#none of the people that have ever played his ass have been ugly

[hyperfixationstation1]

cheers to the man who sleeps during the end of the world

Grantaire sketch.

Micron 0.2. Derwent HB and 9B

#les mis #les miserables #grantaire #victor hugo #the brick #cant stand his ass btw #like duuuuuuddde shut up #when I first read his description #you know #he was extremely ugly #which is so mean #then I googled him #none of the people that have ever played his ass have been ugly #Victor what the fuck do you mean by ugly #ridiculous #oh it’s meant to show that skepticism is ugly #still mean Victor #still mean #oh uh #les amis #enjolras #les amis de l'abc #yeah #pencil illustration #art

[myunconquerablesoul]

Home

s.gojo x gn!reader

Warnings: none (one ore two curse words; is that even a warning?)

Wordcount: tba

Saturo Gojo is a whirlwind of a human being.

It's been a hard month for him, with the higher-ups constantly sending him from one place to another and always up his ass. 

You, on the other hand, took care of Tsumiki and Megumi. 

Ensuring that both their lunchboxes were filled, that they got to school on time, that dinner was ready by the time they got their homework done, and that when their bedtime enrolled, they were freshly bathed and prepared to sleep…

It felt like playing house at the beginning, really.

When Saturo first enrolled with not one but two children at your doorstep, you almost wanted to murder him right on the spot.

Both of you were barely out of school. Freshly moved in together... it definitely was something.

But this dys­funk­ti­o­nal family you four built in the last years... 

You wouldn't trade this for the world.

So yes, Saturo Gojo is a whirlwind of a human being, but it never got boring.

The last years were filled with loud laughs, unconditional support, piggyback rides, fireworks, and knowing someone would catch you when you fell. 

You were content with your current life. 

Saturo came home not more than an hour ago. And while you insisted that he shower and change into a more comfortable attire, he simply moved you to sit on the couch, laid his head on your lap, and practically begged you to play with his hair.

You always loved playing with his hair, and he melted every time you did. Seeing him relaxed was calming for you, too. Knowing he was safe with you, that he was home. Knowing that in these moments, there were no obligations for the both of you other than being in love.

And so you did. You couldn't bring yourself to deny him something this little, when it was clear how exhausted he was.

Saturo doesn't have many people in his life that he can say he loves from the bottom of his heart.

Being the positive persona he is, gojo is rarely ever sad, but when he's really going through it, he's as quiet as a mouse, unresponsive and stiff, like he's unsure what to do with himself. 

You take care of him in moments like these. When he feels lost or overwhelmed. You do not ask for anything in return. Everyone has so many expectations for him, and he has to shoulder everyone's problems and responsibilities, but when he's with you, he feels so light he could fly; he feels at home. 

This past Month has been a living hell for him. Constantly being sent from one mission to another. He barely had any time to call you while he was away.

He hated every second of it.

At that time, he felt like he was neglecting his little family. And even if he didn’t like to admit it- it kinda hurt him…

The kids really grew on him. In these last years, he learned to love coming home. 

He always thought that he would hate routines- that he wasn’t that kind of man that wanted to have this thing called family- but the domestic feeling, the love and safe haven you build together-

The delicious sent that would be in the air. Little angel Tsumiki would come running and excitingly tell him what she did that day. Megumi would sit on the couch, reading a book about animals or painting on the floor. 

And every time, Saturo would come up to him to ruffle his hair a bit just to piss that little demon off. 

Then there was you, the love of his life, standing in the kitchen cooking or setting the table for everyone. 

The moment you see him, your eyes would light up, and you would welcome him home with a kiss that he wouldn't mind escalating into something more.

And as if on cue choking noises can be heard in the background as he smiles against your lips…

It felt like really coming home, every time.

But unfortunately, Saturo was stuck in god knows where for a month, fighting ugly curses.

So when he got home, he just wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms and never let go.

He's currently resting his head on your lap, cheek smushed against your thigh while he snores contentedly. 

Looking at how peacefully he was asleep was a strong contrast to his constantly teasing nature.

He enjoys teasing and annoying you a bit too much.

Once, you even asked him why he would do it as much as he did, and that little Fucker just sent a smirk your way. "It's a secret."

In reality, his heart just bursts out of his chest whenever he makes you blush, and it's too cute when you're embarrassed. It just makes him feel so soft and mushy-

You couldn't help but think about the day the two of you finally got together...

"Where are we going?" 

"We?"

"Yes." A warm smile was plastered on his lips as if he was trying to lure you into his charms.

"The last time I checked, you're not my boyfriend, so there isn't any reason for you to accompany me anywhere." 

"You're right. I'm not your boyfriend."

He looked determined as he stood beside you. "Yet."

You literary did not have enough patience today to deal with him, so you simply ignored his comment. 

"I'm going to get some groceries. Want to come with me?" 

A smile spread over his lips, and his eyes sparkled under his sunglasses.

"I'd love to." 

Gojo never learned to flirt because girls always threw themselves at him, so he never had to fight for attention. Pissing people off is the only way he knows.

He's a crazy dude with no particular place for romance. However, with you, it's different.

His hand wraps around yours as he is now escorting you to a nearby grocery store.

"You don't have to hold my hand, you know."

"Oh, but I want to," he says as a matter of fact as he makes no attempt to let go as you walk through the street.

"People are going to assume that we are together."

Gojo dared to smirk. "What's wrong with that? Are we not a sweet couple?" He earnestly hoped that people actually thought so when they saw you.

"No."

"Oh, c'mon. I'm not that bad." The corners of his lips curved into a mischievous smile as he wrapped his arms around yours. "C'mon, admit it, I already stole your heart."

It pisses you off, really. The effect Gojo has on you. "What about you? Did I steal yours?"

Without hesitation, he nods. "Of course, but you are always so hard to approach." His voice sounded somewhat quiet as if his words were meant to be confidential for only you to hear. And it tugs on your heart.

"That's enough teasing for today, Gojo." You shook him off you and took a few steps away from him.

It hurt him, really. Hearing his family name out of your mouth. As if you were reminding him and yourself that you could never be something more than friends.

You call everyone else by their names, Suguro, Shoko, Kento, Yuu... but him? It's always been Gojo.

"No, I'm not done." He's getting closer to you. When you looked up to him... God, you looked so effortlessly beautiful to him that he couldn't even stop the words from slipping from his mouth.

"How about a kiss?" 

The second his words tumbled out of his pretty lips, Gojo cringed.

And you, well, you exploded. 

"Is this all a joke to you? Playing with people's feelings until you're bored and then move on to the next one?"

This has been going on for two years now. You know he wasn’t really playing you, but you couldn't take it any longer. 

"No, Y/N. I genuinely like you."

You only scoff. "And what makes you say that?"

"I've never met someone with your kind of charisma. Your wit and sass. I never felt like this before..."

He was trying his best to stay calm. Gojo's voice was soft and filled with admiration as he stared into your eyes.

"Sweet words won't get you far with me."

"These are more than just sweet words. Just give me a chance." His hand brushes against your cheek. His other hand entangles with yours.

"Let me make you happy. I just want to make you happy." Gojo was desperate. He was practically plea- no... he- he was begging.

Gojo Saturo never begged.

That was until it came to you. Just like he let you in his personal space. Constantly touching you and keeping you close. Always making you the center of his attention. Always putting you before anyone else. Never has he blocked you out with his infinity…

And somehow, this realization made you anxious.

What if-

"What if I can't make you happy?" you whispered. "What if this will not be what you wish for?"

Gojo pulls you closer as he whispers, "What if you can? What if this is everything you wish for?" He looks at you with a soft smile. It is as if nothing scares this man.

You couldn't take this anymore, so you averted your gaze. "What if I'm scared of exactly that?" It was almost inaudible, but he heard you clearly.

"Are you scared of being loved?" He pulls your hand to his chest and lays his forehead on yours.

"Are you not? What if this is all a mistake? What if you're mistaking attraction for love?"

"Trust me." His tone sounded as serious as ever. "The way I feel for you. There is no way I'd mistake it for anything else." 

You don’t even know why you’re dragging all of this out… it’s been two years by now. It’s obvious that he is sure in what he feels.

You can feel his chest rising as he inhales intensely the scent of your hair. "Why are you hesitating?"

