#and how she runs and shows up to save him its so obvious to anyone else that they love each other. even to them after a point

[crellanstein]

Did… did you forget she was trying to stop a hive mind from taking control of the whole world? And also stopping a foreign occupying force from aiding that magic hive mind and taking the city in the process?

It’s kind of myopic to see this only as ‘coming to their rescue’, everyone fighting against Viktor & Ambessa in this sequence is TRYING TO SAVE THE FUCKING WORLD.

Sevika & the rest of the underground are there too, are they also traitors to the cause?

There’s absolutely nothing in the show that implied Jinx would be on the enforcers side post-finale.

If she’s there to rescue anyone its Vi & Vander, her family; which time & time again is the thing she’s proven she’ll go to Extreme lengths for:

(Extreme Lengths that she rarely thinks all the way through consequence-wise, but extreme and indicative of her devotion none-the-less)

She made the monkey-bomb in an attempt to save Vander.

She blew up the council chamber to push forward Silco’s dream.

She broke into Still-Water to save Isha.

She risked her life fighting Warwick/Vander to save Isha & Sevika.

She went chasing after Vander/Warwick in the tunnels, despite the risk of him losing control and killing them all.

Also…

That kind of thinking is the problem with Silco’s, and by extension Jinx’s, philosphy toward Piltover. This idea that Zaun & Piltover can be separated & treated as such. That the class divide is all-powerful and insurmountable without war & secession.

Piltover & Zaun are THE SAME CITY. A horribly divided & fucked up city, but it’s two parts are inextricably bound together. They are reliant on each other in so many ways, and if you watch the show closely you’ll see that mutual reliance is at the heart of most of the conflict between them. Piltover needs the resources Zaun provides, Zaun needs the stability that Piltover provides.

Now, before I go any further, I must say that I am NOT on Piltovers SIDE, the upperclass of the Divided City either directly caused or allowed horrible things to happen to their working class, and that is just plain wrong. The Undercity never deserved such treatment and Piltover should have never allowed itself to grow so lax as to consider half the city they rule to be beneath their concern.

But it seems it wasn’t always like that. After all, the Kiramman’s seem to have built the ventilation system that handled the Gray. Ik Ik, Caitlyn abused that system and turned it into a weapon to further oppress the lower class, but it was originally intended for good.

And if you’re doubting that Zaun needs the stability Piltover provides, I have to tell you that it’s more abstract than what is easily seen.

Piltover, both before and after Hextech, is a large player in the global politics of this world, a position that the maintaining of which is no easy or obvious task. All we see in show is Noxxus applying pressure of this kind, but given their central location in their world and the prestige of a university that creates technological marvels, such pressure must come from all sides.

Given Zaun is primarily run by gangsters or smaller community leaders like Vander & Benzo. How well do you think they’d fare on a geopolitical stage? Not well unless they had say a university where they could attain higher education.

That’s why at the end of S2 it’s so important that Sevika has a council seat.

The war with the enforcers only further entrenches these divides, on both sides.

Not to be cheesy, but It took a common enemy for them to realize what they have in common. The city.

In Jayces alternative universe, Zaun falls with Piltover.

In Ekko’s?

Zaun & Piltover are lifted up together and that is where we see the best version of the city.

Not so much because of the lack of hextech, but rather what that lack created the opportunity for:

Community.

The way they sanitized and mellowed down Jinx's aggression towards enforcers until they have her come to their fucking rescue at the end of Season 2 is so fucking lame. We went from this:

Bombings, shootings, grisly killings, guts splayed, blood everywhere. Zero remorse. To this:

Lighthearted comedy, knocking unconscious, no deaths. Middle finger teehee, nothing too dark and serious anymore. And finally to this:

Coming to their rescue as part of her ~redemption~. "Character progression" my ass. This was whitewashing and character assassination because god forbid we have a single main character who opposes enforcers and topside.

[megumi-fm]

I saw your tags

I just finished the recent episode of my demon!! What the fuck

EVEN IF MY FEELINGS FOR YOU MAKE ME WEAK AND INSIGINGICAJT YOU ARE MY FATE THAT I CANNOT DEFY

ALASNSHSHSJS YEAH THE ENTIRE EPISODE WAS HIM SEEKING HER OUT AND FOLLWING HER AND THEM BEING AFFECTIONATE AND USING FLIMSY EXCUSES TO BE CLOSE TO EACH OTHER BUT THEN WHEN SHE STEPPED BACK HE REALIZED HE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS PRETENSE AND DENIAL AND JUST WENT FOR IT!!!!! AND SURE HE MIGHT BE GETTING WEAK AND MAYBE LOVING HER WILL MAKE HIM WEAKER BUT TO HIM IT FEELS LIKE THIS IS WHAT HE WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO DO. HE WAS MEANT TO LOVE HER AND BE BY HER SIDE AND PROTECT HER AND HE DOESN'T CARE WHAT THE COST OF IT IS. sure, it'll be a big price to pay (as we see in the preview for ep9), but it's the decision he has made OH GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

[therainscene]

I think I might have figured out what the Mind Flayer really is.

This theory has been percolating in my brain for a while now; it hasn't really finished baking yet but I wanted to get the gist of it down before The First Shadow debuts.

Let’s begin at the Hawkins National Lab, 6th November 1983. For the second time in her young life, El faces terrifying and deeply traumatic circumstances which cause her powers to lash out and rip a gash in the fabric of reality.

Meanwhile, across town, Will is doing what every queer 12 year-old has done and finds an excuse to spend an extra moment alone with his crush.

His little gay heart is as aflutter as the garage lights.

(Strange, that. The lights, I mean -- considering that he's on the other side of town from the lab. Do you suppose the Demogorgon trekked all the way to Mike's house and quietly followed him home again?)

Will heads home, lost in thought as he cycles past the lab. Is he thinking about how sweet his new X-Men #134 is gonna be? Or is he thinking about something even sweeter? The lights flutter again.

And something in front of him notices.

Will has always been noticeable: his clothes, his mannerisms, his interests -- they've always attracted the attentions of bullies. Now something new -- or maybe something that was always there and is only now making itself known -- has attracted the attentions of a monster.

He runs home, he calls for help, but he's alone, there's no escape. He races to the shed and loads a gun like his father taught him -- but it's not in his nature to be violent. He freezes, petrified.

The lights surge as his terror wrestles control of his powers and uses them to puncture an escape route in the fabric of reality.

Why were we so quick to believe that the Demogorgon -- a minion of the guy whose whole thing is his inability to open gates -- was able to open its own temporary portals in S1 and then never again?

Will could plausibly have been responsible for every temporary portal in S1: he’s at the Byers house when the Demogorgon pushes through its walls; he's on the run to Castle Byers when Nancy stumbles across that portal in the woods; and he's plugged in to one of Vecna's vines during the finale -- something we see Vecna plug himself into when he remotely opens gates in S4.

There’s one exception though.

Barb likely slipped through a gate in Steve's pool, but how could Will have opened that one when he was in his bedroom at the time, talking to his mother through the lights?

Let me ask you this: isn't it interesting that of all the injuries Barb could have obtained in her passage to the Upside Down, she got a nosebleed?

I think powers are more common than we’ve been led to believe, and gates are a last-ditch self-defense mechanism for anyone with powers.

This is why the four curse victims’ deaths opened a gate: Vecna pushed them to their breaking point to artificially trigger the self-defense response. Those headaches and nosebleeds weren't caused by Vecna directly, but by their own powers acting up as they inched towards oblivion.

[Shoutout to @givehimthemedicine's underrated powers and blood theory for the idea of Vecna's Curse being the overcharging of his victims' own powers.]

It was already pretty obvious that Vecna's Curse is a metaphor for suicide, and this theory reinforces it: every kid who gets targeted by the horrors of Hawkins for being "different" tries to find some way to escape.

Willel's misfortune is that their powers are considerably more easily manifested than the average person's. Byler tells the story of visible vs invisible queerness, but that's just a reflection of the larger theme at play in the show: the visible and invisible ways kids are othered and abused.

Max's trauma was a quiet thing that came from within and festered until it was almost too late to save her... but Willel's trauma manifests as a giant monster that openly hunts them down.

And I'm being literal when I say the Mind Flayer is a manifestation of their trauma.

We know that Vecna fashioned the Mind Flayer from a cloud of black particles he found in the Upside Down, but where did that cloud come from? The Upside Down is a mysterious enough place that it's easy to assume the Shadow is native to that realm... but what if it isn't?

The Mind Flayer is heavily associated with repression -- Will gradually lost his memories while he was possessed, and El lost her powers when the sliver of Flesh Flayer wormed its way into her leg.

But Will has mysteriously been without powers ever since leaving the Upside Down, and we've seen El lose memories too: her memories of surviving the lab massacre, in which she didn't simply escape by opening up a gate, but by disintegrating her attacker into black particles.

The Mind Flayer doesn't cause repression -- it is repression.

There must have been countless generations worth of traumatized children who took the extra step El did and sent their abusers -- or at least their memories of abuse -- into that hidden realm beyond the gate.

(There's also the possibility that Mr. Time-is-Just-a-Social-Construct is stuck in a time loop of some sort -- maybe the massacre has repeated hundreds of times, and Dimension X is a timeless graveyard of El's attempts to repress her trauma. This would explain why Henry seems to have both disintegrated and survived: we were watching at least two different iterations of the massacre all along.)

Whichever way you slice it, it's a perfect fit: the tool Vecna uses to perpetuate the cycle of abuse isn't some bizarro alien from an alternate dimension, but a direct consequence of the cycle itself.

The Mind Flayer tells us that escape alone doesn't work as a long-term solution: it might help you survive the initial abuse, but if you don't address the effect it had on you...

...it will come back to wreck havok.

[Edit: Click here for post-TFS thoughts on this theory]

[the-s1lly-corner]

Leaving lipstick marks on various HH characters 1/2

my body aches so much, wanting to workout so i can carry my potted plants better aside i need to get more active as a general thing- i am not beating the weak bodied nerd stereotype might not instantly write the other parts for this- idk if theyre asked for ill definitely do it but i might save the other parts for later adding vox to this part since i dont really feel like making this a 3 parter like usual- if anyone wants this for cherri or carmilla ill do it but shrugs characters: charlie, vaggie, angel dust, pentious, husk, vox notes: reader is GN asides for vaggie (fem reader) and for angel (male reader), reader wears makeup CWs: suggestive for angels part though thats to be expected, nothing explicit happens, vox gets a little freaky too but nothing is explicit

CHARLIE

looooooves the idea and youre both likely to be left covered in marks.... its actually really sweet because it shows how into each other you both are

thinks the entire thing is nice and will do it to you whenever she gets the chance, you returning the favor has her over the moon

lots of giggling from her, and perhaps from you as well as you completely cover her face

tries not to squirm and move around and for the most part she succeeds in that regard

a little sad that she needs to clean up before running into anyone else, if she could she would have them on for much longer

VAGGIE

she wont stop you from peppering her in kisses however she would prefer kisses that dont leave marks behind

she doesnt exactly hate it but the cleanup can get a little.. hmm..

though you can easily just not wear makeup when you come to kiss her- problem solved!

likes keeping PDA to a minimum, thats kind of where the dislike of the marks come from since it makes it very obvious what happened to anyone who sees her while shes stepping out of the room to go clean up

not at all ashamed of your relationship shes just a more private person when it comes to romance! nothing wrong with that

ANGEL DUST

you might be covered in marks before you even have the chance to leave one on him, hes just way too fast and the additional arms just makes it easier for him to keep you at bay

will let you leave some marks on him as a pity thing, although its lighthearted

has the chance to turn into something steamier if you express the desire to go further although he wont force it if youre not interested

hes a little furry so sometimes he has to put in a little work to get your makeup off but thats not going to turn him off from getting kisses from you

has flavored glosses and such, willing to share as well as let you know where he gets it from... likes the surprise of guessing what flavor youre going to have

