#my mask *AND* my clothes were smothered in the crap.

[ebonyheartnet]

To whichever cheap, malevolent, piece of shit manager decided to mail a fucking 20¢ fine glitter Christmas ornament to every person in the office as our “company gift”:

May you shit diamond legos in hell and step on them in the dark when least expected

[starshipsofstarlord]

Dove

Pairing | Roman Sionis x reader

Summary | there is another little birdie that Roman spends his time with, one that coos away from the spotlight and remains hidden. She is his dove, the love that he refrains from sharing with anyone, a prisoner that does not realised that she is locked in a cage.

Warnings | mentions of violence, can be perceived as imprisonment of reader or not if you want, difficulty with getting pregnant, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Canary walked into the apartment of the boss, nervous to begin her first day at being Roman Sionis’ driver. Initially, the woman hadn’t been sure what to expect of the living space above the club, she suspected that it would be in a similar

She hadn’t asked for a promotion, the woman was content with bellowing her voice in stage, singing like a bird. But now, as a consequence for protecting the Harley Quinn, she was now a driver, a replacement for the one that no longer had the ability to move a vehicle from place to place.

Sionis’ home if it could be called that, was above the club, perched as a nest so that the man behind it all could see everything that occurred around. The windows, large and perfect for viewing out of, were great scopes out into the bustling city, to which the Black Mask brought some fear out into.

He was a killer, that was known. A torturer, a face that Gotham feared. It was merely circumstance for how Dinah ended up working for him in the first place. It was not at all what she had been aiming for, the singing gig was as far as she had assumed she would get, but now, she was starting a new and more personal job for the same scheming man.

But it appeared that she was not the only dame in Gotham that was given the request to walk into the home of Roman Sionis, for a lavished and well clothed woman stood, staring like a songbird out towards the outside world. Her eyes were cast down, surely watching the commotion that riled the streets on a daily basis.

“Ah, there you are.” The voice belonging to Roman Sionis abruptly made Dinah inwardly jump, though she didn’t allow the surprise to dictate to her body. Instead, she turned around to face the mobster, adjoined by Victor that followed after hun, an shrewd smile ragged on his face. “My new driver, are you ready for your first day.”

“Singing was kinda my thing but -“ she watched his expression fade to one folded with creases and instead plastered on a smile, quickly changing the direction of her sentence, “yes, I am. I’m not the worst driver, though, it was a shame of what happened to the last one, concerning the fault of Harley Quinn.”

Sionis rolled his eyes at the mention of the jester like woman, making a noise of disgust, before adding details to Canary’s perception. “He deserved it, that man was bound to get into trouble somewhen, the only difference is that he kept his face. He had a frequent thirst to make my dove uncomfortable, isn’t that right my lovely?”

The woman faced away from the window, glancing convincingly towards the man that had just spoken to her. Not saying a word, she nodded, feeling all the eyes except her own that were present within the premises of the room were on her. It wasn’t much different to normal, but it was a vow she had taken, she did not speak to anyone besides Roman.

Doves mated for life, and within their relationship, she insisted that she treat him the same, which was where the nickname that she had so idly been called had originated from. She was loyal to this man, who was powerful and wealthy all on his own, and that proved alone that she needed nothing more than him to be the centre of the world.

“Hi, I’m Dinah.” She attempted to greet herself, but all that she earned from the spoilt woman was a blank stare, as though she were processing the woman. “Is she okay?” Her question was directed towards either or out of the men, and assumed, it was one of them whom responded instead of her.

“Y/n.” Her eyes snapped up to meet his own, and inside, her stomach crawled as she looked up into his stern gaze. To her relief, he turned back to Dinah, after dismissing her of the title of a white bird, and striking an induction of anxiety within her gut. “She doesn’t speak to anyone, it is difficult for her to trust anyone, let alone exchange worlds with them. Is that not right dove?”

Biting her lip, to reduce the sounds of whimpers that were threatening to spill from her mouth, she stiffly nodded her head, causing a grin to smother the man’s face. “Today, Canary, you will be taking me and y/n to the clinic, we have an important appointment to attend to, is that not right my lovely girl?”

Again she nodded, feeling a pit of happiness swell in the space of her womb. She could feel her dreams moving closer to the reality that she silently lived in, the things that she greatly wanted within her reach.

“I’ll go and start the car.” Dinah announced, wanting nothing more to leave the room. The atmosphere had not at all been uncomfortable in the slightest, but it was strange to see the extraordinary owner of the club that she had worked up appear so domesticated. Though, she thought y/n to be anything but, it was as though she were scared to allow any truths to mumble from her dormant tongue.

She was sure that no one in the entire city had seen the woman out in the open and free. It would not be a surprise if she were imprisoned in that apartment, though it was confusing, for it did not seem like she wanted to leave. Instead, it appeared as though she was scared of anyone else that was not Roman.

Usually, people usually feared him, knowing full well of what he was capable of. Though, instead, y/n was comfortable in his presence, which was one strange thing out of many. Dinah was extracted from her thoughts as the back doors suspended open, the happy couple entering the vehicle, and adjusting their seat belts. “Which clinic?” She asked, glancing back in the rear view mirror at the pair.

Roman had his gloved hands trailing up the thighs of his dove, as though they were sleek platforms of ice, and his fingers were dancing upon the frozen surface. “The one around south, a few miles before that place that sells the terrible artwork.” His taste in everything gave have her an initial and well acquainted idea with what place that he was on about, and thus she started the vehicle.

The strong woman remained in silence, copying y/n’s frequent behaviour as she drove, noticing her small gestures towards the elder man. Her nose rubbed around his collar, directly breathing in the fog of his aftershave, which Dinah could smell already from the distance of the front seat. Though, it appeared sweet as the pair brushed specks of stray hairs out of the others eyes, and padded down their blazers.

Finally, the driver stopped, watching as the pair abandoned the vehicle, and went inside of the small corporative building, hand in hand. Roman’s grip was much tougher than her own, squeezing all human feeling out of her palm, half dragging her inside. Both seemed to appear eager for what lay inside, though, Dinah did not share their enthusiasm.

She had no idea of how long they would be within the clinic, and thus, she had to wait for their return before she could steer and leave. Absentmindedly, she picked the skin around her nails as she waited for Roman and y/n to come back out to the car, the wait feeling like forever as she put on the radio, bobbing her head subtly the tune that she often heard on nights out.

The driver was fast to snap her head up as she heads footsteps, and they belonged to her cruising passengers, that seemed rather deflated. Their once relaxed and worry free mood was nowhere in sight, and instead, when opening the door for y/n and climbing in afterwards, he slammed the expensive door, crossing his arms in thought.

“Is everything okay boss?” She warily asked, feeling as his eyes sent daggers towards her once she used her voice. He released a prominent scoff, shaking his head disappointedly at her enquiry. Roman repeated her question to himself, arrogantly laughing at it.

“No it’s fucking not! I don’t ask for anything, I do what I am supposed to, and the world cannot even let my dove bare my child!” He sulked in his seat, pouting profusely out the window as he once again took in the truth behind his words.

Dinah knew better than to speak, and instead left Roman and his endless rant uninterrupted. Though, as she adjusted the rear view mirror, she caught a glimpse of y/n, smirking quite pleased with the state that her lover had gotten into. It slightly scared Canary, finding the situation that she was mulling over to be silent but deadly.

So far, it was all quite clear. She did not want to carry the child of the business man, and the results that she had received were anything but a curse. She liked to think of them more as a godsend and a blessing.

[moony-to-ur-pads]

UNDER WATER

Regulus Black was drowning.

He gasped for air and found himself sucking in lungfuls of putrid, thick liquid—tar-like as it entered his lungs, threatening to smother him.

He stuck a hand out, and found stone. Something hard, something to keep him here, to ground him. It held him above the surface and he gripped onto it, fingernails scratching against it in their search for purchase.

It wasn’t enough. He was slipping under. His head beneath the surface, he didn’t have the energy to fight his way back up. Regulus sank—

“Reggie.”

The voice.

“Reggie, you’re okay.”

It was like a rope thrown out to him, a hand thrust beneath the surface. Regulus scrambled, reaching out for it.

He found it. Fistfuls of cloth between his fingers. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him in. Regulus hung onto them, let them pull him above the surface—and shaky, trembling, into their embrace.

Regulus buried his face against his brother’s chest.

“You’re okay,” Sirius whispered.

At first, he couldn’t speak.

He found the words, but not the breath, and he hung there gasping like a mermaid out of water. It took him a while to force anything out. “Mother, she—”

“Doesn’t know a thing. About your part in this, at least. Thinks I forced you to come with me—a hostage situation type thing, you know?”

“But she yelled at you,” Regulus mumbled, voice muffled by Sirius’ clothes. “She was furious.”

Sirius always took the blame. Always.

And, as always, he laughed, as if it hardly mattered. Regulus pulled his head off his chest, looked up at his brother’s face.

Unworried, carefree. A grin, ear-to-ear. So obnoxiously, pig-headed-ly reckless.

