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#i have a lot of ideas for this genre of post. ive thought too much abt the guys playing this game.
omegalomania · 9 months
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this one was too long so it gets its own post
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vampdes · 1 year
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— “MISSIN’ THE PARTY.” [being a jock meant you were absolutely obligated to throw ragers at least once a week. but what happens when ethan just can’t get enough of you? you give him what he wants, of course!]
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GENRE. smut.
PAIRING. ethan landry x m!reader.
CW. lowercase implied, cheating implied, jock!reader ( briefly mentioned / implied ), nervous!ethan, big dick!ethan, a lot of sexual fantasies ( ethan ), oral implied ( reader receiving ), top!ethan / bottom!reader.
NOTES. this coulda been better, ima be real, ive js been waitin to post this tho so ima js rip the bandaid off. enjoy! ⭐ ( @asukases )
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it started simple, easy. he’d tutor you, congratulate you when you had gotten a problem right and easily correct you when you’d gotten a problem wrong.
obviously, you’d be rightfully confused and frustrated when he’d laugh at ‘how much of a book-like jock’ you are. nevertheless, the sessions went on and on and on. you learned more about him as time went on, as he did about you. well, he learned more about you because you’re rather talkative. you told him about the football team, even provided him with the practice schedule, you told him about your girlfriend, the head cheerleader for the football team, and about how difficult it was getting. you’d mainly tell him about her because you just couldn’t understand her.
“i don’t get it. like, i’m hot, i’m strong, i’m the literal definition of “everything a girl could ever need”, you know? all i want, every once in a while, mind you, is a little action, that’s it. even a quickie would work, for fucks sake!”, you wailed about your numerous ‘issues’ with your girlfriend as the two of you sat on the bleachers, watching as your captain directed the younger members of the team for being ‘incompetent players’.
you groaned in annoyance before returning to the main point of your conversation, “but, no. she still has to have so many excuses, like all i want is some fuckin’ sex. like bro, you don’t know how hard it’s been. it’s been seven months! seven! i can’t even sleep with any of the girls in the sorority down the road because they say it’s against their rules. eugh, i just don’t understand it.”. ethan’s eyebrows rose and his lips formed a small, slight grin numerous times during your very one-sided conversation regarding your relationship.
“no ‘cause, if i were a girl, i’d fuck me! mad sex too. i’d even fuck ..” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought of someone to consider fucking hypothetically, “.. you.” you smiled at ethan, letting out a loud laugh after you had watched his face morph into a flustered one. “i mean, hell, you’re .. somewhat fit, so why not, right?”.
ethan’s tongue slid over his lower, rose pink lip at the thought of fucking you as though you were a girl. the idea of getting you riled up, whimpering, moaning and begging for more of him was nothing but a feverish dream. his fingers stretching you, thrusting inside of you, touching the most sensational parts of you that you never dared to touch yourself. you’d be demanded to thrust on his fingers, to prep yourself on your own in order to fit all of him inside of you, and you’d hesitantly do so. your hips would start slow as though you were scared of how good you’d feel, but then, the feeling of you being able to have such a power over ethan would make you cave in. you’d become an animal and rut on his fingers as your teeth bit into the pillow beneath you. you never, ever knew you could feel so good.
“.. ethan? bro? practice is over, dude. we gotta get back to the dorm and get ready for the rager tonight.”
for fucks sake, you never knew how to shut up. it annoyed him so fucking much, just shut up for once, will you? if he had the chance, just a slight, slight chance, he’d put you in the place where you belonged: quivering beneath him with your wrists bound and cock sore.
but, “alright, lets go!” was all he could respond with. he didn’t want to lose his golden boy by scaring him off with his wild, erotic fantasies that only amplified when you’d strip in front of him, forcing him to shove a pillow on top of his already tight jeans.
by the time the two of you had made it to the dorm the two of you shared, it was well past party-time and you’d have to rush in order to get ready. ethan, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on the idea of becoming so drunk to the point where he couldn’t even stand on his own ( aka what you did after he had to bring you back to campus after the last frat party you hosted ).