SIR PENTIOUS

kind of freezes up when you start kissing all over his face, most of the movement he gives you is his hood fanning up in surprise as he stares at you with wide eyes

his reaction- or lack thereof- becomes less intense as you introduce more affection like that into the relationship... dont let this thing he doesnt like it! hes just a little stunned is all... best to start slow and with communication for the best results!

grows to love it, will wrap his tail around you while you pepper all over his face... might wrap his arms around you for added closeness

happy hissing and rattling noises, the kissing session is likely to turn into a cuddling session.... hes already holding you afterall!

completely melts into your hands if you decide to cup his face

HUSK

unless there was some build up and conversation to it hes not very interested in this sort of thing- he doesnt like spontaneous affection a lot of the time...

on the occasion he is comfortable with you completely showering him in affection, he demands that you dont wear lipstick when kissing him

he doesnt like having to work the makeup out of his fur, i already hc that he struggles with self care in general so adding onto it doesnt work well with him

prefers nuzzles and cuddling over getting his face peppered with kisses

very similar to vaggie hes more private in the context of romance so the lipstick thing making it clear that something happened comes into play with husk as well

VOX

kissing a TV screen is a little odd... feeling wise.. go on.. kiss your screen right now and tell me it doesnt. on top of that vox is a little cool to the touch most of the time, and hes got a dull buzzing feel to him

looooooooves the act of getting kissed all over but hates the clean up afterwards, sometimes the lipstick just gets smeared around

but in the moment? hes on cloud 9, in his eyes youre basically throwing yourself at him and its got him feeling some type of way

sometimes it develops into something more if youre down with it, he doesnt really care when or where you guys currently are.. he gets rather impatient

will kiss back- and hard- if you slow down for even a second

[hugintheraven]

The Undersiders and their Overwatch mains

(This will use OW1's 2/2/2 comp because that's what makes sense and will ignore any chars introduced after the point where that ceased to be relevant) (Obviously this team is initially sponsored by Thomas Calvert/Coil).

Grue: Reinhardt. He protects others, he likes how tactical Rein vs Rein can be, he's big and hits stuff, but it's not overly complicated or focused on accuracy. Brian can and does learn the other main tanks, and later on his Sigma is disgusting, but he was really happiest when it was just him and a shield trying to out-time some other guy with a shield, with the entire team on the line if either screwed up.

Hellhound: Off-Tanks. She doesn't have a main, preferring to pick a char depending on the situation(even going Mei/Brig/Winston if off-tanks are bad in the current patch), but "get in front of the enemy, get hit, hit back harder" are general themes. Was accused of cheating a few times because she runs a custom HUD mod that replaces all text with icons and all numbers with partially-filled bars; this was EVENTUALLY ruled to be assistive mode similar to colorblind mode and officially patched into the game, but she still receives online hate for it regularly(as she doesn't read and exclusively uses social media to post and look at pictures of puppies, she is able to ignore this, giving her the single healthiest relationship with social media possible for a streamer.)

Imp: Offensive flankers. She has a Sombra icon on most social media, has cosplayed as her, and many people call her a Sombra main, but Brian got the game because Aisha saw Tracer in the early advertisements and went "I want that". She does not consider it a win if her team wins. She considers it a win if the opposing team's Mercy or Widowmaker DCs, and will play any char that can accomplish that.

Skitter: Widowmaker, other snipers. Officially flex DPS, any time the Undersiders need someone to play an unusual hero in a new broken team comp, Taylor can pick them up quickly and well, but she's at her best clicking on heads and 180ing to take out Genjis and Sombras who thought no one had seen them coming up behind. Taylor is just very very good at noticing who's absent from the battle and knowing which route is easiest for them to take to get behind the team. Was laddering as Mercy/Ana with Emma's group of friends when she got scouted by Lisa. When solo-queueing she will literally play anyone to keep from getting bored.

Tattletale: Main support, heavily Ana. Shotcaller for the team, good at knowing who's high and who's low on health. Tends to tunnel vision on the fight and get taken out by flankers, but so good at keeping everyone else alive and getting her grenade onto key targets that it doesn't matter much. Lost a 1vs1 as Lucio to Taylor's Battle Mercy and sent her a friend request immediately.

Regent: Zenyatta, maybe Lucio if he's in a good mood or Brian asks nicely. Because:

The Heartbreakers are Canada's premier esports team, coached by former competitive Half-Life 1 player/asshole, Nikos Vasil. Several of his kids have shown up amongst its roster. People complain about nepotism, but the kids are actually mostly very good. Hijack and Cherish were standouts in the early days of Overwatch, with his Hanzo and her Genji working extremely well together, even if they hated everything about it. He eventually ran away and deleted all accounts, but his savings ran out and his attitude was not well-suited for a real job. So he went back to streaming with stolen wifi and his old gaming laptop. After all, if he didn't play Hanzo, no one would notice, right? Lisa spotted him in under a week and promised cash if he'd try out. His rule: No DPS. So now he's their secondary support, with a Zen that out-damages most Soldiers when he tries and at least keeps his healing orb out when he doesn't, and Alec shows up to competitions/conventions in a mask.

Other people:

Glory Girl is an obvious Pharah main, and Pancea learned to play by picking Mercy and jamming her staff directly up Pharah's butt. Amy ends up with more hours logged on AO3 than actual Overwatch despite eventually becoming extremely good as a support player/shotcaller(after leaving New Wave).

Cherish also leaves the Heartbreakers and gets picked up by Slaughterhouse, an extremely aggressive team coached by also-asshole Jacob Black(Jack / ). They peaked during dive comp. She continues to play Genji, and is still miserable.

Scion is Bobby Kotick.

[hughjidiot]

Total Drama Island Reboot Season Two: Episodes 2, 3 and 4

Okay wow, was not expecting three new episodes at once. Again I am baffled by both the local and international release schedules. But I'm continuing to watch and enjoy this reboot, here are my rough impressions of all the characters in all three episodes. Spoilers below the cut, obviously.

Chase is out second. Pretty obvious boot with how he behaved in the challenge, but that's just how TDI is sometimes. Glad he went early if I'm being honest since his whole subplot with Emma had run its course and there wasn't much more to get out of Chase. Speaking of which though...

Emma was out fourth, which kind of surprised me. I thought she might get an arc of finally forgetting about Chase and moving on, but then she goes and gets eliminated. Maybe they're saving an Emma arc for if gen 4 gets a third season? Who knows. A little disappointing but not a huge loss.

And between them, Millie is out third. Not surprising if I'm being honest; Millie had a chance to train up to be a stronger player with Priya's help, but neglected to actually study for it. And then in episode 2 when she tries to think creatively to help her team win, her lack of social skills is what did her in when she failed to consider how pissed her team would be for tricking Damien down the most dangerous slide. Her elimination feels like a natural consequence of her own actions and shortcomings instead of the contrived coincidences that Total Drama was guilty of many times in past seasons.

Then there's Damien himself. So far he still hasn't done a whole lot, but he's definitely shown to have become more self-confident with the way he called out Millie and how he was willing to brave that rickety bridge in episode 3. Time will tell if he makes it far.

Zee continues to be hilarious. Not really having much of an impact in terms of plotlines with other characters, but he always gets a laugh out of me. "Not thinking is my specialty!"

Gotta say, I thought Priya would have at least shown a little more of a reaction to her bestie being voted off. Still her plotline with Caleb is interesting. I can picture this leading to drama down the road where she realizes Caleb has just been trying to build an alliance rather than flirt with her. Or who knows, maybe Caleb will develop genuine feelings for her and it becomes a ship. Could go either way.

Speaking of Caleb, he represents the biggest difference between the writing of the reboot and previous seasons. Not once does the show portray him as antagonistic in trying to manipulate Priya into an alliance; he's just trying to form a strong partnership to make it farther in the game. Helps immensely that Caleb isn't actively cruel like Heather and Alejandro; he's genuinely chill despite his determination. Him literally carrying most of his team in episode 3 was awesome, not gonna lie.

Nichelle continues to dominate and be awesome in challenges. However I can't help but notice she's not really trying to get close to anyone, like Caleb is with Priya for example. I have a feeling that could come back to bite her if people vote her off for being a potential threat ala Caleb in season one.

I'm loving Axel so far. She's much better about being a team player but also hasn't lost her edge. I also like how we're getting depth to her, like her love of poetry. And then there's her romance with Ripper which I did not see coming. More on that later.

Holy shit, I was hoping for more of the MK/Julia alliance, but I wasn't expecting this much! I'm loving MK's unorthodox strategy of disguising as an intern to get inside information, it's very unique.

Oh and MKulia might become a thing. "Oh stop it, you'll make me blush!" "If MK's brain drove a cool car, I would totally date it." Watching these episodes I was like Wait are they gonna go there? Oh my god they might actually go there! And if they do, I am here for it!

Wayne and Raj continue to be very wholesome and hilarious! I love the dynamic they bring to Team Skunk Butt, wanting to play fair while Julia and MK cheat. And stuck in the middle...

is Bowie. I'm loving the drama of his character arc: he's still willing to pull the same underhanded tactics he used in season one and is all in on MK's strategy, but now has Wayne and especially Raj are acting as his morality pets. Some are predicting this could lead to a Rajbow break up, but I honestly don't think they'd do that. What I think will happen is Team Skunk Butt loses a challenge despite MKulia cheating again with Bowie's knowledge, Bowie feels terrible, and to make it up he offers to eliminate himself if one of the Hocky Bros is about to be voted off.

Last but not least, Ripper. Gonna be honest, he was my least favorite of gen 4 in season one; I didn't care for his focus on gross-out humor and he survived eliminations over characters I liked more. I didn't expect much from him going into season two so I was blindsided here. Not only is his gross out humor significantly toned down (but still present) but he proved to be quite endearing with his insecurity over his crush on Axel. I was especially stunned in episode four when he actually tried to connect with Axel's interest in poetry and actually wrote a poem for her, something I could never see season 1 Ripper doing. And Axel reciprocating with a kiss despite not seeming interested in him earlier? My haw hit the floor. Before I was hoping he'd be an early boot, but now I find myself actually wanting to see Ripper stick around and see where things go with him as a character and his potential relationship with Axel. I... actually like Ripper now, which is a sentence I never thought I'd say.

A few minor issues aside, I am loving this new season so far. I haven't genuinely enjoyed Total Drama since the original TDI 15 years ago.

[scoobydoodean]

i mean in a show where someone gets killed nearly every episode, most of those people dying by the main characters’ hands, who “deserves” death and who doesn’t and who gets to decide that is always blurry. and is never addressed directly in the show, as that would question the authority of the main characters, which makes these discussions always a bit of a slope. i do agree that those people amy killed probably weren’t. the best picked to die. like she would probably be powerful enough to take on more “deserving” targets. but then again who gets to decide that etc. just to clarify, i’m not trying to disagree with you, i just always like to bring thoughts to the table and see what everyone else thinks. the girl next door certainly is an episode !

About Amy picking more "deserving" targets:

I don't think Amy actually cared all that much how "bad" the targets were tbh. I don't think she spent time evaluating and researching each victim through a Dexter-esque kill code before murdering them. She had no time for that—her son was actively dying, and if she wanted to save him, she had to kill quickly. She was still stalking and killing while Sam was actively hunting her because the situation was that urgent and dire. No—what Amy did is pick conveniently and opportunistically. She picked people who happened to be out at night, alone, whose deaths the police would have little interest in prioritizing. Her goal was never to act out vigilante justice—taking an extremely short amount of time to notice that someone was a petty criminal just helped assuage some of her guilt about it.

For the rest of it, let me give you three situations:

My child is being stalked by a serial killer. The killer comes to my house with the intention of killing my child. I kill that serial killer.

There is no enforcement of law where I live. Murderers run amok, able to stalk, murder, and even eat their victims and no one does anything about it. I decide to act as a vigilante to defend the victims of these killers from stalking, killing, and eating them by killing the people who I know are stalking, killing, and eating them.

