#sometimes I struggled a lot with drawing but in the end it wasn’t too bad

[kosmicdream]

Hello. After drawing webcomics for 10 years and making about 10,000 pages of comics, here are some things i have learned/observed in that experience..

1) making comics does not get easier.. Not really

Making comics is a tedious and slow process and with so many different facets of the experience to learn - you’ll never run out of stuff to learn or weaknesses to work on. I’m not saying this to discourage but to just give the frank reality that it really takes a lifetime to understand. Be patient with yourself and try to set healthy expectations. 

2) Read your own comics after making them.

I don’t know if this is as important to other people as it is to me, but I do think that sometimes its easy to not re-read your own work and just go from your own memory of it, or maybe you’re tired of looking at it because of all the flaws. I don’t personally get sucked into the “rewrite/remake” cycle that I know is common with comics, as I sort of just accept things as they are, but re-reading my work does help me see where I have come from and where I need to go to next. I personally don’t like to lose sight of that, and I think re-reading helps ground me in the planning process of my work and gives me a better perspective on all aspects.

3) A lot of comic advice should be taken with a grain of salt, because its the person talking to themselves. (including this)

I see a lot of advice that never would have worked for me, or just simply wasn’t something I was ever going to follow. “Dont start with your big epic long stories”! Is a common one. I don’t think that’s bad advice exactly, but how many young artists are going to listen, especially if they’ve never told a story in the first place? Yes, the advice to start small and build yourself up with experience sounds great, I’m sure people do it, but if you’re an artist you’re probably not gonna be that responsible. And for me, when i tried to do this with eggshells, my house burnt down and i kinda gave up comics for a while because i lost a lot of work. 

Writing short stories is still something I struggle with, its just not easy for me. I have gotten better at it but i don’t think that makes me less of a comic artist because I haven’t gotten good at that particular format, or that I jump around on my projects. Is it more impressive to have more completed work under your belt, sure. But I also think that.. Idk.. what is the advice actually saying, because with that one it sort of feels (often times) as a warning that you’re setting yourself up for failure/embarrassment by attempting a comic like that. I don’t know how to tell you this, but comics are gonna be embarrassing no matter what you do and there’s no guarantee you’ll be more successful/not experience failure by avoiding your passions. Something to think about anyway. 

4) Don’t draw every leaf. Unless you really want to.

I’m the kind of comic artist that kind of doesn’t care about the art as much as the whole package of the comic. When i see a very impressively drawn panel/page, with laborious detail that is well drawn and maybe even colored ect.. That usually is kind of, I guess, a turn off for me as part of the reading experience. The thing is, when i encounter that, it usually signals to me that someone has poor planning skills for comics. It says to me that comic is probably not going to see its end or that artist is overworking themselves in an unnecessary way, that ends up concerning me about how they’re doing. Because i know how hard it is to draw comics. When an artist phones things in a bit, or has a limit on how much they work on a page, its a relief for me to see! because I understand they have healthier boundaries and expectations, and the art itself usually is less stiff too. This is all an overgeneralization, but I think with a lot of webcomic artists we are usually drawing a comic for the first time ever, so it makes sense we want to do our best and try as hard as possible - that just usually isn’t the smartest plan to put all the stock in the visual department. This also kinda frustrates me to see because most comics (professional or not) will also (generally) not reel the art in ever or make a more simple style. Generally I see it always trying to outdo itself, which leads to burn out. I personally only work about 1hr on each page i draw, that hasn’t changed in the 10 years I have been drawing comics, but i used to spend hundreds of hours drawing detailed lineart for eggshells and it didn’t even read well and i’d be disappointed with the results, feeling more lost with my goals than ever. PLEASe.. Just draw worse, its usually better looking in the end too. (because you wont have the experience to judge visual clarity until you’ve been drawing comics for a while imo..)

5) Don’t draw ahead, draw those inbetweenies.

“Inbetweenies” are the pages for the “boring” ones. They are also usually the most common KIND of page. Its the pages that are necessary, but “inbetween” the action. The impact moments in a scene, ect. You gotta draw them. They’re always gonna be there. They’re the pages where maybe, the character is walking somewhere, thinking, ect. The after impact from an action.. There’s a million examples, but hopefully you’ll understand what I mean when I say they’re both necessary pages/panels, sometimes so mundane/redundant, but also required for telling the story.. As a comic is a sequence of images. This is why, the previous advice is also important IMO- because if you really want to “draw every leaf” - maybe you should save that energy and effort for those impact moments that you want to impress the reader with.. And not for the inbetweenies, which are the foundational support, but also not the most important moments. If you conserve your energy a bit, the contrast OF that effort will also pop more. I personally find it funny when I put more effort into a page and end up tricking my readers into thinking I got better at drawing, when really i just have been able to draw better and only save it for moments like this instead of always.

Also, when I say don’t draw ahead.. I mean I draw each page at a time before going to the next one. I have no idea if this is an unusual practice or not, and I know a lot of people will draw their chapters/episodes/whatever in sections like sketch/ink/color/ect.. But I personally draw and finish page by page, unless its the thumb/sketch stage. Even then, i don’t go ahead much. I think that you can control flow/pacing better by doing chapters all at once of course, I see that as a benefit. But i also think that makes things very overwhelming and can also result in a lack of flexibility if something isn’t working. No matter HOW much planning you do- comics are always going to have an aspect of IMPROVISATION with the result you get in the end. There are way too many factors in play to be in complete control of all of them and always know the result of the reading experience. SO for me, this technique is easier and has been something that continues to get me to working effectively. Plus, rumiko takahashi said that’s what she does. And i think she has some of the best visual flow/compositions in comics. So that’s what I do.

I could write more personal advice or rules that i follow..but I think those are the ones I find are the most important to me anyway. Of course, comics are a strange medium and not everything that works for me will work for you. That’s all for now.. Bye bye…! 

Oh by the way, my comics are here: feastforaking.com nastyreddogs.com https://kosmic.itch.io/ Support me on patreon! https://www.patreon.com/kosmic

[lokischocolatefountain]

Hiii if you’re still taking requests, could we have more angsty, jealous Javier? You write his character so good, i love all of it!!! Your married series was absolutely fantastic <3

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. The women he’s with have multiple partners beside him- they’re informants, sex workers, and a lot of times both. He’s no juvenile and doesn’t expect them to not do their job because he can’t share. Besides, there’s a clear transaction with these women- sex in exchange for dollar bills, intelligence in exchange for a visa.

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. At least he doesn’t think he is until he’s with her (the professor he ends up marrying). The relationship starts out casual. She’s a beautiful woman who frequents the restaurant he frequents. They do the decent mating dance of flirtation and buying each other coffee before he takes her back to her place and fucks her thoughts out of her head.

He makes it clear to her that he isn’t looking for something serious. He hasn’t told her the exact nature of her job, but she knows. She has seen the gun on him. She has seen him on a raid, tactical vest on and hand enclosed around his gun. She kicks him out, but only after giving him a kiss and telling him she’d like to do this again. They were on the same page. Until they weren’t.

He’s bad at drawing boundaries. He kissed prostitutes on the forehead, asked them about their young kids and ailing parents, let them drone on about their hopes and dreams. Sure it was important to cultivate a relationship with his informants so that when things got dangerous, they would continue to… inform. But he enjoyed it. He liked knowing the women he slept with, liked asking questions and answering their questions. It was the only human thing left in his life full of violence.

He cannot draw boundaries with her at all. He eats from her refrigerator, drinks her liquor and lies down on her lap and lets her read English literature to him. He picks her up from work sometimes and drops her back the morning after. He fixes her faulty plumbing without even being asked. He finds her carrying heavy bags of groceries and offers to drive her to her place. He takes her grocery shopping and restocks her fridge. He tells himself it’s because he eats so much of her food. Just repaying her.

He’s picking her up from work one night. It boils his blood to learn that he isn’t the only one waiting in the parking area for her. There’s another guy, a professor like her, and he walks with her to his car. He should’ve driven away as soon as he noticed her with another man. But he doesn’t. He stares hard enough to burn a hole in the dress she wore when he first slept with her. It was flattering on her figure, highlighting her best assets— her entire goddamn body. Clearly she wore this dress when she was hoping to get laid. He drives away before she could notice him. He finds someone else that night. Plenty of fish in the sea, right? Except he screams her name when he’s balls deep in Helena.

She’s at their restaurant the next morning, having breakfast and drinking coffee like she didn’t go fuck someone else just last night. He sits at his old table instead of joining her like he always did. She looks a little hurt by it, but quickly fixes her expression to smile at him. Good. Be hurt. He is aware he’s being irrational. And a pig. She was free to sleep with all of Bogotá if she wished. God knows he did. She wasn’t doing anything wrong just like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But he’s angry at her anyway.

Work takes him to Medellin for days and when he returns, he finds himself at her doorsteps. He feels right at home in her arms, in her pussy, and he doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to get up and leave even though everything in him is begging him to leave before it was too late. He struggles between the rational part of him that knows it’s best to leave and the irrational one that wants to pull her to his chest and fall asleep breathing her in. She makes the decision for him.

She’d asked in the nicest possible way to fuck right off. Well, not really. But she might as well have kicked him out. She asks for clarification “what are we doing, Javi?” There is it, he thinks. He was always clear about his intentions with women, but he’s had a few of them believe that they could “fix” him. Whatever the hell that meant. And he had to break their heart, tell them it was just sex like they’d originally agreed. But she surprises him.

She calls him out on his shit, tells him he’s giving her mixed signals with taking her grocery shopping and meeting her up at work. She tells him he can’t have it both ways. “I have a date with a colleague this Sunday. It’ll be weird if I’m with him, thinking about how sweet it was of you to take my car for an oil change. That’s not umm…it’s not fuckbuddy stuff.” It’s boyfriend stuff.

