#But you sit there and are like “yeah he’s clearly just evil and a bad person” and it drives me INSANE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deeply-unserious-fellow · 3 months

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I've seen a lot of people comparing Huskerdust to a healthy version of Stolitz and it's kinda got me thinking... Staticmoth as the evil fucked up version of Fizzmodeus.

THINK ABOUT IT!!!!! The parallels between Val and Ozzie are obvious. Like that man wants to be Ozzie so bad it's insane, from the way he dresses to the way he decorates to straight up OWNING A ROBO FIZZ, Val clearly wishes he was the embodiment of Lust. But are there parallels between Vox and Fizz? Actually, surprisingly yeah. They're both showmen, like aggressively so. They're very public figures, with their face all over every product in Hell(albeit Vox is doing it a lot more purposefully then Fizz). Fizz's antagonism towards Blitzø is actually pretty reminiscent of Vox's towards Alastor(except Fizz and Blitzø have a lot more baggage lmao), and they even share some aesthetic similarities! Specifically the colors of Fizz's robotic limbs matching Vox's overall color scheme. Which speaking of robots, that's probably their biggest similarity overall: they're both partially made of technology. I hesitate to say cyborg because Idk how much that applies to Vox, since object heads aren't typically classified as cyborgs as far as I know, and we don't actually know how much of Vox is organic(also cyborg is just one of those words I have an inexplicable dislike of Idk-), but like. Think cyborg I guess. Like Vox is a LOT more of a dick and probably doesn't have a very tragic backstory? Maybe? Unclear. But the similarities are undeniable.

Okay, now that individual parallels are out of the way, how could their relationship to eachother parallel Fizzmodeus? Starting with baseline aesthetics: they got the height difference. It's not as dramatic as Fizz and Ozzie's but TO BE FAIR, Huskerdust are the same way(their height difference is obvious, but not as massive as Blitzø and Stolas'). Staticmoth is also very buisness-partners-with-benefits and some hints at deeper feelings, which is how we were introduced to Fizzmodeus. I don't think Val and Vox feel the need to hide their romantic feelings? But tbh it could go either way we haven't seen much of their dynamic yet. That's kinda where the similarities I could spot find because see previous sentence, so let's move onto the differences!

I think a good way to breakdown what makes Staticmoth toxic Fizzmodeus is actually by bringing Alastor and Blitzø back in to compare and contrast how Val handles Vox's rivalry with how Ozzie handles Fizz's. In Radio Killed the Video Star, the only reason Val tells Vox that Alastor is at the hotel is to piss him off. He clearly enjoys Vox's reaction, and keeps egging him on. Teasing him about it. Which like, friendly teasing between partners is well and good, but Val is clearly just doing it cause he wants to see a fight and doesn't care about how distressed Vox is about this. Vox goes off on his own and sings a fuckin banger, gets publically humiliated, causes a massive blackout. Val doesn't really do shit to help him out, just kinda sits there and. Idk watches? Unclear what the other Vees are actually doing because most of Stayed Gone takes place in funny TV land where Vox is capable of bending reality to his whim for the sake of visual interest. But what Val is actively doing during the musical number isn't important so who cares. What's important is that he egged Vox on, convinced him that confronting Alastor right then was a good idea, and then just sat back as Vox got so pissed off he had a meltdown. Which I SWEAR I'm not trying to dramatize this scene it just sounds really fucking bad when you write it all down from this perspective. I think it's also worth noting that all of this is DIRECTLY AFTER Vox did the exact opposite for Val, calming him down so he doesn't make a fool of himself in public.

Meanwhile compare that to how Ozzie handles Fizz and Blitzø's relationship. During House of Asmodeus, once Fizz realizes Blitzø is there, he starts publically roasting him about how shitty his love life is. Ozzie encourages him, and even gives him a little congratualtions in the background when Verosika joins in for changing the subject, but the difference here is that House of Asmodeus takes place in a much more controlled environment, so it's less likely either of them will have to face consequences for being assholes. There's also how Ozzie's encouragement is just a lot more genuine. Like "yeah babe, go insult that guy who traumatized and abandoned you whoo!" rather then "hey hey look there's that guy you hate. You should go fight with him lmao show him who's boss." Then there's the ending. At the end of both Stayed Gone and House of Asmodeus, Vox and Fizz eat shit and die. Don't worry they're both fine like immediately after, but while in House of Asmodeus Ozzie immediately rushes over to Fizz to make sure okay, we uh. Do not see Vox interact with anybody but Alastor in the direct aftermath of his eating shit and dying, which is fair because he's in his weird little gamer cave. Then we skip straight to the Vees having a meeting to decide what they're gonna do about Alastor, and we don't really know what any of them were doing in the interim between the end of Stayed Gone and the meeting, so uh this part of the comparison kinda falls flat. But again something worth noting is that Val just straight up. Does not care about Alastor during the meeting scene. He's sitting there bedazzling his fucking gun BY HAND with school glue and rhinestones, not even paying attention to the meeting, despite being the one to get Vox all riled up about Alastor IN THE FIRST PLACE.

In short: Val encourages Vox to fight Alastor without thinking it through, doesn't bother to help out during the actual fight, and then immediately stops caring the moment the fights over. Meanwhile Ozzie, while encouraging Fizz to pick on Blitzø, backs him up the whole time, and while still supportive of his boyfriend, doesn't actively encourage Fizz to do things that would get him hurt. Ozzie also supports Fizz by refusing to let Blitzø have an Asmodean crystal because he knows Fizz wouldn't like it! Which is the exact opposite of pissing your partner off on purpose so you can watch a fight!!! And if that isn't enough evidence for you, then uh. I guess you could compare how Val treats... just everybody around him, really, with how Ozzie does(but that's more individual character analysis than relationship analysis). Or you could talk about how fed up with Val's shit Vox clearly is in comparison to the mutual support of Fizzmodeus. Or how. Val throws a glass at Vox. And breaks his phone. And then Vox has to scream in his face to get him to listen-

Idk how to end this so uh. DEMON ATTACK RAH!!! 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #staticmoth #fizzarolli #helluva asmodeus #helluva ozzie #fizzmodeus #fizzerozzie #late night ramblings #gal overanalyzes random shit

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steddiesucker · 2 years

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Thinking about Eddie with the kids playing DnD after school at the aforementioned building and getting roped into a game of Truth or Dare even though he’s aware playing a game other than DnD with some nosy kids isn’t a very smart thing to do in the first place.

But Jeff and Gareth are pretty convincing, so there’s that too. Eddie just can’t say no to free lunch for a whole week, now can he? What harm could a game of Truth or Dare do anyways, right?

In hindsight, Eddie should’ve known the universe isn’t going easy on him.

“Eddie, Truth or Dare?” Dustin asks with a huge grin on his face.

That kid is just way too happy about the fact Eddie is participating. It’s a little suspicious.

“Well, I’m no quitter, sooo…” Eddie is stretching the last word, punctuating his decision with a flat hand thumped down on the wooden table, “Dare it is.”

Dustin giggles all excited. “You have to kiss the first person who enters this room on the mouth!”

A chorus of ‘ewww’ and evil laughs with fingers pointing in his direction goes through the round.

Eddie smirks before he shrugs. “Alright, yeah”, he says, fully aware no one will come through these doors since it’s well past school time and no adults are around whatsoever, “If someone walks in here, I’ll do it.” He emphasizes the ‘if’ with a satisfied grin.

Dustin cocks his head, looks at the watch on his wrist and says loud, “three… two… one-“

Suddenly the door bursts open.

“Henderson! What the hell man!? I told you to be outside on time!” Steve’s standing in his usual mom pose, shooting daggers at the kids.

Dustin sighs happily, “always reliable”, before his gaze shifts from Steve to Eddie, still grinning. “No quitter, right, Eddie?”

Eddie sits frozen in his chair, looking at Steve and can’t believe his (bad) luck. He looks at Dustin. “You little shit! You planned this!?” Eddie whisper-shouts accusingly.

Dustin just shrugs triumphantly and makes some gestures for Eddie to get moving.

Eddie gets up abruptly, sending the chair flying back with an uncomfortable screeching sound and more or less stomps around the table, over to where Steve stands.

Now it’s Steve who’s frozen, eyebrows pinching together. “Uh, hey man, you good?” He’s clearly lost of what’s going on.

Eddie wants to get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid and already braces himself to be punched in the face or shoved away. Eddie halts right in front of Steve, who put his hands for safety in front of him, confused as hell.

“Whow, Eddie, wha-“

Eddie quickly grabs Steve by the neck as gently as possible, taking in the confused brown eyes Steve gives him.

“Don’t hate me for this, Big Boy”, he breathes out before leaning in, thinking ‘fuck it’, since it could be his last time with Steve ever again, maybe even losing him as a friend, and seals both of their lips in a soft kiss. Eddie deepens the unresponsive kiss by pressing harder into him, squeezing his own eyes shut in fear of a fist to his face.

To his surprise Steve let’s out a little sound and kisses back-

No wait, what!?

Eddie feels how Steve grabs onto his vest and pulls him closer, licking into the metalhead’s mouth. It was Eddie’s turn now to make a surprising sound, practically whimpering.

When they break apart both of them look flushed, staring into each other’s eyes, completely stunned.

Loud cheering and a chorus of “Fucking finally!” erupts behind them.

Eddie didn’t know if he should be angry with Dustin or relieved the kiss went better than he could’ve ever imagine.

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ncteez · 1 year

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Unlikely Scenario (k.m)

You’re in love with the way your boyfriend is nothing but loving and sweet outside of the bedroom. You love even more the way he falls into the persona of a rough and aggressive dominant in the bedroom– but what if you also want to love your boyfriend when he’s the one on his knees?

or the one where you try to push your dominant boyfriend into submission and it’s a struggle. it kind of works, then again, it kind of doesn’t.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give mingyu a boner

minors dni!!

WORDCOUNT― 6k

PAIRING― mingyu x afab reader

CONTENT― established relationship, submissive girlfriend trying to pull the whole “oh how the tables have tabled” on her dominant boyfriend

WARNINGS ― its mingyu so there’s some mentions to how huge this big ass bitch is compared to you (size kink in the form of height). If that pulls you out of the story, i’m sorry.

NOTE― ok so this started as something, then as i wrote it..it became something else. yikes. anyway, i need him so bad u don’t understand. this fic is dedicated to me because I deserve it. also, i cannot even see straight after writing this, can’t believe i did this in a mere two hour time frame…jfc. not proof read

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― BIG DICK MINGYU, pussy eating/face riding, masturbation, whining and whimpering, hair pulling, begging, teasing, cock warming, pussy drunk mingyu, floor sex, sitting on his lap position, crying, unprotected sex, overstimulation, he kind of takes control back but it’s not in a dominant way– it’s more of an im so desperate to fuck you, i can’t stop.

There are days where you look at your boyfriend and think, yeah, he’s very clearly a soft and adoring man. One who is endearing, with his glistening eyes in the grocery store and tired yawns when he gets home from work. On those days, you find yourself melting into his rough palms, teasing and swaying you further from the release you both needed.

Then there are days like today, where you look at him and he looks just like he does on any other day, but you want to see those tired droopy eyes glistening in a different way. Shining in the way he makes yours do when he’s hovering over you. Never have you even suggested this to him out of the three years you’ve been dating. You love being manhandled, degraded, teased, and he loved doing it to you.

The dynamic works perfectly, and of course, it’s not always like this in the bedroom. Sometimes he isn’t too keen on edging you for hours with an evil smirk, sometimes he just wants to love on you and be close to you.

And on a day like today, you don’t want any of that. You don’t want his fingers prying you open and pressing into you until you’re soaking one smiling boyfriend and probably the wall behind him, no, no. You don’t want to hear the sounds of his palms slapping your skin, or his teeth grazing your most sensitive areas. No!

You’re so in your head about it today, staring at your boyfriend like an animal hunting for prey. He’s just sitting there, unknowing, giggling at stupid memes the two of you have seen four thousand times by now, a talk show muffled behind his laughs because you’re really more focused on him than anything else. It’s a sunday afternoon after all, and today is the only free day the two of you have when you’re not both exhausted from the week’s events.

You wonder if he will be into it and if you’ll even have the ability not to melt into his grasp the second he shifts into his dominant self. You wonder more though, what it’ll be like to have this big ass man shivering at every touch you give to him, begging for more, whimpering.

“Are you just gonna look at memes all day?” You ask, making your way into the living room to claim both the couch and Mingyu as your seat.

“Probably, why?” He starts, leaning back against the cushions to make room for your legs on his lap. “You wanna do something today?”

“Hm, not really,” You shrug as you get comfortable, reaching an arm up to twirl his messy hair in your fingers. He hasn’t even brushed it today, but you love the way it looks on him. “I just wanted to ask.”

Mingyu turns his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at you with a knowing look. You never act this nonchalant if you don’t want something. You never play with his hair like this unless you’re both cuddled up in bed or you clearly want him to read your mind.

“What’re you getting at?” He asks in a playful rasp, tilting into the feeling of your fingers in his hair as if he’s a puppy about to start wagging his tail. “You want something, and I’m not about to start making guesses without a hint.”

“You’re right, I do want something.” You smile, tugging slightly at a stand of his hair and looking away from him. “But I’m not gonna tell you what it is. You’ll just have to find out when it happens.”

He huffs in response to that before letting out a breathy chuckle. You wonder if he thinks you’re just trying to be a brat today. Maybe he thinks you’re gonna be annoying so that he will wrestle you down on the bed and put you in your place. That’s not it though. All you need is to get a reaction out of him in order to have him retiring with you to the bedroom sooner rather than later.

It didn’t take long to do that, as expected. It’s barely three in the afternoon by the time he’s fighting off a semi-hard on because you won’t stop pressing his buttons.

From complementing his arms in the most annoying way to “accidentally” grabbing his bulge without warning. You know, the whole blatantly grabbing it then looking him in the eye with a small “Oops, thought it was something else.”

He gritted his teeth through it for a little while before throwing his own form of teasing back at you. It all came to a sudden stop when he pressed you against the wall, effectively leaving no space for you to run and staring you straight in the eye. “If you want me to fuck you, you can just say that.”

Of course you could have just said that, but it’s not what you want. You want to fuck him.

So, now here the two of you are, you’re against the wall and he’s looming over you with all the power in the world. He knows how to end the teasing, he knows how to give you what you’d normally want, but he doesn’t know that maybe you can flip the tables on him.

He’s taken aback when you don’t look away from him, and even more appalled at the smirk you throw his way. Already, that switch in his head went off and you can tell that at any moment he’s going to drag you into the bedroom and give you what he thinks you want.

“You think you know everything,” You smirk, throwing your hand forward and grabbing his growing length through his loose sweatpants. He winces at the feeling, arching into it almost. “If you want to fuck me, you could just say that.” You continue.

You mimic his words from before, a small power play to assert some type of dominance over him. Even in the position you’re in right now, even if you know all he needs to do is throw his hand around your throat to put an end to your plan, you’re still going to try.