I have a child who is dying and requires a heart transplant in order to survive, and I know that my child will not survive long enough to receive an organ donation on a very long waitlist. However, there are plenty of people around me who have working hearts, so I hunt down one of them and kill them and arrange to have their heart transplanted into my child.

These three scenarios become increasingly morally grey from one to the next (in fact, I have absolutely zero issue at all whatsoever with the first, and in its specific context, not much issue with the second), but the third is very very different from the first and second, is it not? And to me, a very obvious example of something that is evil.

Whether the target I pick in the third scenario is a person who’s never even jaywalked before or whether it's Tim who lives down the street who I knows deals drugs, or hell—even if it's a dude on death row—doesn't change the fact that the only one trying to and succeeding at trying to kill anyone at the end of the day is just me; that nobody threatened or wronged my child; that nobody was trying to steal their life. In this third scenario, there is no evil figure I am fighting directly against. I steal people's lives and essence in order to keep my child alive out of nothing more than selfishness.

While I agree it's easy to get into the weeds of vigilante justice, we shouldn't, because that isn't even what Amy was doing. She is not #2—she's #3. What she did versus what Sam and Dean do as a job (#2) are ultimately very different things in terms of the motives and circumstances involved, the victims, and the aggressors.

In the end, the whole discussion started with me bringing up a specific line, where Sam says that he and Dean would both murder strangers in order to feed their insides to a loved one just to keep that loved one alive, which is very very different from what they do on a regular basis in terms of circumstances and motives, regardless of if we're talking people who "deserve" to die or people who don't.

[lykosog]

ROBB'S SURVIVED RED WEDDING VERSE

RED WEDDING — This is one of the aspects where I take some influence from the show since it's a tragic event and I want to use the saddest version of it. Unless otherwise plotted, Jeyne Westerling ( who manages to convince Robb in her third and last try to take her with him ) ends ups dying there.

That's the only difference, the rest has happened just like in the books. So no, there's no pregnancy since Jeyne was drinking moon tea unknowingly and since I absolutely and completely ignore Talisa's storyline from the show.

SCAPE — A group of still sober men realize of the Freys betrayal and immediately grab some weapons. After fighting their way through to Grey Wind's cage, they free the direwolf and it wasted no second in running to Robb's side. It's entrance in the hall creates such chaos ( since the beast attacked and killed anyone who dared get in it's way or close to Robb ) that those men are able to reach their unconscious king and get him to a safe place.

RECOVERING — No matter that Robb lived, his condition is terrible due to the three arrow wounds he received at the Red wedding . So the men who saved him had to look for a place where they could treat him. Eventually, they come across the castle of a small riverlord still loyal to the Tullys and the Starks, who lets them in and does everything in his power to help them.

NIGHTMARES — They start once the physical pain has gone away, as if to continue reminding Robb of what occurred and that he is to blame for all of it. The most recurrent one is that where he is caught by the Freys, he gets beheaded and then see, as if he were another person, his body with Grey Wind's head. A premonition since that's the story he then hears his enemies have been spreading so everyone believes he is dead?

TRAVEL — Robb and the men who saved him disguise themselves as a group of merchants. Their faces are not known, so they can talk to people without the fear of being recognized. Robb however, for obvious reasons, always keeps his hidden and does everything he can to not drag attention to himself.

Note: taking into consideration the time he would spend recovering and then traveling North, my bet is that he reaches it once his family has already taken Winterfell back. If not, Robb will use his disguise to go to northern lords' castles and spend time with them to see if they can still be trusted and he can get their support to do it himself.

GREY WIND — Robb understands why his direwolf reacted the way it did back at the Twins and finally realizes just how wrong he had been in not trusting or listening to its signs. That strengthens their bond once more since Robb is not willing to repeat his mistake and now it never leaves his side.

FAMILY — For a very long time he has the same information about them that he did at the time of his presumed death with the only exception of Catelyn who Robb will hear also died almost right away after his health improves.

Unless otherwise plotted, since she seemed to not care about what happened to her and only wanted to protect her son, my take is that she contributes to the chaos Grey Wind creates by making her canon threat in order to make it harder for the Freys to go after both of them. Eventually realizing he had lost his opportunity to follow Robb, Walder decides to take his vengace on her at least.

[might-forget-this-blagg-exists]

There's this scene in the Sin harem fanfic where Sin, Ram and El are trying to find an enemy gear that is hiding in a pool. They know someone was in there because Elphelt was swimming earlier and she felt someone grab her leg. In order to catch the gear, they stay behind at school without telling anyone, and go to the pool to see if the monster is still there. They can't see a monster, so they decide that Elphelt should go swimming in the pool again and see if her leg gets grabbed. Her leg gets grabbed again, and in order to defeat the monster Sin runs electricity through the water, electrocuting both Elphelt and the enemy gear. This is framed as brilliant quick thinking that saved the day, by Sol, who shows up after Elphelt got electrocuted. He cleans up the mess and tells the kids that they did great today, and they go home without so much as a slap on the wrist, except for Elphelt who got electrocuted.

I hate this scene so much, and I especially hate the framing of it. Not only was it was a braindead plan that put Elphelt in physical danger and pain twice, the text goes out of its way to acknowledge the danger of both of these instances by having El be reluctant to get in the water, and then having Sin be reluctant to electrocute her. On top of that, the electrocution didn't even beat the monster, Sol had to come over and finish it off (he's like, training them to fight, it's a whole thing). He literally congratulates Sin for his smart thinking when he should have been shoving him into the water for being too dim-witted to catch a guppy.

Literally it's even more infuriating when it's so obvious how the scene just writes itself. You ever see a video of an octopus or cuttlefish trying to blend in? It's near perfect when it's underwater coral and rocks and kelp debris, but when you put them on a flat and artificial surface LIKE THE BOTTOM OF A POOL the roundness of their bodies makes perfect camouflage impossible. It would be hard to tell what's going on in P.E. class, when the water is disturbed, but after hours it would only take a good look at the still water to realise that the pool tiles are looking weirdly bulged out in the shape of a fish man trying to hide that he's been eating highschoolers.

Easiest rewrite ever: Right after Elphelt's ankle gets grabbed during class, the trio tells Sol about it. Sol tells the trio to meet him after class at a certain time, and for the safety of the human students, immediately calls off pool exercises for the rest of the day. Afterwards, when the teacher and students are alone, Sol lets the three try to defeat the gear as like a pop quiz or something, or maybe Sin asks to try and prove himself idk. Either way, they are tasked with finding and subduing the gear, which would be an easy lesson about how some gears have camouflaging powers and using their tools and the environment to their advantage. Maybe, like, Elphelt wants to start slinging bullets, but then Sol threatens the cost of repairs, and then maybe Ram brings up how they learned about water conductivity in science class. THEN Sin can bring out his lightning, and maybe that just makes the gear angry instead of defeating it, so there can be a more drawn out fight scene. BUT LIKE!!! What if the electrocution is enough and that's just the end of the fight, and the point of the lesson was that stopping to think clearly can avoid a lot of headache and needless risk by avoiding a noisy destructive battle that would have left a lot of evidence behind.

I just. How is this not obvious? Genuinely how. There's a better story RIGHT THERE IT IS IN YOUR HANDS HOW DID YOU BOTCH IT LIKE THIS HOWWWWWW

[vanilladaises-rp]

(Luna! Im glad to see you’re still here. I haven’t been by in forever and I have no idea if we’ve done this before. Maybe? No? Perfect time then! I’m Brook, 22 and if it’s ok I’d like to send a starter with Wonho)

Brook leaned against the counter in the cafe she worked. It was unusually cold today and it started to rain which made the girl doubt they would have any customers until a tiny jingle of the bell above the door chimed.

She looked up to see a very handsome man in a suit walk in to dodge the rain. While the cashier took his order, Brook stood with a cup and pen in hand very interested in everything he had to say… even if it was just to order something to keep warm.

“What’s your name?” She asked in a breathy, almost dream like voice. The pen almost fell to the floor when her coworker nudged her ribs and she realized how odd she was acting. “F-for the c-cup!” She tried to save face. “Yeah. Cup. So I know who it’s for.” She smiled shyly and looked around.

‘Smooth. He’s the only one here’ she chuckled to herself

♊️

The man wasn't planning on having such a late night coffee run, but he had to blend in somehow without being noticed by his rivalry. Before entering, Wonho was previously being chased by a few men that were apart of an enemy gang. They had previous stolen from him and immediately cut all ties, and although it was not like Wonho to run off, they caught him in a more family oriented part of town, so he wasn't gonna risk anyone getting harmed.

Instead he had one of his executives call the police report of group of thugs disturbing the neighborhood which resulted in the men making fools out of themselves for being out in the open with their weapons. And even if there was the slightest chance they'd find him before the cops showed up, Wonho had entered this cozy pastel cafe, making it the least obvious place to look for a mafia boss.

Once he had heard the men yell in frustration while gettng arrrested, Wonho chuckled and their lame attempt and moved on. When he walked up to the counter, the man dressed in all black noticed the slight dreamy like expression on your face, chuckling on the inside at how you voice matched it, "Wonho" He said simply, turning both ways noticing the cafe was empty, "Didn't realize there were so many Wonho's tonight" He teased lightly.

(Hi luv! So happy to see you back ahh! Im not sure, we may have started but its okay, I don't mind a fresh start. Hope u are doing well! 🫶🏻)

[fancyfade]

How would you describe Barbara's personality?

DISCLAIMER: as for all my babs posts, this applies exclusively to pre magicuring babs

short version: the title her channel has on the batfam discord im part of :P

(name was voted on by babs fans :P)

but anyway longer version:

babs is a character who is fiercely independent and doesn't really like being reliant on other people... physically or emotionally. she keeps people at arms length. she has a lot of what i view as bruce's unhealthy traits (feels personally responsible for everything, doesn't like letting people in, workaholic) a difference is i think she's slightly better at recognizing this and correcting it :P (Including when she treats other people unfairly -- she recognizes that she got over protective of Dinah after she got captured and injured and she wouldve HATED if anyone did that to her)

she also, despite being somewhat distant, is a character who very much believes in change. like thats part of the point of BoP and later on we see her try to change helena (against her will ;_;) and savant so savant is not a supervillain anymore and is also very much a mentoring people who are down on their luck kind of person (link) and she kind of wants to be the person for other people that some others* were for her. and she is SO involved in the superhero community it is obvious that connections are very important to her and she wants to be there for everyone even if she rarely will let people be there for her

she can also tend towards hypocritical sometimes :P Some of this is probably due to changing in writers but its a fun character trait to play with (and some times it is in text intentionally, like when she treats dinah in a way she would not like to be treated). but in suicide squad we see her debating luring carmichael into a trap to kill him (in her defense: he is totally trying to kill her) and later on we see her being OK with taking a life in self defense (she prepares to shoot someone in NML to save one of her operatives but helena as batgirl shows up so she doesnt need to, and she gives helena the go ahead to kill people if she needs to to rescue tim in jokers last laugh)... which makes it kind of amusing/frustrating that she beefs so much with helena which i think was partially due to the writers wanting everyone to exclude helena in batfam and partially due to good old fashioned misogyny on part of dixon (b/c dick had a one night stand with helena in one comic, so obviously babs has to hate helena in another and then other writers cant drop it b/c they cant imagine female characters as having relationships outside of men. though most of those writers were... male writers. act surprised)

this is what inspired the channel name (in that she recognizes traits she has in others but doesnt like it :P)

anyway time for some virtues: babs is extremely self assured and like… almost NEVER comes across as insecure or if she is insecure she reacts in a way that is more like covering it up by acting as ifs he has no doubts, which I like. frequently, when she is in distress, she is the person who rescues herself or at least contributes to her rescue (yes even as a disabled woman. act shocked, ableists). and despite the hard time she can have getting along with people and the many mistakes she makes, she also never stops trying and always learns from her own mistakes.

her self care in BoP reads like making sure other people are taking care of themselves XD (getting helena a teaching job, helping dinah get a flower shop, them getting civilian lives and she's just... still there, still without much of a civilian life). though this works with like. how little she seems to like other people taking care of her.