unfortunately, for him, the ideals from earlier were still playing like a movie inside of his mind. he couldn’t recall how many things he wanted to do to you, to do with you. oh god, fucking hell. you just didn’t know how hard you made him, how much you made him ache in the middle of the nights and in the dawn of the mornings. you made him whine, squeal, cry for more of you. more of you touch, of your taste, of your sound. more of you to cover with cum. more of you to mark with his numerous substances. fuck, please stop teasing him. he won’t be able to control himself, not tonight. especially not after the show you’re giving him at the moment.
that’s when you came out of your walk-in wardrobe and asked him what he thought of your shirt. you wore nothing but a slim, almost see through pair of boxers and a tight fitting shirt that rose over your belly button and squeezed around your chest. the fabric was so tight that it rubbed against your nipples every time you moved. “mm.. on second thought, nevermind. it’s rubbin’ me in all the wrong places, fuck, don’t think i can take it off by myself though. could you help me?”.
his eyes flitted away from your thighs and instead to your torso that was obviously visible through the shirt. wait—wait, you wanted help with taking off your shirt? the shirt that made you look so, so fucking good? obviously he had to oblige!
“c’mere, i’ll get it off for you.” he’ll do more than get it off of you. he’ll gladly get off on you.
you stood in front of him, obliging to his “eyes closed” request. “jus’ do it quickly, the party’s going to end soon.”. you felt the sharp tips of his fingernails scrap across your waist before he started to scale upwards, loving the feeling of the sides of your torso to your plump chest and perky nipples. “ethan! you’re ‘posed to be taking the shirt off!” you whined, “i wanna be in time for the party, c’mon!”.
ethan laughed, “fine, fine. just teasing you, love, just teasing.” he let out a huff of air as he gripped the ends of the said tight fitting t-shirt and started to tug at it. “what’re you doing? jus’ take it off!” you were starting to complain, so he did as you said, he ripped it. the thin seams tore easily, straight down the middle which produced the new idea for his next fantasy.
“oh well, that’s one way to get it off of me, i guess.”
before you could pull away to discard the now loosely fitting shirt, ethan hooked his arms around your waist and looked up at you with his perfected “puppy eyed” look. you placed your hand on top of his ruffled hair, sinking your fingers inside of his many curls. “what is it, hm? you want something, so jus’ tell me.”.
he squeezed you tighter, “can we do it?”.
“‘it’? you mean fucking?”.
“no, no! not—not that. i just .. want to feel you. please?”.
for fucks sake, just say yes already. he watched your face contort from an expression of confusion to shock. please, please say yes! you have to, please. he never asks for anything, he just wants to feel you! it’s a normal ask, no? you let your girlfriend do it! so why couldn’t he? your best friend since grade school, c’mon! please.
“fine, fuck. jus’—hah, jus’ don’t tell her about this, alright?”.
ethan became giddy as though he was celebrating his birthday twice a year, a smile adorning his features. he stood, intertwining your hands with his own before instructing you to lay on the bed that he had just stood from. to wich you obliged whilst reminding him he only had a few minutes to complete his desired feel for you before you had to leave for the party. he mumbled a ‘fine’ before helping you discard of the torn shirt, leaving you in only a pair of socks and your—rather tight—briefs.
ethan parted your legs, feeling from the underside of your thighs to the plushness of your hips. his jeans felt entirely too tight, he wanted to fuck you like a damn animal. ruthless. with no mercy. he wanted to make you cry only to shut you up. he wanted to make you shake, to make you wither beneath him with only the feverish feeling of him fucking you keeping you steady. he lefts your hips and trailed down to the brim of your briefs. the nail of his pointer finger trailed the outline of your cock, producing a quiet whimper to leave you lips.
“no, ethan—fuck–you can’t, you know you can’t.”
ethan only smiled, “but i can, no? you know how much you want me to blow you. fuckin’ hell, you say i do it better than your girl. c’mon, just once?”.
“ .. just once, alright? then, i’m leaving, swear.”
“fine, fine,” he responded in between the soft, slow kisses he pressed against the cloth of your briefs, “i’ll be quick, promise.”.
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ethan being ‘quick’ soon turned into your face stuffed into a pillow and your nails burrowing themselves into the sheets. your many pleads for him to calm down, to stop acting as though he was an animal during its rut, fell on deaf ears. it was well past the time of the party, you realized, you could’ve been drinking, doing keg stands, but no, you had to give into his request.
ethan leaned into you, pressing his chest against your back whilst biting at your neck. he whispered your name. whiny, desperate, greedy.