“Reggie, you know I don’t give a crap. I gave all my craps away years ago, I’m crap-broke.”

A lame joke. Regulus have a lame chuckle, choking on tears.

Sirius’ eyes scanned his face. They were unrevealing, as ever, their emotion hidden behind a carelessly smiling mask.

But Sirius was looking for something on Regulus, that much he could tell—his brother’s eyes were narrowed, his eyebrows creased. Was it worry? Perhaps.

“I’m fine, Sirius,” Regulus mumbled. “Just upset. This was my fault.”

“No. It wasn’t. This was as much my fault as it was yours. But what’s the point of your birthday falling in summer break if we don’t celebrate it?”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t’ve suggested the movies. I knew mother would have hated it.”

“Ah, well,” Sirius winked, “Even posh tossers like you deserve a little fun from time to time.”

Regulus relaxed his grip on Sirius and they pulled apart.

He felt shaky, tired. But here was air around him—cool, and breathable. Here was solid ground beneath his feet. Here was Sirius, the hand that pulled him up above the surface.

“You don’t always have to take the fall for everything, you know?” Regulus said, with a little sigh. “You could leave some for the rest of us.”

“I’m your older brother, Reggie. It’s in the job description—being there for you.”

A protector—a shield against their mother, a lifebuoy that kept Regulus above the water. That was what Sirius had always been.

It was different now. It had been different for a while.

…

In the distance, screams.

Above the water, Regulus thought, dimly. That was what it sounded like—muffled and other-worldly.

He was sucking in air—trying to, but he couldn’t. He was surrounded by something viscous and tar-like, the world dimming to darkness as its black veil fell.

He was drowning.

Regulus sunk—

To the floor. He hit carpet and crawled against the wall, drawing his legs to his chest. Regulus buried his face against his knees, feeling the tears on his cheeks sink into his trousers, plastering the cloth to his knees.

“I don’t even know why I stayed this fucking long!” Sirius howled.

“Give me your wand, Sirius. And don’t you dare use it.”

Their mother’s voice was cold, calm, barely raised above a whisper—and yet somehow it carried through the entire house.

“You know—” Sirius’ voice was battling against sobs. “The Potters, they don’t care. They love me. I’m better off there. I can’t stay here. I won’t!”

Regulus’ lungs were burning. His heart was a thudding metronome, beating in his ears. He pulled at his hair and took a shaky gasp, forcing the thick tar down his throat, forcing himself to breathe and hold it down.

“Get away from me!” A shriek, jagged around the edges, ripped from his brother’s throat. A thud. A silence.

Regulus almost hoped that it was over.

Then shouting again.

This time was different. This fight, it was worse than the others, worse than it had ever been.

But even still, Regulus half-expected Sirius to come climbing up the stairs at any moment. Just as he’d always done, every other time—teary-faced from shouting, perhaps; limping a little and exhausted, maybe. But always there, always appearing on the landing. Always there.

Whatever condition Sirius was in, however much she’d pressed him and railed at him and hurt him, every time he came stumbling up those stairs, he never forgot Reggie. Sirius would never forget to pull him into his arms, to hold him above the surface, to let his brother breathe and find his feet before he let go.

It was selfish that Regulus had come to need those moments, to still need it as he listened to Sirius yelling in the downstairs parlour. But he’d convinced himself that, maybe, those hugs—the gold star amongst their limited interactions these days—were as much a need for Sirius as they were for him. That Regulus held him up above the water, just as Sirius did him.

Maybe that was true. Maybe it wasn’t.

Regulus couldn’t tell. He had never really gotten the hang of reading the array of flickering lights that turned on and off behind his older brother’s eyes.

A flash of red against the wall of the stairway.

Screams, howls—Regulus thought of a dying dog.

Another flash of red, another scream.

Regulus pressed his hands to his ears and closed his eyes, praying for it to be over. Praying for a hand thrust beneath the surface, someone to pull him out.

No one came to save him.

At some point, he heard a door slam.

He’s not coming back, Regulus thought. Somehow, he knew it was true.

So Regulus sank. Alone.

…

Snivelling, sobbing, grimy hands grabbing at the hem of his robes.

“Master Regulus, Kreacher is so sorry. Master Regulus, Kreacher is so sorry.” He stammered the words like a chant, head bowed, tears running down his long nose. “Kreacher couldn’t bear it, master. Kreacher had to.”

Regulus felt sick. His head was spinning, his ears pounding. He was on the floor, slumping against something hard—it jabbed into his back.

For a minute, he thought this was another memory. Another sick non-reality.

But no. This was the cave. This was real. And maybe this was worse.

A goblet lay at their feet. Water had formed a little puddle where it had fallen, spilling from the lip.

Regulus’ lips were moist too. A trail of water inched down his chin.

The fire, the burning in his throat, his mind, his chest—it was extinguished.

How?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Slosh.

The silence of the cave, broken.

Something moving in the dark.

Realisation struck Regulus like cold water, as if he’d been dumped, bound, in an icy lake.

“You touched the water,” he gasped out.

Regulus staggered to his feet, gripping the basin to stay standing, his knuckles white with the effort.

The other hand ran through his pockets. The frantic search came up empty, and Regulus gave a low gasp, a terrified moan. His eyes scanned the ground, searching in the dim light.

He was sinking in that icy lake. He was sinking fast.

Where was his wand?

He’d dropped it—he must’ve, when he was drinking the potion. He imagined he’d thrashed. He imagined he’d screamed.

It must have rolled down the banks of the stone island, dropped into the dark, dark water…

“Oh, Kreacher…” Regulus gasped.

A slosh of water. A fleshy slap against stone.

Something moving in the dark.

“Kreacher is sorry,” the house elf wailed.

Regulus couldn’t breathe.

He had to keep his head. He had to concentrate.

He shoved a hand into his pocket—a final vain attempt at salvation—and found cool metal instead of wood.

The locket.

This he had to do. This, or it was all for nothing.

He dropped the fake locket into the empty basin. It clattered against the sides with a metallic tinkling, a jarring sound against the relative hush of the cave.

And yet it hardly echoed. That was how it was, here. In this smothering darkness, this cave of the dead.

Regulus heard the dripping again.

No longer monotonous. Now there was a chorus, and it was growing, a steady crescendo.

Regulus scooped the real locket out of the basin and dropped to his knees. It was hot against his palm, unnaturally fiery. He pressed it into Kreacher’s hands.

The elf’s face, illuminated by the light of the island, glowed a pale green. His eyes were yawning caverns, pulled back in fright. He was trembling.

“Kreacher,” Regulus gasped out. “We don’t have much time. They’re coming, see? What’s important is—is that this, this is safe. You understand? I can’t apparate here, but you—”

“No!” Kreacher squealed.

Regulus chanced a glance about him, glancing towards the water. It was futile. The green light of the island all but blinded them, turned the darkness around them into an impenetrable fortress of the dead.

But Regulus could hear them.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

They were growing closer.

He turned back to the elf. Forced himself to breathe, to speak, to stammer out what he could. “Leave. Please, Kreacher.”

The house elf trembled. He shook his head stubbornly, ears wagging, a bony hand reaching out to grab at Regulus’ cloak.

“K-Kreacher I… I command it, okay? I command it! Leave!”

Kreacher flinched, as if he’d been slapped. He drew back.

He shivered, clutching the locket to his chest, wide, dark eyes bearing into Regulus’ until that final, resounding—

Crack.

Alone.

Regulus got to his hands and knees and searched around the basin then, fingers running over the cold stone in search of his wand.

Futile. He knew it. He didn’t care.

He searched until the first hand grabbed him.

An icy grip. Cold. Regulus barley resisted as it dragged him towards the water.

You thought you could trick the Dark Lord and walk away laughing. You thought. Ha!

Regulus was no stranger to drowning. He knew what it was like to feel empty, breathless; to choke, to scramble for purchase in nothingness as you sank.

Once upon a time, Sirius had always been there to pull him to the surface.

But that time was over. His brother was gone.

Even so, as Regulus slipped beneath the waves, he couldn’t help but cling to that hope.

A dying man’s last hope.

“I’m your older brother, Reggie. It’s in the job description—being here for you.”

As ludicrous as it seemed—maybe this time, he’d stick to his word. Maybe now, when it mattered the most.

Maybe he’d be here. Maybe he’d come back.

Maybe.

[angelofthequeers]

One Brain Cell Between Three People

 Rating: T

Summary: Or: five times these disaster humans had to disguise themselves and the one time they didn't.

Slot: 2.5k+ fic.

Written for an anonymous donor for the @mlbforblm drive, with all profits going right to Color of Change! I hope you love these disasters! The response to the drive was absolutely overwhelming, and I’m touched to have been commissioned for it!

AO3 link

1. From an akuma

“So, Ladybug!” Chat Noir says brightly. “If you’ve got any brilliant plans to get us up to Sauron out there, I’m sure we’d love to hear them!”

Ryuuko doesn’t have a clue who Sauron is, nor how it relates to the massive tentacled monster with one gigantic red eye that’s resting on the tip of the Eiffel Tower. They’ve tried coming from all angles, but the akuma’s eye seems to have a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree field of vision, because it always sees them coming and bats them away as easily as swatting mosquitoes.