“Oh?” He quirks his brow, eyes trailing from your eyes to your middle, then back up. “You think I’m that desperate?”

You smile with a short nod, squeezing him in your palm to see if he reacts. He does, but you don’t think he notices. You can see that little curl on his lip twitch, with his confident smile never truly falling.

“That hurts me,” You fake-whine, now palming him to urge his cock to grow to its full length. “You don’t want me as badly as I want you?”

He pauses, closing one eye as if to think with the correct side of his brain and try to ignore the fact that you always know exactly how to jerk him off.

“you know that’s not it.” He falters with a gentle voice, giving into your false search of reassurance and once again arching into your hand.

You can feel the press against your palm, he’s getting there.

“Then why don’t you ever show it?” You press on, prodding his brain to continue to take his dominant confidence down level by level. “I’m always the one having to ask for it.”

Mingyu doesn’t pause this time, his arm at the side of your head lowers to your cheek and caresses you there.

“I love when you beg for me though,” He starts, leaning in closer to ghost his lips over yours. “You love it too.”

You can practically feel him not back down, even though he clearly isn’t aware of what you’re trying to do here. A wave of confidence flows through you too, and you refuse to back down this time as well. Your hand remains, pumping him through his pants and lurching forward against his lips.

He sighs into it, the hand caressing your cheek goes to the back of your neck as he, as always, dominates the kiss and angles your head in any way he deems fit.

When you don’t react the way you normally do though, he appears to put even more effort into it. Kissing you in all the ways that would usually make you moan. Until he’s losing breath and trailing down your neck.

At that point, you slide away from him leaving that small space between him and the wall and abandoning his now fully hard length, pulsing with no friction under his pants.

He stares at you as you back away from him with a smile, motioning for him to follow you. When he does, it’s another small victory in your head. You’re the one leading him this time, he’s the one chasing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks as he follows you through the hallway, already untying the drawstring of his sweats and slipping them off by the time he gets to the door of your shared room.

You don’t answer, and for some reason that’s got him thinking too hard about what’s happening right now. Never once have you rejected his advances. By now, you’d be grinding against his thigh and taking whatever you can from him against that wall in the other room. Instead, you’re stepping into the bedroom and not removing a single article of clothing.

He watches you with curiosity, scratching the back of his neck before lifting his shirt off of him as well. If he wanted to, he could walk up to you and have you right here right now, but he can admit to being genuinely curious as to what the fuck you’re trying to pull on him today.

“C’mere,” You say, standing against the bed and ignoring the fact that he’s so big. From his biceps to his shoulders, to his cock.

When he walks up to you, he thinks he’s going to be able to simply press you back to have you falling onto the bed and spreading your legs for him, but he’s shocked when he gets to you and you’re the one managing to spin him around and harshly shove him down on the bed.

He stares up at you in shock when you straddle him with a smile, and he can’t help but let out a sigh when you plant yourself directly on his length without so much as adjusting it.

“No, really,” He starts with another wince, hands shooting to your waist to stop any looming assumption that you’re about to start grinding against him. “What are you trying to do?”

You laugh, reaching down and pulling his cock into position, flat against his pelvis. You raise the band of his underwear and easily snap it back down onto his length, the head of it peeking out now. He seethes out a pained sound when he feels the snap, his shoulders tensing at it before he looks at you for an answer.

“I’m trying to see how much you want me.” You say casually, waving your hand as if it’s obvious. “I’d like to know why you’re fighting it. Unless you really don’t want me as much as I want you?”

He furrows his brows at you and swallows around his words. This isn’t what he’s used to, but he does hold a particular type of love when it comes to giving you what you deserve. He thinks briefly back to all of the times you’ve been shaking, begging, and crying to have him. Is that…is that what you’re trying to make him do?

His face feels hot as a blush creeps up on him. He’s not used to blushing in bed, in fact, the last time he blushed around you was when you had sex for the first time and you both expected the other to be as vanilla as possible.

“Oh–” Mingyu starts, his hands on your waist gripping a bit harder when you instantly cut off his words with a harsh grind.

You’re not going to argue about it. You’re going to have him fucking writhing if it’s the last thing you do. You grind harder when he doesn’t react past trying to stop your hips with his grip, still he hasn’t continued his train of thought, so you think you’ve got it in the bag by this point.

“Jesus,” He groans when you continue even as he tries to stop you. The fabric of his underwear rubs harshly against the underside of his cock so aggressively that it’s starting to burn. “Okay, fuck. Okay.” He tries to get you to relent, but you don’t.

The immediate overstimulation is a lot to take for someone like him. Usually he gives himself just the right amount, never too little, never too much, because usually he’s the one in control. He’s realizing now though, how hard it is to give in to the lack of control. It’s not that he isn’t enjoying it, it’s just that like, you know, he likes overstimulating you.

“That��s right,” You comment with a smile, sighing out at the feeling of rubbing yourself against his length. “Be quiet unless you don’t want this.”

He is still just staring at you in awe, the searing pain of fabric-rash nearly throwing him over edge and making him want to put a stop to it almost instantly. But then he remembers how often he’s used your clothing against you. Now, looking up at you as you grind against him, he can’t help but think you’ve never looked more sexy than you do right now, using his own tactics against him.

Perched up there, looking down at him with what he assumes is the same type of smirk he gives to you, he gives in easier than he ever expected he would. Already, he finds himself wanting to ask you to take his briefs off, already he wants to feel if you’re wet because of this. Already. Goddamn, that was fast and it’s not looking promising for him.

“You look like you want to say something,” You say, grinding back and resting your hips for a moment. You don’t spare him though, as you move your hand to resume the stimulation against him. “Go on, tell me what you wanna say.”

He rolls his eyes at you, laughing internally at how good you already seem to be at his job. He doesn’t mind it anymore though, interested in seeing how you intend to go about all of this. Really though, you could have just said “Hey, let me have control this time.”

But no. He should know you don’t work that way. You never ask for things outside of the bedroom, you simply demand them. He really should’ve known that you’d want to do this at some point.

“Nothing to say?” You ask, pulling off of him and standing to your feet. “I’ll take it that by the look on your face, you know exactly what’s happening?”

He nods, watching you stand and take your own pants off. There, he can already see the wet seeping through your panties. He nearly lets out a groan at it, because you somehow appear to be more wet than usual just by putting him in his place.

“Get up.” You demand, now having him in the head space you want him in.

He listens without a single protest, scooting forward and standing up in front of you.

For a moment, when you look up at him, you nearly buckle and want to beg him to take back his control. So tall, so broad. That blown out look in his eye always gets you, but at this moment he’s the one that is waiting for direction and it feels so fucking surreal to have him looming without intent, waiting, anticipating what you’re going to do. It’s intimidating to say the least, but you press on.

“Now–” You pause, swallowing down that last bit of submission in your head and looking up at him. “Get down.”

He skews his head, hooding his eyes as he does just that. Slowly but surely lowering himself onto his knees in front of you.

You look down at him this time, feeling much more confident when you see him like this rather than him towering over you. The confidence comes right back as you shuffle closer to him. He scoots back as you get closer, up until his feet are nearly under the bed and his back is against it.

Somehow, he looks obedient down there. You’ve never seen him look like this, with his eyes staring up at you, hair in his face and eyes sparkling much like they do when he tries to find the perfect tomato to buy and bring home.

Mingyu opts to stay silent for now, watching and waiting to see how you plan to take what you want. But that silence is short lived when you lift your leg onto the bed and hover your clothed pussy in front of his face.

Already he’s reaching out with a proud moan and trying to grip your ass to pull you against his face, but you resist the pull.

“Hands to yourself,” you chuckle out, swirling your hips in front of his face. “I’ll tell you when you can touch it.”

He nearly groans in protest, but doesn’t. He lowers his hands and watches you dance what he wants in front of him. Honestly, he can smell your arousal and it’s already driving him insane.

“Is this what you want?” You ask him, pulling at your panties until they shift between your folds, exposing all but your entrance and clit to him.

Mingyu can barely respond, suddenly spiraling into a world of arousal at the way you dangle yourself in front of him. He swallows hard around a lump in his throat, tongue falling out of his mouth for you to sit on without so much as an ounce of shame.

“Hm?” You urge out an answer when you reach down to grab his hair and force his eyes up to you rather than your pussy.

His whispered “yes” comes out in a rasp after he pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and while you wanted a please at the end of his admittance, you take what you can get.

You adjust your panties back to their rightful position before sitting the expanse of your pussy against his chin while keeping his head tilted back by the hair. He nuzzles slightly, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of you like the animal that he is.

“You act desperate to taste but you aren’t admitting it.” You laugh, guiding his head against your panties and fawning over the way he presses his nose into it without shame.

Mingyu admits it with his tongue falling back out of his mouth again. Flattening it against the wet fabric and not moving it even an inch just to taste the stale arousal you managed to gather for him to swallow up.

The warmth of his tongue is enough to have you gripping his hair again, pulling his head back and away from your core just to look at him. His dominant tongue strains to reach out and continue tasting you though, to the point that it’s almost embarrassing to see him act like this.

“God, I didn’t think you could be so pathetic so fast,” You comment, pressing him back to your core and grinding up against his tongue.

You can feel him flex the muscle, stiffening it to press the seat of your panties into your pulsing hole, and releasing a small moan at the way your leg shakes a bit at it. Even when he’s down here, face full of pussy, you’re still reacting like you would if he were the one in control. He might love it a bit too much. Even if he looks pathetic down here, he’s only pathetic for this pussy.

“Mhm,” he hums against you, leaning more into the pussy in front of him rather than the harsh grip your hands have in his hair. “If you’d just let me–”

You’re taken aback when he goes against your demands of keeping his hands to himself. You can feel one of his hands shoot to your ass and press you more against his mouth, and his other hand hooking your panties to the side.

Barely able to react before a moan leaves your lips, he buries his tongue into your with a pointed hum against you. You can feel the vibrations flow through you to the point that you can’t help but grind. Fucking yourself against his tongue and then pulling back in a way to swirl your clit around the muscle.

His remains focused on the act as he closes his eyes. He even finds himself satisfied by the way you move on him that he releases the grip on your ass, trusting you to take what you need from him yourself, and instantly shoots that same hand between his legs. Not offering too much to himself, but enough to have him moaning the way you clearly want him to.

That, he does. Pressing his palm against his cock and furrowing his brows as his tongue tastes and licks up every inch of you. The way you grind is heavenly and the way your fingers tug at his hair only heightens the pleasure for him when he finally groans into you.

The sound alone is enough to have you grinding harder, your thrusts becoming shorter just to feel his tongue repeatedly hit the same spot on your clit as you do it. You can see his lips curl into a smile around his tongue and you roll your eyes at the image of his unwavering confidence. Trying still to dominate even while on his knees.

That’s when you take note of his moving shoulder, hidden from under your hiked up leg.

“So that’s why you seem so content,” You comment, halting your grinds. “Focus on me, get your hand off of your dick.”

His eyes shoot open, realizing he’s been caught and instantly follows your demands. He follows them so much actually, that he does focus entirely on you. Your voice speaking to him that way, denying him of his own pleasure? Fucking amazing, that’s what you are.

Both hands shoot back to your ass as he practically hugs you in order to plant your pussy directly back onto his face. And just like that, he willingly and intentionally smothers himself in your scent. He easily nuzzles his nose against your clit while swirling his tongue around your hole, poking and prodding it while holding your hips in place.

He can feel your hands in his hair grip tighter, and then your legs shake and you try to pull away. But no, not this time. He will let you take control after this. He promises himself, and promises you with a desperate moan to keep you planted on him.

The moan wasn’t an act, he actually is desperate to get you to come this way, nearly purring into you when he pulls his head back just a bit to lick up and down your slit at an aggressive and animalistic pace.

“Taste so good,” He groans, allowing himself to spiral as he laps away at you. “More.”

You’ve gone silent save from constant sighs of pleasure and hums. More? He wants more?

Already loving the way he manages to still be dominant while on his knees, you do the opposite to gain control again. You can tell he’s incredibly turned on, so now is the perfect time to pull that control back. You slide off of his face, pulling your leg back and watching the whole time as his mouth manages to chase the taste of you until he no longer can.

You study him, his cock leaking against the band of his briefs and his lips wet and glistening. He looks back at you with a look of…anger, maybe? You chuckle at it before lifting your shirt off of you and letting your breasts spring free.

“You were so close to begging,” You coo at him, stepping forward and falling to your knees in front of him, almost mimicking his own pose. Still, he towers over you like this, but you make a point to make him smaller than he is when you push his head down to your chest. “What a cutie.”

For some reason, he loves that compliment so fucking much in this moment with you. He strains his body to suck against one of your nipples, humming at the compliment and wanting nothing more than to hear you praise him now rather than beg him. Never did he think this would be something he’s into, but damn.

You sense that he likes it with the way he moves his tongue on your chest, he always speeds up his actions when you do something he likes. Usually it’s when you start to cry, or whimper, or choke– but this time it’s because you called him cute.

Taking note of that, you hold his head against your chest as you allow yourself to feel his tongue abuse your nipple briefly. Then you’re throwing yourself back into action by scooting back and away from him before tapping at his legs. “Take these off, and sit properly.”

He listens, in a daze of wanting nothing more than to have you back in his mouth in whatever way you deem fit.

You’re pleased by his obedience when he kicks his briefs off and fully exposes his raging cock. Leaking, stiff, slightly raw from the fabric. Your mouth nearly waters at it when he sits flat on the floor and leans against the bed.

Typically, you’d go ahead and choke on it for a few minutes, but by this point you kind of want to feel him inside of you. You want to see how he will react to the overwhelming relief of having his cock inside of you, and so you slip your panties off and plant yourself on him without warning.

His arms shoot around you with a drawn-out moan of feeling you go straight for the kill. You slide down so easily, and he can’t help but shiver at how wet and tight you are as you spread yourself open on.

He squeezes around you with his arms, burying his face into your neck with a gasp and somewhat of a whimper. One that shows you that you’re doing exactly what he needs, but probably not what he wants.

You, on the other hand, hold your moans in so that you can hear him clearly. With his hair tickling your cheek and his cock practically impaling you, it’s difficult not to try and wiggle away from your own doing. He splits you open so fucking good, the uncomfortable fit making your ears and cheeks feel hot as you try to adjust without showing him a reaction of either pain or pleasure.

He’s the one whimpering about it. You know that the stretch you’re feeling must be overwhelming on his end too. You can feel his cock twitch, and his breath hitches with each second you don’t move on him. You sit there with your weight holding his hips in place to where he couldn’t fuck up even if he wanted to, which you can tell he does.

And you stay that way until his gasps become wet, and you can feel the remnants of drool fall against your neck as he tries to contain himself. You stay even as his gasps turn to little moans, pleading for you to move, until they turn to full out whimpers of pain. His hands grip at you in this harsh and close hug, his chest squishing your tits so close to your own body that you know he’s coming undone as you sit on him.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You question his hair, and you feel a short nod.

“Say it.”

Mingyu’s body jerks under you as he spreads his legs and leaves your ass hovering just above the floor as you sit on him. The slight change of angle causes you to moan softly at the way the head of his cock reaches impossibly deeper.

