishment.” And we’re always referencing chai tea. Like, if your team had a bad period … maybe they need a cup of chai tea during the intermission.

THIS IS CRAZY FOR ME ACTUALLY...

PUNJABI CAST IN JOKES AND MEMES... thats awesome... hello... sounds good sounds natural... <3

actually i cant stress enough how crazy it is to read when casters put cultural terms into casting to ME! its really fascinating to read, ESPECIALLY because the two broadcasts we have read in this post so far are about selling the sport to a new demographic of nonhockey fans

to me it does feel like a sort of bridging of the gap in that sense with their new fans by not just tossin them into the deep end with technical terms or literal translations

which is what makes something a good translation and adaptation while existing as a completely separate cast!

yeagh...

A lot of times, it’s spur of the moment, but I’m proud to say that the general style I use has its roots in Punjabi culture. If it’s a big enough goal, and if the name fits, I always try to let the last syllable go on as long as I can — at the very least, I try to beat out the goal horn. And that comes from Punjabi singers, who are known for trying to compete with each other to see who can hold a note the longest.

(note: emphasis my own)

AWESOME. NO NOTES. i have nothing of worth to add. i love the way cultural raisings imbue you with certain associations .

(again the full article is worth the read! it follows the personal journey of singh as a caster and the work put into getting hockey night in punjabi off the ground and on air)

i feel the need to stress that there ARE other leagues and that nhl isnt the only way to watch a game in preferred languages. but it would be incredibly nice to be able to watch an nhl game in punjabi or asl any time of the season the same way french and spanish are options (AND WITH LIMITATIONS AT THAT...!) (the french are region locked.)

however i will spare the side search of what other leagues out there are and what languages they broadcast in.

REALLY cool is that hockey night in canada actually has provided broadcasts in other languages as well: italian, inuktitut, cree, hindi, tagalog, mandarin, and cantonese

im lookin at wikipedia sorry yall LOL

they chose these based off the most popular languages in the city each canadian team is based in, which does raise the question of WHY THE HELL IS THERE SO MUCH PUSH BACK... its not even love thy neighbor its more just. can we start with thy neighbor EXISTS??? racism is stupid and more breaking news with neonfretra at 6.

also it was baffling to see fully serious, uncritically posted pro forcing assimilation views. hold your opinions, ill hold mine, my opinion is you people are a tar pit .

but to be a little bit embarassing, it is actually incredibly exciting to realize how much there has been on a larger scale level for quite a few languages <3 its not a secondary language, non white non english speaking communities DO exist and ARE worthy of acknowledgement and involvement <3 i WANT other people to watch my terrible no good team. EYE know that anyone, me or my friends or my enemies or the stranger i will see twice in my lifetime, have a place in somethin as indulgent to watch as sports without havin to assimilate to the english speaking demands of the times!

... but only for the playoffs

do you see the problem with me talkin about my personal feelings towards these sorta casts. nothin new to be said and anythin of interest ALREADY covered in these articles <3

@planesandtrainingwheels

oh howdy! :) unfortunately this years schedule hasnt seemed to be posted yet u.u but aptn has a designated hockey in cree page if you want to look out for it! i wouldnt hold my breath, last seasons schedule was posted in january

they also have a dictionary of key vocabulary which is always interestin! ^_^

not all phrases included have an english translation and im not goin to try to figure how to do it myself in live time, so ! make do ^_^

(but if you ever wanted to learn a new language you can always hit up the plains cree language resource website though! just dont make me do it over the span of one post)

Roughing – ē-wī-pāspinē-nōtinikēt (he is almost going to fight someone) (...) Slashing – ē-kakwē-wīsakatahiwāt (he is trying to hurt him) this one can be translated several ways but the intent of this is trying to impede another player with their stick by hitting them and hurting them Too many men – ē-osāmiyaticik (there are too many of them)

you know what this actually explained the difference between a roughing and fighting penalty to me LMAO

(also laughed at there are too many of them. THERE SURE ARE! its a really good penalty name in both languages)

i do like the more literal meaning these compared to the more abstracted concepts because let me be honest with you. its INCREDIBLY hard to summarize some of these rules (and even then . how the heck we goin to even simplify slashing here!) (he is trying to hurt him why not) (you could argue they are in fact tryin to hurt each other the way an axe tries to hurt a log)

all this talk does make realize WOW hockey rules have some pretty weird names huh (WHAT IS INTERFERENCE!!!)

another article that caught my eye personally was "Veteran broadcaster hopes Cree 'Hockey Night in Canada' can help save language" by Gemma Karstens-Smith

i really did mean gatherin interest and supportin language learners in my first post (im part of the problem of dying languages! HELP!!!) and to know that hockey night in cree shoots for the stars does make me. you know. want to just carry that same hope! ^_^

The 60-year-old broadcaster from Canoe Lake Cree Nation in northern Saskatchewan is set bring the sport he loves to his community in a whole new way next month with the debut of "Hockey Night in Canada in Cree." "It means a lot. We're losing our languages across Canada," said Iron, who'll do play-by-play in Plains Cree for the six national NHL broadcasts. "We're trying to save the Cree language. And it'll help. Even to call a hockey game in Cree, it's a big thing."

one of the major things about castin in all these different languages is the connection ^_^ watchin sports is honest to god one of the biggest social experiences ive had and its an easy conversation facilitator.

ive observed a LOT of readings of peoples personal gaining from these casts being that they created connections with their peers that they felt a cultural gap with, having a similar grounds for a love of sports, and their family members they felt a generational gap with, learning the language of their family or having a way to include their non english speaking relatives in the conversation.

and from a completely unrelated angle, how many friends do you got tryin to learn japanese or korean because of the things they watch or read or listen to! my friend found music and television to be a massive help in her own journey to learn a language!

bringing your own culture and language to a massively popular platform like the nhl is HUGE to sharing and keeping it alive

crack open a broadcast in a different language! toss yourself into that show whose tropes you think are weird! its fun, trust me :)

also unrelated, their tag line? of sorts is "kitāskwēw, pihtikwahēw" means "he shoots, he scores" like baby i wish my team knew how to do that

GOD I NEED TO CUT MYSELF OFF. we are NO LONGER going back to elaborate. we are NOT adding any more.

thank you yall for real though! would not have known bout ANY of this otherwise <3

and POST!!!

maybe nhl in asl has given me a taste of the epic highs and now i am too spoiled . whats stopping us from doing this all the time ... whats stopping us from casting games in whatever popular languages in the area of a teams are ... maybe spanish speakers want to watch nothing games as well as the stanley cup final what then ... have you never wondered what kind of translations of your favorite players names there are out there ... heres how we can force people to actually learn those two or three or four languages theyve always wanted to pick up ... gather interest in learning less well known languages ... ill go first and then get dragged for exclusively sayin nothing related to the game LMAO

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 5

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 4804

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

*********************************************************************

It had been a few days since Bakugo had visited. Dabi was so torn between wanting to punish you for being a brat and praising you for finally walking. On one hand it was a law that you worked out every day. It was in writing and you had tried to tell him you weren’t going to do it.

