#it also kinda turned into one hell of a monstrosity in my head

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.3. how was your first night together?

➴ warnings: nsfw, rough sex, oral sex (f. receiving), use of the word slut, bit of humiliation, dacryphilia, subspace kinda?, protected sex, nipple sucking, curse words, aftercare, cockwarming, dirty talk.

➴ word count: 2.2k

➴ author’s note: i have nothing to say for myself… also, this is the first straight smut I write in YEARS. so pls bear with me… also2, im highly aware that jack is probably a cutie pie during sex (and dw!! we’ll get there eventually) but something abt this jack… makes me dizzy. hope u all enjoy!!

—♡

LEAVING the party with this man— you still didn’t even know his name— was probably the best decision you had ever made, after auditioning for that one show that changed your life back when you were thirteen.

The pretty boy drove you to his actual house and rested his hand on your thigh the entire ride. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with the thought of letting a man, who you barely even knew, fuck you senseless.

Maybe Grace was right and you did have a little bit of a thing for humiliation.

Although nothing compared to when he opened the door of his huge house for you, and kissed you before he had even closed it properly. His kiss was bruising and angry, his hands gripping your waist with just the right amount of strength and you could swear you were melting in his arms.

“Fuck,” you moaned, sitting on his lap. “What’s your name?”

He laughed, eyes red and mouth swollen. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No?” You raised your eyebrow, smirking.

“I’m Jack Hughes.” He said, looking bothered by the fact that you didn’t know who he was.

“Hi, Jack Hughes,” you said, rocking your hips against his. “I’m Sophia.”

“Oh, I know who you are, baby,” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “That concert Nico went to? I was there too.”

Now that surprised you.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” He was the one smirking now. You rolled your eyes.

“Less yapping and more fucking. I’m starting to think you’re full of shit.”

You barely had time to finish breathing after your sentence before he grabbed you by your waist, and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He somehow managed to climb up the stairs while holding you and hell if that didn’t make you wetter. You could feel your panties sticky and glued to your intimate part, and honestly there wasn’t anything that you wanted more than to remove them.

He placed you in the bed, gentler than you’d expect him to, and you watched as he removed his suit, his toned abs making you clench around nothing. He pushed his somewhat long hair back before getting his hands on you again.

“Let’s get this monstrosity out of you,” he growled before almost ripping the jersey out of you. You laid on the bed now wearing just your bra and your mini-skirt. “Much better.”

You turned around, deciding that he deserved a show. Removing your bra, you actually moaned when you felt the cold air hit your hard nipples. You fought the need of touching them, and went straight to removing your skirt and panties, not letting yourself feel shy or embarrassed.

You felt Jack’s hands on you, turning you around and getting you on your knees. He looked at you like a predator and from just one look at his pants, you could tell that that man was packed.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do, baby,” he whispered, blue eyes staring down at you. “You’re gonna sit that sweet, needy cunt on my face, and I’m gonna eat you out until you’re coming. Then,” he stepped closer, not breaking eye contact. “I’m gonna fuck you fast and rough. That’s how I like it. And with that slutty face of yours,” he scoffed, eyes full of lust and desire. “I’m guessing that’s how you like it too.”

You bit your lips, nodding with your head, because you didn’t trust yourself enough to do anything besides moaning.

He removed the rest of his clothes and, yay, you were right, but also— fuck. You were right. His cock was big and thick and looked like it would reach your stomach and rearrange your organs.

Just how you liked it.

He laid on the bed and grabbed your hips, making you sit on his face, and when the tip of his tongue met your aching clit, you swear you saw stars.

You were holding yourself on the headboard, not wanting to hurt him. He looked like a great guy, and didn’t deserve to die because he suffocated during sex.

But it looked like he had other plans.

“I think I told you to sit your cunt on my face, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do as I fucking say.” Even though he said it, he was the one who grabbed your thighs and pulled you down, making your pussy cover his entire mouth.

Your moans were probably heard from across the street, but you didn’t care. It had been way too long since your last time and this? This was heaven. Jack was a fucking munch. The way he licked your clit and fucked his tongue inside you? Yeah, he knew what he was doing.

“J-Jack, fuck,” you heard yourself saying, eyes starting to feel wet and mind going all blank. “God, what the fuck.”

The wet noises could be heard whenever your moans came out softly, and his hands on your thighs only made it all better, because you knew it would bruise. You knew it would leave a mark there and it felt so good to know that this was the man marking you up.

You looked down by accident and you came right on the spot when you made eye contact with the man underneath you; it should have been embarrassing to look at him eating you out but it wasn’t anything like that. You felt owned and desired. You felt whole.

He removed his lips from your pussy, not before licking it a few times, and turned you around, him on top of you. He moved so he could grab the condom from the bedside table— fuckboy move, totally— and you watched as he put it on.

He kissed you one more time while he inserted himself on you, not really giving you the time to adjust. You felt your hole burning, and it felt good. You were so wet that the squelching sounds were almost embarrassing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was hitting you on the right spots.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he murmured, slamming into you with force. “Pussy so ‘fuckin tight for me. Holy shit.”

“Harder, p-please,” you heard yourself saying and you saw how his bright, blue eyes were changing into a dark, ocean color. You saw danger in them.

“You’re still speaking so I guess I’m not doing my job the right way, huh?” He said, taking almost all of his cock out just to slam it back into you with strength.

Your mind was going to a very strange place where you couldn’t really think straight and even though that should be scary, you felt nothing but… free.

The pleasure was so fucking good and your pussy had never felt so satisfied, as corny as it sounded. He had his lips on your right nipple, sucking and biting, his right hand rubbing your clit fast and precise, while his dick slammed into you with the right amount of pressure.

You could feel the tension building up inside of you and you knew you were going to come again, and soon, but when you tried to say something, warn him, it felt like you had grabbed a stick of glue and glued your mouth shut.

But it was too much, your legs were trembling and your eyes were wet, tears cascading down your face. You knew your face was red and probably slutty like Jack had said but it didn’t matter.

“Poor slut can’t even talk, mhm?” You heard Jack mock you, and fuck if it didn’t make you clench your hole around his dick. “You liked being called that, didn't you? Little slut. My brainless, stupid slut.”

His hand started to move faster on your clit and you tried to close your legs, out of pure instinct.

“None of that, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, still fucking you rough and hard. “Keep those pretty, little legs open for me. Isn’t that what you’re here for? Letting me, a guy who you barely know, fuck you senseless.”

You were fully crying now, holding onto him with so much force, secretly thankful that he was a Hockey player and probably used to all the roughness.

“I-I’m gonna,” you mumbled, not even thinking straight.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, sweetheart? Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me and wet my bed sheets even more?”

You felt yourself nodding, biting your lips when you felt yourself coming. Jack was still fucking you, searching for his own release. He lifted himself just enough to grab you by your waist and slam himself into you, over and over again.

Your tits went up and down and your eyes went to the back of your head.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up now, baby. C’mon, sweetheart, I’m gonna come, fuck.” Jack cursed, thrusting into you one last time, before coming inside the condom.

All you could hear were your sniffles and his breathing. Your legs were still shaking and your body felt the same way it did whenever you had a fever.

You could hear Jack moving, but you only acted when you felt himself removing his dick. “N-No. Please, stay. Just… for a bit?” You sounded fragile, almost insecure, and you hated it. It wasn’t anything like you, at all. You had guys and girls throwing themselves at you everyday— not that it mattered, you never took interest in any of them— so you shouldn’t act like a needy… slut.

But your fucked up brain couldn’t handle the thought of Jack leaving you. So, you did what you could. Begged.

You heard him chuckling and before your brain could tell you that he was laughing at your request, you felt him moving you both around and, without removing his cock from you, he managed to lay on the bed and let you on top of his, your head on the crock of his neck, your intimate parts still connected.

You sighed, content and full, feeling even better when he put the duvet on top of you both, making you snuggle even closer. He chuckled again.

“Feeling very cozy in there, right, sweetheart?” He mumbled, and you smiled, even if he couldn’t see. He smelled like sandalwood and something else, something that didn’t smell like a cologne or anything like that— just him.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, you probably snoozed after a minute or two, but you woke up startled, feeling empty because he had just removed himself from you. You whined.

“We need to clean you up, c’mon,” he said, rising from the bed and taking you with him. He didn’t seem to care that you were both naked and you looked like you had seen better days— your makeup was all smudged and your eyeliner was long gone. But you felt so freaking good. “I need you to pee. I’ll wait for you outside if you want.”

You looked at the man in front of you, who looked nothing like the cocky guy who hit on you not even three hours ago. He looked soft and gentle, and you were all here for it.

“That’d be great, thank you,” you said softly, and he kissed you on the forehead, before leaving and closing the door behind him. You looked at your reflection in the big ass mirror in front of you and sighed, smiling. You looked fucked but damn. You felt like you had just hit the jackpot.

And maybe you had.

You peed and cleaned yourself, trying to remove the remains of your makeup with wet paper. It didn’t do much, but it was better than going out there looking like Chucky’s bride.

You opened the bathroom door, feeling cold once again. Now that your body temperature was going back to normal, you felt cold walking around naked.

Jack was standing in the middle of the room, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else.

It should be illegal for someone to look this good after rearranging my organs.

“I picked some of my clothes for you. You won’t be sleeping in my bed with Nico’s ugly jersey,” he raised his brow, looking truly upset with Nico’s shirt.

You smiled. “It’s fine. I’m not going to spend the night. That is against the rules of a one night stand.”

It felt stupid to say shit like that, but it was true. Now that the sex drive was going away, you regained some of your senses and confidence and you knew that being a clingy bitch wouldn’t get you anything.

“I mean, I can sleep in my guest room if sleeping with me makes you uncomfortable, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back to your house alone at one in the fucking morning.”

“I know how to take care of myself, Hughes,” you heard yourself saying and you wanted to slap yourself. Where did the attitude even come from anyway? “Besides, I’ll just get an Uber.”

“The fuck you will,” he laughed— he actually laughed. You couldn’t believe it. “Lay down. With how hard I fucked you, you should be like Aurora from Sleeping Beauty anytime now.”

You suppress a giggle, giving in. So easy. “You’re annoying as fuck.”

“Funny, you didn't say that when I was eating your pussy.” He shrugged and climbed on the right side of his bed.

Your face went all shades of red.

“Come on, Sophia. Think about your poor consequences tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes and climbed on his king sized bed. He wrapped his hands around your waist and you put your head in his chest, and listened to his heartbeat until you fell asleep.

He was right. You could manage the consequences tomorrow.

[therummonster]

finally have my hands on the original multiverse tales book, here's my notes list so far!

warning for my reactions to the entire book

both alexis and sterling play tennis

sterling's had trouble with on accidentally catching things on fire

he can also lower his temperature by using his fire powers

their old boss was Ms Murdoch

sterling was quite fasinated by the demons, while alexis has the quote of "please, you can fit everything you need to know about them on a cue card: use blunt weapons and hit them until they're dust."

if it's a demon, it will turn to dust.

the gear they wore on missions consisted of tough armor for upper body, but only thick cargo pants for lower half.

Alexis refuses to wear a helmet

they're both orphans :D and also each other's only friends.

sterling's powers activate by being threatened

sterling is really into demons. "before me stood a beautiful monstrosity."

at this point in their story, this was the first set of fire proof demons they've seen.

sterling kinda got mauled, but alexis is fine!

demons are searching for something.

sterling followed after one of the demons, called the big one's bluff, and cost a life.

i will be redrawing these scenes.

they have a book. ON THE MULITVERSE. chapters include: Killing an Overseer, Lucifer's Orb of Infinite Energies, and Extra-Dimensional Travel.

alexis saw a golden shard in one of the hell hounds mouth.

they seem to be in a higher tech era than our reality

alexis still refuses to wear a helmet on the motorcycle.

motor cycle only has one wheel.

this is where sterling learns to fly

it's a third of a fancy bowling ball

sterling made another bad call on stopping a forest fire and then the demon attacked two people.

sterling can get overheated, in those cases he becomes completely immobile

ALEXIS GOT ATTACKED-

SHE'S IN A COMA

also their doctor is named Locklear

MUMTHER MURDOCH

"shut up and cry, Agent; that's an order."

sterling's nerd is screaming internally like i am while reading this book.

sterling's focusing WE'RE AT THE CLIMAX-

he's using his metal fists, head canon he's got sharp nails and that's how he activates his powers manually.

his plan didn't work.

this is also another time where his brain casually did a 360 in his skull.

HE'S FLYIN!

but so is the demon

it has attacked the innocents again!

THE DEMON IS DOWN!!! STERLING IS A GOD DAMN CANNONBALL!!!

he hit the street hard, his shoulder is dislocated and his leg is probably broken.

ALEXIS IS WEARING A HELMET!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh the news is reporting on his decision...

yep, dislocated shoulder. but luckily his knee is only fractured!

alexis forgives him

he used his powers on the orb!

[popculturebuffet]

Next up for Nickelodeon era of shows, who is your favorite character from each of the early to mid 2000s Nicktoons shows you've seen like: The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron Boy Genius, Chalk Zone, All Grown Up, My Life as a Teenage Robot, Danny Phantom, Catscatch, The X's, and Avatar the Last Airbender?

Jimmy Neutron: This is the entry for jimmy neutron... gotta blast.. arf arf you know the rest. Faviorite character is Hugh, an easy pick I know, he was in ASB1 for a reason, but the fact the man can make any scene memorable by opening his mouth says something. Sheen is a close second. The show itself is great and having rewatched an episode recently, stay posted for that review, I was reminded how.. timeless it feels, it's 50 sci fi feel meaning that apart from some slight age on the cgi, it feels like it could slot in anywhere in time. It's got great jokes, a standout cast, and a really intresting lead who does screw up but more because he thinks he knows everything rather than being a jerk as is sometimes common in cartoons.