"I'm afraid of getting hurt. Empty promises, false hopes. Pretty words to conceal cruel intentions... I'm not saying you'll have ulterior motives, but still..."

"Trust me. I mean every word I said." Gojo's hand goes up to cup your chin as he stares directly into your eyes. "I know how cruel the world is, but I promise I will never hurt you."

He then leans in a bit more, his lips hower over yours- he waits for your permission to seal this as his eyes are halflided but still locked on yours.

"Can I...?"

And you just nod because you always felt this pull towards him. So what, allow yourself this much happiness. 

Gojo's lips press against yours gently as if he doesn't want to hurt you. His lips are soft, and his breath is warm. 

It does not take long before he pulls you in tightly as his tongue tries to gain access, and he devours you. His lips are greedy, and his hands are all over you.

After the exchange, he rests his forehead on yours as his eyes remain closed.

"was that convincing enough?" he asked with a smirk. That bastard is back on teasing you again.

You just roll your eyes. "Don't make me regret this."

"You won't," He replies before kissing you again. 

All your worries disappear, and you lose touch with the real world as he consumes all your senses. 

"I'll never let you regret this."

A few years later, of course, Saturo was proven right. You never once regretted falling in love with him.

"Why are you smiling like that?" His hoarse voice startled you a bit. 

Looking down at him, his azure blue eyes meet yours. "You should rest a bit more." You spoke softly at him as you ran your fingers through his hair. Saturo only hums in delight, leaning more into your touch. "The kids only finish school in about three hours." 

"Lay with me? Want to hug you." He sounded like a little kid. You chuckled. "Sure, Baby." 

Saturo let you get up so that you could lay on top of him on the couch, and the moment you're settled, his arms wrapped around you with a tight grip, he kissed you on the top of your head.

"Ahh... That's much better."

Yeah, it is.

Now that he was home…

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo saturo

[b4tasquad]

RANKING THE BETA SQUAD & EXTRAS BY ATTRACTIVENESS:

thank you for tagging me bae @kennysboxergf <3

Authors note: some of this I know for a fact I’m hearing shit for but idk this is the only right way😛

10. HARRY PINERO

It wouldn’t be b4tasquad without some hp no sauce slander. This guy gets on my nerves so much I have a list of violations I would throw in his face if I was to ever meet that bitch. And it’s not like he’s fine enough to talk about others? Like boy you out here with a non distinguishable hair line and a whole kid trynna act 21 without no kid😐

9. ANESONGIB

Nothing against him, like at all. I just really don’t find him that attractive tbh. And I’ve never really paid attention to him when he’s not in beta squad videos or with em so don’t know him. Kinda looks like the guy from ratatouille but cute tho.

8. JOHNNY CAREY

He’s not ugly? Just not really my type. Really funny in footasylum videos alongside the ones he’s in on the beta squad channel, but like I said not really my type. Kinda feel like he still plays Fortnite and lives in his mamas basement. He has his moments tho, and sometimes his drip be good.

7. DARKEST MAN

now listen… especially ally. I love Darkest with my whole being istg. I find him super attractive and he’s my man frfr… but compared to the others above him I just can’t put him anywhere else😭 but he’s so funny and fine. just wish he had hair…

6. KING KENNY

Very attractive especially with a durag on omg🤭but I’m very much a hair and face combo girl. Like a guy has to have good hair and be handsome to be rated top tier to me🤷‍♀️ Kenny’s super attractive… but lacks in the hair department

5. CHUNKZ

my man love love love his fine ass. i think I’d actually faint on the spot if he opened his mouth and spoke because he’s so fucking fine I’m just😧😧 would but him higher if he had the hair and and face combo…

4. SHARKY

SUPER SUPER SUPER FINE. ISTG and I know some of you are going to hate me for this… but he’s not the finest in the beta squad??? let’s be fr rn. his style is so nice, he’s super handsome but girls he’s not the finest goodbye. Love me some sharky tho

3. YUNGFILLY

idc what you guys have to say about this one. filly has been and will always be fine. if he has 10 fans I’m one of them, if he has one that’s me and if he has none… better believe someone killed my ass😛 he’s so caring, boyfriend material, fine, and stylish. he’s so Abby’s man coded

2. AJ SHABEEL

my man my man my man. all of you know id go to war for my bae. people do him so dirty and I just DONT STAND FOR IT. he’s everything a girl (aka me) needs and I’d do anything for him. his hair is such a bonus cause omfg I want to run my hair through it and the highlights in it??? FUCK YESS

1. NIKO OMILANA

he’s been my bae since day one. I stared watching them because of him, and I’ll continue to watch for him too. he’s the finest most delicious scrumptious guy there is, and I better not hear anyone arguing. there’s never been a discussion. I’ve heard to many “sharky and niko are both the finest.” “Sharky is finer.” NO HES NOT LMAO🙄🙄 the day everyone realises that niko legit has everything. height, hair, face, body im gonna laugh at you??? sign me tf uppppp

#beta squad #✭b4tasquad speaks #niko omilana #aj shabeel #chunkz #sharky #king kenny #yung filly #anesongib #johnny Carey #harry pinero #youtube

[cakejerry]

My theory why Taekook are weird with jimin;

They don’t understand his popularity and therefore and threatened by it.

They both think they are better looking that jimin and thus should be way more popular than him. Like as we discussed, jungkook thinks jimin is ugly. So all the media obsession with jimin’s visuals, the artists who call him their muse, the girls and gays dying over him, the interviewers who become obsessed with him - probably confuses and unsettles the hell out of him. He knows taehyung is handsome so he’s not confused by taehyung’s popularity.

Jungkook and taehyung think they are more talented than him. And maybe jk is a better singer and taehyung is better at making faces, but overall jimin has the most captivating presence and out performs them but they don’t understand and that’s why they are so confused that the audience looses their shit for jimin.

Jimin isn’t as confident as them. But they don’t understand that so many people love that humility about jimin. They love his personality. But since they are dumb toxic Korean men they don’t get that.

So because they can’t understand why jimin is popular they are super threatened by it. It confuses them because they believe they deserve their popularity and jimin almost rivaling them doesn’t make sense to their smooth ass brains!

Yeah. This is why everyone who hates Jimin hates him, ultimately. Because he was never meant to succeed. He was set up for failure, from day one. He was given impossible ultimatum after impossible ultimatum and did everything, lost the weight, got the abs, squeezed into bts at the last minute, and none of them ever truly accepted him, not realizing bts without jimin would be NOTHING. and I mean that.

It's the 'they only hate you because they're jealous' excuse, but for real this time.

People really hate to see a pretty, hardworking, humble, kind-hearted girl win, huh? Spent years praying on his downfall and the only thing that came out of it was him doing HOT GIRL SHIT (alcoholism and tax evasion) and the 'he cant sing' excuse. Well neither can Th or Jin but you don't see them beating themselves up about it. Ever. Just big-headed and self-aggrandizing. Jin and Nj can't dance either yet you don't see anyone telling them to leave the group over it, because being 'all-rounded' has never been crucial for an idol. yet even though Jimin's dancing trumps everyone in the industry (except like 5 people) by MILES, his singing being mediocre is the thing everyone latches on. interesting.

but most of the media play doesn't focus on his singing, anyway. because the rest of bts would go down with him. no, everyone has always focused on his dancing and stage presence, his humility and altruism, his captivating aura. he's not 'almost' rivaling taekook in popularity, he is ALWAYS higher than them on the monthly brand rankings, and that number is always in the top 3. ALWAYS. he is always the one turning heads, making headlines, having people asking 'who's the cunty one?' when they came to america. so WHY was he boggled by insecurity for years? maybe it's time to realize the call is coming from INSIDE the house and all of bts were always the most jealous and spiteful of him and trying to set him up despite him being nothing but gracious and selfless to them all. I get that it's a popular cope that they all dote on him and love him, but the truth is, as evidenced by literally a decade of content, that Jm has always given out all of himself and gotten less than a pittance in return.

rapline at least kind of get hard work. they still hate him, but they're always the ones commenting on how much he practices. but the rest are so lazy and reliant on what they were born with (face for taejin and half decent vocals for jungkook) that their tiny little pea brains cannot BEGIN to comprehend that Jimin's dedication shines through in everything he does, and everyone sees it and falls in love with him instantly. while the rest of bts is left in the dust, bitter and washed up

#anon #jimin #pjm #idek anymore

[imthefailedartist]

I'm five episodes deep into The Watcher it is white nonsense at its finest.