Part of him knew he was only so worked up over it because it had happened in front of Bakugo. If it had happened any other day, he would have given you a quick spank and just thrown your ass in the pool anyways.

The look on your face had made it worth it though. To see that tenacious side of you, the one that looked like it was ready for a fight… Yeah, he could get used to seeing that look.

Then there was the aftercare of your little outburst. You had let him hold you all night. He didn’t know if that was intentional or if you had only reached for him in sleep out of instinct. He remembered how you had reached for Bakugo and it gave him a headache. For now, he chose to not make a big deal about it.

It had been a long day and you were ready to pass out. Dabi had taken the training wheels off and was starting to make you walk more and more on your own without his help. He was always quick to laugh when you fell on your ass with a taunt of, “You look like Shoto when he was a toddler. Don’t worry I didn’t help him either.” The only time he did help you, was to help you into the high barstool at the kitchen island. Making more jokes about you needing help getting into your highchair and asking if you needed him to feed you too.

You didn’t know if it was the fatigue or the teasing, but something had you in a foul mood. You flipped him off, ~I hate you~.

Dabi’s eyes softened in an almost annoyingly affectionate way, “No you don’t.” He handed you the bowl of ice cream you had begged for. “Good work today. I gave you an extra scoop.” He winked, took out his own spoon, and quickly stole a bite.

Your mouth hung open at his audacity. ~No! Wrong! Hate!~

He laughed loudly, “I said I gave you an extra scoop! You’re not gonna miss one bite!” He reached his spoon back out, “Just for that I’m gonna take another.”

You smacked his hand away and furrowed your eyebrows at him, ~Mine.~

He feigned shock, “I’m sorry… did you just… hit me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shoveled a huge bite of ice cream into your mouth. It was way too much and if you weren’t so intent on being a brat you would have laughed. Dabi however was in no laughing mood as he saw the melted ice cream dripping down your chin.

He reached out squished your cheeks together with one hand. He hovered over you, enjoying the height difference and absolutely losing it over the look of pure innocence in your eyes as the ice cream continued to slip past your lips. He leaned closer to you and whispered in a husky voice, “You’re making a mess… Now. Swallow.”

Your eyes connected with his and you obediently swallowed what was left of the ice cream. He swiped a thumb across your bottom lip to collect what was left before sucking into his mouth all the while keeping his eyes focused on yours.

You swear he was leaning in even closer when the loud clanging of your spoon hitting the table broke you apart.

He cleared his throat and pushed himself away from you. You had to focus really hard on not pouting. Why were you disappointed? Had you wanted him to kiss you? Or were you just horny again? This was a question you had been faced with a lot in your adult life, because as much as you hate to admit it… your quirk does make you a total horn dog. It’s been what? YEARS since you had good and proper sex.

You shuddered as you remembered back to the lab. You had sex there a few times… but… you couldn’t really say if it was any good on the account that you don’t remember most of it. What you did remember, you wish you didn’t. They hadn’t called it sex… they called it ‘research’, and boy where they a fan of their research.

Dabi lifted your chin to force you to look at him, “Hey where did you go just now?” He saw the tears pooling in your eyes and he felt a spike of panic at the thought the he was the cause of them. “Hey… hey I’m sorry. I take things too far sometimes.” He went to lower his hand but your gripped it and brought it back to your face. Needing his presence to anchor you to the present before you spiraled into memories of the past.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay. I need you to take a deep breath then I need you to hold it until I say so. Can you do that?” You hadn’t even realized your breathing had started to tighten until he said something. You nodded slowly as you tried to remember back to your hero training. You took a deep breath in through your nose. “Good girl. Now hold it and count to ten.” You did as he said before letting a shaky breath out of your mouth. “You’re doing great, just keep doing that. Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Your eyes widened. Did you want to be held? Or did you want to lock yourself in your room. You didn’t even know. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, what you needed. Would you find comfort in his embrace, or would you feel confined? So, you just stared back at him and shrugged.

“Law number one. I need a yes or no. You can do that. I know you can.” You gulped and nodded your head. He picked you up, but instead of picking you up bridal style like he usually did, he picked you up like he would a child. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

He walked you back to your room abandoning the rest of the ice cream to melt on the counter. You buried you face into his neck and you felt his fingers comb through your hair. He sat down on the bed and pulled you close to him. “I’ve had my fair share of anxiety attacks. They suck… ass. I get that. The only thing you can do is breath and try and clear you mind.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair, and you could feel your heartbeat start to slow down to match his. “So, uh… I guess I’ll try to distract you. I could tell you a story about me. Would you like that?”

You could already feel yourself starting to calm down, but you didn’t want to pass up on an opportunity to learn more about him, so you simply nodded and burrowed further into him.

You could feel him shift uncomfortably underneath you. “When I first got away from my family. I was just a dumb kid. I was angry and hell bent on proving to anyone who even looked my way that I was strong. Once I was running an errand for the league at a local market and I saw Shoto. It was after his accident, but his hair was a dead giveaway. He was there with Fuyumi, I think she was just trying to keep him busy.”

He leaned back and pulled you with him making the two of you more comfortable. “I saw his scar and was so sure that our dad did it. I was ready to hunt him down and kick his ass.” He sighed before letting out a small chuckle, “But then the squirt did the weirdest thing. It was like he was drawn to me. I looked nothing like the brother he knew. Black hair, scars, and staples, But he broke free of Fuyumi and ran straight towards me. Out of instinct I leaned down to pick him up, but he stopped right as he got to me. He put a hand up to my face and then to his own scar. He looked me square in the eyes and said ‘Ouch’ and then just ran away.”

You smiled, that definitely sounded like Todoroki. The more you thought about it, there were definitely some small similarities between the two brothers. Not that you’d mention that to either of them.

Dabi continued to talk and tell you stories until you eventually drifted off into dreams of young Dabi and what he would have been like. Your mind conjured up images of him in a UA uniform. Him competing in a sports festival. Him in a library studying for exams.