“Why do I have to come up with the plans?” Ladybug grumbles. Chat Noir’s cheeky grin widens.

“Because you’re the brains, milady, and I’m just the humble clown.”

“Your brain was working just fine against Miracle Queen!”

Ryuuko tunes out their banter as she peeks around the corner of the wall behind which they’re hiding. Her brain leaps from idea to idea like arcs of lightning, zapping each one to a crisp when she picks out the flaws, because all of them rely on not being seen and there’s no way to accomplish that against this akuma. It seems to have flawless superhero senses, because it always sees right past the terrified civilians to pick out the superheroes –

Wait…

“I have an idea,” Ryuuko announces. Her teammates’ banter immediately dissipates. “The akuma is ignoring anyone who isn’t directly working against it. It’s almost like it just wants to keep surveillance on everyone.”

“You could say it wants to keep an eye on people,” Chat Noir says cheerfully. Ladybug sighs and facepalms.

“Low-hanging fruit, kitty,” she mutters. Ryuuko just raises an eyebrow and waits for them to finish.

“If we want to get close, we need to not be what it’s looking for,” she says.

“Like sneaking into Le Grand Paris disguised as a pizza delivery person because that’s not what Chloé Bourgeois is expecting you to be even though she knows you’re trying to get back something she stole from you?” Ladybug says. Chat Noir blinks.

“That’s, uh…incredibly specific,” he says. “And I’m not sure I want to know why. You were saying, Ryuuko?”

Unlike Chat Noir, Ryuuko does want to know the context behind Ladybug’s very specific example, because it’s exactly the kind of thing that Marinette would do. The thought of her girlfriend brings a small smile to her lips, just as when she thinks about her boyfriend Adrien. It’s a pity they aren’t superheroes, to be honest; they’d be fantastic, but Ryuuko’s not in any position to make suggestions, so she keeps this to herself.

“Different,” Ryuuko finally manages to say. “We need to not look like superheroes.”

“Disguises!” Ladybug jumps from foot to foot. “I’m so good with disguises! I’ve snuck into the hotel! And a party everyone threw for the guy I liked who’s now my boyfriend since I wasn’t allowed in for being a girl –”

“Why, milady, if your boyfriend didn’t recognise you beneath your strong disguise, he can’t be that much of a keeper,” Chat Noir says.

“My boyfriend is very much a keeper, thank you very much!” Ladybug huffs. “He’s one of the smartest people I know! Apart from Ka – uh, my girl –”

“Akuma,” Ryuuko interjects. Ladybug and Chat Noir jump.

“Right! Akuma!” Ladybug unslings her yo-yo. “There was a costume store on the next street over! For disguises!”

Getting to the store takes far longer than it should, but since there’s a giant eye in the sky, Ryuuko’s sure they could be forgiven for having to be extra slow and cautious. Once Ladybug’s shut the doors behind them and dragged over a chair for good measure, the three of them get to work browsing the multitudes of costume clothing and accessories to find the best pieces to conceal their most obvious features.

“I wish all akumas could be this fun,” Chat Noir beams as he tries on a cowboy hat. “They’re all get out there, get the crap beat out of us, milady comes up with an amazing plan, we’re done. Not that I don’t love the times I get to see Ladybug, of course.”

“I know what you mean,” Ladybug says. Ryuuko slaps a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles at the sight of Ladybug, hero of Paris, wearing a massive blue feather boa and round glasses. “We’ve been doing this for so long that it’s become…monotonous, you know? The only real variety is my Charm.”

“Not the akumas?” Ryuuko says as she selects a long blonde wig, then shudders and replaces it after a moment. Too similar to Chloé Bourgeois. And while they might both be rich girls with mother issues, Ryuuko refuses to think of herself as anything like that spoilt brat, especially after the stunt she’d pulled as Miracle Queen.

Okay, so Ryuuko doesn’t actually remember that, and Chloé does apparently have some semblance of a heart, but still. Ryuuko’s not known for her forgiveness, especially with how much nastier Chloé’s been since that incident.

“Milady! Milady!” Chat Noir yanks out a ladybug-patterned onesie. “I could be you!”

Ladybug snorts. “In your dreams, kitty. You could never be me.”

“But I was once!” Chat Noir tilts his head like a curious kitten would. “Remember?”

“Yes, and you were just amazing at it,” Ladybug says dryly.

“You weren’t any better, Lady Noire!”

“Excuse me? I was perfect!”

“Explain the Cata – uh, power mess-up, then!”

“I still had to figure out the Luc – the Charm!”

“And I could’ve told you not to dust the sentimonster!”

Ryuuko just ignores their arguing this time. Maybe it’s better for them to get it out now, so that they’re focused when facing the akuma. She loses track of time as she sifts through the costumes, wondering why she’s even being so picky in the first place since it’s just to disguise herself from an akuma. Then again, Kagami Tsurugi would never be caught dead in a clown costume, even as Ryuuko. Maybe it’s a good thing to have more refined tastes.

“Hey, guys!” Ladybug says. Ryuuko turns to see Ladybug picking up a large box, having dumped its contents on the ground, and she grins and drops it over her head. “Look, I’m a bug in a box! The perfect disguise! He’ll never know it’s me under here!”

“Come on!” Marinette’s whisper is marred by giggles as she holds out boxes to Adrien and Kagami. “Let’s hide from your bodyguard in these! He’ll never know it’s us under here!”

In that moment – by the silliest way possible – Ryuuko suddenly knows. Now there’s a name to the face beneath the scarlet mask; the face with the bright blue eyes and freckles, framed by pigtails – pigtails! – and currently wearing the same silly smile that Ryuuko has seen a thousand times as Kagami and looks forward to seeing a thousand times more.

Oh, it’s too bad that she can’t tell Adrien that he’s dating Ladybug. His massive superhero crush on her is more obvious than the fact that there’s next to nothing in that pretty head of his. Actually, that’s not fair; Adrien is very smart, but he’s also one of the densest people that Kagami has ever met. Being with him is just like working with Chat Noir, who’s got a very sharp mind when it’s needed –

“Does this make me the Chat in the Hat?” Chat Noir says as he dons a top hat and Ladybug’s laughter grows louder.

– but is also far more of an idiot than anyone has the right to be. It’s a wonder that poor, bi Kagami didn’t trip over herself around Chat Noir like she did with Ladybug, considering how similar he is to Adrien –

Ryuuko freezes. No. No way. There’s no way all three of them could be that lucky; that Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, were pining for each other this whole time, that Ryuuko fell for the two people who happened to be the heroes of Paris, that there’s a reason why Chat Noir showed her so much care after she was Oni-Chan and why Ladybug was so sweet and understanding of her failures as both Kagami and Ryuuko –

“– something picked out, Ryuuko?” Ladybug’s – Marinette’s – voice pierces the fog that’s descended on Ryuuko and shrouded her thoughts with realisation after realisation as she combs through every memory of her interactions with them. “I mean, this has been really fun, but we probably should get back to doing actual superhero things.”

Ryuuko takes a deep breath to ground herself. She’s far better trained than this; she shouldn’t allow herself to be so distracted during a mission. “Yes, I’m ready,” she says and grabs the first armful of cloth and accessories that she can find. She can fall apart later. Right now, she has a job to do, and she’s not going to let her partners down.

2. From Paris

Kagami loves her boyfriend and girlfriend. She really does. But there are times where she wonders if being with them is worth the constant emotional turmoil that they always seem to put her through.

“The fattoush looks good,” says Adrien, who’s seated across from Kagami. The fact that he’s wearing a hideous straw brim hat and sunglasses so appalling that they would give his father an aneurysm on the spot is the source of Kagami’s current agony. “But I’m tempted to go for the kibbeh, just because Father would die if he knew that I was eating something fried.”

“Do it,” Marinette says immediately. Kagami’s pain is compounded by the fact that her girlfriend is wearing a pair of glasses with a large fake nose and moustache attached, along with a sickeningly horrible pink poncho. But then again, for a budding fashion designer to wear something so awful? Maybe she’s smarter than Kagami had first thought.

Of course she is, says a traitorous little voice in Kagami’s brain. She’s Marinette. She’s Ladybug. But even being Ladybug isn’t enough to save her from Kagami’s judgement. Why couldn’t Adrien and Marinette have just worn an oversized hoodie like she did?

Okay, so it’s Adrien’s oversized hoodie, and the smell of him envelops her like a warm hug whenever she ducks her face down beneath the collar, but still.

“Done,” Adrien says and slams his menu down. The couple at the next table over stare at him, but his disguise seems to work because they might think he’s a weirdo, but they don’t appear to think that he could be Adrien Agreste. “What about you, Gami?”

