#thinking about how petty the both of them are when they fight. so lame.

[malaierba]

Haven't really read anything Hazbin set in a human au* because honestly, 90% of the appeal to me is just thinking about how humans were doomed from the start, almost by design,

BUT I've been struck by inspiration,

Something about listening to No Children and thinking of Lucifer and Adam having the most pathetic, in their feelings tussle in a beach that eventually devolves to them falling into the sea and dragging the other down as they try to climb out, Eve and Lilith watching this sad, sad spectacle from afar

[sukunasbabymama]

When someone tries to make them jealous.

⌗ Pairing: Manjiro Sano (Mikey), Ken Ryuguji (Draken), Baji Keisuke, Mitsuya Takashi, Nahoya Kawata (smiley).

⌗ Warnings: Sugestive on Draken’s part but just bc reader is petty as fuck, cursing.

Request.

Manjiro Sano Mikey.

This happens too much with him, people from other gangs or not even in a gang see him so small that their first thought is to mess with him. How wrong they were.

Because he has made his mission to be your protector he doesn’t fight people in front of you for stuff like that, he thinks you don’t deserve a man that loses his cool so easily. And that’s okay, he can do that, but you can’t.

Y’all were at the beach with all the captains and vice-captains, you were laying on your front while Mikey was putting sunscreen on your back when two guys stop just in front of you, you frown and lookup.

“Hey gorgeous, want to play volleyball with us?” One of them says ignoring Mikey on purpose, you feel his hands tense on your back.

“No, thank you”

“Why is that? Oh, is this your lil stepbrother or your boyfriend? Can he even handle all of that?” The other one says motioning to your body, you laugh and see all the captains starting to stand up.

“Do you need him to have his hands on my ass so you can judge if he’s my man?” You take Mikey’s hand and put it on your ass. “Is this enough for you to back the fuck up or do you need me to go there and smack you the fuck up? I’m cool with both”

They were about to say something but if there’s one thing you like more than being praised by Mikey, is putting mfs in their place.

“If another thing comes out of your lame ass mouth toward me then I will be kind enough to let my man use both of yall head as a ball since y'all are so fixed in playing volleyball,” You raise your eyebrows with a small smile. "get. the. hell. outta. my. sight"

Everybody was in shock, they knew Mikey's partner isn't the one to be messed with but they never saw why. This was more than enough proof.

"So I restrict myself from fighting people and you go and do this? "Mikey says with a smile, he bends down a little and kisses your temple.

"You can do that all you want, but ain't nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me, Manjiro," You say deadpan, he hums satisfied.

"I was going to put the ring on your finger anyway, you know"

What's with this mf and his desire of being so damn bold?

Ken Ryuguji Draken.

He doesn't like fighting just anyone because he knows his strength, and he is really sure about his relationship with you. That doesn't mean he doesn't get annoyed as fuck every time someone hit on you, like, he sure as hell ain’t short so they can see his ass right by your side.

You were accompanying him in his bike shop, you do that from time to time because he would be in front of you talking about bikes with a big smile while you were helping him organizing all the documents and sales for him so he can focus on his bikes.

You were doing just that, in a comfy silence and humming a random song when two guys about your age enter the shop.

“Good afternoon, how may we hel—”

“Well damn look at this hottie!” Your smile drops and Draken looks over his shoulders frowning. “Forget why we here, what’s your name?”

“How may we help you, gentlemen?” You say deadpan.

“By letting me take you out, pretty face,” One says and that’s when Draken walks behind the counter, acting like he needs something from the lower drawers.

“That’s not gonna happen,” You say, getting irritated already. Patience was your boyfriend’s virtue, not yours.

“You scared of having a good time? I promise I’ll make you happier than your man” Uh, that’s it.

You grab Draken by his collar and pull him up without breaking eye contact with the guys.

“This man’s right hand can make me feel better than both of you combine could in a whole day with me, please do yourself a favor and don’t embarrass yourself anymore and, get the hell out of my shop” Your tone almost makes Draken get out of the shop too.

After they go out you tried to go back to your work but were interrupted by Draken turning the chair around and getting between your legs.

“I can do that just with my hand?” You roll your eyes and he laughs. “Yes”

“Yes, what?” You ask curiously.

“Yes, this is your shop too, our shop,” He says and smiles.

You pout and he kisses you.

Baji Keisuke.

Now, here… you are just rude. You don’t play that acting respectful first and then snapping, you would snap as soon as someone tries you when you are with your man. Nobody can’t play with the times with your man, period.

You were out on a walk and y’all saw a group of cats so naturally, y’all went to pet them.

“Honey, go and buy food for them, please?” You say while petting the mom of the little family, he nods.

While he was there you put your backpack in the grass and sit on it, putting Baji’s jacket on your thighs because your skirt would betray you if you don’t.

“Oh? And what’s this little one doing here?” An older man says in a flirty tone and you roll your eyes and look up.

“I’m waiting for my man, keep walking buddy,” You say and see Baji coming back with a plastic bag and drinks.

“Mhm, I don’t think he cares about you if he lets a pretty little thing like you alone in—” Baji was in silence with his eyebrows raised, listening to everything behind the man.

“He doesn’t need to care about me meeting creeps like you because I find joy in making them suffer,” You say and the man opens his eyes in surprise. “I’m gonna repeat myself one more time, move or I’ll take the time to rearrange your fucking face”

“Let me know if their warning isn’t enough so I can just skip that and beat your ass past recovery,” Baji says and the man jumps when he hears the deep voice, he walks away fast.

After giving you your drink he starts taking everything out of the plastic bag with a big smile.

“Why you seem so happy?” You ask, he moves and gives you a quick kiss.

“I would never get tired of you cussing people out in my presence,” You roll your eyes. “Whaaat? I take pride in being your man and you stating that fact in every chance you got put me on cloud nine”

“It better be,” You pull him back to your face and smile. “Since I really like you being mine, baby.”

“All yours~” He sings cocky as hell.

Mitsuya Takashi.

Oh, this good soul. You were his total opposite. While he tried to not fight unless he has to, you would always pop off first and ask questions later.

That doesn’t mean you go on life fighting everybody, it’s just that you were fine with being a confrontational person if you feel like you or him are being disrespected.

You were at his crafting club hanging out with him, today you weren’t being his model tho, it was some guy because they need different measurements so you were sitting at his desk comfortably while Mitsuya was moving all over the place.

“Are you a model?” The new guy says, and you smile politely at him.

“I am not,” You say and lean back when he leans forward. Uh, has anybody told him about personal space?

“I think you could be one,” He says in a flirty tone, and at that moment you feel Mitsuya’s hand on your shoulder, letting you know that he can help anytime. “You are really pretty, do you have a boyfriend?”

“I do”

“Well, that doesn’t matter,” He shrugs. “I don’t think he can’t compete, so let’s go—”

Mitsuya closed his eyes with a knowing smile.

“Of course he can’t compete,” You say with a laugh. “Look at him and look at you”

He shows a shocked expression when you lift your hand, sliding it under Mitsuya’s shirt. He’s behind you and that’s the easiest way to demonstrate what you were saying, also because, come on, you want to show off your man. And he has never put your hand away when you do this.

“You can’t compete where you can’t compare, mister universe,” You say in a bored tone, and from where you were you could see his ego being hurt. “Now if you don’t mind, I would like to make out with my man before he has to go back to work.”

The boy didn’t even try to talk back, he just went on his way, Mitsuya looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“So we are going to make out, now?” He smiles.

“Yes, please, let’s go,” You say taking his hand and smiling at his satisfied laugh.

Nahoya Kawata Smiley.

This mf, this mf!!

He’s feral, yeah we know, but with you, he tries to not submit into his inner self telling him to whoop the ass of every man that looks your way. Why is this? Because you can match his energy. He’s still thinking of a comeback when you already had the person crying at your feet. So, he prefers to see you being feral.

Y’all were at a ramen shop, both of you and his brother. They like to take you with them on a food tour to taste all kinds of ramen so they could get a hold of what they want for their own shop.

“You like the decoration, baby?” He asks and you hum in agreement.

Y’all thank the waiter when he put the menú on the table, and that’s when he starts being weird.

“Would you like me bringing you some dessert, pretty?” He says with a flirty tone and you let out a giggle when you feel Nahoya hand sliding up your thigh.

“I haven’t even decided what’s gonna be the main dish and you already offering me a dessert, you gonna pay for it?” You smile while sliding your hand upon your man’s thigh, he instantly opening his legs a little bit to give you better access.

“Their boyfriend is literally in front of you…” Souya says confused and you smile at him.

“This kid? This is a whole kid in front of this angel,” He says cocky, and your head snaps to your right to look at Nahoya’s smile tightening, you smile and look at his brother.

“Oh, my baby, there are people like this dumbass who likes to embarrass themselves pulling stupid shit like this,” You smile sweetly and Souya does the same. “That’s what I think because there’s no way in hell that a motherfucker like this think he can compete with a whole Nahoya Kawata”

“Bitch, you—” Before he finishes Nahoya already has jumped over the table and was already punching him in the face.

You see, Nahoya loves to see you feral and for that, he would not submit to his aggressive side, but that ends the moment a person calls you mean names. He doesn’t give a fuck if it’s inside a temple, if someone calls you anything other than your name or a respectful alternative name, they’re gone.

You smile and stand up, you interlock your arms with Souya and resting your head on his shoulder. When the others waiters come out of the kitchen you smile politely at them.

“You can cancel the order from table number 7, we aren’t hungry anymore,” Souya let out a giggle because y’all didn’t actually order anything.

Ah, how funny is to be part of the Kawata twins' dynamics.

@saturnmitsuya bestie i got u some taka content.😩🤞🏾

[kylejsugarman]

hcs on nachojesse :3c??

i feel so lame trying to answer this ask because you're the one who is so good at writing their dynamic and introducing really compelling situations for them to be in and im just like what if two guys hated each other. then they liked each other 😳 but!! im so endeared to the concept of nacho being so much more of a stoic and thinking he's so much more mature and cool and worldly than jesse because in a sense he is, but at the end of the day, he is just as prone to being petty and immature. they somehow bring out both the best and the worst in each other: they fight so much when they first meet because they're so annoyed by the other, but as time goes on, it becomes more apparent that they're projecting a lot of their issues onto each other and hating the things they hate about themselves. nacho hates how sensitive and naive jesse is because these are traits that nacho had to carve out of himself to survive in this industry, but these are also his favorite things about him and soften him to the gentler, less guarded person he used to be. jesse thinks nacho is so arrogant and self-important, which just reminds him of the other men in this job, but for nacho it's much more of a front and he genuinely learns a lot from nacho's knowledge and ability to mask when the situation calls for it. just the notion of these two people who are both here for reasons in and out of their control, who love and hate each other, who are angry and afraid, who are hanging mirrors reflecting one another, is like. so interesting.

also nacho is like "you are so fucked up. you really live like this??" the first time he sees jesse's lifestyle and jesse's like "yo, sorry for not being a fucking housewife" and nacho rolls his eyes and is like whatever this kid ("kid" as if they're not close in age and neck-deep in the same fucked-up shit) can die of scurvy if he wants, but if he starts bringing lunch for the both of them when they have to go do stuff and buys him a gd brita filter. no he didn't.

[4joonkookie]

Mirror, Mirror.

➹ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

➹ Words: 3K

➹ Summary:

(smutty) You tell Jungkook that you don’t want to talk. He makes sure to keep you quiet. OR

(Angsty) Your established, long-distance relationship with Jungkook has reached an impasse. OR

(Angsty & Smutty) Jungkook makes you take a long, hard look at yourself.

➹ Tags/Warnings:

SMUT, Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, Public Sex, Car Sex, Clothed Sex, Rushed Sex, Mirror Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Blowjob, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, (Jungkook literally pulls up a chair to eat you out), Fingering, Rough Sex, Mouth Covering, Shoving, Angry Sex, Drinking, Embarrassment, Spanking, ANGST, Failure to Communicate, Commitment Issues, Avoidant Behavior, Female Character with Fuckboi!Tendancies, Petty!Jungkook, Unresolved Ending, Ending up to Reader Interpretation, Easter Eggs?

**

You’re late on purpose.

You told Jungkook you couldn’t make it until just about when the cars would be leaving to take the boys and their group to the event.

