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#the natural order is being threatened
highvern · 20 days
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i missed scoups so much but he is single handedly threatening nearly a decade of favoritism for wonwoo
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acrobattack · 2 months
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i don’t know if this is a hot take or not but the rr/b skew more neutral than evil to me
#at least when they’re just on their own and not actively following the orders of grown-ass lunatics#they could objectively be doing worse#but the way they’re written they’re just really obviously kids with no actual guidance trying to have fun#the most actively evil thing they’ve done is pay lip service to destroying the power/puff girls sometimes#and then just never really. attempt it?#and i’m comparing this to the ppnkg who actually Are evil#arguably Also because of the way they’re raised but still#their actions lean more actively dangerously malicious than an annoying child with powers spiting you because you happened to buy a soda#all of this to say i just don’t buy when people refer to them as irredeemable or naturally immoral or anything#i think they’re naturally *mischevious* but as far as them maturing/the possibility of being rehabilitated#realistically they could truly go either way#this isn’t really a response to any particular takes i’ve seen though i’m just rambling#bubble journal#i know a lot of people don’t like that about them and want them to be more threatening#i personally like it a lot though i mean it’s definitely how I would’ve written characters like them i think#and i think making them shittier would just turn them into full ppnkg clones#and it would also make less sense for the girls to even let them keep living if they were full-on horrible constantly#like . kill them!?!?!!?!?!? are you nuts!!!?!!!!!!?!?#that’s like an av3ngers level threat you’re letting run around town
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rubberbandballqueen · 2 years
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yesterday at work, i was left in charge of the kids all by myself for the first time, so i did that thing i always do, where i get over-the-top excited about talking and playing with them, and i remember there was this one little boy drawing dragons in the back who remembered n recognized me from summer camp who watched with dawning horror as he said, "oh no... they're weird"
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dorminchu · 4 months
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kirby and guts berserk. there's no punchline. I just want to see them interact with each other.
an unstoppable force of vengeance running on fumes versus an immovable object/superpowered alien from another dimension that simply wants to be friends.
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tired-biscuit · 3 months
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i want to ride yuuji so bad and then start crying cause he’s so thick and big and then have his strong arms wrap around me and then he starts thrusting up and we’re both drooling and moaning that would be a dream
18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: good girl, good girl, GOOD GIRL!
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he’s cooing at you while caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears away, and it’s all so goddamn sweet that it outright hurts; in a good way, though.
always in a good way when it’s with him.
especially because he does it so effortlessly? being kind is like second nature to someone like yuuji and it’s hard not to melt into a puddle of gooey emotions and spill even more tears when he’s looking up at you with hearts in his warm honey-coloured eyes and there’s this prominently lovestruck look on his face that makes him look even dumber than he already is.
but he’s also cute, awfully so. his hair is an absolute mess, his lips are in the colour of dark pink from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed, and his skin burns so hot that he’s sweating like crazy underneath the thick hoodie that he’s still got on. you’ve been in such a rush to get him inside you that you’re both still completely dressed, aside from the bits of clothing that have been tugged down and pushed to the side in order to make the entire thing easier for you, of course.
however, having all these layers on is simply excruciating. the heat makes him pant and causes his chest to heave in a faster rhythm than normal; and all those breaths make it somewhat hard to get all the praise that he feels for you out of his system.
but yuuji is no quitter. so he swallows the runny saliva that keeps on gathering in his mouth between sentences and threatens to spill past the corner of his lips. it’s audible and it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet he still manages to thank you in hushed, trembling whispers and broken grunts and moans.
he thanks you for being such a good girlfriend; for being so willing to give it a chance when it comes to riding him and taking him in all the way, despite the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since he’s taken your virginity and your most sensitive parts are still sore and tender from all the gentle pounding — but pounding nevertheless — he had done after getting his first taste.
you feel heat sear your face as you listen to the jumble of gratitude he’s putting before you and look at him from underneath your lashes, trying to not pay mind how tears still cling to them as stubbornly as ever.
this entire thing has not gone the way you’ve imagined it to go at all and it’s frustrating as hell. and how couldn’t it be? i mean, you’ve known how big he is, have known how it feels to have him inside you, but jesus fucking christ, this position is nowhere as easy as missionary had been — and even then you’d struggled a great deal.
because now, you’re the one who has to do all the work while he sits there, looking pretty, sometimes eyeing how your arousal glistens on his pubic hair, even though your clit hasn’t come anywhere near to kissing the spot from how much of a hard time you’re having when it comes to sitting on his dick entirely.
if only you could just—
“hey,” he says the word with such care as he cups your cheek that it sends butterflies twirling in your belly. his hand is just so big, it urges you to pet yourself against it like a little kitty. “you okay?” yet another look that’s brimming with concern is thrown your way. “we don’t have to do this if it’s too much, you know… just tell me.”
“did you really mean all that?” you mumble the exact moment his hands reach for your hips, clearly aiming to manhandle you into a position that you’d be able to endure a bit better.
“mean what?” he asks, glancing downwards just for a second as your hands stop his own. his cock twitches in response — he’s always been such a sucker for hand holding and this time is no exception. when your fingers intertwine, his heart sings in answer.
“that i’m a good girl?” the eye contact that you initiate in return is determined instead of anxious all of a sudden and it makes his pupils visibly dilate right in front of you.
it seems like you’re no quitter either.
“‘course i did,” yuuji replies in a heartbeat, cherishing how you squeeze around him whenever he gives you his approval, his praise. “you’re such a good girl, my good girl, the goodest girl to ever walk the good girl planet... they should make you mayor of goodie town.”
you giggle at that and his smile quivers with pleasure from how it makes your pussy tighten even more. he’s doing everything he can not to grab you, press you against his chest and just follow instinct and start slamming away.
maybe next time… maybe you’ll be ready for it next time.
“you’re so silly,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, though this time on the forehead. his skin tastes salty, and while it may be wrong, knowing that you’re not the only one that’s having a hard time right now makes you feel just a little bit calmer.
unbeknownst to you, the fact that you’re more relaxed allows you to take yet another inch of him inside you. your muscles slacken and his fat cockhead drags against your walls as a result, slipping and pushing in, in, in. the ring of cloudy white slick forms just a little below the lower half of his cock now, stretching you further and making your tummy feel hot and tingly.
it’s definitely progress.
and it makes poor yuuji moan straight into your mouth.
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xo-cod · 7 months
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141 + reader
hc's when you five share the barracks together/just in general <3 (ooc, rushed my bad lmao, can be read platonically/romantically, reader is v close to them!!) kinda long oops 😩 might do a part 2 idk
nsfw version 🩷
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there's a whole lot of testosterone and musk in the air when you're sharing living spaces with 4 men ‼️
all four men compete with each other to get your attention, even if it's unknowingly
whole lotta pouting when you're spending time with more man than the other, you're a great companion ;) and the army is lonely. they all need equal love and attention
speaking of, if you're smelling like one of them the other will immediately bundle you in his arms to put his scent on you instead and to cancel out the other (alpha behaviour 😵‍💫)
whole lotta flirting from each of them. they're all very intelligent soldiers, they know exactly what to say to get you going 😙
all of them adore the height difference with you. you get teased about it relentlessly (out of love obvi)
i don't think they're particularly messy men but ghost and gaz are the most cleanest, they like having their things in order and knowing where everything is
price is next because he's slumped with being captain so you'll see a lot of his paperwork around with coffee mugs from pulling all nighters
soap is more organised mess. it might look messy to you but he knows exactly where everything is
you, soap and gaz definitely have rap battles late at night. it starts of quiet but you'll usually hear price shouting at you three from his bedroom to stfu. ghost threatens to pull a grenade if you don't be quiet
assuming you're naturally a good cook, they'd all be so appreciative :") especially on bad days, your cooking reminds each of them of home (or lack of)
face masks! gaz would 100% be down to do them with you, soap would follow next because if gaz is doing it then he too???
ghost would roll his eyes, continuing polishing his guns with a rag "you ain't putting that muck on my face"
price would just look at you, shaking his head "got too much to do, sweetness"
but you're quite the convincer and all four men are on the floor of your bedroom, gossiping about the last mission with their preferred colour of face mask across their faces
assuming you're the only woman, they get very protective when you're hurt. soldiers get hurt from time to time but its different when it's you
"you alright, bonnie?" soap's gentle voice comes through your room as he hands you a warm mug of your fave drink
gaz had you wrapped in a big fluffy blanket, gently stroking your back
"who was it?" ghost's voice is firm, wanting to know who dared injured the youngest member of their team
"already got a handle on 'em" price follows, looking at the computer. whatever enemy dared to raise their hands on wished they'd be six feet under after all four men are done with them
you're the one each man needs when they're having a particularly bad day which are usually far in few between but sometimes it happens
gaz and soap are the types to seek you out, their faces settled in a troubled frown before they place their arms around you. no questions just yet, they just want to feel skin to skin for now. keeping them grounded before they can explain what happened. they're not looking for a fixer, just someone who'll listen
ghost and price are the type to isolate themselves for a while until it's night and then you'll find them gently knocking on your bedroom door and slipping inside, between your covers. their grip is strong, burying their faces deep into your neck whilst trying to wrap his arms as much as he can. these two won't talk much either, just looking to be held and stroked to calm down
ghost and soap are the type to show affection through lingering touches while gaz and price show affections through their words.
but speaking of hugs, each of them have their own special way they like to embrace
ghost thinks he's being slick but you realise just how touchstarved he really is, he gives hugs with his arms around your shoulders bringing you in to his chest. mostly because he's tall and broad but he likes how he can manhandle you from this position and smelling your scent <3
soap's the type to tackle you in a playful hug, maybe a spin to get a laugh out of you before he gently strokes your skin for a few seconds, a gentle kiss to your temple <3
price likes to hug from behind, resting his chin on your head while he looks at what you're doing. depending on you, his big arms are either wrapped on your waist or your shoulders <3
gaz gives side hugs because he likes linking his arm around your hips and he likes how you fit snugly into his body. and this way he can lean his head against yours and can bring you in closer with his other arm <3
all four can immediately smell you before you come in because they adore whatever perfume/spray you have
each of them would absolutely melt into pieces if you joined them/kept them company in what they were doing
and if they catch you in a towel after having a shower, best believe they're quickly walking back around to where they came from to help alleviate the growing... tent in their pants
lowkey kinda pervy 🫣 (never in a harmful way)
each of them have their strong points and would 100% train you in becoming stronger
even if you're a well established soldier, they all worry for your safety
price would teach you sniper techniques, ghost teaches you combat, gaz teaches you how to sharpen your aim and soap teaches you about explosives and how to construct/dismantle each of them
they take the training very seriously with you
a ton of cursing when their fave team loses lmaoo
if you're avid tea drinker, join the gaz/ghost/price club. if you're not, join the hater club with soap <3
ghost/gaz/soap will playfully fight with you, careful not to use their full strength and not to harm you. but it's so cute to them when you're struggling a little under them.
but when price scolds them in doing so, "i'm just helping in case there's an attack!"
if you're arguing against one of them, another will come to your defence. unless you're arguing all four then it's the silent treatment from you 🤭
all four of them melt when you call them by their real name instead of their callsign :")
ghost usually comes to you when his balaclava is broken and he'll keep you company as your fingers work their magic to the fabric, gently leaning against you as you speak to him
price will let you shape up his beard after you begging to do so and he grows to enjoy those tender moments
soap definitely calls for your help to shape up his mohawk, he trusts your hand to eye coordination above anyone elses
ghost will playfully ruffle your hair whenever you both pass each other
price gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder
gaz gives you a soft stroke on your arm or back whenever he's passing by
soap will gently tap his head against yours, not too hard to cause pain but just enough to know that he's there
but above all, the barracks you five share is definitely a safe space for each of them the second they come through the door <333
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euphorajeon · 1 month
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trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)
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— pairing: jk x f. reader
— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)
— word count: 12.4k
— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]
— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.
— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!
masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist
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There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)
Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)
Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.
With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.
“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.
“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”
“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”
“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.
You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”
“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”
“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”
His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”
“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”
Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.
“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.
“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”
The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??
Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.
Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.
As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.
Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.
As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.
When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.
Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.
You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.
“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”
“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”
“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”
Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.
“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”
“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”
“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”
In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.
He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?
Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?
His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.
Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)
Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?
Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.
Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.
Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.
“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”
“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.
“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”
“No worries, Kiddo.”
Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?
“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”
Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?
“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”
As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”
Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.
“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.
“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”
If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”
“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?
“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”
It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?
Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”
So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.
The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.
Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.
No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.
“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.
“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”
“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”
“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”
“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.
“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.
“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.
“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”
Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)
“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.
“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”
“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”
“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”
“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.
“What? He said it’s healing!”
It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.
After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”
You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.
Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”
“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.
“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”
“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”
“Yep.”
“Cool. See you then.”
Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.
“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”
“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.
“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”
“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”
(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)
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“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”
You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.
“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”
“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.
“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.
“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.
“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.
“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”
You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.
Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.
“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”
“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”
“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”
Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.
Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.
“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”
When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”
The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”
“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.
“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”
“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”
“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”
“JIMIN!”
When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”
So much for sound solution.
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You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.
“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.
Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”
“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”
“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.
“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”
“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.
With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”
“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.
Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.
“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.
“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”
“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”
You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”
In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.
It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:
Jeongguk’s hair is mint.
Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.
The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.
It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.
“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”
The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.
You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.
Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”
“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)
“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.
You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.
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After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.
Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.
Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.
You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.
You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.
“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.
You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.
When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.
You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.
Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.
As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.
When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.
“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”
“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”
“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”
“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”
You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.
“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”
Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.
The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.
Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.
Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.
The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.
Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.
“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.
“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.
“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.
So instead, you lash out at your boss.
“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.
The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”
“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”
Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.
“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.
“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.
“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.
Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”
Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.
Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”
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“Stop moving around!”
“It hurts!”
You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.
“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.
“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”
“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.
“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”
The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”
“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”
With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.
“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.
“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”
Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.
Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.
Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.
The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!
Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.
Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.
“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”
“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”
You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.
“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.
“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”
“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”
“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.
“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.
Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.
Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.
“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”
“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.
“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”
“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”
The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.
You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.
While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.
“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.
“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.
Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)
And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.
“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”
“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.
“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”
“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”
The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.
Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.
He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.
“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”
Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.
God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.
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Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.
“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”
There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”
“You want to injure your shoulder?”
He gives you a flat look. You giggle.
“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”
Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”
“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”
“What? To not be jealous of him?”
You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”
“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”
“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”
More silence ensues.
“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”
“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”
Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.
“How about an apology?” he offers.
“In what form?” you challenge.
“Round three?”
“No.”
Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.
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a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)
→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!
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prettyfastcars · 2 months
Text
hiding all of our sins | Mob!Lewis
Summary: Your father had a lot of enemies, and naturally after his death those enemies began pestering and threatening you. When your own home began to feel unsafe, you turned to Lewis for help. Lewis – your late father’s best friend and the only person in the world that you could trust. Lewis promises to take care of you, and reassures you that you’re safe with him. He seems like a perfect knight in shining armour, but he’s not exactly a saint… is he? Perhaps his chivalry masks an ulterior motive. 
Themes: mob!lewis, smut, fluff, praise kink, slight angst, mentions of death and violence, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), explicit language
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You always waited by the door for him. 
Lewis had been gone for quite some days this time. Usually his work trips are short, but he’d been gone for more than a week. You tried not to think about how miserable you’d been without him here. 
You sighed just thinking about how you spent your days all alone, with only the housekeeping staff around, in the big house. You weren’t complaining though, you were grateful for it. For everything Lewis gave you. The security, the warmth, a home where you weren’t paranoid all the time. 
You were grateful for Lewis. Sometimes you wondered what would’ve happened to you if he hadn’t offered a helping hand when he did. 
Lewis came into your life after your father’s passing. But your father always spoke of him. They were childhood best friends. They grew up together, and later on became powerful, rich, and Machiavellian rulers together as well. But Lewis moved away in order to expand his empire even more and never visited. 
He and your father kept in touch though. 
Your family was small, it was just you and your father. And he had kept you sheltered your entire life. So when time came to leave home and move for uni, it was hard on both of you. You’d never been out in the ‘normal’ world before, you were always homeschooled and your friends were always other homeschooled kids – whose parents were friends with your father. So your circle was small as well. 
And your father worried too much about you not being safe at home anymore. And unfortunately, he seemed to have worried himself to death. Because barely a year into uni, you received a call from home telling you that your father had passed due to a sudden heart failure. 
Your whole world came crumbling down then. You would’ve been buried beneath the rubbles as well had Lewis not offered you his helping hand at the right time. 
At your father’s funeral, that was the first time you’d met Lewis in real life. All this time he’d only ever been a voice on the phone. But he was there for you now. 
He was there for you all throughout the funeral, took care of the planning and everything. He stood with you and held your hand at the cemetery even after everyone was gone. Lewis was somehow always where you needed him to be. Right beside you. 
After your dad, it was up to you to handle all the businesses and what not. And you weren’t well equipped to do that. Plus, some people – rivals – saw it as an opportunity to scare you, hoping you’d offer them everything, give it all up and run. Some chose to appoint you as their new target, in place of your father: sending you threatening notes which always found their way into your car, your home, by the pool, everywhere. They also began poaching your staff, employees, even some of your guards. 
And your home didn’t feel safe anymore. You couldn’t sleep at night, hadn’t been able to for days because you were constantly worried about your safety. Every little sound, every little creak made you panic, made you think that someone was in your home and were about to hurt you. 
That’s when you turned to Lewis. 
And he was ever so kind to help. Within a day or two you had packed your whole life and moved in with Lewis, in his luxurious home. 
At first you thought it’d be awkward living with him. After all, you had never met him your whole life. He was much older than you, wiser too. And he was always calm, always knew what to do and what to say. He intimidated you at first. But then you got past the cold exterior, and he quickly became the warmest presence in your life. Comforting. Safe. 
And you wouldn’t lie, you had a silly crush on him. How could you not? He was handsome, and beyond charming. He had the most gentle voice, and the most addicting laughter. He had ink all over his smooth skin, and his hugs were soothing even though he had hard muscles all over. And he had the kind of smile that could make your knees weak. 
You were lost in thoughts of him, so much that you didn’t even realise the front door was opening up to reveal the man himself stepping into the house. 
“Lewis!” You squealed, running into his waiting, open arms. 
He laughed as he caught you, wrapping his big arms around you and holding you so close like he’d never let go. You buried your face into the cool material of his suit and breathed in his signature scent. Dark and powerful. 
“I’ve missed you too, princess.” He murmured against your skin as he kissed your forehead. 
“You’ve been gone for too long this time.” You whined against his warm neck, feeling the cold pearls of his necklace brushing against your mouth. You gave them a soft kiss without him noticing. Something about him always made you behave like a spoiled little princess, always wanting more of his time and attention, always whining and complaining. 
“I’m sorry,” He cupped your face so you’d look at him, “But I’m here now. Okay?” 
You nodded quickly, then smiled at him like he was all that mattered in the world. “Come, let’s eat.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him further into his home, towards the dining room. “I asked the chef to let me make dinner tonight.” 
“You did?” He let you drag him all the way to the dining room. 
The pride in his voice made you bloom. “I did! All by myself.” 
When he finally saw the dining table, he turned to face you with a gentle smirk. With his braids tied at the back like this, he looked younger than he was. “I love how extra you are, princess.” 
You led him to his chair and said, “I’m not extra, I just like using the fancy stuff.” 
He reached out and grabbed your wrist before you could turn around. Bringing your hand up to his soft mouth, kissing it and then he murmured, “Well, you laying the table with the fancy stuff is very much appreciated, princess.” 
You smiled at him again before you took your seat. He sat at the head of the enormous table, and you to his right. He asked you about how your week without him went while he poured wine into two glasses. He listened to your whining and complaining with a soft smile on his pretty face while you both ate. 
You asked him about his work and as usual, he gave you the briefest of details. When you pried some more he always told you that he would rather keep you as far away from that life as possible – like your father did. 
And then, of course, the mention and memory of your late father always put a pout on your lips and a frown on your face. Lewis hated it. So he reached for your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 
“I hate seeing you upset, princess.” He said, rubbing his thumb across your skin. Caressing it in a way that made you relax immediately. 
You let out a sigh. “I just wish he would’ve taught me how this world works.” You said, your tone full of regret. “Maybe I could’ve handled things on my own after he was gone, instead of piling all my troubles on top of you.” 
“Hey,” He said, rather sternly. “Look at me.” When you finally looked up from your plate, Lewis gave your hand another reassuring squeeze. “Your father wanted to keep you away from the dangers of this life. And I intend to keep you safe as well. As for handling things on his or your behalf, well it’s an honour.” 
You smiled at Lewis. A softer smile. There were instances like this one where all you wanted to do was climb onto his lap, wrap your arms around him and never let him go. “Thank you, Lewis.” 
“You know I’d do anything for you, princess.” He wanted to get rid of that sombre look on your face, so he suggested, “Now, how about we have a movie night?” 
Your face lit up immediately. “Okay, I’ll go get changed and make us snacks.” You spoke as you got up. 
Lewis got up as well, saying he’d meet you downstairs in the living room after a quick shower. 
— 
You rushed to your room and got changed into your most comfiest PJs, before almost running to the pantry in the kitchen to find the best snacks. You gathered your goods in the living room and waited for a few minutes, but Lewis didn’t come. 
So you walked back up, down the corridor and all the way to his room. You knocked twice before entering, then heard the shower going. You almost turned around to leave but then you caught the scent of his body wash – invigorating, appealing, earthy, and incredibly masculine. Somehow that made you stay. 
And instead of walking out of his bedroom, you threw yourself onto his comfy bed. You stretched and rolled around lazily like a sleepy kitten who’s found the most perfect sunlit spot. So there you stayed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and eventually drowned out the sound of Lewis’ shower.
A few minutes passed and you didn’t even realise that the shower had been turned off. The sound of the bathroom door knob turning made you freeze, and a second later Lewis was standing in front of you with only a towel wrapped around his waist. 
“I didn’t hear you come in.” He said, standing there in front of the bed with a playful smile on his face. You remained speechless. He added, “I noticed some of your stuff in my bathroom. Care to explain?” 
Your brain barely even registered the words that came out of his mouth because you were mesmerised by the sight of him. The water drops sliding down his abs, the tattooed skin glistening, and that damn towel wrapped so low, so carelessly. Your heart pounded. 
Lewis took a few steps forward, coming to a stop at the end of his king size canopy bed. He braced a muscular arm against one of the posts, “I also noticed some of your things on my bedside. And now that I think about it, there was also a ‘you’ size dent in my bed when I walked in.” He had that same boyish, playful smirk. “Did you nap in here, princess?” 
You finally peeled your eyes away from that deliciously distracting nautical compass tattoo in the middle of his chest, and stared into his dark brown eyes while his previous questions finally registered in your brain. The moment they did, you groaned and hid your face into a nearby pillow. 