They have no money but have not made one frugal alteration to their lives. In fact they seem to be purposefully making it worse.

Spoilers

Is this all a dream? Because that's how this is feeling. The über weird neighbors. The fact that their house is so much bigger than everyone else's. Nora's wishy washy behavior. KAREN in total. The kids lack of going to school despite the fact that it is clearly fall. They have a sex life but suddenly they don't. The whole John Graff nee List plot. Ellie being dumb as hell. The son barely being a character outside of crying. Nora's a ceramist but we never see her making anything. The home reno going so quickly and smoothly. How long have they been in the house. Dean has a job but it's never clear what he does. The daughters a pianist but never plays and is instead swimming. Everyone keeps repeating phrases. They never go anywhere in town. We've never really seen the town. They lived in NYC for years where are their friends? Nora still has business & a show there she never checks on anything no one ever updates her. The chief or head detective & the PI both weird. The PI having such a convoluted story to how she became a PI. Everyone knows everything but everyone knows nothing. They spent all their money on the house yet have money for country clubs, private detectives, security systems, weeks long motel stays. The house address is 657 BOULEVARD is that the streets name Boulevard Blvd. St. Ln. Trl. Ave. What? Everything is linear but nonsensical like a dream.

I know multiple locations and characters is limited because of covid safety and budget restraints but a lot of this is feeling purposeful.

This whole show feels like one of those really intense hyperfocused scenes where a character is on the verge of a breakdown or just dropped acid and is trying to pretend they aren't tripping.

I think think the Watcher is Karen. I think 657 Boulevard was her house. She lost it when her husband left her. She used the divorce settlement to reinvent herself and get her realtors license. Now she's trying to buy the house, her dream house, back one commission at a time. With every scared seller the price gets lower and lower and she gets closer and closer. It explains why she's so passive aggressive about Nora's marriage. And insists on them selling. And keeps bringing up the Watcher and making it out to be way worse than some letters. It's probably something else but who knows?

It's probably not a dream or novel or story. And instead of a fun guessing game I probably just pointed out a bunch of plot holes. Oh well. Nothing is perfect as long as I had fun watching it I don't care.

Is Dakota one of the guys from Rae Shremmerd?

So I'm past episode 5 onto 6 and I was wrong. It's more normal than what I thought. It's just white people being white people and not minding they damn business. So truly the scariest thing of all the scary things.

Well this is hitting real close to home. I too have neighbors doing things I don't like to their homes. Two put up the world's ugliest and gaudiest fence. Another's fence is falling apart. Another has trash and uncut grass spilling from his back yard. One house removed the shrubbery from the front of house and made it look so plain and ugly. And I live in a normal suburb. I imagine I'd go insane if my house was worth a couple mill and my new neighbors were fucking up.

Also, I'm not selling my house. Keep watching Watcher because I'm gone do what I want in my house and you can suffer. $275,000 less from $3.5 M with improvements, I think the fuck not you trick ass bitch. We moving back in there letters and all.

Is this a dream? When the fuck did Maurice die? What is the timeline. So much time has passed and yet it feels like none has. Why is Karen so shady?

#the watcher #the watcher netflix #bobby cannavale #naomi watts #ryan murphy #dream sequence #white nonsense #plot holes #keeping up with the joneses #rae sremmurd #jennifer coolidge #weird vibes

[evvlevie]

❤️‍🔥♥️ random things about Evie ♥️❤️‍🔥

(because why not? what if you want to get to know me?)

🍓my full name is Evangeline, and I am evil Evie on here because I liked the alliteration and I can be quite mean if I really want to

🍓my favorite color is red. But if I go to buy something and the shade of red is ugly, my next preferred color is pink.

🍓if I was a fruit I think I‘d be a peach because I like peaches and they are fuzzy which is kind of unique

🍓I love everything with hearts on it or shaped in a heart or just generally hearts. I wipe my ass with toilet paper that has hearts on it I am not even kidding.

🍓because of my obsession with hearts, my favorite holiday is Valentinesday. Yes it’s a commercialization of love, but every holiday is commercializing SOMETHING and a day to show your loved ones that you appreciate them is not a bad thing plus everything is pink and heart shaped and I can only thrive in that loving environment

🍓if I was nut I’d be a coconut

🍓my most favorite TV-show is >>how I met your mother<< when I want to watch something to feel good. But other than that I believe >>Stranger Things<< and >>YOU<< are pure artwork.

🍓I love Christopher Nolan movies. They are cinematic gold and always leave you still thinking about the movie and his movies always spawn great Fan theories which makes his artwork stick with you even after you have finished watching it and that’s what true art is about in my opinion. Therefore my favorite movie is >>Inception<<.

🍓I have a red tattoo on my wrist, and it’s the word „you“ which symbolizes the way people create artwork around other people and how you can devote yourself to someone else which as a concept in itself seems to beautiful to me that we as humans are able to feel so deeply for others, that we make art out of our devotion.

🍓I sneeze when I eat chocolate and I am not even kidding.

🍓I love Office supplies. If you put me into a shop full of pens and notebooks I would spend an entire day there and not notice the sky falling or a tsunami hitting my city, I am just such a Virgo it hurts.

🍓I have been DREAMING of buying a MINI Cooper S Countryman in a brownish color and as soon as I have my driver’s license that’s what I will be manifesting for myself 😩

🍓I love ripndip clothing because it’s so colorful and creative.

🍓I am neither a dog or a cat person I am allergic to both and I like both. Used to be more on the dog side but learned to love cats too and now it’s equal love for both

🍓I love Dr Pepper

🍓my favorite animals are hippos

🍓my favorite music is the nbhd, the arctic monkeys, Chase Atlantic, The Weeknd, Lana del Rey and Blackbear and Billie Eilish

🍓I own 6 pairs of converse chucks because that is my favorite shoe and my most favorite pair are my cdg-play ones because they have a heart on their sides.

🍓I hate avocados so much and you can not change my mind. Honestly. I have tried that stupid fruit far too many times in order for anyone to tell me that this tasteless green slob is amazing and a game changer. If I have to slap on 17 spices in order for that thing to even taste like ANYTHING and that anything only being the spices, then I am wasting my time, money and water in order to grow that useless ass fruit and just straight up eat a spoon full of seasoning and call it a day.

🍓I am a passionate hater

🍓and a really picky eater. I eat like a three year old at my 19 years of age. And I am not ashamed of it. I have a BIG problem with textures, and trusting food, so if any picky eater is reading this: don’t let anybody make you feel bad for disliking certain textures or having struggles with eating or food in general. Your feelings are valid and I don‘t want to hear from ANYONE that they are forcing down food because people around them think that it’s „childish“ not to like certain things. ONLY EVER EAT THE THINGS YOU WANT TO EAT. I fully understand anyone who struggles with eating and picky eaters are never picky by choice. None of us wake up and decide they want to be a problem today.