As always, Kagami’s insides flutter at Adrien’s use of his and Marinette’s nickname for her. She clears her throat and squints down at her menu, which may as well be written in English what with how nothing seems to compute in her brain, and she blurts out the first thing she sees. “Shish barak.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Sure, if you’re into yoghurt.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna steal just my food?” Adrien complains. “Maybe I should order the shish barak too, so you leave my food alone.” He’s promptly shut down by Marinette giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“No, you’re getting the kibbeh,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m getting the kibbeh,” Adrien parrots robotically. Marinette smiles sweetly.

“And I’ll have the djaj mashwi,” she says, while Kagami ponders the merits of slamming her head on the table at the sheer display of Ladybug and Chat Noir energy from her two oblivious idiots. “I’m in the mood for chicken.”

Kagami pushes all thoughts of clobbering her partners’ heads together away as Adrien plays foot wrestling with her under the table and Marinette waves a waiter over to order. For now, she’s just going to enjoy this silly date in their silly disguises.

3. From Lila

She’s everywhere.

She’s hanging off Adrien on his way to fencing. She’s tangling their legs together when she crashes their study dates. She’s smothering the air around them with her cloying citrusy perfume as she laughs far too loudly at Adrien’s joke during a friends’ hangout.

And there’s nothing that Adrien can do about it. If he does one thing that even hints at defiance, Lila Rossi will go running straight back to tattle to his father like the venomous little muse she is. Even the fact that Adrien’s taken – by two people – has done nothing to dissuade her. If anything, she takes this as an open invitation.

“Oh, this kind of thing is very common in Italy!” Lila had crooned one day when Kagami had – very politely, in her opinion, since no swords were involved – asked her to please take her hands off Kagami’s and Marinette’s boyfriend, thank you very much. “It was so good to learn that Adrien had two girlfriends! There’s so much love in his heart…and so much room for more…”

It’s a sunny afternoon after school when Kagami finally snaps. Not at Lila; no, she knows very well what Gabriel would do in retaliation if his precious spy was hurt in any way. Rather, as soon as fencing is over and she’s changed out of her sweaty gear, she barges into the boys’ bathroom with her heavier-than-usual fencing bag.

“Kagami!” Adrien yelps and slaps his hands over his nipples. Kagami rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have breasts, Adrien,” she says with every ounce of patience that she’s had to curate since learning her partners’ secret identities. “And it’s nothing that Marinette and I haven’t seen before. Speaking of Marinette, hurry up and get dressed.”

“Why?” Adrien hurries to throw on his top, further confirming Kagami’s suspicion that he’s started changing after fencing as slowly as possible to put off the moment he has to leave and be accosted by Lila. “Is she hurt? Did Lila or Chloé throw her over the balcony or something?”

“Not yet,” Kagami mutters. She rummages in her fencing bag for Adrien’s oversized hoodie that she’s…ahem, delayed returning. Because she has definitely intended to return it. Eventually. Which is now. “She’s letting Lila…spout hot air? Is that the saying?”

“And you left them alone together?” Adrien snatches his hoodie and tries to yank it on so quickly that his head ends up caught in the sleeve with his arm. Sighing, Kagami helps him correct his mistake while trying as hard as possible not to let her fond smile at her boyfriend’s dorkiness slip through.

“Marinette can handle herself.” Kagami fishes out a pair of sunglasses and a green baseball cap. “It’s Lila I’d be worried about. In any case, she’s keeping Lila occupied, but there’s only so much threatening and bragging that Lila can do before she grows bored.”

“Then what’s –?”

“We’re sneaking you out. Come on.”

Kagami tugs Adrien over to one of the tiny windows in the bathroom. Then, in one smooth movement, she crouches and cups her hands for Adrien’s foot. Gritting her teeth and drawing on every bit of athletic strength she has, she propels Adrien up to the window and locks herself in place so that he can pop the latch and push the window open.

“Damn it!” Adrien curses when the locker room door opens. Kagami prays it’s not –

“Adrien?” Lila’s sickly-sweet voice echoes in the locker room. Thank goodness for bathroom doors, or she’d have caught them in a heartbeat. “Where are you? I didn’t see you walk out.”

With newfound fervour and a boost from Kagami, Adrien grabs the windowsill and propels himself upwards. He almost doesn’t fit – Kagami holds her breath when he ends up stuck halfway out and curses – but then he forces out a loud breath of air for just that little less abdominal width and manages to slide fully out the window. Kagami just has to assume that he’s fine and has no serious injuries from his landing, although being hurt would probably be preferable to him over dealing with Lila.

She gives it to the count of ten, then flushes a random toilet and washes her hands before pushing the bathroom door open. Lila immediately materialises in front of her.

“Kagami! Hi!” Lila says with a very fox-like smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to use the boys’ bathroom.”

Kagami shrugs. “After you called me a boy with boobs the other day, I figured it shouldn’t matter if I used the boys’ bathroom. There’s really no difference except for the urinals. And the stench. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Oh, I was only teasing.” Lila sounds like she was doing anything but. “Where’s Adrien? He’s usually finished changing by now.”

“I don’t know,” Kagami says with another shrug. “He’s not in the bathroom either, though. You can go and see for yourself.”

Before Lila can take up any more of her precious time, Kagami brushes past her and out of the locker room. As soon as the door swings shut behind her, she lets her giggle break free into her hand and pulls out her phone to check in with her accomplices – er, her partners. Now she truly understands the saying “being bad has never felt so good”.

4. From an akuma take 2

“I seriously want to know what goes through Hawkmoth’s mind half the time,” Misterbug complains. He deflects a burst of pink perfume with his yo-yo, then ducks so that Lady Noire can jab Princess Fragrance with her staff. “Like, remember the days we thought he was Mr Agreste? And then I realised ‘no, he can’t be, because Mr Agreste at least has some creativity!’”

Ryuuko isn’t sure whether she wants to pat Misterbug on the head in agreement or slap him to get his head back in the game. To be fair to Hawkmoth, Puppeteer had been one of his most powerful akumas with her ability to control someone if she has a doll or similar representation of them, so akumatising her for a third time isn’t too foolish of a move. And considering that Ladybug and Chat Noir merchandise is very widespread, the decision to swap their Miraculouses like with Reflekdoll had been inevitable. Ryuuko’s never been more grateful that she’s not considered a steady enough temporary hero to have merchandise made of her, so there’s no way for Puppeteer to control her.

If she’s honest, Ryuuko can’t really scold Misterbug for not fully focusing. Not when she has to spend a whole mission with her girlfriend in a tight black catsuit. And while Ryuuko is very much asexual, only a fool would deny the sheer beauty of Marinette Dupain-Cheng with a long braid and a suit sculpted to her body and an uncharacteristic smirk on her face that’s much more reminiscent of Chat Noir than Ladybug. If Ryuuko had even an iota of artistic skill, she’d spend hours just trying to capture Marinette’s beauty in all forms, starting with the feline goddess who’s just managed to trick Silencer and Jackady into hitting each other. Silencer immediately starts to cluck like a chicken, while Jackady frantically starts shuffling his cards, trying to make his power work without his voice.

“Heads up!” Tortue Verte’s shield whizzes over Lady Noire’s head and nails Darkblade right in the face. She whoops and punches the air. “Strike! I could so get used to this.”

“As hot as you look in my colours, babe,” says Foxtrot, using his flute to keep panther Animan’s jaws away from him while he’s sprawled on the road, “I kinda miss Rena. And using the shield. Never thought it’d suck to have merch of me.”

Knowing that Ladybug is Marinette, Ryuuko’s almost certain of the identities of Tortue Verte and Foxtrot, aka Rena Rouge and Carapace. But considering that they’re in the middle of a battle and there are several brainwashing akuma puppets, she buries that thought very deep down and instead focuses on deflecting one of Reverser’s paper planes with her sword. There’ll be time later to muse on secret identities, when they’re not in the heat of one of the most chaotic battles that Paris has ever seen.

5. From Gabriel

Death is far too good for Gabriel Agreste.

“Breaking up with Adrien is the last thing we’re going to do,” Kagami says as Marinette sobs hysterically into her chest on the soft pink chaise. The anger simmering beneath her skin is almost at boiling point, threatening to bubble over and explode out of her, and her crying girlfriend is the only thing keeping her grounded. One of them has to be on the lookout for akumas, and it’s most definitely not going to be Marinette in her current state.

“B-But you heard M-Mr Agreste,” Marinette chokes out. “He’ll p-pull Adrien from school. And – your m-mother – we’re j-just a d-distraction to you – he said she told him –”

“Rubbish.” Kagami runs her fingers through Marinette’s hair and presses a soft kiss to her head. So many years of being hard, of compartmentalising her irrelevant and distracting emotions to please her mother, to live up to the Tsurugi name, and then she’d met the boy and girl of her dreams and now she’s alive, and she feels so strongly, and no one is going to take this away from her. What is honour if it means turning her back on those who need her? On those she cares about?

“B-But –”

“No. Marinette, listen to me.” Kagami cups Marinette’s cheek and guides her face up. The sight of her girlfriend’s red-rimmed blue eyes is enough for the poisonous rage inside her to almost break free, but she forces it back down as though it’s a rabid animal on a leash. If Marinette gets akumatised, all is lost; not only because she’s Ladybug, but because she’s one of the kindest, sweetest, most amazing people that Kagami has ever had the fortune to meet. And if Kagami gets akumatised, the emotional toll of having to defeat and purify her will more than likely be too much for Marinette to bear after everything else that’s happened today.