Chalk Zone: Hi hi hi to you all, who else could I pick i'ts gotta ne skrawl. Intriguing origin, hell of an introduction and a silky singing voice. It's concept was a tad dated even for the time, but I love chalkzone too much, from said concept allowing for endlessly creative ideas, to giving a character godlike powers in a way that isn't SUPER op. Truly great show, dearly miss it and i'm sad it probably won't be back in some form.

All Grown Up: I really wanna shout it out all grown up with you. God this block is stacked. Dil is the easy winner here. His plot lines were always funny, his weird friendship with vice principal pangborn that evolves from "He thinks their freinds" to "Actually they kinda are", and his easy charm: he gets flak from the twins for being weird as shit.. and just lets it bounce off either not noticing or more likely not carring. As for the series as a whole.. i'ts pretty good from what i remmeber. Admitley the kids ages are weird, probably should've bumped them up to all being 12, but the series itself is a lot of fun: it's neat seeing where everyone ended up, having Kimi and Dill get fleshed out more as characters, and see how they've changed and what hasn't. (I.e. Phil's still gross, but lil is growing out of it, Chucky's still anxious but ti's now more social anxiety, tommy's curosity has turned to filmaking. ) I'ts good stuff and something I should revisit , and should watch on this blog at some point.

My Life As a Teenage Robot: Her teenage robot, life. And this one was a bit hard. The series honestly has a great suply of characters but my pick is.. armagedroid. A bit left field as he basically has one appearnce.. but it's such a great concept: a giant robot designed to bring peace.. but not able to do so without destroying everything and his fight with Jenny is easily the series best as she's down to her HEAD fighting this monstrosity. The series itself is genius and one of Nick's best and how it was treated sucks hard. Jenny is a likeable, fun protaganist who will screw up, being a teen at all but in relatable ways, nicely blending slice of life teen issues with high concept robot shenanigans. I also like Brad quite a bit being a fun sidekick with extra points for not being shipped with the protaganist because 'THAT'S WHAT YOU DO I GUESS'. NOt saying it can't work (if we get to disney they had easily the best around this same time period), but god was it overdone. The series itself wasn't, having art deco style for days and is in need of a revivial stat.

Danny Phantom: Gonna catch em all because he's danny phantom gonna.. you get the bit. Vlad. Nick's best villian ever, and the perfect green goblin to danny's spider-man. His episodes tended to be the series best and martin mull, rip, was a dream as him. The series itself is a stellar superhero show, probably the best of this excellent era for them. It has some age spots (most of these shows do, you may sense a pattern), but it's a great action show with nice continuity, a killer rogues gallery and a nice sense of progression. It's top tier and reviewing a good chunk of it has only helped my opinon.

Catscratch: LALALALALALA CATSCRATTTTCHHH. This is one I need to revisit as I don't remember it well but it has an all star voice cast up front. I mean it has Wayne Knight , Kevin McDonald, and Rob Paulsen as your leads and Maurice LaMarche and Liliana Mumy as your supporting cast. What else do you need?

The X's: don't really have one. This isn't a bad one I just.. dont' remember it hardly at all other than having a great art style.

Avatar the Last Airbender; Sokka. Your faviorite jokey hot mess boy wins this one easier than he should> He was one of my faviorites as a kid, that stands now, Sokka deserved better in Korra. We deserved to see his kids if any. The show itself is one i've been meaning to revisit for years now and is one of Nick's best period: Gorgeous, has one of the best built worlds in fiction, well plotted aside from a few filler feeling episodes (Which i'm gunshy on as Steven Universe got this accusation FAR too often. You can't call every episode that's a break from the main plot filler.. but you can call some of avatar's side adventures filler for sure), including the one they outright mocked, and some shipping issues that were fine when I was a kid but now aged badly, everything else is immaculate and makes for good tv. There's a reason both this show had a second wave of popularity form netflix, and that both it's sequel and reamake have struggled to reach this level. Though Korra as we'll ge tto is still pretty good. More on that later.

[elendsessor]

hi welcome back to me talking about megaten demon designs and if you follow me or have went through the megaten tags you probably noticed i’ve been on a dsrk kick, specifically with the lone marebito since i unintentionally gave it a reread. i’m sorry if you’ve seen nothing but that shit from me i swear i’m almost done rambling about it.

first time i read it was before i finished dsrk2 so i held off on talking about different designs of reappearing demons since i thought maybe they’d appear in 2 but. nah they didn’t.

a lot of these designs are really cool, redesigns or otherwise.

BRW THIS POST IS LONG I’M SORRY-

i’m gonna toss out a spoiler warning since it’s not likely many people in the megaten community has given the lone marebito a read. there’s an english fan translation here if you’re interested!

quick shoutout to @/eirikrjs since they and @/yamayuandadu made a couple of posts a few years back about the origins of jatou ouhanshin aka this badass motherfucker.

i love giant reptiles in any media and goddamn i love this and yes i want ouhanshin to be included in a future megaten game :D

of course there’s likely some demons i missed/forgot to include so don’t expect every instance.

first up are some redesigns since they mostly appear at the beginning.

now with gremlins! they’re definitely a lot different than any of the previous variations, being a lot more goblin-like + a fat fuck one for good measure. it does more closely represent the pre-soul hackers gremlin design (which is a lot better in my opinion). as silly goofy as they are they do much better fit the general idea of what a gremlin is. this was likely a choice based on the overall tone of the manga, which gets really fucking depressing and a bit more body horror-y/gory than most megaten material, but the smaller gremlins should’ve been the silly goofy with the big boi being the gross monstrosity. idk gremlins are popular enough that having such a vast deviation used in this way doesn’t work.

i think the manticore is actually a complete upgrade from the og designs and is a prime example of the more horror part of tlm improving the original.

idk man i really do not like the og manticore designs. given how the beast itself’s name means man-eater and the fact that it has the body of a lion, the thinner body doesn’t really give that same fear (and the sickly green kinda worsens it). nor does the head??? yeah it’s supposed to be ugly but it looks like a last minute decision and not part of the beast itself. the second one is a bit better but neither of them look that good or scary. (i think they’re more heavily based around a certain latin bestiary depiction but that one sucks too sorry 13th century latin guy.)

even if the manga manticore’s body wasn’t buffer the face is fucking amazing. first it has an actual mane like a couple other depictions do, but turning the normally “ugly” face into a skull is sick as hell. oh and the teeth help it a lot. fantastic demon design all around.

this one is less of a total redesign since it’s character specific. there have been minor alterations made to demons throughout the devil summoner franchise especially with dsrk in order to fit that imperial japan vibe, such as high pixie basically being a pixie wearing a kimono. shiragiku’s design is more based in the soul hackers nekomata design though without being a calico. i wanted to give her a bit of attention on the design part for at least one thing because it’s pretty interesting to me and that’s having a normal cat form. yes because of shiragiku’s backstory it makes sense that she regained her pre-furryfication body. however, when it comes to looking at it from a folklore angle it’s pretty interesting.

all nekomata start off as bakeneko, aka monster cats. they can shape-shift to look either more house cat-like, human-like, and everything in-between. they can also mimic voices. nekomata are basically just stronger bakeneko, symbolized by the split tail (which is how they get their name). in megaten, we don’t really see that often, some of which is understandable. what i find so interesting is that it’s kinda defied in some ways? as in, normal bakeneko are glossed over, unless morgana counts since he pretty much is one. the most commonly used nekomata design in smt is the one from nocturne who only has one tail despite being in a non normal cat state. i’m guessing for the sake of simplicity both bakeneko and nekomata are one in the same due to the heavy similarities. idk it’s pretty confusing but basically this was all an excuse to include cat girls and shiragiku is the closest we’re getting to a truly accurate nekomata.

what if i told you though that behemoth is technically original.

gonna be quick about this since basically aside from devil children behemoth has no original design. it’s mostly just recolors of other demons, mainly elephant/hippo/rhino-like ones. in fairness, behemoth is a warped shouten but it’s so different it’s basically its own demon that goes bye bye before getting any real action. still looks cool af but i’m sorry behemoth.

here’s a weird one. despite maintaining the horn, yato no kami is completely different from the game counterpart and is another much better design (wasted on a character that was pretty underutilized despite the potential). in actual japanese folklore, yato no kami are snake deities (and also some hot anime dude from a game i never heard of thanks google). pointing that out because, while cool on its own, yeah looks too much like a parasite and not what it’s supposed to be.

now for a side note on a couple more demons exclusive to the manga

clarion is interesting to me for one reason and one reason only: it heavily resembles the great will aka the universal will aka existence itself.

this one’s a bit of a stretch but i still find it interesting.

this guy was only in last bible, specifically the game gear version, but is referenced and named dropped a ton. every yhvh avatar is something this thing popped into existence. an equivalent exists in the 4 duology aka the axiom but since both games were a bit of a soft reboot of the traditional mainline style plus is pretty much the exact same thing this counts the axiom. it’s important to note that, as it’s technically a concept and not a physical being, it relies on avatars to get shit done. aside from that, there’s not much info on the great will but it’s considered either equal to or potentially the creator of yhvh.

most of the big time avatars that relate to the great will and yhvh, including yhvh himself, are either a big human face or a circle. while it’s stated in the manga that clarion is a goddamn alien the fact that it keeps so many of the design motifs of the great will, yhvh, and all their ocs, i honestly think it just might be another avatar. i mean it also knows shit like god’s wrath so that has to count for something. it’s just so fucking interesting i love it.

on a final, simpler note, touda is cool. i’m 99% sure it just morphs into ouhanshin but still i love snakes. there are so many serpents n noodly things in tlm it’s cool they’re attached to badass imagery even if they’ll likely never show up in any other official material ever again.

[pleb-the-original]

Day 16: The Known Ones (I've been on a bit of a creative binge so I was able to redirect my juices to another entry. I knew immediately who to write about since this guy was always my favorite of the Eden demon designs being the first one and the one most evocative of the concept. I did create some stuff on the fly but he was always meant to be a fighter. The best part is that I even had time to draw him. Important thing to note is that he can actually switch which side of his body the head is at.

Really? You want to interview me? Well, okay. Name’s Osciphela but most people just call me Ossy. I’m an Oscaecilia ochrocephala Eden demon. Yeah, they haven’t come with a street name for my kind yet. Molded by the Lord Taxternal himself. But again, why would you want to interview me? I’m just shopping. Wait, are you certified to talk about that? Huh, you actually managed to get a certification of approval. It’d take a lot of memory dredging for me to even find the last time I’ve seen one of these. So anyways, what do you wanna know about the Ring? How am I affiliated? Buddy, I’ve been the champion for 67 years. My faces have glued to that wall of fame. How’d I discover it? Well I don’t know how similar my story is, but one time I was doing my normal browsing here in the Dark Market when I noticed a little imp trying to steal my goods. So I tackled that bastard and we landed in between these stalls. Then after brushing myself off, the imp grew 20 extra feet! It turned into this hulking monstrosity that still had all the stuff I got, taunting me to grab it. Things got kinda hazy after that since all I saw was red but next thing I knew I had my stuff back and there was a crater in the ground. That’s when the monster congratulated me and introduced himself. His name was Cross and he was a major player in the Court of Wrath. Apparently he decided to start up a fighting ring just for the hell of it and wanted good contenders for his starting lineup. I still don’t know why he singled me out. I only have Wrath as a secondary sin, but he saw something I didn’t in that haze of anger. Turns out I managed to organically obtain an inner wrath spirit, which is apparently more of an older generation ability. So I’ve been headlining ever since. I’ve taken down oni, dragons, there was even that one time in the challenge round that I actually wrested myself off a kelpie. Oh no, the Ring is open for anyone who finds it and feels they got a good chance against any of us. Heck, if you managed to get in with Cross I feel you might have a chance in there too. That’s ok, considering who you’re working for I think you’d rather wrestle with a theorem than an opponent. It was nice talking to you anyways. Here, have some tickets. Maybe you could come by and watch. Next week, I’m gonna be going up against a yeti! Well, see you later.

(Report: Ossy was considerably cordial which did not align with my expectations. The Ring also proves to be a phenomena with a greater level of reach than I predicted as well. I believed it was merely centered in the Court of Wrath’s inner circle. I am in definite need to schedule an interview with this Cross character. Would it be possible to arrange that? We could even make it an event and use the tickets I was given. We could use the break. But I feel this testimony will be a worthwhile entry for the Catalog.