🍓I only wear silver jewelry

🍓my dream wedding would be a trashy Elvis-Impersonator-Wedding in Vegas because I believe that if someone truly loves you, they would marry you on the spot in a split decision and not think about it for 6 months first before they ask you and give themselves 1 year + time to think about if they are really making the right decision. You may disagree but that’s my perspective on things and romance <3

🍓I have a label maker and I am deeply attached to it (I am a Virgo remember)

So this is me. I thought you might like to know your favorite shifting blogger a little better, and now you might have a more clear picture on who is sitting behind all of these posts 😽😼

Yours in every reality

Evie ❤️‍🔥

[piduai]

Also your ship hate is so real. Keep your hater-head up queen. It's crazy how popular some of them are too (esp sugio n koitsuki) given the fact that it takes away from what made these characters interesting and unique in the first place entirely. Sugio is just your typical 700k-boyXboy-enemies-to-lovers but to make it work you have to completely obliterate both of these characters personalities/what they stand for (motive/writing wise) especially Ogata like c'mon now... His ass is NOT getting redeemed through the power of yaoiful sex. Poor Sugimoto, Shiraishi was right there too. At least this one had the 'EyeSuck' scene, but koitsuki? How would that even work without Tsurumi? Get real. I know the need arose from the fans wanting to give Tsukishima a ''happy end'' but honestly I would rather take years of dilf manupilation if it means I don't get to babysit a dumbass rich kid for the rest of my millitary life. Not that I hate Koito, I like him as a character but he definiatly had 'барчо́нок' mannerisms, like he deadass said Tsukishima was filthy and broke for not owning a handmirror... Sorry you're probably sick of reading about this way more than I am since you've been into GK much longer but I just had to say I'm with you on the GK pairs feeling fujoshibait/homophobic in nature and it's wild considering the content of the actual manga. You have people cvmming from getting their finger ate and yet... Then again I know this has more to do with the general anime/manga consumer mindset rather than GK itself so it is to be expected, I just care about this manga so goddamn much girl Satoru Noda messed up my brain in the best way fr. Sorry I got carried away but if you read it this far thank you again for your translations and I wish you the best!!

but i don't think any of them are fujoshibait/homophobic tho... the way noda wrote them (character dynamics) i mean, not the fujobait anime posters no self-respecting person cares about. like imo there's no need to grasp for straws and paint something you think is stupid and tasteless as problematic/bigoted/morally corrupt 🤷 just say you find it ugly and dumb and move on. none of the popular or unpopular fanon ships were written as romantic/sexual in canon anyway no matter what the coomers say, all that "tension" people keep yapping about is just complex human relationships or titillation/double entendre/play on classic tropes noda is super duper fond of but it all gets over girlies' heads because they lost the ability to see past fanfiction. sad! well nobody has time for this

otherwise i agree, all gk ships are stupid and have no substance but sugio/koitsuki are the dumbest because they're inescapable. with sugio it will NOT work out in any scenario (ever) unless one of them is wildly ooc and let's be honest sugimoto would never say or do that. there's a reason 98% of sugio shippers are ogatagirls, they compromise sugimoto's entire character to get that 700k boy x boy enemies to lovers hot and steamy yaoi because ogata as he is could never coexist with sugimoto as he is. so it just ends up being reductive and shallow and stripping both of them of what makes them interesting

with koitsuki i just don't understand it but it's mostly because i find tsukishima super boring so anything regarding him is a huge blind spot for me (since i simply do not look in his direction). i think koitsuki is one of the "safest" and most bland dynamics in gk (exact reason for which it's the most popular ship) but in fanon again both characters are stripped of their complexity and their canon relationship is severely modified to make it more yaoiful

which honestly i have no problem with... like if that's how people want to enjoy this series, sure. who cares, none of it is real.

i think there's like things to be said about how shipping culture and the popularization of fanfiction has gradually taken the shape of bile that poisons most attempts at interacting with other fans since all they know is sucking and fucking but honestly i'm a huge advocate for not engaging in unpleasant situations when you can. sure there's a lion share of people who can't see past the yaoi thus compromising everything else you and i love this series for but like... so what? i avoid those people, i don't befriend them, i don't read what they say. and i don't have a say in how strangers choose to engage with fiction... at the end of the day it all comes down to personal taste and what you seek from said fiction, if they're comfortable in this insufferable climate i'm happy for them and wish them the best. as for me i'll just stick to my peaceful yaoi-sparse corner

#anon

[dasparkmaneyt]

This was the convo at school today with my ex-crush, in my favourite subject, science

You guys will know him by his last name (Martin)

“Oh shut up!” Martin

“YOU SHUT UP MARTIN!” Me

“What?” Martin

“I’m sick of you!” Me

“I-“ Martin

“I GET IT! IM LIKE CANCER! No one wants me! No one needs me! And the people I’ve infected will die and I’ll be on my own like normal! But you know what?! I don’t care! I get it! I’m not pretty! I’m not curvy! I’m not athletic! I’m not everyone’s picture of beautiful! I’m ugly and I know it! I don’t need some IDIOTIC MALE! To tell me I am! Nor an immigrant! If you want me to kill myself then your going to have to try harder! Cause I nearly lost a friend to suicide! None of that shit helps! But you know what does? Crying yourself to sleep every. Single. Night. I don’t care anymore! I’ve already been broken! You don’t have a chance to break me! After all the shit I’ve been through it was like putting my whole hand into a pot of boiling oil, but what your doing? It doesn’t scratch the surface, my best friend was murdered, my sister killed herself and is still trying to! My mum was about to kill herself from drinking to much! My dad drowned my cat! My best friend left my side because of her shit family! And everyone judges me for one feature, my teeth, you think I care about your opinion? Well Martin, ever since that night, I’ve had one dream, to shove your HEAD in that pot of oil” Me

“I-“ Martin

“No I’m not done!” Me

“Dawn-“ teacher

“I starved myself because I thought that was the problem, it wasn’t, I exercised until I passed out, not healthy either, I forced myself to change, but over all it was because your a man you don’t have a heart” me

“Oh so we’re stereotyping each other now because what’s in our pants? Your just like other girls! Your selfish! Self centred-“ Martin

“You know they mean the same thing you imbecile?” Me

“Your cocky! Yeah your mouth may be the only thing unattractive about you but you constantly make it about you!” Martin

“Maybe because I was ignored as a kid! Maybe because when we were in year 7 you guys had happy family’s while I made my parents divorced! I’ve been living in guilt! I don’t let anyone know because I made two people who loved each other to separate!” Me

“Donna?” Friend

“Maybe if I had the proper support as before I would know how to stop being myself! But until then I have to wait a thousand years to finally understand one thing!” Me

“What? That you finally SHOULD kill yourself?” Martin

“HEY you two!” Teacher

“No! That the only friend I need is a ghost and a shadow figure! They keep me safe! Keep me company and they sure as hell tell me that you’ll never change!” Me

“It’s not my fault that your so stupid! God open your eyes!” Martin

“Sorry I’m blind that’s why I wear glasses idiot” me

“Riley liked you! Fucking hell! Yeah I like you as well but Riley has since year 7!” Martin

“Dude!” Riley

“Dawn?” Friend

“You two to the office now!” Teacher

*after one quiet walk to the main office*

“So what happened?” Principal

“I snapped, at this scottish loser” me

“Dawn we don’t need the insults anymore” principal

“She verbally abused me! All because a stupid message!” Martin

“What was this message?” Principal

“Just one of my friends telling this loser that I liked him, don’t anymore, he’s a cock suck!” Me

“Says you!” Martin

“Bring back the stereotypes?!” Me

“If you listened for once then I wouldn’t have to!” Martin

“Yeah?! Well at least I did some proper hard work during the holidays, what did you do? Oh that’s right! Sit on your ass all the two weeks playing a game that’s shit!” Me

“Go back to the kitchen” Martin

I then kicked him in the nuts so hard he was gasping for air in extreme amounts of pain whilst on the ground, and then earning myself a weeks suspension, whilst he was only suspended for 3 days for his comment, how does that work?

#first day of term three #suspension #high school #year 9 #first week #argument #science #friendless #love

[the-firebird69]

Oxygen levels are increasing and are suddenly had a mild headache for a few minutes and we check and yes we checked and the rest of you are dying and where that is he says they're not even high enough to just juice me and they're not it's about 24 and a couple spikes of 27 minutes but he is healthier and her system works a little better that's his body and he heals faster it still takes a little so I'm watching things happen here and I'm going over what people are doing and we look at the idiots and they are idiots I noticed that they're messing around with him I will try and say stuff and fairly badly a lot so keep trying to stop them and there was this by issue or threats so I got up with me I will continue forever and we need to stop them here and now it's the time so we have begun to stop them here and on purpose and it is a big ugly thing but that's what's going on and we're moving in to do the job. A lot of them can't stand it and I'm trying to revolt all day long and said nightmare they're horrible people

-there's a lot going on today there's a few people who need to be put back in line there are several who are doing things are illegal and there's more around for being a bother or nuisance and I want them in I'm tired of their ass nine game where they're giving him less and less playing cards and threatening to kidnap him the whole time and these people have got nothing from it it's stupid all they got was very upset at them and the foreigners we know cuz you do it to us and we need your dad and the city of Saint the whole time and the idiots can't hear it so today both groups and we're going to do it too I'm going to go around and collect these idiots this we just don't want to hear it anymore and they're in trouble there's the more like mac and they need to leave for real they need to get out of here and feeling they're not going to so they will have to try and survive here somehow we're not really sure how they're going to do it there's such huge assholes to everybody

-last night into this morning there were several renditions that's way too many people by the morlock and it keeps happening informing up now they have like a hundred trillion and really they don't even do anything. They say they need help from inside and it's not much and they're going to try and strike again here and the holes in other places. They're down to about 4% of the general populace and none of them believe it and we've been going back and forth so many times because of them hardly any of them are going to ever believe it and that's why we're doing it it's going to be a day to remember also all over the world and they don't like to hear it but they are being beaten to death the entire group unfortunately is being beaten to death wherever they go and then 4% is ever shrinking and the organized groups and they get killed and hasn't really hit the mainstream yet as much as I could but shortly it will cuz they will notice that they don't have power,. These things are coming up pretty quick and we thought today might be the day and it could be that they notice her too small to open their mouths and it hasn't happened yet what's smaller what he says when they see the islands they're willing to probably get very small and we get that. Even these leaders fall for it.

