#lying about why you need help and claiming youre more vulnerable than you are to get more help than you need -> actually asshole behavior

[cozm1xxx]

Hi!! Could you pretty please write something for the Survior!Dallas x Caretaker!reader au?? Literally any fic with Dallas being babied heals me omg

Thank you in advance 💕

⟢ ꒰ ⋮ 「 Don't let them see you like this 」 ⸝⸝

Now playing ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| Candy, Alex G

warnings ~ implications of self harm, cursing, references to events of the book, death, dally being a bit of an ass...

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⊹ a/n ~ me too anon, tbh we kinda need less dally smut/romance and more dally angst like HELLO? He has so much potential! Anyways, I hope you like this one <33 (also this came out WAY more angsty than I intended…)

w/c ~ 1,200+

──── ° ʚ ⌞ ♰ ⌝ ɞ °  ────

Dallas Tucker Winston.

Tough. Mean. Loud. Devilish. Handsome. Mischevious. Angry. Heartless. He makes fun of little kids. He steals. He picks fights with people for fun. He breaks promises. He treats people like vermin.

And yet, here he is, clinging to a broad like she’s his sole lifeline — that “broad” being you. 

It’s a truly odd sight, the self-proclaimed “toughest greaser in Tulsa” is cuddling up to you like a child would their mother. Ironic, really.

Just two months ago, his buddies — Johnny Cade and Ponyboy Curtis — were being tracked down by the police for killing a boy. Now, Johnny’s in the hospital and in the custody of his Aunt and Ponyboy is back at school. A very, very different place than they were just a handful of weeks ago. 

That same week, Dally was shot. Well, there’s more to it than just that. He’d just witnessed someone who was his sole reason for life, Johnny Cade himself, die right before his very eyes. Or, at least, that’s what he and Pony believed.

The thought of it still breaks you.

He’d run out of the hospital in a flash and drew a gun on a cashier at some gas station, then was gunned down by police. 

Miraculously, he lived to tell the tale. 

He brags about it to his buddies at the Dingo, but you know the truth – about who he is underneath the smug, violent exterior.

The interaction going on between you two right at this very moment proves that. 

You’re lying in your bed, Dally’s arms wrapped tightly around your body, his head resting against your chest. Your hand plays with his blonde hair, his own calloused fingers tracing shapes on the bare skin of your waist. It’s peaceful, a rarity for a man like him.

He holds you as if you’ll disappear when he lets go. You look down at him, gaze as tender as your touches. Your voice is gentle as you speak. “You alright, Dal?” He tenses at the sound of your voice, before immediately relaxing. It’s clear he’s still in pain after it all. 

“M’fine, doll…”

Despite his words, you know he isn’t okay. He hasn’t been okay since the fire. He spends every night at your place, and even when he claims he won’t, he always ends up at your doorstep, tears pooling in his blue eyes. 

God, his eyes. They always say more than his mouth ever will. The emotions and thoughts he keeps repressed. 

“I don’t believe you.” You mumble. He does this all the time. You know he isn’t fine. It shows, in the way he doesn’t eat, how often he gets drunk, the way he comes to you crying. 

But, based on his response, he isn’t having it.

“God, doll, can’tcha jus’ lay off? I — agh — ain’t a fuckin’ baby…” He groans, rolling over. He slides out of bed, wincing due to the strain on his torn body. You sit up, watching as he flicks on his lighter and pulls out a cigarette. He always gets like this when you try getting him to open up.

Cold. Stoic. Resistant. It pisses you off.

“Why won’t you just talk to me, Dallas? That’s all I want—” As much as you hate yourself for it, you can’t help raising your voice at him. He’s being an ass.

“—for you to tell me what’s going on before you go out and get yourself shot again!”

The thought makes your stomach churn. He turns to look at you, his icy blue eyes full of anger, but also a vulnerability that hides below the surface.

“Damnit, why won’t you just shove off, man?!”

“Because I fucking love you!”

Your own words catch yourself off guard. Love him? Dallas Winston, you love him? You may be scared of the idea, but you know it’s true. You both do.

“D-Don’t—.... Don’t you fuckin’ say that shit.” His voice breaks as he speaks.

“Come on, Dallas! I get that you’re scared of gettin’ too attached, but for once in your stupid life, will you be reckless with me?!” Tears well up in your eyes. 

Dallas Winston is a reckless man – he steals, fights, yells at policemen – and yet, he refuses to be that reckless with his feelings. He refuses to believe that letting himself be loved will do him any good.

He just stares at you, for a while. Frozen. Eyes wide and cold. You know it sounds crazy, but you love him – god, you love him. He means the world to you. Despite everything, you find yourself loving him. And for him, that’s the scariest part.

He tries storming off, like he normally would. 

But before he can even reach the door, he’s doubling over; from pain or something else, you can’t tell. In moments, he’s on his knees. You immediately rush over him, heart pounding in your chest. Is he okay? Did he open one of his wounds? Did he burn himself?

It isn’t until you hear him sobbing that you pause. 

A rush of shock shoots down your spine. You walk over to his side, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Dally…?”

His arms encircle your waist faster than they ever have.

“P-Please— Please… Please don’t leave me, doll…”

He presses his face into your stomach, hands trembling as they grip your night shirt like a vice. 

Please. A word Dallas Winston doesn’t use often or lightly. It’s enough to make you wrap your arms around him, fingers carding through messy blond hair. Featherlight kisses are pressed to the top of his head, manicured nails scratching at his scalp.

His arms tighten around your waist as he sobs into your stomach. If only the rest of the world could see him like this. Not as the mean, scary greaser he pretends to be, but the lonely little boy you know he is. 

Tender words of reassurance are murmured in his ear. His sobs soon calm down, replaced with soft little sniffles. The tight grip of his hands loosens, but doesn't fall. 

You stay like that for a while.

After what feels like forever, you manage to pull away. Your soft hands cup his jaw, fingers tracing the stubble that now riddles his face. 

“I could never leave you, Dally.” You whisper. Not for the world, not for yourself, but for him. 

He stares up at you, eyes glassy with tears, 

He lets you drag him into bed. He lets you dress his wounds. He lets you put pink and sparkly bandaids over the scars on his arms and bruises on his knuckles. He lets you do it all.

Because you never looked at him like the others do — with fear or disgust or pity — only sympathy. You never made him feel weak or like he wasn’t enough.

Even now, as he’s clinging to you like a baby koala does its mother, he doesn’t feel weak. He feels safe.

───〃♰

BONUS ~

“Hey, doll… don’t tell anyone about this, alright?” “You think I’m gonna pass up the opportunity to embarrass you, Winston?” “I might’ve been shot, but I could still– AGH!” "God– Dallas! You’re gonna rip ‘em open again, jesus!”

[ 🏷️ : @r0seb100d @whitemanswh0r3 @marilyn-girly ]

[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving (ii)

post rut Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), there's plot

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either ❤️

From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.

~masterpost~

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping, you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?

In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.

"A- Al?"

Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.

You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.

He doesn't need you anymore.

After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming -that hid a great deal of desperation- to his tender love making last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... -that's all it takes really- then you were nothing but a fucktoy.

"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"

Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!

Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior...

This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach churning with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.

You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.

Sinking in the now filled tub, having the water envelope your frame, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench.

A long and audible sigh.

Your hands around your frame.

You start crying.

If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.

Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.

But oh... the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him -you being there for him. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.

Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of Pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you... Right?

As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.

Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable in peace! Not like you're in Hell.

"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"

Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is an okay thing to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiling smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.

"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"

"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.

"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"

"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my deer!"

"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-"

The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a whining child. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he saw himself in.

Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees -shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle that you are.

The radio demon scranches his nose.

"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"

Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.

Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.

Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"

You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"

The fucker chuckles!

"Oh, I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.

"Go to Hell."

"Ironic."

You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.

The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the bathroom wall and crouches down so he is level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's guilt eating him from the inside.

While he was in musth, in breeding mode -or in whatever you wanna call it-, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.

And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things he doesn't even feel particularly bad about... but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.

You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.

So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID THIS TO YOU.

Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.

"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."

It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.

"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.

The radio demon's worry only deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."

No one has heard Alastor apologize before -not even God, for all that's worth.

His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."

"I'm not in pain... Just sad."

You do look rather devastated.

Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.

He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."

"None of it?"

Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.

"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."

You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.

What really surprises you, though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.

"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."

"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"

"Now, now, little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."

You sigh and settle in his lap.

"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"

Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then picks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his, but he doesn't seem to care for such details right now.

"Now... Let me see you."

"I said I'm fine!"

"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."

"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."

"Hmmm, did you say something, dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"

It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state, it's very validating to have him take care of you.

So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.

Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.

Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.

"I'm fine Al. Really."

"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."

"It's just a bite or two."

"I drew so much blood..."

"Yes and?"

He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories -back when he still hadn't taken good care of his father.

As long as he hasn't permanently marked you, it should be fine.

"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."

"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"

"You were my solace."

"What-"

He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."

"I don't do cuddling."

"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."

You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from your intense moments -but it was a big relief to know he still wants you in his life now the rut has ended.

Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear -no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy equals vulnerability ...and to him vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.

"But we did sleep together until yesterday."

The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.

"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."

You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored -to an extent- after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.

"But why don't you like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."

"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things, my dear deer..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that.

You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good -and I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion on physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.

"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."

The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.

Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you this time. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow.

It's a cozy place.

His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel, but unlike the former, he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft fur around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining -as one would expect. It's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.

Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?

His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part -and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's, that was a bad thing.

As you're happily nuzzled against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host -and a serial killer.

"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"

Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.

"That feels nice..."

"Oh I know."

"What were you saying?"

"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable, baby boy! ...my mother... she..."

His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.

There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.

"Can you keep this up?"

"Sure Al."

"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes, of course... Mama and my curly mop."

The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story.

It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.

"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... Oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-

As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently, they didn't like that at school! So my father... he -radio static intensifies- he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently, then no one would take us seriously."

You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything -that's not your job.

You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.

"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."

You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that's resting on his chest.

"But it is!"

Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.

You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.

Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you.

The radio demon is enamoured with you.

Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.

When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.

"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona -no need to put up a show. You haven't even woken up properly and you're already wondering about this new side of him.

"Al? Is everything okay?"

"Oh why, yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."

"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"

You expected him to laugh or even chuckle, but Alastor goes straight to the point.

"All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."

Kissing him would mean you actually view him romantically and whatever "friends with benefits" situation you have going on will be destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.

"We can change that y'know."

You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and wastes no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile -that reaches his eyes.

"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.

Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate -but not overly aggressive. His lips are warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of it -taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

Once again -just like when it came to sex-, you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power -an instinct if you will- provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.

And then, you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.

"When I thought I was doing a good job~"

"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so is he.

Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.

To be continued.

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[mariacrow]

How would tfp cons react to their human female s/o got captured by Airachnid?

Sorry for typos or any kind of mistakes 😭 I lose my darn concentration while writing this long

Hope you like it! 💜

STICKY SITUATION

✦ TFP Decepticons x reader ✦

2nd person

female reader

AU where the reader has joined the Decepticons and mostly works in the lab or helps with repairing

reader is captured by Airachnid mostly because of her envy

kidnapping, possessiveness, threats, heated arguments/fight (physical)

injuries, blood, rescue, comfort

MEGATRON

Airachnid would hunt you down, wrap you in that sticky web-like substance of hers and bring you to lord Megatron with an excuse that you sabotaged a project and set the whole lab on fire while in fact it was her doing

Accusing you of unloyalty while standing before Megatron's feet, you'd scream and beg him to listen to you, claiming Airachnid is lying

Airachnid: SILENCE, YOU TRAITOROUS RODENT!

She would shout as she'd seal your mouth with the sticky substance

Your lord would observe, doubting you'd do anything like that. As he'd look into your pleading, innocent, tormented eyes, his spark would ache. Not that he expressed it. He'd rather perish than express his vulnerability for you

Then he'd look into Airachnid's eyes full of hope that he’d tear you into tiny pieces of young flesh as he’d get struck by her tiny, devilish grin

Airachnid: my lord. Your wish is my command. I can inflict indescribable pain on her if you let me. She deserves it.