“Just ask, and I’ll let you.” You continue as you try to compose yourself, clenching your walls around him to elicit a response, but it appears he’s gone.

Absolutely lost to the warmth of you, his hands grip harder and his legs tense up.

“I could be coming so deep inside of you right now,” he tries to say, flinching at the way you clench around him again. “Of fucking course i want to fuck you.”

You pull back from his grip to give him a disappointed look.

“Well, you can’t.” You smile, clenching around him again and watching him drop his head back against the mattress in a pained groan of defeat.

And like that, he feels you clench again, and again, essentially jerking him off with your pussy alone until he’s babbling and rolling his eyes back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, still.” He groans, throwing his hand to his hair to run his fingers through it, as if he’s searching for any type of relief since you’re not offering much to him. “I bet you feel so full right now, can’t believe you’re not bouncing on me yet, can’t believe you’re not begging me to fuck you.”

It’s like a fucking competition at this point to have him completely give in. You want him to give himself up to you, you want him to let you take him for all he’s worth.

“Not until you give in.” You challenge, swirling your hips just a bit to see if it helps your case. And god, it does.

Surprisingly, he winces and begins to shiver under you at just that short movement, you watch his hand go from his hair to the blankets just behind and above his head to grip at them. You can feel him try to tense his ass, just to press into you a bit– just to see if he can get away with fucking you.

“I can see how badly you want it, just admit it.”

There it is, and there he goes. That last bit of brick wall between his dominant side and submissive side disappears and he’s falling into it. Easier now than before, it’s not an act now. Though it wasn’t entirely before either. He is desperate at this point. He’s not doing it because it’s what you want, he’s doing it because it’s what he needs.

You draw back slightly at his hiccup, not at all expecting him to start fucking crying. But he does, his eyes prickling and glistening more than they ever have as the tears well up in his eyes. Not tears of sadness, but very clearly tears of pleading.

“Oh,” You sigh out, clenching again but this time completely unintentionally at the image. Your big, looming boyfriend is sitting broken with his cock nestled so deep inside of you that he’s actually fucking crying because you won’t let him move. “My god.” You sigh out again when he looks at you with a deep breath.

“You do want me that badly.” You confirm for him, knowing that his throat must hurt as he tries to continue to contain himself.

He nods aggressively, not even realizing how far he’s fallen from his throne, furrowing his brows as one of the tears falls down his cheek and he’s a heaving mess waiting for you to just fucking move.

So, you do. You slide him out of you just a bit before sitting again and in an instant he’s shooting his arms around you and gripping you so tightly, hoping to whatever god above tells you to hang onto him because he knows for a fact that he can’t string together the words at the moment.

Just like that, he gains control over you in a way that isn’t dominant at all. He’s lost in it, holding you so tightly and tipping you onto your back so fast that you can barely comprehend the speed he’s fucking you at.

His eyes are still wet, and his hands are still bruising, and his cock is driving into you so aggressively that somehow he’s going harder than he does when you ask him to fuck you rough. So this is how he is when he’s desperate.

The wet sounds of your pussy being slammed, his lips sucking at your neck, whimpering at the sudden and intense relief his cock is getting– it’s um.. it’s a lot to handle.

And when he starts trying to talk in a whisper, it comes out at varying volumes, causing your ears to ring with somehow, even more arousal than before.

“Can’t believe you pulled this out of me,” he starts, long and hard thrusts pushing you up inch by inch on the floor under him. “You feel so fucking good,” he continues, rambling out words he doesn’t even know he’s saying. “I couldn’t–” He pauses in a moan, slamming into you particularly hard and causing you to yelp, which causes him to nearly growl out the next words. “I couldn’t hold back anymore,”

You can’t respond, as you feel the lights in your head flicker and the fog set in.

“To think your pussy could have me crying,” he whimpers out pathetically this time, feeling his orgasm approach so fast that he doesn’t even want to edge himself like he normally would with you. “Still so tight, fuck.” He compliments through his chase, up until he’s stuttering his hips and crying out a string of curses and apologies for managing to be on top of you when he knew you wanted to be in control.

It’s not long before he realizes your spiral, mid orgasm, he notices your overstimulated shaking body and the reality smacks him in the face. Normally, you’re a sub, you’re his sub.. You practically forced yourself back into the mind-set while trying to force him into it, and when he tipped you over and couldn’t stop himself from taking the pleasure from you, you spiraled with him.

He continues to whisper out pained apologies as he releases the last bit of his cum into you before pulling you back up and into his arms. His heart is pounding, and his cock is twitching sensitively inside of you when he does it.

He winces at the feeling but focuses more on your silence, rubbing your clit roughly as you sigh against him limply, up until your body begins to shake in his arms and he works you through your orgasm like the perfect boyfriend he is.

“That didn’t end the way it was supposed to.” You pout, disappointed that he still ended up being the one to get both of you off.

He smiles fondly at you, feeling like he’s weightless as you gripe and complain about it.

“We can try again. I promise to totally submit to you next time.” He says with a gentle rub against your waist as you step into the shower. “I’ll even beg.”

You look at him with interest, smiling slightly but hating the fact that it didn’t work out how you wanted it to this time.

“I did cry, you know..” He reminds you, his cheeks heating up at the embarrassment of the fact that you managed to pull that out of him.

“You did.” You poke fun at him, feeling the water from the shower hit your sweat and cum stained skin, it’s warm and soothing. “And it was hot.”

He quirks a brow.

“We are too alike,” He gripes with a laugh, shaking his head and preparing to get into the shower with you. “but it’s gonna take some practice if you want me acting the way you act.”

“But you cried.”

“I did.”

#mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

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weebsinstash · 3 months

Text

Ok so I kept procrastinating but I finally finished Masquerade earlier today and just. Oh my fucking god, kicking my feet, twirling my hair around a finger, giggling ,rewinding, smiling like a GOON, I have THOUGHTS

--Val's red coat is his WINGS and they're glorious. And not to mention he wears that like, slutty open chested black v neck underneath where he's lowkey showing off his nipples too, the slut. The gold heart belt buckle and the matching gold accented accessories too. Ugh. You can't say he doesn't dress up, and I really liked getting to see the full reveal of his body so to speak, the way his violet arms become black fingers, also is he, is he wearing like gold manicured claw cap things sometimes, why is he such a diva, he's so extra

--the Addict music video WASN'T just being artistic, Valentino's smoke CAN become physical actual chains and bondage and oh my gooddddddd I'm using this knowledge for EVIL purposes.

Boom! Sudden third eye opening moment, but remember that post I made about "Val who starts dragging you around on a leash because he's too much taller than you to keep leading you by the hand" ? His lower set of arms could totally hold onto you BUT I can totally see him using these chains all the time now, to drag you around and just restrain you and shit. Ugh. Just. Him having you completely immobilized and helpless and shaking like a chihuahua as he can run his fingers along you and whatever else he wants, listening to you gadp and squirm

-- ok I know the whole point of the poison music video was showing the horrible shit Angel is made to do and how he's dehumanized but like.... obviously, from.. a fetish perspective... you know what I think 😩❤️

Like you can't just show me a shot of Valentino having Angel in his arms and he's got all four arms wrapped around him in like almost an embrace, kissing, KISSING while they fuck. maybe I'm so shy but that's so... intimate, like, ok fuck my ass i guess, that's like sex, whatever, but kissing me on the MOUTH, let alone with tongue? you might as well be looking into my soul or something dofnofjfjg, not to mention Val biting his neck while they do it like you CAN'T me all of that and expect me to be normal!!!

--platonic yandere Husker with an alcoholic Reader though. He forces you into these weird little therapy sessions when yeah he still serves you drinks but he cuts you off when you're fucking plastered, like he enables you until you're having TOO much, amd by that point you're yammering with your loose lips and answering ALL His questions. Siiiiigh I can see him seeing how you're down on your luck and burying your worries and sorrows at the bottom of a bottle , getting so drunk you can barely sit up straight, and he starts getting protective of you, secretly following you to bars when you won't just get drunk at the hotel, making sure your drink doesn't get spiked, having to kick some ass to protect you and drag you home more than once

--i was such a fool. If Valentino is such a, quite frankly, perverted fucking idiot that he LICKS CHARLIE, fucking CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR upon first meeting her, he ABSOLUTELY does creepy shit to his darling day ONE. He CLEARLY has ZERO impulse control: he drinks, he smokes, he forces himself onto other people, he throws things when he loses his temper. He uses his power to be a bully and seeking unrestrained self gratification

--this is completely unrelated to everything else here but Zestial is hot in that like, antiquated charming eldritch evil kind of way. He seems like the sort of creature you could encounter deep within an enchanted woods, you're freshly dead and wind up in a bad part of Pentagram City and this TOWERING gentleman says some shit like "turn back child, there is no safety for you here". He's. He's sexy in that Neflix Castlevania Dracula way where there's an appeal in his age and his wisdom and his composure and just his full-on aesthetic and such. Like bro it's so easy to miss it but he's the oldest of the Overlords and he bowed in respect to Carmilla for what she did. He's chivalrous and loyal and just 👀 got my eye on him...

--bro watching Val manipulate Angel to get Charlie to leave fucking HURT and I've thought about Reader being in that exact scenario SO many times! Valentino is manipulating Angel to control you, and he's manipulating YOU to control Angel. Sure, he'll have Angel make you cry and chase you off so you don't get emotional and interfere with a shoot, or so that you don't sabotage whatever manipulated state he has Angel under at the time, but when you're off on your own drinking and crying and sobbing and feeling oh so horrible and pitiful, then Val is sibling up to you, cooing about, oh how MEAN Angel was to you, he didn't have to be so harsh to someone so sweet--

Could you imagine the fucking. Tiered angst and manipulation of Angel hurting Reader because Val pressured him to, and then Reader going off and getting drunk and being self destructive, and then at your emotional weakest Val is popping in to strike some kind of deal with you or fuck you or whatever, and then Angel blames himself, and here's Valentino, "that wouldn't have happened if you just did what you were told :3c" and Angel is even further under his control because now he's terrified he might "fuck up" and get you really hurt

--siiiiiiiigh imagine like drinking with Angel and you've been down there for like two months and you're idly chit chatting and, something something, you offhandedly mention something like "god fuck Val had me so fucking wasted I could barely sign my employee contract" CUE ANGEL IMMEDIATELY DROPPING WHATEVERS IN HIS HAND AND SHAKING YOU, "what do you MEAN you signed something??? You're just waiting tables, what did you SIGN???" And it turns out Val whipped out like ONE OF THE B I G "types" of contracts for you. God I really want some elaboration on how those contracts work and how Val or any Overlord strikes deals and even gains powers because it's very clear not everyone had the same level of abilities, and also lowkey the power scaling in Hazbin is kinda busted like not to be a dweeb but you've got people running around basically having Quirks

--ALSO THIS IS SO DUMB BUT I HAVE A COMPLAINT SIR. Valentino straight up says "no one watches porn for the dialogue" EXTREMELY INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE. When you've watched enough porn or at the very least you're hunting for a specific fetish, dialogue can be Duper important. You can see 20 different actors do the same scene BUT have a specific pair who, maybe used a specific line that stood out to you and made it unique and made it worth watching. You know for a long while there I was writing smut and feeling like I was doing the same descriptions over and over again and it kind of burnt me out and turned me off and that's when I tried to shift towards more emotional and environmental and thematic sorts of stuff

Listen all I'm saying is I have been ENAMORED like straight up with the idea of Reader becoming the fourth V because you become close to all the Vs and you have your own talents and they all like you and shit. You're able to pitch product ideas to Vox, even help him if you're a programmer or a coder or something, Valentino.... maybe you have magic hammer space pockets and can run him errands or you cook drugs or you're like a sexy bodyguard for him or, he just likes getting drunk and doing drugs with you, and Velvette is that #Bitch who you gossip with who likes to design new shit for you and bounce ideas off of you from time to time. Like the gradual slide of "oh we're all hanging out and they think I'm actually kind of cool," to "oh they keep inviting me to hang out. I feel special. I'm one of the cool kids. Maybe I even have fun powers and they encourage me to be mean and evil and its fun" to then "oh you're straight up shoving new clothes in my face and you keep using this one specific V nickname for me instead of my real name and I stg I don't have personal space anymore and I'm always being crowded by at least one of you literally 24/7"

God just. God. Just. GOD I AM SO WELL FED. I saw what Viv was selling and I got in line and I've finally gotten my food and it is FILLING, my craving for controlling obsessive possessive douchebags is sooooo sated right now 😩❤️

#yandere stuff #sinprompts #yandere hellaverse

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gaoau · 2 months

Text

you'll never resemble a human, so stand up on your claws and kill your own God

theory of the two demons warnings — this is set in the bsd beast universe, so if you havent read/watched that, i do not recommend reading this. theres spoilers and it probably wont make much sense anyway if you dont know what the fucks going on for everyone else that has read beast, have fun word count — 5.5k note — bonus 😝😝

prev.

"have you ever heard about the theory of the two demons?"

"i haven't. what does it say?"

"that to combat a great evil, you need an even greater evil. say, for uprisings against the government, the government can suppress the people with forced disappearances, for example."

"so it's bad against worse?"

"precisely. it cancels out. it reaches a point where evil is just the norm. a demon against another demon; do you get it?"

"i see. like… fighting fire with fire. only a demon can kill a demon."

"yeah, that's… that's a good analogy."

"where did you find this theory? it seems interesting."

"that's not important. i just thought you'd like to know about it."

"why's that?"

"so you don't resent me after i'm dead."

"i'd be surprised if you're actually mortal at all."

"now that's a very cursed thing to say, [Name]."

"my apologies, boss."

[Surname] [Name] is not required for his plans by any means, Dazai knows, but there's a needle of an unnamed feeling pricking him on the back of the head. he sits in Mori's office, reading old newspapers from two or three years ago. it's his latest special interest, so Mori doesn't question it and keeps supplying him with new material. but Mori also questions it, because Dazai doesn't give anything that isn't worth it the time of day. it is an interesting topic, he admits, but it raises his suspicions just as much.

strange murder cases across Japan are not uncommon, what with ability users running wild. he tries not to think much of it. he can't, though, not when Dazai excitedly gasps, "Mori-san! this one could be useful!" as he points to a particular article from Nagoya. spontaneous deaths concentrated in a relatively small radius—likely the work of an ability. an interesting one. one that Dazai knows he doesn't need. one that Dazai hears murmurs of from unilateral memories.

Mori hums, "what is it?" he wonders what could have possibly caught the demon prodigy's eye. but as soon as he glances over to the newspaper and the bold kanji from two years ago, a chill runs down his spine.

"spontaneous deaths, no signs of physical trauma or any diseases, unrelated and irregular victims," Dazai starts listing off. Mori knows this case like the back of his hand. "it's clearly an ability user, wouldn't you agree?" Mori's had his eye on this one for the past two years. "probably a child, too, seeing how erratic they are."

Mori thinks Dazai is aware of a lot more than he's letting on.