حريق -

)

[katarrinskey-archive]

<previous 3/3

So, this was... a lot. It's honestly kinda funny how short it ended up being for all the time and effort that went into it

And, just for the record, I've grown quite attached to that girl and i'm gonna make that everyone's problem now

[megumiluvr]

bad habits.

summary: gojo satoru is an absolute menace.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: literally where do i start. satoru is a terrible pervy 28 year old womaniser with a thing for virgins. he's just awful. corruption, coercion, manipulation, dubcon, noncon (? reader never explicitly says 'no' or 'stop' but there are some elements e.g. reader struggles), size kink, fearplay, pain, edging (kinda), overstimulation, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, nipple play, literally one mention of blood, no aftercare because satoru is a dick, virgin!afab!reader but gender neutral with no gendered language until bold line. a little angsty at the end because gojo is awful. also gojo has a big dick because it's my fic and what i say goes. also gratuitous swearing and italics.

notes: i feel like i need to apologise initially because of how terrible this whole thing is. i literally banged it out in a day and just wanted to get it posted... there are probably errors because i got sick of reading it, LMAO. this is p dark by the way, please please be careful with the triggers! hell is hot and i am going there! hope you enjoy my baby/monstrosity. <3

gojo satoru is the type of guy to exclusively go for 18-19 year olds simply because they’re so easy for him. his colleagues berate him for messing with kids 10 years his junior, but how can he help it when they flock to him like sweet little angels, begging to be desecrated?

he can somehow tell when they're virgins, says he can smell it. he sees it in first-year university students when he passes their campuses, which is something he does habitually, like a predator scouting out his prey. he recognises the twinkle in their gaze, the way their eyes crinkle into a naïve grin as they socialise with others.

he’s good to them for the first date or two, buttering them up till they’re soft and pliant for him to play with. the perfect gentleman, he’ll hold doors and pull out chairs, thriving on how they blush and bite their lip— evidently thinking: “ah, so this is romance.” they’re so easy to manipulate into falling in love with him, and satoru just can’t help himself.

and then there's you.

innocent and uncorrupted, you always have a smile and a kind word for everyone you encounter. whether your kindness is more than superficial or only skin-deep, satoru doesn't know; he doesn't care to find out. you'll do nicely for his next catch, he thinks to himself as he flashes a dazzling smile your way, chuckling as you reciprocate the act.

he’ll hold himself back when he has his arm around your waist on your first outing together, the gesture gentle and plenty chaste, restraining the hands that yearn to wander. when he leans across to the passenger seat of his car where you sit timidly with your legs neatly pressed together, he waits until your breath hitches, until he can smell the shampoo scent from your hair, then ducks his head to the side to press his lips to your cheek with a smile. he makes you feel like a high schooler again.

he’ll roll down his window as he watches you skip to your front door, waving goodbye excitedly once you turn around to see him off. he observes the flush on your cheeks and dreamy eyed expression you wear and understands that he's caught you— hook, line, and sinker. he knows he’s got you right where he wants you; he can barely wait to reap the fruits of his hard work.

it's around the third date that he starts getting impatient.

gojo satoru's not one to persevere needlessly or expend more than minimum effort, so the fact that you shyly avoid his advances is displeasing to him. he's done everything on his usual checklist: he's complimented you excessively, smiled charmingly as you became flustered, paid for everything, brought you flowers— so what was the problem? you continue to shuffle away from the hand placed tenderly on your thigh and always pull away from a kiss once it began to deepen.

it's tempting to give up, but satoru figures that the chase is half of the fun.

this time, as he drives you to your apartment, he asks if there's somewhere he can park. you fiddle with your fingers in your lap as you reply that you're not sure there's anywhere free— yet he responds with another display of his wealth.

"well, i'll just pay off whoever's space this is. i'm sure they won't mind."

he pulls in smoothly and parks his car, turning to you with a characteristically irresistible smirk.

"thank you for tonight." you beam at him, collecting your things and readying yourself to leave. "i really enjoyed myself, satoru."

"glad to hear it, baby. you know i love to spoil you."

you steady your nerves and lean in to meet satoru halfway, this being the first time you've initiated a kiss— you press your lips to his briefly, then gaze at him for a moment, an endeared smile quirking up the corners of your mouth before pulling away and reaching for the car door.

"well, goodnight—"

suddenly satoru is there, opening the car door for you and offering a hand to help you stand up.

"i can't let a pretty baby such as yourself go unaccompanied, right? let me walk you to your door to make sure you're safe."

you're immediately bashful, your gaze dropping to the floor as you take his hand and get out of the car— (right now, satoru envisages your thoughts to be centred around what a gentleman he is).

"thank you, satoru. you're honestly too kind." you feel your cheeks heat up as you lead him by the hand to the elevator of your apartment building and press the button, turning to him with a sort of dazed smile— you worry that he can see the imaginary love hearts floating around your head. he encases your hand in his, his much longer digits wrapping around yours.

"look at how small your hands are compared to mine," satoru muses out loud, his other hand coming up to caress the hair framing your face as the elevator doors close, "but then again, you're tiny in general."

"i'm not that—" you go to protest, but you trail off as you feel your back hit the wall and look up to find satoru looming over you.

"baby, please. sometimes i worry i'm gonna break you." his voice drops an octave as the hand that was by your cheek drops down and drifts to the base of your neck, his fingers closing lightly around it. "more often i think about how i wouldn't mind doing so."

you let out a shaky breath, your nerves evident as your eyes dart to the side to check what floor the numerical display tells you you're at.

"satoru, it's my floor, what if someone—" you stumble over your words, your voice dying away as you wriggle breathlessly out of his grasp while the doors open. you slip away from his form, but he's quick to catch up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind to press your front against your own door.

"satoru—"

"why do you keep pushing me away, huh?" satoru's voice is close to your ear, and you can hear him inhaling your scent deeply.

"i... w-what?" you stutter, feeling your heart rate pick up.

"i know you want it." he states it like it's a fact. "don't think i can't tell, because i can."

"i—" you try to interject, but he's not done.

"even if you don't know you want it, i can tell that your body does. it's craving me, baby, can't you feel it?" his words coincide with a gentle roll of his hips against yours, and oh, you can feel that alright.

"you can feel what you do to me, right? you feel that? it's you. it's all for you, honey."

you swallow heavily, your fingers reaching for your keys clumsily, hyper-aware that anyone could walk past. "i... i'm flattered, i am, i just—" you scramble to get your key in the lock and turn it, pushing open the door and ducking forward to once again slip out of satoru's grasp.

just then, you realise your mistake. in your hurry to avoid the prying eyes of your neighbours, you've just let satoru into your apartment. his smile is hungry as he backs up until you hear the click of your door closing again.

"of course, you're right. i don't wanna share the sight of you with anyone else. you're a smart little one, hm?"

you edge away from him as he grows closer, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it over the couch.

"quit running away from me, baby. or, is this your thing? you like being chased, huh? who would've thought such a sweet little thing would have such dirty—"

"i don't!" you blurt out, your body trembling all of a sudden from anticipation (or is it fear? you're not sure.) "i don't have any things, this isn't— i wouldn't know, i mean, i've never done—"

he's caught you, again, like you're trapped in a game of cat and mouse. his strong hold on your hips pulls you towards him and keeps you there.

"never done this before, huh? go on, i wanna hear you say it." his grin only grows as you squirm in embarrassment.

"you know what i mean, i don't wanna say it..."

satoru cocks his head, his tone somewhat condescending. "but, baby, how am i supposed to know what you're talking about? i'm not a mind reader. use your words."

"i've never... uh..." you shift uncomfortably on your feet, "had... sex." your voice drops to mumble the last word.

he tilts his head back and laughs for a second as you stand there, humiliated, before he brings his face close to yours.

"oh, baby. you're so cute. darling, you think i don't know? it's written all over you."

"... it is?" your face falls, and satoru can't resist cradling your face with his large hand and running his thumb over your cheek affectionately. all of a sudden he spots the open door of your bedroom from behind you and leads you there with your hand in a firm hold before you can realise what's happening. he sits himself down on your bed and pats the spot next to him, but you hesitate. he stares up at you with a glint of something unidentifiable in his irises before he tugs you down onto his lap, arranging your clumsy limbs to straddle him. you gasp and pull back a little in shock, but then you can feel his lips on your neck, trailing wet kisses down onto your collarbone and you feel like you're suffocating.

"i'm scared," you whisper, and satoru hums appreciatively against your skin, before flipping your positions and placing you gently down onto the mattress before climbing over you and caging you in.

"i know, sweetheart." he purrs. "don't you trust me?"

you nod your head quickly. "of course i do! i just.. i don't know if i'm ready to—"

he cuts you off with his lips against yours, hushing you.

"shh, shh, baby. trust me, alright? i'm gonna make you feel so good."

"gojo, please." you squirm and kick your feet a little, suddenly feeling panic course through your veins, and he curses under his breath; you swear you feel him shudder.

"are you saying you don't like me, y/n?" his face falls into a frown, and you feel guilty.

"i do!! i like you, a lot."

"well, this is what adults do when they like each other."

"i know that," you insist, "i'm not stupid, i just..." you're lost for words momentarily, and satoru interjects piercingly.

"if you really liked me, you'd let me do this."

"i do like you." your voice cracks just a little, barely above a whisper as your face crumples.

"do you want to make me happy, honey?"

"yes." you breathe out.

"good." satoru's expression breaks into a soft smile once again. "i know what's best for you, okay? i'd never do anything to harm you, you know that."

"i know that," you repeat quietly.

"you can trust me. i'll take care of you, little one." his thumb swipes tenderly across your bottom lip, before slipping into the cavern of your mouth and pressing down on your velvety tongue. you close your eyes momentarily, soothed by his tone— you've stopped squirming by now.

"good girl. you don't need to worry about anything, alright? don't go stressing your pretty little head, just keep it nice and empty for me. i'll take care of everything."

you find yourself nodding at his words, feeling compelled to do as the older man says and to trust him.

his lips are making their way down your neck again, taking longer this time as he sucks marks into your pristine skin, nipping with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. he's impatient to remove your clothing, gently prompting with "arms up for me, precious," and "lift your hips... attagirl." you whine in embarrassment as your arms reflexively come up to cover your chest. satoru tuts in displeasure, easily pinning your arms to your sides and chastising you. "ah-ah, don't you hide from me. i want to see all of you."

you fidget, but obediently keep your arms down once satoru releases his grip on them, turning your head away as your cheeks heat up even further. he pulls his own shirt off over head before rejoining you on the bed.

"you're so pretty." he praises, cupping your chest in his large hands and kneading gently, looking up at your face as he presses kisses all over, his tongue circling your pebbled nipple before he takes it into his mouth, causing your back to arch, pressing yourself more onto his face. he releases you with a lewd pop, and you feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he moves to give the same treatment to the other side. your body shifts underneath him, and you let a small moan escape your parted lips. satoru smirks, satisfied with his handiwork, and continues his trail down onto your tummy.

"it tickles." you breathe out, giggling breathlessly at the sensation.

"yeah?" his smirk grows into a smile. "what tickles, this?" he licks a stripe across your skin, and you wriggle, your hands coming to try to push him away by his shoulders in vain.

satoru chuckles too, and you don't realise that he's edged further down until you feel pressure against your clothed core, a gasp interrupting your mirth. your thighs involuntarily attempt to close, but it proves futile considering satoru's presence and the fact that he's using his palms to hold your legs apart.

"these are sweet." he traces a finger along the hem of the white lace panties you're wearing. "did you wear 'em for me? no need to be shy, lovely. you really did want this all along, right?"

you go to speak, but find yourself choking on a whine instead as you feel something warm and wet contact your heat over your panties, satoru's saliva soaking the fabric.

"i can smell how much you want it, baby." he inhales deeply, before hooking his fingers underneath the fabric and ripping it, drawing a yelp from you, before peeling away the flimsy material to expose you.

"oh, look at you. you're so cute, darling." he licks his middle finger before gently drawing it through your folds. your hips jerk at the brief contact with your clit as satoru repeats the motion a second time. "and so sensitive, too." he spreads your lips with his thumbs, then dives in to lick a straight line across your entrance, lapping at your clit.

your whole body seizes up, and your thighs squeeze tight around satoru’s head— it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, all warm and wet and so good.

“feels good, huh?” his tone is cocky as his left hand snakes up to push down on your tummy, keeping you down. “try not to squirm so much, angel. can you do that for me?”

you nod instantly, stuttering out your apologies and lying back down, trying and failing to calm the rapid rising and falling of your chest as you attempt to breathe. satoru dips his head back level with your core again, and the languid strokes of his tongue have your muscles clenching— once he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, you practically squeal. the combination of his skilled tongue and his fingertips rubbing over your entrance have a coil building up somewhere below your stomach, tighter and tighter until—

“wh- why did you stop?” you whine in protest, but it quickly turns into a whimper as you feel his finger entering you. it’s long and slender, and when it crooks up to rub against you, your legs kick involuntarily. “sorry—” you gasp out, wincing a little as you feel a second finger breach your entrance, stretching you out too soon. “ow, satoru—”

“hush, baby, it’ll feel good soon.” the way he dismisses your pained whimpers makes you feel like a scolded child, and your eyes glass over with sudden tears. satoru doesn't notice, as he's preoccupied with hauling you back towards him from where you've squirmed up the bed and curling his fingers together to hit the spot that makes your hips jump despite your watery eyes. he glances up briefly, but doesn't take much notice of your expression. "aw, don't cry, honey. if you can't take my fingers, i don't know how you're gonna take my cock. you're so tight..." he trails off, circling your clit with his thumb. once your sniffles quiet down and gradually turn into moans, he attempts squeezing in a third finger, which you don't take well to, and the tears start anew. satoru sighs exasperatedly and stills his fingers momentarily to shift himself back up to where your face is.

"oh, baby. does it hurt? you probably can't reach this spot with your little fingers, right? need me to do it for you, huh?"

you hiccup and open your eyes to meet his lustful gaze. he makes a condescending, sympathetic noise, pouting a little to match your expression and leaning down to press his lips to yours, but he can't hide his smile.

"i promise, it'll feel amazing once you relax. y'know, not all guys would be this considerate and stretch you out real nice like i am. you're worth it though, princess. you're lucky you're losing your virginity to a good guy like me." he grins, leaning in and kissing you messily to keep you quiet while his fingers pick up speed. he can feel you writhing beneath him, but he easily overpowers you, holding you in place while your muffled moans rise in volume.

he pulls back a little for breath and revels in how loud you whine for him.