She reads as kind of autistic to me NGL

I am running out of things to say or more of i am worried i am repeating myself.

*but not batfam members

[museincarnate]

Approximately three to four days later...

The Mighty Saiyan had found a relatively convenient area to use as a training grounds, for himself, his daughter and the Luparian, though something more spacious and durable would have been preferred; the power that the trio possessed proving capable of decimating landscapes, if they weren't too careful. A few days was all that Torno allowed himself, as well as the rest of the group, to have for any sort of rest and mental preparation, before he'd told both Hakkona and Tazz to meet with him at the aforementioned training site.

In the days leading up to the start of their training, Hakkona had still not spoken a word to anyone, as her wardrobe gained several dark hoodies, as well as baggy shirts and sweatpants; her more colorful, form-fitting clothes practically drowned in larger wear, as if to signify a loss of her self-confidence. At the very least, however, the Buff Gal would show up to train in a pair of black joggers, and a matching sports bra, as was par for her regular choice of tops; her physical appearance, otherwise, remaining just as muscular, while the reminder of Ghost's assault was covered by a choker that just barely hid most of the burned-in handprint. While attire certainly wasn't important, it was a departure from how the Saiyaness presented herself, before.

When Tazz had arrived, Torno made no effort to set any sort of goal for the first training session, as he immediately took up a fighting stance; his gaze fixated on his offspring, likely as he'd done countless times before, when they'd train together. The Royal Commander was wholly aware of Tazz's own pacifism, and didn't seek to put her on the spot, but... Instead of greeting the Mighty Saiyan with a fighting stance of her own, Hakkona's gaze shifted to the dirt beneath her feet, as her posture stiffened. If either the Luparian or the Buff Gal's father would notice, even, the Saiyaness was lightly trembling, as if fighting her father, or facing him was something almost panic-inducing.

"If you're expecting an out from this, Hakkona, you won't receive one." Calloused, despite how loving of a father he was to his daughter, otherwise, Torno's words cut straight to the point; a hint of impatience lacing itself into every word that left his lips. "You haven't tried to get out of training since you were a child, and that's not about to change, now."

Hakkona, all the while, could only slightly raise her head, and shift her oculars towards Tazz, as if to ask for help; the Buff Gal's discomfort becoming more obvious, as a slight pout in her lips simultaneously came with a hesitant gaze towards the Mighty Saiyan she'd idolized for her entire life. She knew that her father was steadfast in his ideations, and even that he was right, but... All of that was before the Scorched Saiyan had shattered her self-worth, and left her scarred in every way that he did.

Torno's daughter's gaze towards the Luparian would, thereafter, be met with a harsher tone than before, from Hakkona's father. "Take. Up. Your. Stance. Tazz won't be saving you from what's necessary, so enough with this sudden complacency!" A particular word, just then, had escaped the Royal Commander, even if he was unaware of its significance to his offspring; his posture and muscles poised to take off towards the Buff Gal, if she didn't readily defend herself within the next few seconds.

The Saiyaness nearly wished to withdraw into herself, and hide from the more stern side of her father, as his words rained down on her like some sort of downpour. No matter how much she didn't want to admit it, even to herself, Hakkona knew that she was terrified of something to do with her prolific parent; shoving the thought aside with each moment, until a particular word nearly made her blood run cold...

Complacency?

The very word, itself, caused the image of her previous attacker to flash into her mind, as the very same word was spoken in his voice, and not Torno's own; a concoction of familiar feelings welling up inside the Saiyaness, as her eyes snapped to meet the Royal Commander's own. A snarl would etch itself onto Hakkona's visage, as a stance was immediately taken thereafter; the briefest of glimpses of her fighting stance being made visible, before she took off at breakneck speeds to quickly close the distance gap between herself and Torno!

The Buff Gal would immediately throw a right hook at her predecessor's cheekbone, after allowing her emotions to get the better of her; an unintentional surge in motivation and purpose driving Hakkona to oblige her father in what they'd done countless times before. For all her efforts, her change in demeanor would take the Mighty Saiyan off-guard for just a second, and likely brought her closer to landing the punch on her father!

And yet... It was all for naught, as the smallest ounce of hesitation granted Torno enough time to react, and juke his head back just enough to avoid being in the trajectory of such a hellacious, sudden attack. Just as Torno was evading his daughter's right hook, however, he would launch a left haymaker of his own, and easily countered his progeny's attempt at offense; gauging his strength to a spar-friendly level, at least to their standards, which still caused Hakkona to stagger sideways after the blow, and forced her head to tilt towards the Luparian pacifist.

The training had begun, and one could only imagine what was in store for Tazz and Hakkona, when paired with such a harsh mentor!

In the event that Hakkona could've lashed out against the Little Rabbit, an exchange of glances between the redheads and the Luparian conveyed a similar train of thought; the baby carrier in Yujin's possession eliminating him from making that hypothetical save on Tater's behalf, considering that he and Hakkona wouldn't want to put their daughter in harm's way. In any event, Shuen kept himself as loose and alert as possible, once Tater had worked her way over to the Buff Gal.

With his oculars fixated on the Lagomorph and his offspring, Torno's peripheral vision would catch Tazz's outstretched hand, as her offering was met with a slow reach for the handkerchief; an initial hum of acknowledgement coming as his primary response, before the Luparian offered Tater's aid to the Mighty Saiyan. Without shifting his gaze in the slightest, he used the handkerchief to wipe some of the blood from his forehead, and chose to address the offer of help, thereafter. "It will heal on its own. Hakkona's wellbeing is more important."

Before the Saiyaness revealed her injury to the rest of the group, Tater's soft gaze and breathing exercises would, to some small degree, allow Hakkona to ground herself enough to control her breathing, in spite of the pain that was coursing through her with each passing moment; several signs of not wanting to be touched remaining obvious in her body language, but lessening as the Buff Gal was able to follow the Little Rabbit's breathing patterns.

Hakkona's gaze would still shift away from her friends and family, once she revealed the extent of her injury to everyone, but even their reactions seemed to hurt the Saiyaness; Tater's and Tazz's being joined by the men in their company. Tears stung at the eyes of Hakkona's former lover, Yujin, as a hand came up to cover his mouth in shock and concern for the mother of his second child; a nauseous feeling sweeping over him, as his other hand came to gently rest on baby Aitez's head, who mercifully slept through such a traumatic ordeal. Shuen, meanwhile, for all that he had seen and endured in his long life, visibly took a step back, as he mouthed "Oh my god...", before his gaze shifted to the father of the injured Saiyaness.

Torno, despite having conquered his demons and anger, and being the most stoic member of the group, furrowed his brows and clenched his fists so tightly that his digits were digging into his palm; drawing blood as a visible snarl etched itself onto his visage, while a sharp exhale escaped through his nostrils. It was impossible to determine which response to the sight of her injury hurt the most, but the Saiyaness looked away from all of them, all the same.

Tater's words would be the only thing that Hakkona registered, from that point on, as the only confirmation she gave to the Little Rabbit was a slow, hesitant nod. Focusing on her breathing did, even if only a little bit, distract the Buff Gal from fixating on the pain she was feeling on multiple levels, before Tater's hand finally met the scorched flesh around her throat. To the Lagomorph, she would find that the flesh was still painfully hot to the touch, as if it was still on fire; the ends of the injury meeting with untouched skin, only to reveal that Ghost's hand had been wrapped so tightly around Hakkona's throat, that no amount of healing would fully remove the mark he'd made on her.

For all of Tater's efforts, once she was finished, a permanent scar, in the shape of Hakkona's attacker's hand, remained wrapped around the neck of the Saiyaness; the flesh no longer burnt or injured, but scarred to a degree that the skin, itself, would feel like any healed burn would, while the discoloration of the area would always be noticeable, from that point on. Until she was asked about how it felt after it was remedied, the Buff Gal had yet to even feel the skin on her neck, let alone see it; her gaze returning to the others, however, once the job was done.

Slowly, Hakkona would reach to feel her neck, as a few of her digits grazed the scarred flesh that, unfortunately, couldn't be repaired fully. The moment that she felt the difference in texture in her own skin, sight was no longer required, to understand the extent of the damage still done to her own body; her controlled breathing turning back into near-frantic breaths, as fear and trauma were mixed, suddenly, with a thirst for vengeance. The Saiyaness, however, seemed too hurt and mentally scarred to speak just yet, as a weak, albeit honest smile was given to Tazz and Tater as a show of gratitude, before her vengeful gaze swept over to her equally frustrated father.

Exchanged glances between her and Torno, for what felt like a quiet eternity, would come with changes in the emotions their eyes held, given their circumstances; Hakkona wrought with guilt and regret, for headbutting the very man she tried to model herself after, while the Mighty Saiyan, himself, kept a softer look in his eyes, to convey his forgiveness of his offspring's sudden outburst, moments ago. Shuen and Yujin couldn't quite bring themselves to speak, even to each other, as they both knew that even if words weren't being spoken, that the Buff Gal and the Royal Commander were sharing a moment with one another.

When that was finished, however, Torno took a deep breath, and allowed himself to relax just enough to soften the pressure of his digits against his palms; his gaze shifting to the rest of the group. "I'd like for all of you to take these next few days to rest, and reflect on yourselves, while Hakkona recovers. Tazz... I'd like for you to join both myself and Hakkona, in preparing ourselves for the likelihood of things worsening, as you fear they might." While it was meant to come off as a request, no one could fault Torno for how he took command over most situations; his gaze, thereafter, shifting to Tater, Shuen and Yujin.

"Tater, I'd like for you to remain with Yujin and his father, so that Aitez is still near him, if that's not an unfair request. As for them..." Both Shuen and Torno's gazes met, in that moment; equally narrowing as they'd both come to realize that the peace they'd afforded for the past year or more was truly at its end, whether they liked it or not. "Train your son, Shuen. Don't coddle him, lest we suffer further damage to those we hold close, for not preparing both them and ourselves for something like this, again." A game plan had seemingly been set, while Torno, albeit indirectly, admitted to his own wrongdoing, in the situation at hand. For the longest time, Torno and Shuen handled threats, themselves, while their offspring and their allies were afforded peace and ease of mind, without having to fend for themselves as readily; creating a sort of dependency on the elder warriors, that simply couldn't work anymore.

"If there are any objections, I suggest you voice them, before we go our separate ways, and prepare for what very well might be inevitable."

[e-vasong]

I’ve already talked about a Leverage crossover where the Hargreeves are conmen but I'm. losing it thinking about. a Leverage AU where the Leverage team sees these kids on tv, and they just go.  oh shit, that’s just fucking wrong.  (I know the timelines don’t match up but let’s pretend the umbrella kids were born a little later, or that Leverage takes place a little earlier, or something like that.  I don’t know.)

But these fucking umbrella kids show up on TV, and at first none of them are paying much attention. Not right away.  They’re busy running cons, and none of them except Hardison watch TV for fun very often.

So they’ve all heard bits and pieces about this Umbrella thing, and aren’t quite sure what to make of it.  Superhumans, huh? Eliot mutters at one point. Whatever. Our lives are already so goddamn weird.

But eventually they catch a broadcast while they’re home in between cases.  it’s playing in the background while they’re enjoying a meal together at the brewery.

The Umbrella Academy saves the day yet again! the broadcaster declares cheerily. We go now to a statement at the Louvre from their leader, Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

It’s just novel enough to catch their attention--being who they are, they all perk up at the word Louvre--and it gets them half-watching as they chat over breakfast.