"we should fetch them like we did with Q. they might be an ability worth having in the mafia's arsenal."

Mori blinks blankly at the cunning child staring right back into him with an unassuming grin. suggestions of a mind with normal thoughts, those abnormal people wouldn't be able to fathom. because Dazai is not special, however his schemes may play out. he offers him a smile, a bit more strained than he wishes to express. "okay, Dazai-kun, i'll leave that to you."

and a parallel story comes to life—a story where kids can't cry, but they can pray for their lives.

it's easier to find something when knowing exactly where to look for it. Dazai doesn't waste any time paying a visit to the ruins of a research facility in Nagoya. whatever shall be rebuilt from these remains, he'll make sure it doesn't impact his plans. admittedly, he doesn't know what is waiting for him at the next location on his to-do list. among the rubble and the blood, he finds a stainless steel bracelet. he knows who it belonged to and he knows where to keep it for the sake of repentance.

after his short detour, he makes his way to Shizuoka. he's all smiles and innocence when he speaks to the lady in charge of orphaned children. when he's allowed inside and the woman calls [Name]'s attention, he hears the echo of a gunshot ringing in his ear. he remembers cursed words meant to follow him in every new page.

[Name] is sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall and taking up space as their legs are stretched out. one of their little brothers—Dazai doesn't know which one—sits against them, holding a book. as soon as the woman calls their name, [Name]'s head shoots up. they pat their sibling on the shoulder, chuckling at their childish whining, before approaching their beckoning mother. she introduces the two to one another with a warm grin and promptly leaves them to talk in private.

as they're sitting outside, watching children of all ages play with a ball, Dazai presents them with the cheap bracelet. "do you recognize this?" he prompts them to take it, but they don't budge. they scan the jewelry with their eyes briefly. then they shake their head. Dazai sighs, returning the bracelet to his pocket.

he lets silence settle between them, leaving space for [Name] to ask any questions. without stained walls and dying children, he wonders what this version of [Name] has to say to him. how sharp are their teeth? how deep do they bite? how much do they burn? but they don't look at him as they say, "i don't know who you are or what that bracelet is." they flinch when one of their siblings falls face first on the grass. their eyes are soft, without any trace of fear. "why are you here?"

amiability and [Name] are dissonant, Dazai thinks, but truth stands that the looming cloud of anger clinging to their shoulders doesn't exist here. he considers the many paths he can take them down, between violence and comradery. "listen," he starts, choosing to stand neutral where he knows he shouldn't disrupt, "it's your choice, but the ability you have—" [Name] snaps their neck towards him, "—is very useful, and a lot of less than nice people will come to get you for it."

the last time [Name] used Mirror Mirage was two years ago. the last person to ever know about it was a man in a lab coat. "i'm past using my ability. it's been long enough." with their family and their life, they hardly feel the need to steal from others anymore. they look Dazai in the eye with a passive stare, harmless, curious, willing. the stare of an older sibling scolding him for acting so childishly.

"about that…" he trails, rising from the bench. he can't see [Name] from his peripheral vision. he knows [Name] has no hostility within them unless he gives them some. "i was told to burn this orphanage down just to get you. but i'm being nice about it." and he won't give them any reason to bare their teeth. he's learned his lesson. he knows better from his own parallel mistakes. "you're a smart kid, aren't you?"

"are you extorting me?"

"not quite, i'm just looking out for you." a chuckle slips from his tongue. there's a fine line between his lies and his benevolence. it seems he cannot change his ways—he can only make them softer.

[Name] purses their lips in thought as they ponder over his words. "will everyone here be safe if i go with you?" they crane their neck to look up at him. he's not that much taller than them, even while standing up, wearing nothing but black, hiding behind his bangs and bandages. he still feels unreachable, too big and too lonely, like he takes up too much space whether he wants to or not.

"you can watch over them yourself," Dazai reassures them. he takes a step and turns to face them, offering them his bandaged hand.

"okay then." without a moment's hesitation, they reach for his fingers. they rise to their feet. "i'll go with you."

"welcome to the Port Mafia, [Name]."

Dazai feels in their hand the moment they realize exactly who he is and where he comes from. they blink owlishly at him as he smiles back without a trace of animosity. [Name] relaxes their muscles, now knowing they've made the correct choice. later that same week, they meet again with the man in the lab coat; the head of the Port Mafia itself.

it's fleeting, [Name] realizes, but it's very much there—the unadulterated, baseless animosity creeping up their legs. when they walk into the training room on their first day, Dazai is waiting for them while leaning against the wall. they see it in his eye as he turns his head to look at them. it's a hollow stare, a bottomless pit of strife, reaching out in echoes from the sobs of a child. his lips curl into a small smile. [Name] feels the hairs on their nape bristling in alarm, like there's a bigger threat looming nearby, but all they can see is Dazai.

and Dazai, with that look in his eyes and that simper on his lips, is not a threat at all.

when he's standing so close to them, when he isn't hiding in the sunlight, he feels much smaller. it's almost as if they could see his hands shaking. it's almost as if they could see the tears wanting to overflow. there's a stirring in their stomach where pain bubbles, purely and innocently. Dazai is so, so far away.

he pushes himself off the wall and stands across from [Name]. stepping closer, he finds it unusual to not see their muscles tense in alarm. then he remembers the usual hasn't been established yet. "those scars…" his sentence dies down as he tastes the words. they feel familiar on his tongue, so he finds a way to flip them upside down. "do you want to die, [Name]?" his eye casts down to their uncovered arms. they look the same.

"i'm sorry?"

a sigh tumbles from his lips. "your scars, those are self-inflicted."

"ah." instinctively, [Name]'s fingers reach up to touch their neck. Dazai doesn't look at them. "there was a time, back in the labs. i've grown out of it." they speak nonchalantly, shrugging their shoulders and acting like craving death was nothing more than a short phase. a little something they tried for fun and stopped once they got bored of it—it doesn't follow them, it doesn't cling to them, it has left them alone because they don't want to die anymore.

"why?"

"what do you mean?"

"why did you want to die?"

he sees how [Name] stops to give it some thought. their eyes flicker down and to the side briefly, then return to him, alive. "i'm not sure. it was just easy."

"those tests they ran on you," he prompts.

"yeah." they blink and something flashes in their eyes. it's unnoticeable, but Dazai can see it clearly. he considers briefly, just briefly, keeping his mouth shut. [Name] continues with an explanation that only makes sense to normal people like themself and Dazai, "living things became trivial."

"and by consequence, so did you."

[Name] nods. it's odd, they think, how easily he understands without them explaining a jumbled mess of forgotten thoughts. maybe it isn't that odd, especially considering he's read their files already. "do you want to die, Dazai-san?" but they see him as soon as their question slips from their tongue.

"yes."

in a quick answer with no hesitation, [Name] sees the innocent boy on the verge of tears. he's gritting his teeth and covering his ears with trembling hands. [Name] grimaces, because the closer they try to step, the smaller he becomes. so scared, so lonely, so vulnerable. they feel sorry for him. they pity him. he feels just like another little sibling from the orphanage, one [Name] could easily hold until his breathing settles down again. but as soon as they blink, he fades away, melting into the shadows where they can't reach. in his stead, they meet Dazai's hollow stare.

[Name]'s fingers twitch on instinct. "can i ask why?" they think, ignoring the bristling hairs on the back of their nape, that Dazai has been standing alone and alienated for far too long.

"some may call me a fool," he answers, voice light and airy, shrugging it off like it's something he's heard a billion times before. but then [Name] feels it again, when he looks them right in the eye, the unnerving animosity trying to drag them down. it's as if he's looking at someone else—looking at words he's heard from the same voice, but not quite the same person. "others," he emphasizes, "may call me a coward."

[Name] recoils. they take a step backwards. that statement—that complaint—was not directed at them, [Name] understands, but it was directly for them.

Dazai lets a chuckle drift into the silence. he recognizes he shouldn't be speaking anymore. he recedes and takes his contempt off [Name] with him. "is that enough of an answer for you?"

"i think… it's your choice." ([Name] tries—wants—to understand.) "whether you want to tell me or not."

they don't bite. "you're a lot more agreeable," Dazai hums. in a world in which he hasn't stolen anything from them, [Name] has no reason to bite back. if he hadn't been so childish, maybe they could have held a conversation like this in the right story.

[Name] contemplates asking for clarification, but they keep their mouth shut as Dazai steps closer. he feels small again. he's a kid. he's nothing but a kid, all over again.

with weightless steps, he stands a few feet away from [Name]. "attack me with all you've got."

Dazai can recite this scene from memory. [Name] hesitates, argues, and he makes sure they understand where their loyalties should lie from the get-go. he's long decided to teach them the same lessons in a different way. their attack is as predictable as the first time; he wastes not a single second striking his leg against their ribcage. as [Name] bounces off the wall, Dazai sighs to himself.

"lesson number one," his voice echoes through the training room, "don't rely on your ability alone." he watches unblinking while [Name] struggles to pick themself up from the floor. "you're gonna need a lot of martial arts training."

[Name] can barely register any of his words when their mouth is overflowing with blood.

Dazai gives them time to stand back up on their feet. quietly, he turns towards the door. "that's all for today." [Name]'s blurry eyes follow him as he begins heading out. his back is so, so small. "the closest infirmary is on the ground floor. same time tomorrow, yeah?" he stops at the door, glancing over his shoulder.

finding support on the wall, [Name] clutches the forming bruise on their side, stumbling in an attempt to stay balanced. their head spins, but they answer, "…yeah, okay…" despite the sickening taste of blood on their tongue.

"i'll use a gun, so be ready."

"…gotcha."

[Name] listens to their own choked breathing and takes a moment to properly stabilize themself. Dazai hears an echo in his brain, voices from the dead he has never heard, but he nonetheless remembers. it haunts him, whether he wants them to or not, because wisdom only has worth when a writer is dead. he takes it upon himself to not stress [Name] out too much. promptly, he exits the training room, leaving the door wide open for [Name] to follow once they gather their bearings again.

they think, while heading for the door, that Dazai is simply a lonely kid drowning in future regrets.

Dazai knows better than anyone—or rather, he's the only who knows—that he cannot interfere where he isn't allowed. the best example of this is [Name]'s natural gravitation towards Chuuya. he lets the years pass, working for things to play out the exact same way, changing the course only where it's needed for his plan. while he's busy throwing a quiet tantrum in a former assassin's apartment, he leaves [Name] in Chuuya's hands.

Nakahara Chuuya has read [Name]'s files—only the most relevant ones, because it would take him a lifetime to even scan through everything that has been documented since the moment of their birth. empathy simmers in his chest in the face of another humane monster built from experiments.

that which resembles a human. resembling humans, all of them, dancing on a chessboard in someone else's pocket.

however smart Mori may be, however much respect he may have for the boss, Chuuya believes leaving a kid with suicidal tendencies to a suicidal bastard is undeniably cruel. [Name] is nothing like Dazai, because they value life, because they don't regret being born, because they don't taunt death in an attempt to free themself. and yet despite knowing they are so, so different from the demon prodigy, there still is something. there is something, and Chuuya doesn't know what, but it's very much there. something in their eyes, something very deep in a parallel mirror; something on the scar on their neck and something in their voice.

something, whatever it is, making [Name] feel horribly similar to Dazai.

Chuuya has seen his friends die time and time again. that's just the way the mafia works. he fears he's going to see [Name] end up being another corpse in a pile of distant memories.

after a strenuous day of training, he offers them a cigarette. the more they take from him, the less they'll follow in Dazai's footsteps—he hopes, at least, because Dazai has a plan. Chuuya doesn't know what it is or why he's so determined to see it come to fruition, but he does know no one is safe. so he leans against the wall, taking another drag, listening as [Name] explains their experience in the research facility. out of curiosity, out of concern.

if there's an input, there's an output.

[Name] shakes ashes off their cigarette. they finish their retelling with a closing thought of, "at some point, the concept of life became trivial, as Dazai-san put it." it sounds natural and it rolls off their tongue with the tone of an older sibling. Chuuya argues that it sounds dissonant; that agreeing with Dazai shouldn't be a willing choice. "i could kill anyone and anything, but i couldn't kill myself. they wouldn't let me."

he sighs heavily, "that explains why you feel so much like that lousy suicidal bastard."

with the way [Name] turns to blink owlishly at him, he'd think he's offended them. their brows furrow in thought for a moment, before they chuckle sardonically. "i think Dazai-san's in a league of his own." as a pained afterthought, they add, "sadly." they cast their gaze down to their shoes, a grimace twisting their face. pity burns on their tongue. "there really isn't anyone out there to feel so much like him."

"hopefully," Chuuya snarls, rolling his eyes, "there really shouldn't be."

"do you hate him that much, Chuuya-san? i know he's a lot to handle, but he's just throwing a tantrum." the laughter that falls from their lips is ironic. they don't mean it. they're at a loss. the cigarette between their fingers slips and bounces off their shoes.

Chuuya clicks his tongue. "he's just a cunning bastard with a plan to fuck everyone over." he flicks his own cigarette off to the side to emphasize his words.

[Name] lets his snarky remark swim into their ears, processing each sound with careful consideration. they stare silently at the floor as they take into account everything the mafia has shown them for the past two years. they're well aware Dazai is always slithering around, a heavy presence looming over everyone's shoulders to make sure everything goes according to plan. they know he's doing something, whatever it might be, and it's very important. that's why he's been gone for over a week already. from where [Name] stands, it simply seems capricious.

"i think he's a little kid," they speak up with a hint of hesitation. a knot in their throat tries to keep them from spitting words a parallel story would set them on fire for. they clear their throat, turning to find Chuuya's eyes. "doesn't he feel like a neglected toddler to you?"

immediately, Chuuya throws his head back and cackles from the core of his chest. he pats [Name]'s shoulder harshly, shaking them in a fit of pure amusement. "ha! that's your best joke so far." he pretends to wipe a tear off his eye. the moment his laughter fades away, a peeved frown pulls his brows down. "that shitty asshole's a demon that's been alive for centuries. i wouldn't waste pity on him." as if it were an unimportant discussion about ants on the ground, Chuuya shrugs his shoulders. he's done with his smoke break and he cares little about sympathy for malicious intelligence.

[Name] watches him head back into the Port Mafia building. the demonic crown Dazai wears weighs on him more and more as the years go by. centuries upon centuries of living in isolation should give a demon like him all the wisdom in the universe, and yet he's nothing but a child. even Chuuya is only a child with issues of his own. they all are. and when kids are scared, some cry, some bite back, and some simply cower in a corner while gritting their teeth.

with a sigh, [Name] crushes their struggling cigarette with the sole of their shoe. they follow after Chuuya once the fire has died.

it's strange, Dazai thinks, and it rattles him for a moment. he only has the memories of what will happen, but he's convinced he can still feel frail bones crushing under the pressure of his foot. the moment he sees [Name] in broad daylight, crouched over in an awfully familiar alleyway, he stops dead in his tracks. his fingers twitch. he almost wishes [Name] would try to hide away in the shadows. he doesn't have to even look past them to know there's a box with three puppies in it.