Megatron: no. She does not.

Would be all he'd say before he'd walk to you and free you. You'd start desperately trying to explain yourself but he'd nonchalantly interrupt you:

Megatron: accidents happen. You shall proceed. Shockwave awaits your assistance back in the lab.

He'd give an order and wait for you to leave. Then he'd walk back to Airachnid who'd be in pure shock

Megatron: if you want to terminate her, lying to your leader would be the unwisest way to do it.

Airachnid: my liege-

Megatron: SILENCE! Do such thing again and you shall be the one torn to pieces by my own bare hands. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?

Airachnid: yes, my liege... *as she'd reluctantly bow*

Megatron: and stay away from her. She is far more useful than you are, Airachnid.

Naughty you would stay close to the door and listen. You'd giggle to yourself as you'd hear your master play favorites

Airachnid is not oblivious though. She noticed he cares for you which she'll use against him. She would already start making new plans on how to get rid of you, lord Megatron's pet.

💜

STARSCREAM

He’d be in shock when he’d get a report from the vehicons that you’ve been attacked by Airachnid

He’d order his soldiers to show him where you are as he’d call for backup

When he’d find you wrapped in a cocoon upside down in a storage room, being threatened by Airachnid, he’d order her to stay down as he’d aim his rockets at her

Airachnid: oh please, Starscream. Like a couple of your cloned servants could stop me.

Starscream: you fool! Free her this instant or perish.

Airachnid: so it is true~ commander Starscream has a new pet human~

Starscream: I do not care for… a human! I am simply fulfilling my duty! We need her for the project!

Airachnid would hiss and threaten to slice your throat

Airachnid: and why would that stop me from getting rid of this infestation!

Starscream: Megatron will have your head! And so will I.

An evil smirk would grow on Screamer’s face plate as they’d charged their weapons at her. She’d reluctantly and angrily release you, making you painfully drop on the floor and yelp

Airacnid: until next time, rodent.

She’d say as she’d crawl her way out of the storage room, disappointed that her plan of getting rid of you had failed

Starscream would slice the cocoon open and free you as he’d emotionlessly tell you to get up.

You’d thank him as he’d walk you out and say:

Starscream: not a word to anyone about this, got it?

Totally into you but his dignity and ego can’t allow him to admit he fell in love with one from the species he hates the most

💜

KNOCKOUT

Knockout: YOU WHAT!?

Airachnid: relax, Knockout~ No one will even notice she’s gone~ and we both know everyone dislikes her-

Knockout: I DON���T- I mean- WE DON’T! Lord Megatron needs her to complete this project! She became one of the key members of the lab, I-

Airachnid: indeed. Indeed she did. She’s taking your position. Soon, lord Megatron will replace you with her.

Her cunning aft would try to manipulate him

Knockout: the only one who can be replaced on this ship is you! You’re afraid of her. Now tell me where she is before I cut you into pieces!

He’d say as he’d get his saw out and aggressively rev it at her to which she wouldn’t even flinch, bluffing

Airachnid: calm down, doctor, it isn’t a big deal. Just a little game I like playing with her. And my my~ so it is true~ doctor does have his favorite assistant after all~

Knockout would groan and go look for your. He’d turn the whole ship upside down until he’d find you somewhere well hidden with tied limbs

He’s dramatically scream and free you carefully as he’d baby talk to you

Knockout: look what that wretched femme did to you! Nt nt nt… Don’t worry, little one, I won’t let that creepy spider lady get near you ever again, no no~ Doctor’s promise~

Y/N: don’t say that ever again-

Knockout: what I thought it’s cute-

As he’d carry you back to the lab and shower you with kisses

💜

BREAKDOWN

She knows how much he cares for you and how easily distracted he gets which she’d cunningly use against him in battle

She’d capture you and make you hang upside down a thick tree branch the moment he’d attack her

Airachnid: are you sure you want to play this game again, Breakdown? Because we have a new contestant~

Breakdown would freeze as he’d see you desperately trying to scream with your mouth sealed

Airachnid: I think she wants to say hello to her precious boyfriend~

She’d say as she’d free your mouth and let you scream for Breakdown. But instead you’d encourage him:

Y/N: BEAT HER ASS, BREAKDOWN!!!

To which he’d frown and power up, get his hammer out and roar like an animal as he’d charge at her

You’d watch the epic boss battle and keep encouraging him until all of your blood would flow down to your head and make you feel unwell

Airachnid: hurry up, boyfriend~ You chose a very delicate being for your lover~ She will die if you don’t get her down in time~

Breakdown: YOU TALK TOO MUCH!

She tried distracting him more but instead she only made his anger grow. His helm boiled as he kept mercilessly hammering her

The moment he knocked her out and yeeted her somewhere, he rushed to get you down. He panicked a little but managed to rescue you on time

Breakdown: you’re the best life coach even when you’re dying~

He had to pull a cheesy joke

💜

DREADWING

She’d pull the same trick on him like on Breakdown

She’d use you as his biggest weakness - fear of losing his closest ones just like he lost his brother…

Both of you would have your limbs tied as she’d make you face each other

Airachnid: now that we have the whole scene set~

Dreadwing: Airachnid, do not be a fool. You are playing with fire. Release her this instant!

Airachnid: or what!?

She’d say as she’d give you a big, deep scratch across the back and make you yelp

Dreadwing: NO!

Airachnid: watch her suffer.

In a blink of an eye she’d stab your torso by the side with one of her eight unsettlingly long legs and make you bleed badly

Dreadwing would scream as he’d desperately try to free himself. Filled with fury, he’d manage to rip the sticky substance that was tied around his wrists

Dreadwing: YOU WILL NOT TAKE THE ONLY THING THAT I CARE FOR IN MY LIFE!

He’d jump her and obliterate her, making her run away with deadly wounds

As he’d kneel next to your wounded body, he’d free you and gently pick you up and request an immediate ground bridge.

He’d watch your fragile, almost lifeless body curling in his servos…

Dreadwing: do not fear, my love. I shall take care of you. You will not leave this world. Not while I stand…

💜

SOUNDWAVE

She thought she could just snatch you from the lab while you were alone and get rid of you that easily

She forgot Soundwave, that has developed strong feelings for you, is the eyes and ears of the ship

He’d cut her off in one of the hallways and have a stare down

You’d scream for help

Airachnid: silence! And stand down, Soundwave. Her playtime with big robots has officially come to an end.

He’d launch his tentacles at her and try to zap her which she’d avoid while running towards him

He would maneuver wisely and swiftly while trying to snatch you from her servos

You’d get slightly injured due to their “doll snatching” game

The moment he’d managed to get his servos on you, he’d create a ground bridge right underneath her

As she was about to fall into it, he’d grab one of her creepy legs and speak:

Soundwave: Soundwave superior. Airachnid inferior.

Before he’d let her fall into the portal and teleport somewhere, precisely above the ocean

Y/N: you… you can speak?

To which he’d just look at you and put his index finger across the lower part of his face plate, gesturing this shall stay a secret

💜

SHOCKWAVE

Shockwave: I find your behavior… illogical.

He’d say in his usual monotone voice, trying to calm the situation down as he’d catch her wanting to preform torturing experiments on you in the lab

Airachnid: don’t be naive, Shockwave~ You and I both know she’s nothing but an infestation on this ship!

Shockwave: that statement is illogical as well, Airachnid. She is my assistant.

Airachnid: oh curse your assistant!

Y/N: Shockwave! Please!

The moment he’d hear his secret lover plead, he’d charge his blaster at her

Shockwave: do not test me, Airachnid. You clearly are not aware of my abilities.

He’d say as he’d start slowly approaching the berth she held you captive on

Airachnid: oh no, dearest Shockwave. Clearly it is you who isn’t aware of our common enemies!

And there comes another epic boss fight. To your surprise it was quite short

Shockwave broke two of her spider legs with ease as he’d throw her around the lab

He did completely or mildly damage some of his equipment but at that point he couldn’t care less. All he cared about is your well being

Shockwave: take advantage of this situation and leave with dignity before I call reinforcements and inform Megatron of your disgraceful act.

Sometimes words can hurt more than actions. She hissed at him and crawled out of the lab

He released you and earned heartwarming gratitude from you

Shockwave: I have always found her way of perception… illogical.

Dividers belong to @kiwicidios , @firefly-graphics and @kimjiho1 💜

[mapiforpresident]

32 with Lucy, but completely platonic? so where r is a younger player that just needs some support and Lucy wants to help

nws if you don’t want to do platonic stuff :)

"Why won't you let me in?"

Lucy Bronze x reader (platonic)

warnings: homesickness

summary: You feel homesick after moving to Barcelona

Barcelona had been your dream club since you first started playing football. You grew up wearing the jerseys and watching as many games as you could. That was why, as soon as you received an offer from them, you said yes immediately. You knew leaving Arsenal and saying goodbye to all your teammates would be incredibly difficult, but you could not turn down an offer from Barcelona.

You felt fine the first couple of weeks after you left your home country of England. It had almost felt like going off to another tournament and that you would be back soon. However, after two months, the novelty started to wear off, and you began to feel homesick. You didn't want to worry any of your teammates, especially your English teammates, who you knew would be very concerned if they knew how you were feeling. Lucy had always sort of taken you under her wing, and she did no different at Barcelona. However, now that she was in a newer relationship with Ona, she spent less time with you than she would have liked, and you didn't want to feel like a burden to her.

You had just approached the training grounds in your club-provided car, ready to make your way into training, but you didn't have your usual enthusiasm and energy. Once you stepped onto the grounds, you realized Lucy had been waiting for you by the door, which made you smile a little bit.

"Hey kid, you ready for another day of me running circles around you?" Lucy ruffled your hair a bit as you led the way to the locker room.

"You wish you could keep up with me; you're practically ancient at this point." You opened the locker room door as a bunch of teammates turned to greet you.

"You are getting older, amor; you can't keep up with us younger ones anymore," Ona said as she came and kissed Lucy on the cheek. Lucy playfully frowned but allowed Ona to pull her towards her cubby to get ready. Just like that, you were back to being alone in your thoughts and feeling homesick. You wanted to text Leah, but you didn't want to bother her, knowing she was busy with her own recovery and training, so you kept all your emotions bottled inside.

Throughout training, your teammates were confused why you weren't acting like yourself. Normally, you were off joking with Pina and Patri or getting babied by Ale or Lucy, but instead, you mostly kept to yourself, even partnering up with Ingrid, which Mapi wasn't happy about because you knew she wouldn't ask you any questions.

"You okay, kid? You're not getting sick or anything, are you? You seem exhausted and stuff," Lucy asked as she approached you with a water bottle during a break in training.

"All good, just thinking about how many times I'm going to nutmeg you during the next drill." Lucy gave you a look after you said this, like she knew you were lying, but before she could respond, Ale called out to you, claiming she wanted you on her team for the 5v5.

The rest of practice, Lucy kept an eye on you, realizing more and more how weird you were acting, even saying no to Mapi asking to take you to get ice cream after practice, which you had never done before. She continued to not-so-subtly ask you questions about what's wrong, including if you had gotten enough sleep or if someone had broken up with you, although she had told you that you weren't allowed to date for another ten years anyway. You kept brushing her questions off, claiming that you just needed a nap when you got home, not wanting her to see you break down or be vulnerable, especially in front of the whole team.

Practice had finally ended, and you were thankful you had avoided the questions well enough for Lucy not to drag you back to her apartment, although she knew you didn't like going over there anyway after you caught her and Ona doing not-so-child-friendly things on the couch. You had just packed up all your things, ready to make a beeline to your car and go home so you could finally cry and let all your emotions out and then hopefully take a nap. Just as you were about to grab the last of your things from your cubby to head to your car, you got an Instagram notification. Leah had posted a selfie with a couple of your old Arsenal teammates with the caption "Best teammates in the world. Love playing alongside you guys every day." Normally, you would like it and think it's cute and message Leah about how she was so soft and cheesy, but today it was your final straw.