He greets you with a kiss at the door when you rush in, dressed and ready to the hotel room everyone gathers in. You eagerly greet and catch up with the others. Jungkook knowingly raises his eyebrow at you.

He doesn’t deserve this and you’re not proud of it but you aren’t ready to talk about it. Everything was left in the air last you saw each other and there’s a lot to discuss. You managed to get away from work for just 1 night, so, you plan on avoiding it until your next visit, maybe another 2 weeks.

That would give you enough time to think about it, about what you would say. It might give you time to come up with a good reason why he’s completely wrong about this.

So, you settle for getting ready for a formal event in the airport bathroom. That’s how badly you don’t want to talk about it.

A voice announces that the cars are here and people fuss at themselves in the full length mirror before corralling out the door. Soon, it’s just you left, touching up your red lipstick. You almost never wear it but hope It hides your total cowardice.

Jungkook approaches you from behind in the mirror.

Can we talk about it?”, he asks your reflection.

“I’m not sure now is a good time”, you say as casually as possible.

“Well, will there be a good time before you leave tomorrow morning? We never finished talking...”

“We weren’t talking, we were arguing.”, you interrupt and pull his arms around you from behind, hands laced at your waist. “Look, we have one night. And I have to leave for the airport by 7:30 tomorrow.”

He pauses before he speaks. “No you don’t.”, he says plainly. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

You take a breath. “But I will.” You shrug and sigh, still in his arms.

“So, the answer to my question is ‘no’, you plan on avoiding the topic until….”

“...until I come back.”, you finish, trying to sound optimistic.

He pulls his hands from around you and steps away from you.. “In 2 weeks.”, he scoffs. “So, what, you’re here to get fucked and leave?”

You turn to face him and tell the truth. “I miss you, baby.” You plant a soft, closed kiss on his lips. “I'm here to see you.”, you inspect his mouth for any trace of lipstick. “Besides….would it be the worst thing if I came for one night just to get fucked?”, you tease, turning to the mirror again.

He snickers, “...no”. He kisses your neck and shifts his crotch against your ass. “I just worry you think this problem won’t be here when you get back.”

“Please, Jungkook, I just want to be with you, I don’t want to fight. There’s no chance we could solve this in a night anyway.”

Jimin renters the room to gather you. “We need to go_”, he stops when he sees Jungkook’s worried reflection. “Everything ok?”

Jungkook abruptly drops his arms from you. “We’re having an argument,'' he announces. “but we’re not talking about it.” He moves to hold the door open and gestures for you and Jimin to exit before him.

Ugh. Brat.

The back of the private car is your proverbial doghouse as you both sip your cocktails in silence, Jungkook obviously agitated. You sit next to each other, such a big space for just 2 people. A small gap between you feels wider than ever.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not ready”, you finally say, lamely.

“It’s fine,'' he replies quickly. “You don’t want to talk, we won’t.” He finishes one drink and pours another.

You stay quiet, still without the right words. He looks at you and thinks for a long time. You almost ask if he’s ok when he finally speaks.

“You look really good.”, he abruptly spits out and laughs as if he’s missed something that had been in front of him the whole time. “I’m sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I wanted to tell you in the mirror.“

You’re relieved with his light-heartedness and grateful for the effects of alcohol as you close the gap between you, placing your hand on his closest thigh.

The cabin is dimly lit with a bluish light. Jungkook brings his face so close to yours, tingles go down your spine. He smells like a mixture of cologne and liquor.

“I like your pretty red lips.”, he hums, voice deep and low. His eyes, dark in the dim light. “And if you’re not going to use them to talk...”, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip and leaning in to whisper, “...I want them wrapped around my cock.” He moves his hand back and tugs at your hair.

You waste no time. The area of the car is spacious enough that you can get to your knees below him. You work together to pull his trousers down far enough to expose his pretty leaking cock.

You start a long lick with a flat tongue at the base of his shaft and up to the tip. You hollow your cheeks and fully engulf him on the way back down, knowing it’s just a matter of time before you arrive.

He guides your head as you diligently slide up and down, slurping and occasionally stopping to hold the tip at the back of your throat. Soon, his hips lift on every trip down, squirming and unable to hold back the prettiest whines.

“Look at me”, Jungkook urges. You turn your head to the side to look up and run your tongue up a vein on the side of his shaft.

“So good, noona.”, he says with his eyes rolling backward with a smirk. He pushes your head down harder, driving you to increase the pace.

He fills your mouth with a groan. You swallow, eager to take whatever he gives you.

The car comes to a stop and you pull yourself together enough to get to the bathroom inside to check your lipstick.

***

Wherever you are, it’s huge. A massive hall with doors that seemed to go on forever. The party and guests, relegated to one (very big) room.

As the guests and your group get toasted and social, it becomes easier to step away from your unresolved issues than you thought. Jungkook and the boys are laughing and enjoying themselves. Everyone’s guard is down, including you.

That’s why you love these types of events. The ones with no cameras or staff, where boys can bring dates or just be themselves. There’s so many of these things you CAN'T go to; another point of contention between you and Jungkook.

Here, when everyone can just be together without a camera, it seems easy. The last moments of your previous visit begin to replay in your mind, as you watch Jungkook charm the room.

“What are you so afraid of?”, his voice echoes in your mind. Suddenly, the mellow tone of the room fades and it feels stifling and small, heat flooding to your chest.

You make your way to the entry doors. Maybe to get some air, or make an escape, you’re not sure. You calmly peek outside the big room to the empty big hall with endless doors. Before the door can close behind you, Jungkook peeks out, whispering and smiling. “Where are you going?”, worries obviously set aside. His face is comforting and makes it feel like you can breathe again.

“Exploring.”, you whisper back with a wink and extend your hand. He offers a cheeky smile and accepts.

You tipsily giggle down the hall into an empty room. It’s identical to the room the party is in, only this one is empty and one wall is made of full mirrors, like some kind of performance and rehearsal room.

You kiss and stumble into a corner. He takes both of your drink glasses and places them on the floor. He grabs your body so you face away and you’re looking at your reflections again.

“We were like this.” his lips are on your neck again and a hand sneaks up the slit in your dress and inside your thigh. “...when I saw how you looked in the mirror at the hotel.” He lets out a gratified sigh and slips his fingers effortlessly into you.

“Jungkook!”, you scold, doing your best not to sink into his sensation but it’s too late now. Your body is a step ahead of your mind and you’re moving your hips in time with his fingers. You place both hands on the mirror in front of you to brace yourself.

“What?”, he says innocently, still speaking to the mirror. You came here to get fucked and leave right? ”, pushing fingers in and out of your entrance. “Anyway”, he continues, “You know better. You should’ve showed up earlier so I could fuck you before we had to leave. You knew we’d end up like this.”

His skilled fingers stir inside you so delightfully that you close your eyes. He puts a squeezing hand on your shoulder to alert you.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. I want you to see what I see.” You make an effort to keep your eyes on the mirror but shriek when he lays a hard spank on you, cold rings intensifying the sting. He quickly removes his fingers to unbutton himself, lowering his pants again.

“Jungkook...”, you start, fussing to pull your dress down and yammering in panic about how you ‘can’t do this here’ and ‘what happens if we get caught?’.

He grins arrogantly and uses a hand to cover your mouth and pushes at the small of your back with the other so you're bent in front of him again, your hands propped against the glass. Your heart races when he lines his tip to your core.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He thrusts himself into without warning. You let out a shocked moan. “Maybe we can talk about it when you come back in 2 weeks”, he taunts as he sets his rhythm.

Petty brat.

All thoughts wash away as you watch him take you in the mirror with punishing thrusts, so heavy, your eyes are closing again as you feel the brunt. He digs his nails into your shoulder.

“Eyes Open.”, he reminds, never breaking stride. Your bodies echo lewdly in the empty room. “You flew a long way for this, I want you to see everything.” His hand is pressed tight to your mouth and using his free hand on your shoulder to steady you, exhibiting you in the mirror.

Your eyes are open but they’re watching Jungkook. Sweat runs down his neck. You’re terrified to be caught but relish watching him take your body for himself, happy to shut up and watch.

“I could fuck you like this everyday if you wanted, noona.”, he menaces. You whimper behind his gripped hand. “Wouldn’t you like it if I could spoil this pussy everyday?”.

You can only nod in the mirror.

“I wish I could do it every day, baby.” Hand tight on your mouth, he pulls back on your body so his teeth can reach your neck. Arms off the mirror, Jungkook marks you.

When he releases your neck, he directs: “Touch yourself, baby. I want you to watch yourself come with my hand wrapped around your pretty mouth.”

You collect the abundant slick from around Jungkook’s cock at your opening to run your fingers to your clit. The other hand props yourself up against the mirror, back arched. You fight to stay focused on the mirror, the sensation on your clit making your legs buckle. Your whimpers are stifled behind his palm.

“That’s it, baby, that’s so good. His eyes are glued at your moving fingers, eyes egging you on. The warmth building at your center takes over you when he whispers.

“I'm gonna make you walk back into that room with my cum still dripping out of you.”

You gasp when he releases his grip on your face to replace your hand and continues to circle fingers around your clit while he thrusts deeper into you, and both of your moans resounding off the walls.

He grunts, slows, and lets himself fall out of you . Cum, already dripping down your thighs.

“I’ll see you in there.” He quickly buttons himself and leaves, his footsteps echoing through the empty room until the door closes.

His intentional coldness hurts but you can’t help

but feel that you deserve it. You clean up as best you can before rejoining the group.

***

You casually approach the group in the full room hoping you appear somewhat put together.

They stand in a circle and Hoseok looks at you from across. One arm around his date, he dabs a finger from the other hand underneath his bottom lip. “You’ve got a little…”

“...lipstick.”,Jimin pipes in from beside you and uses his own thumb to wipe the smeared lipstick.

“And a little…” Yoongi starts and dabs a finger in the same motion as Hoseok, only on the side of his neck.

Jimin pulls long strands of hair over your shoulder to cover the fresh bruise Jungkook marked into your neck.

Taehyung turns to Jungkook who has a shit-eating grin on his face. A few in the crew exchange glances and soon a knowing giggle ripples through the group. Blood hits your cheeks.

“What did I miss?” Seokjin says, looking at Jimin.

“They were fighting but now they’ve made up. Now You’re all caught up.”, Jimin chides.

“We didn’t make up.”, Jungkook corrects, his cheery disposition quickly fading. “She said she’s here for a night to get laid. I’m just making sure she gets what she came for.”

He walks away and leaves you to deal with the silence.

Namjoon expertly changes the attention and subject by asking about your job. He must know it’s your preferred way to avoid any real conversation.

The party winds down, the room slowly empties and guests make their way back to their cars.

The car ride home is silent, buzzes fading and exhaustion setting in. You make it back to his room when Jungkook finally speaks.

“You don’t get to be mad at me, you know.”

“Yes, I do.”, you snap back. “I just know I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t.”, he says, a flash of guilt passing over his face. “I just want you to talk to me. And we don't even need to solve any_.”

You’re relieved when he abruptly stops himself and raises 2 surrendering hands in the air. He mimics zipping his lips and winks.

No talking.

He shoves you so you fall back on the bed and pulls up a nearby chair to the edge, looking more determined than ever. He crawls above you and pushes your long dress up over your hips and opts to keep himself quiet instead of you. Diving in right away, he uses 2 fingers to spread your lips apart to give a straight licks before attaching to your exposed clit. He moans while he sucks, sending little vibrations through your center. He laps at you like he can’t get enough.

You start to squirm so he hooks an arm around one of your thighs in the air and the other hand to pin your 2nd thigh flat to the bed.

Hunched over, he continues work on you. You cover your own mouth with your hands while he flicks and sucks furiously on your clit, refusing to let up until your legs shake and he fights your thighs, eager to clamp shut around him.

Your hands drop from your face and shamelessly scream when you come, hands gripping the sheets.

He crawls up to kiss you, tasting him and yourself. He lays his head on your chest and squeezes your body tight. You stroke his head until he falls asleep. You close your eyes too, and when you open them again, the sun shines through the window and it’s time to leave.

You fuss in the bathroom mirror. Sleepy face Jungkook slides behind you and groans, voice still rough with sleep. He buries his face in your neck then lifts to look at your reflections. You both smile at the familiar position. He takes steps to turn on the shower and finds his way to you again.