"wanna come, baby?"

you're speechless, eyes shut tight and mouth wide open, and you're only able to nod.

"you want to? say please. beg me to make you come."

"p-lease, please, i wanna—"

satoru tuts and cocks his head at you. "can't understand you, sweetheart." he makes his voice high pitched and whiney to mock you, "'please, please', please what? ask me properly."

"i wanna come! please, make me, fuck— i'm—" you squeal, your movements and rapidly clenching walls betraying the fact that the coil in your tummy already snapped.

in a second, you're empty, left trying to calm your breathing rate as you hear the sound of a zipper being undone and see satoru pushing down his slacks and boxers. his cock slaps up against his toned stomach, now free from its restraints, and it's huge. you're intimidated, trying to pull yourself up on your elbows and away, but your jelly limbs betray you. satoru can easily hook his arms underneath your thighs, pulling you to him as your hands scrabble for grip on the sheets.

"wait, you're— now? wait, satoru—" every word is laced with a fearful whine, and you're sure that that certainly won't fit in you. "i can't, it won't—"

"you can and it will." satoru cuts off your rambling simply, using a strong arm to push your knees up to your chest to put you in a mating press while he spits on his other hand and wraps it around his cock, slicking it up with a groan. it suddenly occurs to you that he hasn't touched himself this whole time, and if the angry redness of his tip isn't enough to go on, the almost feral eagerness in his eyes tells you that he's not gonna go easy on you. you feel the head of his cock lined up with your entrance, rubbing against your oversensitive clit, and tear up preemptively.

"don't worry, sweetheart, you'll take it all. even if i have to make you."

and it hurts when he pushes in. he keeps going and going, and you're sure you're going to split in half, thrashing aimlessly as you wail.

"oh, god. fuck, baby. you're so fucking tight, try and relax a little, let me in."

and there's still more.

"please, i ca-an't, it hurts! it hurts, it hurts—" your words are interrupted by your sobs, your hands reaching to claw at satoru's bicep, trying fruitlessly to get him to let up for just a second.

"shh, baby, shh, you're almost there! just a little more and you've done it, sweetheart. quit running— i know you can take it, 'cause you're my good girl, right? c'mon, precious, you feel so good. i know it hurts, but just— fuck— take it."

and so you do. you dig your nails into his skin and cry until he's fully seated in you.

"good girl, good girl. you did it! shh, stop crying, i'm all the way in. i'm so proud of you, my best girl." satoru shivers as he praises you, feeling you clench around him.

that one phrase pulls you out of your head, blinking through your tears and sniffling as you stare up at him. "you're... proud of me?"

satoru smiles, looking almost amused, and you don't notice the malicious glimmer in his eyes as he nods and reassures you, using his free hand to push your hair back from your face. you're sure it's a mess of tears, snot, and drool, but he looks at you like you're the prettiest work of art he's ever seen— his work of art, his creation.

and to you, quite frankly, he looks like a god. his hair's pushed back, his smooth skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his muscles taut, and though he's the source of the throbbing pain in your gut, his eyes are gazing lovingly down at you. satoru swears he sees the stars swimming around in your irises.

"feel better?" he asks gently after a while of stillness, slowly pulling out of you until just the head of his cock remains inside you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you nod, because the stinging pain has now reduced to a dull ache. "good job, little one. now, let me make you feel good."

his hips begin to piston, slowly at first, so you feel the drag of his cock against your velvety walls. when he gradually speeds up, the combination of the stretch and sensitivity from your previous orgasm has you creaming on his cock almost instantly as your eyes roll back, a ring of milky white mixing with the blood from your deflowering as you twitch beneath him.

"fuck." he groans, his grip on your knees tightening as the power behind his thrusts increases, driving you into overstimulation. "your pussy hugs me so good, shit. the best i've had in a while, might have to keep you around. you want that, honey? you wanna be my toy for a while?"

you're not coherent enough to give a real answer, your whole body moving with the force of each thrust, tits and thighs jiggling while you try to muster a nod.

satoru breathes out a laugh. "i think that's a yes." he lets your legs fall from your chest and out to each side of you, giving him free access to pinch your nipples or rub your clit. you spasm each time he does, too fucked out to resist the overstimulation, so instead you just cry his name and clutch onto his wrist with a weak grip.

"satoru, fuck— love you..." your words are all jumbled up, but satoru picks up on what you slur out.

"you love me? aw, precious. i love you too." you don't quite pick up on his somewhat mocking tone, and your reddened lips curve into a dumb smile, that same dumb smile that satoru noticed the first time he saw you on campus. "if you love me, you'll let me come inside, right?"

even if you opposed him (which, of course, you didn't), it would've been too late; through your mindless haze you feel him filling you up, feel his hips stutter and slow and his heavy breaths as he stays snug inside you.

"i mean, fuck, baby." satoru uses the last of his effort to switch your positions around, cradling you as he sits up groggily and shifts, with you in his lap, to lay his head on your pillow with you settled on top of him.

"you alright, honey? you in there?" he looks down at you, drooling on his chest with a blissed-out expression on your features. your eyelids flutter open for a moment before closing again, and you give a pleased hum.

satoru sighs contentedly, petting your hair tenderly. "man, you really gave me a hard time in the beginning, but look at you now. all stupid for me, huh? did i fuck you dumb, baby? is there anything at all in that little head of yours?" he taps your forehead lightly to no response, realising that your exhausted body has finally given in to sleep.

"i feel a little guilty, actually." satoru muses quietly as he closes his eyes. "i reckon i've ruined you for other guys. moulded you to the shape of my cock, heh. i don't think anyone's gonna want my sloppy seconds, babydoll. but, don't you worry. i'm keeping you around for a while."

or at least, that's what he promises in his post-orgasmic euphoria. in truth, he doesn't have the attention span for any sort of commitment; after all, who would play with a toy after it's broken? so he'll keep you warming his bed until the next pretty young thing wandering around campus catches his eye, a shiny new toy to add to his collection, and the cycle will start all over again.

what can he say? there are some bad habits you just can't quit.

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he���s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. ��Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

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

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong. 

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further 

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle. 

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did 

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed 

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out. 

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one 

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art" 

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on 

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine 

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[jay-and-dean]

Sweat and Dirt and Cum

Demon Dean x Reader

Summary : Calling Demon Dean because you miss Dean... Bad bad idea.

Warnings : SMUT (yeah you read the title), like kinda dark (it’s Deanmon !), hair pulling, Dom!Deanmon, total marking kink, mh... blood ? A hint of dirty talk and anal play ? I think that’s it. Swearing of f*cking course.

Note :  This is my part of @holylulusworld​‘s 11k Celebration. I know it’s a big drabble... I promised you a round 3 Lulu... I wasn’t kidding. Congratulation again.

Also this is my first Demon Dean fic.

Wordcount : 1.2k

My MASTERLIST

——————————————————————

Tugging at the too short dress of your angel costume, you shiver. The night is cold and, out here on that parking lot, you can barely hear the loud music playing inside of the bar so no one would hear you call.

“That was a bad idea” you mutter to yourself, licking the liquor on your lips and looking in the dark surrounding you in a mix of fear and excitement. “Bad… bad idea.”

It was the worst idea indeed.

You Miss Dean painfully, yes… But he is not himself anymore, he is not your boyfriend. He is the monster he always fought now. And he proved it when he abandoned you, like Sammy, with that stupid note : “Let me go.”

“An angel, Y/n… Really ?” a voice makes you jump and your phone falls on the floor in a cracking sound that makes you hiss.

Then your eyes eagerly search the shadows behind the reach of the pallid street light above your head. Your body is shaking and a cold drop of sweat is running down your spine.

Dean is dangerous, a trained killer with torture skills. You never really thought of it when he was human, because he was a good man, but now, he’s a knight of Hell. And you texted him your location…

“Where are you ?” you ask shakily, not knowing in which direction to talk.

A shadow moves, black on black, and his silhouette tears itself away from the dark, entering the street light.

Your body shivers, your stomach is hurting with terror, but every cell of your body is screaming for him. Your love, your obsession, everything you have been missing for the pass months.

“You didn’t invite me to your little Halloween party… Angel” he smirks with an expression on his perfect face that you never knew before.

“Why would I ?” you say, trying to swallow the tears in your trembling voice. “You left.”

“So why did you call ?” his eyes turn black.

That’s when you notice the blood on his sleeves, the blood on his shoes, fresh… Everywhere.

“Oh God…” you let out a terrified sob. “What were you doing…”

“Angel, why did you call ?” he insists, taking a few steps closer that look totally threatening.

“I don’t know” you cry, honest. “I was at that party and drank a little and…”

Now standing in front of you, he lets his hands gently go up your naked arms, and touch, with the tip of his bloody fingers, the feathers of the white wings you’re carrying in your back. You sigh at his touch, tears still rolling down your face.

You missed him so much, and you need him like crazy, so you lean on his caress, ignoring the pitch black monstrosity in his eyes.

But all of sudden, his hand fists your hair brutally, making your head go back in a pained gasp.

“Why. Did. You. Call” he groans, closer to your ear.

“I…” you sob with no more tears, but his strong arm tugs even harder at your hair, so much that it hurts your neck. “I MISS YOU !” you finally let out in a desperate scream.

“Oh I miss you too Angel” he chuckles darkly, his tongue darting out to lick at your neck. “Put your little hand on my cock and feel how much” you don’t really move. “Hand on my cock, now.”

Not able to look down because of how hard he’s holding your hair, you let your hesitant hand grab his crotch, and feel liquid fill your panties.

“On my cock, Angel, not on my jeans” he groans, biting your pulse point hard with his perfect sharp teeth.

You cry out, tugging at your own hair to get free of his cruel grip, but he won’t let go.

“Dean…” you whimper, torn, scared and needy. “Stop those games, take me please… I miss us…”

A dreadful laugh comes out of his chest.

“How fucking desperate” he mocks you, his other hand playfully spreading blood on your cleavage.

You open his belt with trembling hands, push the zipper down and slip inside of his pants, finding no underwear, only his hard cock pushing at the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Dean…” you moan, your walls clenching around nothing, again and again, begging for him.

“Make me want it, Angel” he smirks, forcing your mouth open with his bloody hand to lick inside it.

You start pumping his length, moaning at the feeling of his veins and silky skin, going down to his balls occasionally. He groans in your neck sucking a hickey somewhere it can’t be hidden.

“More” he orders as he crushes you against the cold and soot darken wall behind you.

Your neck still slightly angled back, you close your eyes, trying to ignore the blood on him and the pain in your scalp, to focus on the smell of Dean, his skin, and everything you ever loved. Your other hand joins the one working to focus on the head of his twitching cock.

“Fuck yes” he moans. “You want me that bad, you’re pathetic.”

When he lets go of your hair, you gasp in relief, the burning feeling wetting your eyes.

He turns you, crushing your face on the tiles, and once again your inner walls throb in anticipation. His hand roughly cups your sex.

“I feel you fucking clench through your panties !” his bloody fingers start rubbing from your entrance to your clit harshly, sending your craving body close to the edge already. You can feel his nails scratch the wet fabric against your swollen clit and you know you’re soaking his hand.

“Please…” you whine, panting with your face against the dirty wall.

A cold feeling on your butt makes you look back and you jump in sudden fear. The First Blade.

“Sh… I won’t kill you, Angel” he lets out with a vicious chuckle. “I want you alive…” the blade cuts your panties easily, and they fall at your ankles. “I want you to walk back in that Halloween shit” his fingers come back to your folds, spreading your wetness from your aching clit to your asshole. “And I want you to walk funny when you look for my brother” his fingers tease your entrance and you try not to think of who’s blood it is on it. “Your pretty wings and dress all bloody, skin bruised and covered in hickeys” he moves to tease your other hole, making it pulsate under his expert fingers. “All filthy with sweat and dirt and cum.”

With that, and without any other warning, he bends you more and pushes his so desired cock inside of you in a sharp and brutal thrust that makes you cry out loudly.

“W-wait…” you gasp, needing a second to adjust. “D-dean.”

His face comes closer to yours, eyes flashing black again. Your thighs shake hard as you try to delay the orgasm already threatening to crush you.

“There is no waiting” he thrusts again so hard your body bangs on the dusty wall, a feral growl makes his chest vibrate on your back. “You take me, Angel. You take me everywhere and in every ways, then you can sit in my car, dripping on the seats while Sammy drives you home.”

_______________________________

FEEDBACK IS MY FUEL

(send an ask if you want to be tagged)

Tags : @parinarain​ @mogaruke​ @masterof-agony​ @rainflowermoon @tftumblin​ @deans-baby-momma​ @roonyxx​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @emeow1496​ @daryldixonandfrogs​ @holylulusworld​  @cocklesbelli​ @sandlee44​ @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx​ @stormchasingchick32​ @akshi8278​ @magssteenkamp​ @sister-winchesters99​ @neii3n​  @lyss-dw79​ @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid​@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj​ @i-love-superhero​ @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks​​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @mrspeacem1nusone​​ @stylesismyhubs​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @jawritter​​ @peridottea91​​ @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart​​ @vicmc624​​ @teresa-67​​ @jessie-michael​​ @doctor-hp-mcu​​ @hawkerz12​​ @mariaenchanted​

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of All Saiyans

-

Masterlist

-

So first things first. I should probably mention that I killed Chi-Chi off before the start of the story. I completely forgot to include it in the notes last chapter. So sorry if there was any confusion there.

Ever since the last chapter, I've been kinda hooked on flashbacks. So there will be another one, this one featuring the man, the myth, the legend, the most ruthless of all the Saiyans King Vegeta. Also, my dumbass finally decided to create a Masterlist. I realized it's much easier than linking chapters individually. 