There are other things happening and yes Friday the 13th and Halloween have begun it's the preamble it's pretty hot and heavy though I mean they're out there to throw each other around pretty soon it's going to happen and the preamble for Shazam as occurred and his name is Shazam is an odd place it's between Hollywood and downtown it's weird because it's not wooded and it's not rural it's right in the middle of civilization and they're having a little bit of a war there over something that's below that area last night I got pretty big and people mutated for some reason and it's going on right now. Tonight it's Shazam the movie and it's in a different place but they move and we'll show you where it's important

Thor Freya

That's right they're fighting to get to the drill bit and they don't make it even tell me if it's his crew fighting the others that's just for information as it is not there

[daysofourlivesrecaps]

Monday, 22 May 2023

Okay, let's get this one out of the way upfront since it doesn't go anywhere and every other storyline is actually connected: Nicole and EJ are not getting married. Or, at least, she didn't say yes to his hasty "let's get back at my brother" proposal, anyway.

Nicole calls EJ out for this, and backs up her "you pulled this moment out of your ass" case with the simple, observable fact that he's not even proposing with a ring. I hate being on Nicole's side for any reason, but she's got you there, Elvis.

He admits that this is somewhat true, but also confesses his genuine love to her. She is unable to reciprocate. Which typically would feel like an honest answer, but this is Nicole we're talking about so it's probably a lie built on another lie to hide six more lies. Nicole is like a slum lord who uses lies as the shoddy building material for the house that is her life. Which she then rents to herself.

Meanwhile, Colin is still up on that rooftop, waving a gun and threatening to throw Paulina off to her death. And it occurs to me: Jackée is, in the common parlance, a big beautiful woman. She's easily twice the size of this scrawn-job. So I'm not sure how he thinks he's going to —

Oh. Right. He can just threaten to shoot Chanel if Paulina doesn't jump. That actually makes a lot of sense.

Rafe tends to the rolling pinned Abe. Nothing new has been added to this situation since Friday but I'm still tickled by the idea that the mayor and the police commissioner are having a little lie-down on the floor of a bakery while the women sort all of this out.

Jada questions Sloan for her role in all of this (which is still none — *none role*)  but  is interrupted by a call from Talia, who's still ugly-crying about... [gestures to encompass the entirety of Talia's life since she arrived in Salem].  So Jada rushes off to help her and Sloan takes about eight seconds to work out that her shitty brother has been using Jada's sister as his accomplice.

She shares this information with Trask, who initially came here to do the two things she does best: ignore due process and gloat. And Trask is forced to concede that *okay, maybe Sloan didn't have anything to do with any of this, but when did that ever stop us from locking people up because we just don't like them?* Man, I want to like Trask. She's a fun character, played by a very capable performer. But sometimes this "overzealous DA" shit breaks me out of my soap bubble and harshes my buzz a little.

Jada confers with Talia and the two of them work out that Colin must be on the roof because Jada's a pretty good detective but also because *seriously there's only one hotel in town and he's been going on about rooftop tragedies and justice this entire time and can we just get on with this, please??*

So they head up there and we quickly find ourselves in a standoff: Jada holding a gun on Colin, with Talia flailing and weeping at her side. Colin still holding a gun on Paulina and ranting in Extreme British (eg, "oi, me mum's dead, innit!").

Chanel is also here. I guess.

At the hospital, Abe insists that Rafe find Paulina and then gives himself... I don't know, an aneurism or a stroke or something. And okay, it was a pretty intense line read, but that seems extreme.

Rafe discusses Abe's condition with an Actual New Doctor (Tripp is still out of town and Kayla's not in this one so I guess they had no choice) and she says the mayor will need surgery so can we please get his family to sign off on that? "Yeah, mentioning his family is kinda how we got in this situation in the first place," says Rafe. "Can I just call his son, who's offscreen in Johannesburg?"

Actual New Doctor knows this isn't, strictly speaking, the right way to handle this. But she'd also love to come back for more episodes so she says it's okay.

(Speaking of Quintessential Soap Moments, I bet if you asked ten people to draw what they think a soap opera is, like five of them would come up with something like this.)

And back on the rooftop, Talia charges Colin and they both plummet off the roof in an entirely plausible and completely-true-to-how-basic-physics-work moment.

(God, I'm glad I worked out how to do proper screencaps. I cannot imagine trying to convey this with a glare-filled camera-pointed-at-the-screen image.)

Sloan (whom Trask decided to release after all) and Eric are walking across the plaza with this very hotel in actual view. So I can only assume these two bodies are going to land right in front of them the next time we check back in on this plot.

But I know how this show works, and that probably won't be tomorrow because nothing exciting ever happens on a Wednesday.

EDIT: I have just been informed that, Lemon, today is only Monday. So maybe something will happen after all!

#Days of Our Lives #DOOL #soap opera #Peacock

[sn0tcl0wn]

long ass incoherent rant time because i'm tired of this bullshit:

i genuinely can't believe people still push the narrative that jocks are inherently egotistical assholes that get all the pussy while nerds are the overlooked underdogs women reject for shallow reasons. most jocks i know embody a certain level of friendliness and good vibes even if they're mean as hell or egotistical. meanwhile, a lot of self proclaimed nerdy guys are generally much moodier and harder to chat up on the fly.

jocks don't get girls because they're tall and buff (a lot of them are either super skinny or big boys tbh), it's because they give off positive energy, have a productive hobby, and actually want to talk to people. even if he is the worst dude alive, jocks are literally raised and trained to have positive outlooks, be personable, and to be team players. those are all very attractive traits they are literally supposed to have if they want to engage in team sports and shit.

and i know a lot of them are dicks, but when comparing my jocky friends to my nerdy ones, the jocks are actually some of the nicest, most upbeat and encouraging guys i know. those dudes are my hypemen even when i'm on my nerd shit while nerdy guys are either trying to use support as a method to get in my pants or just straight up don't care about it, especially if it's out of his scope of personal interest regardless of importance to me, their supposed friend. all my nerdy friends come to me for an uplift or to vent their frustrations with no desire for actual conversation. when we talk about art it's always what they feel they can't do or what they don't like. it's always so fucking negative all the goddamn time. i have never had this problem with jocks, if anything sometimes they're obnoxiously positive but i would rather that than have my soul sucked out by someone's misery or the fact they can't hold a discussion unless it's solely about their interests the way they like it and how everyone else sucks.

not to mention, if i hang out with my jock friends, the chances of them switching up on me the second we're alone are way slimmer. either they were always horny for me or they really do view me as their boy and don't let appearances determine how they treat me because they actually get to know me. nerds, on the other hand, act like your friend for months or even years consistently pushing how they just wanna be your friend or playing shit off as they get closer to you and figure out an in and the moment they get you alone the mask gets ripped off and if you don't reciprocate they get angry. like at least when i turn down jocks, 9 times outta 10 they take it with stride and, unless they're truly stupid and think i'm playing hard to get, they don't pursue any further. worst case scenario he calls me a fat, ugly slut and inform me at least twice that he can fuck whoever he wants while i ignore his texts.

and none of this is to say i haven't been harmed, harassed, or generally fucked over by jocks and i'm fully aware of the toxicity in the culture, but at the same people in general are willing to accept this. society doesn't actually pressure women and afab people to date jocks, they pressure us to give the pathetic nerd a chance because he was brave enough to make a gross sexual comment about you and pass it off as asking you out. i'm just sick of it.