He begins: “I know we’re not talking about it now….”, you flinch from his touch at the mention. He gets closer to you anyway, happy to press up against your thorny exterior. He continues, “but in 2 weeks, I’m going to ask you again. He presses his forehead against your temple and you listen, watching the mirror.

“Quit your stupid job. Please. Stay with me. And you don’t need to have an answer. But we have to talk about it.”

You nearly made it through this unscathed but two strokes to midnight, you finally snap.

“And talk about what, Jungkook? How you’ll be gone months at a time?, eyes on your own terrored expression in the mirror. “How I should uproot my life so I can live in random hotels basically alo_”. He turns you to face him and places his index finger over your running lips before you can finish.

“It’s 7:30. You need to leave if you’re going to catch your flight.” He moves his finger to kiss your lips.

He enters the shower without a word, confident you’ll be gone when he gets out.

PART 2/4 HERE

[girls4keigo]

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months. 

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a  diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

I decided to give I Am Not Starfire a chance and... frankly I personally didn't like it that much. I don't hate it, but I'm also probably never going to reread it. I'm going to make this semi-review/reaction as fair as I can. Also these are just my opinions, so if you disagree with them just take them with a grain of salt and move on.

So one red flag that DID get obliterated was Mandy's last name being Koriand'r. It's, thankfully, just Anders. Not sure if this was changed mid production due to backlash or if the ad makers just screwed it up, but whatever.

Just 11 pages in (4 of which are the cover and credits) Mandy is already slutshaming her own mother for the way she dresses. /sarcasm/ Great way to get you to like the character. /sarcasm/

Starfire has an absolutely hideously drawn thigh gap in her introduction page.

Just about the only thing the comic does right in depicting teenagers is Mandy and her friend Lincoln, who both seem dedicated to being edgelords, incorrectly labeling themselves anarchists despite being the typical anti-establishment type teen. I knew and do know a lot of teens who act like this. Any other attempts to write teens here are, frankly, cringe worthy.

This Starfire is clearly based on her 2003 counterpart, which seems odd because this book is marketed towards teens, and that show aired and ended in 2006. For context, I'm 24 now, and that show would have ended when I was about 9. I'm just barely a Gen z. Most people who are actually teens right now would primarily associate this Starfire's characterization with the TT Go! spinoff... which I believe has the target audience of 4-7 year olds. It just seems like a weird decision to not go with her comic personality in this context.

The narrative very directly tries to compare the conflict between Star and Mandy as being similar to that of immigrant parents and their children... which I guess is there, but the story itself doesn't do much with that premise. Unfortunate, as I feel more focus on that could have actually made the story interesting.

Mandy is an extremely toxic person, as she's one of those "I'm not like other girls" characters, and that makes her very hard for me to sympathize with.

I've seen defenders go "Of course she's toxic she's a teenager" but like... the narrative clearly wants us to sympathize with her, but her behaviour at certain points makes that extremely difficult. She's mean to literally everyone other than Lincoln, often for no reason whatsoever.

Just about the only thing that I'm able to sympathize with her is some of her classmates harassing her about the Titans, and the fat phobic comments she gets. However, that can only justify her behaviour to a certain extent.

The sad thing is I WANT to like Mandy, as it's rare to get fat lesbians (or fat wlw in general) in media but she's just so... ugh, at points. She's also fairly generic in terms of female YA protagonists. I feel like I've seen her a million times, with the only difference being she's not straight.

Her completely blowing up over a selfie that Claire took is stupid. She doesn't even bother to explain why it upsets her, she just yells at this poor girl and storms off. Claire is then the one to be made to apologize, despite Mandy's blatant over reaction and unwillingness to communicate.

The way the story uses Gen z stereotypes to try to relate to its audience is the kind of thing I found extremely cringy when I was teenager. Judging from some reviews I've read written by actual teens, the feeling seems to be present here for the target audience to at least some extent.

(Think how 90s cartoons and teen sitcoms had an overabundance of skateboarding and rap to try and be "cool with the kids." Yeah, it's like that but with social media and boba tea).

"It's not fun, it's hamlet" is an actually legitimately funny line imo.

Also her bird is cute.

I like Claire's fruit backpack.

Honestly, one of the only genuinly positive things I can say about this is that I like the overall art style.

For some reason Blackfire decides to attempt to kill Kori and Mandy at her school instead of taking them to Tamaran? Petty queen, ig.

Blackfire is extremely underutilized. She spends the majority of the comic spying on Mandy before the big fight.

Mandy, at the very least acknowledges she was a shitty daughter towards the end, and seems to be making attempts to be less so in the epilogue.

Her new superhero costume is lame tbh. It's just typical goth clothes with bracelets and a tiara.

Still kind of annoyed that Claire had to apologize over a selfie and that Mandy's over reaction wasn't really called out.

Other than the selfie thing, Mandy's crush on Claire is cute.

So basically, not nearly as terrible as I was worried it was going to be, but it's otherwise pretty standard YA that doesn't do much new aside from being connected with DC Comics. If you're into that kind of thing, it'll be a pretty standard read but otherwise not super remarkable imo.

Side Note: Raven is pretty in this.

Also, she and Gar snuggling is cute.

ALSO, absolutely obsessed with this image of Gar.

What the dog doing?

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[1kook]

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still.

You were you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowns. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

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

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

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

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

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

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

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

Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

Little Girl. (Younger!Nine/Wookjin x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Semi-Noncon, humiliation, degradation, size kink, fingering, slapping, hair pulling, choking, strong language, older!y/n, spanking, wedging, a dash of fear kink. Read at your own risk. Both of you are of legal age in this.

The air in Y/n's apartment was thick with tension as she awkwardly nodded at Wookjin, the son of her kind neighbour lady seated comfortably on the couch in her living room as she fumbled through one of her drawers, grabbing the teaching notes she needed to help the boy with, still clad in her work clothes which were a tight black pencil skirt and a pretty peach dress shirt, feet bare.

Wookjin bit his lip as she looked her tight ass up and down from behind since she was crouching to level herself with the piece of furniture. The boy was struggling to fight the urge to undo the high professional bun her hair was in. It looked so pretty when it was down, flowing down her shoulders and ending just above her waist. Fuck. She was so beautiful. It was a shame how she was all smiles with him when she first moved in the apartment complex but started avoiding him when she learnt that he was just a college sophomore.

Y/n sighed as she dropped a booklet yet again, trying to suppress the shudder in her fingers. Although she had her back to the boy, the woman knew he was staring. God damn. He was always fucking staring. She hated it. If it weren't for his friendly and kind mother, she never would have agreed to tutor Wookjin.

She wanted to smack herself for being so stupid. Without knowing his age Y/n had so stupidly flirted with him here and there when she first moved in. Only to find out that he was 5 fucking years younger than her.

And the fact that his door was right opposite to hers didn't fucking help.

"O- Okay!" Finally standing up with the materials and notes she needed, Y/n softly pulled in a long breath, closing the drawer with her foot before whipping around. "Let's sta-" a surprised scream escaped the girl, the bunch in her hand falling down on the ground when she came chest to face contact with the younger one, blinking up at him in surprise, unconsciously gulping down a bike.

"W- What are you doing, Wookjin?" Her voice broke towards the end of the sentence, breath hitching as she reflexively tried to step back, ass hitting the chest of drawers.

"Tsk. Don't hurt that pretty little butt now." The woman's cheeks flushed hot at his vulgar words, heart leaping up in her throat when he placed his hand on the piece of furniture besides her, leaning down to level his face to her smaller height.

"W- Wookjin! What is this-!"

"Tsk." Using the back of his hand to lightly slap her pretty lips, the boy clicked his tongue. "Funny how you talk so much yet go mute whenever I am around" inching his lips closer to the female's, Wookjin stared down at her pretty lips, breaths getting heavier against them. "What did I even do, hm? One moment you were acting like you wanted me to fuck all your holes numb the next you started avoiding me for no reason." Before he could stop himself, his slender fingers wrapped around her pretty neck.

Fuck. It felt even better than he'd imagined. So soft, so thin, so pretty and vulnerable.

He felt his cock getting hard.

"Hm?" Raising an eyebrow he trailed his fingers up and towards her jaw, cupping it before his thumb rubbed her luscious bottom lip. "Cat got your tongue again, hm?"

Y/n felt tears welling up in her eyes. Fuck. She felt so small and weak. Body frozen. "T- This is... wrong" was the only thing she could whisper helplessly. So wrong yet so good. But she didn't want to admit it. "I- I am older-"

"Tsk." Closing the distance between them in a swift motion, Wookjin pressed his lips against hers, almost moaning at the heavenly feeling. Fuck. They were so wet and soft. "Seriously?" He whispered against her lips after pulling back, other hand trailing up her sides. "That's your lame reason? Age doesn't determine anything. If you're a weak little girl who needs someone to take care of her you just are-"

"N- No!" Her features hardened, displeasing the boy as she tried to stop the hand that was travelling down to her ass, weakly pushing at his strong chest. "I am n- not weak! This is wrong! I knew this was a bad idea! Get ou-" her words locked up in her throat in surprise when a soft slap was placed on her cheek.

"Really? Funny you say that because I see you struggling with basic tasks around the complex all the time. It's quite pathetic actually. How someone your age still can't do basic things properly. A surprise how you secured this job you have honestly." Y/n's cheeks glowed red in embarrassment at his words.

Fuck. She hated how his words effected her. From the butterflies in her stomach all the way down south.

No. Wookjin was so much younger than her. He was basically a kid and she was a university lecturer. How could she let him treat her like that and make her feel do small?

And just why the fuck did she like it?

Ugh.

Her head was spinning.

"S- Shut… up" the boy threw his head back and let out a loud laugh at her petty little words.

"Aw is that the best you've got, huh little girl?" Shaking his head, he whipped the older around and forcefully pushed her against the chest of drawers, not hesitating to rip her tight little skirt all the way up to her ass, pulling at the g-string she was wearing underneath in a harsh and humiliating wedgie, landing slaps on her ass.

"Look at this pathetic little thing thinking she can decide things around here. Tsk." Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, helplessly gripping the furniture as her face burnt in embarrassment, toes barely touching the ground due to the wedgie she was in.

Fuck. It hurt so good. She hated it.

"Quiet again, huh?" Squeezing and pulling at one of her fat ass cheeks, Wookjin landed another harsh spank, pulling the wedgie up and down. "Good. Little girls like you should stay quiet and let Daddy take care of them. That's when they're the prettiest" her chest was heaving up and down, ass crack, pussy and butt cheeks on fire from the assault they were under.

The woman how good it felt. She felt so vulnerable and weak. So helpless. And then being treated like such a small little thing by someone so much younger that she'd tried to act all big in front of.

An involuntary moan escaped her when Wookjin moved the string covering her vaginal opening to the side, still having her hanging from the wedgie. "Let's take a look at Daddy's property, shall we?" Followed by a deep chuckle. "Would you look at that!" Y/n's whole body jerked forward from the harsh smack her pussy received. "Acting all innocent and like you don't like it but actually pathetically dripping down there, tsk."

Leaning forward and over her back, the boy placed his chin on her shoulder, middle finger slowly stroking her swollen folds. "But you actually love this, don't you? You filthy little thing" biting down on her ear lobe, the male pulled at it, rubbing her flesh in circular motions, fingertip prodding her entrance. "Being taken care of by Daddy because you're clearly so pathetic on your own." Biting down on her lips, Y/n felt sweat trickling down the back of her thighs, knees trembling and pussy clenching at how good it all felt. "So desperate that you'd let someone so much younger than you put you in your little place."

"P- Please!" The girl whined at last when she felt his covered erection graze against her asshole, the hole clenching in defense. "Please!" Sweat broke down on her forehead, another whine escaping her.

"Please what?" Wookjin breathed in her ear, kissing down her neck and biting the soft skin of her neck softly.

She was so going to regret this when it was over. But Y/n figured she could worry about that later.

"P- Please, W- Wookjin… m- more…" A grin spread across his devilishly handsome face when he heard the words, getting even hard at how pretty she sounded. "P- Please… please… T- Take care of me, D- Daddy… Hhhhaahhhh~" her eyes rolled to the back of her head when his finger slipped in the tight ring of muscles of her virgin pussy.

Yes. You heard it right.