It’s Parker that sees it first.  She’s Parker, so what catches her attention is actually not the fact that one of them is covered in blood, nor is it the fact that their father is calling them by numbers instead of names.  It’s the way that they stand, tense and upright.  It’s the way that the one covered in blood is trembling minutely, so fine that it’s almost imperceptible. But she notices. And she notices the way that the one to the bloodied boy’s left--the fifth one in line--leans over ever-so-subtly when their father is looking away. Whispers something with the barest movement of his lips. And then, after a moment of hesitation, he links hands with his shaking brother, twining their fingers together.  Parker knows that whisper, knows what this is. She used to do that with her brother.  Used to hold Nick’s hand, just like that, when their fosters were scaring him, trying to provide comfort even despite the fear of being caught.

It’s not long before the others follow her gaze. She’s stopped engaging in the conversation entirely, is just staring at the television with a death glare, nose wrinkled.

“Parker, baby,” Hardison says.  “That’s your angry face.”

“I’m angry,” she says, and doesn’t elaborate.

“Got it,” Hardison takes it in stride, as he always does.

Eliot’s frowning at the TV.  Unlike Parker, his eye does jump to the most obvious thing first.  To the boy, no older than eleven or twelve probably, drenched head to toe with blood.  There’s no rips in his clothing; Eliot’s pretty sure the blood isn’t his. He’s standing up straight, but his shoulders are slightly hunched.  Like he’s injured.  Broken ribs, maybe?  And he’s been taught to hide them too. He’s also not the only one with that too-stiff posture. These kids aren’t standing up straight. They’re standing at attention.  Number One, their father calls one of them, and what are those? Fucking callsigns?  

Sophie and Nate are watching too.  Their faces are carefully blank.  They aren’t happy, Parker’s pretty sure, but they’re trying not to react.

“What the hell?” Hardison says slowly.  He’s the last one to catch on, though only by a very narrow margin.  He lacks Sophie and Nate’s cynicism, and the years of personal experience Parker and Eliot have, but he’s still too smart to not figure it out almost immediately.  And he is first one to abandon the stunned stillness that’s fallen over the rest of them, pulling his laptop out of his bag, already quickly tapping away at the keys.

“This ain’t right,” Eliot says, voice a growl in his chest.  “This is--this is--it’s televised child abuse.”

Sophie makes a quiet noise of agreement then. “It is,” she says, quietly disgusted. “Those poor children.”

Nate is still staring at the screen, lips pressed flat.

“This Reginald guy looks rich,” Parker says.  Then: “Can we kill him?”

Eliot chokes on his drink.

“How is this even legal?” Sophie asks.  She sounds curious, though not particularly surprised by the grievous violation of child protection laws before her. “It’s so...blatant.”

“Sir Reginald Hargreeves,” Hardison says, no longer typing.  “He is--oh shit.” And the typing resumes, faster and a little more panicked than before.

“Hardison?” Nate prods after a moment, giving Hardison a sidelong glance.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good,” Hardison says.  “The INTERPOL files on this guy are locked up tight though.  Almost tripped their security system there.  I didn’t, of course, but--”

“You couldn’t get in?” Eliot says, smirking.

“Yet,” Hardison says.  “Dammit, man, it’s been less than five minutes.  Give me a couple hours and that thing is mincemeat.  Metaphorically speaking, of course.  But I do see what’s going on here and,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment.  “Y’all, this is hinky.”

“Yes, I think we got that,” Nate says.  The corner of his lip twitches up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hardison says.  “This guy has got friends everywhere.  No one knows how he got the kids, but it looks like he technically bought them--”

“He what?” Sophie sounds like she’s been suckerpunched.  Parker can’t think of the last time she heard Sophie sound so shocked.

“Oh yeah.  You think that’s bad?  The numbers aren’t code names  The numbers are their name names.  Like, legally.  I just found an article that said he ordered them by how useful he thinks they are, but judging by the adoption papers it was actually in the order he, uh,” Hardison coughs, “acquired them.”

Eliot is swaying where he stands.  “Common tactic.  He’s pitting them against one another so they’ll be easier to control.  It undermines the self worth of the ones lower on the scale and makes the ones that are higher up feel obligated to do what he wants.  Son of a bitch.”

“...And it looks like he leveraged their powers as excuse to gain exemptions from child protection laws,” Hardison continues like he hasn’t been interrupted.  “Claimed their abilities meant they don’t need the same safeguards.”

“That’s bullshit!” Eliot sounds thunderous.

“I know, buddy,” Hardison reaches over blindly, waving his hand around vaguely until he finds Eliot’s shoulder.  He gives it a comforting squeeze.  “I didn’t write it.”

Eliot heaves in a shuddering breath.  “That’s just--”

“Evil,” Sophie finishes.  

“I’m inclined to agree,” Nate says.  He’s not watching the TV anymore.  He’s staring off into the middle distance, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh!” Parker perks up.  All the grief and distress that had been brewing on her face vanishes like storm clouds parting for the sun.  “Nate! Nate, are you scheming?  You look like you’re scheming.”

Nate makes a noncommittal grunt.  “It would be dangerous.”

“They’re in danger,” Sophie says softly, jerking her head in the television’s direction.

Eliot’s long-since gotten to his feet.  He’s pacing, and that’s how Parker knows he’s furious.  When Eliot is too angry to stand it, he has to move, has to find some way to handle the rage roiling under his skin.  Usually he cooks, chopping vegetables with furious aplomb.  And when he can’t cook, he paces.  

“They’re fucking child soldiers,” he says.  “I can’t--” he cuts himself off with a furious shake of the head.  I can’t believe, he was about to say, Parker thinks, but he had to stop because that’s not true.  Eliot knows better than anyone what the government--what the world does to people they find useful, whether its skill or power that makes them so.

“Y’all are behind,” Hardison says in sing-song.  “I’m already trying to burn this motherfucker down.”

“Hardison, do not tip our hand,” Nate says, snapping into his leader-voice automatically.  Parker grins.  He’s already got a plan, then.  She knew all that reluctance was just for show.  Sophie laughs, as clear and bright as the ringing of a bell, and even Eliot perks up.  

Hardison grumbles, closing his laptop and stuffing it back in his messenger bag.  

Nate is grinning a little too, though it’s that angry smile he gets sometimes when Parker knows he’s thinking about hurting bad people.  She understands.  She's wearing hers too right now.  Nate glances them all over, and for all the malice dripping off the knife’s edge of that smile, his eyes are soft.  Maybe even a little proud.

“Fine. Fine. You guys win,” Nate says, lifting his hands in defeat.  He’s putting on a show of being beleaguered, but Parker can hear the sparking anger in his voice, and oh, how could she have forgotten?  Sophie is so gently righteous, Hardison so achingly distressed, and Eliot so full of fire and fury that she almost didn’t notice Nate’s seething wrath, nearly forgot that Nate looks at every injured child in need of help and thinks of Sam.  “Everyone, get your things.  Hardison, get us some plane tickets.  Let’s go steal some children.”

“Okay, okay.  I ain’t complaining cause, like, fuck that guy,” Hardison says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  “But stealing children?  Could you have made us sound anymore like kidnappers?”

“Hardison!”

“I’m just saying.”

[dienamights]

Unfavorable Guidance | H.Shinso

​✎ Mindjack has been doing these kind of jobs since he was recruited as a hero, he is unmistakingly the best at them, doesn’t need anyone butting their noses in his business, especially you, the sly fox in disguise, offering your tainted helping hand.

✎ Protagonists: Hitoshi Shinso x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 6.4K

✎Category: noncon/dubcon, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

✎Caution(!):  noncon/dubcon, Smut 18+ MDNI please, , mentions of alcohol, mentions of murder, minor character death, sex under quirk use, spitting, degrading, swearing, manipulation, unprotected sex. 

✎ Author’s notes: I KNOW I’M LATE EUFGKHDFVBDFXL, but here is my contribution to @daisy-bakugo​ 2k event Vice City! Please take the time to read everyone’s work if you haven’t! Thank you so much for letting me participate.

I listened to this throughout the entire process of writing it, if you’re familiar with Kingdom Hearts, some names will ring a bell to you lol. also I hate the header and the summary but you’re just gonna have to live w it for now cause its 8 am I NEED SLEEP

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

The annual auction of Vice City is one of the biggest social events of the year. The wealthiest families and richest people in the world come from everywhere in attempts to win what is secretly considered the greatest treasures of all time. Greatest and most expensive.

Alas, the after party held later on is what people are all secretly actually waiting for, where the most exquisite and rarest artifacts of the year get auctioned off to whoever is lucky enough to even be included in the guest list.

While not all are there for the auctions, it certainly is the perfect opportunity for anyone who's anyone in the world to show off their wealth. Filthy rich people sway all around, laughing and bragging. Venetian crystal chandeliers, velvet carpets, gambling, and alcohol. Men with their cigars, men with their wives, and men with their arm candies, their escorts or mistresses.

Yet, Shinso isn’t here for the luxury, he isn't here for the fame and the fortune, nor the reputation people thrive for when they buy those - meaningless, he calls them - relics. No, he is here on a mission, one he certainly wants to be done and over with because he wants to go home. He loosens his tie with an aggravated sigh before knocking back the last of his only gin and tonic, the bitter taste prickling his throat as he surveys the crowd of people all around him while he stands idly by the bar.

He knew it’d be a pain in the ass the second he got the mission assigned to him from the agency, the words “intel” and “Vice City'' of all places forced a frown upon his face, yet, being the most suitable for this job, he couldn't really decline.

Mindjack isn’t the type of hero you see on billboards and magazines, isn’t the type of hero to kiss babies’ heads that get thrusted at him in meet and greets, he certainly isn’t one to have those adoring fan clubs that follow his every move, posting about his greatest conquests. Oh no, he is a hero that works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, undercover -lie through your teeth throughout the whole ordeal- kind of hero, the kind of hero that goes home at the end of his missions with no gratitude towards his work, because nobody knows who he is or what he contributes to the society.

For the longest time, Shinso accepted the life he’s living, he didn’t look for validation from the citizens, knowing his work is always beyond the scope of their knowledge and their awareness, but sometimes, just sometimes, the sour droplets of envy would foul his mouth when his amethysts for eyes scan over the extravagant heroes, making a show out of saving their cities and getting praised and awarded and loved for doing what they’re supposed to be doing, their job. 

“Squeeze that glass a bit more and you’d break it”

A voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him, Shinso blinked twice before his eyes dragged over to you, oh so beautiful and oh so close. Your nimble fingers wrapped around his fingers, the lacey glove lightly scratches his hand before he lets go of the glass in surprise, dropping it into yours. You giggle sweetly, turning around to place it on the bar before ordering your own, but not without looking at him over your shoulder and sending him a smile.

“What will it be, sugar tits?” the bartender leans over the counter, towel thrown on his shoulder as he sends you what's supposed to be a sultry look. Your elbow is placed on the counter while you rest your chin on your hand, smiling temptingly at him. “Anything that’ll get you to stop staring at my boobs.” Shinso almost laughs at the contrast between your smile and your voice, sharp and venomous, and the man leans back so far from you like he’s been stung. Walking away to work on a drink for you.

Shinso’s eyes rake your body without his knowledge, he admires the dress adorning your body, hugging you in all the right places, cascading down to the floor, and that slit my god, your legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how you can strut so elegantly with them on. A snap of your fingers breaks his trance and he tries - keyword tries - to act nonchalant to his obvious ogling and you only laugh in return.

You hum lowly, “So,” you’re turning to face him as you lean back on the counter, pushing your chest out to grasp even more of his attention, “what's an esteemed hero like you doing in a place like this?” It takes Shinso a good minute before he narrows his eyes, left foot back and ready to either take you down or run away if you were to involve greater forces. No one is supposed to know about his true identity, no one is supposed to know that there is a hero within them.