Unfortunately, your dreams didn’t last long. You woke a few hours later with a stabbing pain in your abdomen. You whimpered as you tried to roll over in an attempt to find a position that would alleviate the pain. Instead you rolled straight into the lean body of Dabi. Oh no. Dabi. You needed to get cleaned up before he woke up.

You tried to roll away from him, but his arm snaked around you and pulled you closer, “Y/n? What’s wrong? Have a bad dream?” He remembered that he wasn’t going to get a verbal answer, so he opened his eyes to see you looking absolutely miserable. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

You nodded but then winced when a really bad cramp rocked through you. You had always had really painful periods, but you hadn’t had to feel it in it’s full affects in years.

“Bullshit, you don’t look okay. Are you sick?”

Not even bothering to answer, you pushed away from him and slowly made your way to the bathroom. He leaned over to turn the bedside lamp on and that’s when it clicked for him. “Holy shit! How are you even alive, that’s a fuck ton of blood. I’ve been stabbed before and I didn’t bleed that much.”

You knew he was just being dramatic, but it still made you cringe that he was witnessing this. You could hear him stripping the sheets as you turned the shower on. Now all your recent mood swings made sense. Just last night you had been pissed, horny, and crying all in the span of several minutes. Stupid hormones.

When you stepped out of the shower there was a box of tampons and a box of pads sitting on the counter next to the sink. Just seeing them made you pout. You fucking hated your period.

You stepped out once you were dressed and heard the buzz of the dryer. Surely there was no way Dabi had cleaned the sheet that fast. You walked out of the bedroom to see him rushing towards you with a massive blanket. He stopped when he saw you standing in the hallway. “Uh… okay. So, game plan. I warmed up a blanket. I have Fruits Basket queued up and chocolate chip pancakes are on stand bye.”

Your eyes widened ~How?~

“How what? How did I know?” You nodded and he you swear to god he blushed. “I uh… I may have texted my brother. Who texted Bakugo, who called me, and now here we are.”

That made more sense. Katsuki had always been the only one who could handle your mood swings when you were menstruating. Everyone else claimed you were too scary. When you were younger your quirk would become unpredictable and it would randomly activate at the most inconvenient times. Your quirk used to be heavily influenced by your emotions, and when your monthly cycle came around it was almost impossible to control your emotions.

It took him a few tries but eventually Katsuki got the routine down. Warm blanket, something sweet, and some sappy anime, which we’d never admit it, but he actually loved.

You accepted the blanket from him and hobbled towards the couch. You pulled your knees to your chest in an attempt to get comfortable. Dabi disappeared but quickly returned with the pancakes. “I’m an idiot for not thinking about this. It obviously was going to happen at some point. You’ve been here for about three weeks.”

~Thank you~ You took the pancakes from him and he gave you a weird look.

“Okay I’m not good at the whole taking care of others thing. So… do I leave you alone? Do you expect me to watch this shit with you?”

You glared at him as you ate your pancakes and because you were already in a bad mood… you shrugged. Did you do it on purpose to piss him off. Of course.

He growled before throwing himself down on the couch next to you. “You’re lucky you don’t feel good you fucking brat. I’m really trying to be nice.”

You ignored him and hit play. You knew you were being ridiculous, but you also couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you wanted his attention any way you could get it. You finished your pancakes and were about two episodes into the show, but your cramps hadn’t subsided. You whined as you hugged the blanket around you and started to toss around trying to find a position, any position that would help with your cramps.

You thought Dabi had fallen back asleep, so you were scared shitless when his arms wrapped around you and pulled you down onto his chest. He was laying on his back pinning your chest to his. You could barely see the blue of his eyes in the dark. He looked so tired though. “Just smack me if it’s too much… but do you trust me?”

You bit your lip but nodded anyways. You knew by now that Dabi would stop if you asked him to. So, while you were nervous about what he was going to do, you also trusted him to listen to you.

He reached his hands around and pushed his hands just past the waistband of your sleeping shorts. Your breath hitched but his hands stopped there. You wondered what he was doing, but then his hands started to heat up and oh shit did it feel good. It was like he was your own personal heating pad.

You hummed into his neck and shifted a little bit to sink further into him. You hiked one of your legs up and wiggled to push yourself into his hands more, chasing the warm comfort.

You stayed like that for a while. The tops of his fingers ghosting over the curve of your ass as his palms pressed into your lower back. It was honestly impressive how he his hands were just hot enough to feel good without burning you.

Dabi sucked in a breath, “You like that huh?” He pulled you closer to him. His hands started to knead into your lower back as he buried his nose into your hair. You let out a groan at how good it felt. Before you could stop yourself you grinded down on his thigh. “Oh, you really like it…” You could hear the playful note in his voice. “Like I said… stop me if it’s too much.”

You knew what direction this was heading, and you didn’t care because it felt so good. His hands slipped lower and grabbed your ass and started to massage your cheeks before pulling you down hard into his thigh. “I heard somewhere…” His mouth was at your ear now nipping at the shell of it. “That the best thing for period cramps…” He moved his thigh up to meet your center as his hands pulled you down and moved you back and forth. “Is an orgasm.” Your fingers found his shirt and gripped onto it while you started to ride his thigh. “I would be selfish not to help you out.” His lips found your neck and he pressed gentle featherlike kisses there, making you sigh. “Take what you need from me baby.”

He gave your ass a hard squeeze before giving it a slap. “Fuck, your ass is perfect.” He gripped your hair and pulled you back and his lips met yours and you moaned at how delicious it was. This. This is what you needed. You needed someone to make you forget. To make you feel like you weren’t some fragile and broken toy. He was letting you take the lead while he maintained all of the control.

Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Your quirk activated and in your touch you could feel his overwhelming desire. You could also feel hesitation. He must be worried about pushing you too far. You pushed your lust back at him through your touch to reassure him you were more than okay this. He growled and deepened your kiss before yanking himself away. “Fuck Y/n! I-I think you’re quirk triggered. You smell… god you smell so fucking good!”

You grit your teeth. You wanted to tell him sorry, but the words wouldn’t leave your lips. His hands came to your hips and pulled you, so you were now grinding on his already hard dick. Your hands stopped his as you shook your head no. Now you were worried you were the one taking advantage of him. You knew your smell could be overwhelming.

He panted as he bucked up, “No, please don’t stop on my account. It’s fucking hot. I promise you y/n… if you ever let me…” One of his hands found it’s way back to your ass while the other snaked into your shorts and started to rub your clit through your underwear. “I’ll show you what it feels like to be fucking worshiped.”