"Good slut…" The boy praised, letting go of the wedgie and allowing her to stand on her feet, gripping her throat and choking her again, pushing her face all the way back and kissing her soft lips upside down, pushing his tongue in and exchanging saliva, finger fucking her tight pussy steady and good. "How does my pretty whore feel?" Letting go of her throat, he messily undid her hair, painfully aroused himself.

"S- So good!" Tears leaked out of her eyes as she cried from the pleasure. Y/n looked so pretty it was blowing Wookjin's mind. Beautiful face red, pretty eyes red eyes full of tears, breaths heavy, skin covered in sweat, legs spread as her underwear laid stretched out on one side, disheveled hair decorating her body and pupils delated, a hickey forming on her neck. "P- Please, more!"

"Fuck!" The boy whispered impatiently, plopping his fingers out of her to have the girl whined with a pout, chuckling deeply before turning her around by the help of her hair, putting her up on the piece of furniture before ripping her shirt open along her bra.

"S- Shit… you're so strong" a smug grin etched on the boy's face at her words as he pushed all the ripped fabrics out of the way, cupping her soft and fat breasts, feeling her hard numbs with the pad of his thumbs, biting his lip when she moaned from the feeling of having her tits massaged.

"Ready, little girl?" Unbuckling his pants, Wookjin uncovered his hard erection, pumping it up and down before smirking. "Brace yourself here I come ready or not~" He loved the worried look on her face as she stared at his huge cock.

"Is it even normal for it to be that big?" She innocently asked, blinking at the boy with her legs spread wide, hands out of the way and fat tits glistening with sweat.

"Awww look at this cute whore being so inexperienced" the boy cooed, wrapping his hands in her hair and aligning his tip with entrance with the help of the other. "Not that I am complaining though-" his words were cut short into a low gasp when he slowly entered her slightly fucked open virgin entrance, grunting at how her walls hugged him. "Fuck!"

"I- I've never done this before with anyone… n- not even myself…" Throwing her head back, the girl cried out, clenching around Wookjin's fat cock in defense, thighs trembling as she felt his lips wrap around one of her nipples, tongue swirling around the fat nub. "B- Because no matter how hard I tried… i- it never felt good, Daddy! Ever!" The woman whined needily, relishing in the pain. "I- It hurts so good, Daddy… Y- You're so good!"

Wookjin fucked her harder upon hearing the confession, grabbing her throat and squeezing the air out of her, biting her other nipple before pulling at it, slapping the other recently abused boob, fondling it before slapping it again, causing the girl to cry out.

"Because you were meant to be my cock sleeve only, babygirl. Of course nobody else can pleasure you like I can. Not even if you try, but-" gripping her soft cheeks, the boy pulled her red and teary face closer to his. "You wouldn't dare, would you?" Y/n whimpered from the frightening look in his eyes, gulping. "What? Didn't hear me?" Slapping her cheek, he gripped her face tightly again. "Answer when you're being spoken to!"

Y/n clenched around his cock, whining loudly before nodding hurriedly. "I- I wouldn't! Never! I would never! I am all y- yours!" She loved how he was treating her. Fuck. He was so good and more. It was perfect.

"Good girl." Wookjin smirked in a satisfied manner, pulling her closer on his cock and himself by her knee, making her scream because it caused his balls to slightly push in her now gaping hole. "Fuck, babygirl… you're much tighter than I'd imagined." Slapping her now bruised marked tits, the boy fucked her walls harder, starting to rub her clit.

The girl yelped, her back arching from the pleasure as she gripped at the younger's strong shoulders, nails digging into his skin and eyes hitting the back of her head from the pleasure, pussy expanding even more now that his balls were also ramming in and out of her, one of the male's hands groping her ass, middle finger stroking her hole which shrunk even smaller in defense.

Whining softly, Y/n's head weakly fell on one of his shoulders, chest heaving up and down as she trembled from the pleasure, softly nibbling on the skin of his neck.

The male chuckled devilishly, prodding her butthole teasingly with the tip of his finger while snapping his hips swift and rough. "Not yet?" He referred towards anal, ignoring the stuff that was falling off the chest from how hard he was fucking her, the loud banging noise of the furniture hitting the wall eliminating the silence in the apartment.

"That's alright, babygirl. We'll get there. None of us are going anywhere, after all."

.

Unedited. Honestly, even idk what this is LMFAOOOOOO.

[iinksplit]

my sleep schedule watching me consider waking up at 7am for opening... this is queued tho 😭 hihi i’m melo (21+, s/h), writer of hot girl trash raccoon lee yuram & her functional symbie known as yubi! she’s currently a low ranking journalist at the herald & has lived all her life in eden while dreaming of taking over the world ( yubi tells her to pass her exams first, loser 😔 ) all her info is scattered around the blog ( stats, bio, power ) & i have no plots so here’s an attempt at putting everything together under the cut 😬 hit the ♡ or drop an im if you’d wanna plot, i also have discord if that’s easier!! 💖

TLDR

eden born & raised! her parents were both metas who decided quickly that they wanted to settle down, get registered, & live a good safe life. her dad talks to animals & her mum has some healing powers

think about the most law abiding, nice, polite, incredibly normal two people who could ever exist. that’s yuram’s parents. that’s also how you get an absolutely unhinged child

yuram’s a terror before she gets yubi, the sort to get into playground brawls & play dumb pranks. that annoying kid who likes to ask but why tho when she’s told no. extremely bored of being a goody two shoes like her parents so she turns around & is no shoes gremlin

anyway she’s born with a funky looking birthmark that turns into symbiotic ink when some kid breaks their pen & splatters her with ink, around age ten-ish. enter: yubi!

( basically venom but ) reverse symbiote trope! yuram wants WORLD DOMINATION & yubi just wants to pass their tests & maybe get a steady income

so ( v sadly ) yubi doesn’t help with any of the taking over the world stuff. they do help with exams & chores though 🙏🏻

yuram ends up in university thanks to her symbie, as a journalism major bc she’s a nosy little shit & thinks she knows what the news should be reporting

fresh grad, just got herself hired by the herald but doesn’t get to cover the mayor chae story :( but she might be poking around on the downlow......

other symbie facts! yubi’s personality fluctuates depending on what kind of ink yuram uses to build them up, but they’ve got a solid lawful good base. they aren’t always awake; if there’s too little ink on yuram, the symbiote just hibernates/goes dormant. they communicate telepathically but yubi can either borrow yuram’s mouth or pass notes to other people to talk to them. their big venom form is a huge mass of inkperson, pitch black; kinda scary but they only use that form for sneaking around, non-combative even though yuram wishes they were. ( but someday... 😉 )

chara insp! venom & eddie brock ( venom ), jang hari ( mad dog ), ji seungwan ( 2521 )

personality / misc! gemini sun, sagittarius moon, aries rising, a powerhouse clown. loves being argumentative & is always ready to go. probably willing to go to bat for you even if she’s only known you for 10sec bc she’s nice looking for a fight like that. can’t cook or clean but would d*e before admitting it or the many other things she sucks at. her common sense only exists in yubi, really really rebellious for fun & impulsive because she’s not patient enough & just wants instant gratification. in my head her bgm is any mgk x blackbear collab bc she’s got loser punk rock vibes. disaster really

PLOTS

petty crimes crew: exactly what this sounds like! just a ragtag buncha dummies spraying graffiti & pickpocketing, have been saying they’ll commit a heist since high school but still have no idea how to. lame gang things!!

free printer services: if you need help printing something or, ahem, ‘editing’ a document wink wink... she’s here to help

herald coworkers: yuram’s notorious for being a bit too headstrong & willing to investigate excessively for a story, asking way too many questions & only trusting herself. writes articles freakishly fast once she’s done tho. maybe a mentor or someone who has to keep her in check? fellow new hire jostling for a promotion?

snu friends: anyone from journalism, or their school’s broadcasting & journalism club? maybe someone who saw her ( yubi ) sign up for a million clubs but she never turned up too

bulleog apartments: neighbour plots!! yuram’s a petty little shit of a neighbour & somehow always up to something strange

commitment issues tm: yuram’s string of flings, past & current, or the (1) serious relationship she screwed up? ( also lowkey would love an enemies to friends / lovers / worse enemies but now we care for each other gdi plot )

thats all the ideas i have in my head but we can brainstorm instead!!

[livinginncity]

if we were human

♚: lee rang x reader

❡: fluff??(angst, pure angst)

ⱳƈ: 2.5k

⚠︎: besides it being really bad? none really. like, literally a couple swears. it was fluff, and then it became angst, so...sorry, but not really because if i’m crying, so are you.

children could be heard all around the park. some screaming and laughing as they run behind, others crying after they tripped, only to soon be comforted by the gentle holds and hushed assurances of their mothers and fathers. a bit further away was a small dog park, from which came all kinds of barks and growl, as well as cooing of the passerby. and there at a bench, located slightly closer to the swings and slides attracting the younger humans, sat a man that looked less than pleased to be where he was.

“Guess who.” a female’s voice rang out as a soft hand covered his eyes. he merely rolled his eyes beneath their new coverings and proceeded to drag the small wrist away from his face. “y/n.”

the young woman sneered and scoffed before yanking her hand out of his grasp to walk around and join him on the bench. “I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you either.” a smack to the back of the man’s head could be felt soon after the words left his mouth. “Yah!”

“What are you doing here anyway? I never took you for the people watching type.”

“That's because I'm not. As if they deserve that much attention.” a hand lazily lifted in the direction of a familiar little boy, the action bringing a smile to the woman’s face.

“Ahhhh. But that one’s the exception? I thought you didn’t like little kids with runny noses, something I heard you have in common with your brother actually. Is that a gumiho thing or a family thing?” the man she addressed turned his head to look at her with an unimpressed look.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Or that you ask too many questions?”

“Well considering that was one of the first things you said to me when we met, I’ll just assume you know the answer to that already.”

she turned to look where the man’s gaze had previously been fixed and he followed suit. their eyes moved as they followed the movements of the young boy whose energy seemed to rival that of a puppy’s. ‘how fitting’ was the thought that came to the pair. minutes passed before they changed positions—the girl moving to settle her head on her company’s shoulder. said company shook her off before she repeated the action, leaving her be the second time. and he stayed in place even after she dragged his head to rest upon her own.

“Rang-ah.” the man simply grunted in response, urging her to continue. “I hate this.”

his eyebrows furrowed slightly at the sudden proclamation. “The kids? The families? Parks? I don’t really like them either. The first are messy and demanding, the second is an extremely unrealistic dynamic, and the last are way too loud and crowded.”

“No.” she took in her surroundings before speaking again. “This. I love all of this. I want it all. The kids are adorable and it feels so rewarding to be someone they rely on and look up to. I’ve had my fair share of family drama, but I’ve always wanted my own that I could cherish—pointless fights and all. And parks are probably one of my favorite places because it gives me everything I need to imagine what it’d be like if I had the first two.”

“What?” at her words he lifted his head to look down at her.

“I hate all of this shit that’s going on right now. It was one thing when you were just this occasional menace to your brother, but now the Imugi is involved and Lee Yeon refuses to let Ji Ah go again. It’s caused so many problems and with them, questions to be asked. Things could be so much simpler. Don’t you ever think about what life would be like if we were all human? This would all just be some petty high school drama. Like, Lee Yeon got class president in school and now, years later, both he and Imugi are CEOs competing in the nightclub industry or something like that.”

“You’re starting to sound like Lee Yeon. I guess you’re just as lame as him. Or maybe even lamer because really? That’s the best you can do with this fake drama?”

“Did I ever tell you that I ran into Soo Ho before you got the Tiger’s Brow back from him?” she ignored the questions, but her own annoyed him slightly. before he could respond. “I asked him if I could try them on and walked to the nearest window I could see myself in.”

“So, what’d you see? What were you? A Snake? A rat? Pufferfish?” her only response to his teasing was a pinch to the side. she shook her head before continuing.