“Kagami…?”

Kagami blinks and shakes her head to clear her tumultuous thoughts. Later. She can process her own emotions later. For now, Marinette needs her.

“I’ve never been more focused since meeting you and Adrien,” Kagami says. “And if Mother even tries to argue, I have a whole presentation prepared. I’m serious. I have it saved on my flash drive.”

Marinette lets out a weak giggle. Kagami basks in the glow of this laughter, as tiny as it is, because it’s tangible proof that, as awful as she can be interacting with other people, she’s improving. She knows enough to support one of the people dearest to her.

“Mother might not have been happy, but she didn’t try and interfere,” Kagami continues. “She said that so long as my focus did not waver, she would give me her tentative blessing. I suspect that Adrien’s father has spoken to her and persuaded her that you are a negative influence on me and Adrien. That will change once I talk to her.”

“And…Adrien?”

“We’ll work it out.” Kagami leans in and leaves a soft little kiss on the top of Marinette’s nose, and she’s rewarded with another watery yet musical giggle. “The only thing we’re not going to do is break up with him. That will crush him. We’re going to tell him exactly what his father said.”

“We can’t!” Marinette jerks back and almost topples backward off her chaise, if not for Kagami’s arms around her. “Mr Agreste will pull him out of school and he’ll never get to see his friends again and he’ll know it’s all my fault and he’ll be unhappy for the rest of his life and end up turning to evil and working with Hawkmoth and we’ll never marry him and have three kids – more if you want them but I want three and they’ll be Emma and Hugo and Louis – and a hamster called –”

“How do you even have enough breath to say all of that?” Kagami says, trying not to pass out just from following Marinette’s catastrophising ramblings. Marinette laughs rather hysterically.

“It’s a gift. But we can’t tell him! He’d refuse to break up and I’d be responsible for him losing everything!”

“Shouldn’t he have that choice?” Kagami says. “Everyone around him tries to control him. Adrien deserves to be able to make that choice. And this isn’t solely on your shoulders. We’re both dating him.”

“But…how do we talk to him?” Marinette whispers. Now she’s slumping against Kagami with fluttering eyes, as though she’d just participated in an extremely strenuous bout of fencing and is two minutes from passing out. Considering her anxiety-ridden ramblings from just before, she probably has exerted that much energy, just mentally rather than physically. “His father will never let him out. We’d have to stand at the front door, and he’d know as soon as we tried to talk to Adrien.”

“We default to our usual plan.” Kagami gently untangles herself from Marinette so that she can cross over to Marinette’s wardrobe and start rummaging inside. “Disguises.”

“But what good is that going to do?”

“Plausible deniability. Adrien’s bodyguard is a very firm ally, but even he can’t ignore direct orders. However, if he allowed Adrien out to talk to some friends instead of his girlfriends…”

“Of course!” Marinette breathes. Kagami is suddenly tackled from behind and is forced to throw her hands out and grab the sides of Marinette’s wardrobe to prevent herself from faceplanting. “Gami, you’re a genius! I love you, I love you, I love you!”

The poisonous anger that had been burning through Kagami’s body dissipates at Marinette’s words and gives way to soft warmth, like the sun is shining inside her. Once her legs are steady underneath her, she turns and wraps her arms around Marinette, who’s now trying to plaster every inch of her face with kisses.

“I had to bring something to this relationship, didn’t I?” Kagami says. “You and Adrien are far too chaotic to be left alone. Come on, help me pick out some disguises so we can go and talk to Adrien.”

+1

Kagami had never imagined that Hawkmoth’s defeat would go this way.

It was supposed to be glorious. A fantastic final battle full of clashing superpowers and pumping adrenaline.

But no. Adrien had caught a glimpse of Nooroo – Hawkmoth’s kwami – during a visit to his father’s office to confront Gabriel for his stunt regarding Marinette and Kagami and trying to break the three of them up. From there, it had been far too easy for Ladybug and Chat Noir to simply sneak in and steal the Butterfly Miraculous after Adrien had somehow slipped some sleeping pills into his father’s expensive whiskey.

(Or rather, Plagg had done that part, but Kagami’s not supposed to know about her boyfriend being Chat Noir, so she’s considerately refrained from pointing out the flaws in the “official” story).

Gabriel and Nathalie – aka Mayura – had been arrested the following day. In the wake of their arrests, Kagami had thought that Adrien would jump at the chance to be done with them and pretend they never existed. But her boyfriend had proven that, despite the years of emotional abuse he’d been forced to endure, he’s still got one of the biggest hearts that Kagami has ever seen.

“I love them,” Adrien had whispered into a midnight three-way cuddle, finally allowed to crack and break down after so much time fearing the consequences of emotional vulnerability. “After everything they did to Paris…to me…there’s a part of me that still…I don’t want to forgive them, but I don’t want to hate them. I just want them to…not be. You know?”

And that leads to now. Kagami, Alya, and Nino have been gathered in Adrien’s temporary suite in Le Grand Paris, where he’s been staying until his bodyguard can be awarded permanent custody since Emilie Agreste had been laid to rest just days before.

“Thank you for coming,” Ladybug begins, wringing her hands. “I know that there wasn’t really a final battle or anything –”

“Pity,” Nino mutters. “Been looking forward to smacking that guy in the face for years.”

“– but I still wanted to thank you for stepping up and putting yourselves on the line,” Ladybug continues, while Chat Noir’s lips twitch at Nino’s comment. “I trust the other heroes, of course, but you three are, well…I’d trust you with my life. And with what Chat Noir and I are about to reveal.”

Chat Noir’s lips quirk again, but it’s hollow. A small part of Kagami wonders if it’s appropriate for her to know exactly why, when even his own superhero partner doesn’t know.

“Even though Hawkmoth and Mayura are gone, there’s still so much to do with the Miraculouses,” Ladybug says. “Petty crimes, little acts of goodness…and figuring out how to do this whole Guardian thing. Part of that is not leaving the kwamis locked up in the Box for centuries. So, now that Hawkmoth is gone, and identities aren’t an issue anymore…”

Alya almost faints when Ladybug retrieves the Fox Miraculous from her yo-yo and holds it out. She stretches her hand out to take it, pauses with her fingers right above the golden chain, and she only snatches it away and hugs it to her chest with squeals of ecstasy when Ladybug smiles and nods. Nino actually yanks Ladybug in for a tight hug when she gives him the Turtle Miraculous before letting go to talk to the turtle kwami that had materialised, just as Alya is currently chatting away to the fox kwami so fast that her words are almost just a buzzing sound.

It takes every ounce of willpower for Kagami to not lose her composure and shriek when Ladybug presents her with the Dragon Miraculous. Instead, she forces herself to contain the energy that’s vibrating beneath her very skin, and she bows her head and accepts the choker from her masked girlfriend.

“Greetings, Kagami-san!” Longg says once she’s appeared in a flash of red light. “I am thrilled that you are to be my permanent holder!”

“As am I, Longg-sama,” Kagami says with a smile and holds out a hand for Longg to settle on.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Ladybug says when Kagami, Alya, and Nino have finally exhausted themselves from excitement, “Chat Noir and I have something that we want to tell you.”

Chat Noir reaches out and takes Ladybug’s hand with a small smile. Alya looks like she’s going to burst with excitement, but that’s nothing compared to her reaction after Ladybug and Chat Noir utter their next words.

“Spots off.”

“Claws in.”

As soon as their transformation lights fade, it becomes painfully obvious that they hadn’t revealed themselves to each other before this moment. Alya’s screaming – muffled into a pillow to avoid security rushing up to them – and Nino’s wordless gaping are to be expected. What’s not expected is the way Marinette and Adrien take one look at each other, then squeal and jump apart.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” they bellow. Their kwamis, meanwhile, are doubled over in mid-air with laughter.

“Dude!” Nino holds up his hands with the look of someone who’s doing ten equations at once in their heads while being utterly awful at mathematics.

“My best friend is Ladybug!” Alya shrieks. “Since when? How the hell didn’t you two figure it out from being together? Is that why you gave me the Fox? And missed class all the time? And all the times you flaked – you were off being Ladybug – my best friend –”

Kagami just stands in the centre of this storm and smiles down at Longg.

“And you!” Alya jabs a finger at Kagami. “How the hell did you manage to land Ladybug and Adrien Agreste? Tell us mere mortals your secret!”

“You’re not even surprised?” Marinette splutters. “How did you –?”

“Because unlike others in this room…” Kagami takes a step forward and leans in. Marinette and Adrien lean back with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “I have a brain cell.” Then she leans back and savours the mixture of indignation and awe on her partners’ faces. She might pay for this later, but for now? She’s going to savour this sweet, sweet victory while she can, before Marinette and Adrien team up to punish her.

She won’t complain too much, though. She’s sure they’ll work out an appropriate punishment…like kissing her until her brain melts. She can live with that.