Lewis laughed as he came to the side of the bed, reaching out to tickle you until you faced him again while laughing hysterically. “I’m sorry, okay?” You tried to run, but he grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you back, and ended up pinning you to his bed. “I’m sorry.” You repeated, giggling and now unable to hide. 
He pinned your wrists on either side of your head, leaning over you as he spoke. “I didn’t ask for an apology. You can do whatever you want in this house,” He smirked. “I asked for an explanation. Now, did you sleep in here while I was gone?” He prayed you didn’t look down, otherwise you’d see the huge bulge forming behind the towel. 
The thought of you in here? On his bed? Sleeping peacefully while he was away dealing with work? It made him puff up with how much he liked it. 
You groaned again, and tried to escape but he threatened to tickle you until you were breathless again so you finally confessed, “Okay fine, I slept here the whole time you were away.” You sounded a little embarrassed as you said so. 
“You did?” 
You nodded, looking up sheepishly at him. “It helps.” You said. You couldn’t get over how good he looked above you. 
Lewis frowned. “Sleeping in my bed helps? With what?” 
You whined in embarrassment, then said, “You know, the funny feeling.” 
“What funny feeling, princess?” 
Instead of talking, you twisted your hand free from his grasp and held his hand while you guided it over to where you wanted. You urged his hand to cup you in between your legs. Lewis sucked in a sudden breath as he did, cupping you through the satin shorts of your PJs. 
“Right here?” He questioned with a deeper, raspier voice, looking up to meet your eyes. He found you with parted lips and a hazy look in your eyes. You nodded at his question. “And you get this often?” 
“Only when I think of you.” 
His fingers gave you an experimental squeeze, pressing into your clothed flesh. And you gasped at the foreign but welcomed feeling. 
“Well then, I better see what this is about.” 
You watched how he let go of your wrists, grabbed the waistband of your shorts and slowly dragged them down your legs. He threw them behind him somewhere before placing his warm, rough and tattooed hands on your thighs, spreading them. 
You gasped as he slid a gentle finger up and down your slit through your thin underwear. You watched his tattooed finger moving slowly in between your shaking thighs, and when you looked up you found him staring down at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes. 
“Please.” You murmured. 
Lewis smirked. It felt like a warning for the coming danger. “And this funny feeling… how did it go away, princess?” 
You whimpered both under his touch and at his question. 
When you didn’t respond, he leaned down and mumbled as he kissed along your exposed throat. “Answer me.” 
You whimpered at the tone of voice he used, which made you grind against his finger instinctively. “I… I took care of it.” 
“How?” He kissed his way up to your chin, biting your skin playfully and making your back arch off the bed. “Hmm?” He sounded almost stern again. “Show me how you did it.” 
He pulled away then, his finger no longer touching your skin as he stood on the side of the bed. You looked down and that towel around his waist was ready to come undone at any moment. And that made you clench your thighs tighter together. 
“Show you?” 
“Mhmm,” He nodded. “I wanna see.” 
The look in his eyes gave you a strange rush. Like a boost of confidence. So you held his stare as you took the rest of your clothes off, dropping them carelessly on the bed before you grabbed the nearest pillow and straddled it. 
You watched how his breathing deepened, even when he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the bed posts. Like he wanted a show. 
So you gave him one. You humped his pillow right in front of him until you were a moaning, whimpering mess. Your fingers naturally found their way to your breasts, fondling and toying with them as you moved your hips, grinding on the pillow. 
You were carried away by the satisfying feeling in between your thighs. Your eyes were closed the whole time, so you didn’t see him as he moved closer. You only realised he was indeed close to you again when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, preventing you from moving. 
You opened your eyes and found Lewis’ face mere inches away from yours. You were breathing heavily, and he looked like he was barely able to hold back. 
“So this is what you did while I was gone?” 
You nodded. 
“And did you think of me when you came? Each time?” His voice was almost unrecognisable. Deep. Dangerous. 
You nodded again. 
Lewis frowned like he was in pain. “Oh princess…” He whispered, leaning in just enough so that when he spoke, his lips brushed against your parted ones. “Now, can you do what you did to the pillow but on my face?” He asked, so casually that it took you a moment to process his words. 
“What?” 
He smirked again, “You heard me. Come sit on my face.” 
You barely had time to be coy. He was already moving into the position he wanted, with you holding onto the headboard and kneeling on the bed while his face found its way in between your thighs. 
You’d never been this intimate with anyone before, and Lewis sensed your brief hesitation. But then he kissed your inner thighs as you hovered above him and he said, “It’s okay, princess. It’s just me. I’m dying to see what you taste like.” His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place as he urged you to lower yourself down to his waiting mouth. He lifted his head up just a little to give your pussy a soft kiss. “This belongs to me, don’t keep it from me. Now sit.” 
You whimpered as you did. And he was ready for it, his eager mouth latched onto your clit and he worked his mouth like his life depended on it. Sucking and licking and shoving his tongue past your wet folds, occasionally moving his head side to side.
You moaned out loud, throwing your head back as your hands held onto the headboard for support. His tongue worked wonders against your sensitive clit, making you feel all tingly and warm as you dripped all over his mouth.
“You taste so fucking good, princess…” he murmured against your wetness as you gently rolled your hips against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lips and chin, grinding against his tongue like you did the pillow. His teeth grazed your swollen, sensitive clit until he had you moaning loudly against him.
Your hips moved against his face as he licked each and every drop of what you gave him. 
“Fuck, princess.” He groaned, closing his eyes and humming loudly at your taste. He adored the sounds you made above him. He even forgot that he was himself throbbing with need because he was determined to make you come. He’d dreamt of this, of having your thighs wrapped around his head and to taste you and make you come all over his tongue. “Come for me, baby.” He whispered. 
You were so close even he could feel it. Your thighs clenched around his head even harder. His hands rubbed up and down your skin, caressing you as he tasted you leisurely like he had all the time in the world. 
You looked down at one point and found him with his eyes closed, enjoying himself, happy to be there and that did it. You came with a loud cry, grinding harder against his tongue. You were shaking, trying to calm down after that mind bending orgasm, and before you knew it Lewis was behind you. 
Kneeling behind you with his legs outside of yours, that damn towel discarded, his warm chest pressing into your back. His arms wrapped around you and his mouth kissed your neck from behind. 
“You taste like heaven, princess.” He mumbled into your ear, his hand drifting down your body to tease your clit again while his other hand wrapped around your throat. “I’m gonna fuck this delicious little pussy now, okay?” 
You nodded quickly, whimpering as his fingers spread you open for him while he pushed into you again from behind. “Fuck…” You moaned quietly. 
There was nothing gentle about him this time. Unlike earlier, he was now wild, and passionate, moving in and out of you, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. “That’s a good girl,” He murmured when he noted that you pushed back against him, meeting each one of his thrusts. “That’s it, princess…” 
He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear and telling you that you belonged to him, “You’re all mine now. All mine.” 
You were a moaning mess, holding onto the headboard to keep yourself upright while he pounded into you from behind. His braid had come undone from the ponytail they were in and now tickled your skin as he brushed his warm mouth against your skin. 
“No need for the pillow now, baby, you hear me? You can just walk in here and take whatever you want from me,” He gripped your hips and slammed in and out of you, grunting in the process. “Anything you want, you can have it. My hands, my tongue, my cock… it’s all yours, princess.” 
The pleasure became too much to handle, and you felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips. His tight grip on your body would surely leave a bruise, but Lewis didn’t care. 
“Do you even have an idea of how obsessed I am with you?” He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. His fingers rubbing your clit quickened then. “You feel me deep inside you, baby?” 
You nodded, moaning and gasping in pleasure. 
“This is how I’m gonna keep you now, always full of me,” He growled, teasing your earlobe while he pounded into your mercilessly. 
You whined loudly when both his hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him harshly each time, speeding up until you came all over his cock. It didn’t take him long to come after that, buried deep inside you and filling you up like he’d always dreamt of doing. 
You were shivering after he was done with you, whimpering and sore as he pulled both of you down on the bed, pulling you closer to him. He snuggled you until you stopped trembling. 
“Did I hurt you, princess?” He asked, kissing your face. 
“No,” You murmured. Then shyly added, “Can we do that again?” 
Lewis laughed, wrapping you tightly in his arms as you wrapped around him like a koala bear. “Anytime, baby.” 
And there you were finally, in his arms. 
This wasn’t quite how he had planned it in his head. Lewis had grown envious of his childhood friend. The initial plan was to get rid of your father, earn your trust enough until you handed everything – the properties, the money, the trained guards, all of it – to him, and the final part of the plan was to get rid of you. 
Making your father’s death seem natural was easy. But that last part of his plan never happened. It almost did, but then he saw you that day at the cemetery, looking sad, teary-eyed and so, so beautiful. 
Things changed then. He still took everything, but didn’t get rid of you. He couldn’t. He was obsessed, and he needed you closer, wanted you living with him and so he found a way to make your family home seem unsafe. 
Planting those notes was too easy. 
And next thing he knew, you were begging him for help. So he took you in, and kept you. Obedient and needy for him. His princess, now forever. His sins, all of it hidden perfectly. 
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sunderwight · 6 months
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disciple luo binghe, running errands for his shizun one day, somehow manages to be in the exact wrong (right) place at the exact wrong (right) time and catches shang qinghua meeting with mobei jun
in order to keep luo binghe from tattling right away, shang qinghua dissembles in a panic and claims that his clandestine meetings with mobei jun are happening because they're lovers and definitely not because shang qinghua is betraying the sect and handing their secrets over to demons in order to save his own hide. when that almost doesn't work, he also tells luo binghe that he knows he's part demon, and that if luo binghe rats him out then shang qinghua will take him down with him. mutually assured destruction
it works, and even though luo binghe threatens him quite a bit (jeez kid calm down, you might be the almighty protagonist but also you're like sixteen) he agrees to keep shang qinghua's fraternizing a secret. but if ANYTHING BAD should happen to the sect or especially to luo binghe's shizun because of this, luo binghe will take shang qinghua down even if it does ruin his life too
shang qinghua, now sweating even more bullets about the impending immortal alliance conference: cool! cool cool cool sounds great cool yeah
so shang qinghua can add "being blackmailed by the punk ass brat I sort of created" to his list of stress-inducing woes. which gets even worse when luo binghe keeps somehow sensing if mobei jun is around for more than a couple hours and showing up, and picking fights with him?? kind of??
wtf has the protagonist been taking tips from liu qingge or something...?
shang qinghua feels like he's gonna have a heart attack when mobei jun just snorts and tosses luo binghe by the scruff like he's an annoying yappy dog
mobei jun actually knows what's up though. teenage half-demon who has never been around his own kind has become spoiled by the lack of competition on this front, and now his hackles are all up because he wants to claim the whole mountain range as his territory, and his instincts are screaming at him to challenge mobei jun about it so that they can decide who is actually top dog. since mobei jun could easily kill him, especially with his blood sealed, and has been clawing rocks and pissing on trees along the borders of an ding peak since before luo binghe was born, he's clearly got seniority here
and since qinghua doesn't want mobei jun to just kill the little shit (fair enough -- that sealed bloodline does look kind of interesting) that means it's up to mobei jun to teach him how to do things like interact with other demons without making a complete fool of himself. lesson one: what to do when you challenge someone out of your league and they win, assuming they don't just kill you
so luo binghe reluctantly gains another demon tutor
meng mo actually approves. he's been out of the loop on demon high society for a long time, and has lacked a body for long enough too that he's forgotten a lot of the particulars of socializing. it'll be good for luo binghe to pick up some manners that aren't just silly human tea ceremonies and things. maybe he'll start addressing meng mo more respectfully for a change!