“I saw a child.” her face changed to a solemn one. “All I saw was a snot-nosed little kid that the world seemed to have it out for. I didn’t even live long enough to have many firsts. And no one was ever there for the few I did. Well, there was one. Towards the end, I think my final year, I met an old lady. She lived alone, but she took me in the moment we crossed paths. She gave me my own room, let me help her cook, as much as a child could help, and she would always tell me these stories of her husband who had passed about a decade before. In just a few months, that woman gave me what felt like a lifetime of love. All while I was slowly dying, she made me forget the hardships, the neglect, the hatred, and by some cruel fate, she died first. But before she went, she said to me “treat my death as not another result of this terrible world, but take it as a sign that even when we know that our end is inescapable, we are able to cherish the temporary moments in which we are truly happy should we allow ourselves that much.” And so,”

the woman finally lifted her head from the gumiho’s shoulder to look into his eyes. “I think, if I could be reincarnated as a human again, I would. But since it’s probably never gonna happen I want to live like one. Get married, have a family, get mad when someone doesn’t show up for the holidays. I don’t know if I’d make it as a human with everything I know now, and I honestly don’t want to be human right-right now because I probably wouldn’t get to be around you. And I also just can’t imagine how you’d get by without seeing me every day.”

“Don’t act like you’re anything special.” he scoffed and looked back at the playground.

“You don’t have to admit it.” she stood up from the bench, looked over to the young boy he had taken in, and turned back. the woman grabbed his face and, after looking at the man for a few seconds, leaned in. “I know you love me.” and then she ran. “Soo Ho-ah! Let me play with you, that old fox is being mean again!”

“Yah!” he didn’t get up to chase her. she was right no matter how much he thought about it. somehow that weird girl wormed her way into the list of people he more than tolerated. and as he sat alone with his thoughts, he watched her play with the reincarnated boy, the latter seemingly winning their current sword fight.

does he ever wanna be human? no, it seems way too boring. does he like kids? he likes one, so that’s good enough. will he get married at some point? well, it’s just some rings and paper. and it’s not like he isn’t in love with that girl in the park.

bonus;

“Hey, y/n. If you’re watching this then...you know. I figured a couple good deeds might do me well in the afterlife, so what better way than finally letting my brother be with the girl he’s waited hundreds of years for.”

“You crazy bastard.” those were the only words that she could force her mouth to speak as she looked down at the small screen.

“I know you’re probably cursing me right now, thinking ‘this crazy bastard.’” somehow they both managed to let out a chuckle. “You know I don’t like vulgar words, but I’m not there, so i told Soo-Ho to pinch you for me every time one leaves your mouth.”

“Of course you did. It’s already a habit of his now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. Especially to you, Yu Ri, and Soo-Ho. I didn’t get to say thank you, either. You’ve all helped me more than I’d ever care to admit, but I really am grateful to have shared part of my life with you. I got to help Yu Ri like Lee Yeon helped me, got to meet Blacky again, and I got to experience so many things with you.”

the tears in her eyes were already brimming and it was clear they wouldn’t stay there long. “y/n.” she looked back to the screen as he called her name.

“go to the nightstand on the right of my bed and open the drawer.” the girl got up from her place at the edge of the bed and walked over to the wooden table. with her phone in her left, she used her right to open the drawer, and she could feel her heartbeat stutter as she laid her sights on the black velvet box that sat in it. she reached a shaky hand to pick it up, and when she flipped it open she couldn’t help dropping the phone as she brought the other to her mouth with a choked sob. all she could do was shake her head and let the tears subject themselves to gravity.

“Do you remember that day in the park?” despite not being able to actually see through the endlessly flowing tears, she managed to scramble around and find the device that had slipped from her grasp. “You were talking about all this stuff like marriage, family, kids—what it’d be like to be human because things would be so much simpler. And while I don’t think anyone could ever convince me that being human would be fun, I figured we could at least do some of those human things. We were kind of halfway there, you know? You practically live in my apartment, and Soo-Ho took over the living room with his toys, so it was only a matter of time for him to get his own room so I could stop stepping on legos—maybe get a door with a lock from the outside so I don’t have to worry about waking up covered in stickers.”

she laughed as she recalled the memory, his interactions with the little boy, and their goofy smiles when things were calm for once. “You dorks were made to follow each other into every life.”

“I was gonna propose to you after this whole thing was over. Once I knew Lee Yeon was safe and not being targeted by a wannabe dragon. I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you or...our own kid, though I think the one we have now is pretty great. And I’m also really sorry that I’m finally telling you this once it’s too late, but you were right. About what you said that day.” her breath hitched as she saw the tears glisten while they slid down his face. “I love you.

as if it were clockwork, a sob made its way from her throat and the tears began again.

“Yah, stop crying already. Please. I’d be upset if I was the cause of it.” and she tried, she really did, but it wasn’t as easy as he made it sound. “And, I know this is probably asking a lot for all that I’ve put you through, but can you wear it? At least for a little bit. Just think of it as a way of honoring my memory—the better parts obviously. You can keep my apartment if you want, too. Soo-Ho might be a job better-fit for Sin-Ju and Yu Ri, but if he says he wants to stay with you, you better let him.”

another laugh emitted from between the sobs as she listened to his final message.

“I really do love you, y/n. And if there is ever a chance of us finding each other again, I’ll tell you every chance I get. Anyway, I think it’s time for me to go now. I only have a couple more minutes and I don’t think the others are gonna make it in time. I’m scared if I’m being honest, y/n. I’m afraid of being alone, but you helped me not feel like that all the way up to the end—I finally had a family. So thank you. Love you.” and he smiled his big, child-like smile before adding on, “And don’t tell Lee Yeon I said sorry, or thank you, or I love you that much in under ten minutes.”

and just like that, it was over. no more, dumb family feuds, no more naengmyeon with no eggs because someone would always steal it, no more Lee Rang. she stared at the paused screen for what felt like hours before setting it to the side on the bed, to do as he had asked. carefully,  she took the ring out from the safety of its cushions and slid it onto her left hand. she let out a shaky breath as she stared at her ring finger and she said it back, hoping that somehow, someway, he would hear it. “I love you too, Lee Rang-ah.”

it was a while before she moved from that spot—getting on her feet only to answer the door that had just rung. opening it, she could have seen the man who had taken the place of Lee Rang’s in the living world, but all she saw at that moment was an older brother who had also lost someone he loved.

“Lee Yeon-ah.” it was then that the male finally took in her appearance. she wore jeans, one of his brother’s sweaters, and her hair was in a bun that had clearly seen better days. but what really caught his attention as his eyes traveled, was the black box in her right hand, and shining silver band on her left. then he lifted his eyes back to hers to see just how tired she was. “Lee Yeon-ah. I miss him.”

the man simply brought her into his chest as she sobbed. and she cried, and she cried, and all the while he stood there with her in his embrace. it was all he could do, he couldn’t offer her words of comfort just yet because, even now she may be much stronger than he is. because she’s strong enough to live without the promise of his reincarnation. she knows she may never see him again, but won’t risk exchanging her life just so he won’t go through the same thing.

“I miss him so much.” her voice cracked as the words came out, and he ran his hand over her hair.

“I know, I know. I miss him, too.”

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#5: The One With Astruc's Self-Insert

In my introductory post, I said the main inspiration for this blog was @hypocrisyofandrewdobson​. For those who don't know, Andrew Dobson is an infamous webcomic artist known for drawing webcomics that tend to demonize people he's come across in public or people who disagree with him online (either critical of his art or his political views), while portraying himself as the victim or wise man calling them out on their differing beliefs.

If you want to learn more about this guy who I consider to be far worse than Astruc, check out the blog in question. And no, I don't know why he draws himself as a blue bear.

Why am I talking about this? It's one thing for some schmuck on the internet to use his work to respond to criticism, but the creator of a popular animated series dedicating an entire episode to attacking his critics and trying to get others to feel bad for him is another story.

The second episode of Miraculous Ladybug's third season, “Animaestro” served as a wake-up call for fans (myself included) to make them realize how immature Astruc could be. The plot centers around the premiere of a movie about Ladybug and Cat Noir directed by Thomas Astruc, who voices himself in the original French dub.

And this isn't just a brief cameo like what Stan Lee did in the MCU. Astruc is the Akumatized person this episode, so there's naturally a lot of focus on him. Throughout the first half of the episode, Astruc portrays himself as this timid man who nobody recognizes or respects, like this idiot who doesn't know what animation is.

Doorman: This is a private event, sir.

Astruc: Huh? Excuse me? I'm Thomas Astruc, the movie director.

Doorman: You filmed Cat Noir and Ladybug? What are they like in real life?

Astruc: Er, it's an animated movie. It's all cartoon characters. We don't actually film anyone. See, there's this whole team that draw the chara—

Doorman: Whatever. Who would want to see Ladybug and Cat Noir as cartoon characters?

Get it? Wasn't that meta joke hilarious? This is how much I was laughing:

And Astruc continues to get about as much respect as Rodney Dangerfield when he interacts with other characters like Jagged Stone and Chloe.

Jagged Stone: Ladybug is one of my best buds! I can't wait to see her movie!

Astruc: Well I—I'm the director, so actually it's more my movie, so to speak.

Jagged Stone: Oh, so you're the one who created the story?

Astruc: Well, technically the screen writers wrote the story, inspired by Ladybug's exploits.

Jagged Stone: Oh, okay. So you did all the drawings?

Thomas: No, no. The animators do all the drawings.  

Jagged Stone: So what do you do then?

(Later on...)

Chloe: So you're the one responsible for this movie?

Astruc: Yes, yes! Exactly! That's me!

Chloe: Then you were the one who left Queen Bee out of the trailer. You're lame, utterly lame.

I can't believe Astruc had a scene where he interacted with Chloe and didn't insult her at all.

The episode is determined to make the audience feel bad for Astruc. Nobody respects him and what he does. Isn't that saaaaaad? Nobody cares about animated film directors like Walt Disney or Tex Avery anyway. Not even these stupid children understand how hard Astruc works.

Several Children: Ladybug! Where's Ladybug?

Astruc: Hey there, kids!

Teacher: Ladybug isn't here children. We came here to meet the director of the movie. Children: (frowning in disappointment) Aww.

(Astruc looks visibly disappointed.)

Way to insult your primary demographic, Astruc. I thought you said kids have a better understanding of these stories when people criticized the writing of a certain episode (It's that scene in “Puppeteer 2” if you're curious/don't value your sanity).

It's almost like you're using that as an excuse to half-ass your work while still getting to claim this show is so groundbreaking.

In case you can't tell, “Animaestro” is one of those episodes. The ones where the showrunners decide to dedicate an entire episode to attacking critics of the show in a blunt fashion. Whenever a show addresses criticism, they either create an obvious strawman character to parrot the opinions of fans who don't like their work, or have someone defend the show and insult the critics directly.

The problem isn't that they're ignoring criticism. It's their show, and they aren't obligated to listen to critics or fans who don't like the direction the show is taking. On the other hand, they aren't obligated to fight back like this and treat their audience like crap. Any show that does something like the three clips I showed you usually comes off as petty and immature because they dedicate so much time to insulting the critics. 

Even during the Akuma fight, Astruc has to call out Ladybug for having problems with his movie in-universe, obviously representing critics of the show Astruc claims have no right to criticize the show while it's still airing.

Ladybug: What's with that trailer too? I am not scared of cats, at all.

Astruc/Animaestro: You haven't even seen the movie and you're already slamming it?

Cat Noir: He does have a point, you know.

Ladybug: I wasn't slamming it. It's called constructive criticism!

Yeah, how dare Ladybug be angry that this movie is portraying her as a powerless coward dependent on Cat Noir as opposed to a confident and brave superhero. She just doesn't understand the genius of Thomas Astruc!

And of course the character Astruc claims is “perfect” is the one to take his side.

And that's another problem with this episode, the metatextual references. Before he gets akumatized, Astuc says he spent three years of his life working on his movie. I get that time in this show is weird (we somehow had episodes taking place on the first day of school, Christmas, Valentine's Day, and the first day of Summer), but how did Astruc's self-insert work on a movie based on a superhero who has only been active for a year? Meta-wise, it's an obvious reference to the scorn Astruc has gotten from fans after working so hard on his show, but the only people who would get that reference are the ones who are aware of Astruc's reputation online.

Self-Insert aside, I actually think the titular Animaestro is one of the more visually impressive Akumas featured on the show. Animaestro takes on several forms based off several different forms and eras of animation, like flash, anime, rubber hose, and they all stand out. Granted, some of them are obvious parodies of other characters like Goku or Sailor Moon, but the actual Akuma fight is fun to watch. According to the Mexican Miraculous Ladybug Twitter account, this episode took two and a half years to create, and it shows. It's too bad the story behind it is completely insufferable, almost like the cartoon equidistant to Pixels.