“ffuck, oh fuck, you’re so good f’me, fuck ..”, his hips erratically chased his fifth orgasm of the night. his desire to see his cum spill from your swollen hole was more than enough to keep his fast, desperate rhythm. “c’mon—hah,” he raised himself from his current position, snapping his hips to delve himself deeper within you. ethan grabbed at your hair, forcing you to raise your head. “say it. say you’re a good fuckin’ slut for me.”
“m’such—ah!—m’such a good fuck–mm, ffuckin’ slut f’you! i am, i am, i am. ah, hah, fuck, wait, wait—i, oh god, i can’t! too .. too much, ethan!”.
your inconsistent babbles made his head spin. fuck, can his boy get any cuter?
he laughed at the thought. his long, slender fingers ran up your back before stopping at your lower lip, “open.” he commanded. “what? wh—”, in the middle of your sentence, he pushed two of his fingers inside of your mouth. a choked gag came from you, which amused him. even though his fingers were slim, they fit inside your mouth so well. ethan’s fingers laid still on tongue, his fingernails nipped at the back of your throat. such length provided him with muffled groans and moans from you.
his cock rubbed against the spots that provided you the most pleasure, making you cry out and grovel beneath him. saliva coated his fingers, tears covered your cheeks, and cum coated the cream colored sheers beneath you. ethan’s thick, sticky tip abused your prostate repeatedly making you cry out his name in incoherent moans with dilated pupils.
“i guess it is too much for you, mm.” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb on your sticky, pre-cum stained tip, feeling at how you twitched beneath him. you clenched around him as you came, which, in turn, made him fill your velvet insides with his copious amounts of cum. “ffuck, oh—ooh god,”, he whined, biting his lower lip as he slowly pulled out of you, watching as ropes of his cum covered your stomach that was beaded with sweat. ehan’s cum not only covered your stomach but also spilling out of your gaping, swollen hole. ethan watched intently, enjoying the sight before him.
with the party mindset far behind you, you missed the touch of his prying, groping hands on your body. “what? do you want more?” he mocked, watching as you whined for his hands to be all over you once more. “fine.” he smiled, his hands up and down your plush thighs, “just .. a few more times alright?”.
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© CREDITS TO ur1nonlydan. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORKS
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krenenbaker · 11 months
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Diasomnia Character Songs and Associations
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It's finally here! The end of the character songs and associations series! It took a bit longer to get out than I thought it would, but it's now finished.
Here is the seventh dorm, Diasomnia; the dorm of the spirit of nobility. The final of the seven, but also, interestingly, the dorm that started this entire idea.
Notes: Every song is from my liked songs playlist (so feel free to judge me for my taste, haha!) and I only allowed myself to use an artist once for this project. There is also some strong language and mature themes in some of the songs, so be aware if you choose to listen to them. I’ve included: - A song that represents them, - A song they'd listen to, and (for some) an additional song, depending on the character and circumstance
The full Spotify playlist for ALL songs and characters is linked at the end of the post.
Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde
Malleus Draconia
Represented by: Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus - Nicole Dollanganger
This song was actually what inspired me to make this series. It just reminds me so much of Malleus. The narrative setting is similar to the ruins he loves to explore, the music itself is somewhat ethereal, and the lyrics reflect the loneliness Malleus often feels, as well as his fear of loss and change.  It's powerful, it's reflective, it's strange, and it's beautiful. Much like Malleus himself.
Listens to: Symphony No. 40 in G Minor, K. 550: IV: Allegro assai - W.A. Mozart, Sinfonia Varsovia, Yehudi Menuhin
Malleus likely listens to primarily classical music, and probably knows how to play many of the pieces he listens to. He would especially enjoy the playfulness of Mozart's compositions, as most Mozart pieces (operas, symphonies, etc.) have a light mood, and are usually filled with jokes. Absolutely perfect for a fae prince!
Lilia Vanrouge
Represented by: Phantasmagoria - Polkadot Cadaver
This song feels very Lilia to me. With a focus on (possibly?) playful scaring, and the uncertain or hidden origins of what people see. There's spooks and startles, but is generally meant to be fun... or that's what's assumed. The Avant-Garde metal genre also suits the unique, fun intensity of Lilia's character.