maybe it's because i'm generally considered a jock irl but i'm sick of the slander from fucken dweebs when my worst bullies and abusers were always fuckin nerds. even the worst adults in my life. nerds. all of them. proud and loud about. everything from cosplayers to gamers to larpers; the absolute worst interactions i've ever had were in nerd spaces. meanwhile, after about age 15, nothing jocks said or did were of any significance and they usually didn't care enough to cause actual harm. they grew up and their breed of torment really is usually immature bullshit caused by an inflated ego thanks to the trophies. nerds have no reason to have those egos but they actually grow worse after age 15 and often become demons in their 20s while most jocks either end up being clueless burnouts who peaked in hs or the kind of person you find yourself admiring because their vibes are immaculate and they take good care of themselves.

i don't hate nerds because that's hypocritical and i don't hate myself or any of the wonderful women, non cishet men, and NB/genderqueer people during my lifetime being deeply engrossed in the culture. it's the Straight Men™️ and the pick mes who want their approval, but really but when we complain about jocks we mean the same brand of dude anyway so idk why nerd guys are still treated like some kind of special case where if they muster the courage to speak to you or you're nice to them for more than three seconds, you need to give him a chance.

do we really have to pity them because they're kinda creepy and like sitting on their ass and shooting virtual bad guys and watching weird shit in the spare time they have way too much of ?????? i just do not get it and i'm sick of my friends and me being called shallow whenever we say we don't even wanna hang out with those guys, let alone date them.

#every group has assholes and scumbags and abusers etc etc #why do nerds get a special pass for doing shit that would clearly not fly w the general public if any normie did it ?????????????????? #long post #rant

[1zukuz]

THEIR S/O IS A SIMP

KENMA, SUNA, HINATA, ATSUMU, BOKUTO, SAKUSA

INCLUDES: swearing, pregnancy talk for bokuto, just fluff <3

"WHY'RE YOU CRYING?" kenma softly asks, wiping away tears with his sleeve. the light glow of the T.V illuminating both of your faces, his concerned one and your watery smile plastered on your lips. you sniffle and shrug, averting your eyes sheepishly. "i dunno...you were just really sweet just now." kenma gave you a blank look, blinking for what seems like eternity. was this how low the bar has gotten? "all i did was ask if you wanted the sims." "'n i do! you read my mind!" kenma stumbles back against the couch, your arms laced around him while sitting in his lap. his cheeks warm and he rubs circles in your back like always, the feeling familiar yet foreign to him. how you loved him so much to shed tears over him would never fail to make his heart pound. "love you, ken." "i love you too. i'll buy you anything you want."

"OH, SUNA, Y/N HAS TOLD ME SO MUCH ABOUT YOU!" surprisingly relaxed, suna grips your hand while eating a slice of pie, a lazy handsome smile adorning his face. you freeze, sending pleading looks to your mom who only grinned back mischievously. "really? what about?" he asks, but only looking at your cute embarrassed expression. he wished he could take a picture of it in his mind, save the memory forever. "oh, just the usual! 'mom, i'm in loveee~' or 'mom i'm gonna have his kidsss~" "MOTHER!" you yelp, releasing your boyfriends hand and covering your face. suna's quiet laughter followed. "or my favorite, 'mom, i don't ever wanna see him with anyone else, i've been in love with him since 5th grade: now he's all mine.'" had this woman kept transcripts of your conversations with her?! you spared a glance at your boyfriend with hands still covering your face. his chin rested in his hand as his eyes filled with love, laughing lightly. your mom only smiled, feeling satisfied.

"AH, HINATA, 'M SO PROUD!" the orange middle blocker hugged you tightly and smiled in your neck. he had just won another game, finally returning home. though his muscles and feet killed him, you both seemed to run on the adrenaline that was his latest victory. you pull away from his grasp, grabbing his cheeks, describing how well he played. "and then he tried to block you, but nope! my baby got through and-" stopping your rant mid sentence he kisses you, panting breaths and all. smiling gleefully he gripped your waist tighter as if you were going to float away. you pulled away after a few seconds, peppering his face in kisses. "c'mon, you don't wanna keep the food waiting!" "aw, sunshine, you shouldn't have! thanks!"

ATSUMU blinks, the mess of the kitchen making him snort and then immediately stops once he notices your small pout while seated on the ground. he drops his duffel bag at the door and sits next to you, a deformed red cake in front of you. putting his arm around you he stifles laughter and you pout more, leaning on his shoulder. "ya wanna talk about it or do ya just wanna sit here with flour on our asses." sighing, you rubbed your eyes. "i was trying to make you a cake...it was gonna be a heart with our initials... but then the fuckin' cake cutter broke, put too much frosting and-" atsumu's blood runs cold. shit. was it a special occasion? anniversary? holiday? "sorry to cut ya off, angel, but... what for? what's today?" he asks quietly, afraid of the backlash. you look up at him, a confused tilt of your head. "huh? no, todays nothing special. just wanted to do something for you. but it failed!" you wail, looking at the sad lump of cake. atsumu's infamous contagious smile graces his lips as he pulls you in a bone crushing hug. "yer gonna make my heart explode, y'know that? stop being so fuckin' cute, angel."

"BO, HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT? WAIT, DO YOU EVEN WANT KIDS?" you ask, playing with his fingers while he laid your head in your lap. "of course i want kids! your kids, of course!" his pretty smile in the golden hour glow made your heart throb out of your chest. "mm... i've always dreamed about having four. maybe even fi-" "okay, i'm gonna be stretched out and butt-fuck ugly by the time we get two." bokuto shoots up from your lap, a frown on his usually enthusiatic face. "not true! take it back!" your smile only widens. "it is true." "is not." "is too!" "is not!" you laugh at his determination, his frown melting away at the sound. "you're too cute, kou. love you so much," suddenly feeling soft, you crawl into his lap instead, not letting go of him for the world. the worlds strongest people couldn't pull you away from him, not when the warm fuzzy feeling you get around koutarou, your koutarou, was much stronger. bokuto, confusingly looks down at your blissful face. "thought we were arguing..."

SLUMPING FURTHER INTO HIS FRAME, sakusa thinks his day can't get any worse. "spoke too soon," he gruffly mutters, coming home to an empty house. he knows it empty because none of the T.V's are on, nor is your sweet perfume gracing his nose while you call out 'omi!'. that was all he wanted. all he wanted, universe! why couldn't it grant him one simple thing for his shit day- "omi? sorry, i was pickin' up something to surprise you!" you happily say from behind him, his thoughts deafening him from the apparent door opening and you slipping inside. in one smooth motion, he drops his things and wraps his arms around you, breathing out against your shoulder. kiyoomi didn't even care if you hugged back or not, just finding your presence comforting. "hi, love." "hi, baby. but look, look at what i got!" pulling out of his grasp, you slide out a black MSBY jersey. it was an exact copy of his, though in your size. "we're gonna match at your next game! oh and," your smile dropped into a pleading look, looking in his eyes like he hung the moon, stars and sun himself. "i'm sorry i couldn't go to your last ones, felt guilty about it all day." stroking his cheek with your thumb, sakusa sighs and nods wordlessly. who knew his shit day could be fixed in the span of five minutes.

taking requests ! ! :P

#sakusa x reader #atsumu miya x reader #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #sakusa fluff #miya atsumu #haikyuu suna #suna rinatro #hinata shōyō #hinata shoyo x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #haikyuu fluff #atsumu fluff #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #msby atsumu #hinata shouyou #suna rintaro fluff #rintarou x reader #hq shoyo #haikyuu koutarou #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #fluff fanfic #anime #haikyuu anime

[unabashednightmarepizza]

Requested by: @readingfromdarkness

Synopsis: Being a demon- a real one- didn't mean you didn't have any motherly love inside of you. Seeing those two little ones in the harsh winter did something to you though.

ೃ⁀➷PART 2

Word Count: 2,5+

WARNINGS: Creepy man, Slight Spoilers of Daki and Gyutaro's Past

Notes: I really don't know what format this is, I just did something and I don't know if that's good...

Would anyone like me to continue this story? Like other parts of you and them together, cute moments etc.?