But then comes the part that honestly makes the episode worth it, mainly for how unintentionally hilarious it is. Do you want to know what Animaestro's weakness is? Do you really want to know?

Animaestro is physically incapable of moving unless someone is watching him. I am not making this up.

Ladybug and Cat Noir literally defeat Animaestro by getting everyone to stop paying attention to him.

I could make so many jokes with this, but I can guarantee you're already thinking of something just as good, if not better, than whatever I write.

And there's the end where Astruc gives Marinette his ticket to the movie, which prompts Marinette to kiss up to him for no real reason.

Astruc: Sorry, I guess you don't know who I am either.

Marinette: Of course do. You're Thomas Astruc, the movie director!

Astruc: She recognized me. Somebody actually recognized me!

Nothing happened to make her change her opinion on the Ladybug movie, she didn't really say anything to him earlier in the episode that connects to this exchange, and outside of a few lines Animaestro said, she doesn't even know why he got akumatized (even though ironically she and Chloe accidentally contributed to it because of the awful subplot involving Kagami I talked about last time). If anything, it comes off less like she actually appreciates Astruc's work, and more like she's stroking his ego just to keep him from getting akumatized again.

So yeah, this episode is awful, and the fact that it came out right after the controversial “Chameleon” only proved to show what kind of direction the show was taking this season.

But honestly, even if Astruc still wanted to make about how he doesn't get enough respect the episode could have potentially. All he had to do was make a simple change: Instead of making it about validation for Astruc as a creator, make it about validation for animation in general.

It's a common misconception that animation is only used for shows and movies aimed at children, so the episode could reflect it. Instead of the huge turnout where several celebrities appear at the premiere, instead, the turnout could be a lot smaller, with the media dismissing it as some stupid kiddie flick. Instead of getting akumatized because he gets humiliated in public/getting no respect from anyone else, Astruc gets akumatized because he sees the audience didn't go wild for the movie after the premiere. All he can hear them say is that it's just “kids stuff”.

So when Astruc is Animaestro, he goes on about how important animation is. How it's helped produce propaganda since World War II. How it helped improve special effects in big blockbusters. How the medium is used to create movies that simply can't be filmed on a physical set.

After defeating Animaestro, Ladybug shows up to talk to him. She had seen the movie earlier, and actually enjoyed it. She had a few problems with the story, but they were just minor nitpicks and inaccuracies Astruc wouldn't know about, and she was blown away by the animation. She tells Astruc not to be deterred by his critics, and continue to do what he does. As a designer in her civilian life, Ladybug knows the joy creating brings her, and both she and Astruc want to spread that joy through their work.

Back at the premiere, Astruc thinks about what Ladybug said to him when he sees some kids reenacting a scene from the movie. Astruc walks over to them and asks what they thought of the movie. They said they loved it and how energetic it was. When he tells them he is the director, the kids' faces light up and they say they want to do what he does when they grow up, bringing a smile to Astruc's face.

Isn't that a much more humble approach instead of what we got? It would have helped Astruc come across as more sympathetic, especially with animation fans. But instead, we got an entire episode of Astruc whining about how misunderstood he is.

And you know the footage used for the movie at the beginning? Remember that, because I have a huge rant about it saved for a later post.

For now, here’s an example of a creator appearing in his work done right.

[the-darklings]

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me. 

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does. 

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being. 

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie. 

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse. 

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it. 

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants. 

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head. 

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.  

Jackie should have been one of such people. 

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”   

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens. 

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore. 

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right. 

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be. 

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone. 

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.  

So much for being buddies. 

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique. 

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything. 

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now. 

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly. 

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether. 

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.   

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying. 

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past. 

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her. 

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile. 

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname. 

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole. 

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first. 

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.  

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.” 

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either. 

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one. 

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny. 

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.” 

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them. 

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds. 

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth. 

A twisted truth. 

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”  

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence. 

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet. 

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises. 

.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig. 

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH19

People weren’t happy with how things went down with Alya in the original MDCSP, so I hope this version suffices. ;)

Previous     First      Next     AO3

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

Chapter 19: Miss Missing You

Alya chewed her nails, pivoting back and forth in her desk chair as Lila settled on her bed. Her thoughts raced too fast for Alya to make sense of them, and Lila’s grave expression did little to calm her nerves. When Alya told her about Adrien and Chloe, she insisted on meeting up. Maybe this way they could both talk to Ladybug, but something was off about Lila. Her jaw was a little too tense, and those green eyes swirled with an intensity Alya couldn’t place. What was going on?

“Is Ladybug on her way too? We have to let her know what they’re plotting,” Alya said, but when Lila remained quiet, she asked, “What?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Lila said. “This is going to be hard for me, but I trust you over anyone else.”

“What’s wrong?” Alya asked, and Lila shifted her weight, tucking a strand of long hair behind her ear.

“Well, Ladybug and I…we kind of had a falling out.” Lila lowered her gaze to her lap.

“What?”

“Remember when Chloe tried to impersonate her to make everyone hate me? Well, I told Ladybug about it, and that she shouldn’t trust Chloe anymore, but then last night she gave her back her Miraculous without consulting me.” Lila recounted. “I tried to talk to her and understand why she’d trust Chloe again after what she did to me, but Ladybug freaked out on me and told me not to question her judgment.”

“For real?” Alya gasped. “That’s not like her.”

“I know,” Lila said, “and after what you told me on the phone, I definitely think something weird is going on with her.”

“You don’t think Chloe is manipulating her, do you?” she asked.

Lila pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not Chloe. I think that…well, I’m sorry, but I think Marinette is behind all of this.”

“Marinette?” Alya shot a glance at the Ladyblog pulled up on her computer, a sinking feeling in her gut.

She hadn’t posted about Queen Bee’s return—couldn’t bring herself to. Something was definitely off with Ladybug, but was it really all Marinette’s doing? Marinette wasn’t one for petty revenge, but maybe she had changed since she left. Or maybe Alya just never knew her like she thought she did.

Alya thought back to the night she was akumatized, the distant look in her bff’s eyes. She’d seemed tired, like all the fight had been drained from her. She didn’t even argue when Alya suggested they stop being friends, a fact that had haunted Alya ever since. Why had Marinette abandoned her so easily? Surely if her stories were to be believed, she would have fought harder, right? Wasn’t the truth worth fighting for?

“You said so yourself, Chloe and Adrien said they were going to get Ladybug to talk about me for Marinette. I think she’s manipulating all of them to get back at me because she can’t let go even after she’s been gone for a month now,” Lila said.

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Marinette do that? When I last spoke to her, she didn’t want anything to do with you or anyone here really,” Alya said. “Well, except Adrien, I guess, but she’s always been head-over-heels for him.”

“She’s obsessed! She’s never liked me, and I never understood why. The only thing I’ve been able to figure out is that she didn’t like me talking to Adrien, so now she’s lured him over to her side and fed him all kinds of lies about me. I don’t even like him that way, but she’s just so insecure and jealous that she thought Adrien would fall in love with me because of all of my accomplishments.” Lila hugged a pillow to her chest. “Now she’s taken one of my best friends away from me too!”

Alya crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed, draping an arm over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, girl. Maybe we can talk to Ladybug and convince her not to do that interview tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we can,” Lila whimpered. “She hasn’t responded to any of my calls ever since the Queen Bee thing. She’s on their side now.”

“Are you sure? I’ve met Ladybug a bunch of times, and she would totally pick up on it if something fishy was going on,” Alya said.

“Watch the interview tomorrow. If Ladybug says anything about me that sounds like them, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” Lila said.

Alya pursed her lips but didn’t argue. Lila’s story was just as probable as theirs at this point, and she was right. All they could do was watch the interview and see what happened. For their sake, she hoped that Chloe and Adrien’s plan failed, and Ladybug never mentioned Lila. But a heavy pit was already forming in Alya’s stomach, filling her with dread for the coming day. How had she gotten herself into the middle of all this drama? And how long would it be before the truth was finally revealed?

♪♫♪ Don’t Blame Me ♪♫♪

“How long before we give up?” Adrien asked the next afternoon. He leaned against the railing while Chloe manned the spotlight beside him.

“It’s hasn’t even been 20 minutes, Adrikins. I’ve sat up here for entire akuma battles before.” Chloe chided.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just nervous,” he said, letting a breath pass his lips.

Chloe spun on him with a scowl, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Oh no, you are not backing out this time. We’re doing this, so just think about Dupain-Cheng’s awful split-ends or whatever it is you need to keep you motivated.”

Adrien pursed his lips as Chloe turned back to her bee signal. She was right. No backing out this time. Lila was going down once and for all, then Marinette could finally be free. Marinette…

His heart fluttered, warming his cheeks. It would be obvious after today that he was helping Chloe take down Lila. Being intentionally cruel wasn’t in his nature, but he’d do anything to protect the people he loved. To protect the girl he loved.

It had taken him longer than it should have to realize his feelings for her, but now they burned so brightly, he had to wonder how he’d ever missed them. Marinette was a wonderful girl and a dear friend. If ever there was a person to fight for, it was her. She’d understand why he did all of this. It was all for her—always for her.

His heart ached with longing. Now that Marinette went to a different school, he couldn’t see her as often as he used to. Sometimes they went several days without seeing each other, and his heart grew heavier the longer they stayed apart. At least when he loved Ladybug, he got to see her every day when they fought akumas or patrolled the city, but even that wasn’t enough.

Adrien had spent too much of his life alone. Couldn’t the universe give him just one person to cure his loneliness? Missing Marinette was torture. What was she doing right now? Was she thinking about him?

He pulled out his phone and typed a simple message: what’s up?

Ugh, no, that was lame.

Hey cutie ;) what are you up to?

No, too forward.

I was just thinking about you

Too clingy. He backspaced over his message again, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Why was flirting so much harder as Adrien? If he were Chat Noir, he’d just drop a few cat puns and tell her how pretty she was, but that might be a little abrasive coming from Adrien. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off. After all, she almost kissed him in the garden too. That meant she loved him back, right?

Pressing his lips into a determined line, he typed another message and hit send without overthinking it.

Hey, how’s your day been?

A minute passed before his phone buzzed with a reply: busy. I’m finalizing my designs for Clara. I present to her next week and im super nervous!

Aww don’t be clara is gonna love them.

I hope so! she replied. So what are you up to today?

Uhh im working on a school project with chloe. He lied. We have to interview someone we look up to, and shes demanding we interview ladybug so weve been standing on the roof with her bee signal for like 30 minutes.

Wow ladybug huh? I hope she shows up for you guys. Anyway these designs aren’t going to finish themselves so ill talk to you later! Bye!

good luck!

He smiled down at her messages. Marinette was always running a million miles an hour working on some project or another. She was so driven and passionate—something Adrien deeply admired. Clara would love her designs, and he and Chloe would definitely take down Lila this time. Then he and Marinette could be together without having to worry about anything. They could move to the suburbs and buy a cozy home for their three kids, a dog, and a hamster named-

“Looking for me?” Adrien and Chloe spun around, and Ladybug cocked a hip. “What’s the emergency?”

“Uhh,” Adrien stammered.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “We have to interview one of our personal heroes for a school project, so we picked you. Isn’t that right, Adrikins?” She nudged him with her elbow.

Think about Marinette. Everything was for Marinette. The tears she’d spilled, the pain she’d suffered… Adrien was going to take it all away. Lila would never hurt her again.

“Yeah. Do you have time?” Adrien asked.

Ladybug glanced between them and smiled. “I have a few minutes. Make it quick.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped her hands together and paced toward the stairs. “Everything is set up in my suite.”

Adrien took a deep breath as Ladybug fell into step beside him. A month ago being so close to her would have sent his heart into overdrive, but now his heart was pounding for a different reason. Ladybug hated liars. Deceiving her was a direct betrayal of her trust. Even if his feelings for her had changed, he was still her partner, and manipulating her like this didn’t feel right.

“Wait.” He stopped abruptly and caught Ladybug’s wrist. Chloe was already through the doorway to the stairs, and he sent her a silent apology just in case his next words ruined everything. “Chloe and I lied to you. This isn’t for a school project.”

“Then what’s all this about?” Ladybug asked.

“It’s…” Adrien took a deep breath and continued. “You remember Lila, right? She lied about you saving her and how you two are bffs?”

Ladybug sobered. “Yeah?”