Listens to: After Life in Purgatory - Lock Up
Okay, I know that 'Lock Up' is grindcore, and not the thrash metal that Lilia canonically listens to. BUT he would totally also listen to music like this. It's fast. It's loud. It's full of screaming. Lilia would love it! (And he'd probably somewhat relate to the lyrics of this song too, considering his past...)
Bonus - Suggests for Music Club: Renewal - Veil
Lilia would suggest something like Veil to play in Music Club, arguing that it's more "gentle" and "approachable" for non-metal fans than some other subgenres, which, yes, that may be the case, but still... Cater would be a bit freaked out.
Silver
Represented by: イジメ、ダメ、ゼッタイ - Babymetal
Silver is an interesting character, being both gentle and fierce simultaneously, which is well-encapsulated in Babymetal's music. The lyrics to this song also are akin to Silver's worldview, and his wish for balance, harmony, and connection.
Listens to: Over the Edge - Sarah Jarosz
I think Silver would listen to softer music, probably a lot of folk, bluegrass, and country music. and, like Jade, he would especially love songs about nature and the outdoors. It just seems like it would suit him!  However, I also think he shares a lot of his father's taste in music, resulting in some very strange playlists...
Sebek
Represented by: Soap - The Oh Hellos
Sebek seems to struggle a lot with his mixed identity, outright rejecting half of his heritage. (I think that's something he will learn to accept at some point in the future, and be able to become even stronger in himself and his identity as a result.) However, Sebek is also a bold, determined individual, and truly cares deeply for those he loves and respects... even if he may not outwardly show it.
Listens to: String Quartet No. 6 in F Minor, Op. 80, MWV R37: II: Allegro assai - Felix Mendelssohn, Quatuor Ébène
Because I think Malleus favours classical string music, I also think that Sebek would believe that he should also listen to similar music (as it is obviously superior!) And while he does enjoy many classical pieces, especially Mendelssohn's compositions, it would probably not be Sebek's preferred music in most situations, even if he does listen to it often.
Bonus - Prefers to listen to: Oscar Wilde Gets Out - Elton John
I'm not totally sure why, but I think Sebek would really like music by Elton John! I think that the softer pop rock sound would be something he would enjoy. Oscar Wilde Gets Out would definitely appeal to Sebek, for the literary allusions and references if nothing else.
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i-sveikata · 1 year
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I've been reading various fanfics dealing with the series for a year now. Endless variations of Vegas and Pete, Kim and Chay... One shots, novels, longer stories. I feel like almost everything has been said and thought about. The fleshing out of the canon, the back story, the childhood and what might come after.
I developed a real addiction and couldn't get enough, especially of the complex relationship between Vegas and Pete and their respective very multi-faceted characters. The number of authors is huge, but I also spent a lot of time reading them. To my dismay, I am noticing signs of fatigue in me.
Now that everything seems to have been said, every possible happy or tragic ending seems to have been thought out and told, many fics veer off into alternative universes and genres.
It's all wonderful to read and I'm grateful that there are so many unknown but worthwhile authors whose work will never be printed but who are worthy of a large readership.
But: Since fanfiction is tied to concrete people and concrete, and to a readership that has seen the series. How do you see the future? The actors will take on new roles, if all goes well, new beautiful plots will be developed there too and good series or films will be made.
How long can the hype around KinnPorsch and the series continue? Do you have the feeling that everything is coming to an end, now that the anniversary of KP is being celebrated in a big way? Is boredom creeping up on you or is the end not yet in sight and is there still a lot that needs to be written? I have also asked this question to other writers because it really bothers me, but I would be interested in YOUR answer.
Hi there!! hmm interesting question and I don't really want to discount how youre feeling or anything but i do very much doubt that everything that could be possibly said and thought about for this fandom has been done already.
because this show isn't really that old? and the age of the show or when it finished really has no bearing on the existing fandom if you think about it. at a certain point fandom breaks away and becomes its own separate entity.
like i wouldnt say im an expert but the things that keep fandom alive are not really even directly related to whether there's new episodes or video clips or content about the actors from the show that the fans can consume.