[torannosaurusrexy]

Champagne & Pools

Chapter 1/?: “Commando”

➝ Genre: Fic

➝ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook | Reader

WARNING: This AU contains language, recreational drug usage, and sexual themes that some readers may find unsettling, please take caution when reading.

➝ Word Count: 5.2k

➝ Summary: After a night full of red solo cups, gyrating bodies, and too many hot frat boys to count ends, you wake without a memory of it. Jungkook however, remembers all of it, and will do whatever he has to to convince you that it was the greatest night of his existence.

➝ Chapter Song: < LISTEN HERE >

Pain floods your head when you wake this morning. Bounds of bad decisions coalesce and force the pain to get even worse when you open your eyes. Whatever happened last night was more than you originally signed up for. Flashes of colorful lights, jello shots, and cannon balls assault your hungover memory. You press the heel of your palm into your sore sockets, pining for a relief that never comes. When removed you examine the room around you. It’s not yours that’s for damn sure, unless of course you forgot how to clean and own a bong. Not Yoongi’s either, he’d never live in a room that wasn’t a shade of gray. 

You must still be at the frat house. Its the only true way to explain your hangover and the fuzzy memories you have of vibrating bass and—oh shit, where is your phone and your…panties? With your mind bombarded and worrisome tendencies you hadn’t even come to realize that astride your body, with an arm holding you firm at the waist is a slumbering young man. His hair is a deep cocoa color. His lips are parted by incoming air, and his other hand is tucked neatly behind his head. Slowly, you try to peel yourself away from him but of course, his bed creaks more than your sore bones. 

You manage to escape, finding the jeans you wore last night. Thankfully, your bra is still on and a shirt remains flush against your body. Fuck your panties, leaving before he wakes up is more important right now. Besides, they were not your favorite pair anyway. Creeping over discarded socks, questionable pizza boxes, and condom wrappers, you enter the hallway. 

You jump upon spotting your best friend, fingers toying with the button to your jeans.

“You look like shit.” Yoongi chimes, brushing his teeth.

“Morning to you too.” You whisper, trying to keep your pain at an all time low. 

He chuckles, pausing his teeth brushing to point at you. “Fly’s down.”

“Huh?”

He points again, shrugging, “Your shutters are open. Y’know, I can see bikini bottom…are you commando?” He spits into the bathroom sink, filled with crushed beer cans.

“Shhhhh, I’ll explain later, please tell me your bed is open; I can’t possibly walk home right now.” Yoongi smirks, a knowing look.

“That good huh?” He rinses the toothbrush.

You scratch your head, suddenly worried about your hair and the clown mask smeared across your face. “Nothing memorable that’s for sure.”

“You don’t remember last night?”

“Just the couple hundred jello shots I downed.”

Yoongi sucks air through gritted teeth, “Yikes.”

“Yeah…now, bed?” You point at his door, across the hall and ajar from him coming out of it. 

“Sorry Captain Commando, unlike someone…I scored last night.”

“Who’s to say I didn’t?”

Yoongi crosses his arms, amused. “You didn’t, I handed you off to Jungkook when you tried to strip near the pool. I figured if you were going to be naked I’d rather you do it behind closed doors.” So that’s who’s bedroom you woke up in. You should’ve recognized him, it must’ve been your rush to leave that kept you from realizing.

You clear your throat, “I’ll repeat my question, who’s to say I didn’t score?” You cross your arms.

Yoongi continues his assault, smiling wide. “I. Handed. You. Off. To. Jungkook.”

You nod, still confused. You have just emerged panty-less from a rather attractive college frat boys bedroom. To many, that’s enough to say you got laid. Then again…you don’t remember getting dick, and you have a feeling Jeon Jungkook’s would be rather memorable.  “Yeah…Jungkook is the designated panty dropper of BTS, and clearly he snatched mine.”

“Nah, he knows you’re off limits.”

You cluck your tongue, “Which only makes me more desirable.”

Yoongi sighs, rolling his eyes. “None of the guys will touch you because you’re friends with me. Get used to being dry sweetheart.”

“Ugh, cock block.” You sigh, smiling because you know he’s right.

“Trust me, Jungkook would be just as surprised as you were this morning to find you half naked. He was clothed wasn’t he?”

“Yeah…”

“That should be enough to prove me right. Now if you’ll excuse me…morning head is calling.” He walks towards his door.

“Fuck you Yoongi." You call after him.

He whispers back, sending you a kiss. “Love you too babe, there’s food downstairs if you wanna make some breakfast. Jin might have a spare pair of panties too if you’re interested.”

“Hard pass.” Jin’s collection of hoe’s lingerie is enticing, but equably disgusting.

What Yoongi called food was leftover chicken stir-fry, a questionable jar of mayonnaise…and whipped cream which you have a sneaking suspicion is Taehyung’s and isn’t meant for regular consumption. Thankfully, they own a box of just add water pancake mix, and you count that as a major score. You try not to make too much noise, considering you’re probably not the only one around here with a pounding headache. You’d already searched for some sort of over the counter relief only to come up empty. So you settle for a glass of water instead. Using your phone to play some light music, you flip the pancakes with ease. While doing so you can’t help but let your mind wander back to the night before. 

What could have possibly led to you falling asleep in Jungkook’s arms? To be fair, you are a rather flirtatious drunk and think that could have led to Jungkook being fished in by Yoongi. Yoongi would have enjoyed watching you make a fool of yourself all over Jungkook. He definitely saw more than he bargained for. Then again…knowing Yoongi, he would’ve pushed for Jimin instead. Its possible that Jimin was…preoccupied and Jungkook was a last stitch resort. 

Poor Jungkook, the kid has only been part of the frat for a couple months now and he’s already been subjected to assault via drunk you. You figured he would’ve gone at least a year without that happening. Now that you’re thinking about it, you probably cost him a hookup last night. 

“Crap!” You yelp, inhaling smoke from a now charred pancake, hacking it back up. 

“Having trouble?”

You turn, finding Jimin shirtless and leaning against the countertop. 

“Clearly.” You choke, drinking him in. “I’ll blame it on the hangover.”

Jimin laughs, gleaming under his faded orange locks. His roots are darker now, smothering the orange in an inky hue. It has definitely been a few months since the initial dyeing. Curse the fact that he makes it look so fucking good. “After last night I figured you would have one. I’ll make you a protein shake, god knows I need one.”

“Thank you, I’ll return the favor in pancakes.” You clear your throat, trying to sound less squeaky. “What do you mean by ‘after last night’?”

Jimin licks yogurt off a spoon, pointing it at you after he does so. “Right…Yoongi mentioned that your memory might be a little fuzzy.”

“You saw him this morning?”

Jimin grins, eyes on what he’s preparing. “Nah, heard him though.” You shiver. “I caught him kissing some girl late last night, dragged him by the ear to find out if you were alright, he mentioned it then. Considering the unholyness I heard when I passed his door, I think he found her again after we talked.”

You blush, clearing your throat. “And..?”

“He said that your liver couldn’t handle Jin’s jello shots and that he called time of death just a few minutes before I found him.”

“That bastard.”

You both chuckle lightly at Yoongi’s dark humor. “Yeah well, thank god that wasn’t the truth.”

“Maybe not, but this pounding in my head is making me re-think the whole living thing.”

You hear something rattling behind you, and turn to see Jimin shaking a small pill bottle. Advil no doubt. “Breakfast of champions.” He smiles, tossing it to you.

“Balanced as all things should be.” Jimin laughs, watching as you place two on the counter before pushing the bottle back to him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jimin turns the blender on. You flinch. “Sorry.” He says once that step is complete. “I should have warned you.”

“No it’s okay, I deserved that.”

“And this.” Jimin winks, sliding a freshly blended protein monstrosity towards you.

You shut off the stove, serving your pancakes on a large plate next to the drinks. The sound of their preparation may have ripped your mental state to shreds, but the taste of protein pumped berry goodness was well worth it.

You end up moaning out loud when the shake hits your tongue, a soothing hint of mint serenading the thumping of your skull. You swallow the Advil with it. When you open your eyes Jimin is watching you closely, taking a hefty swig from his own shake. “Good?” He asks after swallowing, a knowing grin smeared across his pillow lips.

“If my moan wasn’t clarification enough, then yes.” He nods, pleased with your answer. You pick up a pancake, dousing it in the syrup you found in one of the cabinets that wasn’t dedicated to hot Cheetos or peanut butter.

“So, I heard about the pool.”

“Oh god don’t remind me. All I know is Yoongi handed me off to Jungkook at some point…I’m assuming it was after my thirty-second jello shot, but before my walk of shame.”

“Yikes.”

You hum an affirmation, “Yeah, I think Jin cut me off at some point. So maybe doing a strip-tease by the pool was my form of rebellion.”

“It definitely was something.”

“Oh great, you saw it too?”

“Everyone saw it love. I hate to say it but…you were the highlight of the party.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much, Namjoon ended up slipping in some puke last night, landed in Tae’s lap. Everyone forgot about your debut into stripperhood by then.”