(lol no)
luo binghe is partly like "I don't need to learn demon social skills since I'm spending the rest of my life as a disciple of qing jing peak" but partly like, well, if shizun knew about this and didn't freak out about it, he'd probably say that knowledge is power and learning how to handle politics and diplomacy of all kinds is important. and despite himself luo binghe is also interested, because this is a whole perspective on his own nature that he's never really gotten advice about
also, mobei jun is the lover of shang qinghua? mobei jun is a demon who successfully seduced a cang qiong peak lord? does he have any advice about that?
(he does -- all of it very bad)
anyway all of this sort of fucks up the immortal alliance conference developments really good, so the system kind of gives up and settles on some other big transformative achievements that luo binghe has to complete in order to be suitably heroic
but shen qingqiu has no idea and so the reprieve just seems to come out of nowhere until several years later, when he walks in on luo binghe with his claws out and huadian gleaming in the company the demon king of the northern desert, the two of them playing weiqi or something while they wait for shang qinghua to get back from some random logistics crisis he had to rush off to
shen qingqiu: ...?!?
luo binghe, panicking: wait shizun I can explain it's not what it looks like SHIZUN I SWEAR I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU PLEASE DON'T BE MAD--!
shen qingqiu: all this time I thought you were sneaking out to meet a girl, and this was what you were doing instead?!
luo binghe: WHAT?? shizun no I'd never do that I swear I don't even like girls!
shen qingqiu: that's not -- wait what do you mean you don't even like girls?!
mobei jun, unperturbed and still focused on the weiqi board: he's gay
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sayruq · 6 months
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Hamas propaganda is so much more effective than Israeli propaganda despite not having the support of seemingly every western news organisation. It's simple, clear, cohesive, easy to understand, and therefore believable.
For example, Hamas will film themselves handing over healthy looking hostages to the Red Cross and then interact with them right before they leave to show how friendly the captors and captives have gotten. You watch the videos and you understand everything that is being conveyed immediately.
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And it worked. Even the people in my life, who aren't watching the conflict as closely as we have, have seen these images and have spoken in varying levels of surprise at how 'nice' and 'hospitable' Hamas was to the hostages. Keep in mind that these videos came out after weeks of billions of people witnessing the brutal and systemic murder of Palestinian people. The contrasting gentleness of the hostage exchange stood out greatly.
Israeli propaganda is chaotic, it conflicts itself, it's complicated. Look at this for example
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In order to explain why the hostages were so friendly with their captors, first, it was because the hostages had Stockholm Syndrom. Naturally, social media, their second greatest enemy, was awash with people refuting the existence of such a syndrome. So, it became that the hostages were actually being held at gun point. While, there were guns present during the hostage handovers, no one was pointing them at hostages in the videos that we all have available. No one was being hostile either. Now, we have the sedative explanation which again can be easily refuted by the videos we all have access to because the hostages didnt seem particularly drowsy. So, we have hostages with Stockholm Syndrome, who had guns pointed at them, and who were sedated. That's just too much. How can Stockholm Syndrome coexist with being held at gun point in front of the Red Cross? Why would they need to threaten the hostages if they're sedated? Which explanation can the average zionist go with? Which one can a neutral party accept?
The same goes for the war propaganda. On one hand you have American officials insisting that Israel would never harm Palestinian civilians on purpose but on the other hand, you have soldiers filming themselves shooting recklessly and with wild abandon into thin air with the implication being that they're battling off screen Hamas. You also have Israel insisting that hospitals, schools and refugee camps are secret Hamas bases but all we are seeing is civilians getting murdered in protected areas. When it comes to war reports, they can't decide if they've killed 1,000 or 5,000 Hamas fighters. No wonder even Israeli commentators have given up on the promise of the complete eradication of Hamas.
The Palestinian resistance have also released war propaganda. Simple, well edited videos showing their fighters actually battling Israeli soldiers and tanks, sometimes very up close. The videos are similar despite featuring different confrontations in the battlefield over a period of time. It's easy for anyone to spot an Al Qassam or Al Quds video. It's even easier to accept their daily war reports because we've seen them back up their claims. The numbers they give are consistent with their capabilities as well as various indicators such as Israel being forced to decommission their older tanks for the war in Gaza. Would they be doing that if they weren't losing their top line tanks fast?
Many zionists have spent the past 2 months confused as to why the whole world has seemingly turned against Israel. I'd point the finger at Israel if I were them, both due to its actions in Gaza and its inability to continue fooling the world.
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futureplayboibunnie · 10 months
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Aphrodesiacs Pt. 4
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?
mmmmmm heated.
the way you guys are eating this up makes me so damn giggly. love u fr. i’m feeding u crumb by crumb.
BROOO NSFW 18+ ykykyk
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A few days had passed, still actively avoiding each other, still actively desperate for each other.
Your lips were bleeding raw. It was a nervous habit now, chewing and knawing in your lips to conceal the broken moan escaping from your throat. It was like second nature, you were actually wondering if Miguel could actually see through your eyes.
Miguel was in his office, late again as usual, and he made sure that Lyla placed you as far away from him at HQ as possible, so you ended up in the shitty lab that you hated. He contemplated not letting you at HQ at all at night when he was here. But you actually wanted to see this suppressant through, you couldn’t give up. You had to at least try, no matter how hard Miguel pushed his distinctive and contrasting ideology onto you. You had to be sure, even if it was all for nothing.
You ran a diagnostic and everything seemed…fine. It would be smarter to wait but you had to try it out, not even bothering to drink it yourself first, you wanted to give it to Miguel so you could see that smug, God-like look from his face fade into normalcy: not being whipped over each other. As you closed the lights in the lab in a hurry, Lyla glitched in front of you as you headed out. You sighed as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot, a strange look forming on her face.
“Where ya going?” She said surprisingly chipper but you know she had an ultrerior motive. You waved a hand into the air she was in but she glitched to the side of you as you walked completely determined.
“Nowhere…” You mumbled, a frown settling on your lips. She didn’t believe it and she glitched in front of you again.
“He said doesn’t want to see you.” She shut her eyes and rattled your nerves with that sing song voice. Oh he doesn’t want to see you? Well, that’s funny. You would bet all your possessions to the fact that he does definitely need to see you, he just can’t because of some misbegotten respect out of his own moral code. You scowled.
“I don’t care. I have to show him something.” You gritted out hestitantly as you raised the vial up.
“Sorryyyy, no can do.” She smiled warmly and then before you can even blink, a red glitchy quilt of a cage Miguel would use for anomolies covered you. You blinked rapidly, filled with nothing but rage at the holographic AI.
Why the hell was everyone trying control you? Miguel. Lyla. Who next, Jess? This was between you and Miguel only, you didn’t care if Lyla was practically an extension of him, all you wanted was for all of this to go away. Even if you moved across the globe from him and met the hottest guy with the biggest dick, you still wouldn’t be able to unsheath yourself from the biggest problem: Miguel. As your palms hit the glitchy forcefield, you grunted hard. A thought flashed through you: what would this be like if you stopped being Spiderwoman? You shook your head and elbowed the shield.
“Lyla. I swear to God, if you don’t let me out-“ Your teeth were threatening to shatter as you glared at the faux pout that Lyla had.
“Sorryyy. Boss’s orders. Gotta go, Margo needs me!” She giggled before disappearing into thin air.
“What the hell? Are you just going to leave me here?” You yelled at nothing but a blank space. No other spiders were here, how the fuck were you supposed to do until morning? Thank God, the lights were still dimly lit so you wouldn’t be trapped in darkness…and Miguel was still here.
You felt it. In your bones you felt it.
No, no, no.
An unbidden image if him fucking you over his desk from behind as he pulled your hair seared into your mind. You felt it, you felt the thought react to all corners of your body. It would be so hard, so rough, so intense….He would cum all over your back and then plug his cock back in you. God, he would-
Please, not now. Please, why now?
-
Miguel wasn’t making any actual, practical effort to find a solution for any of this. His whole schtick was avoidance, he had done it to many women in his life, he could do it with you. Enough of being this weak, pathetic man, he could keep all of this in check if he just focus and didn’t let his mind wander or drift. He could do it. Yes, he knew he could.
Even though he was trying to not think about these primitive urges towards you, he couldn’t help a ribbon of curiosity flow through him about you. Why you? Yes it was the spider that was the root cause of this, but you….He wanted to know more. Miguel was an insatiable man with a trust that he beats down reguarly. He doesn’t trust. Ever. Even in his society, he knew that every single society and every single person in those societies had an agenda. Including him. His agenda right now was not fucking you.
He glared at his orange screens, watching clips of you fighting, clips of you walking around HQ. As much as he thought it was just “normal” curiosity with no lustridden intent, he couldn’t help but gawk at you like a fool. What was it about you that made you so damn attractive? It couldn’t have just been the spider that made him see that. He wanted to know more about you, your friends, your life….
In a fit of impulse, he wanted to hack remotely into your phone. It wasn’t even a second thought. As he had to remind himself…”just curious.” He then toggled his morals back on, this was such an invasion of privacy. It’s just so awful of him to do this, but his impulses were deemed more important right now.
He sighed loudly and screwed his eyes shut. Fine, he would destroy any pathway he had to get to your phone after this. He would never do it again.
It took about 20 minutes to do it, but he finally got in. He winced at how he was acting but as soon as his orange screens mirrored your phone, he pushed the feeling aside with a grunt and raised his fingers to start scrolling through your phone remotely using the screens. He went on your texts and there were multiple guys lined up just begging to fuck you. Your hookups were desperate for you and they wanted more. The texts you sent were very blunt and he couldn’t stop his brow from furrowing as his eyes skimmed.
- Come fuck. Left the door open
- On the way.
it should be Miguel that kicks the door in to see you, his face contorted into a snarl just imagining someone else doing it. He knew he shouldn’t but he kept scrolling.
- Need to ask you something.
- What about.
- Are you fucking a guy called Miguel or something
- What? No.
Miguel’s eyes widened as he read the message. What? He was stunned and tinged with a heated anger. You were talking about this to other people? No one could know, that was the first thing you were both told.
- Then why’d you whimper his name when we fucked.
You didn’t answer that text. Miguel’s mouth unhinged open as he saw those little words written out in front of him. Wait…you fucked other guys and…pretended it was him? Like Miguel was doing to all his women? Jesus Christ, this really wasn’t manageable. You moaned his fucking name when another guy had his dick in you. He felt so fucking smug and triumphant, a smirk lifted up his face. Oh the thing’s he’d do to you in order to make you whimper his name. Your other men must be racking their brains and going crazy trying to found out who he is.
You had a few friends you shot messages too but all there were now recently were hookups. Miguel frowned. He went to one chat and his eyes started gleaming red. He scrolled and found a picture of you. Posing for the camera for this random guy. Naked. Miguel swore he felt the vein on his temple thrum behind his skin, his dick hardened so fast that he was sure he’d be the most pathetic man on Earth, but how could he not? You looked so…delicious.
You were sat down on the edge of your bed, phone angled to the side so that your chin rested on your shoulder, the look on your face made him groan. You pouted at the camera and tensed your brows, lips glossed and wet, eyes gleaming with desperation and arousal. Your legs were spread wide apart and he could see very clearly how wet you were, your tits sat so prettily he just had to close his eyes and grunt. “Oh my fucking God….”