Your face dropped immediately, and you don't know why, but you bolted out of the room until you got to a secluded hallway where you thought no one would find you, and you just broke down. Sobs racked your body as you wanted nothing more than to be back in your home country with your childhood team. You knew the language, you knew the people, everything was easy and predictable. What you didn't know is that Lucy saw the entire thing from how your face dropped to how you had sprinted out the door. She quickly followed you, knowing you shouldn't be alone right now.

What she saw when she found you broke her heart. She had never seen you look so small and dejected. You were sniffling, now curled in on yourself and slightly rocking.

You glanced up, startled by her sudden presence.

As Lucy approached you, she could see the frustration etched on your face, the weight of uncertainty heavy in your eyes. She stopped in front of you, noticing the way you seemed to be wrestling with something internally.

"Talk to me, bubs," Lucy whispered as she sat down next to you and started to rub your back lightly, something she knew comforted you greatly.

"It's nothing, I'm okay. I think I just need a good nap."

"This is clearly not nothing. You know I won't judge you for anything you say. Do you want me to call Leah?" Lucy said as she continued to rub your back soothingly.

"No, please don't bother her, seriously. It's really not that big of a deal, and you know how worried she gets."

Lucy could sense your reluctance to open up, but she wasn't about to let you push her away. She knew you needed someone to lean on, even if you didn't realize it yourself.

"Hey, it's okay to not be okay," Lucy said gently, her voice filled with understanding. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. We're teammates, we're friends, and we're here for each other."

You continued to just sit there and shake your head, thinking Lucy will just think less of you if she knew you were making all this fuss over just being homesick.

"Why won't you let me in, bubs? It's just me. Let me help you. I'll even come to your apartment, and you can beat me at Mario Kart again." You let out a soft chuckle at this, which made Lucy relax a little bit.

"I... I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm new here, and I just... I feel like I'm drowning, like I don't belong."

"I'm homesick, and all this change was new and exciting at first, but I miss home."

"Oh, bubs, why didn't you say anything sooner? It's completely okay to feel homesick. Barcelona can be a lot. There are so many new people, two new languages, a new style of play. It's completely normal to miss all the things that feel normal and familiar."

"How about this," Lucy continued, her tone gentle yet determined. "I'll call Keira, and she can meet us at your apartment. We'll cook a full English meal, and we can even Facetime Leah and Georgia. We'll have a Lionesses night, just like old times. How does that sound?"

A sense of relief washed over you, knowing that Lucy was there to support you through the tough moments. You nodded gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Incredible," you whispered, gratitude swelling within you. "Thank you, Lucy. For everything."

With Lucy by your side, ready to help you navigate the challenges of adapting to a new life in Barcelona, you finally felt a glimmer of optimism for the future. And as you leaned into her comforting embrace, you knew that no matter how far from home you were, you had found a true friend in Lucy.

[superkirbylover]

im going to be vulnerable again for a moment. risky move considering the internet and being harassed right now, but i value being transparent above all else

it stresses me out not knowing what the two anons were talking about. claiming i accused an anon of grooming? where did i say that?? i mentioned it in the first ask where anon 1 flipped out. i re-read my response at least 30 times now. i have NO clue where they got that i called them a groomer from. i only definitively said two things: scuttles was fetishmining, and anon keeps bringing up personal experiences to talk down to me.

this is where my initial assumption that anon 1 is scuttles comes back. i want to believe them when they said they're not them, but here's my issue. two days before yesterday they applied to the zine. i noticed and blocked them on bluesky, since i had completely forgotten to. i blocked them already on the tumblr. then, wouldn't you know it, two days after that application, i get a vile, angry ask bringing up them and the babystar AU again. just like how they did in screenshots ive seen where they went around in a discord fearmongering about me. then, when i say scuttles is fetishmining and ask that i am not compared to gin, they freak out and accuse me of saying they're grooming. i never directed ANY accusation like that to anon. to me, this means despite saying they're not scuttles, it's incredibly likely that they are. i already knew it was in that circle, but still. it lines up with how aggressive they got when i privately asked respectfully to please use nsfw tags. immediately got defensive, accused me of things i didn't do, etc. to me, this makes sense.

i did block the anon, but they obviously negated that block. that's why i really wish i knew DEFINITIVELY who it was, because in the case that im wrong, i can block. however, they still may be circumventing via incognito tab or signing out. obviously, the safe move for me would be to turn off anon. i harken back to "i get more kind anons than harassment," which IS true! it's why im so hesitant. ive had majorly good experiences with having anon on. i don't want to risk people not coming forward to me with their personal stories, because genuinely? that means THE WORLD to me. to know people understand my POV, that they trust me to be kind to them in a vulnerable state. it makes me feel honored each and every time. arguably, the anon can just make an alt account, too... granted, it's much harder than opening incognito, but still.

i feel pressured to answer these asks because im open to being criticized. i have made mistakes, and i will always make them. i want to be open to being told if i hurt someone. ive previously been accused of "ignoring criticism" which is why i bother giving these asks even a second on my blog. i know i don't have to answer them, especially when they're very inflammatory. i can't help but feel like i need to, especially when theyre lying about me or claiming i did things i never did. if you're neurodivergent, ESPECIALLY autistic, im sure you understand being accused of lying when you're not, or people spreading things about you. it's oddly common against neurodivergent folk...

i wonder if anon 2 is just anon 1 again... that's idle speculation of course. i will never know unless someone comes forward.

my biggest fear is getting the artists that ive recruited for the zine harassed because of mere association with me. it's the exact opposite of what i wanted. if any of them see this, im really sorry. i thought about doing an artist spotlight when the applications close, especially to help promote the zine and its artists, but im so scared that my harassment will extend onto zine members. i want to put their safety first. im scared this zine won't work out because of harassment.

i have to return to my job, but i hope this post was a little eye-opening or explained my POV well. thank you for your time.

[thefandomlesbian]

37 + wilson for the ask game :)

OUCH we're going right for the throat, huh--

This is probably going to be utterly incomprehensible and I am not responsible for any ramifications that arise from answering this question. Allow the word-barf to commence!

#37: What they really think about themselves:

This is such a difficult question to answer because Wilson is a man shrouded in layers upon layers of hiding. This is someone who constantly begs the people around him to be vulnerable with him, to trust him, while simultaneously refusing to ever offer his own vulnerability. And he's good at it. He's good at passing himself off as being close to someone while they never know he has a brother.

House is all walls topped with barbed wire fences and he makes no claims otherwise. Wilson on the other hand is a shimmering oasis. He's fresh water in the desert with shade and fruit. He's nothing but a refreshing illusion. Wilson can be incredibly human while simultaneously more detached than anyone knows. This is aided by the fact that he's a social chameleon, matching whoever he's with, and a natural conscience mirror for the people around him. House calls him out on this multiple times in S5, specifically for being a chameleon who meets the environmental needs of everyone else socially; House asks him, "Who are you at your core?" and then goes on to assert that he thinks Wilson has no core, that his locus of identity has been completely erased in his desperation to meet the needs of others.

Even in S6 when House demands that Wilson choose something to place in their home that he likes... he picks something he knows House likes. "You asked me to tell you who I am, and I am someone who loves you. This is the only answer I know how to give." That's typically the fandom read, but it's important to recognize that this attitude is not unique to House coming from Wilson. He does the same thing with Amber, with Grace (the cancer patient he cares for), with Cuddy during the Rachel adoption arc, with Tucker, with Sam. His existence pivots on his service to other people.

His desperate need to be needed, as House calls it, has a flipside: Wilson can't need anything. From anyone, ever. He can't be vulnerable, which is why he hides himself so effectively. To unveil weaker parts of himself, it would require his loved ones to serve him, to help him, and Wilson cannot cope with the idea of inconveniencing the people in his life. I have written meta in the past on the whole cast's gross mistreatment of Wilson during the Tritter arc. He has no money, no car, living in a hotel that presumably expects weekly payments, no way to buy food or keep himself housed. Everyone attacks him when he finally folds, but none of those people were there to support him, even though his situation was exclusively caused by House lying to and manipulating him. But the thing is... Wilson wouldn't have let them help him. Think of his friendship with Cuddy, how she reveals that she treats him as a confidant (she told him and only him that she slept with her father's best friend) and trusts him not to repeat things to House--but when he arrives to work late from riding the bus, she didn't even know his car was impounded. That sort of friendship is the type you can call to come get you! You don't need to take the bus! Wilson would never dream of reciprocating the relationship she has with him. He's incapable of inconveniencing someone, even to ask for a ride to work or to spot him a five for a sandwich in the cafeteria, even from people he's very close to.

And this all comes to a head in the cancer arc. Wilson is incapable of being needy to the point that he's ready to undergo high dose chemotherapy alone in his own home in a nonsterile environment with no one to monitor him or check on him. In his words: "I am not going to die slowly in a hospital bed under fluorescent lighting with people stopping by to gawk and lie about how I look. Even a small chance of that happening is too big a chance for me." It's funny that later in this episode he says that he wanted a wife and children to care for him, when we know he wouldn't ever allow himself to be so weak in front of his loved ones. House acknowledges this in the same episode.

Wilson's need to serve and his fearful avoidance of being vulnerable all point to an incredibly abysmal sense of self-worth. He says that House doesn't like himself but admires himself, and I don't even think Wilson does that much--as he consistently tries to lie on the sword for everyone around him. RSL says Wilson is the saddest man in New Jersey, and I would agree with that. Wilson has deep-seated issues with his self-esteem. As a wise YA novel once said, we accept the love we think we deserve, and the only love Wilson ever accepts is House's. In S3 after House upends his entire life, it takes one genuine apology to buy him back, because House's love is the only one Wilson knows how to handle. It's the only one he can take without feeling unworthy. All coming to the S8 conclusion: House makes the ultimate sacrifice for Wilson, and Wilson (in spite of having just lambasted House publicly for ostensibly ditching him) argues against it. Wilson says he's not worth the sacrifice. He would rather die alone than have House give up his life for him.

(I could delve into a whole follow-up wrt Wilson's romantic relationships as a gay!Wilson truther, but I've already gone too far and made this unnecessarily long.)

so in short: I wouldn't say Wilson hates himself explicitly, he would consider that vain and self-centered, but he cannot exist outside of serving others. If his utility is gone, he is pointless. I already wrote a long meta on my take on Wilson's suicidality, but that line of thought follows here, too. Wilson thinks his value as a person stems from his ability to care for others and will die sooner than become someone who needs to be cared for.

[yuseirra]

hikaai is such a funny ship. I feel like I'm defending someone in court for being wrongly convicted... pleading "Oh, there is no way he could have done it, your honor!" with the basis being.. my hunch (but there IS more than that) So it's... not exactly about being happy and excited at this point(I love drawing them btw), it's more about being unable to overlook some things.

Either the guy is so good at lying and his entire life that's been described so far is a lie, or it's that he's extremely hurt and timid (he couldn't even go visit his gf giving birth and go see his own kids because he got nervous if what he claims is the truth PL EASE Hikaru.. oh, goodness. But I think this DOES fit his character... it's oddly realistic. And he treats his children quite lovingly after that? The way I see it?)

but even if he can fool ME, I doubt he would have been able to fool Ai. She's the better liar, her whole story revolved around her lies and love and there's a scene where she literally reads him like a book within the story. If Ai and he fights, he does not have even the slightest chance to win. He does not stand a chance against Ai. That's what happened regarding the 15 year old lie as well, he didn't have a clue when it came to HER lies. I like that about them. They're very tragic, but you know, the way Ai steps in and leads him is sweet. That part of it is kind of cute. That's EXACTLY why she's worried about him, everyone, he's so vulnerable and so easy to be taken advantage of. It happens OVER AND OVER. I'D worry if I knew a person like that.