You felt your orgasm quickly building and Dabi could tell. He could see the way your chest heaved and he could feel the way you began to frantically snap your hips. He kissed up your neck while he picked up the speed on your clit. “You want to know why?” He bucked his hips hard up into yours. “Because you’re a good girl. You are MY good girl.”

That was all you needed. You shook and your thighs squeezed around him. He kept going to help you ride it out as long as possible. You felt all your tension bleed out. All of the stress of the past couple days, hell the past couple weeks, didn’t even matter anymore. And all you did was ride his thigh.

When you finally had enough you grabbed his hand and squeezed. Panting you nuzzled back up to him and his hands trailed up and down your spine. “That’s my girl. Good job.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled the blanket back up over you. “Now let’s get some sleep.” We can skip the routine tomorrow. We can just do this instead. One day off won’t kill you.”

You hummed as you melted into him. Your eyes drooped closed and the last thing you remembered was Dabi grabbing your thigh and hitching your leg over his waist.

“The gag won’t be enough. We need to make sure she doesn’t even have the option of talking.” That voice sent chills down your spine. It belonged to the man you only knew as Dr. A3. They never used their names around you. Just an extra precaution in case you were to escape. Dr. A3 was the one who seemed to be in charge of all our your “experiments”. He was psychotic and you hate him with every cell in your body.

You were back on that table. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything but the blindfold.

“I can handle that, but my quirk will eventually ware off.” That was Cogernot. He was technically a villain who was being held in the same way you were. His quirk allowed him to manipulate with people’s cognition. He could turn off your senses, mess with your memories, and so much more. It was common that they grouped the two of you together in the lab.

“That’s fine how long do you think it’ll last?”

Cogernot sighed, “It’s different with every person but the more often I do it the longer it’ll last. But you have to be careful. If I mess with her too much it could become permanent.”

Dr. A3 laughed, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. If that girl were able to talk, she could easily escape, or even worse she could make us all kill one another.” He ran a hand through your tangled hair and you winced in pain. “Besides girls like her are meant to be seen and not heard. We have another girl here who can walk through people’s dreams and convince them to do all kinds of stuff. We don’t need y/n’s honeyed words anymore. Do it.”

“If you say so… But don’t come crying to me when I accidentally break your favorite toy.”

You felt a hand press to your forehead, and you felt something snap.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you found that you were still laying on top of Dabi in his living room. You were able to keep your panic at bay by slowly breathing and counting in your head. You matched your breathing to Dabi’s, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

You looked at his sleeping face. He looked so different like this, when he wasn’t yelling at you or teasing you. A flush came over your cheeks when you remembered what happened earlier that morning. You traced your finger over the staples under his eyes.

His hand flew up and grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you?” He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, so you shoved on his shoulder to make him look at you. “I literally just woke up and you’re already begging for attention.” It drove you crazy that he wouldn’t open his eyes to look at you. The asshole knew you couldn’t talk…. Couldn’t talk.

The dream came crashing back to you. You pushed yourself off of him and went in search for your journal.

“Wait y/n… come on. Come back. I’ll open my eyes. Don’t throw a fucking temper tantrum over it Jesus.”

You came back with your journal and sat down on the table that was across from the couch and started to write everything you could remember about your dream. Dabi sat up and tried to smooth his hand up your thigh but you paused your writing long enough to slap it away. ~Not now~

“There’s no way you’re that mad. Come on what are you writing. Is this our first fight? Are fighting right now? That’s cute.”

You scowled as you shoved your journal in his face. The look on his face went from amused to concerned as he started reading.

“Wait that’s where Cogernot has fucking been this whole time? We thought he died.” He looked at you “How many times did he use his quirk on you?”

You shrugged and for once he didn’t yell at you for it.

He ran a hand through his white hair. “So, if this is really just his quirk and not some kind of trauma then it should ware off soon. That idiots quirk usually only lasts for a couple of hours though, sometimes a few days. I’ve never seen it last this long.” He stood up and started to pace. You watched him go back and forth a few times before he threw his hands in the air, “Shit!” He picked up a pillow and it immediately turned to ash.

He looked back to you and saw the alarm in your eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m overreacting. It’s just – That fucking idiot may have permanently fucked you up.” You cringed at his words. Was that how he saw you? Fucked up?

He started pacing again, “He told me once there was a way to override his quirk though. You just have to convince your brain that it’s dying. Something about that kicks it into gear and nullifies his quirk.” He looked to the pool and then to you. “We could drown you! I know CPR, it’ll be fine.”

~NO NO NO~ The look in Dabi’s eyes was starting to scare you. He looked like he was ready to do it no matter what you said. As much as you wanted to talk again, you didn’t think it was worth risking your life over. But apparently, he did. Apparently learning sign, and reading your journal was just too much work for him. If he was this desperate to fix it… if he was willing to drown you just so you could talk….

You were ripped from your thoughts when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked and hit him while tears streamed down your cheeks. There was no way he would go through with this… right?

You heard the sliding glass door open and all the sudden you were only steps away from the pool. You couldn’t see into his eyes, you couldn’t see what was going on in that fucked up head of his. You slid a hand under his shirt right before he got to the pool and did the only thing you could think of. You showed him how scared you were. You made him feel that terror. He paused only for a moment before jumping in the pool.

He let go only for a few seconds just so he could pull your back to his chest and whisper into your hair. “I know you’re going to hate me, but eventually you will think me for this.”

And then he was shoving you under. You clawed at his arms, ripping several of his staples out. You poured all of your terror and your pain into your touch and grabbed his wrists that were holding you under.

This was fucked up, this was so fucked up. You didn’t want to die. Why was he doing this? He didn’t even know if it would work! Your panic wasn’t making it any easier. You were losing oxygen fast and before you knew it you were starting to black out. You were going to die… You were going to drown in the same pool he had held you in so sweetly and helped you rehabilitate in. Your fingers ceased their scratching and your arms fell limp.

He didn’t bring you back up until you had stopped moving completely. He pulled you back up to the surface and immediately laid you down on the hard-concrete outside of the pool. In seconds he was on you preforming CPR. “Come on… You’re strong. You can take a little drowning. Hell, I’ve drowned a few times. Well I’ve been waterboarded… I don’t know if that exactly the same thing.” He nervously babbled to your unconscious body as he continued his chest compressions. “Come on y/n! Fuck!” He pinched your nose and breathed into you. Just a few hours ago his lips had been on yours for an entirely different reason and he desperately wished he could go back to that moment now.