Your body was better than he could ever fucking imagine, your thighs especially. He couldn’t wait to eat you out. He wanted to frame this picture and put it on his desk so he could fuck his fist while he worked, maybe he’d get you to suck his dick under the table and-
No. Por favor. Control yourself. This means nothing.
He was lying. This meant everything.
He was pulled by his mindless gawk unkindly as an alert popped up on his screen, it was the security camera picking up on something.
You.
“Lyla! I swear to God someone let me out! I can’t be here all night. Miguel?” You screamed, he looked at the live footage and he sighed thickly. His face was hard, his eyes were mean and bore a visciois crimson hue. Seeing you like that, posing for another man made him jealous beyond pure reason. He would put a bullet between his eyes and fuck your face after he did it.
Miguel shook his head hoping to fly away this tangible and unreasonable jealousy. He was doing the exact same thing, he fucked other women like it was a new hobby and in some ways it quite had to be. But they really didn’t mean anything. They weren’t you. It felt like nothing too. Though, he didn’t know if your hookups meant nothing to you. Maybe you were in love with one of them, that’s why you were so desperate for a suppressant so you could truly love someone else. Miguel’s face went blank and then contorted back to pissed again. He was the one that told you to stay away from him….
He punched the console that helped him hack your phone and then threw it across the room in a fit of anger. He stood still for a minute and raked a hand to regain his composure. He took a few deep breaths to find balance again and then walked out of his office and to where you were so he could make you go home and stay there.
Miguel clenched his fists in order to avoid punching any more of the infrastructure and he felt his knuckles turn a piercing white. He found you in the distance in the red forcefield, looking unhappy as ever and all he could envision was you naked under the suit. He groaned as he approached you, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The look you gave him was deadly. You were so pissed. This wasn’t normal anger, it was animalistic and wild. You were sure you were turning more and more red the longer you stood. Viscious wasn’t the first thing you were about to be right now.
“Let me out of this goddamn cage right now Miguel.” You quietly seethed, eyes piercing and frown growing. He had never seen you this angry before, it was alarming yet refreshing. He mirrored your exact same look as he took the forcefield down, your body langue nor your face seemed thankful.
His eyes flicked at the vials and his face grew even more indifferent, he stepped forward and snatched the vials from your hand and crushed them with his palm as you watched in disbelief. Your mouth opened in a gasp and then you fell even more furious than before. You grabbed onto his collar and leaned in, faces still bearing the same scowl, up real close.
Instead his free hand pulled your hair back and he whispered in your ear. “Don’t send naked pictures of yourself to anyone else from now on, we clear?” He spat out coldly, venom boiling and seeping into his blood as he uttered the words.
You attempted to hide the flash of surprise on your face through the anger but what was impossible to conceal was your arousal. How the hell did he know? What the fuck was he doing? It’ll be a snowy day in hell before you ever forgive him for breaking the vials. You gave him a poisonous look before you leaned in to his ear, his scent already messing with your brainwaves.
“Next time I see you…I’ll kill you myself”
He let go of you and then turned his back on you, forming a portal for you and for himself, glancing at each other as you walked through it and disappearing into the night.
-
i’m making it painful. i’m making u wait for it ahahahaha
-
taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @tbeanie3 @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n
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sebsbarnes · 7 months
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co-workers || tangerine
tangerine x female reader (assassin)
summary: "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."
warnings: language, violence, fighting, injuries, blood, weapons
word count: 3.4k ; angst, fluff
tangerine masterlist
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rocking back and forth on your heels you patiently wait for the bullet train to zip into the shinagawa station. the platform was moderately busy, people dressed for various occasions. some in sophisticated work uniforms, kids bopping along with their school bags, and some dressed for a night out. you, however, were not.
sporting a black jacket, long sleeve turtleneck, leggings, sneakers, and a black bag you could've faded into the growing dark sky but here you are illuminated by the neon lights of the platform begrudgingly watching the bullet train's head lights fly past as it rolled into the station.
you were ordered to be here by your employer at the request of the white death. something about his son and a briefcase of money that needed some extra eyes watching over. apparently, the white death had some gut intuition about the two unnamed men he had hired for the job and wanted your skills onboard. your employer gave you very little detail about what to expect, no description of the briefcase, a grainy photo sent via email of the white death's son who had horrid face tattoos in your personal opinion, and when asked about the men already tasked to the mission your employer replied, 'eh two guys both kind of weird' and left it at that.
you boarded the train and stood near the doors, tight lipped smiling at those who walked by, waiting for the entryway to be clear. kneeling you pulled a small revolver out of a false bottom in the bag and slipped it into an inside pocket of your jacket, next pulling extra rounds and stuffing them into the other available pocket. you fumbled with a small piece of crumbled paper telling you to go to car three and a seat number that the son should be at.
quietly making your way to car three you re-patted your now stuffed pockets, adjusting your jacket and hair to relieve any sort of budding nerves. that is until you noticed the two kind of weird guys your employer told you about.
"well, can spot that fitted suit from a fuckin' city away" the two men stood in front of you who were deep in conversation snapped their necks towards you.
"well darling, and i'd spot that shit box dyed hair from the other side of the fuckin' earth" you couldn't help your arm raising to touch your long, and well dyed hair, at tangerine's rebuttal.
you tried to hide the laugh that threatened to break through as the three of you stood quiet for a few seconds following his comment. lemon broke first pushing past his brother to embrace you in a hug, "haven't see you in a minute, was beginning to get worried."
the three of you knew each other quite well, hell, the three of you lived together for a while. you had been under tangerine and lemon's employer for a long time but shit happens and it was best you found a new employer. lemon was more talkative and affectionate of the two, constantly talking your ear off and giving you hugs whenever he saw you, strictly friends though. tangerine, well, not affectionate and not talkative. it took a while for tangerine to mutter more than five words to you for the longest time. being outright friendly just isn't his nature and you can't fault him for that. the twins cared about you deeply, you knew lemon did within a week. tangerine took more time. it wasn't at the flip of a switch, it was gradual, perhaps may be even more natural.
it was a culmination of things that made you realize the rough man cared and appreciated you. like how after a job the three of you would go eat, you would jokingly (but also quite seriously) say how you were still starving. tangerine would slip you some of his food, 'not that hungry' he'd shrug. or how on missions he unconsciously used himself as a shield for your protection. or when he would come back from being out, holding a plastic bag in hand. 'saw these figured you might need 'em' plopping the bag in front of your seated position at the kitchen table and continued walking before you could comment on the new clothes that replaced the ones recently destroyed on a job.
or how days before you left the previous employer, you, tangerine, lemon, and an additional guy were assigned to a job that did not go so smoothly. it really was no one's fault, no one could've predicted how many men were hiding in the warehouse. each of you sported numerous injuries and lost many weapons but still completed the job. you and the other assassin were alone sitting on the floor when he suddenly started berating you. saying how shit you were as an assassin, spewing hatred and profanities amongst other vile things. you had no energy to fight back, 'maybe you're right' is all you could muster before getting up and searching for a secluded place to sleep for the night. you had awoken from your sleep hours later to the sound of a gunshot, wandering until you found someone.
'tangerine, what was that? i heard a gunshot' you asked the man who was promptly walking away from scaffolding towers.
he looked at you quizzically wiping his hands on his trousers, 'i think you might have been dreaming darlin'' all you could do was rub your head in confusion, 'let's get you back to bed, love.' the next morning only three of you returned from the mission.
"i've missed you, lemon," you smiled pulling away, holding his shoulders to look at him.
you and tangerine exchanged small nods, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. you turned towards the figure seated beside the men stepping to stand in front of who you assume to be the white death's son. to say something seemed off was an understatement. you gently grabbed the ends of his open jacket bobbing his head back.
"what the fuck?!" you jerked back dropping your grip as his body slumped forward. an older woman a few seats up shushed you.
"what the fuck?!" you whispered harshly at the twins, bug-eyed gesturing rapidly at the dead body in front of you.
"ask fuckin' percy over here," tangerine pointed to lemon.
"i'm not percy?! okay yeah i lost the case but i didn't kill the kid."
"well lemon, if you didn't have the brilliant fucking idea to stash the case, we would've been sat our squeaky fuckin' asses down in the seat not havin' to get up. young. sweet. not all there." tangerine hissed back, poking at lemon's forehead to emphasize.
mildly entertained by the twins infamous banter you sat down watching the two go back and forth before tangerine swiveled towards you both hands flat, palms up, pointing at you, "and no disrespect love, but why the hell are you here?"
"to babysit essentially. i'm here to make sure you two do your job and by the looks of it you done fucked that up. what an honor it will be to be ripped limb by limb by the white death with you idiots."
the three of you sat deliberating what the hell to do next and tried figuring out who else is on this train taking interest in the briefcase and the son. tangerine cleaned up the boy's face with his handkerchief and adorned his face with momonga glasses to hide the fact that he's well...dead.
the twins decided it would be effective splitting up and checking the train cars for the briefcase.
"ill stay here," you spoke as the two men grabbed their things to investigate the train.
"what?" tangerine asked eyebrows knotting together.
"i'll stay here. i'll see if anyone comes back for him," gesturing towards the limp body, "besides, my mission is a bit different. i'm not supposed to be seeking danger. if it comes my way then i can step in."
tangerine smooth out his moustache inhaling deeply seeming to oppose you being here by yourself.
"okay well, right then." lemon nodded stalking off down the train.
tangerine hesitated looking down at you in the seat.
"i'll be okay."
that is until ten minutes later a man sat across from you, "hi. there's a gun under this table."
"shhh," you hissed, "this is the quiet car babes."
the man in the hat and glasses took a moment to look over your shoulder at the sign, you took this opportunity to grab his hand, that held no gun, underneath the table yanking his body forward, table smashing into his shoulder.
"who the hell are you." you questioned, still holding onto his hand.
"ladybug. johannesburg, remember? your buddy shot me after you baited me to the parking garage?"
"so you're after the twins?" you asked ignoring what he said.
"the twins have a briefcase i need. i'm really not looking for trouble here miss, i just want to get the hell off this train and go meditate." he sighed taking his free hand through his longer hair.
"so you took the damn briefcase." you released his hand and brought your foot up to kick him in the groin. while he was hunched over in pain you stood up launching towards him to put him in a headlock, "where's the case."
"look lady," he sputtered, "i really don't want to hurt you."
ladybug punched your forearms to loosen your grip and when you didn't budge, he turned his head to bite your wrist.
"what the fuck!" you yelped springing back. he took this moment to sweep your legs out from underneath you. you hit the floor with a loud thud, the ache in your shoulder radiating down your arm. he leaned over your body giving you a weak smile and in return you kicked him in the face, blood instantly pouring out of his nose.
"shit balls!" he exclaimed. you clamored to your feet and started running throughout the bullet train. ladybug's steps got closer and closer and that's when you felt a burning hot sensation on the back of your shoulder. your movement immediately stopped, groaning as you reached for the knife in your back pulling it out.
"prick." you hissed turning around to face the man. your arm swiped in front of his face, the blade making a whooshing noise in the air. you managed to clip the side of his cheek.
thankfully the car the two of you were now fighting in was not occupied. he gripped your arm throwing you against the wall and stalked towards you. you stashed the blade in your pocket, shrugging your jacket to the ground, opting to fight him with your fists. you dodged the first hit and returned him a hit in the jaw. he staggered and taking advantage of his lower stance punched you in the stomach.
"i don't like hurting women." ladybug exasperated as the two of you continued fighting, punches being thrown, skin being split, bodies flying across the car.