“Well, her lies have gotten out of hand, and she hurt someone important to me. Chloe and I planned to trick you into admitting you two were never friends, so that everyone can finally see the truth about her. The interview was just a coverup,” Adrien explained, hanging his head low. “We shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry.”

Ladybug eyed him with pursed lips, those blue eyes working out a solution like he were one of her lucky charms. She seemed to come to a conclusion, her face softening. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“If you don’t want to help us, I won’t blame you. I know it’s wrong to seek revenge,” Adrien said.

A knowing smile spread across her lips. “That friend of yours must be really special to you.”

“What?”

“For you to resort to something like this, you must care about your friend—the one Lila hurt—a lot,” she said, then with a sigh added, “I don’t normally condone revenge, but I know how dangerous Lila can be. I’ve almost lost my Miraculous because of her several times, so I think you’re right. It’s time everyone learned the truth about Lila Rossi.”

Adrien blinked. “So, wait… You’re going to help us?”

“I made a promise to keep Paris safe, and if we continue to let Lila go unchecked, she’s only going to put more people in danger,” Ladybug said. “It’s time someone put her in her place.”

“Hurry up, you two! I have a hair appointment this evening, and I do not want to be late!” Chloe shouted from the doorway.

Adrien held Ladybug’s gaze, and she gave him an encouraging nod. “Uh, coming!” he called.

He gestured Ladybug ahead, following close behind her, cheeks hot. This was really happening. Ladybug was going to help them stop Lila. After today, everyone would know the truth, and Marinette would be free. They all would.

“Ladybug, you sit on this side.” Chloe directed. “Adrikins and I will sit on this side.”

“Okay,” Ladybug said, sliding onto the couch smoothly.

Adrien took the seat across from her, wiping his palms on his jeans while Chloe barked orders at her butler. Satisfied with the camera angle, Chloe sat beside him and fixed her hair in her compact before calling “action.”

Chloe’s butler—Adrien couldn’t remember his name—started the Instagram live, broadcasting to all of Chloe’s followers. There was no turning back now.

“Hello out there, my little worker bees. Your queen is here with some very special guests today,” Chloe cooed in her token attention-seeking voice. “My favorite people in the whole world besides myself, obviously—Adrien and Ladybug!”

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Adrien waved.

“As you all know, I helped Ladybug defeat another akuma last weekend. Being Queen Bee again was such an honor, and I admit, even I have people I look up to,” she said, flipping her ponytail. “So, Ladybug, thank you for allowing me to become a superheroine. Queen Bee is truly an inspiration.”

“Uh, sure.” Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Chat Noir and I always appreciate help from our allies.”

“You heard it here, everyone! Ladybug values my help,” Chloe said, and Adrien cleared his throat. “Now, onto the topic of today’s livestream. People everywhere are inspired by superheroes like me and Ladybug, so today we are going to give you all the inside scoop on what it takes to be a hero.”

“That’s right, Chloe,” Adrien piped up. “I don’t have superpowers, so I have to ask: what’s it like being a superhero, Ladybug?”

“Well, everyone thinks that having superpowers is all fun and games, but in reality, Chat Noir and I have a huge responsibility. Defending Paris every day requires sacrifice, and we know the whole city is counting on us to succeed. It’s a lot of pressure,” Ladybug said.

“Of course, I know what it’s like being a superhero myself, but can you tell everyone how overwhelming it is to save the day all the time?” Chloe prompted.

“Yeah, totally. It’s a lot of work fighting akumas. Sometimes Hawkmoth makes supervillains at the worst times, and I have to drop everything to go save the city. Leading a double life is challenging, and sometimes it even impacts my day-to-day life. School, friends, family—I’m always rushing all over the place juggling two lives.” Ladybug admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I’m happy to do it. Paris is my home, and it’s an honor to defend it. Besides, when the going gets tough, I know I can count on my partners to have my back.”

“So, when you pick a new partner, what qualities do you look for in a person that makes them a good fit to work with you?” Adrien asked.

“I look for people with courage and good intentions. Often times, the people I pick are ones who have stepped up to do the right thing, even if it’s hard. They’re people I know I can trust,” Ladybug said.

“Would you say you consider your allies close personal friends?” Chloe beamed, flashing the camera a wink.

“Well, I don’t know all of them in real life like you, Chloe,” Ladybug said with a cautious glance at the camera. “Sometimes they are people I meet during a battle that impress me, and who prove themselves to be trustworthy.”

“And how do you know if you can trust someone?” Adrien asked. “Do you consult anyone for recommendations, or do you operate on the fly?”

“Most of the time when I give someone a Miraculous, it’s because they’ve demonstrated their character to me. Every person I give a Miraculous to has earned their right to wear it either by helping me or showing that they’re willing to sacrifice to save others. The decision about who gets to wear one and who doesn’t is deeply personal to me,” Ladybug answered. “Not even Chat Noir knows the identities of our allies. It’s something I don’t share with anyone.” She shot Chloe a stern look. “Under normal circumstances.”

“So, you pick the allies by yourself?” Adrien followed up.

“Yes. In the middle of a battle, I wouldn’t even have time to consult anyone if I wanted to.”

“In other words, if anyone were to—I don’t know—claim that they help you choose your partners, they’d be a liar, right?” Chloe added.

“Yeah, I don’t talk to anyone about who I pick.” Ladybug shook her head.

“Ya know, Ladybug, there are some people out there that claim to be your best friend. How do you feel about people lying about knowing you to make themselves more popular?” Chloe asked.

Ladybug locked eyes with Adrien, the weight of their mission heavy on both of their shoulders. She clasped her hands together in her lap and said, “As I’m sure both of you are aware, there will always be people who use your name for their own selfish gain, but I want everyone out there to know that I take my job very seriously. Protecting all of you is my number one priority.”

She took a deep breath. “Being a superhero is dangerous, and that’s why, with the exception of Chat Noir and my trusted allies, Ladybug doesn’t have friends.”

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?” Adrien asked.

“Yes, and they’re putting themselves in danger. Hawkmoth will stop at nothing to get my Miraculous, so please, if you’re out there… Do the right thing, and tell the truth.” Ladybug pleaded to the camera.

“It’s utterly pathetic when people lie about who they know just to get attention,” Chloe sighed in disgust. “You heard it here, my little bees! Chat Noir and I are Ladybug’s only friends.”

“Well, I’d consider you more of an ally than a frie-”

“And as one of Ladybug’s bffs, I want all of the losers out there to buzz off! Ladybug has much more important things to do, like spending time with me,” Chloe said.

“Right.” Ladybug’s yoyo beeped, and she glanced down at it briefly. “I should really get going. A hero’s work is never done.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Ladybug,” Adrien said, shaking her hand.

“No problem. It’s important to me that everyone in Paris knows I’m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust. We’ll all keep fighting hard to protect this city,” she said, waving two fingers. “Bug out!”

“Well, that does it for this livestream, little bees. Your queen will see you all again next time. Bye-bye!”

♪♫♪ Impossible Year ♪♫♪

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?”

“Yes.”

Lila was right. They really had gotten to Ladybug. Alya had done her best not to think about Marinette since their falling out. Remembering her old bff was too painful and confusing. Everything Alya thought she knew changed the moment Lila came to their school. The person she trusted became a stranger overnight. Alya wanted to believe that Marinette would never align herself with Chloe or orchestrate a hostile takedown just because she was jealous, but Alya had seen her do crazier things to win Adrien.

“I’m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust.”

How was Chloe more trustworthy than Alya? All that was necessary for the triumph of evil was that good people do nothing. She’d known from day one that Chloe was evil, so why couldn’t Ladybug see it?  Why would Ladybug align herself with the queen of all evil over someone who dedicated herself to doing the right thing? Was this really all Marinette’s doing? And why?

Was Marinette really that desperate to win Adrien? Did she hate Lila so much that she’d willingly team up with her worst enemy to get back at her for stealing attention away from the boy she liked? From where Alya was sitting, it looked like Marinette already had him, and Lila had always been clear that she wasn’t interested in him that way. Why go through all that trouble to get Ladybug to denounce Lila just to win a boy? But if Marinette was involved with Ladybug…

It all made sense now. The reason Ladybug had picked someone else to wield her Miraculous. How long had they been plotting all of this? And how could Ladybug trust Marinette’s word over Alya’s without even trying to hear her side of the story? Or Lila’s? How could Ladybug not see that she was being manipulated? She was a hero, and one of the best Alya had ever seen. So why was she fighting for the wrong side?

Her head spun, and she gripped the side of her desk for support. Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth.

“You want to save Ladybug from those you deem evil. Let me help you, Ladyblogger.”

Alya jumped at the sinister voice in her head. She smoothed her thumb over her phone screen, now glowing with dark energy. A cold feeling washed over her, all of her pain and confusion bubbling to the surface. In the center of it all stood her determined resolve, driving her to give in.

Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth. Someone like her.

[cabinofimagines]

Lercy ABC’s

a/n ; this is the first time i’ve posted without being reminded ahahaha. anyway here’s this, give me feedback bc i’ll be at work and will most likely want to yeet myself into some adult beverages. so send positive vibes pls

pairing(s) ; leo x gn! reader x percy (poly)

requests ; holy shit this was actually requested : “Can I request lercy abcs please ? Thank you !”

wc ; 2198

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Leo is just happy to be with you at any point in the day. He finally has someone to talk to that isn’t preoccupied thinking of someone or somewhere they’d rather be. Percy is most content when his hair is being played with. He gets that dumb smile on his face like :] and likes to stare up at you while he listens to Leo’s ramblings.

Beauty - What do the admirer s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Percy personally loves staring into your eyes. He finds something new each time he looks at them in different lightings, even though you swear up and down that your eyes aren’t special. Leo likes how pretty your hands are. No he doesn’t have a fetish, but he’s just amazed at how pretty hands could be. I mean they’re hands.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Breathing exercises is something that Percy is really good at, so he’s the go to in the relationship when you’re having an attack. He can calm you down within 10 minutes or so depending on the severity. Leo makes it his personal mission to cheer you up after or when you feel down, often using Percy as a sacrifice to humor. But he likes tracing patterns on your skin, it helps both of you in the sense that you calm down faster and his heart stops clenching in worry.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

You and Leo are scheming constantly about your future, always making absurd plans about your futures together, but they’re never set in stone. Percy will join in occasionally to add his own ideas, but mostly he’s just admiring the two idiots he plans to spend the rest of his life with.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Leo tries to adapt depending on where he is and often that’s a pretty submissive/passive position. Percy naturally takes on the dominant role, but more of a passive dom presence. He doesn’t mind taking orders, but he’s not to be pushed around either. I think either of them wouldn’t be too pressed if you or the other wanted to take the lead for something.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Loyalty is Percy's fatal flaw so it’s hard to imagine him holding a grudge for longer than an hour at either of you. Leo will skirt around the subject until someone addresses it, but he’s not actually upset. He tries to avoid the problem which will rub Percy the wrong way since he likes resolving things when they happen, but usually the issue is dropped.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Leo is capable of taking care of himself… mostly. But he still greatly appreciates and enjoys when Percy and you baby him sometimes because he loves the attnetion. While he is the only one that’s really babied, each of you make sure the others are taking care of themselves too. They both notice when you do small things like making their favorite foods or gifting small things that remind you of them so they try to reciprocate that energy as well.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Percy is fairly open with everything that crosses his mind  once he’s comfortable and he loves that you feel comfortable enough to tell him most– if not everything too. But he has his moments where he’s not comfortable sharing everything. Leo is the same, but he still doesn’t like to talk about specific things. If you mention it, he physically will flinch at your words and you’ll know to drop it.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

The most you have changed Percy is how often he picks up after himself. He’s not a messy person, but he does forget to put things away after he’s done with them. You’ve had a few choice words with him after the first few times, but after you nearly twisted your ankle by slipping on a sock of his, he surrendered and swore to never leave a sock on the floor again.