But what shakes his demeanor is the way you dangle his wallet in front of him, like dangling a stupid feather for some silly cat, waiting for it to jump at you to entertain you. Shinso swallows with a struggle, deciding that using his quirk to retrieve his wallet back will lead to him leaving, and he didn’t want that. He’s been keeping an eye on the wanted man for hours now, and it’ll all go to waste because of your slimy little hands and your-

“Here,” you toss it back to him, and he stumbles a bit before catching it properly, eyeing you for any sudden movements, but you simply turn back around in time to hold the drink from the bartender’s hand with a smile dazzling your lips. “You’re getting intel on The Wise?” you mumble against your cup, sipping slowly, eyes never leaving Shinso’s glaring ones. How the fuck do you know?

“You’re not the first.” you smirk, finger wiping the smeared lipstick against the glass before circling the rim. “You all look the same, thinking you’re better than them because of your position in the society, only for that ego to come and bite you right in the ass.” It’s almost ironic how poisonous your voice could get while still maintaining that mesmerizing smile, and oddly enough, Shinso’s eyes keep drooping despite his desperate attempt to fight against them.

You hum again, the click of your heels sounding muffled to him, eyes blurring when you get so close to him your breath tickles his cheek. “But you’re different, hmm? You’re gonna make the bad guy go away?” 

“Yes.” it's rushed, almost desperate, and the hero is astonished at how he sounds. “Then, lemme help you… Hitoshi.”

A blink, and you’re gone just like you vanished right from under his nose, slipped right between his fingers. A low curse escapes Shinso’s lips and he turns around swiftly to question the bartender, hell bent on getting any information on the girl that just revealed his entire identity and mission to him in a matter of seconds. 

“How can I help you, sir?” the question boggles his mind, the big burly man with an attitude problem wasn’t there anymore, replaced by another sweet woman that held concern in her eyes at his sight. “You’ve been staring at the wall for a while there, need me to call your driver to get you back?” 

“Wa- but I- She,” Shinso’s body started heating up in anger, worry, embarrassment, he doesn’t really know, but what he wants to know right this instant is how long he’s been out of it and for god’s sake, why?

Shinso doesn’t really consider himself to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but dammit did he feel like a complete idiot letting you run off like that, a quick trip to the restroom for a splash of water clears his head enough for him to pull back his wallet from his pocket, flipping through it and finding something he was absolutely sure wasn’t there prior to your visit. A silver card, with ‘Surveillance room’ scribbled on a note behind it.

Caving in and accepting whatever help you were offering him, Shinso slides the card through the reader, sighing in relief upon the satisfying ding sound, followed by the door opening to the surveillance room.

“Now that’s what’m talking about.” life got so much easier now that he could watch The Wise through multiple screens, making it hard to miss a single move of his. The hero allows himself to relax a bit, hand messing with his hair and tired eyes blinking in irritation against the glare of the screens. The Wise was the mastermind of Organization XIII, as their name intel, they’re consisting of the same thirteen members that founded it years ago, nobody really knows how they started, what shocked the whole world is how grand their first crime actually was, bloodbath of the century -they would call it, seventeen slaughtered heroes, followed by their families, including women and children, thousands of millions of ¥ in money laundering atop of it, all within a span of 4 months, that was years ago, back in their prime.

Now, with eight of them behind bars, the remaining five were able to stay under the radar, distributing whatever money they were able to keep between them and fleeing to different parts of the world. Just because they were apart, didn’t mean they were any less dangerous, The Wise is a prime example for that, brutally murdering three of the undercover heroes sent his way to bring him back to justice, but they weren’t Shinso, he’d try to remind himself.

May their soul rest in peace, they were those heroes he felt dissociated from, the type of heroes to flaunt their powers, monetize the peoples’ knowledge of their quirks, uncover the secrets of their job, they were easy targets for people like The Wise, he’d know their weaknesses and how to take them down before they even think about pursuing him. Now, Mindjack was a different story, he wasn’t held on a pedestal by the people he saves, simply because they don’t recognize him, while he would loath that reality sometimes, he thanks the god for it today, as he’s watching the man’s call out for a drink.

Amethyst eyes scan the remaining screens, widening upon the sight of you looking right back at them, you are a vixen to him, eyes half lidded with a smile so intoxicating it does nothing but entrance whoever was lucky enough to catch its sight. Lace clad fingers wrapping around a piece of paper, you are so beautiful, Shinso tries to stop his mind from wandering, imagining what you wore underneath that angel crafted dress, envisioning what those fingers could do to please him, the same fingers that held the unfolded paper, the word ‘RUN’ smeared across it in lipstick.

Wait a minute, run?

Even before the poor hero could react, the similar satisfying -now dreadful- ding rings in his ear, before the door opens behind him, illuminating the room even more. Shinso stands to face two men, both as surprised as he is to see another occupant in the room. Right before any of them move, the hero opens his mouth and prays to god that whatever way he’s winging it works. “You got a permit to be here?”

Jesus one of you answer, and they both do - the left having fingers curving into talons while the right pulled at strings from the tips of his fingers, both ready to attack - and by god Shinso couldn’t be happier upon hearing a sound, because the minute the word ‘yes’ slips through their lips, Mindjack is smiling like a madman, welcoming the look of glossy eyes and heavy heads like a beloved relative’s return back home. 

“Great… Now,” the two manipulated  men face him, unaware of the dreaded fate bestowed upon them, while Shinso just can’t seem to keep the glint in his eyes at bay. “Why don’t you put on a show for me,” he breathes, smiling down at the ground before looking at them. ”Choke the fucking life out of each other.” The men don’t even blink, quick to face each other and jump, hands wrapped around throats like a vice, Shinso only moves away from the men on the floor as they thrash and kick at each other, limbs flailing as they try to force the life out of each other.

Turning his back against them, Shinso eyes the screen he was monitoring before their entrance, ignoring the groans and gasps of air behind him. He curses under his breath when he sees The Wise getting up from his place, heading towards a room that is supposed to be monitored by screen #6, but is purposely out of service. If he isn’t able to question The Wise or even keep an eye on him, then he’s gonna head on over to the next best thing. Gargled screams echo through the corridor as the hero makes his exit, making sure the door clicks shut behind him, he wouldn’t want to cause disturbance to the esteemed guests of the society of lowlifes.

Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, killing machines that didn’t spare the live of the innocents, so why should he spare theirs? 

Shinso makes it back to the main event, immediately finding you between guests, sitting so pretty on the poker table, eyes drawing him closer, the grin adorning your lips now wobbly, easy for him to distinguish as fake, forced, a façade kept for the people surrounding the table. He is hasteful in settling himself in the chair near you, shoulders tense when different pairs of eyes fall upon him, the dealer shuffles the deck to draw cards for Shinso, but you hold your hand out with a smile. “He’ll sit this one out, by my lucky onlooker.” A round of laughter causes Shinso to flush in embarrassment, feeling degraded and looked down upon by all these lowlifes, petty thieves and criminals, thinking they’re better than him, oh he’ll show them.(1)

It takes a few rounds for the table to empty out, now occupied by Shinso and yourself, the dealer asks him to move over to the next chair before they start their game. “Place your bets.” you’re quick to slide over a few of your chips to his side - some black, others red and blue, he didn’t really pay that much attention to them- your eyes daring him to reject your invitation to take the money to play.

He only blinks at you, his eyes seemingly never wanting to lose sight of you as he fights with himself to sit straight to face the dealer again, the man proceeds to deal both of you the cards for you to review before placing your bets. “You tricked me.” Shinso is almost appalled at the hurt laced in his voice, as if the two of you had a bond that was never meant to be broken. “don’t believe so, told you to run didn’ I?” The mockery in your voice is a hoax, the single twitch in your brow catches his attention and he can only deem it as you being stressed, whether it be because of the ordeal regarding the surveillance room or not is beyond him. No, he was stupid and foolish and he will not fall for your silly games again. “Exactly, you knew they were coming.” you hum in response to his accusation.

“Call.” Dropping a few of your chips on the table, your eyes shift momentarily to him, “I did, I said I’d help you and here I am.” He slams his bet on the table, ‘Raise’ gritted right through his teeth at your words. “I don’t want your help!” He reveals his cards on the table, a way to show his disinterest in your assistance as the dealer announces ‘Flush’ at his hand. Your eyes meet again from above your cards, now narrowing down instead of the half lidded look you seem to always have “You don’t want it, but you need it.” The façade you held before is slowly but surely breaking, now a deep frown tugging at your lip as you reveal your own hand, brows furrowing even further in challenge as you hum in displeasure when the dealer announces your ‘Full House’ hand to be the winner of this round.(2)

Shinso moves swiftly to stand when he sees you do the same, right before his entire world starts to spin, lights and colors mingling together and causing his head to spin, he sits down again, head between his hands as he tries to calm himself down, it's probably the strain of the mission, maybe it’s the weight bestowed upon his shoulders to finish it up. The hero lifts his head up to ask you, about something he himself isn’t even sure of, he just wants to hear your voice, like a drug to him that he can’t help but ask for more. Except when he does, you aren’t there, the table is occupied by different people, the dealer is another man with longer hair and slimmer figure, and by god did Shinso want to rip his hair out.

The minute he feels like he could get back on his own to feet without falling down on his ass, Hitoshi is quick to check his pockets, adamant to find a clue your sneaky hands slid into one of his pockets while he was out, despite the tantrum he almost threw at not wanting your help nor guidance, and he does find something, a simple metal key, attached to it was a tag with the number XIII on it. 

In his shock, he almost drops the key on the ground but barely holds himself together to avoid any further embarrassment, Shinso takes deep breaths, knowing that the key in his possession is his entry to the heart of the organization, and especially to The Wise. 

Every year, specifically at the Vice City annual auction afterparty, The Wise holds a meeting with the most dangerous men within the continent, the most loathsome masterminds of the criminal world, all in the hopes of recruiting one of them into the organization, to uphold its name and spread its message. Every year, with no recruitment yet. 

With trembling hands, Shinso stuffs the key back into his pocket, eyes on the lookout for anyone who might’ve caught the key in his hand, but sighs in relief when he sees some engrossed in their meaningless poker and absurd talks, while the majority have made their way to the next hall over for the auction that is being held. He takes the stairs three at a time up the floors, facing a red oak double door, the same forsaken number engraved into it. After multiple failed attempts at inserting the key in the lock, he finally does with a huff, hearing the lock echoing in his ears before pushing the door open.

To be honest, Shinso didn’t know what he was expecting to see on the other side of the door, he thought maybe he’d watch weaponry trade off, perhaps people brawling and fighting amongst each other for the title of being the new members. But he certainly didn’t expect to be engulfed in jazz music, men with their cigars laughing and chatting, without a single care in the world, as if their hands weren’t tainted with the blood of the innocents, oh how he loathed them. In an attempt to fit in, he grabs a glass of whiskey from the butler standing by the door, nodding to him in thanks before moseying his way over to the corner in the room, he’d be damned if he got caught in the crossfire of those lunatics.

A stage is set up in the front of the room, and it takes a second for him to acknowledge the pole placed right at its center, it takes him another few seconds to see the beauty dancing on that pole, Shinso’s eyes rake her body without his knowledge, he admires the lingerie adorning her body, hugging her in all the right places, garter snug against her thighs as she twirls, her legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how she can dance so elegantly with them on… wait a minute. 

As if predicting the minute he realized it was you, you twirl to face him, lips pulled into a smile yet again, a giggle interrupting your humming as your body twists and turns on the pole. Shinso isn’t really sure how long he sits there captivated by your body, the only thing breaking his trance is the clap on his back and the heavy weight that sits next to him. “Beauty, isn’t she?”

Bile rises to Shinso’s throat at the mere sound of the person next to him, fear stills him in his place, restricting any movement he’s even thinking of doing, all he could do is sit, widened eyes and sweaty brows at the sight of The Wise right beside him. 