"seems like you're in the wrong line of work, dumbass," you gripped the back of his head slamming his face into the top of one of the seats. the crack you heard made you wince. ladybug's forehead was split, blood running down his face into his eye.
it was obvious his physical state was weakening. he swallowed deeply, eyes flickering to a spot beyond you. before you realized what was happening, ladybug was running towards your jacket where the knife was. he managed to grab it and came barreling towards you. once again the battle was back on. the knife dancing between you two as its ownership changed frequently. you and ladybug were a panting mess with new cuts decorating your bodies. this old piece of shit wouldn't let up. you were becoming exhausted and you needed this to end somehow. the two of you were both on the floor, the blade in your hand. you knew you didn't have enough stamina for another round of fighting, the cuts scattering your body were aching, the large stab wound to your shoulder was now numb. instead, you sliced the closest things to you that would cause the most damage.
his achilles.
ladybug screamed out in pain, shaking hands wrapping themselves around his ankles in some attempt to soothe the sheering pain. you stood, looking over the man, the blood from the knife dripping onto your shoe. you stepped around his cradled body, making your way up the train. tangerine hasn't come past yet meaning he is still ahead. the door swished open but you'd only make it one step in before crumbling to the ground.
immediately you started hyperventilating from the intense pain that seemed to hit every nerve in your body. blinking rapidly as you scooted yourself against the wall. then you felt it. a warm sensation running down your skin, your clothes feeling wet. blood. your body was shaking, open lips huffed out puffs of breath. slowly and carefully, you looked back at ladybug.
your gun in his hands.
he must have grabbed it when he retrieved the knife in your abandoned jacket. fucking stupid.
ahead in the train tangerine heard a faint noise, but nonetheless he knew it was a gunshot. he slicked back his hair and removed his gun from his waistband. he carefully entered each train car, observing anything out of the ordinary. the door in front of him opened and his step faltered when he saw a black sneaker, and then a leg, and then the body as his eyes raked up the slumped figure.
he dropped to his knees, gun now on the floor, "hey tan," you croaked.
"bloody hell," he sighed, his eyes darting across your entire body.
"stop checking me out i don't look my best," you tried joking. tangerine didn't seem amused as he noticed your torn clothes, bloody face, your hair matted with blood.
"that old bag of bones can really fight. but he took a cheap shot when my back was to him," you finally answered. you lifted the hem of your shirt to show tangerine the bullet hole in your lower stomach above your hip.
"jesus," he muttered swallowing thickly. he seemed stunned to see you in this condition. he also seemed lost on what to do. his eyes wouldn't stop looking you over, his hands unconsciously went to your face brushing your hair out of your eyes.
"tangerine stop fucking staring at her we need to help her," lemon had found the two of you. his voice booming causing tangerine to snap out of his daze.
lemon pushed him to the side, immediately coming to your aid. he worked with what he could find. your shallow cuts weren't important. the wound to your shoulder would need stitches later on. the entrance and exit wound of the bullet was causing the biggest issue as you had lost a decent amount of blood from it. lemon continued to do his best as you sat there eyelids half open.
tangerine was silent, more silent than ever before, as if he were stuck in a trance. you slowly moved your fingers towards his hand that was resting on the floor. two of your fingers wrapped around his pinky jerking him out of his trance. this somehow sparked something in him as he shot up from the floor, grabbing his gun making sure it was loaded and set off on a mission you could only assume to be to find ladybug.
your lips pulled down in a frown as he left. you wanted him here. his presence, his touch, his whatever. any semblance of that cocky man you wanted next to you for comfort. you knew you were going to be okay, you were weak right now but the thought of him beside you somehow made you believe you would feel stronger.
lemon let out a soft chuckle as he finished securing cloth to your wound, "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."
you slapped his arm, "fuck off."
lemon and you agreed you need to rest, he helped you to sit in an empty seat, propping you against the window.
"alright, now, if anything serious happens i will text you alright. in the meantime, sit here and wait till we come get you, you hear me?" lemon demanded.
sometime had passed and you noticed less and less people on the platforms boarding the train. it was too quiet. your stomach was telling you something was off. you winced in pain as you gripped the armrest to stand up. a bit wobbly but you managed to put one foot in front of the other. as you continued you heard voices close by. the doors to one of the cars was open by bags tripping the sensors. you saw a young girl in pink standing looking scared and him. the greasy haired prick who shot you. he still had your gun in his hand pointed at someone.
tangerine.
"fuck." thankfully you held onto the knife and before he could notice you moving towards their train car you brought your arm over your head, swinging forward, releasing the knife. it lodged itself below ladybug's collarbone. he yelped out in pain stumbling a bit and that's when his finger hit the trigger.
"you bastard," tangerine hissed as the bullet hit his leg.
you took this opportunity while the men were distracted and ran towards ladybug. you propelled yourself onto him, spinning and wrapping your legs around his neck, you removed the blade from his chest and stuck it in the base of his neck.
"you don't touch him," you spit at the man as he crumbled to the ground.
the girl was long gone. now facing tangerine you noticed all the bruises and blood on him, drenched in sweat. his curly hair now laying across his forehead. his jacket long gone leaving him in a white button down that was criminally low on his chest and a vest. you couldn't help but check him out.
he started to say your name but you cut him off, hugging him tightly around his neck, knocking the wind out of him. he hesitated a moment before firming wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your hair. after a few minutes he pulled back, sliding his hands to your waist to look at you. you held onto tangerine's elbows as his eyes wandered your face.
"darlin'," he started, "i'm- i'm sorry i didn't do anything when i found ya."
you chuckled through your nose, "tan. i'm fine."
"you're injured n' i didn't do anything except fuckin' look at you." he shook his head in disgust.
"tangerine," you said firmly placing your hands on his chest, "stop. i am fine. i am okay. we all react differently to seeing our friends hurt."
"friends, " he half laughed, "you realize i don't see you as a friend."
you paused, hands loosening their grip on his arms. god, you were dumb to think you were even friends. you're coworkers, hell at this point maybe even acquaintances, its been five months since you lived with them. all you could mutter was a shaky 'oh.'
tangerine laughed, "you know love, you can really be dense sometimes."
your mouth formed an 'o' trying to figure out what to say next, "dense?"
"love, i've wanted you the moment you almost sniped my head off in vienna." tangerine chuckled, moving hair out of your face. you couldn't look at him instead you toyed with his open shirt, fingers brushing against his hot skin.
"i guess i am kinda dumb right? should've put the pieces together when you killed anyone who was mean to me." you smiled.
he leaned down gently placing a kiss on your lips. you immediately kissed back, tasting the metallic flavor of the blood that was on his lower lip. your nails ran across his scalp sending a shiver down his spine. tangerine gripped your lower back harder, minding the wound, to bring you in as close as physically possible.
tangerine pulled away from the kiss, bringing his mouth to your ear, "by the way darlin', you spinning around on his neck and what you said was really hot."
"then i suggest we get the fuck off this train soon and i'll show you the move personally."
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rumisgf · 26 days
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BAKUGOU BOYFRIEND HCS
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summary: i’m getting katsuki brainrot again so here’s some boyfriend headcanons for the soul.
warnings: black!reader ofc, college!au, cursing, mentions of injury, suggestive if you squint, crack, feminine terms used
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✧ first off, it was not easy to get to the point of dating. just because he’s so hyper focused on being a hero he definitely had to learn how to let somebody in his life, so y’all probably were in that talking stage for a hot minute before he finally asked you to be his 😭
✧ as a boyfriend though, bakugou’s very protective of you
✧ he always walk on the side closest to the street on the sidewalk, usually has a hand on the small of your back or on your hip, and insists he holds your hand while you cross the street
✧ never walk behind him. ever.
✧ it ends in him scolding you while grabbing you and shoving you in front or next to him
✧ he’s practically your bodyguard at this point, no one tries to approach you with bad intent when he’s with you
✧ when he’s not with you though, he still puts in an effort to make sure you’re good. he’s definitely a ‘call me when you get there’ and ‘call me when you get home’ type of boyfriend
✧ it’s known bakugou is very self disciplined. he goes to bed at 8:30, probably has a very good diet, and is keen on his hygiene. so naturally, he makes sure you do the same
✧ he makes sure you’re drinking enough water and if you’re hungry he’d much rather cook for you than order you something (also because cooking is his love language)
✧ and if your sleep schedule is messed up bakugou finds out….oh boy
✧ he’ll literally lift you up and carry you to bed when it gets around his own bedtime
“katsuki put me the fuck down!”
“it’s bed time, stop being a brat.”
✧ all in all, he actually enjoys taking care of you no matter how much he calls you a brat
✧ which, him calling you a brat is ironic, because bakugou acts like a bad ass little kid
✧ he’ll randomly cuss somebody out if they talk too much, he hates ties, he’ll do stupid dares denki tells him to do just to prove he can do it, and his every day mission is to get on your nerves
✧ he loves play fighting but he will not go easy on you
✧ your friends cannot take y’all in public without y’all randomly trying to tussle
✧ and of course he’s katsuki bakugou, so he likes to argue
✧ usually it doesn’t get too serious, it’s always over something so dumb he really just likes getting you mad because he thinks it’s cute
✧ but something bakugou also would never admit is he likes when you’re touchy or needy
✧ it makes him feel wanted
✧ he also constantly craves your comfort
✧ he does little things like coming straight to your dorm after a workout and laying directly on top of you while you’re laying down despite how sweaty he is
✧ leaning his head on your shoulder while you’re doing something so you can play with his hair
✧ acting grumpy when he wants your attention so you can eventually give in to him and give him forehead kisses
✧ he’s a big baby (but you love it)
✧ bakugou loves taking candid pictures of you. not only because he thinks you look so pretty but he heavily enjoys hearing you whine after you snap up and see his phone camera pointing at you
✧ despite what was stated earlier, he does like taking you to restaurants
✧ it’s an excuse for you to get all dressed up and for him to admire you
✧ as you can tell, he likes to give you princess treatment even though if anybody brings it up he’ll deny it profusely as his palms threaten to spark up explosions
✧ kirishima tried to tease him about it, that man barely made it out alive.
✧ bakugou pays for your nails, your lashes, your hair– anything you wanna get done he instantly is sending you money
✧ he goes all out of birthdays, brings you snacks for your classes, opens every door and pulls out every chair for you,
✧ and one time when all of bakusquad went out to eat, mina caught him cutting your food for you
“here give me that, ‘not even doin’ it right.”
“dude i got i-”
“hush, lemme see!”
“i said-”
✧ and he just started cutting your steak.
✧ speaking of, he’s very stubborn and has a particular way of doing things
✧ one time he tied your shoes for you because ‘you’re doing it the wrong way’
✧ mitsuki taught him the bunny ear method and he sticks to it to this day
✧ and he has his own weird way of loving you
✧ ‘stop being stupid’ always translates to ‘please be careful, i care about you’
✧ don’t get him wrong though, he loves bullying for you fun
✧ you cannot eat in peace around this man.
✧ ‘woah there little lady, you sure know how to put it away!’
✧ ‘damn, is it good???’
✧ you have to fight urges to smack him in the face on a daily basis
“…….eat! eat! ea-”
“SHUT THE FUCK-”
✧ whenever you accidentally scratch or cut yourself on something he scolds the hell out of you but is also the first one running to you
✧ it’s always him mumbling about how you need to be more careful while putting a bandage on your wound and gently kissing it after
✧ he drives you everywhere. you’ll never need an uber again dating this man
✧ you’re one of the only people who can genuinely make him laugh
✧ his friends got so shocked at first when you made a joke and he was crying laughing
✧ bakugou isn’t very fond of using social media, but when he does it’s mostly for you
✧ he’s one of the first to put you new posts on his story, and he always leave about three hearts under your comments
✧ maybe even a “so beautiful” or “my pretty girl” if he’s feeling giddy that day
✧ lastly, bakugou does not play about you.