Leo’s fatal flaw is his inferiority. He often feels like he isn’t good enough, but with both you and Percy wrapping yourselves around him constantly, he’s learning that he is the shit. This is why he doesn’t object when you two baby/ take care of him, because he thrives off of words of affirmation and physical touch.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

They both trust you enough to not get too jealous, but if someone is being persistent, Percy won’t hesitate you wrap both you and Leo up in an embrace of some kind. Leo can get pretty jealous, but usually hides it by amping up the pda and confidence. It can be embarrassing but no matter how much you scold him for it, you always wind up laughing and kissing away his jealousy.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? Percy has one of those “leave you wanting more” kisses. He never kisses long enough. Leo is either playful and spontaneous or a deep kisser. They do mix it up to keep things exciting, but both leave you breathless no matter how they kiss.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

(so i kinda wrote something already but i’ll explain how you and leo started dating since that’s not explained.” It started with just you and Leo dating, as you two had kissed multiple times before battles and late at night, and Leo just had to bring up the “what are we” comment.  It wasn’t long after when you noticed how much he was staring at Percy Jackson. You were also staring, I mean who wouldn’t, but you teased Leo about it and he eventually admitted that he was interested in a polyamorous relationship… with Percy. (hence the fic)

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

For Percy, it was the day he met you and Leo at the ice rink. You three had gotten hot chocolate together before he had to leave, but he took a last glance into the shop window before walking away and the image had been stuck in his mind ever since. You both were squealing over the promised date he agreed to the next day. He wished he had a camera to take a picture, but he decided to commit it to memory instead.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Percy most likely will use variations of your name or even stupid names correlating to your godly parent. He’s not against using pet names, but you’re one of his best friends and it’s weird not to tease you even if you guys do kiss sometimes. Leo is a little more cheesy, but still kind of creative. He may call you an endearing nickname that correlates to your godly parent as well (ex. sunspot, flower) but he also likes using spanish pet names as well.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Percy shows it and does it know it. Although he can be romantic, he doesn’t spout that he’s in love to everyone, but it’s not like he’s hiding it either. Leo on the other hand is LOUD about it. If someone inquires about your relationship, he’s got a whole monologue prepared.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

If you don’t like PDA, you are so unfortunate in this relationship. Fortunate in the aspect that your partners are not afraid to show you off, but unfortunate that they show you off. Leo mainly does it to tease you, but also because he really likes staying close to you. Percy is very casual about it, usually wrapping an arm around one of you while holding the hand of the other.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Percy has such dad energy in this relationship. He’s pretty lame sometimes, but in the end you wouldn’t want to go without him. He can usually dissolve any petty spats you and Leo had started out of boredom, and he does with fluffy blankets and a pillow fort too.

Leo is mr. fix it. Not just when it comes to objects in the house breaking, (the poor sink has erupted one too many times thanks to Percy) but also when it comes to sickness or bad days. This boy has a solution for everything and he comes up with it in no time. Most of the time the solutions are good, very rarely do you have a bad option when it comes to Leo.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Both them are romantics. It's disgusting how sweet they can be. When those two put their minds together, they could set up a date worthy of a pinterest board.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Percy is like your right hand man, giving you advice and lending an ear to listen to your plans of success. He’s really there for you to bounce ideas off of when you need to, and also because he thinks you look stunning while talking about your ambitions. Leo, on the other hand, is your biggest cheerleader. He’ll show up to your events/work with a big smile and your favorite thing to snack on. If you feel like something went wrong, he was there to assure you that you looked hella badass.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Living as a demigod is already pretty dangerous, so I think that thrill is already met for both of them. However, if you want to travel somewhere, both would be down to go with you. As long as there is some sort of foundation of a routine there, they both wouldn’t mind leaving home.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Both are SUCH empaths. Leo can tell if you’re upset just by looking at your eyebrows and how scrunched up they are. Percy knows you’re stressing over something because he can feel the tension in your shoulders from across the room.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Leo has been searching for some type of affection most of his life and was shot down various times. He is not going to let this slip away after he found not just one, but two  people who cherish him and lift him up this much.

Percy as we know is super loyal. He’s already planned out your lives together in his head and he doesn’t feel like changing that anytime soon. He will do anything to keep you two beside him until his last breath.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

It seems unfair, but if no one can decide on who gets to sleep in the middle that night, you play rock, paper, scissors. It’s unfair in the sense that you had gotten way too good at the game which would provoke whining from Leo that you needed to change the game next time.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Percy is super cuddly and so is Leo, but when Percy has his bad days, he prefers to refrain from cuddles. After awhile, Leo and you learned that cuddling with two people was okay, but always looked forward to later when Percy would squirm into your warmth, a smile on his face like :]

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Percy distracts himself with chores and training, maybe he bugs Leo into joining him just so he doesn’t completely go mad. Leo usually tries to stay in the midst of chaos, if it’s loud then he has no time to miss you. If it’s possible, they might even try to plan a surprise visit to you.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

With Percy’s flaw and Leo’s massive amount of love and obsession of not losing you both, this relationship is just full of people who are like, “I’ll die for you.” “Not if I die for you first.”

- - -

taglist ; @bandshirts-andbooks​ , @beneaththeiceandsnow​

[mindofharry]

deja vu

in which harry gets a new girlfriend and it’s giving him major deja vu.

angst ! fluff ! all of the above ! feedback is welcome as always <3 based off of the wonderful song, deja vu by olivia rodrigo!!

“Well, maybe we should end it”

Harry suggested and Y/N froze. end it? why is that even something that came into his mind. It was a small, petty fight about a girl. A nice girl that Y/N is apparently jealous of, she’s not by the way. The girl just is the a little too close to her boyfriend, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek when she thinks Y/N isn’t watching them. And harry just sits there, let’s her do that while Y/N his girlfriend of three years is sitting right in front of them. Never did he bitch about her or complain, just compliments for the nice girl at the party.

“W...What?” Y/N stuttered sitting on the hood of the car. The car they bought together. They both worked at an ice cream place down in town, so with the little money they both had and a little support from their parents, they both this beauty. Of course, harry was the only one able to drive it for a whole year because poor Y/N didn’t have her drivers license yet.

“I think we should end it, this” Harry said pointing between himself and Y/N. Her eyes began to fill with tears and the guilt hit him quickly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But i just can’t do this back and forth thing anymore. We’re not in middle school” Harry said and sniffled a bit. Y/N nodded, she had sort of know someone like harry wouldn’t stay with someone like her for that long anyways. It’s just apart of life, right?

Right?

“You can keep the car. I’ll find some other way to get into work” Harry mumbled handing Y/N the keys to their shared car. Her eyes widen and anger surged through her veins.

“How dare you” Y/N yelled, a sob coming out of her mouth. “You’re dumping me? you’re fucking dumping me?” she yelled out and that attracted some stares. They were in their place, their special place in Malibu under the stars and near the beach. That’s all theirs.

“You flirt with this girl for a year of our relationship. you do it right infront of me, harry! and you can’t handle it anymore?” Y/N exclaimed and harry sighed, looking slightly embarrassed as more people started to watch them. “Fine, fuck go be with her! i don’t care” Y/N said wiping the tears off of her cheeks and getting into the car.

“Goodbye, harry”

And a couple of weeks later, harry was with that nice girl. That pretty girl, who was a carbon copy of you - harry figured that out pretty quickly, when they got to know each other more.

They were watching reruns of glee when he got this moment of deja vu. Like he had done this before.

Because he had. With Y/N.

“I love this show” Y/N giggled, her hand in harrys hair. Harry nodded agreeing as they watched the new directions so a performance again, this time tina and mercedes were leading the group.

“Y’know you don’t have to pretend to like it, we can change the channel if you want?” Y/N offered and Harry shook his head quickly and blushed. “No, i like it. Could make a good band name, no? New direction, one direction?” Harry teased and you giggled.

“Huh. You’re more of gleek than i am”

“i hate this show” The nice girl said changing the channel, before harry could speak up. Instead of disagreeing with her, he just nodded and kissed the side of her head. He liked glee.

Other times of this deja vu stuff, it was really honest mistakes. Like, nearly calling her Y/N’s name. You were just on his mind, it was nothing serious. He missed the car, that’s all. He also missed the strawberry ice cream and the late night chats under the malibu sky. So he took her there. He put billy joels, ‘uptown girl’ on the radio and grinned when she sang to it. She wasn’t as care free as Y/N though. Y/N had her own shrine of billy joel, her dad is absolutely obsessed with the man and passed that on to Y/N.

Of course, harry had heard of billy joel but had only listened to his most famous songs. Y/N introduced to him to the real billy joel, it was their thing. Listening to billy joel in Y/N’s basement after a long shift, harry would lay his head on her stomach as Y/N sang to vienna or sometimes harry would pull her up and dance around to piano man. He missed that so much.

The chorus of ‘uptown girl’ came on and harry looked over at the nice girl, he now calls his own.

“I love you” He said and she stopped singing and placed a hand on his knee.

Y/N did that. Had her hands all over him.

“I love you too” The nice girl hummed and Harry sighed, now getting another sense of deja vu.

“Did you see Harry and that girl together, Y/N?” Sarah, her new shift buddy asked. Y/N had seen them together, the nice girl that harrys with likes to post everything on social media. Y/N sees the traded jackets, the billy joel, the i love you’s in malibu, the strawberry ice cream. Y/N wondered if the girl laughed at harry because of how annoying he was during glee, or when he puts a jacket on way too small for him, or when they sing in the car. Does he steal Y/N jokes, like he stole everything else?

“Yeah, i did. Seem like a nice couple” Y/N said with a smile. Sarah, only knowing her a couple days, thought nothing of it. Y/N was breaking inside, she literally felt her heart break in two everytime she thought of the two.

How could harry just replace Y/N like that?

“I’d like to be an actress” The nice girl said licking her strawberry ice cream. Harrys eyes widened, deja vu. Y/N had told him, just before they started dating that she was going to be the next meryl streep - why she chose meryl streep, he’ll never know. Y/N has always wanted to be an actress. She had done a few jobs here and there, and always got the main part in plays and musicals. Being an actress is Y/N’s things.

“That’s great” Harry said supporting a forced grin. The nice girl didn’t think anything of it. Y/N wouldn’t known something was wrong.

A different girl, but nothings new.

Harry had to get away. Away from the nice girl who had ruined Y/N and Harrys relationship. So he went to the ice cream parlour. He knew Y/N was working with sarah, mitch is one of his closest friends and he’s dating sarah — so after some digging and prodding, he got the info he needed and set off to town. Without her. Harry dropped her off at her apartment, made up some lame excuse of not feeling well and needed to rest. Y/N would’ve offered soup, the nice girl just said get well soon and closed the apartment door in his face. It was too easy. It shouldn’t be that easy to lie to her, it was never like that with Y/N. Harry couldn’t lie to Y/N for the life of him, even around birthdays or christmas. He sucked at keeping secrets and telling fibs.

“Welcome to All things nice, how may i help you!” Y/N’s voice rang out as she was cleaning out the sink. The bell had notified her, that a customer was in the shop. She just didn’t know that customer was her ex boyfriend.

“Are we able to talk?” Harry asked wringing his hands. Y/N quickly turned around, almost bashing her head into the shelf. Her eyes were wide and her heart broke, again. She could barley handle the instagram posts. She can’t handle harry in real life. Not after what he did. Maybe if it was a mutual break up - but it really was not a mutual break up.

“I’m sorry, we don’t serve that” Y/N snapped pushing the spoons into a drawer. Harry flinched and nodded placing his hands in his back pockets. “Ok, i deserved that” he mumbled. He just needed to explain, just five minutes.

“Please, Y/N. i just need to explain” Harry pleaded, sounding proper desperate. Y/N couldn’t help but feel anger and sadness as she listened to harry beg for her time. She just couldn’t believe he was back so quick, so early in his new relationship.

“What do you possibly need to explain” Y/N asked dropping the spoons and looking at harry over the ice cream. It was rather cliche, really.

“You dumped me, because i pointed out that a girl - by the way, i was right - was coming onto you. I just needed reassurance, harry. That you wouldn’t cheat, that you wouldn’t leave me!” you exclaimed and harry nodded. “I just needed that. and i’m really glad that you dumped me. because we obviously weren’t meant for each other” Y/N said continuing her clean up.

“We are meant to be” Harry said. “We’re Y/N and harry” he said, his voice breaking. Y/N almost felt bad.

“No. You’re in a relationship. You say i love you, to her. You sing billy joel and swap jackets. You eat strawberry ice cream with her for fuck sakes harry” Y/N yelled, pulling at her hair. Harry sniffled and nodded. “I know, I know” he mumbled.

“Do you get deja vu?” Y/N asked “hmm?” she asked again when she didn’t get an answer.

“Thought so”