“Don’cha love it when women like her,” The Wise points at you with his cigar, “work to please men like us?” His arm now completely wrapped around Shinso’s shoulder as the hero feels his soul levitating from his body. “Look aroun’ya,” and he does, and only then does he really pay attention, he should’ve seen it all along, the glossy eyes, the droopy heads, it's a sight he was so well accustomed to that his brain normalized it to him. With whatever courage he musters up, he shifts his eyes to look at the man beside him, noticing the ear plugs he wore, and right then the gears start to turn in his head. “My most prized possession I tell’ya.” 

Of course you would be, how else would you have access to all these things, the card, the key, the vanishing from thin air, it all makes sense now.

“Enjoying yourselves, gentlemen?” your words are flowing like honey to his ears, a low buzz ringing in his brain as you spoke to the men in front of you. His ability to frown is nonexistent, a relaxed look adorning his face as he looks up at you, so elegant and beautiful in whatever hugged that miracle of a body.

“Sure are,” The Wise jerks Shinso by the shoulder, and he realizes that was done to break whatever trance he was in, he could only glare back at you when you smile at them, that conniving smile that hosted all the lies you spouted to him.

“y/n,” He calls you and by God if this isn’t the most beautiful name Shinso ever hears, what a shame it's being tainted by the voice of this criminal. “Wadda ya say to takin’ this fine boy to the red room, hm?” The man urges him to stand and take your hand, which he did at the blink of an eye, his body moving on it’s own to graze his lips against your knuckles in a breathless kiss. “Treat’m real nice for me.” The hero’s feet take him to follow you, his steps light, like walking on clouds, the sway of your hips pulling him closer to you until his chest is flush against your back, pushing you to move faster into the room you are pointed towards.

Walking aimlessly through hallways, taking lefts and rights he would never be able to recollect in his current state, you both enter a room, red just like The Wise called it, crimson silk sheets fitted on a king sized bed, maroon loveseats and plush carpets, everything in that red hue that it's almost nauseating. 

Bringing your hands in a loud clap, the fogginess in Shinso’s vision dissolves, your creased brows and frown now more prominent to him than ever, his eyes catch the scar trailing from the back of your neck to your cleavage, confused as to why his usual perceptive self would miss it, but then again, he doesn’t feel like he was ever himself throughout this whole ordeal.

To say he was furious is an understatement, he never felt more played in his life, he is Mindjack, the most conniving hero of all of Japan, he was manipulative and sly , known by his people to get jobs done, no matter who his opponent is, he always comes back victorious. And when his ears pick up your sigh of relief, he could only see red, he is hurt, he is scared, but now its his act, his turn to fuck shit up, he wants to hurt, he wants to scare.

“Fuckin’ lying bitch,” It takes him all but two steps for his body to graze yours, tantalizing eyes boring down into yours as you gasp at the close proximity, “you were workin’ with’em this entire fuckin’ time?”

“N-no that’s not it,” you stutter, flustered at his overwhelming presence, trying to put some distance between you and the fuming man by pushing his chest, “Please, I need you to listen to me.” 

“Oh, now you’re beggin’ hmm?” his firm warm hands circle your wrists, tugging them away from his body and using them to pull you even closer to him, his breath now grazing the tops of your cheeks, “Didn’t your boss tell you to treat me right?” he breathes, “well, get to it, slut.”

“That’s not what this is Hitoshi, just listen-” for the love of all that’s pure in this world, why does the sound of his name exceed his perception of how happiness is supposed to reverberate in his ear? “Keep my name outta your mouth, or I swear,” He hisses at you, the grip on your wrists tightening as you whimper out in pain. 

“You think you can just toy with me? Have me running around and following your orders like a lil bitch!?” He sees you trembling, lips wobbly and in tears, how ironic, he doesn’t know a few words would get you to start tearing up, the change in demeanor from when he first met you confuses him for a second, but only a second, because he’ll be damned if he falls for any of your tricks anymore. “N-no, I swear it isn’t like that, just p-please, please c-calm down! Let me explain myself-” the ugly cackle he lets out shuts you up, teary eyes widening as they fall on his, the aura he’s radiating is terrifying to say the least, your knees shaking in dread at what’s about to fold.

“You think you can play my game and win?”

It takes you a minute to answer, the word no echoing in your head, throbbing in your brain so painfully you forget the words that follow it, but what you can’t forget, what you will never forget, no matter how delirious you feel, is the look of pure sin across Shinso’s face, grin rivaling that of the Cheshire cat, because you were now simply a measly little pawn in his game. 

Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, criminals that broke every law in their way to get what they desire, so why couldn’t he indulge even a little himself? 

He lets go of your wrists, watching as your arms sway next to your body like dead weight before he turns around to flop down on the loveseat, legs spread wide as he waves his hand over to you.

“Waddaya waitin’ for,” he knows you can’t answer him, but it feels so fucking good to hold such power over you after all you’ve put him through. “Now, strip.” the surge of power he feels jolts his dick up in excitement as he watches you take off your lingerie, moves robotic and forced, eyes glazed over both with tears and his control over your dumb little brain. Hitoshi is no villain, he is a respectable hero, but he’s been called that all his childhood, he might as well live up to that expectation, one way or another.

Shinso stands when you’re fully naked in front of him, long legs circling you and taking you all in, the back of his hand grazes your nipple and he all but groans as it pebbles at his touch. But god, he was nowhere near being done with you.

“Spread your legs for me on that bed,” he grins at the way you follow his orders even before he asks, “will ya?” you settle yourself on the bed before slowly dropping your weight on your back, hazy eyes staring up into the ceiling as your arms bring themselves down to circle the back of your knees, pulling them up close to your chest to expose yourself to him. 

Shinso’s cock twitches in his pants again at the opportunity to just seath it into you without any warning, but he barely holds himself back, approaching your body and feeling himself salivating at the sight, what a sight it is, your pussy looking so fucking beautiful clenching over nothing, the sight tempting him to just dive his face right in to get a taste of your juices.

Taking off his suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of his shirt, Shinso presses his thumb to your clit, frowning when he notices how dry you are, of course you would be, he chuckles to no one, puckering his lip to spit right at the nub, watching it trail down to your clenching hole, the sight igniting a flame within him, he does it again, simply to watch your spit hide in your cunt, impatient to follow suit and bury himself in there. 

His thumb is quick to draw circles with your clit, needing for your orgasm to wash over you quickly, eager for the things he’d do to you after he preps you enough to take him. The usual comforting silence is thick between you, no moans escaping your ajar mouth as your arousal seeps out of your pussy, he prods your hole with his finger to collect your nectar, smearing it across your clit again to rub even faster against it.

The only indication of you coming undone is when your thighs start to shake, your body curling in on itself as your back arches, your cunt gushing on his fingers, and Shinso is almost disappointed to not hear you moan out his name in pleasure. But he isn’t that disheartened, he’s bound to hear you scream.

You on the other hand, are petrified at the way your body is being handled, feeling yourself looking down at the horror being folded in front of you, this isn’t you, this is a shell of who you are, wrapped around his finger, at his mercy, and you want out, no matter the cost. But, you are to regret these words, because you see him unbuckling his belt, you hear the zipper drilling in your ear, and you watch him lay atop you, feeling your lungs constrict at the weight settling upon it, and to your utmost terror, the only thing that breaks his bind on you is when you feel his warm head prodding at your entrance, right before seething completely in, your throat prickling when you wail hoarsely in pain at feeling like being split into two.

“No, nonononon, st-stop please, please!” You’re crying, legs thrashing and arms flailing trying to push this monster off of you, but you can’t, you think as your walls pulsate in pain at the intrusion, you’ll never be able to with him placing his entire weight on you like that, and the way he pulls out before impaling you again has you seeing stars in the worst way possible. Desperate for an escape, you grab a chuck of his hair, your nails digging into his scalp before you yank, your jaw throbbing at how tight you clench your teeth in pain and disgust and pure panic. The strength you muster to pull his head up is in vain, because it only jerks his face deeper into your neck, right where your scar trails, and he bites, so hard you’re certain it draws blood. 

Only then does he lift his head up, his upper lip smeared with a smidge of blood, your blood, before he spits right into your mouth. Sick to your stomach at the metallic taste invading your taste buds, you spit right up at him, mindless to the debris falling right back at your face, your mascara running down your cheeks as you sneer up at him. Even as he laughs teasingly at you.

“Don’t worry slut,” He rasps, his nose brushing against yours as his thrusts find a pace, pulling out to the tip before pushing himself fully inside, “It’ll feel good in a minute.” and it does, he feels more of your arousal coating his cock as he snaps his hips against yours, your wails and whimpers slowly yet surely are coated more with lust as you moan out his name. “See tha’, almost too easy…” almost too good to be true.

And it is, because when his eyes struggle to find yours, he is reminded by the feeling that overtook him this entire evening, and when he sees the corner of your lips pull lightly does he want to rip your head right out, but the minute he moves his hand, he is overwhelmed by how wobbly he feels, how your face distorts and misshapes before he is met with the sight of the ceiling, the sight you grew accustomed to when he was taking advantage of your unconsciousness. 

He groans when he feels you impaling yourself on his cock, pussy clenching so tight as you bop yourself up and down his shaft, your tits bouncing with you as he looks up at you, so mesmerized and entranced by your beauty all he does is hold your hips, helping you lift yourself up before dropping you on him, the squelching sound that follows it music to his ears.

You plant your hands against his chest, hips rolling as you pant at his lips, both of you so drunk on the feeling of each other and chasing your highs, “You gonna listen to me, when I ask you to?” His hand claps against your ass at your question, “Yes, yes oh God, anythin’ just don’t stop.” He can’t help but want more of you, want to feel his cock push against you even further, so he plants his feet firm against the bed, hand grabbing handfuls of your ass as he starts thrusting up at you, moaning against your neck when he shoots ropes of his cum inside of your sopping cunt, squeezing him so tight and milking him, and all of what Shinso remembers is the way you arch your back, pressing your chest against his as your whimper out his name, as he feels your juices dripping against his balls and down on the sheets beneath you. After that, all he could see was black.

Shinso awakes startled, eyes darting in alarm before he relaxes when he confirms he’s alone, the red silky sheets now draped over his lower body, pooling at his lap when he sits up to look around once more, desperate for any sign of you. Yet he only sees a brown folder on top of the love seat, impressively thick with the amount of papers stacked inside it, and when Shinso reaches for it, he catches the note that slipped off and draped down on the floor, reading it and scowling at it. ‘You promised you’d listen’

And boy is he more than lucky to listen to you when you asked him to. Because that folder has every tiny little detail he needs to know about The Wise, from the quirks of his circulating bodyguards to the keys to his multiple homes within the world. Pictures upon pictures of the man, decoded letters and basically intel on his entire criminal record.

Fucking finally, Shinso gets to just go home no that everything’s over and done with.

Limited Edition Sneak Peek:

It is way too early for Shinso, the sun glaring at him as he makes his way into the agency, the honking cars and chattering people feeding into his migraine so early in the morning, and he groans as he pushes his door open, ready to get back to his regular routine after the incident at Vice City.

It hasn’t been even a week, but it sure was eventful, using the folder you left him, Mindjack was able to capture The Wise the very next day, via the map of the routes he takes that was attached in the folder. They were able to ambush him, easily being able to bring the right heroes for the job to overcome the quirks of both his workers and himself. Now the mastermind of Organization XIII was behind bars, making the job of catching the remaining members now much easier.

It almost felt like child’s play, at least, that’s what the heroes made it out to be, flexing their powers and their potential, when they were well aware that all their efforts would’ve been in vain if you and your folder weren't there to aid them in every step.

To say that guilt ate him up is an understatement, he feels himself decaying from the inside out from resentment, he figures he spent too much time in the dark, that it started to mess with him, manipulate him, carve him into someone he isn’t, someone that isn’t fit to be a hero. He feels like was walking into a tunnel with no way out, engulfed and trapped in pure merciless darkness, that ate away at his soul every step he took further in.