"what are you doing here, [Name]?"

[Name] cranes their neck back, finding Dazai's eye staring down at them with a blank gaze. "hello, Dazai-san," they greet him normally, because they don't know and they can't guess. they step to the side to let him see the three dying dogs, huddled together for warmth inside a humid box. Dazai blinks. these puppies don't just look frail, they look sick.

"what are you doing?"

[Name] turns back to the box. with one hand, they keep searching for a way to help these dying creatures; the other one offers a sense of comfort—or as much as they can—scratching their heads gently. "i found these guys abandoned here. i was thinking of getting 'em to the vet, they don't look too good." when [Name] removes their hand, one of the puppies stirs. it tries to call out in a faint cry. it barely has the strength to breathe.

"oh." Dazai hums in understanding. he doesn't like dogs. he doesn't care about what happens to these dogs. something is probably eating them from the inside out and he knows for a fact they will not survive a ride to the vet. they're on the verge of death already; [Name], this time, is too late. "yeah, that's a good idea." he doesn't care about what happens to these dogs or to [Name] themself, but he lets them do whatever they want. it is not a dare. it is not a challenge. it's simply him taking a step back.

"do you know of any vets nearby? i can't find anything on my phone."

"…i don't really like dogs so i don't know anything." he lies. he does know. he cannot step back more than this.

it's fleeting, but [Name] feels that same baseless animosity trying to drown them. "i see." they pretend it's fair. they don't pry. with a grimace, they turn again to look at Dazai. "do you think they'll make it? they might be a lost cause."

"you should try."

the longer they consider it, the more pity simmers in their chest. when they scan their eyes over the puppies one more time, they're agitated, struggling to breathe. "i'd rather not put 'em through that… i'll just let 'em pass peacefully." an orange glow surrounds their body as they use Mirror Mirage to steal the dogs' lives from them. painlessly, the three of them grow weaker until they ultimately die.

Dazai glares quietly. he watches with a hollow stare as [Name], with their eyes closed, claps their hands and says a short prayer to the lives they've taken.

"i'll find a place to bury them. excuse me, Dazai-san." picking the box up from the floor, [Name] bows their head to him. he trails his eyes after them while they disappear down the sidewalk.

Mori Ogai knew eventually Dazai would take his place. evil expects evil from others. when he finds [Name]'s hand around his throat, he chuckles. he figures this is exactly why Dazai wanted to take them from their orphanage and bring them into his arsenal. he's not given much choice and lets the children do with him as they see fit.

at age eighteen, Dazai Osamu becomes the Port Mafia's boss.

[Name] doesn't mind the changes in the mafia, especially considering they aided the new boss. there's a hefty weight of unbearable responsibility pressing down on their shoulders. they're aware Dazai isn't their problem, and neither do they feel the need to interfere. he is doing something—[Name] doesn't know what it is or why, but they hope he can accomplish it so he'll finally sit down and breathe. they know better than to meddle. but the duty of an older sibling compels them to at least check in on everyone around them.

(Chuuya isn't content. they've heard all of his complaints again and again over cigarettes and drinks. he says he doesn't blame them for helping Dazai out in taking Mori's head. they hardly believe him.)

Dazai calls them into his office. something feels off when they step inside, bowing as per usual, speaking politely like they did with Mori. he's leaning back on his chair and reading a book. the cover is worn, but they can make out the characters for war and crime. the look in his eye darkens considerably as he lets it flutter shut before dropping it in his trash bin.

he leans into his desk and towards [Name], an empty smile curling his lips. "i have a task for you, [Name]." he gathers documents scattered around, brushing off a paper airplane that falls off the edge. [Name] takes them from his hand with a nod. "i'd like some information on this orphanage."

"of course, boss."

they bow one more time to excuse themself. Dazai considers letting them go with their task, but curiosity gets the best of him. he can't keep his mouth shut. "say, [Name]," he starts. [Name] stands up straight, listening attentively. "have you ever heard about the theory of the two demons?"

[Name] blinks, brows rising. it doesn't ring a bell. "i haven't. what does it say?" Dazai knows it doesn't ring a bell.

"that to combat a great evil, you need an even greater evil." it's taken him years to understand what this theory entails. it's taken him memories that do not belong to him to wrap his head around nonsense such as this. the best experience comes first-hand. "say, for uprisings against the government, the government can suppress the people with forced disappearances, for example." he cannot pretend to laugh at this anymore.

"so it's bad against worse?"

"precisely." Dazai snaps his fingers. there's a childlike ring in his voice, like he's happy to finally hold a conversation with the [Name] he's known. "it cancels out. it reaches a point where evil is just the norm. a demon against another demon; do you get it?"

"i see. like… fighting fire with fire." they're close. "only a demon can kill a demon."

like saying long time no see to someone he's supposed to have never met. like stabbing his own leg for someone he knows doesn't have the choice to stray. like offering lies to someone who cursed him in a different story. like babbling words that are not his. "yeah, that's… that's a good analogy." like a corpse smiling back at him. (like animal blood staining his shoes.)

"where did you find this theory? it seems interesting."

Dazai glances at the trash bin only briefly. "that's not important." [Name] doesn't catch on. "i just thought you'd like to know about it."

"why's that?"

"so you don't resent me after i'm dead." he's always known they aren't anything like him.

[Name] lets an innocent chuckle slip, "i'd be surprised if you're actually mortal at all."

"now that's a very cursed thing to say, [Name]." he offers them a smile. it's the smile of a child, innocent and ignorant. it's heavy.

"my apologies, boss."

Nakajima Atsushi is a mellow boy. it doesn't take a genius to realize he wasn't as lucky as [Name] was when drawing straws in the orphanage lottery. he's been blessed with a powerful ability, but he's also been cursed to never tame it. Dazai seems to have been prepared for this inconvenience since the day he was born. [Name] considers that's probably exactly the case.

they analyze the collar Dazai has given them, before their eyes fall on Atsushi. he's mellow and he's scared. he sits quietly on the floor, hugging his knees close to his chest to make himself small, hiding his face in search for safety. [Name] crouches by him, wearing the same gentle simper they used for their youngest siblings.

"i'm sorry about this, Atsushi-kun," they speak softly, careful not to make unnecessary loud noises, "but Dazai-san said it's to keep your ability in check."

"i know. i understand. it's okay." he lifts his head up only slightly. he meets [Name]'s pitying eyes.

they frown. the theory of the two demons states that, in order to take down a great evil, one requires a greater evil; [Name] thinks this is what Dazai meant when introducing them to such a wicked theory. a sigh tumbles from their lips, "it's not okay, but it's necessary." it burns on their tongue, rotten words they should swallow.

they purse their lips and clasp the collar around Atsushi's neck. somehow, they wince harder than him.

Dazai Osamu has completed his plan.

he hits the ground, blood splattering and staining the ground a crimson red, because even in death, Dazai can't keep himself from being a nuisance. his body twitches as the last remnants of life slip away from him. it's unexpected—not that he managed to fulfill his own goals, but the way he chooses to celebrate. in the moment, [Name] thought their words were ironic. as they catch a glimpse through the corner of their eye, they think they spoke too much.

they freeze, shoulders taut. with wide eyes, they find Chuuya's glare across from them, seemingly just as perplexed. both turn towards the wall of windows; neither dare take a step closer to confirm their suspicions.

"…Chuuya-san," [Name] speaks up with a hesitant tone. Chuuya doesn't answer. "Chuuya-san, was…" their voice trails off, unsure of what to say in the face of suicide. "Chuuya-san, was that Dazai-san?" by the time they manage a coherent sentence, Chuuya is no longer by their side.

[Name] watches from up high in an empty hallway. from this height, Dazai's bleeding body is nothing more than an ant out of line. they sigh heavily, eyes closed. they clap their hands together and say a short prayer for the life that now sleeps forever in solitude.

—あごす (agosu) • 2023

#theory of the two demons #bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #nakajima atsushi #mori ougai #bsd beast #bungou stray dogs beast

77 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 2 years

Text

how many | jjk | 5

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you’re just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you’re also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you’ve taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 4.7k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

A/N: no smut in this one;;;;;;

◆ the one he drew for you ◆

Thank god for midterm week. For an art major like yourself, the usual midterm exams are replaced with art projects that you don’t really need to worry about. This actually allows you to squeeze in more tattoo appointments than usual throughout the week.

While you’re busy in the studio, your super hot smartypants boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, is busy studying for all of his comp sci exams that you know he’ll ace. The timing is a little too convenient, but you’re just happy you don’t have to make up any excuses for why you’re too busy to hang out with him this week.

It’s not that you don’t want to spend time with your new boyfriend—in fact, for the past 120 hours, you’ve been yearning for his smile, his touch. You just need to focus and power through all of your appointments now so that you can make time for him this weekend. Because this is the weekend where Jungkook learns that you and his favorite tattoo artist are the same person.

You’ve even been dropping subtle hints throughout the week to see if he can put two and two together.

Y/N🍑 [MON 11:13PM] “so i may or may not be planning a surprise😈”

Jungkook🦆 [11:14PM] “It’s not gonna be a surprise if you give me a heads up, silly”

Y/N🍑 [11:14PM] “i could give you a million hints and youd still be surprised”

Jungkook🦆 [11:14PM] “👁👄👁”

Jungkook🦆 [11:15PM] “What are you up to?”

Y/N🍑 [11:16PM] “nothing!👼”

During class on Tuesday, he bribes you with coffee in exchange for more information about this “surprise.” He knows you can’t say no to caffeine in the morning.

Snatching the hot cup of coffee out of his hand, you offer him a single hint. “Try searching through the lizard tag on Instagram.”

“You’re such a dork for lizards, you know that?” He pulls his phone out and scrolls through the many charming reptiles on social media. He swipes past all the chameleons and leopard geckos until his thumb pauses at the sight of a happy little bearded dragon. “Okay, I’ll admit that one’s really fucking adorable.”

You nod and point out a baby albino alligator. “This one’s cute too, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles. “Wait, is this part of your evil plan to get me to like lizards? Are you trying to start a lizard family with me?”

“No, no, I promise I’m not surprising you with a new lizard friend,” you assure him. As much as you adore lizards, you shudder at the thought of feeding them live insects.

“Then why are we looking at all these little guys?” Based on his bright smile, he’s clearly not against your lizard agenda.

“Remember when I mentioned the lizard tattoo?” you ask.

“The one you supposedly had an appointment for on the day we went to the duck pond?” Jungkook tilts his head. Then he furrows his brow. “I thought you were just fucking with me. Did you actually get it?”

You shake your head with the smuggest smile. “No, but it’s probably the biggest hint you’re going to get.”

The albino gator you pointed out earlier was the exact photo you used as a reference for that tattoo design—the one you tattooed onto a man’s calf shortly after your first kiss with Jeon Jungkook. You posted the final product on @snowsleeve’s IG just a few days ago, so there’s a good chance the boy has already seen it.

Unfortunately, Jungkook doesn’t quite make the connection.

“Then… Are you planning on getting it?” He taps the back of your hand holding the coffee cup. Even the smallest amount of physical contact between you and him is enough to give you butterflies. “Because a tiny lizard would look cute on you.”

If you weren’t in the middle of class, you’d hop out of your seat and into his lap. Instead, you lean in closer toward his side of the table and settle for something flirty.

“I’m sure you’d look cute on me, too, Jeon.”

On Wednesday, Jungkook takes a break from studying to work on the next art project assigned by your professor. The two of you claim an empty studio in the art building and get to work.

For the assignment, your professor keeps it simple with few directions. All you need to do is pick an artist with a unique style and replicate that style in a drawing of “whatever your heart desires.” To put in the least amount of effort into this project, you go with the artist you know best—snowsleeve.

When you turn to Jungkook, he’s doing what appears to be intense research.

“Should I go with Murakami or Naoko Takeuchi?” he asks. You could easily see him replicating the work of Murakami, known for his bright and bold pops of color. You haven’t seen Jungkook use much color in his art so far, but you know he’d at least have fun with it.

“You can’t go wrong with Murakami,” you shrug. “I don’t know who Naoko Takeuchi is, though.”

Jungkook holds out his phone with Sailor Moon’s squad gracing the screen. “Oh, she’s one of the lesser known manga artists out there. Guess that’s why you’ve never heard of her.”

“Fucking smartass.” Your glare lasts about three seconds before you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss. You’ve been deprived of that hot sensation against his lips for far too long, and the taste is divine. “But now that you mention it, I’m actually curious to see what you can create in the iconic Sailor Moon style.”

“Okay, that settles it. I know exactly what I’m going to draw.” The boy begins sketching an outline on his canvas with the most enthusiasm you’ve seen from him when it comes to schoolwork. He may not always show it, but Jungkook’s passion for art runs deep. And his desire to create isn’t all that different from your own. You just watch him in awe until you remember you have your own piece to work on.

The second the tip of your pencil hits your canvas, Jungkook looks over, curious about what you might be drawing.

“I’m going with body art that our good friend snowsleeve would design,” you say before he can even ask. You outline a masculine torso, strategically twisted and posed in a way to hide body parts that would otherwise need to be censored. You’re going to cover every inch of that torso in ink that would look so hot on a certain male friend of yours.

“Isn’t your style already pretty similar to hers?” He continues drawing, occasionally glancing back at panels from the Sailor Moon manga. “That wolf you drew on my hand the other day was definitely giving me snowsleeve vibes.”

“This project shouldn’t be too hard then,” you hum. At the very least, Jungkook isn’t oblivious to the similarities between the art you’ve shown him and snowsleeve’s tattoos. “The faster I finish this, the more time I can spend on preparing that surprise for you.”

“Oh? The surprise is something you need to prepare?” The tip of Jungkook’s pencil makes a hard stop against his canvas. You can see the wheels turning in his head. “Are you sure you aren’t setting up a huge lizard terrarium in my apartment?”

You burst out laughing. “I’m sure.”

“The lizard thing is throwing me off,” the boy groans, tossing his head back. The naughty side of you sees this vulnerable state as an invitation to climb on top of him and relieve some of his frustration. But you know Jungkook needs to finish this project today so that he can focus on the rest of his exams for the week. As much as it pains you, you have to control yourself. Thankfully, art is the perfect distraction.

When you’re satisfied with your snowsleeve-inspired piece, you lean back as Jungkook leans over you to check it out.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think snowsleeve drew this herself.” His eyes wander across the torso, from the playful fox rolling in grass to the dancing forest fairy to a familiar wolf wagging its tail like a good boy. With its long snout, the wolf nudges a carrot toward its bunny friend as a peace offering. Among the rest of the art that fills your page, it’s the wolf and bunny image that really stands out.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you say, turning your attention to Jungkook’s Sailor Moon-inspired work in progress. The beautiful heroine has your cozy vibe, your cute fashion sense, your lizards, and your personal superpower—art. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re drawing me.”

“Oh, it’s definitely you, Y/N.” His face is all smiles and crinkles as he reaches over to pinch your cheek.