take teen wolf for example (because its a fandom ive been in the longest) that show ended in 2017 and literally as of now when i've just checked it on ao3 it has 106,344 works written for it. A show that started in 2011 and finished six years ago. And people are still posting stories for it today! (i myself still have some WIPs which i eventually intend to finish off and share) ignoring the fact that there was a teen wolf movie recently that hardly anyone in the fandom watched it's still inspiring fic, and fanart even now six years later.
and why is that? because there's no time limit on a fandom, it's because of the fans creating things like fanart, fanfic, playlists, gifs, meta analysis, tumblr posts, twitter posts, fandom discords etc. because having a constantly running tv show or a movie or book doesn't keep a fandom alive. fans do.
to compare right now, the works i can see in kinnporsche tv series tag in ao3 havent even topped 10,000 yet. like seriously let that sink in. 106,344 fics to 9,556. like im not really trying to compare right now but its just to give you some idea that KP in particular is really just starting out, like we are literally dealing with a baby fandom here so i wouldnt despair just yet that people have already run out of ideas or that its already finished because if you have dedicated fans behind you you can end up with literally over one hundred thousand stories to read about that fandom. and tbh teen wolf isn't even the biggest fandom out there!!
And if you are feeling fatigue with the KP fandom right now then of course i would recommend stepping away from it for a while in order to give yourself a break. because at the end of the day it is totally up to you to customise your own experience.
im not really sure why it matters whether authors writing for this fandom will be published or not? im mean they literally cant legally publish fandom works? or profit off it? not without sanding the story down to repurpose it for entirely new characters. but you can always save or download copies of your favourite KP fic and if you are interested in a physical copy you could always get these bound into a book yourself (with permission from the fic authors of course).
im also a little hesitant to address the comment about 'worthwhile authors being worthy of a large readership' because it kind of discounts all of the other authors who are putting their time and effort into posting stories and might not be getting the same level of comments or kudos or attention as others. like the whole point of keeping a fandom alive is to interact with all of it and if you want to encourage more content than that means dealing with the fandom at a community level. (im not talking about the dont like/dont read elements of fandom obviously the rule of thumb there is to just click out)
But i personally really dont like the idea of setting some authors above the rest because their stories might have gotten more attention or traction within a fandom. it's meant to be a community. not a hierarchy. nobody should be on a pedestal in fandom. and i would hesitate to put any number of people above anyone else for this reason. like we really all are just people being inspired by the things we watch and experience. and by suggesting that some authors might be 'worthy' it also implies that others are not, which kind of goes against the spirit of fandom imo and can be really discouraging for people creating art or fic that might not be getting as much likes, reblogs, kudos, comments etc compared to others.
I also just want to point out that a lot of people come into fandoms without having ever watched the specific content that the fandom might be about? its actually a very common thing and they still read and engage with the fandom anyway in spite of this? so its really not tied to specific people or a readership that has watched the series.
At the end of the day i really don't think hype is what keeps a fandom alive, it's the dedicated people within that community who like and share and comment and talk to each other about the stories they love.
personally im not at all bored with this fandom (and tbh im still not bored with teen wolf lol) so i hope you aren't discouraged by the idea that a fandom simply will fall apart without its tv show because i absolutely can reassure you that it wont!
and also, taking time from a fandom can also mean that when you are ready to come back there's always the possibility of falling in love all over again. so really dont let the fatigue bother you! just because your love might be waning for the show doesn't mean that others are feeling the same way! there's always plenty more for people to share and enjoy and talk about so its not really over.
tbh fandoms dont ever really finish or disappear completely anyway. like at the end of the day you have platforms like ao3 where peoples works are archived for all time and tumblr where hints of fandom will always still roam about in reblog land. that kind of love doesn't just vanish!
welp this was a long response lol but i hope it helped in some way!
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shingansoul · 1 year
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cloudy drought hurricane volcanic eruption rainbow eclipse
Cloudy - What inspired you to start writing your WIP? (or in general)
My current WIP is a commission piece, but honestly it's something i would have written to some degree eventually anyways as it's an idea of characters i like a lot. (keeping it purposely vague until it's done and posted). I love the exploration of characters with skewed forms of love and skewed world views that make getting into the pace of their thought process something new and atypical, and my current muses are exceptionally such types of people.
Drought - What do you do to help with Writer's Block?
I don't get outright writer's block too often so much as just my creative outlet switches, so i suppose i'd get my ideas out in another medium to get that out of my system so i can come back to writing.