“Phew, good thing Jungkook was there when he was. There could be a viral video of me naked by your pool if he wasn’t.”

“Would that be such a shame?” Jimin smiles, wiggling his eyebrows. You punch his shoulder. 

“Trust me, it would have been.” 

Jimin pauses his sipping, “I’m kind of surprised Jungkook was by the pool at all. I figured he of all people would’ve been drowning in some freshman pussy.” 

You chuckle, but deep down you’re worried that pussy may have been yours in the end.

“Yeah I woke up next to him this morning, it seems like he took watching me pretty seriously.”

“If he took advantage I swear I’ll--”

You laugh, “I don’t think you need to worry. Yoongi laughed when I mentioned that possibility. He said I’m off limits.”

“Shame.”

“Hm?”

“I just feel bad. I would have gladly given you my bed instead beautiful.”

You blush, licking remnants of syrup from your fingertips. The plate of pancakes now finds itself empty, syrup littering the expanse. “I’ll remember that for next time.” You manage to say, a finger brushing your lower lip. Jimin gleams. “I should probably meet up with Raegan, she’ll want to know if I lived.” Gulping the last bit of shake, you grab the last strand of dignity you have and start for the door.

“You sure you don’t need a ride or anything? I don’t have class today.”

“Thanks Chim, but my dorm is only a block or so away, I’ll manage.” Jimin follows you into the foyer, ripped streamers and empty solo cups littering its usually pristine landing. “Thanks for the shake. I feel a lot better.”

“Anything for my favorite girl.”

You roll your eyes, “I thought that was Tae’s spot, don’t let him catch you slipping.”

Jimin laughs, “Tell that to Namjoon. I’ll text you.”

“Okay, bye Chim.”

You close the front door behind you, finding the sun to be more bearable now that your stomach is happy and your liver doesn’t want to kill you. “Holy shit, Jimin wasn’t wearing a shirt. And I was able to talk…this has been a strange twenty-four hours.” 

“Strange isn’t the word I would use.” Hoseok emerges from the bushes below the front steps, his shirt is half unbuttoned and he has leaves in his hair. “What time is it?” He rubs his eyes subconsciously.

“My god Hoseok! What the fuck!” You hold your heart, coming down from the scare you just received. 

“Ow! Don’t fucking yell dipshit!” He screams back, squinting at you under messy red locks.

“What in the sam hell are you doing sleeping with the worms?”

“I must have blacked out here, that rager really was something.” He points to the mulch he used as a mattress, an assprint pushed into it. “Leaving so soon princess? The party isn’t over yet.” 

“Funny, but it’s noon and I have an iced coffee with my name on it. You need to eat something solid, and find a breath mint.”

“I can give you something solid.”

“Goodbye Hoseok~” You say as you continue down the frat house walkway, giving him a cute little wave as you do so. You can hear him laughing, and it makes you smile. Hoseok may be gross, and he passes out in bushes…but as Yoongi said before, he and the others know you can’t be touched. It sure is funny watching him try though.

“And the jello shot junky returns!”

You do a sarcastic pageant queen spin, complete with an ending pose. “I prefer pong princess. Here.” You hand Reagan her usual order from the Starbucks down the street. 

“Thank you, slave.” She smiles through whipped cream dusted lips. You chuckle, plopping yourself into the corner of your shared L-shaped couch next to her. Stained with remnants of Italian Nights and Taco Tuesdays. “So…did you ever find your panties?”

“Fuck, I forgot about those.”

“How could you forget you’re nakey when denim is all up in the Cock Kingdom?” 

You exhale a laugh out of your nose, “First of all, please never refer to my place of business as the Cock Kingdom ever again.”

“Would you prefer Pussy Palace? Dick Dungeon? Phallus Fort?”

“No I- Dick Dungeon? That’s not bad actually…but still a hard no.” You shake your head, both equably disappointed and proud of Rae for having the braincells to come up with such a cacophony of nick-names after the mental beatdown both of you surely took last night. “I forgot to look for them before I left.”

Raegan huffs an affirmation. “My money’s on the pool pavement. It’s definitely out there just waiting to be found by an unsuspecting frat boy. Maybe Jin will add them to his collection…he does have one right?”

“A collection of conquests panties? Sadly yes. And let’s just agree to forget that whole strip tease ever happened.”

“It was more than a strip tease Honey. I will be sure to play the video on your wedding day!” Raegan sips her peppermint monstrosity unphased, mint on her tongue.

“What?” You turn your head violently to face her, sitting up in a rush.

Raegan continues to describe the horror of a maid-of-honor speech you need to start preparing for, its bound to be a whopper at this rate. “It can be part of my maid of honor speech. Be all sentimental and crap, then just when moms in tears…BAM, stripping at a frat party.”

Grabbing her by the shoulders, you shake your best friend and recorder of all embarrassing moments in your life, “Rae, did you say you have it on video?!”

She breaks free, steading herself with another sip. “Well obviously, drunk me still has her priorities straight.”

“Can I see it?!” You yell.

“Alright alright! Don’t get your panties in a—oh wait…”

“Shut up.”

She laughs, pulling out her phone and scrolling through what must be hundreds of selfies and videos from last nights mistake. Raegan has always been the social drunk. She’s constantly throwing herself in the arms of strangers and chanting the words ‘Lets take a picture!’ through alcohol slurred lips. You are honestly shocked she didn’t wake up alongside Hobi in the bushes this morning.

“Holy shit, Rae is that Taehyung?” You point at her screen, a blurred mess of a snapshot smeared across it.

“Nope, Namjoon.” She beams.

“What is he—“

Raegan swipes twice, “Here wait I have a better picture of it.”

“Oh my god! Raegan Louise!” You yelp, clarity making you look away.

“What?! I saw an opportunity…and I took it!” 

“Never in my life would I picture Namjoon as a human shot glass!”

“His belly-button was the perfect size. Carpe Diem my love.” Raegan shrugs, acting nonchalant about slurping a mouthful of tequila from the frat presidents belly button.

“Fair enough, now where is this life-ruining video of yours.” 

She scrolls further, finding a couple from just after the incident along with a zoom in of your panties.

“If I knew this was going to happen I would’ve worn a cuter pair.” 

“Oh cmon, the giant panda face on the back is so innocent~”

“I’m burning my wardrobe.”

“Here, I found it.”

Raegan presses play. The video shakes for a second and there’s far too much yelling to make out any coherent words. At first, she’s recording the inside of the house. In the background Taehyung is seen doing a keg-stand. If you weren’t so concerned with the upcoming turn of events you would’ve glanced at the way his shirt is gathered around his neck. Instead, you see what Jimin meant by Yoongi kissing some girl. More like swallowing her. 

That’s when you hear it, a cheer so loud it turns heads. Someone runs into the room, informing all of those in it that you’re about to turn the heat up a notch. Yoongi bolts from the girl, no apology leaving his lips when he separates from hers. She follows, wounded and confused. You can hear Rae muttering a profanity under her breath. The camera fumbles in her hands, she pushes past the crowd to reveal you, half-dressed with your arms behind your back about to unclasp your bra. 

You watch in horror, hands over your agape mouth. “Oh god no.”

“Oh honey yes…”

She fast forwards a few seconds, revealing a starstruck Jimin who rushes forward with Yoongi in tow. Before you know it Jimins shirt is off and thrown towards your face. You catch it with a giggle, shimmying your panties off before Jungkook suddenly appears from behind you. He grabs both your legs and throws you over his shoulder. Your ass is completely exposed to all those watching. The cameras final frame shows the slammed back door before it cuts out and all else is left to the imagination. 

“Welp, there you have it.” Raegan says, shrugging.

You are absolutely starstruck, embarrassed and shocked. On the bright side, you now know exactly what happened. Also, that Raegan seemed to be the only one sober enough to record. That’s the hope. “Delete it.”

“What? But I just said—“

“Raegan please. I can never see that video again.”

“Okay, just know that doing so brings me great pain.”

“I apologize.”

Raegan deletes the video with just a few taps, the first frame disappearing from view in lieu of a conversational meme she’s uses over text. “There, goodbye sweet sweet memory.”

“And hello sweet sweet relief.”

The days following seem to be for the most part normal, you attend your classes normally, pumped full of caffeine and dreading finals week. The only ones who spoke of The Incident were Raegan and the BTS boys. Yoongi in particular, just couldn’t let the story go.

“I still can’t believe you made Raegan delete the video. That shit was comedy gold and could have had you going down in BTS rager history.”

“As invigorating as that would have been, I really don’t think I need my portrait framed above the words ‘Pool Panty Princess.’”

“I beg to differ.” Yoongi looks away, swirling a finger around the spoon he submerged in liquid energy. “He told me that he’s been looking for you.”

“What? Who has?” You take a jab at the plate of disco fries ahead of you, doused in gravy and snug beneath layers of cheese. Yoongi watches you do so, content with his black coffee and dark intentions. 

“Jungkook; he’s been acting strange since the party.” You pause your eating, mouth full of the one dish you wish to be buried beneath. “You swear nothing happened between you two?”