Shinso trudges up the stairs with a heavy heart, the dread at what he did to you, especially that your intent to help him didn’t waver despite his actions loomed over him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt like he didn’t deserve the life that he’s living in right now. 

Yet, the saying ‘there's a light at the end of the tunnel’ rings in his ear, the minute he opens up the door to his office, eyes widening at the sight before him, smile so dazzlingly sweet, a voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him as the words captivated him despite their simplicity.

“Missed me, Hitoshi?”

(1) its common in poker for women to be onlookers, like the wives of the players for example, the jab at him being an onlooker is basically just a sexist joke to make the people around the table laugh to ease their mind.

(2) to help gain more perspective about the poker scene you can read the elaboration here

Aaaand more about the reader’s quirk here!

Hope you enjoyed! Also, PLEASE if you could theorize with me after reading the fic I’d love you forever, ask me about the reader’s quirk, ask me about some hidden meanings between the scenes JUST ANYTHING. MWAH

Borrowers (taglist):

@hanji-is-life @anarchicmartyr @sleepykyan @yourprincess-maybe @wolfygirl1900 @tteokdoroki​

@theehoneybunii @nanamisbento​ (not sure if you wanted to be tagged for bakuhoe only of all my fics, so sorry if its the former!)

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

[volleychumps]

« Progressive Rivalry

Omg I love your blog 🥺 could I get a scenario or one shot with iwaizumi or Sakusa (or honestly any character you’d like!) where u run into each other at every tournament and it started out as a bitter rivalry but then they got rly worried bc u got hurt and they’re like “why do I care!?” Does that make sense? Ahaha 😅

~ just why do you keep running into the guy you hate most, especially when he equally hates your guts as well?

format: One-Shot 

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi Hajime

Warning(s): swearing, slight mention of blood, enemies to lovers trope 

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

“Oh look, my best friend’s here.” 

“Fuck off.” 

A sarcastic grin tickles your lips as you place a hand over your chest, pouting mock-affectionately as the dark haired spiker wipes at his sweaty neck with a damp towel. You adjust the gym bag on your arm as the rest of your team begins to warm up, already used to this turn of events. 

“Aw, Iwa! You always manage to warm my cold, dead heart. If you have a crush on me, just say so. Are you some kind of stalker?” 

“Hah? A stalker? You wish.”  Iwaizumi stands as the red-headed one and popular brunette behind him stifle their amused laughter into their fists. “Who would like looking at your ugly mug all day?” 

The spiker’s failed attempt to intimidate you with his height had your smile widening in challenge, the insult not hurting a bit.  In fact, you lean a little closer, fake sniffing as if he had genuinely hurt your feelings. 

“Yep. I definitely want this temperamental six year old in the body of a seventeen year old to show an ounce of interest in me. How’d you know?” 

“How can I not show interest in things that perturb me?” 

“So you are interested.” You wink. “Don’t hurt your pretty little head over using words that are too complicated for your brain.” You lean around him to shoot a sweet smile to his teammates, ignoring the flash of irritation across Iwa’s face. 

“Issei, Oikawa, Hiro!” You flash a thumbs up, your pretty smile almost blinding. “You guys were cool.” 

“Y/N-chan~ you’re such an angel!” 

“Angel my ass.” 

“Oh. You’re still here.” Your voice falls dejected as Iwaizumi gains an irk mark on his forehead. Glancing back at your team, you smile and wave at the other three. “Gotta go warm up, cheer for me!” 

“Good luck!” Matsukawa calls after you, merely grinning when Iwaizumi shoots him an irritated stare. 

“Not gonna wish the love of your life a good game?” Hanamaki questions, already beginning to walk off while smirking into his water bottle as his dark-haired friend merely scoffs. The teasing from his trio of “friends”  wasn’t anything new. 

“I don’t think that thing is capable of loving.”

“Yeah yeah, you love her, we get it.” 

Iwaizumi groaned inwardly, sitting down tiredly on the bleachers to rest up as your team littered your side of the net. His jaw clenched when you offered him a lazy wave, kneeling slightly in your position as a libero. 

There were many things Iwaizumi had could say about your character or even the irritating smile on your lips at his blatant annoyance, but he couldn’t deny how well your team mixed. Oikawa whistled lowly as Hanamaki absently mentions to Matsukawa about how the other team hardly stood a chance. 

Iwaizumi blinks, feeling a pit of annoyance in his gut as the boys in the stands whistled at every save you made, the pit deepening even further at the smile you cast in their direction. 

“You’ll get frown marks Iwa-Chan!” 

“Shut the hell-” 

“Oh shit! Y/N!” 

Iwaizumi’s head whips back in the direction of your match at the sound of Hanamaki’s exclamation just in time for the collision. 

And then his breath caught in his breath so abruptly he almost choked. 

You clutched your ankle, teeth biting so deep into your lip so hard Iwa swore he could see a bead of blood as you withheld an obvious wail of pain. Your teammate knelt by your side with a hand clamped over her mouth in shock, Iwa being able to make out from your teammates’ panic that someone had accidentally shoved you so hard to the side you swore you heard your ankle snap in an attempt to stabilize yourself. 

“Y/N-chan!” 

“Is she okay?” 

But Iwa wasn’t listening, all distaste for you seeming to drown out of his system as he wondered, 

wondered why the hell he cared so much about the girl who tried her hardest to get under his skin. Your witty retorts, your wide grin, the softness of your irises, and the pang in his chest every time you jokingly bumped your shoulder against his in passing- 

that same girl who’s cheeks were now shining with spilled tears causing him to rise to his feet. 

“Oi Iwaizumi, where are you going?” 

He didn’t spare a glance to your teammates as they silently made way for the wide-shouldered spiker, dark eyes assessing the damage as he bent down, swooping you up into his arms as if you hadn’t weighed a thing. He ignored the stares and wolf whistles from his team as he hurried out of the gym and in the direction of the infirmary towards the specialists who were trained for these events, heart tugging at the sound of your whimpers. 

“I’ve had dreams about this.” You mumble, eyes clenched shut as tears built up on your closed eyelids, arms wrapping around his neck tighter as you buried your face in his neck. “Please be hot, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“You’re still joking at a time like this?” Iwa’s voice cracks at the proximity, wondering why on earth his chest was pounding in his ears as your eyes shot open. Immediately, you begin to squirm, your face heating up as Iwaizumi continues his hurried stride, barely sparing you a glance. 

“You’re taking me?” 

“No.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me!” 

Iwaizumi leans his head in the opposite direction, away from the volume of your voice, but he couldn’t stop the slight tilt of amusement on the right side of his lips as you seemed distracted by the obvious pain in your ankle. Mission successful. 

He ignores your protests to set you down, frowning at your claims to wanting anyone else to have taken you. Even the brunette one.

“See, now that’s just plain insulting.” Iwa’s eyes narrow at you as he finally sets you down on one of the cots, about to walk off to find the doctor before a hand weakly tugs at the bottom of his jersey. 

“....I think they’ll come soon. Can you...just stay? Just until they come?” 

Iwaizumi blinked. Then blinked again. 

Iwaizumi clears his throat, recovering from his shock before pulling up a stool and grabbing a nearby first aid kit. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, his gentle touch causing your cheeks to flare up as your eyes took on a vulnerable edge. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” It was genuine curiosity, anything to alleviate the strange heaviness in his chest when he acknowledged that fact that you despised him so.

Your eyes widen at the sudden attack, wincing a little as the cotton pad dabs at your lips, soaked in alcohol. “Why do you?” 

“I don’t hate you.”

“Oh-” 

“I just think you’re annoying as hell.” 

“Well I think that not a single thought goes on behind those pretty eyes.” 

“So you think my eyes are pretty?” 

The silence is heavy as you shake your head no quickly, causing Iwa to click his tongue and scold you to stay still as he keeps his eyes trained on your-

oh god he’s looking at your lips. 

“Yes.” You’re almost whispering, shyly avoiding his widened gaze as you lean away from him.

He stumbles over his words at your direct response, unprepared for the way in which you lean a little further back, eyes nervous and not at all the sarcastic gleam he knows as he swallows back the lump in his throat. 

“Well,” and then his hand is cupping the side of your face as he tugs you closer, confusion swirling in his head as his heart surges him forward, practically mumbling against your lips in a daze before he could stop himself. 

“I think you’re prettier.” 

He wanted to smirk at how he could practically see smoke puff out of your head. 

“Even if you hate me?” 

“I’m honestly not sure I ever did.” 

The distance is closed by you, a hand coming up to run your fingers through his dark locks as his thumb strokes your cheek, lips moving feverishly together as you attempt to pull back-

If he let you go, would you go back to hating one another? 

only for him to kiss you back even harder as if he was satiating some sort of hunger, a smile growing on your lips before a shot of pain shoots through your leg, bringing you back to reality as you whine against his lips. Iwaizumi gasps, ignoring your giggles and assuring words that you’re fine, carefully laying you down on your back while elevating your ankle. 

“Y/N.” 

“First name basis? Look at us skipping all the necessary steps.” you tug your hair out of it’s knot, attempting to redo it with a hair tie between your lips as the pain in your ankle falls to a dull throb. 

“What did....are we...?”

“Does the Iwaizumi Hajime want to know if we’re a thing or not?” Your smile has his cheeks flushing, stare becoming irritated. 

“Oi. Nevermi-” 

“Yes, idiot. Now run along and fetch my things, will you?” 

He rolls his eyes at your playful wink, ensuring your injured ankle was positioned properly before beginning to exit the infirmary-

“And Iwa?”

“What is it, doll?” 

Your chest leaps at the nickname, Iwaizumi beginning to smirk at the change in expression on your face before you clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

It was one of the most sincere things you had ever said to him. 

Your unexpected boyfriend kissed you on the lips a second time after a few strides, any confusion within him seeming nonexistent as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The way you gazed up at him had his chest doing somersaults, wondering if you were both just denying the attraction you felt towards one another before fate took its turn. 

“Nah, I should be thanking you.” 

“For what?” 

“Hurting your ankle-” 

“Get out.” 

Iwa’s feeling like an idiot with the lilt to his lips when the door slides shut and something hits the door where his head would have been, the slight smile fading back to his usual scowl at the sight before him. 

His three friends had identical grins on their faces, Matsukawa holding a #1 fan balloon and Hanamaki decked out in merch from your school. He narrows his eyes at the bouquet of flowers tucked behind Oikawa’s back. All obviously from the themed store of the tournament. 

Guess he didn’t need to worry about whether or not you would enjoy his idiotic friends’ company. 

“So you're whipped. Didn’t see that one coming.” 

“Whatever.”

“Iwa, where are you going?” 

“...to go get her things.” 

“You so love her.” 

“Shut the hell up and don’t enter her room until I get back.”

It was only when the dark-haired spiker turned the corner, looking behind and in front of him before his back hits a nearby wall as he attempts to calm his heartbeat, swearing he had never felt such a wild surge of energy through his veins as his lips tingled with the taste of you. He sighs, touching the hair tie that he stole from you when he kissed you a second time from within his pocket, wondering just when his hatred melted into the exact opposite. 

He was so whipped.

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla  @faesbae  @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046   @let-me-have-my-own-name  @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite   @curiouslilbeast  @aprettyfruit   @wisepandaslimeland   @h0ngh0ngh0ng   @lmkjimin   @orangegiraffe7   @dai-tsukki-desu   @kac-chowsballs   @spikertrash   @yamaguwuchi   @lord-suneater-explosion   @holaaaf  @babyybokutoakaashi   @lexysclubhouse   @disneyloving-muggle   @kuuuuroo   @theonep1ece  @that-chick212  @mjoork

Hi all! How are you lovelies doing? I’m going to be on here more often, thank you for 9k and your patience with me has helped me so much! This was one of my requests that I wanted to use to slide back into the swing of things, so I hope you enjoyed! <3

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

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