-

Chapter 7

-

You've been on Planet Namek for approximately two hours, and the day has already been tremendously eventful. You and Vegeta have already had a run-in with Cui, who arrived shortly after you. That purple cretin went out the same way he lived as a spineless coward. Something was extremely satisfying about watching Vegeta drive that failure into the ground. Cui's demise was entirely his own fault. It's common knowledge that Saiyans grow stronger after a near-death experience. Underestimating your brother's growth was an act of pure stupidity.

After that minor inconvenience, the two of you toon into Dodoria's transmission, it sounds like those goons are slaughtering a village of Namekians, so they must store their Dragon Balls in separate settlements. Either that or they're executing them for leisure. Both are feasible possibilities. From what you've been able to gather, Frieza has four Dragon Balls in his possession, and he's currently after his fifth. Frieza even reveals some essential information on how these Namkeian villages operate. Before the signal cuts off entirely. 

Vegeta attempts to find another channel, but they all come up as static. "Those Namekians must be craftier than they look. Something tells me Frieza's scouters are out of commission."

"Perhaps." He turns to you. "Or they figured out we were eavesdropping. Either way, keep your guard up."

The two of you fly around aimlessly. Though you still need to be careful. Frieza is somewhere on this god-forsaken planet, and a run-in with him and his lackeys at the moment would be unfavorable. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot something that catches your attention. " I spy with my little eye an unsightly pink blob."

You direct Vegeta's attention to Dodoria, who has his classic disoriented look on his face. "Good eye." He smirks at you before ambushing Dodoria, knocking him into the water. You appear beside your brother on the shoreline, observing the water intently. 

Two pink hands grasp onto the terrain as he pulls his head up, gasping for air. You both laugh maniacally at the pink creature's stupidity. You swear, after every encounter you have with Dodoria, he somehow gets dumber. "Oh, it's you two." He sounds far from pleased as he pulls himself out of the lake. "What the hell do you want?"

"Mind your manners, Dodoria." You scold him. "No need to be crude."

He scowls at you. "Arrogant Saiyans." He mutters under his breath. "That was a dirty trick Vegeta. Although I wouldn't expect anything less from you monkeys." Dodoria straightens his posture in an attempt to appear more intimidating. Spoiler alert, it doesn't work. "You know I can't just let you get away with blindsiding me." 

Vegeta chuckles, rolling his eyes at the monster. "Oh, really now? Just what do you plan on doing? You're all alone. There's no Zarbon or Frieza for you to cower behind. How unfortunate for you."

"I doubt we'll even have to lift a finger." You shrug. "This should be a piece of cake."

Dodoria chuckles, shifting his gaze between you and Vegeta. "You two really think you can take me? You're both as egotistical as that father of yours, and you know how that ended for him. You Saiyan freaks will never be half the warrior that I am." You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palm. How dare he even mention your father. "Listen, I know neither of you desires to fight me. And I don't particularly want to fight you either. So how about you just give me that scouter, and we can forget this ever happened. That's more than a fair deal. I think I'm actually being quite generous." His tone may be confident, but his body language gives him away. Who knew the pink menace was actually afraid of something. 

"So your presumption was right." Vegeta turns to you. "Those Namekians must have destroyed their scouters. This puts us in an intriguing situation, doesn't it Y/N?" Vegeta removes his scouter, tossing it on the ground. "What are you waiting for, Dodoria? Take it."

He eyes you both skeptically, but he still takes the bait. Critical thinking has never been Dodoria's strong suit. "About time you brats showed me the respect I deserve." As he steps closer, Vegeta stomps on the scouter. The wretched thing, smashing into thousands of worthless pieces.

The pink monstrosity sneers. "No worries. I'll just take the girl's scouter." He speeds toward you, extending a hand in an attempt to rip the device off your face. Before he can even touch you, you grasp his arm, bending it behind his back.

"Why do they always think it's appropriate to get handsy with me?" A breathy sigh escapes your lips. "They'll never learn." You remove your scouter, holding it in the palm of your unoccupied hand. "Since you want it so bad." You snap your scouter in half, discarding the parts to the ground. "You ever think about laying your filthy hands on me again, you'll lose them." You toss the fool several feet away. The farther away he is, the better. 

"Why would you--- it doesn't even matter." He stands back up, dusting himself off. "Now, you won't be able to find the Dragon Balls either."

You shake your head at him, a pleased look crossing your features. "Not exactly. You see, Earth was quite the adventure. We picked up a few new tricks. One that leaves those hunks of metal useless."

Dedoria furrows his brows at you, his entire face contorting. "You're lying."

"I'm afraid she isn't. This energy-sensing technique is quite simple. I doubt any of the members of the elite Frieza Force would be interested, though. It doesn't require much strength, and everyone knows you don't care for anything that doesn't involve flexing your muscles." Dodoria is more fat than muscle. It's an irrelevant technicality, one that would only piss off the blob more. 

"I get it now." He seems to come to some sort of a realization. Only you have no idea what the hell he's referring to. "Those two runts I was chasing were earthlings." You stare at him in disbelief. Is it possible for them to be here? Raditz, he's the only possible explanation. But would he really be dumb enough to lead those weaklings to their deaths?

"W-What did you say?" Vegeta's mouth hangs agape.

"So I'm right. The looks on your faces tell me all I need to know. You're working together."

You combust into a fit of laughter, wiping tears from your eyes. This has to be the funniest thing you've heard all week. "Even if those pests were here. Never in a million years would we align ourselves with those soft-hearted fools."

"You must be mistaken. Even if those earthlings were here, we'd be able to sense them." Now that you think about it. Have you been able to sense them? You haven't been looking, but you have felt some strange energy. You just assumed it was some half-wit from the Frieza Force, but now you're not so sure.

 "It doesn't really matter anyway." He rolls his eyes. "You two are no longer any use to me. So either get lost, or I'll have to finish you off myself."

"Why, how generous of you." The sarcasm practically drips from your voice. "I think he's afraid Vegeta."

"Well, can you blame him? His scouter probably told him everything he needed to know. He must have seen my battle with Cui." For every step Vegeta takes forward, Dodoria takes another backward. "He must have seen how much stronger I've become."

"That isn't possible." He scoffs. "Those numbers were inaccurate, and I'll prove it!" He shoots an uncontrollable blast of fire at you both, which you simply dodge by stepping out of the line of fire.

"Was that really the best you could do?" You mock. It was sloppy even for an attack from Dodoria.

He turns around, only to be met with the two of you behind him, floating in the air. Vegeta swiftly moves behind him, grabbing both of his arms, twisting them behind his back. You swear you even heard them snap. "Look how weak you are." Vegeta sneers. "I'm stronger than I've ever been. While you've been sitting on your ass all-day, becoming soft and lazy. I should just end your pitiful life here."

"Wait, Vegeta!" He cries. "I have something to tell you! Something you'll really want to know! It's about your homeworld. I know the truth about Planet Vegeta!" Does that pink blob actually believe he has a form of leverage? What a fool.

"What could you possibly know about Planet Vegeta? You better start talking!" You furrow your brows at your brother. He's behaving strangely. And why is he humoring Dodoria in the first place? Vegeta has to already know about what they did to your homeworld.

"I will, but first, you have to let me go." Vegeta releases Dodoria from his death grip, pushing him away.

"Now, spit it out!" You observe the pair from a safe distance. Vegeta's response is bizarre, and his body language seems to have no ulterior motives. Is it possible that Vegeta doesn't know? You grab your forehead, running a hand through your hair. If that's the case, Vegeta is going to fucking kill you.

"As you know, Planet Vegeta was destroyed, but it wasn't by a meteor. Lord Frieza had started to notice numerous Saiyan babies being born with extraordinary combat skills. You two were the most notable in power. He realized that you Saiyans could really be a problem. You had the potential of becoming a real bother to Lord Frieza's regime. So he decided to wipe out the only race that could ever impose him before they could even become an issue. He destroyed Planet Vegeta with every last Saiyan on it. Well, except for you two. Did you really think it was a coincidence that you were off-planet? So there it is, you two are finally in on our little joke."

You've always known what happened to your planet. But now you've learned the answer to an even more substantial question, why it occurred. Frieza was afraid. He decided to take the coward's way out. How pathetic. 

You laugh, tilting your head backward. "That was your big ploy? I've known about that for years!" Before he can even react, you teleport behind him, impaling your hand through his chest, watching the purple goop ooze out of him. "How stupid did you think we were?" You twist your hand, tossing his lifeless body to the ground before obliterating anything left of him.

Vegeta stares at you in shock. "You knew?"

You raise a brow at him. "You didn't?" You always assumed that it was one of those things that you both knew but never spoke off. Turns out you were mistaken.

The two of you stand in silence. You have no idea what the protocol is for this. You don't know what you're supposed to say. Vegeta looks away, sighing. "It's irrelevant now. It was probably for the best that I was left in ignorance. Who knows what I would've done as a child. I'm just annoyed that you were able to figure it out before me."

You smile at him. Besting Vegeta is not something that comes easily. So you'll take what you can get. "You know, I don't think he was wrong about the earthlings."

"You think they're here?"

You nod. "You gotta remember. Raditz is with them now."

"Good point. When I get my hands on that pathetic excuse for a Saiyan, he'll regret ever betraying us. Let's go. We can't be out in the open for too long."

He hovers in the air, beginning to take off. "Vegeta." He turns back, meeting your gaze. "You know I would've told you, right?"

"I know---" He cuts himself off, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. "Do you sense that?" You nod, taking off in the direction of the two large power sources. Dodoria had mentioned that they were runts. So one of them has to be the half-breed and possibly the bald fellow. Your eyes scan over the terrain. They have to be around here somewhere. "They must be suppressing their power levels. Only if I still had my damn scouter. I'm not used to this technique just yet."

Bingo. You found them hiding between a few boulders. And your assumptions were right. There's only a slight difference. They seem to be accompanied by a Namkian child. A sadistic grin spreads across your face as their gazes land on you. Just the way you remember them, cowering in fear due to your presence. "You know. It was probably just three insignificant insects." You're not wrong. That's all they are to you. Pesky flies that invade your personal space and make your life slightly more irritating.

"You're right. We don't have time for this anyway. Let's get a move on." You both take off, leaving the earthling issue for another time.

It took you awhile, but you finally located a Namkeian village. Well, actually, you passed several, but this is the only one with a living population. "Looks like we found ourselves a Dragon Ball." Vegeta's lips twist into a sly grin, heading straight into the village. You follow his lead, now standing directly beside him. You've finally gained the attention of the inhabitants, who are now murmuring to each other. Who knew Namekians were such gossips. Their chatter dies down the second Vegeta clears his throat. "I wish to speak to your elder. I believe there is a Dragon Ball here, that we'll be graciously taking off your hands."

"I'm the village elder." An older Namkain steps up. These creatures do not age kindly. "I would ask you what your intentions are, but I can already feel that you are impure. I sense an unspeakable evil in both of you. Neither of you is worthy." What a self-righteous species. They're entirely different from that Namekian you encountered on Earth.

Vegeta shakes his head, chuckling to himself. Only if the Namekians cooperated, Vegeta has never taken the word no very well. "Then you die. Y/N, you do the honors." This could've ended smoothly, with a lot less bloodshed. Too bad for them.

"You got it, Vegeta." You hold up a finger gun, pointing it straight at the elder. "Bang!" A beam of blue light heads straight for the geezer before another Namkian jumps in front of him, absorbing the blast entirely. The body drops to the ground, and all hell breaks loose. 

You begin the slaughter, ending the lives of several Namkeians. Until you freeze, as much as you've been itching for a fight, you're reminded of something far more crucial that you have to fulfill. Damn your morals. They're ruining all your fun. You take one last glance at your brother. These Namekians should keep him occupied for some time. He might not even notice that you ever left. As soon as he turns away from you, you take off, successfully staying off of Vegeta's radar. 

You use your newly acquired energy-sensing technique to track down that Namekian child. Since those earthlings are suppressing their energy, they'll be much more difficult to find. This is assuming he's still with them. Those earthlings aren't like you. Neither of them would be able to stomach, leaving him for dead.

You pinpoint the energy source to a cave. What a strange place for them to reside in. You head into the cavern, only to find some form of futuristic architecture. How the hell did this get here? And what is Capsule Corp? You move toward the door, banging on it. "Knock, knock. Oh, little piglets, let me in! Before I knock the door down. Or worse." You can overhear faint whispering on the other side, mixed with a woman obnoxiously shrieking. "I can hear you panicking. Relax, I have no business with the half-breed, the Namekian child, or any earthlings in there. Now open the damn door."

The door slowly opens, revealing the bald man, whose name you believe to be Krillin. "What do you want, Y/N?"

"I need to speak to Raditz. It's urgent."

"Well, you can't---" Krillin gets pushed to the ground by none other than the infamous Hair Boy himself. This allows you to step inside the building. It must be some sort of luxury living quarters. 

The two of you stand arm's length from each other, matching cold expressions on your faces. "You here to kill me?"

"No." The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Well, at least not yet."

"So why are you here?" His face twists in confusion. "You aren't one to just drop in and say hi."

You take a deep breath, glancing around the room. This would be difficult to say one-on-one, but being surrounded by people makes it ten times worse. "There's something--- I need to tell you."

An arrogant smirk appears on his lips. "What? Did you finally fall for my good looks and charm? Are you finally declaring that you've fallen hopelessly in love with me?"