Am I the only one who feels this way? This character is being bullied. I shouldn't have to care about that, he's just a drawing, he can go to jail or HELL if he needs to be punished, I won't care about him if HE'S the one who's killed Ai (he's still good-looking but my feelings for him would change a whole lot) but don't people see?; Ai decided to help him because he was bullied as a child!! She couldn't bear seeing the guy she found endearing being in pain! I think that's happening again! And Ai's dead now so she can't help him anymore... their children have to do it in her place... This whole situation makes me feel like I'm watching a bullying incident in school but being unable to do anything about it... I feel really bad. Why are these things happening to him? It'd be better for HIkaru's sake if he really IS evil and is some sort of god that drives people crazy, that's the other way this could make sense but would that be a good story? It won't be, so I don't think that's it.

By the way I've been rereading ch 1 a lot because Ai-

and if I had a gf like that who'd risk everything they had going because of their love towards me (that's EXACTLY what she's doing there) I could give my life. She's so lovely?? I'd love her with all my heart. Yeah she's hurt Hikaru so much from that lie she told him but, it was an action so full of love, I get it so well. She's that sort of character, she's the embodiment of love. So I think Mephisto must be the boyfriend's song. Ai risked everything for him, and I don't picture the guy she loved acting any different for her sake. He wouldn't have fretted over giving his own life for someone like that, in fact, he'd wish to do MORE if he could. Being the super.. timid person he used to be, he's probably been pushing himself really hard. However, I don't even know how much he's capable of doing because I feel like 'Huh..with this personality, can he really even go that far?;; CAN he actually do something for Ai in a drastic manner?;'

yeah.. this ship is stressful.. it's golden though! I just hope things get resolved somehow and soon. nervous laughter

I should go play my game too~ I wish I had several bodies, there's so many things I want to do and have to as well..!

[insufferable-protagonist-poll]

Round 2

Propaganda why Charlie Morningstar is insufferable:

"Her entire personality was rewritten to be insufferable. She behaved like an idiot who didn't understand anyone or the problems they had. Her ideas were shit and so were her dramas."

"She was insufferable in the the Masquerade episode. It infanticided her so much, it ruined any enjoyment I might have had in her. She is supposed to be an adult woman trying to safe sinners meanwhile she acts and is treated like a toddler??"

"I know her whole character is naive and innocent. I even liked her at first. But with every rewatch I find her more annoying. She is waaay too naive and doesn't listen to anyone else's concerns like Vaggie's or Lucifer's, instead just believing everyone will listen to her. I might be alone in this, I just hate this archetype of naivety and innocence to this degree."

"Rich girl who doesn't consider other people's needs and boundaries until it gets too far. Literally builds an entire hotel to get sinners to heaven WITHOUT first seeing if her theory is actually possible. She tells Heaven AFTER it was built if they could offer some help or support instead of before it. Toxic to her girlfriend. Literally complains about having daddy issues when there's no issues to be found. Her father is depressed and although he doesn't like her hotel concept he never shoots her down for it. She acts like the world revolves around her rainbow ideas when literally noone cares. You being a princess means nothing to most people. Get off your high horse and learn what it means to be anything but princess of hell. The narrative wants us to sympathize with Charlie but gives us no reason to beyond Quirky™ and 'oh she's so nice' SHUT UP you're literally lying to the audience about Charlie. For all she claims to be, Charlie sure is a self-centered brat trying to live out some heroic fantasy with unwilling co-stars she forces to bend to her will."

Propaganda why Dean Winchester is insufferable:

"This man is racist against anyone other than humans and abused the people he was supposed to love the most. He literally abandons Castiel at his most vulnerable and never lets Sam leave the whole hunting monsters thing. Worst part is that the fandom will get behind him and defend him because what, he’s pretty? Pretty much a terrible person, more like. I sympathize with his backstory but Dean has ZERO character development during the course of 15 whole seasons. When he DOES have development it involves abusing someone. Sam tries to be a normal person and always gets punished for it. The only hint we have that Dean might’ve been trying to change is a piece of paper in the final episode AFTER HE DIES. then guess what? Sam lives out his whole life and has a family 😭 that’s very, very telling."

"misogynistic scumbag. theres also a few different times that dean finds teenagers sexy with the most recent and prominent example that i can recall being the scooby doo crossover episode in season 13 where hes super into daphne who in the version they chose for the episode is 15-16 and is interacting with her as if shes a real person cause they got magicked into the episode. he treats everyone around him like shit and the only time the narrative agrees that thats a bad thing is when he has the mark of cain put on him and hes acting no differently than he does usually its just now acknowledged that hes treating others like shit. ive been rewatching the show for shits and giggles with a friend and wow he really does not treat anyone well but i wanna focus on how he treats sam for a second cause dude's hobby seems to be ignoring what his brother wants and lying to sam about doing stuff that directly concerns him the demon blood and souless things are reasonable cause those were both Bad for sam but theyre still part of a wider pattern and the most prominent example of this being when dean tricks sam into letting gadreel possess him and actually gaslights sam about it with the whole ordeal ending when its revealed gadreel lied about who he was and while possessing sam murders a friend of theirs. his voice is just also stupid as fuck im sorry this is just petty but he just sounds like hes trying so hard to be gruff n intimidating but he just sounds like a kid pretending to be batman"

"Dean’s list of sins is crazy long because of how long the show ran, but the key thing for me is that post-locking Sam in the bunker (season 4 I think?), I just can’t enjoy their relationship anymore. I normally love their sibling dynamic, but Dean’s ultimate worst past-the-point-of-no-return moment for me was demonizing (pun intended) his little brother for being “addicted” to demon blood, which only happened because of a series of events that were either Dean’s or someone else’s fault, not Sam’s. I also really dislike how the fandom treats Dean like this angel (pun intended) who has done no wrong and even tries to justify the MULTIPLE times he’s beaten up and otherwise abused his little brother. Canon Dean is like the polar opposite of fanon Dean: he’s homophobic and racist (jokes about a Black man being sexually assaulted in prison), misogynistic (take a shot every time he calls a woman a slur and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning), and abusive."

"Misogynistic asshole and too many of the things he does get treated as not actually bad or even good by both fans and the show when he violates peoples autonomy and is incredibly abusive to the people he loves the most. And it wouldn't be as annoying if people didn't justify so many of his behaviors or if he ever changed or even just was seen as a bad guy in the show more than he is."

">Was a misogynist (loved to call women skanks, bitches, hoes)

>Used gay as an insult multiple time during the show's run (idc if he's gay an homophobic, that's still insulting)

>Beat up his brother for being possessed

>Beat up his brother for losing his soul (not his brother's fault)

>Used dubious consent to get his brother possessed in a different unrelated possession incident after possession was being used (badly...this is supernatural after all) as a metaphor for SA

>Threatened to murder his brother when he was hallucinating (yay we aren't ableist)

>Locked a child up in a box

>Threatened to kill the child he locked up in a box

>Made a creepy, sexual comment about a barely-legal high school girl

>Got the woman and kid he was living with memory-wiped"

"Really mean to Cas (called him a child, zero respect for him, calls him family and casts him out when the angels are looking for him), and an absolute dick to Jack (threatening to kill him CONSTANTLY)"

[byanyan]

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ❝in case it escaped your notice, I care about you!❞ ( from haru )

bullying the traumatizedㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting )

ㅤthey are... upset, to put it simply. words that should probably come as a comfort, that surely would be taken as such by most anyone else, only serve to flare their temper further. i care about you. such a simple sentence, one they've craved to hear and be able to believe for a very very long time, and yet... it only adds frustration to an already overwhelming and confusing flurry of emotion.

a foot stomps loudly against the floor and byan rounds on haru like she's spewed some hard-hitting insult at them.

ㅤㅤ" why? why?! "ㅤtheir shout is as demanding as it is accusatory. deep down, some part of them wants to believe that she means what she says, but a much bigger, more deeply scorned part of them simply can't. it demands reason, demands proof, because it cannot fathom why she'd bother to give a damn about them. they haven't exactly given her reason to; quite the contrary, actually — they've done nothing but intentionally cause trouble for haru and xiao both, determined to be a thorn in their sides and maintain a safe distance.

ㅤㅤ" you ain't got no fuckin' reason to give a shit about me, so why? why do you care, huh?! an' don't gimme any'a that 'you're livin' in my house' or 'you're part'a the family now' shit, 'cause that's what it is, alright? it's bullshit! sure as hell never stopped anyone else! "ㅤfrom lying about caring, that is; from claiming to care only to hurt them, use them, abandon them over and over again. byan might be high as a kite and in the middle of an emotional breakdown, but they still know better than to spew any of those facts verbally. they still know better than to actively expose that vulnerability. instead, they do what they've always done best: they yell, and they break things. the cup in their hand goes straight to the floor, shattering in an instant and scattering glass and the remainder of the water they'd been drinking across the otherwise pristine tile.

ㅤㅤ" i don't need you to care! "ㅤa lie.ㅤ" i don't want you to care! "ㅤanother lie.ㅤ" just— fuck!! "ㅤwith a frazzled bark of a shout, hands rise to their head and grab fistfuls of their hair like that might help them sort out their disorganized thoughts and chaotic feelings. they should have just stayed out all night, then they wouldn't have to deal with this.ㅤ" —leave me alone! "

[justapanpirate]

Whenever I have seen a fic that has something like pedophelia in it it’s explicitly clear that it’s a bad thing. The fic goes into how traumatising it is, how wrong it is, how the adult is at fault. I don’t know what kind of fics other people have found but I’ve never stumbled upon one that tries to portray it as something that is in any way okay. If your mind immediately goes “this fic has pedophelia, that means anyone who reads it jerks off to it” I’m concerned about what the fuck is going on in your head. Do you jerk off to it? Does a fic with incest make you suddenly want to fuck your sibling? No? So why do you assume it happens to everyone else? Why do you assume that you are somehow too smart to get manipulated, but others are not? Does it make you uncomfortable? Did you ever think about how that might’ve been the point?

You also don’t seem to realise that the argument that “you can’t write about xyz because it’s normalising it” also applies to things like biographies, where people tell their story, usually in a “I went through all this shit and survived, you can too” sort of way. Should they not be allowed to? And don’t use the “you can only write about it if it happened to you” bs, how do you know someone went through something and aren’t just lying? Should there be a requirement that people have to tell the world about their trauma to prove they can write about it? A trauma-license if you will? A guideline for “the correct way to write about sexual trauma”? Who will decide on what the right or wrong way is?

If you want to censor writing about pedophelia, rape, incest etc it’s not gonna stop with fanfics. It’s not gonna just apply to what you find disgusting or morally wrong, what you think is the wrong way of writing it. Censoring that would mean censoring it no matter in what context, because people won’t be able to agree on where to draw the line. If you don’t think that will have people find loopholes to silence survivors you are incredibly naive and no better than the people who tell survivors they shouldn’t talk about it because it makes things awkward and other people uncomfortable.

And if you purposefully and repeatedly seek out fics/art that makes you uncomfortable, gives you anxiety, in any way affects you negatively, you are actively self harming. Any therapist would tell you that step one is to do what you can to avoid those triggers; use the block button freely, mute every trigger you can think of. This goes for everything, not just what I’ve mentioned. The rest of the world doesn’t care about your triggers, it’s up to you to do what you can to keep yourself safe. You are the main character in your story, not mine.

Lastly: why are any of you using ao3, that was created specifically by proshippers for proshippers if you find it so vile? No, “because that’s where the most fics are” isn’t an excuse. That just means that your entertainment is more important than this morality you spout. And why do you guys, who claim to care so much about victims, never share any resources for said victims? Why do you never talk about the bible, a book that is actively used to hurt people? Why do your arguments never extend to murder, cannibalism or just about any kind of violence other than sexual? Do you genuinely think you know more about how the human mind works than people who have studied it for years? Does it ever occur to you that maybe the world isn’t either black or white but actually full of gray tones, because how we think is pretty damn complex?