Taglist: @camerondiaz48104

ೃ⁀➷ Harsh winter was the worst. The harsh cold, unpleasant people who thought with their asses and not their brain and wearing tons of clothes to keep you warm wasn't the greatest way to be classy though.

ೃ⁀➷ Even as a demon, and not those ugly ass canniballs, you couldn't help but shiver slightly.

ೃ⁀➷ It wasn't even your choice! Your father, the one and only the Devil, Lucifer or whatever he was called as, just wanted to send you to surface to investigate that idiot who called himself as "the Demon King" and teach that punk a lesson.

ೃ⁀➷ Not your words! But your fathers.

ೃ⁀➷ You tsked at his behaviour and started to talk to yourself while hitting the snow piles in front of you out of boredom.

ೃ⁀➷ "You don't even know that this punk has been plaguing the entire Japan for thousands of years, dad! Humans even founded a Demon Slayer's Corps to defeat him..."

ೃ⁀➷"He surely has the balls to call himself as the Demon Lord, though... No wonder my dad was angry. I should probably find this Corps and talk to them...

ೃ⁀➷ You soothed your hair with your hands and started to quicken your pace to reach somewhere who at least had some people or a house to "rest".

ೃ⁀➷ your little companion was just behind you, wingling his tail happily and playing with the snow. The sight made you smile...

ೃ⁀➷" I guess, I'm not as demonic as I thought to be... No wonder my brothers kinda hate me..."

ೃ⁀➷ Your brothers always made fun of you for being more human than others. You were just more human when it came to children and women.

ೃ⁀➷ You walked through the now empty-looking streets of Red Light District.

ೃ⁀➷ Smelling every corner reek alcohol and lust made you cringe and pinch the bridge of your nose.

ೃ⁀➷You hurriedly turned from a corner to see a skeleton-like kid with something in his head.

ೃ⁀➷ And a man was standing in front of the kid(?) with his fists bloodied, apparently with the bloods of the boy

ೃ⁀➷ "You little bastard! Give what you took!"

ೃ⁀➷ You sighed boredly and tapped your feet against the ground, clicking your fingers to get the man's attention off the kid and on yourself.

ೃ⁀➷"Oi, dipshit! Why not fight with your equal? Or Is your power not enough?"

ೃ⁀➷The man turned to look at you, grinning in the most disgusting way ever.

ೃ⁀➷" A beauty like you shouldn't be worried about bastards like him... How about we spend a night together hehe...?"

ೃ⁀➷Yeah, definetly idiots...

ೃ⁀➷ " Look, I'm about to rip my immortal lungs out because of the amount of sighing I did today so let's get over with 'kay?"

ೃ⁀➷" You let the kid go, and I'll let you leave alive..."

ೃ⁀➷ To cut to the chase, the man was stupid and by doing something more stupid, he touched you...

ೃ⁀➷ And payed the price with his life.

ೃ⁀➷ You looked at the manlaying in front of you and put your hand on his chest ti feel a beat but upon sensing none, you turned to your hound and pointed to the man.

ೃ⁀➷" You know what to do, boy..."

ೃ⁀➷ Your eyes caught the kids little, very little, form and you crouched down to his level but he only barked threats at you

ೃ⁀➷" Go away, you old-hag! I'll kill you!"

ೃ⁀➷ You looked at the kid in amusement but seeing that he was still shivering, you took your coat off and put it around him to keep him warm

ೃ⁀➷ Which made the kid look at you confused

ೃ⁀➷ Eyeing his reaction, you realized that he hasn't seen any kindness which made a pang in your dead heart.

ೃ⁀➷Sighing to yourself, you hugged the kid close to you and wandered the streets and made small talk with him. At least tried to.

ೃ⁀➷ His name was Gyutaro and he had a sister named Ume whom he loved. There were other things he wasn't saying but fortunately, it wasn't hard for you learn them to. With a single touch, you saw his life so far... And for the first time in many years, you cried.

ೃ⁀➷ You saw how his mother treated him, how she tried to kill him countless times, how people threw insults at him, hit him and abuse the hell out of him just because of his looks, how his mother tried to kill his sister just because she looked like him...

ೃ⁀➷ And you felt the short-lived relief of him when the asshole of a mother died but soon it was replaced by the nerves when you saw the kids living on the streets.

ೃ⁀➷ Your vision ended there and begore you can wipe your tears, a small and weak hand touched your cold face.

ೃ⁀➷" Why are you crying... You aren't acting so powerful now..."

ೃ⁀➷ You looked at Gyutaro longer, making him look at you weirdly and started to notice little things about him.

ೃ⁀➷ For one, he didn't have any clothes and he was sick, you could sense it. The kid never had a shower in his time, and because of the lack of care and hygiene, he had a sick look.

ೃ⁀➷" Hey, kid... Where is your sister?"

ೃ⁀➷ And with that, you found the other pea as well. And just like that, your mother instincts went overdrive.

ೃ⁀➷You put Gyutaro down and he immediately went to his sister with the long cape but stopped abruptly to look back at you and then the cape. Seeing that he was taking it off, you stopped him with touching his head and ruffled his hair.

ೃ⁀➷"It's yours now. Keep and engulf your sister with it."

ೃ⁀➷ You watched him go behind her to wrap it around her smaller body and groaned at the thought that crossed your mind.

ೃ⁀➷ "I hope Father will not be angry because I already adopted these kids..."

ೃ⁀➷ That caught the attention of both of them and Ume looked at you with tears in her eyes and a hopeful smile on her face.

ೃ⁀➷ you smiled and said, "Yes, kid. I'll make you comfortable but I need to warn you about..."

ೃ⁀➷You sensed a venomous and obnoxious aura near you which made you halter. Seeing the look on your face, the kids fudgeted nervously but you smiled at them and took them in between your arms.

ೃ⁀➷ Opening a portal to Underground, you eased the kids and patted their heads, turning to look over your shoulder, you spoke to "so-called-demon".

ೃ⁀➷ "Go and tell your idiotic master that the King of Hell and his children will come after him if he dares to call himself "The Demon King" one more time..."

ೃ⁀➷"And if he will act like spoiled brat who throws a tantrum...

ೃ⁀➷" Here is the proof of the power we hold... Kibutsuji Muzan..."

ೃ⁀➷ Going through the portal, you didn't give a single thought about what was happening behind you, not aware that you made the demon's( who was ripped to shreds with just one look) master obsessed with you.

ೃ⁀➷ The kids didn't know what to expect. Maybe some lavas, or screams and skeletons but... Definetly not the luxurious red, black and golden palace.

ೃ⁀➷ They looked around in wonder, confused as to why a rich woman like you suddenly decided to adopt them. And you said the King of Hell and his children... So were you one of those kids? Were you a demoness?

ೃ⁀➷"Miss... Are you a real demon? Are you gonna hurt us?" said Ume with fear in her voice. You knitted your brows and looked down at them.

ೃ⁀➷" Yes and no. I adopted you two, right? I don't want to hurt you and I wont."

ೃ⁀➷ They nodded their head silently but Ume, for some reasons, liked to talk to you so she asked countless questions.

ೃ⁀➷" How many siblings do you have?"

ೃ⁀➷"Is the King really that terrifying?"

ೃ⁀➷"Are we gonna meet them...?"

ೃ⁀➷ You laughed awkwardly and nodded your head at them, smiling softly. You watched them have a little argument about the power and strength your father held and from the corner of your eye, you could see the guards trying hard to not to laugh. Witnessing the joy they had already brought here made you feel relaxed.

ೃ⁀➷Though it didn't last long since you came face to face with the gate to the throne room. You frowned and put the kids down, crouching in front of them, you looked straight into their eyes.

ೃ⁀➷" Ok, kiddos... Now we'll see my Father so try not to catch attention, okay? My siblings will also be there so if you ever feel overwhelmed, just tell me."

ೃ⁀➷ As soon as you finished talking, the gates opened to reveal your father sitting in his throne. You bowed your head in acknowledgement and stood tall, not wavering in front of his intense gaze. He asked what you did about Kibutsuji Muzan and after explaining everything you learnt, your Father hummed, thinking about what to do.

ೃ⁀➷" Go and talk to that leader of the Corps. Even if we're supposedly bad guys, we can't let a brat stain us..." You nodded your head and moved a bit to hide the kids behind you but your father was quick to understand,

ೃ⁀➷ You can't trick the King of Hell, after all.