Her drawing the boundaries for him should’ve helped. But god it doesn’t. All he wants to do that week is walk into her university campus and punch that fucker who was taking his girl out on a date. It was stupid, dangerous and reprehensible. But fucking hell, he couldn’t do shit while thinking about her with another man. Would she let the guy fuck her in his car like she let him? Would she cry his name? Would she accidentally let a low Javi slip out of her pretty lips out of habit?

He stops visiting the restaurant. He doesn’t need breakfast anyway. He fucks other women, fucks his own fist, but none of them come close to the euphoria of being inside her, of kissing her and drinking her moans in just as he made her cum on his cock. Nobody comes close. It’s for the best. He cannot afford emotional entanglements. It was for her good that she pulled away when she did. This was no life for anyone and attaching herself to him would mean having to endure his shit.

He can’t stop thinking about her. He freezes in the middle of the fucking street with his gun pulled on some guy because he thinks he saw her in the distance. It’s not her, he knows that. She was in Bogotá and he was in Medellin. It’s not her. But he sees her in everything. He finds himself reading fiction, for fuck’s sake. He finds her panties stuffed into the cushions of his couch and smells it to get himself off. It was creepy as shit, but it’s the hardest he’s come since he stopped seeing her.

He drives by their restaurant and catches a glimpse of her having breakfast with that guy. At their restaurant, at their table. He’s filled with rage towards her new man, at her. How could she just take this guy to their restaurant and have breakfast at their table? Like he didn’t even fucking exist. How long had this been going on? Was it well before he saw them in the parking lot that evening? Did she bring him here whenever Javi was away in Medellin?

He brings another girl to his leather couch that night and tries not to think about how she could be at home right now, fucking her colleague in the same bed she fucked him. Did she ask him about his interests? Run her fingers through his hair? Touch his arms and tell him how strong he was? He wants to laugh at himself. Of course she didn’t do that last one. The fucker she was with had noodle arms. They wouldn’t satisfy her. He wouldn’t satisfy her. Javi knew her body in and out, knew all the right buttons to push, had her wrapped around his little finger and his cock.

Two months and he’s strong in his resolve. He still think about her, still keeps her panties tucked under his pillow like a low grade pervert, still thinks of beating the shit out of her new guy. Hell, she was probably in love with him by now. Probably a nice guy who didn’t sleep around and actually came home on time.

It’s the oddest thing that breaks him. Surveillance pictures from Escobar’s family vacation. The piece of shit has a whole wife. Keeps his mother and cousin close. Even that fucking monster had family. Doesn’t he deserve to at least take the girl he can’t get out of his head to a nice dinner? Loneliness creeps into his days and nights. No matter how many informants he beds, there’s a growing void in his chest.

Rather than drive home that night, he drives to hers. He wakes her up at an odd hour and all he can think of is whether she was in bed with the new guy when he rang the doorbell. She looked both surprised and annoyed to find him at her door. He couldn’t blame her for either of those things— he did drop off the face of the Earth and it was way past a decent hour to drop by someone’s place. He wants to hold her face in his hand and press a kiss to her lips. But he didn’t have permission for that anymore. So he just says “Dinner?”

Series Masterlist

[lilikitsune18]

Officer it’s this one right here he crashed my drawing program and refused to cooperate

@neodracunyan here’s the criminal the one who broke my drawing program so bad I’m going to have to archive everything and clear its data again and it hasn’t even been 3 months since I last did that for spring cleaning. I love how he came out in the end but he crashed my program 5 times while I was working on him and has caused it to lag and crash constantly ever since. I adore this boi but I will always have hard feelings for his reference sheet. He looks so smug about it too.

Below the cut is my usual ramble as well as the sketches and shape study for this one. (He has taught me many things completely on accident)

So let’s talk about this.

I started by sketching up a kickin that will never see the light of day fate just looking up my reference images and eyeballing it.

That kickin was really really ugly.

I know saying these things about one’s own art can seem degrading and derogatory but believe me when I say I got a second opinion and they agreed that chicken was ugly.

And they didn’t even know I was showing them my own art so I know it’s true.

So then I did the shape study and figured out why this wasn’t working the same as the others.

Then came a lot of trial and error of pushing different combinations of these shapes and builds together until I got a siluette that seemed to work (this was the one I used for the final version of kickin)

Then came the face which was also a matter with which I struggled but eventually figured out.

Despite all of these setbacks I do really like how kickin came out in the end (especially the side profile view) and once all of the struggles were through I really really ended up liking how he came out .

So let’s actually talk about this design now shall we?

Let’s start with the kickin hawk design. This design benefited from the fact that I knew who kickins partner is before choosing colors so I decided to make his grey clothing pieces blue toned in the same shade as bubba. It’s not super noticeable in the reference sheet because it’s surrounded by its complimentary and cross-complimentary colors (orange and yellow) making it look far more desaturated than it actually is. My intent is for the rest of the dark critters to have this same partnering motif from here on out in their color palettes (bubba will get kickins yellow, Bobby will get craftys cyan/teal color, and picky will get something green for hoppy) this will add a sort of visual synergy between each partner set making it more clear when they’re together as a group who the usual pairs are. (Instead of redoing catnap and dogday to fit this rule lets just say that their synergy thing is the red smoke bc when I designed them I didn’t know they were going to be put together as an individual pair instead of being with the rest of the critters as a group.) the idea for how kickin hawks weapons work is that they’re magnetic (either the holsters or a specific point on the weapon itself) and depending on which weapon it is will attach to a different point on his belt (think like polarity the nunchucks won’t attach to the spot where the guns go because the poles in its magnets don’t match the ones for the guns to attach to. This also means that if an enemy has a huge magnet they are guaranteed to never get all of kickins weapons because some of them will have opposing polarity and be repelled by the magnet instead of attracted to it a.k.a science is cool sometimes) The mask is for similar reasons to dogdays because of the fact that bubba uses lots of chemicals and gases similar to catnaps when fighting and kickin doesn’t want to deal with the loose gases effects (at that moment at least I feel like kickin would absolutely be bubba Guinea pig whenever he has a new variation to test) I also dyed some of his feathers with streaks of the reddish orange color because I feel like the moment he got the freedom to choose his appearance he’d go and change it. And uh yeah that’s about it for kickins ramble but if you have questions about the design choices feel free to ask ( while some of these guys may bite I won’t!)

[definitelynotshouting]

I’ve been trying to grasp why I’ve been so in love with hunger au, and it wasn’t until looking up the lyrics to ‘ibuprofen’ to try and spoil the next chapter for myself (I am very good at making things up) that I figured out why.

Your World building is beautiful and I’m a massive sci-fi fan I thought that was why I was originally so invested, but I realized that the entire story (as of rn) can be read as a metaphor for a type of personality disorder?

This isn’t me saying that the story MUST be a metaphor, or even that you intentionally wrote it like that, but goddamn it does click some button in me like oh!!

Sometimes w personality disorders it feels like all you can do is hurt people. You’re carefully restricting your actions and expressions so you dont ever get too comfortable and hurt someone, but you inevitably fail and all you can do is feel bad because you were able to be yourself and meet some kind of internal satisfaction but the result is other people being hurt and you still aren’t happy cause that’s inherently a bad thing.

And then the logical conclusion is that you should never speak or hang out with people (or like. Live.) ever again because it’s not right to be hurting other people with your mere existence.

Idk if anyone else has mentioned this before but yeah that’s this for me lol. But!! Help exists!!! and Grian will get help too with his watcher tendencies after he realizes that his existence isn’t inherently detrimental and that there are solutions for his problems if he uses his big boy words and asks.

And no one will forgive him for what’s happened overnight, and those who forgive him will still have been hurt, and some of his relationships will be permanently altered because of the way he’s hurt them. But it’s not the end for him and it’s not the end for anyone else!!

Sorry this is so long! Idk if I should tag anything sensitive in case you decide to respond so Ima leave that to you— I’m a tumblr lurker I’ve been here for years but never commented on anything lol. Ty for the story, keep living laughing and loving (It’s what Grian would want apparently) and have a good one!

placing some obligatory tws here for those with post filtering: tw for discussions of mental health, personality disorders, and minor suicidal ideation (in the ask)

alright with that out of the way this is actually really validating for me to hear bc a lot of what you're seeing in this has been inserted very deliberately. While its not intended to fully be a metaphor for having a personality disorder, a lot of what's been depicted does draw on that, so im really glad this resonates with you!!

At its heart and core, hunger au is about the raw process of recovery, and how grueling but ultimately rewarding it is to commit to getting better. Showing this process through the fic is, i suppose, my way of holding the hand of everyone who is struggling with their own recovery and saying "i see you. i understand. you arent alone."

I cant overstate how humbled i am by everyone who has taken the time to tell me how theyve seen themselves in hunger au. And the fic is just getting started!!! The fact that people are resonating this hard with it at only 5 chapters in just blows me away. Its everything ive wanted for this fic. Thank you for taking the time to tell me this, because im truly so grateful that i am making an impact with it, no matter how small or personal.

[kibbits]

I want to talk more fluff about your Break a Leg!Boys (I’m having a bad time medically and I need more positive energy before I send myself spiraling). Late night movies become an eventual habit, not only for the boys to take notes on improving their skills. There’s something magical about watching Sun and Moon experience things outside of Fazbear’s control. Of course, they can only live vicariously through the scenes, but there’s times when you can genuinely see something that wasn’t just fabricated through lines of code. Watching them plaster themselves to the screen, vibrating with pure excitement as daring battles of good and evil play out. The way Sun’s frame tenses as the hero struggles compared to Moon’s growing intrigue. Movies with less clear villains don’t entirely go over their heads though sometimes they need clarification. Some may love the questions and some may not. As they grow closer to Y/N, they may request to watch a more of their favorite films rather then the original course of kid movies. Which of course leads them to more adult musicals, you can’t tell me there wasn’t a week that Y/N didn’t regret letting Moon watch Phantom of the Opera.