He continued his chest compressions tears pooling in his eyes. “COME ON Y/N!” He did this. This was his fault. His father was right about him. The world was right about him. He’s a monster. He was supposed to be protecting you. You trusted him and he did this to you. He had felt your fear, your pain, and he did it anyway.

The thought of you never getting to talk again had thrown him into a panic. The thought of those fuckers taking apart of who you were away from you made him see red. He acted impulsively and now he’s paying the price.

“WAKE UP! PLEASE!”

You coughed and water came flooding out of your mouth. He cried out in relief and rolled you onto your side and patted your back to help you expel the water from your lungs.

It fucking burned. Your throat was raw from the chlorine and your brain was foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Y/n… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I-I don’t even know what to say.”

He reached his hand out to touch your face but you caught it. You stared into his eyes with as much hate as a person could have and gripped his hand so hard you could feel your nails cutting into his skin, “Fuck… You…”

*****************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry

[1kook]

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.  warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”  

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened.  “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch. 

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive. 

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still. 

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion. 

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[baku-bowl]

broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

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Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart. 

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?" 

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

Or

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

Or

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

[amesstm]

I’ll Carry You

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Word Count: 1376

A/N: Sorry for not updating in a while, my ADHD said “Hey, let’s hyperfocus on something that is not writing fanfiction.” So, we’ll see when I have a phase of writing fanfiction more consistently lol

First part: https://amesstm.tumblr.com/post/647216128109723648/nose-bleeds-part-1

Ushijima didn’t know what to do when you asked, “Is this heaven?” So, he did what he thought was best.

“No, this is Shiratorizawa Academy,” he replied with his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Did he really hit you that hard?

You chuckled, but winced from the pain. “I know, Ushijima.”

Not paying too much attention to whatever joke went over his head, Ushijima silently folded up his shirt to put over your nose. The scent of mint and sweat overwhelmed your senses. Ushijima was simple, so of course he would smell like mint. Minus the blood pouring out of your nose, you could get used to this smell.

He lifted you up from the ground, but then you stumbled. A strong hand clutched onto your waist, trying to steady you. But then you almost fell forward. “I can walk just fine.”

“I’ll carry you.” Ushijima stated as a fact, leaving no room for argument.

His arms lifted you with ease. You pouted, annoyed that this was becoming a common occurrence now. He softly chuckled under his breath from looking at you. When he stepped out of the gym, everyone stared at the spectacle.

Why in the world was Ushijima shirtless? Why was he carrying the girls’ team’s libero? Why was she clutching onto his shirt for dear life? You were sure those were the questions swarming your peers’ mind. Surely, the fangirls would’ve loved this indirect fan service.

A protest was about to erupt from you, but then you looked up. His jawline was on full view. Could that cut you just from one touch? Possibly. Okay, maybe you can get used to this view. So, you stayed silent.

“Why are you staring at me?” Ushijima asked, starting to blush now.

You squirmed a bit when his eyes looked at you. Something about his eyes were so piercing yet so gentle all at once. “I’ve just never seen you up close.”

“That’s because you always run away from me.” Again, he was just stating a simple fact. Yet, there was a twinge of hurt in his voice. Ushijima was a paradox in one living body. You made a mental note to know every side of him.

Whatever fright you had dissipated into guilt. Thoughts that you should’ve tried harder to get to know him – no, truly know him – flooded your mind. Was he always so soft despite being so rough? Did he hurt on the outside despite looking stone-faced?

Your eyes softened, “Sorry about that.”

He didn’t reply. Perhaps he accepted your apology, or he didn’t want to pry. Once you were at the nurse’s office, she looked shocked to see the spectacle; a crowd had formed with people taking pictures. No doubt, those pictures would end up on gossip blogs or shared between friends.

The nurse instructed Ushijima to lay you onto a bed inside a room. “You’re free to leave if you have something else, Ushijima.”

“No, I did this. So, I’ll stay,” Ushijima replied to the older lady.

After undergoing an examination and interview, you were allowed to rest. Ushijima refused to leave your side, sitting in a chair near the bed. The regular-sized chair looked so small underneath Ushijima’s huge body that you could laugh, but you knew that he wouldn’t appreciate it. His mouth formed a small frown, with eyes distantly looking at the floor.

You softly spoke up, “Hey, it’s fine, Ushijima. You really don’t have to stay here.”

“I’m staying,” he replied. You waited a second, but he didn’t go further.

You frowned looking at him. He only really looked like this when his opponents got a few points ahead of him. Speaking of his team, an idea popped into your head that would make Tendo proud. You hummed, “Okay, then I guess you owe me a favor.”

He turned from his stare-down with the floor to gaze at you. You continued, “For as long as I’m showing symptoms, you should help me. We have plenty of classes together, anyways.”

“I would help you even if you don’t have a concussion,” Ushijima declared in a low tone. Your eyes widened slightly.

The door swung open, with the nurse not looking pleased. “I’m sorry to say but you have a concussion.”

After the news, Ushijima helped you back to your dorm. Apparently, you weren’t supposed to strain your brain too much with sports or too much thinking. Yet here you were – overthinking the fact that you couldn’t practice with your team like usual. The sounds of the volleyball would be too much to even sit in to watch.

As you walked to your dorm, the other students stared at you and Ushijima walking together. The sunglasses were a dead giveaway that you had a concussion from earlier. Now, the students understood why Ushijima carried you to the nurse, shirtless and all. Unfortunately, he was given a shirt by the nurse.

Going up the stairs made you feel nauseous, so you reached for Ushijima’s hand by accident. You stopped walking, so he stopped, too. His olive eyes grew a color of worry as he looked down on you. His warm hand literally swallowed yours whole, forming a secure fist. He hummed, with an inflection of confusion. After collecting yourself, you managed to mutter, “O-oh, sorry, just going upstairs makes me feel sick.”

“I can carry you tomorrow if you want.”

“Paron?” A sting spiked your brain. Yep, definitely shouldn’t think too much about what was going on around you.

“I’ll take care of you,” he reiterated. You simply nodded your head. It was useless trying to argue with him, especially since it was your idea in the first place.

Against your wishes, a blush formed on your cheeks. “I better see you tomorrow then.”

Ushijima stopped in front of your dorm room, avoiding the whispers and stares from the other girls like he always does. He seemed pleased that you were finally showing your confident side to him. For the longest time, he only saw that side of you when you were around Tendo. Now, he was able to experience it firsthand.