“No wonder why you were so passionate about it,” you tease. You look at the heroine again. He’s right. It’s definitely you. She radiates warmth and good vibes with her goofy grin and the fun little lizard drawings brought to life by her powers. It seems the boy will never let the lizard thing go, but you love that this is how he sees you.

Jungkook nods. “I’ve realized art is a lot more enjoyable when I’m creating it with someone else in mind.”

You couldn’t agree more. The pure happiness that reflects in the eyes of your clients after their appointment is what makes it all worth it for you as a tattoo artist. Because you’ve created something personal that they can always look back on and feel some type of way about.

“That’s a good mindset for a future tattoo artist.” Your finger runs along the outline of every tattoo on his hand. He watches patiently and flips his palm up as soon as you’ve traced them all. He’s clearly asking for more of your touch. You quickly draw an imaginary smiley face on his palm before slipping his pen back into his grip. The two of you can save the handholding for this weekend.

Jungkook pouts, giving you a chance to reconsider the physical contact before continuing on with the project. Shortly after, he pokes his head up from the canvas with a sudden request. “By the way, can you give me another hint about that surprise?”

You tap the torso covered in snowsleeve’s art. “This is a pretty big clue.”

“I like my theory of you getting a tattoo,” he says with a thoughtful gaze. “But it couldn’t be that simple, could it?”

Thursday isn’t as exciting as Wednesday because you don’t have the luxury of seeing your boyfriend in person. Instead, you’re stuck in your studio from sunrise to sundown while Jungkook crams for his final and most important midterm.

After your last appointment of the night, a mischievous idea comes to mind so you decide to stick around a bit longer. First your sweater comes off, followed by your strappy bralette. You lay the client chair horizontally and hop onto it.

With one hand just barely covering both your nipples and the other holding your phone up, you snap a series of not-so-innocent photos of your bare skin against the black leather. The best pic is one where your expression is more sultry than angelic, and there’s also enough shit in the background to serve as a clue to your whereabouts.

Along with the faux nude, you send Jungkook a few messages. Hopefully, you won’t be too big of a distraction from his studies.

Y/N🍑 [8:56PM] “this is the last hint im giving you, jeon👼”

Jungkook🦆 [8:56PM] “Your boyfriend is very lucky”

Jungkook🦆 [8:56PM] “omw”

Jungkook🦆 [8:58PM] “Wait”

Jungkook🦆 [8:59PM] “Is that a tattoo place?”

Jungkook🦆 [8:59PM] “You’re actually getting one huh”

Jungkook🦆 [9:00PM] “Show me?🥺”

Y/N🍑 [9:01PM] “dont you have an exam to study for?”

Jungkook🦆 [9:02PM] “Y/N please I can’t focus on studying after seeing you like that”

Y/N🍑 [9:05PM] “good luck on your exam!👼💖💖💖”

Thankfully, your naughty photo only costs Jungkook two points on Friday’s exam, and he still manages to score the highest among his peers. To celebrate the end of a busy midterm week, you send him an official invitation to the unofficial Bring Your Boyfriend to Work Day at your studio on Saturday—the same day as his appointment with snowsleeve.

“Is Bring Your Boyfriend To Work Day a real thing?” Jungkook shoots you a skeptical look as the two of you stroll down the streets of the art district. He’s been cautious all morning. Probably due to the big surprise you won’t shut up about.

“We’re making it a real thing,” you say. “Aren’t you curious about the work I do outside of school?”

“I thought you said people just commission you for your art?”

“...Yeah.” Your voice has that but-there’s-more-to-the-story tone.

“Y/N, you’re killing me.” The boy places two hands on your shoulders and gives you a little shake in mild frustration. Eventually, though, his arms fall into a warm embrace around your waist.

On instinct, you spin around to face him. He still has dark circles from all those late nights of studying, but that doesn’t make him any less cute. With a big fat smile, you hook your arm around his and say, “The surprise will be worth it. I promise.”

“I know it will.” Jungkook lets out a dramatic sigh as you drag him along and into your studio.

It’s a cloudy Saturday morning. The studio is quite dark, but you make the executive decision to keep the cream curtains closed and the lights off for dramatic effect. But despite all the tattoo equipment staring him in the face as soon as he walks in, your boyfriend doesn’t look half as surprised as you’d anticipated. Either he’s known all along, or he’s just pretending to know.

With your arm still around his, you give him a rambling tour of the small space. “Here’s my art wall, this is fancy equipment that no one cares about, that’s the futon for when I need a nap, the back wall has some cute pictures… oh, and I have an espresso station set up in that corner. I’m learning how to make latte art.”

“Latte art makes a little too much sense for an artist who thrives on caffeine.” Jungkook grins. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that this is your second home. Your boyfriend takes the lead and sits you down in a familiar leather chair. He shamelessly stares at you through the camera lens formed by his thumbs and index fingers. “And this is the infamous chair you took that naughty photo in?”

“Maybe.” You glance up at him with the same inviting eyes from that photo. You rarely sit in the client’s seat, and the shift in power is painfully obvious. In this studio, you’re usually the one in control, the one leaving your mark on someone else’s skin. But now, Jungkook stands over you with nowhere to hide. You’ve never felt so vulnerable in your own studio. And if he wanted to, he could really mess you up.

He presses his weight against the armrests and leans himself over your body. His lips find yours and smother them with an endless wave of fervor and affection. For a long while, you forget the entire point of the outing. Nothing else matters aside from this intimacy between you and the boy you adore. You feel like you’re in a dream, the kind you never want to wake up from.

Jungkook eventually pulls back to let you breathe but holds your gaze with a subtle smirk. “I think it’s almost time for my appointment, Miss Snowsleeve.”

You study his face quietly for just a moment. There’s not a shadow of doubt to be found. His confidence is so fucking attractive.

“How long have you known?” you ask.

“In my mind, it wasn’t confirmed until today, but I’ve been considering the possibility since that night at the pool.” The boy watches as you get up to finally turn the lights on. On your way back around, you gesture for him to follow you to the back. “Did you know you and snowsleeve have the same exact texting style? Exclusively lowercase.”

“That was the dead giveaway for you?” You encourage him to take a look at the collection of photos hanging on the back wall.

“It couldn’t have possibly been the glaring similarities in your art,” Jungkook says with sarcasm. He examines the polaroids of your favorite tattoos on some of your favorite people—fellow artists like Amber and Zico, celebrities like Park Jimin and Min Yoongi, and regulars who’ve supported you since the beginning. Even Seokjin has a place on your wall with a serpentine ankle tattoo that he rarely shows off outside of your apartment. Your boyfriend points to the pic of you and Amber and adds, “Couldn’t have been your extensive knowledge of local tattoo artists, either.”

“Definitely not,” you play along.

“And the more I thought about it, I realized it wasn’t a coincidence that the snowsleeve stalked my IG and liked one of my posts on that first day of art class.”

“Hey, first of all, I wasn’t IG stalking you.” You were totally IG stalking him, and both of you know it. “And second, I guess your attention to detail isn’t that bad after all.”

“It’s kind of hard not to notice the quirky little things about you.” Jungkook’s eyes pan from you, to the wall of polaroids, and to the art you’ve poured your heart and soul into. “Is there a reason why you choose to keep this all a secret?”

You nod. It was a conscious decision to keep your art detached from your name and face. Sure, it’d become less and less of a secret as your list of clients grew, but you just wanted to prove something to yourself.

“I’ve relied on my art for most of my life. It’s always been my ice breaker, my security blanket, my escape, and it’s become the only thing I’m known for.”

You think about how in every class and every friend group, you were labeled “the quiet one who was good at art.” Everyone would make small talk with you about art galleries, awards you’ve won for your art, and Pablo freaking Picasso. Your 9th grade math teacher even tasked you with decorating her classroom in geometric art. No one ever talked to you about your favorite reptiles or your love of pineapple pizza. Because what else did anyone know about you aside from art?

“I only know you as the number one lizard enthusiast in the world,” Jungkook jokes. His down-to-earth smile is both contagious and comforting. “I get where you’re coming from, though.”

“It’s not all that different from you and your two Instagram accounts. One is for here,” you say, poking the charming dimple on his cheek. “And the other is for here.” You interlace your fingers with his tattooed ones and hold his drawing hand up. You aren’t the only one who wishes to separate themself from their art—perhaps for opposite reasons.

You want to be seen as more than just your art, just as Jungkook wants to be seen as more than his pretty face.

“Yeah,” he says softly as he threads his free hand through his hair. “By the way, I’m sorry I spoiled the big reveal.”

You shake your head. “In all honesty, I preferred you to figure it out on your own.” In an instant, your grin goes from angelic to devilish. “And besides, I have one more surprise for you.”

“Why are you smiling like that? Should I be scared?” The boy spins around and frantically checks every corner of the studio. He searches high for hidden cameras, low for booby traps, and all around for possible lizard friends. You can’t help but laugh. You’re dating a complete goofball.

“Relax, it’s behind the espresso machine.” You pull him over toward the nutty aroma of roasted coffee beans. With a straight face, you add, “Try to be quiet, or else it’ll lash out at you.”

Jungkook does a good job of staying silent, although his wide-eyed expression speaks volumes. If you had to guess, he’s probably thinking something along the lines of, “I fucking knew it. It’s a fucking snake. This is what I get for dating that adorable reptile-loving dork.”

“I’m just fucking with you, Jeon.” Despite your evil cackle, the boy lets out a sigh of relief. “It’s not something nearly as exciting as a bearded dragon.”

“What is it then?” He tries to peek over your shoulder, but the object in question is already tucked away in your hands behind your back.

You gesture for his hand, and never once has he hesitated to give it to you. After placing the small metal object in his palm, you fold his fingers around it. “Take a look.”

Jungkook unfolds his fingers and finds a shiny key.

“You’re giving me full studio access?” He definitely wasn’t expecting this one.

“You can come in anytime to practice or borrow equipment or—”

“Or make myself a vanilla latte?”

“Exactly.” You plop yourself back into the leather chair and catch the boy by his wrist. He stumbles forward with the momentum and nearly falls on top of you. “You can even do the honors of giving snowsleeve her second tattoo.”

You flex your fingers, drawing attention to the outer edge of your hand. If you want to start small, a hand tattoo sounds appropriate. And besides, you find all of Jungkook’s tiny hand tattoos so dang charming, and that may or may not be what’s inspired you. When clients ask you about it, you can tell them the story.

“I know you’re in high demand, but is there any chance I can get an appointment with you today?” you ask innocently, ignoring the fact that you’re supposed to be having a consultation about Jungkook’s next tattoo. But that can wait a little longer.

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckles at your aggressive puppy eyes. If you could be an emoji, you’d be an angry one with puppy dog eyes and hearts. “But I suppose I can squeeze you in right now since you’re so fucking cute.”

You use this opportunity to give Jungkook a step-by-step tutorial on a proper tattoo setup. You show him your signature plastic wrapping technique, give him a rundown of your favorite machines, and share everything else with him that’s become second nature to you.

“So are we actually doing this?” he asks after a few practice doodles on fake skin with your favorite pen for lining. His lines are smooth, his hand is steady, and the depth looks about right.

“I’m in if you are.” You sit curled up in the leather chair, doing your best to mask the nerves building up inside your chest. The last thing you want is for your own uneasiness to rub off on a boy who has yet to tattoo an actual human being. “We can do something small and simple, just so you can get the feel of digging into real skin.”

“Bet.” Jungkook gives you a confident nod. “Any special requests?”

You point to the side of your hand, just below your pinky. “Something cute that you can freehand? Like a bunny fairy?”

“The biggest surprise of the day is that you don’t want a lizard.” He rolls in on your stool, takes your hand, and draws out exactly what you ask for. And it’s super wholesome. He leans back to get a glimpse of your reaction. “Good?”

“The best.” You can’t take your eyes off the floppy ears, the delicate wings, and the cute little heart nose. The love you feel for the boy and his art is starting to eat away at your nerves. You better keep yourself in check. Otherwise, you might do something too bold or reckless. Because that’s how safe you feel when you’re with Jungkook.

After making the switch from marker to machine, a few butterflies come fluttering back, but you’d like to believe you’ve still got a good poker face. In one hand, he wields the buzzing machine that seems a whole lot more intimidating when you aren’t the one gripping it. He slides his other hand beneath yours, against the plastic-wrapped armrest. Maybe he won’t feel the jitters vibrating through your body.

His gloved hand feels more like a fuzzy blanket keeping you warm on a gloomy rainy day. A boyfriend could say a lot of things to put his partner at ease in this situation. He might say, “It’s okay,” or “Let me know if the pain gets to be too much,” or even, “You don’t have to force yourself. I’d love you with or without this tattoo.”

Jungkook isn’t that boyfriend, though. He doesn’t need to speak into existence what you already know. He has his own way of doing things.

“Do you remember that first day in art class? When I drew that other bunny for you?” He holds your gaze for a moment. The buzzing fades into the background, and you feel the muscles in your hand loosening up. “I held your hand just like this.”

Of course you remember. No boy has ever made you feel so comforted by a single touch. That day, you were so happy. And for the first time in a while, you felt excited for the days to come. It marked the beginning of something precious with no end in sight.

You nod, prompting him to continue on with his storytime. He gives you one last squeeze before retracting his hand so that his canvas is resting on a flat surface.

“I still think about that day a lot, you know.” His voice is soft, yet everything comes out so clear above the humming. How can a boy like him be so sweet? It still blows your mind that you had this bad boy image of him when he first entered the classroom that day.

“Me too.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’re smiling. “Little did I know, that bad boy with the tattoos would turn out to be the biggest dork and sweetheart ever.”

“FYI, you’re the only person who’s allowed to call me a sweetheart.” The face he makes at you is a mix of a pout and him trying not to smile. Whatever it is, it serves as the perfect distraction for the needle hovering above your hand.

The first needle contact is more of a graze against your skin. He glances up for your reaction. You mouth, “A little deeper,” and he makes the adjustment several times. You don’t mind that he’s slowly easing both of you into it. He could spend a week chipping away at this simple tattoo, and you’d still love him.

When he finds the sweet spot in your skin, you stay quiet to let him focus. You want to praise him for how crisp and clean his lines are, and how pretty the bunny is turning out, but you bite your tongue and save it for the end.

“Anything else I should add in?” Once he's gone over every line, he sets the machine down and lets you admire the art he’s left on you. It’s tiny, adorable, and so so special to you. You don’t need anything else.

“It’s perfect.” You hop out of the seat and stretch, admiring your beautiful new ink in the studio lights. You’re glowing. From the stool, Jungkook lets out a healthy sigh, both exhausted and relieved to know his first attempt went as well as it did. You lean over, lift his chin, and steal a kiss. “Thank you, Jungkook,” you whisper into his mouth.

He kisses you again and licks his lips.

“So, are we still having my consultation?” His eyes wander across your body, from the tattoo he gave you to wherever that other tattoo might be hiding. Something tells you he wouldn’t be against rescheduling the consultation. “If not, you can come over and play with the cat.”

#bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts bad boy au #jungkook tattoo #jungkook #bts

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luveline · 1 year

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I think I might be technically evil for sending you three requests in one day when you’re probably overloaded with everyone else’s too… but if I may be evil for a moment… could you do something where shy!reader has a sleepover with Jonathan or something and she does her nightly routine and she does it for him too?? Like I want to tie his hair up in a lil ponytail and sweep the baby ones back with a fluffy headband and do a little skincare routine on him <3 I’m giving you so so so many kisses my love <3

technically a gorgeous sunbeam whom I adore maybe <3 shy!fem!reader teaching Jonathan the steps to her skincare routine ♥︎

If you were to describe Jonathan in one word, it would be calm. The kind of calm he's worked hard for. When his home can be anything but and his past rife with noise, Jon has carved a little slice of quiet sanctuary. You love sharing it with him.

The closer you've grown, the less you worry about disrupting said sanctuary. The first few times you'd slept over you followed his motions, washing your face with his minty bar soap, changing when he changed, watching movies until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

But a girl can't live like that every weekend. It's bad for your skin, no matter how much you like him.

So you'd introduced small parts of your routine on a trial basis. Jonathan, eternal sweetheart, loverboy extraordinaire, hadn't minded one bit. In fact, he'd been curious.

He stands in the doorway of the bathroom with a charmed smile on his face. You blink through suds and catch his stare, surprised he's put down his book.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Just face soap," you say, turning on the faucet again to cup a handful of water and wash away the last of the suds. You dry your eyes quickly with a small face towel. "Sorry, was I being super loud?"

"No," he says, hand on his elbow.

"Oh," you say, and you're timid yourself, so you know the look on his face rather well. "What do you want, baby?"

Jonathan sits down on the wooden box by the door that serves as their laundry basket. He's had his hair cut recently, and the shorter strands against his forehead beg for some handling. You nibble your lip, wondering if it's worth the embarrassment. Jonathan has had you more vulnerable than this, what's the worst that could happen?

You raise your hand to his hair, stroking it gently from his head to see his eyebrows clearly.

"I could do it with you?" he asks. "Your routine."

"My routine? It's not so complicated, Jon, just moisturiser and…" You cross your arms behind your back. "You want to do it with me?"

"Yeah. Is that weird?"

"No," you say. It's so, so sweet. "Not weird."

You take your headband off and slip it over his head. His eyes close in total trust, and you try to deserve it, using your gentlest touch. Once it's around his neck you pull it back up, easing his short hair away from his face.

"I forgot what your forehead looked like," you say.

He gazes up at you adoringly.

You slide the hair tie from your wrist and tilt your head in question. He smiles like he's somewhere else, and that'll have to do. He gets distracted sometimes, and you don't know if it's the truth but whenever you ask what he's thinking about he always says, "You." Best to not ask, and avoid the hot flush.

You rake your fingers through his hair to get the longer pieces beside his neck and make the world's smallest pony tail at the nape.

"Pretty," you say gently. You flick his ponytail. "If you wash your face, we'll do the rest together."

Jonathan stands up and skirts around you to the sink, his fingers touching the tiniest slice of your exposed midriff for a millisecond more than what could be accidental. You know he didn't do it to make you self-conscious, but you pull your pyjamas a little higher up your hips.

He goes to use his soap. You hand him yours before he can start, and he makes quick work of washing his face. You splash your face to make it tacky again and open your palm, dipping it toward him so he does the same.

"Toner. I think I'm supposed to use a cotton round, but I just put it in my palm."

"It's purple," he says, startled.

"The bottle," you say with a delighted laugh. "It's clear, swears. I think it's mostly water and aloe vera. It made my nose pores smaller."

"Did it?" he asks.

You shrink. "It didn't?"

"No, I mean. I never noticed them changing size." He laughs and shakes his hand. You tip a small well of toner into his hand and he waits for you to do the same for yourself, copying your hand movements exactly.

"It's sticky." He wipes his hand in your bare arm.

"Thanks, jerk. Just wash it off!"

He tries to hide his smile and fails.

You pick up your smaller tube. "Moisturiser," you say.

He knows how to use it, so you don't bother explaining why you put it all over until he asks, "I get all greasy on my nose, do I…?"

"I'm not sure. I think, uh." You realise you're going to have to talk about something he doesn't know, and you never enjoy that. Correcting people feels like a nightmare — you're always worried they'll get annoyed or defensive, or that you'll come off as a know it all. But Jonathan doesn't do that, so you explain. "When you wash your face, you take all the oils off of your skin, and your skin reacts by making more of it. Sometimes it makes too much, and you end up greasy. If you moisturise it can help give some of the oil back and your skin doesn't feel the need to make too much." You pat a white smear across his cheek. "At least, that's what I think. I could be wrong."

"Sometimes I use some of that serum your mom got me, but I skipped it today because I ran out. Sorry, Jon, it's much shorter than I thought it was now we're doing it."

"I bet you're right," he says. His smile is gooey smooth. The entire time you'd been talking, he'd looked entranced. "What's next?"

"I don't mind. Five minutes doing something with you is better than without." He peels your headband off like he hasn't just said something insanely lovely. "How do I look?" he asks, his dampened baby hairs a wild curling mess around his face.

You tuck your arm into his. "You look perfect."

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers drabble #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers x fem!reader #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers fic #jonathan byers scenario #jonathan byers blurb #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #shy friday

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bitchinbarzal · 2 years

Text

Speak Now | L.Hughes

This has been in my drafts so long I needed it out

Everyone knew this was a bad idea, that Luke was crazy.

He shouldn’t be here. He knew that, but he was.

Victoria saw him before anyone else, slipping discreetly past mingling guests and tugging his suit sleeve in a way to get his attention before she snapped

“Don’t ruin this for her Hughes, this is her day”

Luke visibly gulped and replied “I don’t know what you’re talking about Vic, I’m just here for an old friend”

She scoffed “old friend, yeah ok”

He found his friends, his parents and brothers all grabbing drinks next to the bar.

“I really thought we’d be up there in those stupid blue suits on her wedding day, with you of course Hughesy because we are the best men in your life” Duke was clearly trying to make a joke but it failed, Mackie poked him in the ribs to warrant a stop.

He then gave Luke a face and said “Man, we’re sorry I know it’s not easy-“

“I’m fine, I’m just here to support you know. They did invite me” Luke added, gulping down the rest of his drink.

“Owen told me they fought about your invite” Kent added, giving Luke a soft smile in a way to make him feel better “She really fought to have you c my ome today Luke, she cared a lot you were here”

Luke shrugged “Yeah i guess, she’s close with my family you know? I mean my mom and dad are here, Quinn and Jack”

The group couldn’t help but roll their eyes at his blindness.

“You know that’s not why she did it Luke and you know it”

The wedding planner started filing people into the venue, to find a seat for the ceremony.

“Luke sit in the middle”

“What? No, why? I’m taller than you I gotta sit on the outside to I can move my leg”

“Because if you sit in the middle then we can stop you when you try to object”

He rolled his eyes “I’m not going to object to her marriage dipshit”

Ethan held his hands up “I’m just saying”

In the back room you were finishing getting ready when Victoria finally let it slip. She was adjusting your necklace, looked you in the eyes and caved

“He’s here” your eyes shot up to hers and your mouth dropped open.

“Really?” She nodded “Really.”

Nodding, you let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“We can walk away right now if you want to, I’ll hold your hand and if anyone tries to stop it you’ve got a hockey team to defend you from any evil mother in laws”

You laughed at her and shook your head “I’m okay, I’m glad he’s here”

She brushed your hair off your shoulder and beamed “All ready! You look gorgeous!”

“Thanks Vic, really you’ve been amazing”

“Anything for my bestie! Now let’s get you hitched!”

Luke didn’t get nervous, he was confident and collected. On the ice, off the ice. He was a machine.

Which is why it was becoming increasingly worrying to his friends that his right leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and he was sweating.

“Luke I swear to god if you do something stupid-“

“I’m not gonna do something stupid!”

“Your legs bouncing!” Ethan pointed to the obviously moving leg.

“Legs move Eddy! Just because you stay planted on the blue line doesn’t mean everyone’s don’t work!”

Ethan brushed off the comment, excusing him today only.

Their argument couldn’t continue as the music stated and everyone began to stand up looking at the entrance, he could feel his palms getting sweaty. He was trying desperately to wipe them on his trousers.

Owen, who was down at the front as a groomsman was eyeing Luke the entire time.

The doors opened and out came your flower girl, bridesmaids and your mother.

It was behind them you appeared and Luke felt like all of the air in his lungs had been knocked out.

You looked beautiful.

You’d always spoken about your wedding dress. From the day you met Luke you’d always known what you wanted and yet he never imagined you’d look this amazing.

The dress seemed to be the only thing in your plan.

“When I get married I want it outside in the country or in the woods! I love Michigan, it’s my whole life so I want to get married here somewhere probably and I’ll have the bridesmaids wearing navy blue you know? Show those Michigan roots! Whatcha think Lu?”

“As long as you’re at the end of the aisle baby, I’ll be there”

He had zoned out, fully focused on you and nothing else. The officiants words just drowned out.

“I think we should get married”

“Babe we’re freshmen, chill”

“You know what I mean! I want to marry you Luke and make our life in Jersey!”

“You’ll follow me to Jersey?”

“I’ll follow you anywhere - I trust you Lu”

Mark had been the only one to not say anything all morning to Luke. He’d given soft smiles and sympathetic glances but not a word.

If this was a twilight movie, Mark is team Luke.

That’s why when the officiant asked “Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace” Mark knocked Luke’s knee and hissed

“It’s now or never bro, you’re about to loose her”

Luke’s eyes moved between Mark and yourself. He looked at you while you looked at him, almost like you were expecting him to do something. Begging him to say something.

Luke stood up swiftly, kicking the bench infront of him in the process.

Ethan, Mackie and Duke all hung their heads while Kent, Mark and Owen all tried to stop the smiles appearing on their faces.

Jack and Quinn fist bumped in the back corner with a whisper of “That’s my boy”

The room was silent, Luke was suddenly hyper aware that all eyes were on him.

He was looking at you

He moved out into the aisle, still fully focused on you. That way he wouldn’t see his friends faces of horror or his mom hanging her head in shame.

“Um, I - Um I” he mumbled, his hands shaking. He could see the tears building in your room eyes as he fumbled with his words.

“I love you, y/n! I love you and I’m an idiot because right now it should be me up there and not really there right because this isn’t the wedding you want you want a wedding outside in the country and your bridesmaids to be wearing blue because, well just because” he took a shaky breathe “I feel like I’m rambling, am I rambling?”

It was a rhetorical question but Duke felt inclined to speak “Yeah man get to the point”

“What I’m trying to actually say is I love you y/n and you once told me you’d follow me anywhere because you trust me. I’m asking that you trust me enough to follow me out that door” he pointed to the building exit “I get it if you don’t want to but please please know it’s killing me inside to watch today happen while I just sit here” he finished, brushing off his sweaty hands on his trousers once more before turning on his heel towards the aforementioned door.

He took four steps before he heard a loud array of gasps, turning to find you right behind him with a soft smile “Where are we going?”

He smiled, relief filling his body while he grabbed your hand in his and yanked you out of the building into the street.

Once you were alone, leaving all of your guests in confusion you turned and pulled him into a kiss

“You have the worst timing Hughes”

“Tell me about it! I was scared you were gonna say no!”

Smiling softly, you leaned into his hold “My heart belongs to you, Lu I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to”

#umich imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine

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t0ast-ghost · 1 month

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OOOOHHH SOMEONES IN TROUBLE… Episode 21 (Court Martial):

- what… what is a commodore? What does this role mean?

- guys guys guys. Listen. He just got a little too silly

- McCoy doesn’t want Jim getting in ANOTHER bar fight

- Damn only Bones is on Kirk’s side here (and Spock obviously)

- The lawyer has a weirdly similar name to my own and it’s throwing me off

- Spock believing in Kirk so absolutely… goddamn

- WHY IS MCCOY SITTING LIKE THAT. WITH THOSE BOOTS

- I like that they finally brought to notice how awkward all the certificate and award readings are

- IT WAS FLASHING RED LIGHTS FOR THE PAST COUPLE MINUTES OF THE VIDEO. You can see it CLEARLY reflected in hair! The emergency WAS engaged

- forgot I needed subtitles again :(

- Literally just mention chess. They’ll know what to do once you mention chess.

- Classic Bones and Spock fight… just kiss or smt

- Mr lawyer sir, just say that the computer is faulty… lead with that

- “white noise device” that is a microphone

- “Mr Spock eliminate his heartbeat” WHAT

- “beaten and sobbing” Kirk what did you do to him???

- “she’s a very good lawyer” McCoy and Spock just look away.

Episode 22 (The Return Of The Archons):

- Those first couple of lines seem like bad ADR

- WAIT wait wait SULU NO- damn he’s mind controlled …

- THE OUTFITS OH MY-

- Kirk waking up his boyfriends

- “Landru will know, they will come” https://youtu.be/GM1nBnksCoU?si=3D1hdDik9upaU088

youtube

- “THIS IS MY BOOM STICK” basically the- the sticks that the- yeah.. EVIL DEAD REFERENCE

- I can’t remember if I’m remembering this right but is Landru an evil computer?

- nap time! They’re just a bit sleepy

-so another being that wants to assimilate.. I sense a theme in these shows…

- “Evidently a maximum security establishment” the walls are rocks, the floors are rocks, there’s space to move around, and torches.. maximum security top ‘o the shelf

- McCoy’s southern accent coming out (maybe I just do not notice it?)

- Kirk and Spock look so sad when Spock concludes he’s become like how they saw Sulu

- Kirk’s little worried outburst and Spock sitting down with McCoy…

- I’d like to submit this image to the press

- Spock’s smug little smirk when he’s pretending to be mind controlled wtf

- “Be wary of Doctor McCoy” McCoy proceeds to stand up behind them and peek over their shoulders

- goddamn McCoy’s eyes can look scary. ‘Specially when he’s pointing and yelling at you

- SPOCK NOT AFRAID TO PUNCH A BITCH

- Spock is so fine in the suit with no jacket… what who said that

- LMAO ITS THE BLOCKY COMPUTER

- Are they gonna paradox kill him? Yeah they’re gonna paradox kill him

- okay great they killed him… where’s McCoy

- “and Mr Sulu is back to normal” then Sulu does a little double arm shrug and it’s amazing

Okay guess we’re leaving that one without any other updates on McCoy… I live in perpetual sorrow

Master post

#Youtube #star trek #star trek the original series #star trek tos #star trek kirk #tos kirk #captain james kirk #star trek spock #tos spock #spock #star trek bones #star trek mccoy #tos bones #tos mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #star trek sulu #tos sulu #hikaru sulu

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joe-spookyy · 22 days

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nothing makes me more evil than seeing someone misinterpret daniel “oz” osbourne of buffy the vampire slayer fame. this is deeply unfortunate because it seems to be all everyone knows how to do. the amount of people i’ve seen dogging on him for things he did not even have control over is crazy. if you have issues with him read on. he’s the best character and i will die on that hill, so fight me on this one. i dare you. season 4 spoilers under the cut sorry to my friends. also him and tara could have been best friends but this isn’t really about her. just had to say it.