Hi Anon!!! Oh man, I'm sorry you're going through it -- sending you all the good vibes and sending you soup (and hugs if you like them!) mentally! 🍲💖💖💖💖💖

(also ough your asks keep making me draw stuff so I hold onto them but also I'm juggling a lot of things rn so I don't end up having the time to draw aa --i'll just answer them now, and then come back to them if I have art to add from now on haha)

But yes!!! Yes absolutely!! Y/N is pretty much given carte blanche to rehabilitate the boys. They might play it safe with management/the boys' morals and go for kids' movies at first, but Y/N definitely starts to sneak in their favorites pretty soon! I think Sun would end up liking things like Princess Bride a lot! > : ) Yeees Phantom of the Opera for Moon!! I think both would be happy as long as the battle of good and evil is grandiose -- they do love dramatics, and when the action leaves you on the edge of your seat! gfjkld

Sun likes a good heroic monologue, and happily ever afters --though he's the one that ends up liking when things are more morally grey and make you think deeply long after the movie's over.

Moon is very happy that Villain Songs tend to slap so hard dfdjklg He's aware that villains don't usually win unless it's horror, and he doesn't mind that -- he just wants to have fun. So he likes flashy villains ehehe.

I think Sun would end up going for complex or powerful, well-told stories, and Moon would end up very interested in like. The visual aspect? (Megamind voice: Presentation!!) since he also takes care of the light rig and stuff like that, he'd incorporate strong color changes and be interested in things like how people's placement on stage, color, and lighting give the scene a different vibe.

Despite the gremlin tendencies he never moves away from, he's pretty meticulous and particular, and instead of Fazbear's 'more is more' approach to special effects and flashy additions, he'd learn to do subtle and unsettling changes well, as well as flashy but not too much. Now I'm picturing them using a system with cast shadows/'shadow puppets' to have an epic sword fight despite only being one body

The moment Y/N starts to see signs of how much they get into the movies -signs of the boys' actual, long-buried personalities - they get super invested. They make it their personal mission to show them as much as they can, and the duo/trio (since. Sun and Moon aren't separate. can you IMAGINE in this AU--) often end up more interested in the other one's reaction more than the movie (like say in your example where Sun is tense and practically glued to the screen, Y/N is probably staring at him way more than the movie, just as invested in his reaction as Sun is in the story.)

Y/N ends up looking so closely that they start to see more of their personality and preferences - probably even before the boys realize it about themselves (or, well, before they have the time to analyze and acknowledge it themselves) so they take notes and show them more movies they think will fit their tastes

On that note, Y/N totally ends up 1)Getting a library card to rent DVDs/An external drive to.... *find* movies/filmed performances pretty early on, and 2)having secret slumber parties with the boys ALL the time

I think Y/N should end up being handler and stage director, with a good helping of working on props and costume (or at least working with them on costume designs/helping with quick fixes) and they probably help the boys cobble together homemade fan merch/costumes when they ask ehehe or as a surprise! (They do and don't regret making them a very swishy cape during Moon's Phantom phase)

Thanks so much for the asks!!!! They make my day, every time!! I hope you feel better!!!

[sunshinejeonglixie]

When did you get so big?

tags: sfw, gender dysphoria, trans male character, ot8 but i.n focus, everything is platonic, fluffy & soft but also kinda sad idk i'm not good at tagging

description: Jeongin is trans, he tries to hide his struggles from the members most of the time but sometimes its just too hard.

link to ao3: here

!!Everything written here is fiction, not meant to be taken as real life, if anything here makes you uncomfortable please just block & move on!!

Jeongin is trans, all the members know that and have for a long time. When he was a trainee all the boys found out at different times, but they were all supportive just the same.

Especially Chan.

Chan has always been there for Jeongin during his bad dysphoria days and was there for all the good moments too. He was there to comfort Jeongin when he came out to the other members, he was there when Jeongin started testosterone, and when he got his legal name change.

Jeongin isn’t one to show often when the dysphoria gets to him, he hides it, so he doesn’t feel like an inconvenience to the others. He knows he can deal with it by himself, so he does. The other members can usually spot when he’s having a hard day, but they know to let him deal with it in his own way. If he really wants comfort, he’ll find them when he needs it.

Today has been harder than usual though. Long schedules, tiring performances, and lots of people constantly rushing around them all. It’s exhausting. Jeongin had been put in a tighter outfit, one that was a little more uncomfortable than usual, a little more revealing too, which was a set up for disaster already.

They only had one more recording to do for the day, it was their Music Core stage, and Chan could already tell Jeongin wasn’t gonna be able to handle much more

“Are you ok baby?” Chan whispers to Jeongin “mhm. Don’t worry about me” Jeongin smiles big back at Chan “Are you sure? You look a little uncomfortable” Chan says as Jeongin starts to pull at his outfit again “I’m fine hyung. Promise. 😊” “Ok…” Chan didn’t fully believe Jeongin but he decided to let it go and hope he’d come ask for help if he needed it.

*After filming*

“You did so well Innie!” Felix says while jumping around him Jeongin gave a small smile to Felix but was obviously struggling and very anxious.

Everyone started heading back to the dressing rooms and getting their makeup and stage outfits off getting ready to go home.

Everyone is sitting around different spots of the dressing room, Hyunjin is sitting in the window drawing, Seungmin is on the floor in a corner just listening to music, Minho & Jisung are sitting at a table watching some new anime, but the trio that caught Chan’s eye was Jeongin sitting in the corner spot of the couch with Felix in front of him and Changbin next to him. Lix & Binnie were obviously chattering and excited while poking at Jeongin and teasing him, not even noticing how nervous and upset Jeongin looked. Chan took a seat on the other end of the couch deciding to let Jeongin handle himself, besides he’s an adult now, he doesn’t need big brother Chan stepping in always, right?

“Can you guys sit anywhere else? I’m trying to watch something” Jeongin says clearly irritated “Aww but we wanna hang out with baby Innie!” Lix giggles “pleaseee let us stay?” Changbin whines

Jeongin just stays silent obviously not wanting to argue

“Can we watch too?” Felix asks “No. you guys just need to find something else to do.” Jeongin says very irritated “We wanna hang out with you though baby” Changbin says while wrapping his arm around Jeongin’s waist and trying to pull him closer “Let go” Jeongin says much stricter than before “We’re just teasing honey, it's all jokes” Felix says softly “STOP! I told you to leave me alone and you still won’t stop” Jeongin yelled. He immediately stood up and walked out of the dressing room

Everyone in the room was quiet until Felix stood up to follow after Jeongin

“Lixie leave him alone for a bit” Jisung suggests “No, I have to go apologize. We were being rude” Felix says in a serious tone “Love, just leave him be, ok?” Hyunjin softly grabs Felix’s wrist before he can leave

Felix slowly sits down in Hyunjin’s lap, obviously very upset.

Changbin looked very anxious as well, neither one meaning to truly upset Jeongin.

Chan waits a few minutes before walking out to go find Jeongin

Jeongin has a few hiding spots everywhere they go regularly, dark corners, quiet spots outside, even small closets if he can’t find anywhere else. Just anywhere that doesn’t have many people, lights, or noises. So, Chan immediately knows where to find him. He starts walking downstairs from the dressing room and keeps going until he gets to the back corner of one of the waiting rooms. Immediately he sees something on the floor that looks like a pile of clothes and quickly realizes its Jeongin that has tucked himself into his hoodie

“Baby?” Chan says softly

All he gets in response is some sniffles and quick breathing

“Jeonginnie?”

Jeongin slowly pokes his head out of his hoodie, eyes red and swollen with tears still coming down his face

“Hi love” Chan slowly sits down on the floor next to Jeongin “Hyung I’m sorry” Jeongin cries “Sorry for what baby?” “Sorry I yelled at Lix and Changbin…” “No no lovely they’re not mad at you at all don’t worry. They’re both sorry they kept bothering you.”

Jeongin scoots closer to Chan slowly, so Chan starts to wrap his arm around Jeongin’s shoulder until Jeongin flinches and Chan takes his arm away

“Baby whats goin on? You never get this upset just when lix and binnie tease you like that” “You guys really think of me like a baby brother, right?” “Of course, Innie, you’re our baby brother always. What makes you think we don’t? Did someone say something that made you think that?” “No… just feeling bad again.”

Chan was used to comforting Jeongin during his bad times with dysphoria. When he was a trainee, it was much worse and happened a lot more often but even now he still has hard and bad days, so of course Chan is still there for him no matter what.

“Do you wanna talk more about what you’re feeling or do you just wanna sit here quietly?” “I don’t know… I hate feeling like this. I feel trapped in my own body all the time. Nothing looks right or sounds right or feels right and I hate it. No matter how hard I try it still feels wrong. I even feel jealous of you guys getting the things I want. Which I’m sure makes me a terrible person…”

Hearing Jeongin sound so sad and defeated made Chan’s heart hurt so bad. Jeongin was one of his first members and his youngest so he feels a huge need to take care of him and protect him so when he can’t do anything to help it feels horrible.

“No no baby you are a wonderful person, don’t ever believe any different please. I’m sorry you have to deal with feeling all this, I wish I could just take it all away and you could feel comfortable always.”