Was this a smile? As soon as you thought that, you felt another string. You cringed and clutched your head. Of course, this would happen when you had a concussion.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine and rest,” Ushijima advised, holding out the medication bag towards you.

You smiled, “Thank you.”

Luckily for Ushijima, the sunglasses made it hard to tell that he was blushing.

“Goodbye, Ushijima.” As customary, Ushijima nodded his farewell.

~

Tendo called you in the evening, making you cringe when you heard how loud your ringer was. Your roommate Yuki went out to the cafeteria, promising to get you food, as well. Thank goodness she wasn’t here to listen in on Tendo ripping you a new one.

“How could you get a concussion?” Tendo cried. You put a bit of distance between you and your phone when you heard him about to start ranting. Tendo acted like an older brother, so of course he would start to scold you.

“Thank you, Tendo. It’s like I wanted a concussion,” you responded sarcastically.

“Did you?” You heard a deep voice that could only belong to one person.

“Tendo, am I on speaker?” You asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

There was a pause on the other end. “Maybe.”

You could envision the evil grin plastered on Tendo’s face. You sighed, “Well, Ushijima is making it up to me until my symptoms disappear.”

“Oh?” Tendo said. You hated when he got this way. Even after being friends for a few years, you couldn’t tell what went on in his head sometimes. “Ushijima failed to mention this to me.”

“Now you know,” Ushijima replied.

Tendo whined, “It would’ve been better to hear it from my own roommate first!”

“What happens between Y/N and I will stay between us.”

You blushed, secretly enjoying what he was insinuating. Then you remembered. “By the way, Ushijima... I will be leaving to meet up with my cousin after school tomorrow. So, you won’t need to help me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to be hounded by him.”

“Okay, now back to me-” Tendo said before he started rambling about his day.

A/N: Any guesses on who the cousin is? 👀

[forthekags]

Kageyama Being Oblivious to Other People’s Relationships

I have this huge feeling that Kageyama does not keep up with other people's lives. Like if they're not in his immediate circle, he won't even. So this is my take on him finding out about Bokuaka through Y/N.

Also Time Skip Spoilers!!

Ever since Kageyama joined the Shweiden Adlers, your shared apartment has been annoyingly quiet without him to bother. It wasn't something that was freaking you out, you were happy that he's upping his career. You remain his number one fan.

That doesn't mean you don't get lonely every now and then while he's off at practice.

So naturally, you try to bother some of your old high school friends. But they were put living their own successful lives too! Bokuto with his own team, Kuroo with some smarty stuff, and Kenma becoming a streamer and businessman. Until finally! Akaashi agrees to go out for lunch.

Keiji looked better with age. Hell, he looked happier. At lunch, you both found out that you were in the same boat: busy volleyball boyfriends and lonely feelings. You felt some relief knowing that someone else had those same feelings. The slight guilt of feeling lonely and the slight frustration of not having the person you love there, but also that pride of knowing they're out doing something they love.

Then you had to ask who asked who out first.

Akaashi blushed at the question and was shy at first, but the more he got into the story- the memory- you could see how happy and in love he was with a knucklehead like Bokuto. They had remained close friends after Bo left for college, and Akaashi would go to his games every now and then. He confessed that he started having feelings for Bokuto during this time, but didn't act on it in fear of losing him. But Bo blurted it out after he made Akaashi laugh while they ate at a restaurant after one of his games.

You fell in love with their love. You always knew Bokuto had a soft spot for Akaashi, even in high school. But you never thought he'd be the first one to admit to his feelings. Though it makes sense that he blurted it out. A simpleton really, if he feels it then he says it.

As the days went by, you would get a bit more excited when it neared to your schedule lunch date with Akaashi. It was nice to talk about other stuff other than volleyball. You loved the sport of course, but your life wasn’t centered around it like Kageyama had. And Akaashi understood that and had stories that didn’t involve the sport. It was a breath of fresh air.

When you heard that they’d be joining the Japanese Olympic team, you couldn’t help but feel even more excited. This would mean you get to spend more time with Akaashi and even bother Kuroo, who was the promoter, at the same time. It’d be a reunion! 

During their practice, you’d go with Tobio and then dismiss yourself in rush to catch up with Akaashi as he wished Bo good luck. You were smiling more and thinking less of how lonely you felt because you had best of both worlds. 

After coming home from practice, Kageyama took a quick shower while you settled by the window to read a book. When he walked out of the restroom, he stared at you. 

Kageyama noticed your shift. As much as he loved seeing your smile, something bothered him. You no longer sent messages throughout the day as he practiced, usually you send funny videos so he can watch during one of his breaks. You no longer tackled him in a hug whenever he came home, even if he was all sweaty. 

He felt guilty loving those habits, he knew you only did that because you missed him. He hated leaving you alone when practice started to get more serious. You always had a sad smile when he would wave goodbye. But now- 

He remembered Akaashi instantly when you brought him up. He used to look up to him as a setter in high school. He was friends with you way before you took an interest in Kageyama. But... was it possible that you had a crush on him? Did meeting up with him again spark up some old feelings?

Were you finally slipping through his fingers? Was he losing you because of his obsession with volleyball? You reassure him every now and then that it’s not something you’re scared of. You’d kiss him and explain how you understand that volleyball is untouchable and how loving you has nothing to do with it. 

He can’t let you slip... it’ll hurt. More than any physical injury. He wanted you to know that you’re untouchable too, that he can’t live with just having volleyball. He needed you too. But... if you wanted to leave... to be with someone who is always there... 

“You’re sulking, Tobio.” You point out without looking up from your book. He stayed by the doorway and turned his face away. He had been staring at you for quite some time now, it was like he was trying to get your attention without asking for it. 

“I am not,” he huffed and pouted. 

“Sure you are,” you said eyeing him, “what’s wrong?” 

He stayed quiet for a bit with his arms crossed over his chest. You smiled softly at his bothered state. It wasn’t often that he acted this way, all grumpy and quiet, but when he does you cant help but love every second of it. You learned to give him some time to respond or to find the right words to say. And he was still just wearing a towel over his waist with slight water droplets sliding off-

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Akaashi-kun.” Your eyes snapped back to the back of his head when he mumbled.

“Um, yeah I have...” you answered back a bit confused. You didn’t want to assume the direction of this conversation.

“It wasn’t a question,” he grumbled again. You lowered your book and gave him your full attention. 

“Well, it’s easy now-” he scoffed but you continued, “-with Bo being here and all.”