Hurricane - Do you often stick to one WIP and finish it, then move on, or do you bounce between WIPs?
I can't work on multiple things at once, full stop no exceptions. I can crank out 10-20k word pieces in a single go like a madman but i can't do multiple projects at once of any medium combination or i wont come back to whatever came first and im not able to redo ideas either i lose steam instantly for it.
Volcanic Eruption - What's your biggest flaw as a writer?
My thoughts tend to go faster than i can write them down, so a lot of the time my biggest writing mistake that comes up is i skip words in sentences entirely and i dont catch it right away. Like i'll just skip half a sentence or entire sentences back to back and 2 will get spliced together.
Rainbow - What do you think makes your story unique / stand out?
Mmm, that's a tough one. I'd suppose dialogue? I take a lot of pride in capturing the speech patterns of my muses and kinda base my writings on my confidence in doing so over how much i want to do an idea; dialogue to me makes or breaks a story since it's how the character express themselves. You can have amazing prose and descriptions but if the characters cant reflect the information and personalities you have informed me of on their own, i feel nothing.
Eclipse - What's the most common / reoccurring theme of your WIP(s)?
It's a genre in the fanfic space outright, but hurt/comfort i think still answers this best i think. I love writing scenes of comfort or finding solace in loss, it's admittedly really cathartic and tends to be for characters that never got that in their main sources or not in a way i feel was enough. I want them to hurt but not for the sake of suffering, but for the sake of leaning into those who love them and being able to go forward with those people.
I will say, though it crops up less in my overall works list, i love writing and exploring people's relationships with grief and death as concepts in unorthodox ways and i want to do so more. I did a few pieces in february for the trigun week that did so and i loved doing it so ive been trying to make more pieces since that do so as well like Wilted Flowers !
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hobimo · 6 months
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sorry if i keep sending you asks i think it would feel a lil weird to dm bc my accounts on sns tend to be kind of throwaway accounts bc i don't know how to build an online presence prob freaks ppl out lol but yeah exactly you can tell that a lot of new jikookers experienced fan fiction for the first time with jikook so they just be reading and writing whatever. no critical thinking just big cocks and alpha knots is what it takes. the thing is that imo years ago you used to like a pairing and then get inspired by them to make up stories/characters, whereas i feel that now jikookers first and foremost see jm and jk's relationship and personalities in That specific way and it translates to fics as well. they keep saying it's just fiction but i don't buy it lmao i think it's the opposite so yeah it kinda fucks the whole thing up yk. OH btw i know that author!!! i have one of their naruto fics saved in my bookmarks so i'm def familiar w them, i'll check it out! ty <3
(i'll censor the names just in case) yeah they're rly good! hmm rk1ve1nk did an interesting spin on omegaverse in Forest,F1re. very animalistic even though the characters were made in a lab, super unique fic. Mo0nJar by them too is pretty cool. changing genres completely, user cartograph1c writes these weird lil fics, def recommended!!
HEELLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO i swear i get so excited when i see you in my inbox hello hello hello
yessssss surveycorpsjean has been Around writing bangers. i am just discovering bakudeku the last few months tho so im extra insane about them 👍also recommend watching trigun for normal reasons (please. please please please please we need more people with trigun brainrot. if u like the hanged man archetype and characters doomed by the narratve and tragic siblings you will Love trigun.)
thank you very much for the fic recs!!!!!!! i have heard of the first author but cant think of the fic ive read so i will check it out. im such a fucking sucker for super animalistic a/b/o..... that furry shit is so good
i have so many thoughts about the way people talk and think about jimin these days but im so scared putting them on public posts will get me doxxed or some shit. people are very attached to the idea that jimin acts openly queer which is really like. well. yeah. i definitely think people reallyyyy need to remember it doesnt matter how much you believe someone famous is queer theyre just presenting in a way that makes them happy and you really do NOT need to decide whether that's queer or not lmao in fact i think it says way more about someone when they decide he's queer because he doesnt act like a "typical man". like yeah in his performances obviously he explores gender some times but like sometimes songwriters are also exploring themes and thoughts that are purely creative. sometimes its not about them (and sometimes it is!) but. yeah. you can PERCEIVE him as queer if it makes you happy but you gotta remember thats not fact thats just what YOU think. yknow. and i also think this translates kinda into the fic people consume and create.