Jeongin starts to cry again and crawls into Chan’s lap

“When did you get so big? I can’t even hug you now…”

Hearing that just makes Jeongin cry more

"Oh baby I didn't mean to upset you more. I'll always hug you and hold you anytime you want." Chan says softly "I know. It's still hard to grow bigger than my oldest hyung..." Jeongin says quietly

After some time in silence Jeongin speaks up

“I wanna go back and apologize to Felix and Changbin” “Lovely you don’t have to apologize to them” “I want to though.” Jeongin says much calmer and more relaxed than earlier

They both stood up and started back to the dressing room while holding hands

As soon as they open the door to the dressing room Jeongin gets attacked by Felix with hugs and apologies

“I’m sorry Innie we should’ve listened to you; we didn’t mean to make you upset and hurt you” Felix says it all so fast he’s not even sure everyone understood what he was saying “It’s ok hyung, I’m not mad at you or Changbin hyung. I'm sorry for yelling.”

Changbin walks over and puts his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder

“We really are sorry Jeongin-ah, we should’ve stopped when you said to stop.”

Finally, everyone finishes packing up and makes plans for dinner and other activities they wanna do after work.

Chan walks over to Jeongin and quietly nudges his arm

“You wanna come over for movies and ice cream tonight? Might help you feel better. You can borrow one of my bigger hoodies too if you want.” “What kind of ice cream?” “Anything you want, even special milkshakes. I’ll find it for you.” “I want chocolate ice cream… and cookies.” “And cookies??” “Hyung don’t be mean.” “I wasn’t being mean; I was surprised you wanted both. But of course, I’ll get you both.”

They all load up in the vans with Jeongin going to 3racha+Hyunjin’s dorm for the night and the other 3 getting in the other van heading to their own dorm. Chan asking the manager to stop so he can hop out and get ice cream and cookies for Jeongin

When they get to the dorms Chan gets ice cream, cookies, and an oversized hoodie for Jeongin while they try to figure out what movie to watch. They finally decide on a studio Ghibli movie and plop down on the couch.

Of course, almost immediately the other 3 members in the dorm ask to join them for the movie, Chan & Jeongin say yes so Han & Hyunjin set themselves on the floor while Changbin sits in one of the chairs behind them

Chan and Jeongin snuggle themselves together on the couch while eating ice cream and cookies

“Feeling better baby?” Chan whispers to Jeongin “A little, still uncomfortable but I’m happy you guys help me.” “I’m glad you’re happy lovely”

After the movie ends Chan looks around the room and sees Han & Hyunjin curled up on the floor together sleeping, Changbin in his chair asleep, and he notices Jeongin is also asleep while curled into Chan. He can’t help but smile at how happy his kids make him. He decides that the couch might be a little uncomfortable for Jeongin all night, so he very carefully picks him up and carries him to his room and gently sets him down in bed and tucks him in, quickly gives him a kiss on the forehead and quietly walks out of the room.

Turns out he can still hold his baby after all.

~End~

[adultswim2021]

Frisky Dingo #14: “Behold a Dark Horse” | August 27, 2007 - 12:00AM | S02E01

Hey, it’s no longer Robot Chicken! I have a different show to review! Neat! 

This is the season opener of Frisky Dingo, which if you’ll recall ended on a cliffhanger. That season ended with Killface’s Anhiliatrix firing up, presumably sending planet Earth to meet it’s “Doom”. Turns out that didn’t happen. What actually happened is the Anhilatrix conked out after a meager few seconds and managed to push the Earth slightly AWAY from the Sun. This inadvertently cured global warming, which Killface is now taking credit for and parlaying into a bid for the presidency. I believe he’s the Democratic nominee for president. The Sealab dicks are doing POLITICAL SATIRE? Where do I sign up??? 

This show, being highly serialized, demands a certain amount of attention to detail I can’t shirk easily. But this one sorta re-establishes some of our principals, focusing on Killface’s camp. Xander Crewes is nowhere to be seen, mirroring the first season’s opener, which didn’t introduce him properly until the second episode. Killface is running for president. He has a campaign manager, who is an older southern woman that says crass things sometimes. He’s still the subject of assassination attempts by the one lady. The “this is for Cody” guy (whose name I forg— WENDELL. I think it’s Wendell!) is his head of security. He’s comically bad at his job. Killface is struggling in the polls but the polls are literally made up by Mr. Ford. The campaign manager wants Taqu'il, the popular rapper, to be his VP. Killface notes that him being black might be an issue. 

This was firmly while Obama was campaigning to be the DNC presidential nominee, so to say this was “before Obama” would be slightly wrong. He announced his candidacy in January of 2007. This could then be seen as a satirical jab at people who claimed America wasn’t ready for a black president, I suppose. In fact, I’m guessing there’s a lot of nuanced references to the then-current race to the presidency that I’m completely forgetting. Please, don’t make me remember stuff about politics. PLEASE. 

I think I sorta hit all the big ideas story-wise. The other big thing is that this show is now in full-on Mockumentary mode. The show seems to draw inspiration from Tanner ‘88 (probably? I forget why I think this and haven’t seen all of Tanner ‘88) and of course Arrested Development. In fact, the show has never been more Arrested Development-like.

I remember this season being slightly better than the first, though I remember very little about it. I also remember feeling like it was firing on all cylinders at one point a few episodes before it concluded, but then it sorta petered out. Not sure I ever watched these again past their initial airing. I felt very lukewarm on this watch, and I’m not too confident that this will hold up well. But we’ll see, I guess.

OH I FORGOT: There’s a little penguin in this show now. He became some sort of mascot of the global warming movement for being cute and separated from his native land because a piece of glacier breaks off and sends him on his way towards the equator. He becomes the mascot of Killface’s presidential bid, which is running entirely on the fact that he cured global warming and very little else. So he’s a guy on here. Please think of him.

MAIL BAG

speaking of dick tracvey did you see the dick travey cey special?

Brother I’m saving it. For my wedding night.

[pastorsperspective]

"God Calls Us to Give a Crap"

It’s Friday once again. It’s been a long cold week; I hope everyone has stayed safe and warm! The sermon this week was titled, “The Emotions of Life: Empathy”. If you were unable to be with us, you can listen to the message here: https://fb.watch/isZz5xJ_6c/ My favorite line from this sermon was obviously what I used for the title of this blog. As we were out of office most of the week due to icy roads, what follows is the questions that I asked Pastor Chad via email. I missed our weekly sermon discussion and look forward to having one next week.

I got a good chuckle out of Pastor Chad’s description of a New York Subway and decided to ask just for my own curiosity, have you ever been on a subway in New York?

I have, one occasion was not peaceful, but there was another where it was quieter like what the story illustrated. 

Do you think that empathy comes easier for women? Jesus knew the beginning from the end and he said, why is that our problem, essentially. It seems like a strange concept that his mother would be the one to urge HIM to show empathy. I never thought of it like that. 

I think its contextual. Women were much more likely to hold wedding feasts so in this situation, yes. At the same time there are examples where empathy is shown by men more than we see from women. Same in today’s time, guys empathize with men’s struggle more easily than women do sometimes and vice versa. Similarly, abuse victims can more easily empathize with other abuse victims. I think that’s the beauty of it, when our experiences can draw us closer to God and to others that’s grace to me!!!!

What does it mean when Jesus says it is not yet my time? 

Most scholars see this as a reference to revealing His glory. The miracle was going to blow things wide open for his popularity and people knowing he is the Messiah. Trouble is people had a LOT of different views about what, who, when, how, and why regarding the Messiah. Jesus still had a lot to do before these conclusions were going to be made. 

If empathy means to take the time to care what others are going through, does that mean in that moment Jesus didn’t care? 

I think we again see here the human side of Jesus. I don't think Jesus didn’t care; I don't think he at first empathized as deeply as his mother was. The key part is this didn't stop him. Jesus was without sin, yes, but certainly wasn’t without temptation and was human in many ways. 

I have been guilty of thinking that I didn’t have to care about something, but it’s not because I didn’t actually care. It was because I care far too much and I feel like if I care about this thing, then I have to care about all things. I can’t help with all things so, it’s emotionally overwhelming sometimes. Is there ever a good time to “not care”? 

Well in short, yes, and no. We can’t save the world and we aren't the savior of the world, we have to be very careful. So, yes, knowing our limits and our place is important. At the same time to never care is equally bad and we must trust when the Spirit is prompting us to move. There is a big difference between empathizing and acting. We can empathize about all difficulties; we just have to be clear which ones God is calling us to move on and do something. The question to ask though is do we always move and act when God is calling? To never do anything means we are ignoring Gods callings to both empathize and act. 

Wow, I never really thought of it like that. It’s definitely something to keep in mind. Be sure to come on back next Friday for our conversation on Understanding! In the meantime, if you were unable to join us for our first ever Rooted Worship service, I would encourage you to check it out here: https://fb.watch/is_0Ejvqg9/

[yandere-sins]

In The CEO’s Office

POV: We all wanted more of the CEO.

Warnings: Yandere, Lemon, Non-Con, Public Fuckery, Almost getting caught, Tied up wrists, Asshole getting what he wants, Forced Penetration, Forced Oral, AFAB!Body Reader, Is it a forced orgasm? Maybe, I wrote this way too late into the night OTL, 4k words so take your time reading it

“Mr. Thornton!” you gasped, horrified as he tightened his necktie around your wrists firmly. You could endure him and his unsavory touches to a certain degree. Yes, it was true you climbed on his lap on his orders without much hesitation, just to get it over with. Your boss certainly needed a lot of attention and affection, and you knew that the faster you got it over with, the quicker you’d be back in your own office chair.

But no one talked about tying you up, though!

Struggling with the tie, you tried to look at it from under your arm, only seeing the neat, reversed ribbon he put on you. A terrifying sense of being at his mercy washed over you as you glanced back at him, encountering the cocky, confident grin he always wore as he leaned back, admiring you as he lounged in his chair. Without saying it out loud, he told you that he certainly wouldn’t untie you, now that he had you where he wanted. He was a man who saw the discomfort, the awkwardness in your eyes and laughed about it, after all.