•

If you or someone you know needs help:

[kiss-my-freckle]

This book quote reminds me of the Delena scene in 1x3. I recently saw a Delena fan claim Damon was trying to use compulsion and sexuality to mask the vulnerability of the kitchen scene in 1x3, but that take is off base:

“I’m sorry if I frightened you.”The voice was pleasant, with a slight accent she couldn’t place. It didn’t sound sorry at all.Relief was so sudden and complete that it was painful. She slumped and heard her own breath sigh out. He was still smiling faintly. Elena’s relief turned to anger. “You’re angry,” he said gravely. “I said I was sorry to frighten you.”“I wasn’t frightened!” she snapped. She felt foolish in front of him somehow, like a child being humored by someone much older and more knowledgeable. It made her even angrier. “I was just startled,” she continued. “Which is hardly surprising, what with you lurking in the dark like that.”“Interesting things happen in the dark…sometimes.” He was still laughing at her; she could tell by his eyes. He had taken a step closer, and she could see that those eyes were unusual, almost black, but with odd lights in them. As if you could look deeper and deeper until you fell into them, and went on falling forever.She realized she was staring. Why didn’t the lights come on? She wanted to get out of here. She moved away, putting the end of a bleacher between them, and stacked the last folders into the box. Forget the rest of the work for tonight. All she wanted to do now was leave.But the continuing silence made her uneasy. He was just standing there, unmoving, watching her. Why didn’t he say something?“Did you come looking for somebody?” She was annoyed with herself for being the one to speak.He was still gazing at her, those dark eyes fixed on her in a way that made her more and more uncomfortable. She swallowed.With his eyes on her lips, he murmured, “Oh, yes.”“What?” She’d forgotten what she’d asked. Her cheeks and throat were flushing, burning with blood. She felt so light-headed. If only he’d stop looking at her…“Yes, I came here looking for someone,” he repeated, no louder than before. Then, in one step he moved toward her, so that they were separated only by the corner of one bleacher seat.Elena couldn’t breathe. He was standing so close. Close enough to touch. She could smell a faint hint of cologne and the leather of his jacket. And his eyes still held hers—she could not look away from them. They were like no eyes she had ever seen, black as midnight, the pupils dilated like a cat’s. They filled her vision as he leaned toward her, bending his head down to hers. She felt her own eyes half close, losing focus. She felt her head tilt back, her lips part.No! Just in time she whipped her head to the side. She felt as if she’d just pulled herself back from the edge of a precipice. What am I doing? she thought in shock. I was about to let him kiss me.

I feel the same way, that take is off base. Damon was undercutting her relationship because Stefan was hiding his vampirism from her. It's because Stefan was lying to her that Damon so much as warned him before he even made a move. "And I'll do with your little cheerleader whatever I want to do because that is what is normal to me." That's why Stefan felt the need to desiccate Damon. He was putting Stefan in the position where he either told Elena the truth or he let Damon do whatever he wanted to her. Desiccating Damon stopped him from doing whatever he wanted to her and allowed him to keep his secrets. Then the old man came in and revealed it all. The kitchen scene is gorgeous. It shows Damon's role in Elena's life. Good to help Elena move on from the death of her parents, but Damon is the one that pushes Elena to move on from the death of herself. That's why Stefan would have no problem with her signing up for cheerleading in season 4 even though that's not who she is.

[soft1scream]

jonathan

how's life now?

i believe you're happy with the way you're living now

i can't anchor down what you have sailed in your lifetime

unlike before when i will prepare you a breakfast to savor just for you to choke on it

i assume you caught me watching you achieve simpler things in life

i assume you think of me like the smell of wet paint on a new house

that lingers to the party house when wedding dress already turned into blouse.

you were once in the lonely road center where woods die in

and now, i run with the bird with no one but tumbleweeds in the horizon

jonathan

did you ever need my help?

i'm always here to help you whenever you feel sad or vulnerable

remember the night you cried on the telephone

me on the other line?

i tried to be stronger than what i truly am

i was fondling my blood in lime and i'm rusting every dime

do you know the pain of breaking down due to what you love doing most of the time?

one morning, i just stared at the ceiling, frozen just sat

but as to help you.. of course i never told you anything about that

jonathan

what is it about you?

you stabbed me with words in a way i had hoped only you would

you probably never knew this, but a part of you lives in me

that if you're feeling sad, i'm ought not to be happy and when you truly love someone

half of the words you wanted to say must stay hidden

jonathan

i wanna tell you how much you mean to me

but i cried instead because the stars will most likely pass us by if i just stay in my bed

and there's no chance of getting hurt if it's all just in my head

jonathan

please, let me unveil the love i concealed in my unspoken verses

yet, i stumbled with dishonesty, hiding my affections in poetic curses

i was feeling nothing and everything

every tear means more than words can express

on the other hand, you can fetch her under the gas station lights late at night

i wouldn't mind

jonathan

you're the city that nearly broke me

i'll never love you like when i was young, when i was old, or when i was now, i bet you couldn't tell

you tore the seams of what's clawing me back again

i risked everything i got in you, then why did she outbid everything?

was i out of town driving with my hoodlum friends?

perhaps, i was shivering each regional borders?

you blew every waves with a sigh

you better include my downfall in your prayers

and i better knock on wood, you think?

but no matter what you do, i'll always sleep in your heart

reside in your heart.. cry wolf in your heart..

jonathan

you don't have to repeat it, i know.

i've lost you, and the hope of your return has faded

i know you won't come back

but let me cling to the illusion that you might

a version of you better from the man i once knew

i'll deceive myself into thinking i'm always here, ready for you to return and maybe do a little more

i'll feign that you'll be here and leave them all in a box

but deep down, i know i can't erase what rust has crawled onto now

so just so you know.. i know

jonathan

they told me i have choices

but what's choices if all i have was you

jonathan

there's nothing more to lose

now that i've lost you

jonathan

i only think about is you and her

and it makes my pencil even shorter

not for the claim she might stake,

nor for the time that she'll partake

rather, two others are destined to share their lives together

forever

that i think to myself– i nailed it to my head

if there is a partner created for me

i ponder if could it have been us, however?

if only it had been you; life could have been simpler

jonathan

i'm lying if i tell i didn't see both of you together

i am a good friend so i stayed away to not bother

but i must admit that on my walk back home i was frozen above my waist

that day painted me red like a bloodstain

you made my heart seesaw on a rusty dusty chain

all night i sat and stared at the ceiling wishing the roof would collapse on my hurting

i could punch a hole on the floor to shoulder my tears

i could swim in my tears, get drunk in my tears

i'm stronger when we were together, it's more than late diners on angel's burger

i couldn't sleep that night when i'm sure im never gonna be able to pick myself up again

but then, one phone call from you and i was hiding behind the forgotten

jonathan,

people do crazy things when in love

i've seen it, perfect bird's-eye view

from the depths between your thighs

let love be your light

and with love, don't let your heart shatter into irreparable fragments

jonathan

i feel like i've passed all the weights i was carrying around on my back

onto you while you're in the middle of smiling

and reality is, it feels far from comforting

jonathan

i loved the man who knows nothing about who i truly am

i loved the man who i have to hide half of me for him to accept what he thinks of who i am

i loved the man who did naught i loved the man who never even tried

and i loved so much where i don't even like myself anymore

i loved you to a point where liking myself severs my existence

and i bet you never knew about that, jonathan.

[writteninkat]

Hey Kat how are youuu 💞 i hope everything's fine :) i'm literally so excited to read the my brother's bf fic 😭💕💕 later i saw a post you reblogged: https://writteninkat.tumblr.com/post/657547669698396160 could you turn this into a fic pleaseee 😩 we need that 😭🥺🥺 maybe slutty!Fem reader asking bakugou for study help although she's only horny and while he tries to study with her: explain smth to her she starts that freaky shit hihi

i wish u a great week end. btw i got a big crush on a boy who works with me 🥺 but i'm sooooo shy and NOT ME whenever i'm around him i hate it. i know that we would vibe idk:/ he is a friend of my older sister and i got the feeling that he sees me as a child (he's only 4 years older) i hate it here lmao

xo💞🌟💕

Quizzed | Bakugou x Reader

summary: You ask Katsuki for help with your studies but that was all a ruse to let out all your sexual frustrations on him.

w/c: 1.9k

warnings: fingering, oral (m!receiving), katsuki calling reader slut once

a/n: hiii i'm doing well!! <3 hope you are too!! and LMAO i get what you mean!! i turn into a completely different person whenever i'm with someone i like but i try practicing just being my self lol why don't you test out the waters, give him some hints ;)) update me about it then hehe

navigation

Katsuki Bakugou is good at anything and everything he tries. He's got an amazing, flashy quirk, he's smart, has an explosive personality and you can't deny he's handsome.

God's favorite child; that's what he is.

And you're obsessed. You love how he smells so sweet, how soft red spills over the tips of his ears and his cheeks when he's flustered or embarrassed, the deep grunts and melodic moans that slip out his lips.

He turns into your vulnerable little bitch under your softest touch. And you love it.

College isn't easy, not by any means. Unlike highschool or middle school, you're the one chasing after your professors, you're the one who teaches yourself, you're the one who has to grind in order to get a good grade and graduate.

It's times like these, during hell week, that you regret not choosing the hero course. They don't need to go to college, they become heroes after highschool and from the stories of your friends, hero work seems to be a much more enjoyable job than in a hospital doing rounds.

You sigh, mind tired and body aching all over as you plop onto the couch. Your boyfriend, number two hero Dynamite, is busy cooking the both of you dinner. "Long day?" He asks.

As much as you want to claim that all you want to do is eat whatever your boyfriend is cooking, wash up and cuddle with him till you fall asleep, you can't. You'd be lying.

You're frustrated and you want to let out some steam. And the fact that your boyfriend is cooking in your shared kitchen with nothing but black sweats that hang loosely over his hips and an apron doesn't help.

You nod quietly, sitting on one of the counter stools just to watch him cook. As your eyes greedily rake over his ripped arms, toned back and occasionally his built chest, the gears in your head begin turning as you think about how to get him to fuck your stress out your body.

"Let me guess, you wanna sleep after you fill that tummy of yours?" He doesn't really talk like this, but you appreciate how he acknowledges your trouble. You pout in response, "Can't. I still have to study a few lessons in chem."

Study.

If he weren't busy with the food, Katsuki would have seen how your face visibly brightened at your idea. "Help me out? Please?"

He eyes you from the side as he shrugs his shoulders. "I probably won't be of any help, but I can try."

Oh you'll be of big help.

You have your Chemistry book, notes and the periodic table laid out on your desk as Katsuki walks in with two cups of tea; steam still floating from above it. You feel bad–he even bothered to prepare tea for the both of you but you know neither of you will be taking sips from the tea cups any time soon.

You smile when he sets the cups down, standing from your seat to push him to sit down on it instead. He looks at you with confusion in his eyes but don’t ask, prompting to check the topic you “need help with”.

“Ah, I think I’ve read about this topic before.” The moment his words leave his lips, your hand flies onto his shoulder as you lean over. “So you know how this is the atomic number, right?” You nod at his question, hand running up and down his built shoulder as a start.

He looks over at your hand, his then flicking up at you before returning to your opened textbook, shrugging off your suspicious actions.

By the time he’s finished discussing and explaining the topic, you’ve sat yourself on his lap, one arm over his shoulders playing his ear as the other runs up and down his chest. “You understand now?” He asks, looking up at you as you nod your head.

“Yeah,” You lean over, pressing your lips on his. Your soft pinks stay on his pair a little longer than usual. You pull away slowly, your hand now cupping his jaw as you look deeply into his eyes.

He raises a brow, “What was that for?”

You shake your head, eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips as your thumb traces over his lower lip. “You’re just so sexy, teaching me like this. So smart.”

You lean forward, pressing your lips against his once again as his hands drop to your hips, thumbs caressing the exposed skin. You part your lips from each other, allowing his tongue to slither inside your wet cavern, tasing you.