Your face scrunches up in disgust. "Don't make me ill." That would never happen, even if he was the last male Saiayn in existence, which he pretty much is. "I'm here to tell you the truth about what occurred on Planet Vegeta."

"What are you talking about?" Raditz eyebrows knit together. "A meteor wiped out our people."

You sigh, glancing at the ceiling. "Come on, Raditz. You're a lot of things, but you aren't stupid. There was no meteor. Even if there was one, our people could fly."

"What are you trying to say?" he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to shield himself from the inevitable blow.

"Our people were exterminated by that imperialistic dictator." Your voice booms. You're not even attempting to conceal your anger.

Raditz clenches his fists, his hands violently shaking. All he can think about is his mother, how she deserved better. The majority of your people deserved what they got, but not Gine. She was different. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Raditz always knew there was no meteor. The story was too perfect, and it was easier to believe that it was a tragedy. "Why?" That was all he could manage to choke out. Did Raditz really want to know? Would he be able to handle the truth? 

The others in the room remain silent, observing you anxiously. You're even more terrifying than they believed. You're not joking around or aloof this time. You're only expressing one thing, pure rage. So you do care about something. Whether you desire vengeance or truly cared for your people is unclear to the earthlings.

"Frieza was terrified. Our people were getting too strong for his liking. The Saiyan population was skyrocketing due to technological advancements. He was scared of what we could accomplish, terrified of the possibility that he could be out-ranked."

A Cheshire grin appears on Raditz's face. "We'll prove to him that he was right to fear us, right?"

"You bet your ass we will. We'll make Frieza regret leaving us alive." You take a deep breath, finally attempting to get your emotions in check, returning to your cold demeanor. "I just thought you should know. Before I killed him, Dodoria let the cat out of the bag to Vegeta."

"You killed that pink asshole? It was about time. How'd it feel?" The other stare at you two in bewilderment. Two seconds ago, you were swearing revenge, and now you're as casual as can be.

"It was extremely satisfying sending that pink blob straight to hell." You purse your lips together, cracking your neck. I should get back before Vegeta blows a fuse." You move to the doorway, stopping dead in your tracks. "Oh, ya one, last thing. Frieza's here."

"We know his men are here. We've already had the pleasure of encountering the Frieza Force."

"Raditz, I'm afraid you don't understand. It's not just his minions. He's here on Namek." Raditz chokes on air, his eyes popping out. You slam the door shut, hearing Raditz's reaction through the walls. The phrases we're so fucked, and we're all gonna die were your favorites of his elaborate babbling. You take off, heading back in the direction you came from.

As you near the location of the village, you quickly realize there is no point in returning. You can't sense any life, and that includes Vegeta. So this means he knows you ran off. You were due for one of his famous lectures anyway. Hopefully, he's not wasting his time searching for you. That would only make your predicament worse. 

You search in every direction, finally detecting your brother's energy to the west. Vegeta's power level is diminishing at an alarming rate. Maybe he's run into Zarbon or worse, Frieza. You take off at light speed, heading straight for the battleground.

Once you arrive, you conceal yourself behind a hill, observing the battle intently. It appears that Vegeta is fighting Zarbon, but something is off about the narcissist. His chest seems broader than it usually is. 

Zarbon turns around, your eyes widening at the ghastly sight. What the fuck happened to his face? He has to be the most hideous creature you've ever laid your eyes on, and there's a lot of competition for that category. This must be an alternate form of his, similar to your Great Ape form. It doesn't surprise you that you've never seen his transformation before. Even though it considerably increases his strength, his vanity has no limit. 

The green-haired egomaniac slams your brother into the ground, creating a blazing explosion. He stares down into the water-filled crater, and Vegeta is nowhere to be found. Your brother has gotten especially good at playing dead as of recent.

Zarbon reverts back into his base form, flying off into the distance. You wait an appropriate amount of time before heading toward the teal mass of water. You scan the lake, searching for your brother. He surfaces back up seconds later, desperately gasping for air. You extend a hand to Vegeta, pulling him onto land. 

He takes a few moments to collect himself before glaring daggers at you. "Where the--- hell did you run off to?" Despite being winded, he manages to find the breath to shout at you.

"I sensed some members of the Frieza Force. Thought I'd say hello." Believable lies are your specialty at this point.

"You can't---" He stops himself, his features softening at your expression. "Just never do that again. No more running off, especially without telling me. I'm serious this time. With Freiza here, I don't want you leaving my side again."

You can feel a familiar power level rapidly approaching, Zarbon's returning. "Change of plans. Go retrieve the Dragon Ball from that Namkian village. I tossed it in the water. I'll take care of the five that Frieza has."

"But, Vegeta." You giggle. "I'm not supposed to leave your side."

He glares at you. "Of course, now you decide to start listening to me. There is no reason for both of us to get captured. Now go!" You move to camouflage yourself again. Zarbon must need Vegeta for something. They most likely found the decimated village and want to question him about the location of the orb.

You watch Zarbon pick up your brother, who's pretending to be unconscious, and he flys away. You wait till you can no longer see Zarbon before speeding off to the Namekian village. Your plan is to retrieve the sphere and then take shelter somewhere. That is until you can sense Vegeta again.

You land in the ruins that were once the Namekian village. Damn Vegeta, did a lot of damage here. Your head snaps to the water. You swear you heard a splashing noise, and it couldn't have been a sea creature. If it was, the sound would've been louder. So what is it? Could it be one of Freiza's goons? If it is, they're probably weak. You'd be able to take them out with ease.

The creature emerges from the water with the four-star ball in his hands. He's a tiny little thing, way too small to be anyone currently in the Frieza Force. Something about the runt seems vaguely familiar. Wait a minute, that's Kakarot's brat. His hair's just shorter than it used to be. Half breeds must be able to change the length and style of their hair, fascinating. 

You sneak behind him with a blank look on your face. "What do you think you're doing, brat?"

Gohan jumps, turning around. "Y/N?" He shrieks, dropping the orb, which you swiftly catch one-handed. He looks around, anxiously searching for something or possibly someone. "Where's Vegeta?" His voice trembles just at saying your brother's name alone. Vegeta must have left quite the impression.

"Vegeta got himself---" You can feel Zarbon's impending presence once again, and the look on the brat's face tells you he can sense it too. This energy-sensing technique is becoming quite tedious, but you suppose it's better than being blindsided. What could Zarbon possibly want now? He already took Vegeta. Maybe he came to search for the Dragon Ball himself? Shit, you can't stay out in the open like this. You grab Gohan in one arm. And the four-starred ball in the other, rushing into a nearby cave. As an extra precaution, you seal the entrance with a boulder. Zarbon may be vain, but he's also significantly brighter than Dodoria was. Though that isn't very hard to do. 

You put a finger up to your lips, signaling for Gohan to keep quiet. The foot-steps outside grow louder. He must be standing right outside the cave by now. "Where are you, Vegeta?" He sounds deranged. So Vegeta did escape. Your best guess for Zarbon's erratic behavior is that Vegeta's prison break put Zarbon in hot water with Frieza. "Lord Frieza is going to have my head if I don't retrieve those Dragon Balls." Your insane brother actually did it. He stole the Dragon Balls from right under Frieza's nose. You're father's probably smiling up from hell as we speak.

You slide against the cave wall, dropping to the ground, leaning your head against the rock. You both might be here for a while. Zarbon is quite thorough with his searches. If he were to find you, it would put you in a tricky situation, especially with a Dragon Ball in your possession.

Gohan walks over to you, sitting down across from you. "Who is that?" Even though he's whispering, he's still being too loud for your liking."

"It's Zarbon. Now be quiet." You cover the orange ball in dirt and moss. If Zarbon does find you, the orb will be hidden in plain sight. Once finished with your little project, you shut your eyes. It's almost like you're alone. And not trapped in an enclosed space with your opposition's son.

"Y/N?" Your eyes snap open, immediately narrowing at the boy. You were about to reprimand him, but that was until you noticed the item in his hands. Your features soften as he extends the necklace to you.

You accept the necklace, grasping it tightly in your hands. "Thanks." A slight smile ghosts your lips before quickly vanishing.

"I was just returning what was yours." He looks at you, nervously twiddling his thumbs. "Hey Y/N? Where did you get that necklace from?" You hold up the jewelry, swinging the chain back and forth, getting lost in the memory.

Twenty-something years ago:

You're sitting down on your bed, with a book placed in your hands. Your gaze scans carefully over each word, occasionally flicking your wrist to flip the page. This is the newest piece of literature in your vast collection. You've only had this book for a few weeks. Vegeta gave it to you when he and Nappa returned from a mission off-planet. The book is all about these things called wish orbs. If you gather all seven, you can be granted all sorts of magical wishes. Vegeta says they're nothing more than a fairytale. That it's childish to believe in such an absurd concept, but you're convinced they exist. You've definitely seen stranger things occur, so it's in the realm of possibility for orbs to grant wishes. 

You hadn't even noticed that your father had entered your room. Until he was standing directly in front of you. Panic overtakes your body, your heart beating out of your chest. You slide the book under your comforter, even though it was much too late to hide the evidence. Your reaction may seem a bit extreme, but it's for a good reason. Books aren't necessarily illegal on Planet Vegeta, but they are forbidden. Your father believes that literacy is a waste of time. He considers combat training to be more essential to the prosperity of the Saiyan race.

"Relax." His gruff voice invades your ears. "I already know about the various books you hide around the palace." The king is a very observant man, making it extremely challenging to keep things from him. His general policy regarding situations like this is, he won't say anything unless someone brings it to his attention. Then he would be forced to move his hand, having to find a proper form of punishment.

"Is---Is there something you need?" It's not like him to drop by unannounced. Your father is a very busy man, sometimes you won't even see him for months at a time.

"As you know, you're going on a crucial mission tomorrow. Are you going to behave for your brother?" You nod in agreement. "You are also not to leave his side, do you understand me?" Ever since the incident, you're not allowed off-planet without either your father or Vegeta. One of them has to watch you like a hawk at all times because of one stupid mistake. That will probably be held over your head for the rest of your mortal life.

"Yes, sir." You decide to give him verbal confirmation as well. This way, you can avoid any potential lectures.

"Now, let's get down to business. While I was out on my last excursion. I found this piece of junk with my things. I thought I'd check if you wanted it before I destroyed it." He holds up the necklace. The pendant immediately catches your eye. It's one of the pictures from your book, the four-star wish orb. 

You nod, accepting the gift. You wrap the chain around your wrist, toying with the trinket. You've gotten pretty good at reading between the lines when it comes to your father. Saiyans aren't meant to express their emotions. You're raised to suppress them. Your father picks up on little things, like the fact that you're currently obsessed with wish orbs. You and Vegeta had to have gotten your conflicting behaviors from somewhere. And that somewhere was your father. The King of all Saiyans, the most ruthless of them all, deeply cared for his children.

He places his hands on your shoulders, causing you to look up at him. His eyes flicker with vulnerability as you stare at him. "Listen to me. Vegeta needs you just as much as you need him. You are capable of things that he isn't. And you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You are my sole daughter, the pinnacle of Saiyan pride. Never forget where you came from."

"A-Are you alright? You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, Y/N. Now get to sleep. You have to be up early." He leans down, kissing the top of your head before exiting the room. This only elevates your confusion. Your father has never done that before. Physical affection is not something Saiyan's participate in. At least they aren't supposed to. 

Little did you know, this would be the last time you ever saw your father alive. Looking back on it, as an adult, his strange behavior makes sense. This was his way of saying goodbye. He must have had some inkling about Frieza's plans for your race.

You snap back into reality, shifting your gaze to Gohan. Typically when you spaced out, it would irritate your companions. Maybe it would even earn you a scolding from Vegeta. But the kid has just been sitting there, keenly anticipating your response.

"My father gave it to me." Your tone softens. Nostalgia sometimes does that to you. Gohan is the first person you've ever told the origin of your necklace. It wasn't necessarily a secret. You've just never felt the need to talk about it.

Some Final Notes:

"Wasn't he the king, though? Couldn't he have given you a diamond or gold necklace? Or something fit for royalty?"

"He could have. It was more about the sentiment behind the necklace." And with that, the silence returns. Being in this cave really reminds you of your pod. Scratch that it's worse. The brat is just too nice to the point where it's nauseating. For the half-breed's sake, you hope that Zarbon leaves soon. Because you're not sure how much more of this you'll be able to take.

-

Some Final Notes:

I know some of you might think King Vegeta was a bit out of character. However, I believe King Vegeta did care for his children to an extent. I know there’s some confusion in the fanbase about Tarble, whether he’s canon or not. But since the script for Yo! Son Goku and His Friends Return!!! was a concept created by Akira Toriyama. I personally believe Tarble is cannon. So King Vegeta banishing his son, rather than executing him, does show he had empathy for Tarble, even though he was viewed as a disgrace on his entire bloodline.

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[radarcore]

First Meet

Dr. Woodsworth, a biologist who works at a wildlife rehabilitation center for dragons in a more modern-day, ends up getting the strange task of researching an unknown dragon that is way past the biologist's comfort levels.

Contains: Fearplay, fluff, 'trapped' tiny, like, two mentions of basically vore, dragon giant bc hell yeah L:<, non-binary tiny / giant.

mspaint is a hell to draw with man i didn even bother wit that background anyways hi yes, Orpheus (the giant) is owned by my friend, Bard! This is based on an au we had,,,,yeah >:))) Dr. Woodsworth is my character that i made like, today. Sorry if the ending was cut a bit short, i was rEALLY tryna end it.

Story under cut!