Even when he pushed himself onto you, revealed all these ugly sides he harbored in only one night, he never seemed to take you seriously for even a moment. You knew he had the upper hand in all of this; it was the only reason you stayed employed at his company. And yet, you couldn’t help cursing him under his breath as your kept trying to pull the necktie open, twisting and turning your wrists unsuccessfully.

“It’s Ryan, I told you.”

His reminder was followed by his fingers flicking under your chin, drawing your attention back to him and away from your restraints, even though you were scowling by now. Ryan wasn’t a man of unnecessary words, especially not when he could achieve what he wanted by simply pushing you around and treating you like a toy he bought. Revolting disgust was growing in your throat as you obliged, making him happy beyond belief as he felt your gaze back on him, leaving your eyes to observe the rest of you instead.

Taking in every inch of your body, his hands followed his gaze. They kept getting stuck on things like your collar, the buttons of your shirt, and the waistband of your skirt, deliberately holding their position on each of them before moving on. Without being a mind-reader, you could imagine what was going on in his head. The way he licked his lips and absorbed your image, he very clearly was already undressing you in his daydreams, and you had no choice but to let him.

Even if your hands hadn’t been tied behind your back and your legs weren’t dangling from either side of his body while he sandwiched you between his chest and his table in the back, you doubted you would have done much. Sometimes it was easier to let him do his thing; let him have his fun. If it was just teasing and some groping, you’d be able to endure it; besides, you two were still in the office. Even if he was a maniac, he would do anything that could ruin both of your reputations within the company, right? Despite being crazy, he wasn’t completely out of his mind and would waste all the respect he built up over the years by fucking you in his office. Right?!

You were almost confident that he wouldn’t overstep at your job as he did in your apartment or the hotel rooms you used to flee from him. If anyone saw you two like this, it would ruin much more than just your - already pretty bad - reputation, but also the one of the highly respected, and at times feared, CEO of the company. Word spread like wildfire, and soon it would also end up in the ears of clients and potential customers. This was a lot more serious than just having you bend over to pick up pens and documents for him that he threw to the floor, or rubbing his hand against your ass as you two welcomed clients.

“Mr. Thornton, we��”

Receiving a sharp glare from him as you interrupted his admiring of your thighs draped over his, you swallowed down your sentence, quickly correcting yourself. “Ryan.”

“What is it, my dear?” he asked with a longing sigh, applying his attention back to his hands occupied with running his fingers up and down the inside of your leg.

“I don’t feel comfortable doing… it here. Can we… Can we go home for that?”

It took you a lot of effort to title your home as belonging to both of you. Admittedly, he bought it for you, but ever since he forced you into this affair, he occupied it as well—much to your misery. Still, you knew and saw the joy of hearing your choice of words reflected in his smile, widening a little before he contemplated your plea.

“And what-” Grabbing you from under your thighs, he lifted you a tiny bit to sit up straight instead of leaning back. You squeaked in surprise, but he didn’t even show one sign of exhaustion lifting you, easily placing you further up on his lap, so your faces were only inches away from each other. “--do tell, is ‘it’?”

Gulping, you lowered your voice, barely whispering the words in his direction. “Sex. I don’t want anyone to see us like this, please!”

“Oh!” he chimed. “Are you scared someone will come in and see me fucking out your pretty, little brain?”

At his choice of words, you couldn’t help but grimace before reluctantly agreeing, “Yes.”

“Say it,” he teased you. “I want to hear what you thought we were going to do in this room.”

“I thought,” you mumbled, shivering from embarrassment as you only thought about the words. Taking a deep breath, Ryan gave you all the time you needed with that asshole grin playing on his lips that you were awfully used to by now. “I thought you were going to bend me over your table and fuck me so that the whole office would know what we’re doing.”

“Oh no,” he chuckled. Leaning forward, Ryan kissed your jawline, approving of your compliance and rewarding you for it with his affection. “You’re wrong, Sweetheart. I was not going to fuck you on my table even though it’s nice to see where your mind’s drifting off to when you’re with me.”

Part of you wanted to correct him, tell him they were his words after all. But he just confirmed he wasn’t going to cross the line with you that day, and for that, you had to be thankful and let it rest. Now all you needed to do was endure and let him have his fun until he’d throw you away again out of boredom—just like always.

Wandering lips were accompanied by greedy hands, one running down your back and slipping between your body and your arms on the search for your ass to grope. The others moved just slightly under his kissing and sucking lips, paving the way for his affection. You felt the tip of his nail scratch over your collarbone, widening your shirt’s collar before dropping to the first button and hooking under it.

With a surprising Rip! the button popped off, opening your chest up further to him. “H-Hey!” you complained, panicked, trying to come up with an excuse to your co-workers as to why you were missing that button while Ryan groaned happily against your neck. “I bought this for you. I can do with my property as I please.”

Biting your lip, you held back any snarky remark you could have made, knowing very well that he didn’t just mean the shirt on your body with his comment. You were just as much a possession as your clothes were, or your apartment, or your phone. Really, anything you owned by now was his to own, even though this would be hard to explain to your co-workers either way.

“Please be careful. I need to go out and wear this for the rest of the day,” you whispered, ashamed, and Ryan chuckled amusedly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck before letting out a satisfied sigh. “I’d like it if you were to work in your underwear or nothing at all, you know. Want me to give you a new uniform in the future?”

“P-Please don’t…” you stuttered, understanding his hints to not pursue this topic any longer. It was his way of saying, “I don’t care how you’re going to explain this when you go out there.” There were no words to ideally vent your frustration about him with, so instead, you complied as he nibbled at your throat, knowing he’d leave you covered in hickies again, lined up around your neck like a collar.

Meanwhile, both of his hands were gripping and squeezing at your curves, one on your ass, the other slipping into your shirt and under your bra, teasing your breast hidden behind the fabric. These days, there wasn’t much you could wear anymore without feeling like you were wearing him. Everything you owned came from him, and it felt like he was always embracing you through your clothes, playing and teasing you with his touches. Most of the time, you forced yourself to ignore it, but now that he really was touching you, it was hard to forget.

Slipping your tit out and into the open, it was the next stop for his mouth. However, not without glancing up at you mischievously, making you watch as he pressed his lips against your nipple, suckling like an infant. Thankfully, you didn’t have to deal with a pregnant body, so no matter how much he played with your knob, he would get no satisfaction if you kept your voice down. However, Ryan was so damn persistent. While you struggled to keep quiet, he bit into the hardening nipple, causing the smallest of whimper from you, and you quickly averted your eyes as he began to grin wickedly, continuing to bully you.

He knew exactly how to twist and bend you, having spent night after night treating you like a fucktoy until you didn’t know the difference between up and down anymore. Every one of his touches was a practiced grip on your body, one that would send goosebumps over your skin and moans off your lips. Ryan treated you like his work: efficient and skillfully.

Had this relationship been consensual, you probably wouldn’t have to constantly fight with yourself about how your body burned wherever he touched you. You wouldn’t have shamed and scolded yourself for feeling good as he ravaged your breasts and began hiking up your skirt to press his fingers to your cunt from behind. Surprised, you jumped, your mouth opening, and finally, the sounds of pleasure he wanted so much echoed through the room, making you feel his grin against your breast.

“Good ~” Ryan purred, and you tried to catch yourself before anything else escaped you.

“Be a bit louder and let the people hear how good I am making you feel.”

“Ryan!” you huffed, appalled by the idea he tried to put into your head. Using a moment of his carelessness, you backed away from him, forcing him to stop. Disgruntled, he glared at you while you held eye contact with him, wishing you could pull your shirt close and finally escape from this. But he wouldn’t have it.

One arm still around your waist, his fingers kept pressing against your pussy, probed at your entrance. Once. Twice. Then he slipped your underwear aside to dip in. He didn’t get far, but scissoring his fingers, you finally noticed the wetness coating him, unmistakenly yet shamefully coming from you.

“Are you sure you’re one to scold? I only see one perverted secretary in the room, with their shirt open and pussy dripping wet.”

“No…” you tried to object, but it was useless. Grabbing you by your waist, you were pulled forward again, unable to get away from him this time, your sex meeting what was already straining against his pants, throbbing under the fabric.

“Don’t make this more difficult for both of us, Baby,” Ryan purred as he reached down to open his zipper. Your eyes widened, and you shook your head vehemently, struggling against your restraints and trying to get off his lap. Even falling to the hard floor face first would be more preferable than what you could only imagine was going to happen.

“You said we wouldn’t!” you whisper-yelled at him angrily, desperate to get out of this situation.

“I said I wasn’t going to fuck you on my desk. My lap is a whole different thing, though.”

“No! Stop! Not here! Please, at least not in the office, I don’t want that–”

Your words were ignored as Ryan calmly shifted your hips to his advantage, lifting you a little into the air to slip his tip against your sex. “Shh or people will definitely notice,” he merely teased you again, stretching his neck to calm your lips which you opened in protest with his. You desperately clamped your thighs around his, trying to keep yourself up. Still, the moment his support dwindled, gravity pulled you down forcefully.

Against his lips, you had no choice but to let out a long, muffled moan as he filled you, trying to get some air as Ryan kept kissing you feverishly. You saw stars before your eyes as his thick cock spread you open, pushing aside your walls to accommodate him. Every vein seemed to pulse in unison with your walls, and the slow rubbing of your hips together moved and tightened you around his member.

One of his hands crept under your ass again, slowly, deliberately lifting you, forcing another sound out as he emptied the space inside of you only to let you impale yourself on his cock rapidly again. Pure dread mixed with pleasure as Ryan decided the pace, grinding you and fucking you on his lap mercilessly while you bit away your voice that betrayed you.