You rise onto your knees, setting yourself on his lap to straddle him as Katsuki continues to kiss you passionately. All your stress, all your concerns, all your anxiety always washes away whenever Katsuki kisses you, when he holds you, like this.

“You have to be studying.” He breathes into the kiss.

“I’d rather study something else.”

Your fingers hook themselves on the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, exposing his hard abs. You run your palm over the exposed skin, fingers following ever bump, ever rise, every dip before you inch your fingers inside his sweats. Katsuki grabs onto your wrist, stopping you, eyebrows creased in confusion.

“Study.” He says, sternly.

“Fuck me.” You say. Sternly.

Within the next second, your hand is pushed into his pants, caressing his length, fondling his balls, and Katsuki sits there beneath you with his hands clutched into fists and his breathing heavy but controlled.

You slowly wiggle yourself off of him until you’re kneeling on the carpeted floor, your fingers pulling his pants down as your gaze keeps itself in his eyes.

Katsuki closes his eyes slowly, jaw clenched and head craned upward. You snicker, pulling his hard cock out of his pants. Your mouth visibly waters at the sight and you feel your pussy clench at the sight of his wet tip–pre cum already leaking out of it.

You lean forward, sticking your tongue out, pressing it against the base only to run it upwards to the pink head. You enclose the tip with your lips before pushing your head down, taking his entire length as you fight the tears from spilling. You miss this so much–Katsuki’s taste, how he skips a breath and fights his moans when you take all of him, the way he has to physically stop himself from getting too rough with you.

You’re sloppy when giving head–saliva dripping down his cock and the chair, saliva dripping down the corners of your mouth, pre cum smeared on the tip of your nose and cheeks. When Katsuki looks down at you for the first time, and you look back at him with a shit-eating grin and all messy, he cums almost immediately.

You laugh, allowing his release to splatter all over your face.

You wipe a dripping one from your cheek, into your mouth, sucking on your finger all while looking at him straight int the eye.

Katsuki breathes heavily before pulling you up from your knees. He pulls you by the waist, pushing your shorts down, letting them pool around your ankles. He pushes you onto your desk, having pushed all your study materials off the top to give you space. He lifts both your legs up, resting them over his shoulders as he looks at your glistening pussy, admiring the way it looks before pushing a finger in. Pretty and strangled moans slip out your lips as you throw your head back.

“How do you solve for the mass number of an element?”

A quiz? Really? Now?

Your brows knit together as you look down at him, to which he simply raises a demanding brow. He curls the fingers inside you and you feel your soul leave your body for a moment, making you gasp in surprise.

“You–oh god–you add the number of protons and–“ You squeak when he suddenly adds another finger inside, “–and the number of neutrons!”

“Who discovered the first subatomic particle?” Katsuki quickens his pace and you feel your legs shaking. “JJ Thomp–nnggh!–Thompson!”

“When?”

“1896!”

He adds in a third finger and the stretch has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Give me a rule for naming ions.” He curls his fingers inside you and for a moment your mind goes blank, earning an irritated growl from Katsuki. “Shit, Katsu!” You cry out, “The charge of an ion–oh fuck–can b-be determined–“ Your back arches at the feeling of your high quickly arriving. “–by its place on the periodic table!”

Your cunt clenched around his fingers greedily as your hips move in circles on their own, riding out your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls heavily, finally, it’s been too fucking long.

Katsuki pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at how sensitive your pussy still is. You watch as he brings his fingers into his mouth, lapping up your juices coating his digits and your kitty clenches around nothing, as if you hadn’t just cum.

The pro hero grabs you by your waist, sitting on your chair. He aligns his cock in line with your hole, letting you slowly lower yourself on his cock, your cunt greedily taking his entire length.

“What method do you use when writing formulas for ionic compounds?” You’re already moving your hips before he even finishes his question.

“The crossover method.” You whisper.

“Hump on it, you slut. If you’re that desperate to fuck yourself with my cock, do it properly.”

Following his words, you start rising before lowering yourself on his cock. The feeling makes your legs want to turn into jelly, but the thought of not getting to feel this way has you fighting the urge.

“Give me the formula for Iron and Oxygen.” Katsuki grips at your waist, now moving your hips the way he wants you to move it.

The feeling of his cock stretching you open, the feeling of it hitting your g-spot again and again and again, his fingernails digging onto your skin and your brain wracking itself for the correct answer–everything overwhelms you too much.

“Fe2O3!” It comes out as a whine, making Katsuki chuckle.

“What about Barium and Sodium?”

He’s thrusting upwards now, allowing you to lessen your efforts, giving you more chance to clear your head even for a little bit. “Ba3Na2.”

“That’s right.” He whispers into your ear, “That’s my smart little girl.”

Katsuki carries you by your thighs as he stands. For a moment, you think he’ll head for the bed but he’s setting you back onto your desk. Feeling this, he answers your silent confusion. “It’s a bad idea to study on the bed.” He tilts his head to the side, “You might fall asleep. We can’t have that.”

He begins thrusting into you, your desk hitting against the wall every time.

“Recite the greek prefixes for naming hydrated salts.” You feel another orgasm coming. “One to ten. Do it correctly and I’ll let you cum.”

Weird boost of inspiration.

“Mono, di, tri–shit, Katsu!–Tetra, penta, hexa, hepta, octa, nona–“ He thrusts deeply inside you, pulling an orgasm out of you. You gasp as your pussy clenches around his cock. You look at him in the eye, a smile stretched across your face. “–deca.”

Katsuki continues thrusting inside you, his own high following not long after.

Your body falls onto the desk like lava–hot and pulsing.

Katsuki pulls his sweats up, helping you with your own bottoms before slapping your ass. “I’m giving you three more quizzes later.” Your eyes widen at his words to which he grins cockily at. “So make sure you study hard.”

You got to answer every number in your test the following days, but not without a cost. The mere section of writing formulas for ionic compounds has you clenching your thighs together.

[mcheang]

Volpina vs Old Lady

Anybody recognize her? 😂

After a disappointing vacation to Africa, Nana decided to visit Paris instead. There were less bad kitties there.

Plagg suddenly sneezed. Adrien felt a chill down his spine and raised the aircon temperature.

Nana liked Paris. The culture and friendly Parisians were charming, she was even getting addicted to the goodies at the Dupain-Cheng patisserie. She decided to visit there every day to try a new treat.

Marinette was such a darling girl that she even gave Nana a homemade Christmas present for being such a regular customer.

The only thing annoying Nana were the frequent akumas and that bad black kitty.

Not that the akumas ever attacked her. They just disrupted her holiday itinerary. And she is not impressed by a flirty kitty distracting a serious heroine.

One day, nearing Christmas, Nana had just neared the patisserie to give Marinette one of her handmade scarves. They both love to bond about the joys of knitting. When she saw a girl in ugly orange play a flute, before suddenly turning into Marinette, but with an evil smile.

Ugh. Another akuma. But this one trying to frame Marinette? Unacceptable.

As Volpina started wrecking the bakery (the real Marinette was outside giving gifts to the homeless and orphanages), Nana suddenly came in and said, “Bad akuma!”

To Volpina’s surprise, the little old lady whacked her in the head with a surprisingly heavy purse, breaking her illusion in a puff of orange smoke.

Nana: framing a sweet girl on Christmas Eve? Unforgivable! Take that! And that!

Basically Nana gives Volpina a major beat down.

Tom: Nana, stop, she’s just a girl!

Nana: she’s an akuma with a magical suit.

Tom: true...but still...

Nana: she framed your daughter

Tom: she’s not worth it

Nana: she still deserves a good smack. In my day, we would have used a cane.

I think a cane would be preferable to her purse...

Volpina: Hawkmoth, help!

The akuma left Lila alone. Nana had to stop now. But Lila was still bruised without a miraculous cure.

Lila: what is wrong with you? How could you hurt me?

Nana: how could you frame Marinette? Such a sweet girl, giving gifts to the poor.

Lila: she’s a bully

Nana: ha! As if! I know bullies, and Marinette is definitely not one. You seem like the type.

Lila: I am not! I help Prince Ali with his charities.

Nana: never heard of him. But if you yourself claim to be innocent, why the desire for revenge, huh?

Lila: it was Hawkmoth!

Nana: he only persuades you to do what you already want to do!

Lila: no, I-

Nana smacked Lila on the face again. “And that’s for still trying to frame Marinette on Christmas Eve!”

Lila burst into tears and ran away, terrified of the old lady. It’s not like she can turn people on an elderly lady...especially when they also seem either awed or petrified of her.

Hawkmoth felt Volpina’s pain and wondered what would happen if he akumatized the old lady...maybe another day...he called back his akuma.

Nathalie looked up when Gabriel left his lair. “No new akuma? What happened to Miss Rossi’s petty jealous tantrum?”

Gabriel: she got beat up by an old lady

Nathalie: I wish I could have seen it

Gabriel: I’m pretty sure I saw a customer filming it.

Nathalie: do you think Lila’s resulting embarrassment will be worth an akuma?

Gabriel:...you just want to watch her get beat up again, don’t you?

Nathalie: I’m the one who has to spend more time with her at photoshoots. The brat is insufferable and exhausting. And she never shuts up! If she’s not bragging, she’s whining.

Gabriel: mmm....consider it an extra Christmas present then.

True to form, the video of Nana beating up Volpina before calling out Lila for wanting to frame Marinette got a million hits within ten minutes. Lila’s accusations about Marinette being a bully are in direct contrast to her public actions giving free presents and food. Nana’s remark about how Hawkmoth only encouraged her inner desires also struck home. Lila wanted to hurt Marinette. If she were really a victim, she would want justice/revenge and truth, not framework. That’s not how previous bullied-victims-turned-akumas had done. Stoneheart and Evillustrator sought revenge, not framing. Lady Wifi and Silencer sought truth.

Confronted by all the negative comments, Lila is transformed back into Volpina to frame Nana as a wacko old lady.

She returns to the patisserie with her new disguise and wrecks the shop, insulting Marinette’s family in the process.

Marinette correctly suspects this is a vengeful Volpina rather than the real Nana, who mentioned she would be on a museum tour.

Nana learns of the imposter and asks her fellow tour groupées to help clear her name. They all post her true whereabouts and declare her innocence.

Chat Noir is alarmed at this and runs to the museum to protect Nana because obviously Volpina will be after her.

To everyone’s surprise, Nana is not welcoming towards the hero offering her a lift to safety. Instead he is the next one to receive a purse in the face.

Nana: bad kitty! Didn’t your parents teach you to treat your elders with respect? Learn to ask for permission before carrying me around like a bride across the city! And you think an old lady can’t take care of herself? Give us more credit! Don’t assume we are all fragile and vulnerable. I can take care of myself!

Ladybug arrives.

Ladybug: Nana! Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright. Um...why are you hitting Chat Noir with a ruler?

Nana: this bad kitty needs to learn manners.

Ladybug: Chat, say you’re sorry. But Nana, we can’t ask you to fight in this battle for us. It’s our job to take care of you. Which is a shame because you are really good at kicking akuma butt.

Nana patted Ladybug’s cheek. “Such a sweet girl. Don’t worry. I can check out the gift store and hide in there. But that faker will probably find me there. Why not use me as bait?”

Rena shows up. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Rena plays her flute and transforms into Nana.

Nana hummed, eyeing her doppleganger. “Not bad.”

Volpina does show up, intent on proving she can take on an old lady. Come on, she has agility, she should have some strength too.

Only Nana turns out to be an angry Rena.

When Lila is deakumatized, both Rena and Nana tear into her for lying and framing an old lady. And yes, the matter is clear that Lila and Ladybug are not best friends at all.

There are videos of this, of course. And some commenters join the cause to unravel Lila’s outrageous lies, helpfully told by their classmates.

It is enough to gather the attention of the embassy. Mrs Rossi is ashamed of her daughter and agrees to send her back home because clearly she will be very negative in this city for a while now.