“Why are you asking me when you were so sure I would be left high and dry?” You fall back against the booth, worn with previous diners butts. “Besides, I can’t remember anything after darts with Jimin. Everything is a messed up blur.”

“I know. Its just really weird, I’m so used to seeing Kook as the kid who never shuts the fuck up. Lately, he’s been the opposite.”

“Elaborate.”

“Alright well, I was in the kitchen with Jimin the day after the party. Kook came down from his room in the middle of the conversation we were having. Your name happened to come up and he froze.”

“Half the guys have been like that, the party was crazy. Also, what kind of conversation were you having with Jimin where my name was involved?”

“Irrelevant, have you even seen Jungkook?”

You roll your eyes, “No, why?”

“My point exactly. He’s avoiding you.”

“You just said he was looking for me.”

“I’m just saying, it seems like he’s conflicted. Confront him, clearly he remembers something you don’t.”

“How the hell would I do that, Jungkook is like a baby bird. Flightless, skittish, and far too innocent.” 

“Geez, and here I was thinking you always had eyes for Jimin.”

“Besides the point, Jungkook’s in my psychology class, I’ll see him then. I’m sure everything is fine.”

Yoongi laughs, taking another sip from his mug. You blush, suddenly losing your appetite. “You’re not very good at hiding things.”

“And you’re not very good at giving head, so shut up.”

“Oh honey, now you’re just grabbing at straws.”

“Yeah even I knew that was wrong before I said it.”

“How would you know? I’ve never given you head—is this your way of asking?”

“God no! I’ll pass.”

“I’m sure Jimin would oblige, and given the way he’s been acting I’m sure Kook would be down too.”

“Relationship advice from Mr. One Night Stand himself? I’m honored.”

“Eat your fries.”

“Hey.” You try to say the word with some power behind it, however it falls flat against the tile of the stingy classroom floor. Jungkook slips into the seat next to you, looking your way when you speak. 

“Hey.” He copies, slipping his red backpack off and tossing it to the floor. 

You bite your lip, hearing Yoongi’s voice like a mantra in your head.

When you look up from the face of your desk Jungkook’s eyes are on yours and the class is silent. He looks away almost as fast as you looked up, brushing a hand through his fluffy hair. It’s now or never and you can’t possibly let Yoongi berate you about putting this conversation off any longer.

“Jungkook, I need to ask you something.” You watch him lift his head, promptly scanning the class before answering. 

“Okay?” He whispers, displaying a slightly crooked tooth through an agape set of lips. “If this is about finding an old childhood photo of you dressed as a milk man in Yoongi’s wallet then I swear I didn’t tell a soul.”

“No Kook!” The class shushes you. “I’ll explain that another time, this is about last weekend.” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, confused. You explain further, “I woke up in your bed…I didn’t have pants on…ringing any bells?”

Jungkook smiles, on the verge of laughing. “I think I’d remember sleeping with you ______.”

“I beg to differ, you sleep with a lot of girls Jungkook.”

“You calling me a tramp?”

“Maybe, just tell me please. Did we have sex?”

“Why? Do you want to?”

“Kook!” Another shush from the class. 

“I have fifteen before my next class, there’s a janitors closet down the hall, meet there?”

“Jungkook, no. I just want to know if we did anything.”

Jungkook looks away, searching his memories for something helpful. “Tell you what, come to the BTS house tonight, maybe Jin’s jello shots will spur your memory.” 

You roll your eyes. “Just what I need, more vodka.”

“I’d love to help; except there’s still some parts i’m trying to remember myself. So, sorry sweetheart, my lips are sealed…tight.” He puts emphasis on the word tight and it makes you shiver with some kind of foreign anticipation.

“What if I said please?”

“Get on your knees and i’ll consider it.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re starting to sound like Yoongi.”

“Ouch.” Jungkook stands, fellow students rising to rush off to their next lecture. “See you later.” He winks, leaving promptly.

“And how dare you assume a lady like myself would do it in a janitors closet!” You yell after him, but he’s already gone.

“He said he was still trying to figure it out himself, and then he tried to seduce me into a janitors closet.”

“I admire his boldness, but the fuck?” Yoongi licks peanut butter off the knife he’s holding, gingerly using it to cut his sandwich into four little triangles.

“You sound like my inner monologue right now.” You lean against the countertop in the BTS Frathouse kitchen. To your surprise, it looks very nice when the counters aren’t covered in solo cups, horny sorority princesses and stale chips. 

“What happened afterwards?” Yoongi continues, pouring himself a glass of OJ with enough pulp to scare oranges into hiding.

“Nothing, he invited me to the house party tonight—which you happened to not tell me about.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He slurs through the first bite of PB&J.

“I sense sarcasm.”

“At least now you know he wants you here. Maybe stay away from the jello shots this time?”

“I know that much, thanks.” You steal a triangle.

“And if you’re going to do anything with anyone tonight…maybe shoot for Jimin.”

You pause, placing your hands on your hips. “I guess the whole ‘off limits’ thing is shot to hell now.”

“That was before I thought you had a shot with not one, but two of the guys currently drooling at your feet.”

“Oh please…they’re not drooling.”

“You’re right, the word slobbering fits better.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t go, people are going to laugh and say stupid shit about the last party.”

“So what, you have me and the other guys here to back you up. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, everyone was wasted that night.”

You hear heavy footsteps cascading the staircase as Yoongi speaks, its obvious that they belong to a focused Namjoon even before he slips into the room. “’Sup guys?”

“Hey Joonie.”

“Hey Hyung.” Yoongi barely takes a breath before continuing to bombard you with reasons to attend tonight. “I’ll tell you what, the second your social meter runs out I’ll give you my room key and you can hide in there all night if you want.”

You fake a sniffle, “You’d give up the chance at some random freshman pussy for me?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Just say yes before I change my mind.”

“I would’ve gone anyway but you just kept going.”

“Fuck you.” Yoongi laughs.

“What’s this I hear about pussy?” Taehyung says, bouncing into the kitchen with a suspicious glass of clear liquid in his hand.

Sadly, you’re the one to catch a whiff of his breath as he passes. “Taehyung its not even noon yet what in the holy mother of hell are you doing with that?” You point to the glass, and he smirks.

“Five o’clock somewhere.” He shrugs, sipping generously. “I’m kidding, its sparkling water, here.” He slides it towards you before walking next to Namjoon who’s absorbed into the grilled cheese he’s trying not to burn. You scrunch your eyebrows, lifting the glass and taking an experimental sip. Immediately, you gag as the raw tequila touches your tongue. You jump up and spit it into the nearby sink, drawing laughter from everyone in the room. 

“Sparkling water my ass!”

“I’m sorry, you made it too easy!”

“Fuck!” You turn the tap on, sticking your head underneath to rinse your tongue and gargle water.

Due to your luck, both Jimin and Hoseok walk into the room as you turn the water on and they get to watch as you stand head back and tongue in the wind. “Ah fuck, this situation looks vaguely familiar.” Jimin chuckles, picking up the glass you hastily sipped from. He sniffs it, ripping his head away the second his nose hairs are disintegrated. “Jesus Tae.”

“Oh cmon, I saw an opportunity!”

“You okay?” Jimin slips past the crowd and slowly rubs your back as you wipe your mouth and nod. You catch a glimpse of Yoongi smiling into his orange juice, his eyes suggestive. 

“Hm? Oh yeah, psh, fine…thanks.”

“Want a grilled cheese?”

Yoongi nods furiously, dropping not so subtle hints.

“No; its okay, I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Thirty minute rule…you know.”

“Good call, I guess I should skip the grilled cheese too.”

“What? No!” Your hands land of Jimin’s stomach as you reflexively move to stop him from following. He looks down, confused until you revoke them, “You should eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Join me after?”

Jimin grins. “Okay.” He says in short, a smile still on his face even after you’re moving towards the patio. You look over his shoulder one last time to see Yoongi slam his face into the countertop, awash with disappointment. 

The sound of their distant talking fades once you escape to the back patio, however you aren’t alone for long as Yoongi and his orange juice joins you.

“That was painful to watch.” He says, walking towards you.

“Leave me alone pulp boy.” You sulk, sitting on the edge of the pool and putting your feet in the heated water.

“Woah, my pulp never did anything to you.” Yoongi frowns, a short-lived sarcastic feature. He joins you.

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Ugh, did he say anything after I left?”

“Babe, Jimin’s a guy. The second you left he asked Joon to make him a grilled cheese and snorted a line of pre-workout.” He slurps more of his juice.

“Really?” You look up at him, a worried lip.

Yoongi suddenly feels bad for playing with you’re feelings…but can’t stop himself. Taehyung’s right, you make it too easy. “No, first he looked at your ass.”

“You’re lying.” You swallow, turning red.

Yoongi smiles, suggesting he’s joking. “Thats what you get for insulting my pulp.”

“Asshat.” You grumble, slightly disappointed. You couldn’t help but hope Jimin looked, or at least glanced.

“Cocksleeve.” He gibs back, finishing off his orange juice as you once again lay your head on his shoulder with a smile.