If only he had a small dick. You had wished for that so many times. A small, barely noticeable cock that would hardly stir your emotions and you’d have to fake orgasms was much, muchbetter than what he had been blessed with. Anything that couldn’t have been acquired in length went into thickness and curve, his cock making sure to cave you out before kissing your most sensible spot inside again and again. Every push was followed by an electrifying shock tickling you all over your body without giving you time to recover before it repeated.

Ryan took his damn time getting your head clouded with pleasure, always watching you, enjoying the bounce of your tits. He, for one, had all the time he wanted, and what he wanted was to watch you completely lose yourself on top of his dick. If he could make you shudder and moan, then he’d know he was on the right track to what he wanted: your submissiveness.

If forcing you into this wasn’t agony enough, it was the painstakingly slow push and pulls, the deliberate moving his cock around inside of you. Pretty sure your pussy was welcoming him warm and wet, no matter what you thought of the matter. And yet, it seemed like this was never going to end with how long it took him to actually focus on his own pleasure. Every minute spent with him alone in this office was one that made the phone outside go unanswered and your colleagues wondering what you two were doing inside. Take too long, and someone would have to check if you two were okay, or perhaps, dead if you kept quiet enough. The urgency to get this over with mixed with your frustration of not being allowed to appropriately feel the pleasure forced on you. After all, he had already initiated it. There was no changing his mind now, even though you tried.

Awkwardly, you tried to find a hold, lifting yourself before he could. Ryan’s brows rose in surprise, then a delighted twinkle flashed through his eyes. His bleached white teeth showed as he smiled ecstatically, and before you knew it, he spread his - and by extension, yours - legs. For a moment, you feared falling through the gap, but his hands were still holding on to you, supporting you, and not letting you go for even a moment. However, much to your surprise, that gave you enough space to move properly.

The first few times were still a little clumsily, but you got the hang of it. Leaning forward, Ryan let the backrest tilt back comfortably, and you rested your head on his shoulder, face turned away from him. His hands sliding to your ass, he gripped both cheeks boorishly as you moved yourself up and down his cock. Your range was smaller, but it was way easier, more controllable, and more pleasurable as well. Had you known how much faster you could have made it by participating, you probably would have done so earlier.

Another advantage of the position was your ability to muffle yourself in his suit jacket’s shoulder pads, much more comfortable than your boss could ever do for you. It felt good to have some say in what you were doing, take the upper hand as much as he allowed and feel yourself. In a way, using a person could go both ways if the situation was the same as it was for you and Mr. Ryan Thornton.

Whatever he wanted from you, and you truly weren’t sure still, he used you on every whim and idea he was making up in his mind. Without regards to you, he was a selfish, arrogant bastard, just like everyone warned you, even though for a long time you tried not to listen to your co-workers. For a while, you truly wanted to believe in his kindness hidden behind a stern face and in the form of gifts, and you even admired him for getting his work done without complaining.

Of course, blackmailing and forcing you to stay by his side and obey him didn’t sit well with your feeling of respect for him. But you also realized that beating yourself up over your past mistakes only made you more miserable, not him. Now that you were already forced to comply, you might as well try to make the best out of it, no matter if it meant you’d need another long shower and a good cry once you got home.

Sighing quietly into his shoulder, you felt him play with your buttcheeks as you slammed your hips down into his. It wasn’t long until Ryan also groaned lowly into your ear, biting and nibbling your earlobe as he enjoyed the pleasure you were giving him. You two were engrossed in your own little worlds, yours circuiting around the thought of orgasming and being done, having to fix the mess it would leave you in.

His, on the other hand, was about how adorably but sluttily you fucked yourself on him, leaned on him, and tried to get more of his cock stuffed inside of you. If only you could have seen yourself through his eyes, the way he loved every little shudder you made, and how your soft ass felt in the palms of his hands as he gripped it. How your hot breath turned him on even more as it tickled his skin like a playful caress, and how the sounds you made were a symphony of love in his ears. For a while, it made him forget that you want nothing that he gives you. It allowed him to dream that this was exactly what you wanted too and that you felt the same way he does about you.

Holding you, he hid his face in your hair, smelled the fragrance of your shampoo, his mouth watering as his mind slipped into the thought of how your pussy tasted. Ryan couldn’t wait until he got home to eat you out to his heart’s content, contemplating spreading you here on his table like a feast despite what he said to you before.

But before he could act on it, you jolted upwards rapidly, not moving, only listening as it knocked on the office door, your worst nightmare coming true. Ryan glanced past you, disgruntled over the interruption that tore you away from him before his eyes met yours. Could he see the panic, the fear inside of you? The whole damned ruin you saw flash through your inner eye? You didn’t want to be called nasty names and be scowled at for the rest of your time for sleeping with the boss as long as you were forced to stay by his side either. And becoming his personal housekeeper and losing all your autonomy and freedom as he had offered you multiple times with conditions before wasn’t what you wanted either.

“Please,” you mouthed silently, and the corners of his lips slowly rose. Your eyes widened as you felt him buck in his seat, making you wish you could use your hands to bury your face in them. Again and again, his hips jolted upwards into yours, one hand slipping from your ass to the front to tease your clit while he was at it. Flicking and rubbing with his thumb, you were close to losing your mind, as he very calmly called out, “We’re in a meeting!”

“Sorry, Sir! I have the documents you wanted.”

Glaring at your boss, you felt like he set this interruption up, and his grin only widened in confirmation as he saw the burning anger in yours. He loved seeing you upset and struggling; it made him want to tease you even more.

“Leave–”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you thought as the constant pressure on your G-spot and clit intensified. You felt your toes curl, and your body shiver in pleasure as your boss paused his orders just so he could watch you come undone on top of him. Shaking your head, you tried to tell him to stop, tears filling your eyes, knowing you could not hold back if he continued.

“--them on [Name] ’s desk, we are busy,” he quickly finished, his face crashing into yours to stop you from screaming as you writhed. He pushed your lips roughly against his by gripping your hair tightly and keeping you in place with his grip, letting his tongue dance with yours as your pussy clenched and shuddered around his cock. Your orgasm was violently shaking you, absolutely merciless as it overcame you and making the few seconds it took feel like hours of brainless pleasure.

“Good,” he praised you, petting your hair as you slowly regained your composure. “Didn’t know that you had a kink for almost being caught in public, Darling.”

“F-Fuck…” you stammered, initially trying to curse him but still not able to completely control yourself. He was a fucking jerk for mocking you, but there was a hint of truth to it. You undoubtedly did feel a bit of a push because of the situation you were in, perhaps wanting to get it over with only manifesting this more.

“Are you done? I need to get to work now.” Disapproving of your choice of words, Ryan pulled you off his cock and set you down on your wobbly legs as he stood up. Feeling thrown away like a piece of trash, you turned around to have him untie your arms when he hooked his finger around his tie and pulled you back against him. His cock slipped between your legs, still erect and pulsing as Ryan leaned over your shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done yet.”

Kicking his chair aside, your boss showed you the splendid space underneath his desk, patting the wood a few times invitingly. “Get under it. I need to see my project managers.”

Your mouth opened a bit too wide to be appropriate, but you were utterly taken aback by what you were hearing. “What?” he asked, smirking. “Thought I’d let you go so easily?”

Sitting down on his chair with a sigh, he grabbed his length, palming it slowly. He was waiting for you to follow his orders, but you couldn’t do anything but look back and forth between the leg space of his desk and him. Apparently, you were taking too long as he sighed again, disappointed, and leaned forward, dialing one company-internal number on his phone and setting it on speaker. All while still jacking himself lazily with his hand.

“Yeah, you can come in now for the presentation. My secretary is out today. Just go straight to my office,” Ryan instructed, never looking away from the pitiful form you were in. Ripped shirt, hiked-up skirt, bound wrists, and a dripping wet pussy were all you were in that moment, and any second from now on, managers would storm this office to talk about their newest achievements and seeing you like that.

“Why?” you merely croaked, holding back the tears as you wondered why you deserved this kind of treatment.

“It would be unfair if only you get to have fun with almost being caught. It has to be a bit more interesting than that for me.”

Hesitant, you approached his table again, kneeling down. The space was barely enough to fit you, much less both you and your boss’s legs. But what didn’t fit had to be made fitting. So you did your best to accommodate yourself in the tiny space, wondering if that was what he was thinking too whenever he rammed his cock inside your tight hole.

“Always remember: work hard, and the work will be much more enjoyable. Maybe I won’t ask the managers many questions if you satisfy me.”

God, every fiber of your being hated him.

But like a good secretary, you worked hard to satisfy your boss, praying for it to be over soon as you opened your mouth wide for him. Hearing the knock on the door and seeing his filthy, disgusting grin one last time, you were hid in the legroom of his desk, squeezed between his thighs and the wood.

With no other choice but to accept his cock slipping down your throat, tears burning in your eyes.

[huge-enthusiast]

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

//

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

or

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

[angry-geese]

For Myself

Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.

obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work

Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick

Word Count: 2.4k

He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.

Worst of all, it insults you.

An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.

The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.

He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.

And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.

She begs for her life.

Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.

It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.

You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.

She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.

Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.

Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.

He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.

Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.

You're just as much his, as he is yours.

Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.

He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.

Something is wrong.

He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.

Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.

Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.

He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.

You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.

His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.

None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.

He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.

His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.

"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."

You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.

"You made the right call." He says. You always do.

He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.

A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.

The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.

One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.

Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.

When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.

He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.

The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.

Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.

He follows you, silent.

He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.

He doesn't join you in bed.

He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.

You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.

You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.

You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.

One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.

"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.

“What's the matter, pet?”

“I don't feel too good.” You say.

Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.

“I’ll get Uraume-”

“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”

He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.

He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.

He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.

His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.