Not that home is any better since her videos have gone viral all around the world.

Lila is sentenced to homeschooling where she is safe. But to prevent her from learning of her own infamy, all electronics are confiscated. Lila herself knows any dreams of fame and riches are now dashed unless she wants to turn to crime.

She will have to undergo a major physical transformation and get a new name if she wants to re-enter society....after she is cleared by her psychiatrist that is...

Back in Paris, Chat wonders why the old lady seems to hate him. Then he finds a news article about her beating up a lion.

Plagg: she hates cats in general. Lucky us.

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter II

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and eventual smut.

A/N:ENJOY!!!!

Your wedding came and went like the wind. 

It hadn’t been a large affair - barely more than fifty people had attended - but your mother had cried of course, and so had Jungkook’s mum, and at the end of it you were Mrs Jeon.

Your new husband had kissed you at the end of it - gently, quickly, like it didn’t really mean much - but you couldn’t help it that your heart skipped at the feeling.  Your first kiss with the man you’d spent most of your life loving, and it was like vapour.

And now here you were, stood in the foyer of Jungkook’s apartment, wondering what the hell you were doing.  You felt like some kind of imposter - a woman only pretending to be Jungkook’s wife.  You tightened the hold on your suitcase, the one your mother had made you pack only a week prior.

“Most of your things will be sent over in the days after you marry,” She’d told you, eyes mischievous, “But you’ll need something special for your wedding night.”

You scoffed. 

Your wedding night had been anything but spectacular. 

Bangtan had splashed out on an incredibly expensive hotel complete with matching robes and expensive champagne, but you’d spent most of the night alone.  You hadn’t been able to bare much of the reception, claiming a headache only an hour and a half into the festivities, and though Jungkook had seemed less than happy about it, he’d told you to make your way to the hotel room without him.

Of course, when you’d arrived all you’d done was to get into bed and cry yourself into some kind of dreamless sleep, feeling like nothing could ever make you happy again.  Hours had passed before Jungkook joined you, and when he did, you didn’t mention the smell of perfume on him, and he stayed far, far away from you.

You shook your head furiously, trying to rid your mind of all those horrible memories. 

One day, you hoped, you’d have beautiful children, and then you could shower them with all of your unrequited love.

“Are you listening to me?”

Jungkook’s voice shook you out of your reverie and you turned to face him sharply, eyes wide.

“What?”

He sighed heavily, “I said you can either move into the guest room or join me in the master bedroom.  What would you prefer?”

You knew what your heart wanted of course. 

As stupid as it may have been - and it was astoundingly dumb - you still wanted to share Jungkook’s life with him.  You wanted to be able to indulge in the intimacies of marriage and your chest tightened as you remembered what you were to your husband - a hindrance.

“Will it be alright if we share different beds?”

He rose a dark brow, “What do you mean?”

“Your employees,” You clarified, tucking some hair behind your ears and avoiding his eyes, “They won’t think it’s… Inappropriate, will they?”

You hated the strange code of conduct you were being forced into.  You loved Jungkook - you wanted to give him yourself, whole heartedly - and yet you had to walk around the truth.  You had to pretend like every moment you spent here wasn’t causing irreparable damage to your heart. 

Jungkook shrugged, “So what if they do?  I don’t give a shit what people say and neither should you.  You should sleep wherever you prefer.”

The words hung in the air and you watched his face carefully.

He knew how you felt about him didn’t he?  So he had to know you’d prefer sharing his bed.  You collected yourself, and after a moment smiled gently.

“Then I think we should share the master bedroom.” If he was surprised he hid it well.  

“Okay.  This way then.”

You followed him down the hallway and stared at the planes of his back.  The suit jacket he was wearing hugged his shoulders perfectly, and despite yourself something in your stomach swelled.

You were his wife now, weren’t you?

Did that not come with certain expectations?

You wondered if Jungkook even found you attractive.  Surely if he wanted you in any capacity, he would’ve come looking for your company on your wedding night.

You bit back the tears.  Now was not the time for this.

The master bedroom was big of course, but basically empty.  Jungkook cleared his throat as you stood in the doorway to the room, observing your surroundings.

“I don’t spend a lot of time at home,” He started by way of explanation, “So urm… That’s why everything’s quite bare.”

You nodded slowly, “I understand.”

“You can do whatever you want in here,” He waved his hand noncommittally, “Within reason, of course.” The joke was weak but you pushed out a soft laugh nonetheless.

“Is that all you have with you?” He pointed at the small piece of luggage you were holding.

You shrugged, “My mom insisted she’d have the rest sent over to me,” You dropped the suitcase at the end of the huge bed you’d be sharing with Jungkook for maybe the rest of your life.

“So what’s in there then?”  He cocked his head to the side, confused.

You felt your cheeks blush, brazenly, and you cleared your throat, more than a little uncomfortable.

“She told me to pack some things for the wedding night,” You answered, finally lifting your gaze to meet with his, “It’s not a big deal.”

But you knew that was a lie.  Your heart was beating rapidly at just the thought of Jungkook knowing you’d brought intimate clothing along with you, and you knew that the only reason you’d told him it was because you wanted him to think about you scantily clad in lacy underwear.

You wanted him to be attracted to you, despite the fact this marriage was born out of duty for him.  You thought that maybe if he wanted your body, you could find a way to open up his heart as well.

“They still do that?”  Jungkook’s voice was painted with disbelief.  

You quirked a brow, “Do what?” “The whole wedding night lingerie thing,” He laughed tightly, “My hyungs all told me about it but it just sounds… Kind of outdated to me.” Another stab in the heart.  You tugged a hand through your hair.

“Oh.” He frowned carefully and sighed, “I’m sorry.  Did that hurt your feelings?”

It pained you how easily Jungkook saw through your armour.  How would you survive a lifetime with him?  How could you hide from his gaze when he knew you so well? 

You felt stupid and useless suddenly.

“No.”  You replied, voice catching slightly at the end, “You’re right.  It is outdated.” You thought of the racy red number your mother had insisted Jungkook would love.  He would never see it of course - but part of you had hoped he would.  Part of you had hoped he’d not only see you in it… But love you in it, too.

It was a foolish hope.

“Is it alright if I rest?” You asked him after a moment, smiling despite the tears that crawled up the back of your throat, “I’m really quite tired.  It’s been a long week.”

Jungkook’s eyes searched your face and you forced your expression into one of neutrality.  Just because he knew how you felt - just because he knew you loved him - didn’t mean you always had to be the vulnerable one.

You could learn to protect yourself.  You’d grown up around monsters.  Around people who manipulated and hurt others.

You just had to learn how to navigate this new reality.

This marriage.

“Yes of course,” Jungkook told you once his eyes had searched right down to the very depths of your soul, “Dinner will be served at around seven, okay?”

You nodded, tightly, “Fine.”

 He watched you for a moment more, before finally slipping out of the door and allowing your facade to finally relax.  You crawled onto the king sized bed, and pulled the blankets up around you - finally giving way to the tears that had been scratching the back of your eyelids since the minute you woke up this morning.

And as you lay in the bed you’d share with your husband - crying once again over the man who had your heart but didn’t deserve it - you promised yourself that this would be that last time.

That you wouldn’t cry over Jeon fucking Jungkook again.

And even though you were lying to yourself, you repeated that mantra to yourself all night. Over and over again.

Until finally you fell asleep.

And even then you dreamt of him.

//

The days passed through your fingers like sand.  You spent more time than ever pining after Jungkook - qua though the two of you now shared a bed, nothing had changed. 

During the day your husband was barely home.  And even when he was he was always too busy to pay you any attention.

And at night you slept as far away from each other as possible.  Most nights were spent falling asleep to the sight of the planes of his smooth back.

Jungkook wasn’t cruel.  He always spoke to you kindly.  He smiled whenever he saw you, and occasionally laughed at any jokes you tried to make.

But he was distant.  Always held you at an arm’s length.

He never searched out your company, and you wondered if maybe that was because he knew how you felt.  He knew you loved him - he knew you’d loved him for so long - and maybe he didn’t want to make matters worse.

He had never promised you love.  In fact… He had almost promised you the polar opposite.

And so you spent most of your time alone. 

Today was no different.

You tugged on the thread you were using to patch up one of Jungkook’s suit jackets - no doubt he’d created the tears during one of his many business meetings - and sighed heavily to yourself.

You’d seen the jacket earlier that morning, hanging in your shared closet, when you’d noticed the hole.  Perhaps it was a need to make Jungkook happy, or perhaps it was boredom, but either way now you were sitting with a needle and thread, fixing it.

A knock at the door pulled you out of what you were doing.  

“Come in,” You said softly, expecting Jennie to be on the other side.  When the portal opened and it was actually Nayeon you stood excitedly, dropping Jungkook’s jacket and rushing over to her.

“Did you miss me?”  She smiled widely as you rushed into her waiting embrace, squeezing her tightly.

“Oh my god, so much,”  You pulled back and felt your eyes well up with tears, “Sorry.  I’m so emotional these days.”

She grinned and ran a hand through your hair, “Nothing to apologise for.”

You led her over to the small couch that sat in the corner of your bedroom, and the two of you sat down together.  

“How have you been?”  She asked after a moment. 

You wiped at a tear that had unceremoniously tracked down your cheek, “He barely talks to me.”

The words were not accusing, but there was sadness in them. 

Nayeon frowned, “He’s acting like a real jackass.”

“No,” You shook your head vehemently, “It’s not his fault.  This whole situation… It’s fucked up.”

“Still.  He shouldn’t be mean.”

“He isn’t,” You insisted, “We just… He’s hardly at home as it is… And when he is the last thing he wants to do is talk to me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N,” She really did look sorry too.

You shrugged helplessly, “How many marriages in Bangtan are loveless?”

“Whatever. I just hope he’s not…” She stopped herself abruptly and clicked her tongue, “Never mind.”

You quirked a brow, “No…What were you going to say Nayeon?”

”I don’t want to upset you more,” She answered honestly, eyes shifting across your face carefully.

“There’s next to nothing at the moment that could make me feel any worse.”

It was a terrible sentiment, but it was the truth. Things seemed so bleak that you couldn’t imagine any information would cause a further rift in your already distant marriage.

“It’s just…” Nayeon tugged a hand through her hair and pursed her lips, “You know what Jungkook is like. He’s always dated lots of women at the same time. I’m just - I hope he’s ended those relationships.”

Your heart sank.

Immediately his words from earlier that month rolled across your mind.

I’m not a man of commitment.

Did that mean he didn’t want to be faithful to you?  Was he warning you of his inability to keep to just one woman for the rest of his life?

You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Jungkook would cheat on you. Sure, he’d told you he might never love you… But an affair would be too much, wouldn’t it?

“I don’t - we haven’t spoken about that.” You felt your voice shake.

“I know my brother can be a bastard,” Nayeon shook her head, “But if he cheated on you… I would never forgive him.”

Her words fell on you like concrete.

Would you be able to forgive him? 

In a sense, Jungkook didn’t really owe you faithfulness did he? In fact… He might have very well warned you against it.

You swallowed thickly.

“You should ask him about it,” Your best friend’s words were resolute, “If he cares for you… Even a little bit, then he’ll give you that respect.”

She was right of course.

Arranged marriage or not, he still owed you basic decency.

You nodded gently, “You’re right.”  Your chest was tight as Nayeon reached over and squeezed your hand, “I will.”

Now you would just have to work up the courage to do it.

//

Nayeon’s words played over and over again in your mind for the following week.  You had thought you were strong enough to bring it up to your husband but the truth was every time you wanted to do it, the words had slipped into the back of your throat.  Just one look into Jungkook’s dark brown eyes and you had found yourself rendered helpless.

“Y/N.”  Jungkook’s voice caused you to look up as you finished working on his suit jacket, “Hi.”

“Oh.”  The word left you in a rush, “Sorry.  I didn’t realise you would be home so early.” It was a Friday afternoon - sometime after four - and he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom, watching you the way he always did.  