“Koutarou still talks to him?” 

You walked up to him and looked for any sign of ingenuity but found none. “Tobio, they live together.” 

“They’re roommates?” He asked even more confused and bothered. Why were you talking about their living arrangements?

“They live together just like how we live together, Tobio.” You said it with caution and softness but you had a smile that wanted to release your laughter. That’ll just anger him and distract him from the slow connection he’s making.

You instantly saw it in his eyes when he made that last connection, “Oh...” You kissed his slightly open lips to tease him and walked away. 

“Tobio, you play with Bokuto!” you call out.

“I don’t listen to their yapping!” You suddenly remember something from last week.

“We’re invited to their wedding!”

“What!” he exclaimed, “since when!?”

“Last week, Bo gave us their date and to look out for an invitation through the mail!”

He was more focused on how you were distancing yourself. He was focused on you, not his teammate’s rambling. 

“I didn’t know it was Akaashi he was marrying!” You laughed at his outbursts even more as he looked guilty. You didn’t want to bring up how he thought you were having an affair so maybe walking into the kitchen was your best chance. How could he be so oblivious and yet so observant over your slight change?

“Tobio,” you called out softly. He was sulking again but looked up at the command of your voice. He followed you and towered you as he looked down. He was beautiful. It warmed your heart. You touched his cheek and he rested right into your hand. 

Before you could make a comment he spoke quietly, “I’m not losing you, am I?” On instinct, your arms snaked around his neck pulling him down to hug you. You were never one to need reassurance, at least that’s what you liked to think. 

“I am yours, Tobio.” You answered, “I’ll always be yours.” 

“And I’m yours.” He hugged you back and lifted you up a bit trying to get closer as if it was possible. You were here and he was here... And Bokuto was marrying Akaashi. “Should I text Bokuto congratulations?”

[bokunosoul]

overhaul with a sibling who's a lot like yushiro from demon slayer? how would he react if they were attending ua behind his back? love that there's another demon slayer fan!

Overhaul reacts to brother reader that is like Yushiro from Demon slayer attending UA behind his back

TW : Human trafficking, mentions of blood

So lets set this scene, you are basically Overhaul's brother and you lived under his control you also have no freedom and has no idea what is the outside world is like.

One time you disobeyed you ended up being on the surgerical bed and all day long and he tortured you almost to d̶e̶a̶t̶h̶ he also injected a couple of illegal medicines on you.

You and eri are also in the same boat.He conducted many researches and experiments on both of your bodies and sells the drugs that he made on both of you in the black market.

You are also Eri's caretaker since the day she was brought in the yakuza - mansion.Yoy the one she can rely on the even in hardest times even though when she can't express her feelings well.

You actually also dont know about you and Eri's quirk that much.But your "so called" brother said that it is powerful and they both needed you on his league.

Days, weeks, months passed you had enough and decided to take along Eri with you to escape.You conducted a whole plan to escape.Thankfully your observant and know the basics on how to make an sleeping pill.

Every night your brother commands you to make him food smth like that.You, an pharmaceutical genius ended up drugging him without noticing.

T̶o̶o̶ b̶a̶d̶.He's too sharp.

You ended up running with Eri while Overhaul commands his team to capture you and the scared little girl.

The last thing you know is you and Eri getting surrounded by overhauls underlings.You started fighting back even without knowing what exactly how your quirk works.Blood and several broken bones is the consequences that you received.

Your in the verge of giving up, you were naive and weak as an 12 year old boy protecting an 3 year old girl.

Then suddenly you exploded blood and several human organs surrounded the whole shie-hassaikai base also the scared little girl's screamed echoed throught the base.

But why, why can you still feel your whole body even when your dead.The last thing you knew Eri was taken away and everyone was disposing of your blood and your body.

Your body ended up getting thrown to the river carelessly, your body that has been exploded piece by piece also ended up regenerating and ended up being normal again.You also don't feel pain.So you thought.This is my quirk huh?

A sigh of relief and hot blood comes rushing in through your veins as you ended up not being able to bring Eri along with you.

You did not cried at all.Crying is pointless and staying like this is also worthless.

The thing that first comes into mind is you going to turn yourself in to the child welfare services.You introduced yourself as an child sold by your family and you also introduced yourself with an fake name to hide your real identity.

You ended up being adopted by an family living in the city.You don't care at all as you long you can have revenge and save your sister and you will together escape this madness again.

You also go to know how to use your quirk well and uncover many secrets about it.

Your adoptive parents also started noticing on how quite your good at using your quirk so they ended up home schooling you.They were shocked you were such an intelligent obedient child they also treated you like their own.

You feel kinda safe,warm and comfortable at the same time.You also can't help to feel bad and burdened on how you abandoned Eri.Your living in heaven while she's experiencing hell.What a good brother you are you asked to yourself.

3 years passed you basically got into UA due to hardwork and determination You became also strong and your appearance drastically changed.

Meanwhile everyone UA aims to be number one and your goal is to save your sister from your pathethic brother.You also kept an low profile of yourself to hide your existence.

You actually ended up getting along with most of the class especially to Midoriya.You dont know why because he just gives the scent that you can trust him and he's a good person.

Also the girls in the class likes you because you respect them and also beat that little shit up by being a huge pervert.(if you know you know)

Time passes by and eventually their will be an upcomming event, the UA sports festival.Everyone in the class is excited meanwhile you are anxious, your identity will exposed and all your hardwork will go down the drain.

It does'nt matter,your much stronger and confident now.The sports festival came to an end and everyone gathered at the classroom for an sudden meeting. To be honest you did great on the event but you did not manage to get through the top 3 rankings.

You ended up getting an reccomendation to a hero agency.You accepted the reccomendation and it was basically for a month to get better and stronger.

Everything happened so fast, you ended up getting an reccomendation and accepting it and getting attacked by the villains.So UA decided to just make an dorm system to make sure that the students are safe at all times.

Aizawa announced that there will be an hero internship and you ended up getting back to the agency that trained you a few months ago.

Everyday is like usual you did multiple patrols, go to school to study and mostly can't sleep in the night.

You and so as the others like uraraka, tsuyu, midoriya, kirishima ended up being summoned at Nighteye's agency.

Their were many pro heroes as well your teacher, Aizawa is here.You can sense that the situation is quite serious and Midoriya and Mirio is acting weird and you can also sense fear in them.