There were three people riding the railways towards Enclosure 7-B. Two well-armored guards, eyes just barely seem behind the glinting visors of their helms, tranquilizer guns tightly clenched, close to their chest. They were standing up, somehow able to keep their balance in the shaky compartment riding the railways. And then there was the scientist, a half-elf, half-pixie sitting down on the seat of the compartment. He had crossed his legs, fiddling with a bike chain fidget as he subconsciously bit his lip. Dr. Woodsworth certainly was no stranger when it came to dragons, unknown species of the (usually) winged reptilian species was his branch of work in the rehabilitation center. But most of the dragons he dealt with within that branch were fae dragons, whom Woodsworth, due to his fae roots, could understand, or rather just smaller dragons overall. But he had been told about…whatever this was. Huge…horns that curled upwards, boney claws with could most *certainly* tear him apart in seconds. He was mentally pacing, desperately trying to think of a way he’d be able to deal with such a beast. …He had been told the dragon could talk, so that brought some relief to him. …And what if he were to have to go inside the enclosure…? Woodsworth didn’t have wings, not anymore, at least…he would be as good as dead if the dragon wanted anything to do with him. The movement suddenly stopped; the compartment let out a pressured hiss. The scientist hadn’t looked up at anything else besides his fidget, but he could hear the guards’ armor shift. Letting out a shaky sigh, Dr. Woodsworth pushed himself up from where he sat, sticking the fidget into his pocket. His legs quivered under the weight. “…Here we go.”

***

As the hallway’s walls turned into glass, Dr. Woodsworth quickly pulled out his circular sunglasses, trying to still adjust his eyes to the sudden light. He didn’t bother to gaze outside, just desperately trying to keep pushing onward and hope things go well. Certainly, when it came to the…least dangerous dragons, things weren’t this technologically advanced, not built to keep whatever monstrosities could lie inside. Gigantic…monstrosities. But suddenly, the guards had stopped. “We’ll stand out here, go inside, there’s a distress button if you’re in need of us.” One of them had lightly tapped Dr. Woodsworth with their supposed tranquilizer gun. “…fuck…” Dr. Woodsworth gulped, and carried on, opening the door… It was a small square room, with four simple buttons and a lever. The middle part of the room was nothing but glass to show the *proper* enclosure inside. It was huge, coated with a thick snow with a somewhat rigid terrain. In the corner was…the dragon. A hulking beast of mostly fur, the claws were even sharper than Woodsworth imagined, the horns even larger, their neck winded like a snake’s. …A skull-like mask to cover the upper head. Dr. Woodsworth sheepishly leaned in towards the microphone that was close to the lever, trying to repeat the same words repeatedly before he pressed on the (supposed) microphone button. “…H-h-h-hello…h-h-hello…good-good-good morning? A-a-afternoon? Fuck…fuck…fuck it.” He slammed down onto the microphone button, choking out, “Good afternoon!” The beast winded their head upward, bending into an S shape as they slowly leaned towards the observatory that Dr. Woodsworth was basically stuck inside. Dr. Woodsworth hyperventilated, slowly backing up as the beast got closer, “Please…please don’t…” As if the beast could hear him now, so far from the microphone. As anyone could come for his aid. Whatever happened now. He wasn’t ready.

.

.

.

“Heyo!” With a soft bonk against the glass, the dragon had responded, gently fluttering their massive wings as they peered at the doctor with interest. Refusing to leave the massive dragon waiting incase of…*something horrid*, Dr. Woodsworth clicked on the button once more, leaning into the mic. “…M-my name is-is…Doctor. Doctor W-Woodsworth. I’ve…come to a-ask some questions…” “Oh, my name’s Orpheus!” Orpheus’ ear flicked, their tail faintly swaying in the distance. “Can I ask a question first though…this place is kinda weird an’ all, so like…” “…G-Go ahead…” He pulled out a clipboard and pen, preparing himself to jot down notes of his ‘interview’. “Well, first off, how long have I’ve been hibernating, *why* am I a dragon, and where’s ghost cat? He’s smaller than me, and he…*also* isn’t a dragon.” Dr. Woodsworth, his finger hovering above the microphone, *how was he supposed to answer those questions?* But there…was something interesting. They weren’t always a dragon…? …Huh…? “…You weren’t always a dragon?” “Oh no!” Orpheus raised a claws,”I was like…uh…I think shorter than you…? I dunno. But my friends called me short. Also I didn’t have these cool wings before too! And now everyone is small too, not just ghost cat! Like you! …But. Uhm…it’s really lonely in here and it’s making me nervous.” Dr. Woodsworth wrote that all down,”…W-well I-I s-suppose we-we can help you g-get adjusted…” He tried ignoring Orpheus’ comment about being lonely. As kind as the dragon seemed…he didn’t want to risk it. “Or…or…we can r-reverse it.” “Oh no! No! I don’t want to reverse this! This is super cool, …um, unless ghost cat is uhm…scared of it, but! …You haven’t answered where ghost cat is…?” As Orpheus’ ears flattened, Dr. Woodsworth’s heart sank. What was he suppose to say…? “…I don’t know.” Orpheus paused,”I…I…” The dragon slowly turned. “W-wait! I’m sure we can think of something! Uh-uh…we-we still n-need to a-ask q-questions…and…” Dr. Woodsworth put his hand to the glass before taking it away, his feelings conflicting. Fuck…what was he supposed to do? The dragon wasn’t talking, but he was coming out with no research whatsoever.

He leaned into the buttons, slammed down on the lever, maybe that could do something…? With a mechanical whir, Dr. Woodsworth was… Descending.

Dr. Woodsworth PANICKED, desperately trying the switch the level back and forth, “No! No! No! NO!” No, fuck fuck FUCK. The room shook as it stopped at a halt, the door whining open as a chill swirled into the room. He was still frantically pressing buttons. “…Huh…?” THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Fuck…fuck…fuck…this was it. He collapsed onto his knees, clinging onto the panel. This was it. The end. Dr. Woodsworth screamed as he saw as Orpheus’ snout poked through the door. He attempted to curl into a ball, sobbing into his lab coat. “Heyo…is everything alright? I saw the square thingy going down, it’s probably really cold in here! I can warm you right up!” Dr. Woodsworth slowly turned, “Wh-“ Orpheus, using their mouth, plucked Dr. Woodsworth by the labcoat, pulling him out of the room. Dr. Wordsworth simply had gone limp, barely able to move by this point, his heart beating out of his chest as he simply accepted his fate. …Whatever that fate was. Being eat alive? Torn apart to shreds? …He didn’t know, but he accepted it to be painful. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness overtake him. …But there wasn’t any limbs slowly torn off, teeth tearing as his skin. …In fact, wherever he was, it felt soft. As he opened his eyes, he realized he had been gently pressed against the dragon’s chest, the dragon’s ‘arms’ curled around the scientist. Dr. Woodsworth caught his breath, still shaken from the recent events. He eventually let himself sink into the dragon’s fur, quivering as he sat himself right up afterwards. “…Is it less cold now…?” Orpheus turned their head slightly down, blinking as they awaited Dr. Woodsworth’s response. Dr. Woodsworth hugged his legs, he was finally able to relax, and soon as the panic was over, it had turned into annoyance. He let out a grumble, “I’m quitting this job.”

[kiddphel]

✨ Angel Kisses ✨

Ship: Scarlet Plague (Hawthorne x Camus)

Word Count: 1,182

Summary: It’s Camus’ turn to comment on Hawthorne’s hands. Not exactly a continuation of “Monstrosities and Tenderness” but there’s hand appreciation and hand kisses and also regular kisses. Also a lot of banter by reciting Bible verses.

~~

Camus threw his head back against the couch as he grew impatient. Hawthorne and him should have set off by now, but the priest refused to leave until he had finished with his current Bible reading. It wasn't as though Camus was dying to set off, he just hated the boring silence with the monotonous sound of parchment turning. The man's eyes began to wander through the room. It was a room he had sat in many times before, one he was used to. So, to his dismay, there was nothing out of the ordinary to pique his interest. So, his eyes began to wander over to his partner beside him- the ever pious and holy man Hawthorne. Just like the room, Camus had seen this man enough to know almost everything about his physical appearance. Or so he thought.

Camus's eyes quickly fell to Hawthorne's hands as he wanted the priest flip the page of his book. Scars of varying size and shape ran across his skin. Some faded and healed while others looked fresh and more pink.

"Oi, pontiff," Camus broke the silence. "Your hands. They're covered in scars."

"Yes, Camus, I am aware." Hawthorne didn't look up from his reading.

Camus huffed. "Why, idiot? What the hell happened to you?"

"They're from my ability."

"Oh, that's right," Camus leaned in a tad bit closer to Hawthorne, his head tilted closer to the man's shoulder. "You usually cut your hand so you can use Scarlet Letter. So, then, these are left over from that? Seems like a rough kinda deal- Hurting yourself to use your ability and walking away with the scars."

"The Scarlet Letter is the word of God. If it is his will, then I will burden even more pain and scars. These are simply a reminder of my devotion and faith."

Camus scowled. The man wasn't religious himself, but respected Hawthorne's faith. That is, until he blindly followed it to the point of not taking care of himself.

"Pretty shitty test of faith, if you ask me." Camus bemoaned.

"It is simply my duty as a messenger of The Lord. Besides, you were sent as a test of faith as well, and are quite as barbaric and grotesque as they come." Hawthorne resisted the urge to smirk at his taunting remark.

The younger man sat up on the edge of the couch abruptly. He gave one last glance to Hawthorne's face before quickly grabbing his hand up in his own.

"Camus! Will you cease this, I'm in the middle of-"

Before the priest could finish speaking, Camus brought the hand in his own up to his mouth and gave a quick, chaste kiss to one of the scars. Hawthorne froze and felt himself grow red.

"I don't think it's fair to give you scars like these. Although, even with them I still think you're beautiful. A part of you..." Camus' eyes were soft, uncharacteristically so. His lips slightly agape as if he wanted to speak. Or perhaps kiss Camus's hand again. The priest could not tell what the other man was thinking, but perhaps it was his own hazy mind that was making it difficult to tell.

"What are you doing, little devil?" Hawthorne's voice was shaky as he asked. It wasn't a question he was expecting an answer to. No, it was something he was asking himself: What had gotten into Camus? This was so unlike him. And his words- They made something inside Hawthorne twist.

"Isn't it obvious, bible thumper?" Camus chuckled, his eyes still soft as his mouth lifted into a gentle smile.

"Let me rephrase, then. Why?"

"Why not?" to punctuate his sentence, Camus gave another soft kiss to Hawthorne's knuckles. "Lighten up, cross bearer. Even the disciple of God should be entitled to flattery every once in awhile."

"It is insulting to hear from the lips of the Devil." Hawthorne spat.

"Is that so?" Camus paid the insult no mind. "Then forgive me for offending, but-" The smaller man leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hawthorne's. His hand still holding on to the other's, giving it a gentle squeeze. Hawthorne felt his breath catch in his throat. The moment felt like an eternity but in the same vein, was over far too quickly as Camus retreated back.

"Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation... The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Hawthorne spoke.

"Yeah, yeah." Camus chuckled as he rubbed his thumb over Hawthorne's hand. "Quote your New Testament all you like- It's not gonna exorcise me, you know."

"Matthew chapter 24 verse 41. You are a curse upon my life, do you know this?" Hawthorne turned his head to the side. He couldn't stand to meet Camus' gaze any longer. Not out of disgust, but embarrassment.

"Oh yeah? Then I bet you know this one. First verse of Galatians chapter 6." Camus gave a toothy grin as he leaned his head back against the couch, still refusing to release Hawthorne's hand.

"Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted..." Hawthorne recited. "Indeed, a fitting passage when it comes to you. How did you know that verse?"

"You'd be surprised by the things I know, angel."

"I wouldn't put it past you if you had spent your time studying Bible verses with the sole mission of using them against me."

"Aww, you really do know me so well, Nate." Camus gave a playful giggle as he finally released Hawthorne's hand.

Without hesitation, Hawthorne reached his hand out and grabbed Camus' once more. The younger man was shocked for a moment, not at all expecting the priest to react that way. But he smiled in return, a genuine smile. Hawthorne scowled weakly. The priest grabbed his Bible in his free hand and carefully opened it back up to where he had left off. The demon's eyes landed on him, an uncommon warmth behind them.

"I cannot focus on the word of God if you continue to stare at me like that." "Perhaps you should work on that studiousness then, pastor. Is it truly me who's distracting you? Or maybe it's actually your own self."

Hawthorne forcefully pulled Camus towards him by his hand and placed his own, chaste kiss on his lips. When he pulled back, he drank in Camus' shocked and flustered expression.

"I do believe it is you who is the root of my distraction, little devil."

"Damn," Camus responded breathlessly, "my bad then, pastor."

The smaller man moved forward again but Hawthorne swiftly moved away and sat back in place, denying Camus his second chance to kiss him. The man stared blankly at him.

"Now, if you could let me finish this chapter, we can be off as intended." Hawthorne's voice was stern, as if nothing had happened.

Camus smiled and sat back in his own place, giving a quick glance to Hawthorne as he felt the man squeeze his hand.

[valkyrieofsmut]

Boys reaction to their S/O sending them a text saying they are a parent now and not responding to text or calls for a bit till they arrive home with a bunch of cat/dog stuff and a cat/dog. Turns out a coworker bought the cat/dog but could no longer/did not want to take care of it anymore and pushed it onto mc. As mc tries to get rid of it they fall in love with it and can’t get rid of it.

"Sooooo... You're a parent, now..." That's what the message said; "you're a parent, now." Nothing else, no explanation, no nothing! What the heck! Who would do something like this?! Only one person the skeleton could think of; (Y/n)... The problem really is... THEY'RE NOT ANSWERING THEIR FUCKING PHONE TO EXPLAIN THIS BULLSHIT!!! What the hell is going on?!