FIRST of all. he did not cheat on willow. veruca took advantage of him. i don’t even get how there’s grey area there - it’s clear that in both situations the wolf has control over oz, but not over veruca. so not only was HE not choosing to have sex with her or even aware that he was doing it, but SHE was aware and was taking advantage of him. this is not in ANY way his fault??? now yeah. he coulda been a little more defensive about himself when he was talking to willow and buffy but it’s oz. he’s already worried about hurting people when he’s a werewolf. if everyone’s telling him he’s bad and wrong for this he’s gonna believe it even if it isn’t true. and he didn’t have to scram and go full no contact after that. but again. he was SCARED! he didn’t wanna hurt willow any more than he already had. he made a snap decision based on what he felt he HAD to do. and if you’re one of the people who says just because he brought veruca into the cage that means he Wanted her to do that to him. i am going to get you. that’s victim blaming. he just wanted to make sure she didn’t KILL anyone. it makes sense that he would pick risking her taking advantage of him again over letting people die. did he handle it perfectly? no. that does not mean he wanted her to do all that. he loves willow and says that so many times explicitly. literally left to make sure he was good enough for her. he did not want veruca. jesus.

and SECOND. even worse is the people who are saying he comes across as homophobic for having a negative reaction to finding out about willow and tara. like. hello. did we watch the same scene. not once does he say anything negative about the fact that they’re both girls. he’s clearly just upset that willow didn’t tell him she was involved with anyone else, and with his whole new controlling the wolf thing, there’s gonna be a lot of pent up emotion and probably anger. so when he got extra upset when tara wouldn’t tell him anything more and eventually ended up wolfing out, it’s clear that it’s because he’s upset that he trusted willow but she didn’t give him all the information about where she was at and whether or not he had a chance with her again. which makes sense from her perspective of course, and tara’s reaction was valid too, but we can’t act like he suddenly hates gay people just cause he got mad that someone he cares about wasn’t totally honest with him. and he warns tara so he doesn’t end up hurting her by accident. and at the end of the episode all he wants to know is whether willow is happy. and she is. and so he’s happy for her and accepts it. i don’t even know how people are getting any other perception of the situation. god. sorry.

big idea is if you think oz is in the wrong for either of these i am going to hunt you down and beat you up evil style and maybe sit you down and have a talk about media literacy.

#oz buffy #oz btvs #daniel oz osbourne #willow rosenberg #willow btvs #willow buffy #willoz #werewolf #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy season 4 #tara btvs #tara buffy #tara maclay #character analysis

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gothicwidowsworld · 1 year

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Mayfair M.A

Y/N L/N’s loved when she got to sit in on and be a part of Screaming Meals, whilst having cameras in her face had become a necessary evil in her career Screaming Meals was less media duties and more fucking about and having a lark with her boyfriend and their tightknit group of friends without having to worry about a show, a race, an interview or anything else her career and Marcus’ threw at them. Yeah Nah G’day was the jewel in the Screaming Meals channel at least in Y/N’s eyes watching Marcus & James slip back into simple Kiwi boy’s sharing stories & laughs, the occasional sly dig thrown in.

“I was just hanging around Mayfair the other day… I’m not flexing I’m just I was in Mayfair at a cafe with my girlfriend…” Marcus began already rolling his eyes at the face James was pulling at the mention of the infamous London location. “Was I there?” James asked quickly, the tall Kiwi forgetting to let the Driver finish his sentence. “Are you my girlfriend? Marcus asked sarcastically, raising a quizzical eyebrow in response. Resting back, relaxing more into the firm sofa Marcus continued his story “The cafe was reasonably empty, and I’ve sort of looked over to my left and uh… and I’ve seen someone. And I’m like she looks familiar. At this point Y/N’s given me a weird look, I’m like she looks really like Rihanna. Obviously, I didn’t say that to Y/N/N because you know I wasn’t looking at another girl but I’m also not stupid.” Snorting at his mates replay of his inner monologue James interrupted again “Debatable.” It was obviously in jest, but Marcus couldn’t help the offended look that filled his pale features. James and Marcus even Clém often poked fun at each other but they never meant any harm by it, it was just playground high jinks despite leaving school years ago. “So I’m like I’ll just get my phone, I check online um oh shit Rhianna is actually in London right now. And She’s realised that I’ve noticed it's her and there’s only like my table and her table” The Kiwi Driver explained moving his hands around to try to visually explain the distance between him and who he’d now confirmed as the famous Barbadian singer. “And she’s like basically from me to y/n away, she’s so close and I’m like oh my god.”

“Mate she’s gonna freak out when she sees this” James explained teasing the clearly excited Marcus, if there was one thing Marcus Armstrong was bad at other than singing it was hiding his emotions. It didn’t take a genius to work out when he was excited. From the way his soft golden hazel eyes would sparkle to the small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a growing grin. “I know” Marcus replied somewhat bashfully, an awkward laugh of disbelief tumbling from his pink lips. “When she watches this she’s gonna absolutely lose it. So I’ve realised it’s her and She can see in my eyes that I’ve just realised it’s Rhianna right. And she’s obviously said something to her mate who’s like right next to her and I believe that mate was A$AP Rocky. Quite a table next to us and uh so she’s mentioned something, and I’ve turned to my girlfriend and I’ve said, “Whatever you do don’t turn around.” Marcus trailed off mentally reliving the moment, his heart starting to race.

“Obviously the first thing Y/N’s gonna do” James stated with a shrug of his shoulders, it was a known fact the y/h/c girl couldn’t be trusted in situations like this. It wasn’t her fault; it was just a reflex she struggled to control no matter how hard she tried. “No I’ve said “don’t turn around Babe do NOT turn around, but Rhianna is on the table behind us”. And of course, my sweet sweet girlfriend has turned around. Um and then suddenly it just struck me I was like actually now that I realise it this room is full of security guards… And they’re all looking at me because I’ve just said that WAY too loud, and Y/N/N’s turned around.” Marcus recounted, a small smile breaking onto his face as he locked eyes with the aforementioned girl behind the camera. “Kind of like Clément Novalak in a Drivers briefing” James chortled purposely ignoring the scoffing that came from his female long-time friend.

“Exactly like Clément in the driver’s briefing… she’s going to hate that you’ve compared her to him..” the F2 Driver replied laughing at first before trailing off. It was a joke, a good joke even, but Y/N hated being compared to any Driver on the F2 grid or otherwise. Adjusting his headphones Marcus cleared his throat “And uh, my heart is like pounding, it’s like the most nervous I’ve ever been in my life seeing Rhianna, she’s looked me in the eyes and given me a look of disgust, something that I’m quite used to now.”

“It was not a look of disgust!.” the y/h/c young woman called out softly, a giggle rippling from her chest, her heart warming at the sight of a slightly panicking Armstrong. At the same time James decided to add his thoughts. “Yeah, especially from women… or Y/N’s fans” James added knowing that over the past couple of months the young woman’s fanbase had grown, and with that so had some of jealousy targeted towards the New Zealander. “Thanks man… And uuhh so I actually I felt so embarrassed for myself that i’d made her uncomfortable that I just thought I need to leave, Babe we need to leave. I just can’t believe I made her feel like this. Lets just get up and leave, I’m sorry I’ve ruined our date, but we just need to leave. So I’m like let’s go. And then Y/N just looks at me like I’m insane and walked up to Rhianna and says “Hey Rhi how are you” like it was nothing!? Then they like hug and everything and then we just walk out, we just go. I’m still buzzing now like yeah.”

“I can tell.” the taller Kiwi replied, “It is weird when you see like a full-blown celebrity in the wild.” James hummed a second later nodding his head slightly at his statement. “James, you see me all the time?!” Y/N hollered tilting her head slightly in confusion, some loose strands of y/h/c locks disturbing her view of the lighter haired man. “I said a celebrity!” James barked back in faux angst. “I’ll just go fuck myself then? No more concert tickets for you!” Y/N sassily retaliated losing the fighting urge to stick her tongue out at her boyfriends and unfortunately hers depending on how you looked at it close mate.

“Hold on a minute! You can’t do that!” James exclaimed loudly, shooting forward quickly, almost yanking his headphones violently. Turning to face his co-host James frowned slightly “Can she do that?” James whispered obnoxiously a look of utter bewilderment casting over his face. All the insurance broker got in response was a half-hearted shrug.

y/nl/n posted to their story

#gothicwidow #marcus armstrong imagines #marcus armstrong x reader #james harvey blair x platonic reader #screaming meals x reader #screaming meals imagines #f2 imagines #f2 x reader #marcus armstrong x singer reader #marcus armstrong x celebrity reader #formula two imagines #formula two x reader

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nokomiss · 4 months

Note

For a prompt: How about JaySteph, established relationship, hijacking a boat (you can pick what kind) for a mission.

@hollie47 I hope you enjoy!

“I feel like that’s the wrong thing to do,” Steph said. “Like. Morally. I get your bigger-picture talk but. Come on.”

“It’s just temporary,” Jason argued. “We’ll bring it right back.”

Steph gave him a look. “When have we ever returned anything we requisitioned in its original form?”

“I mean.” Jason said, thinking. “Once I brought the Batmobile back with a full tank of gas.”

“And missing a fender,” Steph said. “I remember that clearly, because it got brought up the next time I asked to borrow the Batmobile.”

Jason sighed. “I just really don’t want to swim, y’know? Do you know how heavy this outfit is?”

“Mine’s not exactly a bikini either,” Steph said. The river flowed sluggishly, and it would be doable to swim, but Jason brought up a good point there. She also knew from his previous bitching that not all of his supplies were waterproofed, and she felt like that was a bigger factor. Just not one he wanted to say out loud in public, for fear of rogues with water guns.

Water balloons? She tried to remember if she’d ever come up against someone throwing evil water balloons and drew a blank.

She turned her attention back to the boat. Well, canoe. It belonged to the troop of Girl Scouts snoozing in their tents in a nearby clearing; they had taken care to avoid the group. The den mothers were still awake, sitting around the fire chatting quietly, and here were Steph and Jason, contemplating stealing what was clearly their transport back to civilization.

“We have to bring it back,” she said firmly. Taking down a human trafficker was important, but stranding a group of Girl Scouts in the forest was decidedly not great. “Like. In working condition.”

“It’s a canoe, how hard will that be?” Jason asked. He shot her a grin that made Steph a little weak in the knees, not that she would ever tell him that, because only an idiot would hand Jason Todd a weapon like that.

She climbed in, and after a few moments of fumbling they figured out the whole paddling rhythm, and soon they were on the other shore and chasing down the bad guy.

Which went fine!

Steph was pretty proud of the fact that they got both the trafficker and his contact, and they rescued four teenagers, and all of that was very, very good.

Unfortunately, though. Unfortunately… The vigilante curse had struck again.

She and Jason stood on the bank of the river after having arranged for the pickup of their captures, had handed over the evidence, and had done a by-the-books job! Except for one minor detail.

“When the hell did it even catch on fire?” Jason despaired, looking at the canoe. “It’s in water.”

It was still smoking, the flames having been doused as soon as they’d gotten there. Ironically enough, Steph and Jason were now soaked through, having been forced to dive into the water to splash river water directly onto the flames.

“Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks?” Jason said doubtfully. “Let’s get the water out of it.”

They tipped it enough to get the water out, then settled the canoe back into the water. Immediately water gurgled back into it from a gaping hole in the bottom. “Yeah, this guy’s toast. Burnt toast. We should go tell the Girl Scouts.”

“We’re not waking up a bunch of nine year olds to tell them we killed their canoe,” Jason said. “I refuse.”

“We can’t just leave them!” Steph argued. The canoe dipped deeper into the water. “We have to replace it.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Jason said.

A few calls to some slightly shady people Jason was familiar with later – neither willing to call Babs in, unwilling to face the level of mockery that she would send their way – and forty five minutes of sitting on the river bank contemplating what to do with the charred remains of the canoe later, a boat was delivered.

A pontoon boat. It was big enough to host a small party.

“Thanks,” Jason said, staring at the boat. “That’s… exactly what I wanted. Good work.”

“You got it, boss,” said the guy who was absolutely not a goon because Jason didn’t employ those any more said, and merrily went about his way, oblivious to the concept of sarcasm.

“Good help is hard to find,” Steph said, patting him on the arm.

They left a “Sorry about your canoe :(“ banner pinned to the side of the pontoon, decided to leave give the canoe a burial at sea so the Girl Scouts wouldn’t be distressed at the sight of their canoe’s sad remains, and left it at that.

And they would have left it at that!

But the next night Babs called them both in to check out a lead on something, and when they arrived at the Clocktower, they were greeted with multiple headlines displayed prominently on some of Oracle’s biggest screens, ranging from positive (Girls Scouts Receive Gift From Mysterious Benefactor!) to bland (Girl Scouts’ Missing Canoe Replaced With Pontoon) to derisive (Thief Destroys Girl Scout Property).

“Hi Babs, lookin’ good today!” Steph said, trying her best to ignore the headlines.

“Really, Steph? Flattery?” Babs said, raising an eyebrow.

Steph shrugged. It sometimes worked! Granted, not on Babs. She looked over at Jason, who was cleaning under his nails with a batarang. It was definitely her batarang, specifically her goop-a-rang. She wondered if she should tell him the danger he was in, then decided against it. He was putting a lot of effort into not looking Babs in the eye, after all. She didn’t want to ruin it.

“I can’t believe I have to say this, but guys, you can’t steal from Girl Scouts. Or any other children. Actually, let’s just keep stealing off the table altogether.” Babs looked like she was lecturing wayward children.

Steph protested, “We were going to give it back!”

Babs raised an eyebrow.

Jason continued to not look anyone in the eye.

“It was Jason’s idea!” Steph added. “Also, I’m not even sure how it caught on fire? But it was beyond repair. So we replaced it!”

“You could have replaced it with something that wasn’t wildly conspicuous and created headlines I’m having to monitor!” Babs said. Steph got the impression Babs was fighting the urge to stick out her tongue.

Shift the blame time, then. “Again, Jason’s fault,” Steph said. “His goon needs training.”

Jason mouthed the word goon before saying defensively, “I don’t have goons!”

“That guy was absolutely a goon.”

“He’s a buddy! He did the best he could!” Jason said, looking as though he couldn’t believe he was defending a goon to them.

Babs took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Leave. Both of you, just…leave. And don’t do this again!”

“We won’t!” Steph promised, and grabbed Jason by the arm to drag him out the door. “Love ya! Bye!”

After all, what are the odds that anything about that scenario would happen again?

Two Months Later:

Steph stared down at the burning remains of the canoe. “Jason, did you do this on purpose?”

“You know I didn’t!” Jason hissed back. “It was Firefly!”

“Babs is going to kill us,” Steph said blankly. “We promised her.”

“So I hear that the Caribbean is nice this time of year,” Jason said. “A few hurricanes, but…”

“Pick an island, I’m there.”

#my fic #jaysteph #stephanie brown #jason todd #batfamily

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