✧ he will crash out about you any day he needs to and your wellbeing is his first priority
✧ he’s definitely gotten into fights over you and no matter how many times you tell him to chill, he doesn’t tolerate anybody who tries to disrespect you
✧ and anytime anybody even tries to hurt you, he nearly commits first degree murder
✧ he won’t say it out loud to other people but you’re truly his baby, and he cherishes you so much
✧ he never viewed himself as boyfriend material but for you, he really does try his hardest and it’s very apparent
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@ rumisgf
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starsofang · 19 days
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simon riley x blind!reader requested by @wareagleofthemountain <3 tw: none!
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Simon never expected to meet you, nor was he remotely looking for somebody to enter his life and completely flip it around. He didn’t attach himself to people, and interactions with strangers with the intent of becoming more than that was a far-fetched idea for somebody like him. Being on his own was something he greatly preferred, and his task force were the only people he ever needed.
That was what he thought, anyway, up until you.
Even when you had accidentally bumped into him in the middle of a rundown convenience store late at night, you didn’t cower away from him. The sight of his mask didn’t cause you to turn away and mumble out a half-assed apology in order to leave his vicinity as quickly as possible, and at first, he didn’t understand.
That was until he noticed the furball standing next to you, staring up at him as if scolding him for getting in the way. The harness was glaringly obvious now that he looked at it, and he felt a bit stupid for not noticing it in the first place. You had a guide dog, with words boldly lettered indicating that you were blind.
“I’m so sorry!” you said, and he caught himself staring at you as you began rambling out genuine, sweet apologies, explaining that you didn’t mean to bump into him, that you hoped you didn’t hurt him by accident.
Simon didn’t get attached to people, no. But that didn’t mean he didn’t notice cute people who had hearts of gold that made his look rotten in comparison.
“S’alright,” he assured you, fighting so hard to push back the smile that threatened to curl up under his mask. Smiling meant he felt amused, and amusement meant he saw something in you that intrigued him. “What’s his name?”
When he asked about your guide dog, you practically lit up like a damn Christmas tree and oh, he was fucked. That smile wasn’t fair.
“Peanut,” you introduced affectionately, and when he glanced down at your dog, Peanut, the little thing looked almost prideful at that.
“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, and before he could detach himself from the conversation, before he could bid you farewell and leave you behind for good, he found himself speaking once more. “And yours?”
Simon never expected to meet you, nor was he remotely looking for somebody to enter his life and completely flip it around. But you did, and he found himself so engrossed in you, he couldn’t ever imagine life without you.
He thinks fondly of the day you two met, where he was in a mindset of pushing everybody around him away. He’d never given himself an opportunity to live a normal life, then you came around and had him seeking out the future.
The future was never a possibility until you, nor was it a possibility without you in it.
Simon never made you feel incapable just because you were blind. You had worked your way around the world just fine before him, and you’d continue to do it during him.
That didn’t mean he never tried his best, though. In fact, Simon took pride in helping you out with things as his way of showing his undying love for you. He may not have been the most affectionate person physically, but doing things for you was his favorite form of care.
Cooking was one of many. Simon was naturally a lover of cooking, so teaching you how to do it was something he took to almost immediately.
When it came to chopping vegetables, he’d gently guide your hands with his own, closed around the kitchen knife and showing you how to chop away without nicking yourself. If it was an excuse to hold your hand and watch your joyful smile light up your face, he’d never admit it.
He’d explain every step of a recipe to you, wanting to give you your independence of cooking on your own while also involving himself enough to be useful. He’d explain in soft ways how to properly cook meat, how to make sure it’s not undercooked or overcooked, guiding you through every part of the meal and watching with pride when you’d figure it out after a few trial errors.
Simon had never thought a meal could taste so good until it was cooked by the one you adore.
Reading was something you could do on your own. Your entire collection were books geared towards your blindness to help make it more accessible to you, but Simon quickly found out that he specifically liked reading for you.
It became routine in your apartment, the one that he was staying in so much that it might as well had been his as well, for the two of you to snuggle up close on the couch with a book you mentioned hearing about in those silly videos you listen to on your phone. His arm would tuck you into his side while the other held the book he’d gone out for, venturing to find (even if it took going to multiple stores), while Peanut laid content at your feet.
The books might not have been his personal favorite, but he’d spend every night reading them to you, his voice soft and quiet as they executed every page. You’d listen with a smile on your face, head resting in the pit of his shoulder, allowing the warmness of his voice send you into a peaceful serenity that almost always had you falling asleep twenty pages in.
Simon never minded that you’d fall asleep, and with a sweet kiss on your head, he’d string you along to bed, bookmarking the book for the next night when he’d read to you once again.
Being blind had never bothered you, and it was something you were never embarrassed or ashamed of.
Simon aided you in whatever you needed, but never made you feel an inkling of being broken or unable. He was passionate in the way he cared for you, while remaining stern in letting you be your own person.
The one thing that did bother you was that you’d never be able to see Simon’s face for all the true glory it was. The man you’d come to love over the time spent together was so close to you, yet felt so far when your brain would remind you that you didn’t know what he looked like.
The more time went on, the more you failed to grasp on to those strings, enough for Simon to take notice. When you finally had the gall to express this concern of yours, he understood completely why you’d upset yourself over it.
Thankfully for you, Simon had an easy fix for that.
“No need to worry yourself over that, sweetheart. Here.”
You may not have been able to see him, but you could feel him. Simon took your soft hands into his own, gently guiding them to cup his face. He bore himself naked to you, adorning no mask, all scars and rugged skin on display.
Your fingers traced along every feature of his, taking it in and mapping them out. You felt the thickness of his brows, trailing down to the flutter of his eyelashes, gently swiping your thumbs across them. You felt every bump of old, healed scars that indented his skin, every prickly stubble of his unshaven face.
You may not have been able to see him, but you knew he was beautiful.
Simon didn’t rush you. He remained patient and willing, face relaxed as you felt every crevice and divot. Your fingers were so careful in the way you handled him, like dealing with fragile glass, that he could’ve easily fallen in love with you a second time.
“You’re pretty,” you breathed out, hands halting their movements to lay flat on his cheeks. You were holding the world in your hands, and after getting a feel of what lay beyond it, you never wanted to let go.
Your words had dazed him, and he felt his mouth go dry as he stared at you, sinking in your own lovely features just as you did his own.
Simon had no words to speak back to you, but you knew what he was thinking without him having to say it – he loved you, more than any word could express.
Simon might not have been the type of person to get attached. You were the last thing he’d been looking for in life, but you came rushing into him like a flood, engulfing him in a forever calmness.
His body was permanently sinking in a sea of passion, and you were the life vest keeping him afloat.
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i promise i didn't forget about u lovie! work was a bit crazy and my brain was a bit fried but it's here and i sincerely hope u enjoy it! thank u for the request, i love soft simon sm
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chlorinecake · 6 months
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What do you think the enha legal line would react if by chance or by accident the other members touch readers tits? The reader being their gf obviously
I got this idea from your recent gang bang post and I was like damn
For ex yn is hee's gf and by accident jake touches her tits , or if you wanna make it spicy remove the accident part and make it as sluty as you can
If you want ofcourse
By the way I'm new here , on your blog so hoping for more talks!
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𐙚 Cherry Blossoms | 18+ EN- REACTIONS
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cw: jealous!bf enha 🙈, implied intimacy (so like, no explicit smut scenes), kissing, swearing, boob fondling/nipple play, hickeys, mentions of drinking, dry humping (?), kinda silly honestly, 400-500 words per member
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이희승 ♱ Lee Heeseung — Heeseung didn't worry about leaving you and Jake alone because he trusted him with everything. Though, your boyfriend had barely been gone for a minute before Jake's hands got lost under your top, fingers toying with the hem of your sports bra as he lowered his voice to a purr. “Heeseung only focuses on his own pleasure… I bet he's never even touched you like this before, has he?," Jake smirked, causing you to shiver as his thumb lightly grazed your nipple, “It’s kinda cute, actually.”
“W-what is,” you asked, squirming from his hands that only followed your movements. “How sensitive you are,” he teased, adjusting your shirt so he could have better access to your chest. “Do you think Heeseung would mind if I added a few marks with his?” He said in between lightly sucking your tits, the wet sounds of his tongue making heat rush to your cheeks.
“J-Jake, if Heeseung catches us like this, you’re dead,” you threatened, running a hand through Jake’s hair as part of you wanted to push him away though another part compelled you to pull him closer.
Beep, beep, beep. The microwave chimed, but your boyfriend was no longer in the kitchen, having come back to ask if you and Jake wanted a drink with the popcorn he just made.
“What the fuck are you doing?!,” Heeseung yelled, marching up to Jake and pulling his shoulder back.
“I think the answer's pretty obvious, Sherlock,” Jake grinned, watching the way you covered yourself before him despite his swollen lips telling clearly of the actions that already took place.
Heeseung shook his head before reaching for the remote and turning off the TV, “you can go now, Jake. Movie night is OVER.”
“Dude, chill, you’re acting like I fucked her,” Jake teased, getting up from the couch and walking to the front door, putting on his shoes before leaving you two alone. You stood up from the couch before Heeseung waved his finger, “Nuh uh, sit,” he ordered, plopping on the couch beside you and pulling you into his lap, cradling you.
You felt as his hands groped around your neck, gently squeezing before releasing the pressure, his eyes softening in the process. "H-Heeseung," you stuttered at the sudden warmth growing at your core, “aren’t you upset?”
“Upset? Just a little... maybe even a lot... but not with Jake," he whispered in a husk voice, cold hands tiptoeing down your back before grinding your hips against him, broken moans escaping your lips as the moment only escalated from there.
박종성 ♱ Park Jongseong — You and your boyfriend Jay had just gotten back from your 2-day long road trip together, filled with campfires, hiking, and romantic moments in the lake. You were honestly feeling a little tense after the trip, so Jay offered to help you out by massaging your shoulders.
Kissing you on the cheek, he sat you down in a gaming chair that he borrowed from one of the members in your shared bedroom. “Now, I want you to relax for me, okay?,” he whispered, gently closing your eyes with his fingertips, “I’ll be right back with the massage oil.”
You didn’t hear Jay’s footsteps leave the room but you heard when he came back, using his thumbs to dig circles into the tender area of your shoulder. Naturally, you let out a few lewd sounds from his actions, breath hitching in your chest as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, sliding down to grope your boobs. You hummed like a kitten at his touch, stroking his hands and throwing your head back in the process.
That’s when you heard a second pair of footsteps come in, a lot angrier than the first, followed by the sound of said oil clashing with the floor. You opened your eyes at the sound to realize it was none other than your boyfriend Jay, blood practically boiling at the sight of you with Sunoo’s hands cradling your chest. “Oh my God!” You yelped in shock, jumping from the chair to cover yourself. You almost couldn’t believe that it was Sunoo touching you the whole time, a phony expression of shock displayed on his face.
“You should go, Sunoo,” Jay said coldly, balling his fists.
“Oh- my apologies, Jay-hyung. Her boobs were just so soft, I didn’t even realize I was touching them,” Sunoo shrugged, not budging in his stance.