“What are you doing?” Your fingers faltered and you pulled the jacket up slightly, “Fixing this for you.  It’s been my pet project for the last week.”

“Oh.”  He mirrored your expression of surprise from earlier, taking a step towards you, “I see.” There was a beat of silence and then, “Why?” You tightened your grip on the jacket and felt your stomach roll over in anxiety.

“Why what?”

His eyes flickered, “Why are you fixing it for me?” Because I love you.

Of course you couldn't say that, so instead you opted for a shrug.

“Something to do, I suppose.”

After another long moment of watching, Jungkook smiled softly.

“Thank you,” He said, words warm, “That’s very kind of you.” You blushed at the compliment, however small it may be, and returned his smile, “It’s nothing.”

“I uh…” He cleared his throat and shook his head, “I realised that I forgot to tell you something quite important.” You cocked your head to the side, “What is it?” “Tonight.  There’s a gala.  One of Jimin’s things…”

You felt something akin to excitement swell inside of you.  It was sad… But any reason to spend time with Jungkook was something to be celebrated.  

“Right.”  Your smile widened, “What time?”

“Eight pm,” He told you carefully, “And you’ll need to dress up.” “I know that don’t worry.  I’ve been to Jimin’s galas before,” Your voice was slightly teasing and you almost reprimanded yourself for it. 

Perhaps once upon a time you could joke with Jungkook like that, but things were different now… Weren't they? Except Jungkook didn’t seem annoyed.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, “How could I forget?  You and Nayeon love causing trouble at the expense of my poor friend Jimin.” You giggled, “We both know Nayeon is the mastermind behind any and all trouble caused,” You shrugged, “I’m a helpless bystander.” “Helpless my ass,” His lips fell into a smirk, “Just because you look like an angel doesn't mean you always act like one.”

Your heart flipped.

An angel?

Jungkook must have noticed the change in your demeanor, because he suddenly seemed awkward himself.  He coughed slightly and tugged a hand through his dark hair.

“Anyway.  Just uh… be ready at half seven, alright?”  His face had slipped back into that infamous Bangtan mask, but you were still warm from his earlier words.

“Okay.  I will.” “And uh… Will the jacket be fixed for tonight?”

You felt slightly dazed.  Jacket?

“Huh?” His smile was small but he nodded towards the piece of clothing you were gripping so tightly your knuckles had turned white, “Your pet project.”

“Oh right.”  You turned the jacket over in your hands and nodded, “Yes.  Yeah.  It’ll be ready.” “Great.  I’ll have Minhyuk prepare the matching trousers for me, then.”

He smiled once more before leaving, and you realised you were holding your breath.

God.

It felt like you had been punched in the stomach.

But you sort of liked it.

//

“You look beautiful Y/N.”  Your maid Jennie tugged the brush through your hair one last time, “The red is striking.” You ran a hand down the bodice of the dress you’d chosen to wear - something stupidly expensive and incredibly tight - and smiled at her nervously.  

“Thank you.”

“Jungkook isn’t going to know what to do with himself,” She giggled and your grin widened. 

The two of you had always been close, despite the gap in social status.

You didn’t care what tradition dictated, Jennie was your friend - employee or not.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” You chuckled, biting on your bottom lip, “What time is it?” A knock at the door caused your head to turn and Jennie smirked.

“He’s right on time.” Your stomach fluttered at the thought of your husband, and when your maid moved to throw the portal open you almost fainted.

He looked… so good.

“Hi,” He smiled gently, “Are you ready?” You knew you were checking him out but you couldn’t help yourself.

The suit jacket you’d fixed for him fit him perfectly… And the trousers he was wearing only served to accentuate his perfect thighs.

“Y/N?” He cocked his head to the side and your heart twinged as a lock of hair fell precariously across his forehead.

Damn it.

Jennie pinched your arm and you realised how obvious you were being.

“Sorry,” You cleared your throat, “Yeah.  I’m ready.”

You weren’t ready at all.  Not to spend the rest of the evening in close quarters with the man who made you feel like a lovestruck teenager, anyway.

But what choice did you have?

Jungkook led you towards the garage, where his very expensive Porsche was parked, and when he held the door open for you, your pulse squeezed.

“Thanks,” You said, cheeks blazing.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered as he watched you climb inside, “No problem.”  He answered tightly, clicking the door shut and sliding into the driver’s seat.

It wasn’t until you eased onto the main road that Jungkook spoke again.

“You look nice,” He said, his eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

You turned to face him, your heart thumping uncomfortably against your ribcage, “What?”

“Oh come on don’t act like I’ve never said anything nice to you before,” He groaned, “You’ll make me feel like an asshole.”

“Oh I uh…” You blushed hotly, “Thanks.  I guess.”

“You guess?  Wow, way to take a compliment, Y/N.”  His tone was teasing and you felt yourself falling back into the friendship you’d shared with him before the two of you had been forced into marriage.

This was the Jungkook you fell in love with.

“I just didn’t expect you to say that,” You clarified, turning to look at this side profile.

God he was so handsome, it almost hurt.

“Well it’s true,” He shrugged and shot you a small smile, “You look nice.” “Well so do you.”  The words slipped out of you eagerly, “The uh… The suit jacket looks great.”

His smile grew, “It does.  Thanks to you, of course.  My little seamstress.”

Your heart skipped.

His little seamstress?

“Right,” You choked out, “Well.  If you ever need anything fixed then just send it my way.”

“I will.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you but all you could think about was the fact that he’d called you his.  Sure, it was in jest, and yeah maybe it wasn't the most romantic of things to say… But still.

It had to count for something.

When Jungkook pulled up in front of the same hotel Bangtan always used for social events, your heart was still fluttering wildly in your chest, but you forced yourself to remain calm.

There were paparazzi milling around the front entrance of the hotel of course, like there always were whenever Jimin organised a gala.  Suddenly you felt inadequate.

You’d never been photographed before - your family was not famous enough… You were not beautiful enough for the media to give a shit.

But you knew that Jungkook was well loved by the media - not only was he Bangtan’s resident casanova - but he was also the most open of the special seven.  He smiled for photos and had even occasionally bantered with the paparazzi.  He dated celebrities - models, singers… Actresses.  He was the media’s golden boy.

He was everyone’s golden boy.

Jungkook must have noticed your nerves because he turned to give you a soft smile.

“It’s alright  Y/N.  Just hold my hand and ignore them okay?”

You nodded, wordlessly, as he stepped out of the car and after a minute opened your door for you.  Immediately you felt the buzz of flashbulbs, and you were almost blinded by the light.  A warm hand enveloped your own and soon Jungkook was tugging you along.

You blinked against the flashing and watched your husband’s sturdy back, as he led you towards the front entrance determinedly.

“Jungkook!  Jungkook!  Is this your mysterious new girl?” “Jungkook!  Is it true you’re married?”

“Jungkook!  Smile!”

Jungkook didn’t stop for any questions and you were thankful for that, holding tightly onto his hand until he finally slipped inside the lobby of the hotel and the paparazzi was behind you.  He dropped your hand and you immediately felt cold.

“Here,”  He offered his arm, “This is the way Jimin’s always telling me to enter a room.” You nodded and slipped your own arm through his, ignoring the buzz that flitted through you at the contact.

God.  You loved him so much.

“Was that as bad as you thought it was going to be?”  He asked, eyes sympathetic as he led you over towards the ornate marble staircase.

You bit your bottom lip and sighed, “It was tough.”

“I’m sorry,” He frowned, “Really.  It will get better.”

“Jungkook-ah!”

You would recognise that voice anywhere.

Jihyo.

She was coming towards the two of you, beautiful face donning a wide smile.  Her eyes flickered between your linked arms for a moment, before she reached you.

“Hello Jihyo,” Jungkook nodded his head politely, “How are you?”

“I’m great Jungkookie,” The nickname caused a hot flush of anger to roll through you.  You knew exactly what game she was playing, “How are you?” “I’m fine,”  He turned to give you a smile, “You know my wife Y/N, don’t you?” Jihyo’s body froze at the word wife.  She was Taehyung’s cousin.

Surely she had to know the two of you had gotten married.

“Yeah, yeah.”  She gave you a sharp look, “Nice to see you Y/N.” But her words felt anything but nice.

Immediately you were reminded of Nayeon’s warning.

Your heart thundered against your chest.

What if Jungkook and Jihyo were….

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Anyway Jungkook I was going to ask you if you were free next weekend,” Her smile was coy as she fluttered her eyelashes up at your husband, “It’s my birthday and-” “We have plans.”

The words surprised you as much as they did Jungkook and you’d been the one to say them.

Jihyo’s gaze flickered over to your own and she raised an angry eyebrow, “What?”

“Me and my husband have plans next weekend,” You pasted the fakest smile onto your face, “Maybe next time.”

And with that you pulled Jungkook away from Jihyo pulse roaring in your ears.  You had no idea where that bout of courage had come from but just who did she think she was anyway?

Just because she’d always had everything she wanted, didn’t give her the right to act like a brat.

After a moment, Jungkook turned to give you a smirk, “What was that?” You tried to act nonchalant.

“What was what?”

“That.”  His smirk grew, “Were you jealous?” You felt something hot split across your cheeks.

“I don’t want you dating other women.”

The words fell like stones between the two of you.

Jungkook stopped, his eyes raking over you.  He frowned.

“I wouldn’t… I would never do that.” “You told me you weren’t a man of commitment,” You told him sincerely, feeling irrational tears crawl up your throat, “But I can’t… I won’t be able to deal with it if you have an affair.”

Jungkook’s eyes softened.  He shook his head.

“I didn’t mean I would see other women Y/N.”  He pressed a hand to your cheek and you wilted at his touch, “You’re my wife and I respect that.  Alright?”

You nodded, eyes boring into his.  You wished he would just open himself up to you.

“Okay.”  You whispered, not caring that you were surrounded by people, “Thank you.” He pulled his hand away and nodded gently.

Something in his gaze flickered.  Whether it was genuine affection or desire or something else entirely you weren’t sure.  But it wasn’t that cold indifference he wanted you to believe.

“Let’s go.  The others are waiting.”

Your heart turned as he slipped his hand into yours.

If only he could learn to love you, then maybe you really could be happy.

If only.

//

[yandere-daydreams]

Lucifer strives for perfection.

For himself, for his family, and for you, especially since your arrival in the Devildom. You could call it worry, if you want to, a natural concern for a creature so much more vulnerable than any of the angels he'd served or the demons he presides over. You could say he's concerned, for his reputation, at first, and then for a connection more personal than any he'd care to admit. You could tell yourself he cares about you, even if both of you know he'll never say as much out loud.

The might be why he finds it so... disagreeable, when you brush off his attempts to help you. He's never been very patient, but he tries to be, with you, and when that isn't possible, he tries to understand your anger, your frustration, the way you sulk and pout and whine when puts his foot down and refuses to let you get away with behavior you should know better than to ask him to tolerate, by now. You can call it unfair, try to say that he's hurting you, claim that what he wants isn't something you can provide, but you're only human. You're prone to trying to exaggerate, to lying to yourself, to trying to lie to him, just as he's prone to maintaining a firm hand. It's only natural you'd attempt to talk your way out of something so necessary. He'd expected this. He expected this process to be difficut.

He just hadn't expected you to be so stubborn.

Yelling, screaming, putting up such a fight when he's only trying to help you. He can disregard the nasty looks, the awful names, the way you react so poorly to any hint of affection, you have his brothers to thank for that, but he want it more with you, he needs your obedience as well as your adoration. He's willing to work to get it, too, as much as you might not admire his dedication. Even if he has to leave bruises. Even if he has to draw blood. Even if he has to listen to you go on and on about how much you hate him, he'll find a way to live with it. He'll find a way to bear the guilt.

Because he's worried about you. Because he's concerned. Because, even if you might not love him, he loves you.

Because Lucifer strives for perfection, and he'll be damned if something as trivial as your comfort get in his way.