When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

[zodiakuroo]

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences.  That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would.  Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice  that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours.  Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots  that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine.  You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle.  Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea.  He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.  

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it.  He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”.  All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”  

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt.  You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.  

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

[fullfiresiren]

beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

  — — — 5 years later — — —

 In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

[bts-weverse-trans]

201127 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - Jungkook

Jung Kook: “I hope this feeling never fades” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.27

I had a chance to interview BTS before, when they debuted. During that interview, Jung Kook had one small habit; when I met him again a while later, he had corrected it. He makes a conscious effort to change himself. And after seven years, I met Jung Kook again.

You directed the music video for “Life Goes On,” BE’s title song. Jung Kook: I was really eager to direct the music video from the outset. My plan was to organize the synopsis, discuss it with the  music video director I was working with, shoot and edit them, but we were short on time. So I worked on it while sharing ideas with the director. Originally there were a lot of scenes with lip synching in them, but we took some of them out and put in more scenes that conveyed the members’ emotions better. It wasn’t easy to combine scenes, but I think now I know more about how much of everything is needed when shooting a music video.

You had shot the Golden Closet Films and uploaded them to the BTS YouTube channel, and now you shot a music video. Jung Kook: Once we were on location, we had directions for everything we needed to shoot prepared in advance, so I took candid shots of the members here and there with a camera during the shoot. We were filming in a beautiful place so when they asked me to take pictures of them as they wanted to be presented, I did.

What kind of pictures did you take of yourself? Jung Kook: I was just, in them. (laughs) I’m not in the shot for the Golden Closet Films either. I kind of take a back seat. The director had to shoot my parts for the music video, since I couldn’t film myself, so I relaxed a bit. I tried to make the other members look really good when I recorded them. Since this was a BTS music video and not my own, I wanted to show what was happening with every member and the team, not just one individual’s thoughts. Each person who watches the video might feel different, but I wanted to show that we feel what other people feel, that we’re in the same situation.

You get your picture taken a lot, but you don’t pay much attention to the ones you’re in. Jung Kook: I never really liked having my picture taken. (laughs) And I’m usually with the others when we’re working, obviously, but it’s hard to take a camera and take selfies. So I take pictures and videos of the other members every chance I get.

Do you still find it difficult to have your picture taken? Jung Kook: I put my best face forward when it’s for something I have to do, like  for photo books, but it’s still not easy. Videos are okay, though. And even though I’m not nervous at all when I sing in front of tens of thousands of people, if I have to sing or talk in front of a small group, I get super nervous. I never feel that way on stage, but maybe I have a hard time doing things that are a little bit awkward for me.

It seems like you draw a distinction between work you enjoy and work you find difficult. Jung Kook: Work related to music, like recording, composing, writing lyrics, filming music videos and things like that, are all fine. But anything outside of that is probably a challenge for me.

On BE, you each explained your feelings about work in the song “Dis-ease.” You must have experienced a cycle of enjoyable and difficult work over seven years, so how did you get through the hard times? Jung Kook: I actually understand my own problems well, so most of the time it’s okay. I can figure things out one at a time through experience instead of just looking for answers. I’m always growing and my personality changes, depending on my environment. I think I’ve learned to do things I used to find difficult by experiencing it little by little.

Speaking of growth, “Skit” was very memorable. You recorded it the day after “Dynamite” reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and you, who talked about what you did before you became trainees in “Skit” in your debut album,talked about being first place on the Billboard Hot 100 this time around. Jung Kook: When I was a trainee, I saw the older members rapping and thought, “Wow, they’re so cool!” But now, after having spent everyday together, I’ve forgotten about all that. (laughs) Sometimes I see the lyrics they wrote, see them dancing and hearing the things they say on stage, and think, “Oh, right. That is the kind of person they are. They’re a lot different now.” You know how you don’t feel it when you live with your family, but if you can’t see them for a long time, you miss them. You might even cry. We’re a real family. Like, legit! (laughs)

Your “legit family” (laughs) each put their own songs on BE and came up with units spontaneously. What was it like making the album that way? Jung Kook: We talked with the company over the outline of the album and organized our ideas together. That was our process for making songs. Then we’d listen to them together, and if we thought they weren’t great, we’d go back and work on them some more. The members would get together and say, “Hey, how about so and so do a unit song this time?” or, “What should it be about?” and share a lot of ideas that way.

How did the others respond to your song, “Stay”? Jung Kook: That song was originally meant to be on my mixtape. We planned to put a different song on the album, but after V heard it, he said, “This song that Jung Kook wrote is really good,” and then the other members all listened, said it was better than the other one, and somehow (laughs) “Stay” made it into the album. The message for the other song was also, “Even though we’re far apart, stay just where you are.” I wrote my song with the same theme so I loved that it was included in BE. At first, I wanted to talk about how we’re always together, using the English word “wherever.” I wanted to express how we’re always together no matter where we are, but Namjoon heard that and said “Stay” might be better. I liked his suggestion, so I changed it. He really helped me to organize my thoughts, since I’m not always good at writing everything I want to express.

One might go as far as to say the lyrics sound heartbreaking, but it’s arranged in EDM. Jung Kook: We imagined we were performing for the fans while we made it, jumping up and down with them.

It sounds like you really miss your fans. Jung Kook: This album really hit us in a different way, with this situation being what it is. Because the world is struggling with COVID-19, we have to keep our heads up and convey our messages to our fans.

What can your fans expect from you when you finally meet again? Jung Kook: There’s nothing specific, but when I watched our old performances, my facial expressions were awkward and my dance moves weren’t always perfect. I keep working to improve myself, so I hope   when the fans see me, they think my performance is amazing and that my aura fills the stage.

Are you happy with how you look in your latest work? Jung Kook: I’m not 100% satisfied, no. When we did performances for “Dynamite” recently I kept seeing my imperfections.

Your acting in the intro to your “Dynamite” performance was really impressive. Even in COVID-19 times, you captured a feeling of liveliness and being cool, as though to explain what the song is all about. Jung Kook: Actually, on the first day of filming the music video, I was supposed to film my parts first, but I was so bad that it had to be pushed to the end of the shoot. So,I was a bit more relaxed when the camera rolled.

So that’s what you get when you’re relaxed! (laughs) Jung Kook: Yes, I relaxed, and something went “pop!” and “boom!” inside me, and then I did it however I wanted. (laughs)

It’s fascinating how someone who performs the way you do during stadium tours can feel nervous while filming and yet still do so well in it. Jung Kook: I can be a shy person. When people used to ask me to sing, I couldn’t always do it—like in front of adults or teachers. And I’m still a bit like that. If I start thinking, “Oh, I can’t do this,” then I really end up not being able to do it. Even when I could have done well.

Why do you think that is? Jung Kook: I feel the same way about my dancing and my singing, and I can’t compose a really amazing melody either. I feel like I’m always somewhere in the middle. But then I also think I have my own colors, so I like to quietly, slowly open up to people, and let them know what kind of person I am. Yeah, something like that. (laughs)

But, when you review your songs and performances objectively, you see all of your changes, don’t you? Jung Kook: There’s a lot of change. My voice has changed a lot; I grew taller and my frame and facial structure have changed, too. I could tell how awkward I looked at the beginning, but after a while, I think, “My gestures look better now, but I feel like my dance is too rigid.” And again after a while, “Now my dance is fine and my gestures are good, but I’m making awkward facial expressions.” And later, I say, “Now I got the facial expressions down, but, hmm, there’s no killer move.” (laughs) That’s how I slowly changed. And then my actions, thoughts, dreams, goals, what I value, what I want to do—all these things will change depending on the situation.

You had some changes in BE, too. Throughout “Life Goes On,” you lightly carry your voice and tone throughout the whole song, like they’re flowing. Jung Kook: Right. I think that’s very important. My general feeling was my voice should be woven into the song, rather than bringing out my individual voice. The lyrics say the world stopped, but I can’t keep on being sad, and life continues and flows on. I wanted to mix a little bit of my own colors into that complex, subtle sadness. I listened to how the other members recorded their parts for the song, and I sang while thinking about how I could do it in a way that it would all blend together well. I kept changing my voice exploring how to make it sound better, cleaner. I kept trying new things while I was recording, performing, and practicing.

When you look back after all that change, don’t you feel like you accomplished a lot? Jung Kook: I don’t really pay attention to things that have already happened. I think more about what it is I need right now, so I rarely think, “I got a lot better from how I used to be,” or, “I did a good job.”

You sound insatiable, in a good way. Jung Kook: Yes. This is how I want to keep living, and I hope this feeling never fades.

You’ve found immense success with BTS. What makes you want to keep doing more and keep improving yourself? Jung Kook: I want to show people who I am: how I talk, how I act, how I sing, and so on. And after that, I want to be acknowledged for doing what I like to do, and for people to see what an amazing guy I am. I want to do these things step by step. I want to be appreciated as Jung Kook, as the real me.

What do you think is the source of that energy—the energy to keep proving yourself, even though you’ve already achieved so much with BTS? Jung Kook: I think my heart’s telling me to. BTS was able to climb this high thanks to the group members, the company and our fans. But there’s always the question of whether I could receive that kind of recognition by myself, so I have this feeling of wanting to throw myself at some challenge alone. There’s a lot I want to do, and a lot I want to achieve.

By gradually improving yourself, what kind of person would you ideally want to become? Jung Kook: A person who’s crazy awesome in their field. (laughs) Those kinds of people look cool even when they do something different. I still have a long way to go. I feel like I could be more captivating and draw more out of people by improving any number of things, by trying hard to be confident about my singing, or the way I dance and perform. BTS is way more important and meaningful to me than I am to myself, so I’m not saying I want to do anything alone. But I hope I get to the point where I can perform alone for three or four hours in a venue full of people.