Nighteye's sidekick bubble girl and centipeder explained that there is a villain on the loose.You lost your complexion, you felt sick and scared.All of your memories in hell projected throughout your head "Y/N - san are you okay? your complexion does'nt seem too good." tsuyu said in an concerned voice.

You replied, that your okay and you said that you've never ever seen something brutal.

As they've continue on nighteye mentioned that overhaul or also known as kai chisaki has an daughter.

You snapped and standed up while shaking " What seems to be your problem Mr.L/N?" nighteye said in his intimidating voice,everyone was staring at you like your crazy.

"I-i have something to confess." you said as your voice trembled

"And what is that?"

"My brother is Overhaul."

"Y/N - san you must be mistake----."

"NO! YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YOUR GETTING INTO, AND THE WORST CASE SCENARIO IF YOU GOT SHOT BY THOSE DRUG YOUR QUIRK WILL BE DESTROYED AND WORSE SOMEONE WILL DIE!" you yelled and everyone stared at you with disgusted faces and even in disbelief

"So your saying that your in hands with Overhaul or your so called brother?"

"No... I tried escaping with Eri but she was taken away and my body exploded in pieces and my body parts ended up being thrown carelessly through the river,thanks to my quirk i can basically regenerate and create an new identity.However i did not accomplished on taking her with me.AND DONT YOU DARE IMPLY MYSELF WITH THAT MANIPULATIVE PATHETHIC MAN DONT YOU KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE BEING TORTURED EVERYDAY?EVERYDAY IS HELL AND IF WE MAKE A MISTAKE ONE FLICK OF THAT BULLET YOUR BASICALLY AN DEADMAN WALKING!AND I HATE SEEING PEOPLE DIE IN HIS HANDS!" you yelled in frustration.

Your classmates, stared at you in disbelief you are the most calm and composed person in every situation but in this situation, they did not know that you we're in despair.

"S-sorry, with that said.He thinks that i'm dead but no and i'm not affiliated with him anymore, plus the last time we saw eachother is 3 years ago."

"So please, i beg you save my sister she's all i have." you said as you bowed to the ground showing pure respect.

Nighteye sighed and he said he saw that coming and commanded you to tell everything that he did to you amd Eri and about their Yakuza gang.He also said to keep an distance and do not fight in the infiltration of their base.He also said to Aizawa to protect you.You agreed, it's the least thing that you can do to help in this kind of situation.

The day comes and you were basically watched by Aizawa eyes wide open (Lmao i just remembered i cant stop me and cry for me #Once #Twice).

You ended up not taking it anymore and sneaking out of the UA teacher dorm without anyone noticing.

You have no problem in making it through the base but you have to fight multiple of villains tho.You ended up seeing the sight of the ruined base and seeing your brother and Mirio fighting over the little girl.

"OVERHAUL!" you yelled in your booming voice as you've appear in the darkness wearing your hero suit .

"R/N?ah, so your alive?" he said in disbelief .

"Yes?so?my dear pathethic brother also known as overhaul."

"Too bad i shot him already." he said as he pointed at Mirio's struggling limp body as Eri just covered herself with his scrapped cape.

You ended up fighting him one on one.You knew that he was strong and powerful and so are you.

The last thing you knew was going all out with your quirk and passing out to the ground and you were in the hospital getting treated by recovery girl.

A few hours later you received the news that everyone in the Yakuza got arrested but Overhaul got taken away by the league of villains,Mirio ended up getting shot by the quirk destroying drug and ended up loosing his quirk.

Lastly sir nighteye got killed due to the bad injury that he got whilst fighting him.On the good side Eri was taken custody of and is doing well in the hospital together with Mirio and Deku.

You sighed in contentment and walked in your hospital clothes in the hallway trying to find her hospital room.

Your heart started racing and you saw the letter engraved "ERI" you finally mustered up the courage into opening the door.You saw Deku and Mirio playing with her

"Y/N - chan your here!" Deku said enthusiatically.

The little girl hids on her sheets when she thought that you were a bad person along with Aizawa.Mirio said that it is okay and you two are their teacher and a school mate.

"Eri - chan do you remember me?" you said on your soft voice she immidiately remembers that familliar voice, her eyes widened and ended up throwing her arms onto your embrace crying.

"R/N!"

"You do remember me!Your okay now your safe,nii-san is here to protect you and will not leave you alone." you said sobbing while hugging the little girl she nodded and you two just stayed like there for a while.

Deku and Mirio : 🥺 (Lmao you to scootch along i'm her real brother🔪).

And finally the hospital visit is over and they allow you to visit her along with Deku and Mirio during weekends on the hospital.

You also apologized to Midoriya and Mirio for meddling the middle of the fight.Instead they thanked you and if you were not there they would've ended up dead.

A few weeks later she can finally get out of the hospital and ended up being in Aizawa's care in the teacher's dorm in UA.Since you trusted him you allowed him to take care of her.

You also take care of her when Aizawa is not around along with Deku and Mirio in the dorms.

The whole class is also shocked in how much your attitude and behavi reverses when Eri's around.They were like : 🧐,🤭,🥰,😍,🤩,😱 is that even possible HShsgsh.

You also learned how to cook and teach Eri how to read and learn you also play with her ofc.

You also became more confident, and a .Lmao the look on your face when bakugo called you an Tsundere.And you said in the most murderous voice ever "DIE." then Eri comes in like : 🙁🗿.

"I said i will DYE my hair later pink HAHAHHAHAH😃." you said jokingly.

Everyone was like : 👁️👄👁️ Meanwhile eri's just : yea im down with that face with a small nod and a smile***

Mina aswell as the others ended up taking the joke seriously and you ended up having a pink hair color the next day to school.

Monoma said that you looked pretty u̶g̶l̶y̶ he ended up getting beat up by kendo.(SHHSHSHEHE LMAO😂).

Shoto thinks it's cool HAHAHHAHA.

Eri said that she likes it and it looks nice to you.Iida and Aizawa lets you slide disobeying the school rules just this ONCE he just wants to see the little girl happy.

The reaction on your adoptive families face when you told them that you have a sister is priceless.They we're like : " i guess we need to adopt another one." S̶i̶k̶e̶.

Note : the gif is not mine a̶n̶d̶s̶o̶a̶r̶e̶y̶o̶u̶

💌 : OMGGG THANKS FOR REQUESTING AGAIN!✨Sorry it took too long hehehe anyways! i'm stoked to see that you also watch Demon slayer! it's really an good anime and i'm looking forward in the movie that will be released!the animation will be so sick😫✨💥.

ORIGINALLY by : bokunosoul