.

Classic- He's kinda panicking internally. He doesn't know what to do...! He goes to Grillby's and... drinks... When he gets back, he's not tipsy or anything, it was just a couple of drinks to clear his skull, but he can't help feeling like he's going to pass out. He opens the door and sees (Y/n) laying on the couch. Their face appears above the couch and they quickly sit up with a sheepish grin. "H-hi, Sans... Say hello to your son..." An adorable, gangly puppy jumps off the couch and runs to him as (Y/n) starts babbling, "see, my coworker found out they were allergic to dogs, and..." Relief fills him. This will be funny later- key word being "later".

Creampuff- He's very confused. It can't actually be his child; they'd have to do things to make that happen on purpose... Did- did (Y/n) cheat on him?! Was he not fulfilling their needs? (Y/n) gets back from work to him crying. Worry fills them and they rush to him, kneeling down and asking what's wrong as they rub their hands over him to comfort him. Suddenly someone is licking his skull, and he looks up, surprised! And confused... "Uh, so, I'm sorry- just; my coworker's dog had puppies, and we managed to get the other two homes, but we couldn't find one for this little guy, and they couldn't keep him, and I didn't want him to end up at the pound, so..." He's so happy, listening to (Y/n) ramble about how they couldn't think of anything else to do, and he feels a bit silly for even thinking they'd cheat on him, they were obviously too kind and loving for that!

Red- What- what the hell?! Why was (Y/n) not answering any of his calls or texts?! He can't stand it- he has to find them! He shortcuts to their work- they left already. He shortcuts to where they usually stop and pick up a soda or whatever to destress on the way home- not there. He shortcuts back home, pacing the perimeter, until, he finally sees them! He's standing right in front of the car when they park, waiting for some damn answers! Neither says anything as (Y/n) exits the car and goes around to the other side, opening the back door and grabbing something, eyes never leaving his. A young looking dog jumps out of the car, its almost squareish head turning to look at him, ears perking. He glares at the dog suspiciously, and the dog looks up at (Y/n), sensing their nervousness, and checking for clues on if this new person is to be trusted. "Um... So, my coworker's apartment building has a ban on pit bulls, and, they really don't usually do well in shelters and stuff because of the stigma against them- really, you have a lot in common!" "yeah? what's that?" "Pit bulls are assumed to be violent, and aggressive, and ill tempered, but they're really just these big, protective cuddle bugs who are smart, and love their people. Also... I love both of you..." He gives in, though he does try to make it seem like he's putting up a fight.

Edge- Why- why the hell would he get a message like that?! He is irritated (and nervous), waiting for (Y/n) to get back, arms crossed and foot tapping. When the door opens and (Y/n)'s sheepish head pops out from around the doorway, he gives a glare that leaves no room for interpretation of how he's feeling. "Don't be mad..." He lifts a browbone. "AND WHY SHOULD I NOT BE MAD?" "Ok, so my coworker's aunt has health issues, and can't take care of her cat anymore, and it hates my coworker- she said it won't even let her be in the same room with it-" "THAT'S REDICULOUS; AN ANIMAL AS SMALL AS A CAT IS NOT INHERENTLY INTIMIDATING, AND YOU CANNOT LET THE ANIMAL DICTATE YOUR HOUSE." "R-right... Anyway... She brought the cat to work and was trying to get a new home for-" Edge's glare hardens. "But the cat ran! And- and terrorized the whole place, and ran up to the ceiling in the files-!" He's still not saying anything, and (Y/n) gets nervous. "And I was the only one that could get close, and that didn't get hissed at-!" There's a pause as (Y/n) steels their nerves and steps fully into the room, showing a pile of fur in their arms. "And since I was the only one that could be around the cat without getting hurt, they all decided to send it home with me..." Edge eyes the fluffy, unpleasant looking beast in (Y/n)'s arms, glaring at the animal, who glared back, then sat down in his favorite wingback chair. The fluffy monstrosity leaped from (Y/n)'s arms, a little unwieldy, but landing perfectly naturally, and struts up to the chair Edge is sitting in, leaping lightly into his lap and plopping down before unceremoniously sticking a back leg in the air and beginning to clean itself. He is now sitting in a chair, looking intimidating, arms folded, glare set, a large, very fluffy cat sitting on his lap and licking its ass. He thinks that it must look quite comedic, and can tell that (Y/n) is trying their hardest not to laugh. "AT LEAST YOU BROUGHT HOME A CLEAN BEAST." (Y/n) smiles at him and goes to his side, nuzzling his jaw. "Can I bribe you with kisses?" Edge's shoulders straighten. "I SUPPOSE THAT COULD BE ACCEPTABLE."

Blue- He's so worried-! There's no answer when he calls, and he even texted! He's pacing trails into the floor, wearing paths into it... Then he hears (Y/n)'s car and hurries out to it. "WHAT HAPPENED?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!" A hyperactive puppy climbs over the seats into the front and dashes out through the door, heading straight for him! It's yellowish fur looks very soft as it dances around his legs, yipping and trying to entice play. "WHA- WHO'S THIS?" "Meet... your daughter...!" (Y/n) offers. "YOU- YOU MEAN- THIS LITTLE GIRL IS THE REASON FOR THAT MESSAGE?" "Yeah..." "WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET HER?" "Well... My coworker's dog had puppies, and we were able to get all the others homes, but..." Blue's grinning at them. He loves how sweet they are. "COME ON, (Y/N), LET'S GO PLAY WITH OUR CHILD, THEN!" He runs off and the puppy happily barks and follows.

Stretch- Uh- he's not comfortable with this- this is not cool with him! Where the hell did (Y/n) get a kid?! He's stuffing his face with honey and chocolate covered honeycomb at Muffet's. But... He eventually has to go back. He's sitting on the couch, looking miserable, when (Y/n) gets back. They timidly come into the room, holding a kitten, apologizing for the weird message and explaining that one of the people at work got the kitten for their kid, but found out the kid was allergic- He doesn't trust it... It's something new, and he doesn't like it! (Y/n) feels bad, because he obviously doesn't like the kitten, but they've fallen in love with it, and who else could give it a good home- no one would take it at work, and she didn't want it to end up in a shelter! Stretch tries his normal laying on the couch, and the kitten keeps jumping up in him and cuddling close. It doesn't seem to get the hint of him not liking it... He does find its antics amusing as it has kitten business that it attends to, seeming to consist of running around crazily and jumping on dust particles... He falls asleep on the couch and wakes up to the kitten sleeping on him, looking like there's a huge smile on its face... purring. It becomes the normal position for them, and Stretch won’t let (Y/n) move the kitten off of him. (Y/n) comes home to find that, and is glad that he's finally given the kitten a chance.

Black- He’s a bit paranoid. This is a very strange message- was it a covert message? Was it a warning, was it a code begging for help?! He uses all of his skills to figure out what’s happening, and finds (Y/n) before they can even get home, finding them in the parking lot of their work. “I- I’m sorry, I couldn’t get back on my phone to answer-” Black grabs them close to him, “DO YOU REALIZE THAT YOU HAD ME FEARING FOR YOUR LIFE?!” And there’s a growl from behind them. Black pulls back, ready to defend his love- only to see a largish brown and black dog attempting to do the same. He appraises the animal and waits for explanation. “My coworker’s building won’t let them have large dogs, or Dobermans, and everyone is afraid of them, even though it’s stupid- they’re just protective-” Black steps back from (Y/n) and walks closer to the dog, holding out his hand, handling the dog perfectly well, and is petting it after a moment. Ok, yeah, (Y/n) should have seen that coming... all the dogs in the Underground, after all... Black is happy to have this dog in their lives now; one more set of eyes and sharp teeth to protect his family- and the fact that it can intimidate people just by being there is a good thing, too.

Mutt- He is not amused in the least. He uses all of his skills to track down (Y/n), finding them at work, looking frustrated and put upon. He’s probably quite menacing as he strides toward (Y/n), but a fluffy head lifts from the floor next to them before he gets there. The very fluffy and adorable looking dog stands, showing its height and curled tail, staring at him. (Y/n) quickly gestures to the door outside with a nod, and he clenches his jaw in irritation, but shortcuts, waiting for them to meet him. They soon walk out of the building, the dog following without even being on a leash, stopping as they do, and sitting at attention, seeming to be glaring him down. Mutt steps forward, and the dog leaps to all fours, growling at him. (Y/n) tries to calm the dog, Mutt tries to get them away from the danger, the dog tries to get the perceived danger away from (Y/n)... “Mutt! Stop! Pin! Down!” The dog sits again at (Y/n)’s side, still glaring at him and softly growling. “what’s goin’ on,” it’s a demand- something that (Y/n) is not used to hearing from him. “My friend, Mary, she has to move, and Akitas are on the not allowed list, because they can be aggressive, and are very protective of their people- and, since I go over there a bunch, and Pin knows me- well, I’m the only other person that he’ll accept being around, pretty much...” (Y/n) gets down and hugs the dog, petting it, then stands and hugs Mutt, who feels a certain amount of satisfaction when the dog’s fluffy ears focus forward and mouth snaps shut as though asking, “what the hell is this?!” He wraps himself around (Y/n), smirking when the dog just looks irritated, but doesn’t make any moves. After some research into the breed, Mutt thinks this is a great development, appreciating that Pin will protect (Y/n), and perhaps later his brother, at all costs, having read stories of the breed defending their family to the death. He even thinks of maybe breeding him... but gives up on that when he finds out that the dog is fixed. He’s very interested in the breed now, though.

Axe- He is very troubled, trying to remember if they were trying to have a kid... He didn't think so... But he's been wrong about stuff before... ... ... He got lost in his mind... Thoughts of everything are going through his mind... (Y/n) gets home to see him sitting in his chair, lost in space, disassociated, his hand holding on to his eye socket. "Axe, love," they call, wanting to get his attention so to not startle him. He snaps back to and his eyelight settles on them, blank for a moment as everything comes back. They've got a tiny, furry thing held against their chest. "that what your... message was about?" "Um... Yeah... My friend at work volunteers at an animal shelter, and... They didn't think this little one would be adopted... and, of course, no one at work would take it..." They look like they're on the edge of crying, and Axe wants to go give people a good talking to... (Y/n) gets closer, holding the kitten out. One eye is closed while the other is wide open, its tail looks almost half as long as it should be, and one foreleg is missing up to the elbow. He lifted a glare to them, wondering why they brought some broken thing home- wasn't he broken enough- didn't he cause enough problems- wasn't he enough to pity?! (Y/n) sat on his lap, cuddling against him with the kitten held close between them. It looked around, intimidated by all the large, new things, but not acting like it was any different than any other skittish kitten. "Little babe was attacked by a dog, lost half it's tail and a paw- they had to amputate to a better place to avoid more problems and injuries. It already had an infection that took its eye... This little one has already dealt with more than enough in its short life. Of course, no one wants an animal that isn't perfect, so they end up just staying there, until- ... And I couldn't let that happen... Not while I could do something about it..." Axe's glare softened, and he let out a sigh, looking down at the two in is lap. Of course it wasn't pity that had made his sweet (Y/n) bring the kitten home... It was the drive of knowing that it would be able to live a happy life, knowing that it wouldn't be possible in its current situation, and knowing that they could do something about it. What he liked to call their drive of "if you won't fix this bullshit, I will!" He nuzzled against them, a low, raspy purr coming from his chest. "love ya, (y/n)." The answer of "I love you, ya goof" made his smile grow wider. Life was good.

Crooks/Bun- He knows that there has to be some explanation of this, there has to be- because otherwise, (Y/n) would be crazy... and... they’re not... right? No... So when they get home with an old hound dog, he takes a breath, glad that he’d been right. Turns out that someone at work had the old boy in and was trying to get him a home. (Y/n) had fallen in love with him because the dog reminded them of him! Big, liked taking walks and checking things out, pretty blind... Bun likes the dog a lot! He’s a good companion for his walks, and Bun has a lot of empathy when he runs into things. “It Happens To Us All.” He’s also very useful to have around as a hound breed! When Sans wanders off, if he gets lost or not, the dog can track him down with little problem. Also, when Bun feels like he’s been moving too much, and he’s starting to feel pain, the fact that the dog will lay down with him and doesn’t need a lot of running around puts him at ease, like keeping him company is doing something, and not just sitting around doing nothing.

Dusty- He doesn’t know what to think. He goes to (Y/n)’s work and follows them around in the shadows, watching... He’s there a couple of hours before he sees that there’s a cage under (Y/n)’s desk. He can’t quite tell what’s in it, but he knows that he has to be prepared. He goes home and waits, ready for whatever is going to happen. When (Y/n) arrives home, carrying the cage, greeting him with a smile. “Hey, so, look what I got from a coworker...!” He steps closer, wary, seeing a rabbit in some wood shavings. “They had it for their grandkids, but they never really took care of it, so...” Dusty keeps staring at it. “I renamed it Papyrus!” Dust’s eyelights shoot up to them at that. “papyrus?” “Yeah! This is bunny Papyrus... you can litter train rabbits and let them run around, and they are pretty smart and get into some pretty funny hijinks...” (Y/n) named the rabbit Papyrus to hopefully keep him from killing it... Interestingly enough, he stalks the rabbit as something to do. He follows it around from the shadows, and studies how it acts when left to its own devices. Then he starts hiding little treats for it and watches it try to find them. Ghost Paps refers to it as “BUNNY ME.”  (This is actually how I got a guinea pig years ago lol)