It’s clear that your job, music, is very important to you. Jung Kook: I must never let it go. That’s what I always think. I have to keep it close to me, even if I get bored, or I don’t want to hear it, or it feels like a hassle. I want to keep on making music. It may be a long ways down the road, but I want to prove myself with my music.

You said before that your MBTI is ISFP, so I looked it up. Obviously, MBTI can’t sum up a person perfectly, but it says ISFPs tend to be “curious artists.” Your answer reminds me of that. Jung Kook: That sounds about right. I looked up the personality traits for ISFP too, and it was interesting. (laughs)

Maybe that’s the reason you set your goals so high. You seem like you have high standards and want to keep growing. Jung Kook: It’s like a foggy mountain top. (laughs) I can’t even see it yet.

You’ve been climbing for seven years, staying curious. Is there anything you want to say to the people who have been watching you all this time? Jung Kook: Umm … Well, there are seven of us, and the seven of us keep running ahead. So it’s possible we could get tired, one by one, and drop out, right? But if more people join us, one by one, and run with us, we can support each other and pull each other up if someone falls down. That’s kind of how I feel. There are people who supported us from the beginning who have been watching us the whole time since, and because of them our follower count keeps going up, and they all keep us on track. So the only thing I can say is—thank you. We were nothing special, really (laughs) but they keep on liking us and supporting us, and the best way we can repay them is to give them our all through our music and our performances. They push me to work hard, even on things I find difficult. (laughs) I’m eternally grateful.

Just like in the last line of “Stay.” Jung Kook: “We are together.”

Trans © Weverse

[mqnasluvr]

skinship headcanons | genshin impact

pairings; jean x gn!reader, amber x gn!reader, albedo x gn!reader

mentioned; kaeya, lisa, huffman, sucrose

warnings; suggestive themes ( jean ), all lowercase, not proofread

word count; 1.7k but half of it is albedo

jean

jean is not the touchiest person out there, but she does enjoy holding you. not too big on pda either; the most you’ll get out of her in public is maybe a quick smooch on the cheek and hand holding🛐 other than that, shes quite reserved.

her hugs are very comforting, but the first couple of times it was awkward on her part. she was used to giving barbara and klee hugs, but this was different. she wasn’t sure where to put her arms, and if anything she got more frustrated the more she hesitated.

once she grows accustomed to it, she’ll be fine. she enjoys the warmth and innocence of hugs, especially if you’re taller than her.

like i said, in public she isnt very touchy. while running errands she does keep you close though, and enjoys holding your hand more and anything.

behind closed doors shes a little bit bolder, but still shy overall. she’s not sure if she’s moving too fast for you so she waits until you initiate any type of physical contact, then takes it from there herself. it took her a long time before she managed to get the courage to kiss you tbh

one time when you two were in her office, amber walked in on you “distracting” jean from her work.

“y/n, i have to get back to work, please,” jean adverted her eyes from your gaze, embarrassed. she kept looking at the door, mentally asking herself if the door was locked or not and getting more nervous as the seconds passed.

you sat straddled on the young womans lap, her hands loosely placed on your hips. holding her face in your hands, you guided her face back to yours. “you work for way too long,” you frowned. “and i’m bored. there’s nothing to do in here.”

“the library is just across the hall—“

“if i read another book my brain will implode.” jean sighed and shook her head.

“please indulge in me just this once? please jean?” she stared at you blankly, her resolve quickly deteriorating. a couple of kisses couldn’t hurt, could it? she looked up at the clock in the corner of the room, then back at you.

sighing for the umpteenth time that day, she nodded. “just for a little while-“

before she could finish speaking, you pressed your lips to hers hurriedly, not wanting to waste any time. jean barely ever separated herself from her work, and refused to accept help from anyone else. you almost never had time alone with the acting grand master— you weren’t going to miss your chance now.

the kiss was not heated whatsoever, just very.. clumsy. and needy. on your part, at least. jean tried her best to slow you down, gripping your hips as her face heated up.

“jean, lisa needs you for somethi- oh,” amber nearly dropped the papers in her hands, immediately covering her eyes with it instead. you whipped your head around and stared at the girl wide-eyed before she spoke up again. “d-did i come at a bad time? i am so sorry, i’ll um. i’ll go now.”

jean couldnt look her in the eyes for WEEKS

it was painful

but overall, she likes physical affection, shes just nervous :,)

amber

amber LOVES touching you!! she’s 100% okay with pda. she isnt as forward as maybe kaeya or lisa, but she’s still rather bold. sometimes she forgets youre in public too, which ends up drawing a lot of attention to the both of you.

when you two go out on dates she is always touching you. hand in hand, arm around waist, whatever. theres always some type of physical contact, no matter what.

it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that you two are dating but for some reason she didn’t think that anyone knew ?? one time huffman saw yall kissing in an alleyway u really aren’t slick🤨

she loves cheek and forehead kisses, but likes receiving them more than giving really. shes a hyper one, and these kisses fluster her enough to make her quiet down. ( it’s so cute )

she often picks you up to hug you, spinning you both around in circles in an almost bone crushing hug. other than those times her hugs are really soft, but the energy is still there. ^^

have i mentioned that she is affectionate?? because she really is. she does respect your boundaries though, but if you feel uncomfortable you’re going to have to speak up on it because she won’t notice.

in private her clinginess is amplified by 10.

“i’m trying to cook, amber,” you mumbled, struggling to stir the paste sauce in the pot. all you were trying to do was make dinner for the two of you, but around 5 minutes ago she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your arms and torso. you could feel her bury her face further into your back.

“mhm, and it smells really good too,” she hummed. you groaned, and she just giggled.

“i’ll be done in like, 20 minutes, amber. you can hug barron bunny in the meantime,” you tried to pry her arms off of you but she started whining.

“that’s too long.”

“no, it isnt,” you turned around with a spoonful of pasta sauce, motioning for her to open her mouth. she slurped the sauce and gave you a thumbs up.

“see? its good, right? well it wont get much better if you keep clinging to me so much,” she stayed quiet, but at least loosened her arms around you so that it was easier to move. you lightly patted her hand. “thank you.”

“whateverrr,” she drawled, and you couldnt help but laugh.

the pasta was in fact very good

in the end, shes the exact opposite of jean, and youll need to slow her down a lot :,)

albedo

as far as physical contact goes, it’s literally the last thing you will ever find on his mind. he’s too caught up with other things to think about physical affection

he does love you yes, but he doesnt show it through physical means. he does more gift giving, like when he sees a pretty flower that reminds him of you while going out to find starsilver shards.

if you want a hug or anything out of him you’re going to have to initiate it first— it’s foreign territory, and it’s not something he’s particularly interested in, so he doesnt feel the need to indulge in it

however the first time you two cuddle you can tell that he’s hooked. and he does a terrible job at hiding it.

now, he insists that you sit in his lap while he is taking notes because it “helps him focus better” and because “he’s so lonely”

we all know that aint true lmfao

he also really likes it when you play with his hair. please play with his hair, especially when you want him to get away from his studies. physical contact is completely foreign to him so something as simple as a scalp massage will make him melt 🛐

whenever he refuses to get away from his work, sucrose always asks you to step in because he wont listen to her

“y/n,” sucrose quietly approached you as you conversed with kaeya. you turned to her and nodded, albiet a bit concerned. sucrose never really needed you for anything, what did she need now that she couldn’t do herself?

kaeya took this as his sign to leave, but not before giving you a quick pat on the head. “yes, sucrose?” you said. “did something happen?”

she nodded meekly, watching kaeya walk off. a little bubble of guilt formed in her stomach from interrupting. “ah, i need your help with something. you see, mr albedo has been doing research non-stop on a new thing that has caught his eye since yesterday afternoon. i’ve tried to get him to put his research on pause, but,” she adjusted her glasses. “he doesn’t listen to me. i was hoping if you could maybe convince him to take care of himself?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. he was doing it again. but you couldnt really blame him, he was terrible at keeping his hyperfixations under control. “i’ll take care of him, sucrose. don’t worry.”

she visibly relaxed at your words. sucrose flashed you a smile of gratitude, then waved and walked off to finish her errands in mondstadt.

—

it didn’t take him very long to notice your presence behind him. you were practically glaring at him, but there was no true anger behind it. wordlessly, albedo turned around in his chair and looked up at you.

you crossed your arms. “albedo,” you started, and it took everything in him not to sigh at the inevitable lecture.

“sucrose sent you, did she not?” he propped his arm up on the armrest of his chair, leaning his face into his hand as he gazed at you nonchalantly.

“of course she did. why aren’t you taking breaks?” he turned his chair back around, but you sat on the desk he was working at. you placed your hand on top of his papers and he shot a glare at you. it didnt phase you in the slightest.

“i have work to do. it’s much easier to do it all at once than stop inbetween.”

“have you at least been taking care of your basic needs? when was the last time you ate, or drank water?”

your eyes softened when he looked away.

hopping off of the desk, you grabbed his hand and pulled him away from his work ( gently, of course ). he barely protested.

you started muttering about how he needs to take better care of himself while pouring him a cup of water and making him a simple sandwich. he was a bit disappointed in himself for making you worry, and ate the food you gave him guiltily.

you pinched his cheek as he ate, giving it a light tug. he slapped your hand away playfully and a bit of the guilt he felt lifted when he heard your laugh. “i’m sorry you have to go through this for me.”

you shook your head. “you just need to learn how to stop yourself. you’re smart albedo, i’m sure you’ll figure it out in no time.”

he finished eating his food and, uncharacteristically, pulled you in for a hug. albedo rested his forehead against your shoulder, relaxing even further when you weaved your fingers through his hair.

“...i’m sorry, y/n.”

“stop apologizing.”

“okay. sorry. oh-”

you laughed.