“What part don’t you understand about getting the fuck out of here?” Jay continued, grabbing Sunoo by the shoulder and leading him out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Jay-"
“I can’t believe you couldn’t recognize those weren’t my hands,” Jay shook his head playfully, pulling you closer before picking you up and laying you on the bed.
“My eyes were closed, Jay,” you giggled, feeling his hands knead your thighs as he left featherlight kisses all over your neck that soon escalated into much more passionate kisses.
“I can tell you’re still a little tense, though,” Jay whispered seductively, fingers ghosting over the center of your panties as he moved to play with your drawstring, releasing it with a sting. "Still need my help?"
Cupping his face in your hand, you kissed him on the lips this time, eyes already hazy from his simple touches as you nodded at his words.
To this day you both have no idea what compelled Sunoo to do that...
심재윤 ♱ Sim Jaeyun — Tonight was the night of Jake's big winter party, and you decided to wear something revealing to get his attention. Though, unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't as impressed as you anticipated him to be.
You snuck off somewhere to get a drink while Jake continued to chat things up with his friends, just to get your mind off things. You didn’t expect to see Heeseung hanging around the bar, so you decided to cover your chest with the thin shawl you brought with you.
“Trouble in paradise?" Heeseung teased, passing you one of the red party cups.
"Is it really that obvious?," you frowned, filling your cup up with juice from the punch bowl that was definitely spiked.
"Hmm. Not really, but you never dress like this," Heeseung went on, shamelessly checking you out through his doe-eyes, "Maybe you should try this style more often."
"Yeah... maybe," you pouted, glancing at Jake from a distance. Sure, it was nice to have a boyfriend who didn’t only want you for your body, but naturally, you wanted to spice things up in your relationship.
“Pfft,” Heeseung scoffed, talking another sip from his drink before placing it down. “I mean, I respect that you have a boyfriend… kind of… but you're obviously not gonna get his attention on your own," he said, grabbing each end of your shawl before sliding it to your waist, pulling you closer to him, "I can fix that if you like."
You smacked his shoulder playfully, part of you actually considering his offer, “Get a grip, would ya? I think you’ve had too much to drink for the night,” you chuckled, feeling his hands snake around your hips.
“Have I ever told you how pretty your smile is?” he said, looking you in the eyes now, “it matches your tits perfectly,” he grinned, hand ghosting over your chest before he asked, “can I touch them?”
“You must be out of your mind,” Jake interrupted, startling the both of you as he pulled you into his side, “Baby, are you okay?”
“She’s fineee…” Heeseung answered for you, a satisfied expression plastered over his face as he walked away, leaving you two alone.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” you sighed, squeezing his hand as you exhaled the tension building up within you, “I didn't mean for Heeseung to act that way... I just wanted your attentio-”
“And now you’ve got it,” he interrupted your words, pulling you into him by your lower back before kissing your lips, humming at the contact.
"Let's take this somewhere more private, yeah? Unless you can't wait any longer."
박성훈 ♱ Park Sunghoon — Your overly-protective boyfriend decided to take you to the gym with him after you almost got into a fight outside of the mall last week.
It was for a stupid reason, really.
You overheard some girls talking shit about you and upon calling them out for it, things got a little physical.
“You know I could’ve taken both of those girls on my own, right?” You tried reassuring him, not feeling up to join him at the gym today, “And besides, we haven’t hung out in forever. Can’t we just do something else for the day?”
Sunghoon chuckled at the pout you wore on your face, offering his hand to help you out of the car as he carried both your gym bags, “I just wanna show you a few things, and then we’ll hang out later, okay? I promise.”
Sulking all the way into the fitness building, you didn’t expect to see one of Sunghoon’s friends there, striking at a punching bag with all his might.
“Oh- Jay’s here!” Your boyfriend chirped, “He used to volunteer at a women’s self defense class. Maybe he can help us out today,” he continued, jogging over with your hand in his.
Taking out his headphones, Jay stuck out a hand out to greet both of you. “Hey, guys. Having a little gym date, huh?”
“Sort of. ____ almost got into a fight a last week, and I just wanna make sure she knows how to defend herself,” Sunghoon said, making you roll your eyes.
One reply led to another, and Jay offered to coach you for a bit, the two of you hopping in the boxing ring together with gloves and sweatbands on. Meanwhile, Sunghoon stood on the sidelines, occasionally taking pictures of you while he pretended to referee.
“C’mon, ____, you won’t hurt me,” Jay taunted, tiring you out as he dodged all of your attacks, “Punch like you mean it!”
Sunghoon was cheering you on, which made you feel confident enough to try something you saw in an action movie once. Running into Jay, you knocked him out of balance, landed on his lap as you prepared to jab him right in the face.
That was when you felt his hands cupping your chest as an attempt to push you away.
The sight was terrible, honestly, and looked a lot like a sex position. And unfortunately, Sunghoon got the whole thing on video.
Stepping into the ring, your boyfriend helped you get off of Jay, who immediately started apologizing.
“Bro, I’m really sorry about that, you know it wasn’t my intention to get that physical,” Jay rambled, face slightly turning pale in shock.
“It’s alright, man. But if it ever happens again, you can at least try and make it entertaining for me,” Sunghoon teased.
“THIS is how you properly touch a woman,” he smirked, showing off his fangs as leaned you against the rope cage, playing with your boobs like stress balls.
“Hoon, you CLOWN! That tickles,” you giggled uncontrollably, not even realizing how Jay was dying of laughter in the corner of it all.
김선우 ♱ Kim Sunoo — It randomly started to rain outside upon you and Sunoo already getting dressed for your picnic date together. Instead, you decided to stay home and play board games with each other, inviting Jungwon who was also stuck inside for the day to join you two. You three started off with a few games of Uno before Sunoo suggested a round of truth or dare.
“I choose truth,” Sunoo smiled, crossing his legs to sit. “Okay, okay,” Jungwon began, munching on a few pretzels from the snack bowl, “what’s your favorite thing about ____?”
A pink hue rushed to your boyfriends cheeks at the question, which made you and Jungwon laugh until Sunoo finally built up the courage to answer. “Well... to be honest with you, I’d have to say her tits.”
You couldn’t believe the words that just came from his mouth. Now it was your turn to feel embarrassed. “Sunooooo," you cringed, bringing your legs to your chest and burying your face in your knees.
“What? It’s true!" He continued, nudging your leg playfully, "It’s the only part of you that the boys never get to see. It’s only for me,” he smiled, making your heart beat a little faster.
Jungwon raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in energy before suggesting a new game, “Hmmm... I say we play Twister now!”
The game started off easy, with you and Jungwon going first so Sunoo could spin the color board. One move led to another before Jungwon accidentally slipped on the plastic game mat, falling hands-first onto your boobs.
You let out a sound that easily could’ve been mistaken as a moan, but Jungwon just stayed there frozen, straddling you with his hands groping your chest.
“Uh-uhh, I-I’m… sorry,” Jungwon shrieked with embarrassment, finally backing away from you, but it was already too late.
Sunoo was pissed. “____, why didn’t you do something?!” “Like what?” “I... I don’t know, slap him in his stupid face for touching what isn’t his?”
“Sunoo-hyung, it was an acciden-”
“Be quiet, Jungwon!” your boyfriend spat coldly, getting up from the floor before marching up to his room. “Sunoo, wait!” You called out, following after him all the way to his bed where he laid on his back.
“You didn’t move fast enough, ____,” Sunoo mumbled under his breath, arms crossed over his stomach, “it made me think that you wanted it.”
You sat next to him, stroking his thigh as you spoke, “No, baby… I was just shocked," you admitted.
“That still doesn’t take back what happened, though,” he pouted as you reached under his shirt, tracing lazy shapes on his abs before inching your fingers closer to the hem of his pants, smiling at the way he shivered through it all.
“Let me make it up to you, then... I’m all yours, now.”
양정원 ♱ Yang Jungwon — Thanks to your period, you’d been feeling extra horny without Jungwon being able to please you like usual. So, Sunghoon invited himself to keep you company while Jungwon took a shower after his routine evening jog around your neighborhood. The two of you were casually making conversation about your period symptoms on the living room couch when you noticed how Sunghoon’s eyes kept falling to your chest.
“They're pretty swollen, huh?” He purred, groping your chest with his veiny yet delicate hands.
You unintentionally moaned at the feeling, your arms almost forgetting how to work as he applied more pressure, thoroughly amused by your reactions.
“S-Sunghoon, stop that!,” you whined as he laid you on your back, straddling your hips as he continued to massage your tits. “What, are they tender, too?” He asked mischievously, inching closer to your neck before grazing your skin with his fangs, “because I know how to be gentle."
All you could do was whine beneath him, feeling a little guilty about letting your hormones get the best of you.
That’s when Jungwon came out of the shower, steam roaming behind him as he shook the access water from his hair, making his way to the living room.
“Hey, babe, I ran you a bath while I was in there…” he stopped mid-sentence, feline eyes narrowing at the sight before him. Sunghoon didn’t seem to flinch in Jungwon’s presence, hands still resting on your body as he started to speak, “How was your shower, Jungwon?”
“Fine,” your boyfriend replied coldly, waking up to the couch before snatching you by the wrist, pulling you away from him, “Let's hurry, ____, before the water gets cold.”
As soon as you got into the bathroom, Jungwon locked the door, pining you against the wall, “What was that all about, hmm?” He asked, caging you with one arm as he slowly unbuttoned the flannel you wore.
His flannel.
“Since when do you like guys like Sunghoon-hyung?”
“I-I don't,” you nearly whispered, failing to look him in the eyes after what you let happen.
Jungwon’s cold hands grazed your waist as the flannel fell from your shoulders, your bra making a clicking sound after he unbuttoned it as well.
“So why’d you let him touch you the way I touch you? Be honest with me,” He urged with a sweet yet thick voice, almost like honey.
“Because... I... I wanted to feel good,” you admitted, a chuckle slipping from your boyfriends throat at your words before he pressed the softest kiss to your lips, whispering within the contact.
“Take off the rest or your clothes and get in the tub, silly.”
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 ❀ Hi hi, anonie and wlcm to the blog !! Tysm for requesting this piece ~ Ik this ask was specifically for something a little more slutty, but I have another ask in my inbox that’s similar to this, so I’m saving the intense stuff for that one huhu !!
 ❀ Make sure to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more fun reads ~
 ❀ [Permanent] Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33
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lightandfellowship · 17 days
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I really love Namine because she's such a great balance of "I want to do good but I'm constantly being forced to do bad" but also "I am willingly doing fucked up things for my own self-interest."
Namine is being forced to mess with Sora's memories by the Organization who is threatening her with harm and imprisonment, but part of her wants to do it because she thinks it's the only way she can cure her loneliness and find love.
When she gives Sora the option to either retain his Castle Oblivion memories or give them up, and he naturally chooses to give them up in order to regain his old memories, despite her smile her dialog/body language/line delivery give off the impression that she's genuinely bitter and hurt that he didn't choose her, despite how unlikely that scenario was.
DiZ puts Namine under a lot of pressure to complete Sora's memory restoration even at the cost of people like Xion and Roxas, but Namine basically admits herself that if given the choice, she'd rather do these terrible things to them than to Sora, even if she sympathizes with them and tries to give them some agency in the matter. She essentially chooses Sora over them, and why wouldn't she in her position? She made a promise to him, and he's her ticket to redemption and friendship.
This is a character who genuinely wants to be a good person and do good but whose circumstances are so overwhelmingly hopeless that there's just no way she can accomplish that completely. A girl who wants to be an angel but who falls on the way up every time. And I think that's neat.
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