ೃ⁀➷"Why are there mortals with you, my daughter?"

ೃ⁀➷ You stiffened at the mention of kids and the little ones grabbed the back of your dress thightly in their hands because of the stares of your siblings. One of them scoffed and said that this was expected of a traitor which your Father turned to look at but you didn't hesitate to address the kids right.

ೃ⁀➷" They're my children, Father."

ೃ⁀➷ All of your siblings widened their eyes with shocked stares and your Father raised an eyebrow in amusement at their reaction.

ೃ⁀➷" DID YOU SLEEP WITH A HUMAN?!!"

ೃ⁀➷"WAS HE GOOD?!!"

ೃ⁀➷"Damn, even I didn't see that one coming..."

ೃ⁀➷ You slapped your forehead because of the embarresment, feeling a slight burning on your face. How the hell is this even possible?!

ೃ⁀➷" Enough. Stop embarrassing your older sister. And children come closer, guards! You may go."

ೃ⁀➷ Without a repeat, they exited the throne room and you ushered the kids behind you to follow you. With an encouraging smile you pushed them to your father who already crouched down- wait... CROUCH DOWN?!!

ೃ⁀➷ The almighty Devil, the King of Hell was crouching down with his arms wide open , wearing a proud and happy smile.

ೃ⁀➷ You looked at him weirdly and in slight worry. Did something happen while I was gone? He has never been soft... What. The. FUCK?

ೃ⁀➷ But your father didn't wait for a moment and smoothered their cheeks, hugging them close to himself.

ೃ⁀➷" You don't know how happy you made me (Y/N)!! They have great potential and look at them! They are cute and they're my first grandchildren! I wait the same effort from the others too!"

ೃ⁀➷The events that happened after was a blur. Your siblings, who made fun of you for being soft with humans, gathered around your children, cooing at them while you stand there shocked to your core and sulking. Eventually your Father wanted to learn about what happened to them and after telling them, you saw that their true evil sides were coming out.

ೃ⁀➷ You immediately took the kids and gave them an awkward laugh.

ೃ⁀➷" Sooo... hehehe... I'll go show them their rooms, clean and give them new clothes Father, dear siblings! Uh... Goodbye!!"

ೃ⁀➷ You walked back to your room in hurry and closed the door behind you, knowing that in the mortal world, there's gonna be a massacre.

ೃ⁀➷ You took the kids to give them a bath and after scrubbing every part of their bodies and giving them their new clothes, you brought them back to your room. Gyutaro was giving you a hard time but he still obliged. Ume though, she was a sweetheart, wanting to play in the water. You wiped a fake happy tear from your eye and grabbed your chest from where your heart was and awed at them. You could see Gyutaro blushing, having a happy smile too.

ೃ⁀➷ You explained what would happen from now on and gave them to choose what they wanted. They immediately chose to be with you, being happy that someone took them in and love them.

ೃ⁀➷ You smiled and looked at Gyutaro to take his permission to look over his body. Albeit hesitantly, he let you and you looked at his scars

ೃ⁀➷" These are mostly because you didn't have any good food. I believe you two will get better in no time!"

ೃ⁀➷ he looked at you, shying away and said, "But... it'd take months for them to heal and you'd get tir-"

ೃ⁀➷"Time works different here, kids so it will not be months but like a few weeks to you." You smiled softly and brushed their hair. When a knock reached to your ear, you went to open your door. Seeing your most royal servent with two plates full of food, you smiled in gratitude.

ೃ⁀➷"My Lord said that all of these are theirs and to eat their heart's content. A tailor will come tomorrow to take their meassurements, my lady. And he also requested for you to tell them it was their grandpa's first gift." he said while stiffling his laugh.

ೃ⁀➷ You rolled your eyes at him and thanked him. Closing the door behind you, you set the plates on the table in your room, pointing with your head to them to come and eat.

ೃ⁀➷ They sat at the table and looked at you hesitantly. They never had that much of a good meak before so they weren't sure if these were all for them.

ೃ⁀➷"They are from your... Grandpa and all of them are yours. So eat them up!"

ೃ⁀➷ And with tears in their eyes and gratitude in their hearts, they ate and talked to you. After putting them to sleep since today was a hard and long day for them, you watched them sleep in peace.

ೃ⁀➷ Already making a vow to protect them...

ೃ⁀➷And that was how your adventure of motherhood had begun...

#demon slayer x reader #kny imagine #kny x reader #anime #daki x reader #gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #daki and gyutaro #nightmare's 100+ event #♡demon momma au

[fitzells]

OKAY, A REQUEST, okay ~

Could I please have a Mitch Rapp with the prompt "I know you said we're not friends, or anything... but I'm here if you need someone to talk to." 💕

someone to talk to, mitch rapp

notes: hi! trying to be active on here for a while (I have covid so I have lots of free time) this is not proof read and I am very loopy on medication so I'm so sorry if this sucks! initially this was supposed to be a lot fluffier but it just developed into angst, angst and more angst! also requests are open so keep 'em coming

word count: 600+

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mild cursing, major angst

“I know you said we’re not friends, or anything, but I’m here if you need to talk.”

He leaned against your doorframe, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you; knees tucked up to your chest, chin perched upon your arms. His heart ached at the sight of you, with your tear lined eyes and wounded face. He shouldn’t have let you go, he didn’t care that you were just as if not more experienced than him, or that you guys supposedly hated each other's guts. You were his partner, and he let you leave his sight. He was the reason you’d been kidnapped, and almost tortured to death; it was all his fault.

Mitch couldn’t handle losing you, he wouldn’t survive it. He’d lost almost everybody he had ever loved, and he didn't know what he would do if he had to deal with having your blood on his hands as well.

You looked up at him from across the room, his gruff words cutting through the quiet sounds of your whimpers; the small gesture didn’t go unnoticed by you, he wasn’t usually your go-to for a shoulder to cry on. However, as much as you thought he hated you, on a deeper level, you knew that he would always look out for you. The sight of him made the distinct feeling of despair flood your senses all over again. Seeing all of the bruises and gashes littering his body, from his face down to his bare torso — ones that would undoubtedly scar — and having to know that they were all caused by you. He had to save your ass, yet again, because you were reckless; all you had wanted to do was save as many innocent people as you could, and yet, you put your partner, and the entire team in even more danger.

Your face crumpled up as a stream of salty tears flowed down your cheeks, a shaky hand coming up to cover your mouth whilst ugly sobs flew past your lips. You wanted to scold yourself for being so weak, but all you could think about was how petrified you were, how ill, and frail those assholes had made you. Their torture played on your mind constantly, over and over again like a broken record. You felt so stupid.

Your cries became fiercer, causing Mitch to become more alert, slowly walking over to you, as though to make sure you weren’t startled. Sitting down beside you, he pulled you into his chest; one large hand knotted into your messy hair as the other rubbed soothing circles on your back. He rested his chin on top of your head, fingers trailing up and down your spine carefully.

“You can’t blame yourself for this.” He muttered quietly.

“None of this was your fault.” He added, his words muffled as he moved his lips to your hairline, not pressing a kiss in their wake, just leaving them there. Your salty tears wet the crook of his neck, as your hands balled into fists on his lap.

“I’m so scared.” You whimpered, your trembling hands coming up to cover your face. You shook in his hold, panicked wails being muffled into his neck as he gently shushed you. “I hate feeling like this, I’m just- I feel so weak.”

He shook his head, moving away from you slightly to cup your face in his hands. “You’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“You don’t have to be scared.” He promised, whiskey hued eyes staring into your bloodshot ones. “You’re more than able to protect yourself.”

His thumbs swept under your eyes to collect the pool of tears that lay there, as he gave you an undoubtedly small, but nonetheless reassuring smile. “And when you’re not able to protect yourself, I’ll be there. I promise.”

#mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp fluff #dylan o brien imagine #dylan o'brien fluff #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles x reader #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp gif #mitch rapp x oc #mitch rapp #joel dawson imagine #sam taylor #mitch rapp x y/n #thomas tmr imagine #teen wolf #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o brien #dylan o brien icon #dylan o’brien icons #dylan o’brien gifs #masterlist #fluff #angst #imagine #mitch rapp blurb

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

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