like here's the thing. people dont need to ACT a certain way to be considered men like thats ridiculous if youre a man youre a man regardless of how you act or what u say or what bits you have. same for any gender. which is why i generally think critiquing the cringey wattpad fics is a slippery slope. however, do i also think a lot of them have a very distinct cishet girl fantasy..... yes. but its embarrassing to write Y/N fic. so theyve gotta vent their desires somehow which is like fine i dont give a shit what people write. (as much as it bothers me how uncritically people read it and get it popular) but sometimes in a/b/o especially....... its VERY clear when your biases come out. which is why its sooooooooo obvious when someone who has never met real life queer people writes it. for example grouping "women and omegas" like they fill the same role despite being different subgenders when u could specify like. omegas and female betas. if u wanted. implying that women are still women even if theyre alpha but omegas are not men anymore. you get me? the fact that u decided to include male/female gender essentialism in the fic genre specifically around Not doing that is so unbelievably on the nose. and yet i see it everywhere. (i also think this is a symptom of people never having read other fandoms tho. they dont even know about gock [girl cock]).
also fics where the major antagonists are a group of girls that harrass jimin r super mean bc god we cant have a MAN do that or he's a predator. you get me? and the alpha jk who is quiet and broody and doesnt even HAVE to fight bc he's soooooooo strong the other alphas are just scared of his vibes. like you know the type of fic im describing. in general whenever the major antagonist of the fic is a bunch of women who also want to fuck jk (which like. if we're supposed to believe jk is soooo hot... like. they should?) and the author calls them a "gaggle" of women and emphasises how they "giggle" and their high pitched unpleasant voices..... brother we have some serious internalised misogyny to unpack with that one.
sorry this is such a massive rant I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS. IVE READ SO MUCH BAD FIC IVE NOTICED SO MUCH
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reidsnose · 4 years
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doodles
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overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in
genre: flufffffff
a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)
masterlist
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doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.
Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.
Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.
after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.
when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.
anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.
tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.
and content was anything else.
he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.
you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.
"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.
"hm?" you looked up, confused.
"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.
"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."
to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.
"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."
"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.
"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.
"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.
"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.
"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."
"roses are red." he chuckled.
"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."
"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.
"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.
he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.
you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.
thankfully it wasn't.
you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.
and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.
most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.
but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,
"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"
upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:
"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"
the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.
and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.
you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.
he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.
the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:
"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"
you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.
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ultra mega super cool taglist:
@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic
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Text
Stay Away
Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd
Genre: Smut
TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 
Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 
This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!
Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).
I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 
“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.
Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.
“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.
You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.
Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.
“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.
“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”
Jason’s eyebrows shot up.
“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”
“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”
“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”
Jason scoffed at that.
Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.
Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.
“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.
“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.
“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”
Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.
“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”
He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.
“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.
Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.
***
The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.
Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.
“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.
You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.
“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”
Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.
Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.
The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.
“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.
“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.
Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.
“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.
Jason rolled his eyes.
“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.
“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.
Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.
He found that adorable.
“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”
“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.
Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.
“Don’t you disagree with this?”
“With what?”
“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”
“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”
Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.
Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.
“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”
He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.
“Whatever.”
***
A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.
The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.
He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.
He frowned.
He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.
He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.
But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.
Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.
Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.
“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”
“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.
Jason was taken aback.
And then he started laughing out loud.
You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.
Dick let out a loud groan.
“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.
“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”
“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”
Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.
“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.
“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.
“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”
“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.
“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.
It was the first time you smiled at him.
“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”
“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”
“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”
“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”
“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”
“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.
“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”
“Am not!” Dick protested.
“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.
“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.
“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”
“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”
“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.
Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.
“Whatever you say, kid.”
***
The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.
He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.
He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.
Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.
“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.
“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”
Jason frowned to himself.
He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.
You were either running away from something, or towards something.
“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”
“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, ���I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”
“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”
“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”
“Fucking whatever.”
***
He really wanted to ask, he really did.
If not out of care, then out of curiosity.
But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.
Yet, he really wanted to know.
He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.
But he never got to it.
In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.
“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”
“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.
Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.
He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.
Your hair was long now.
All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.
It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.
He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.
“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.
“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”
“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.
“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”
“Why did you want to find me?”
“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”
“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”
“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”
“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.
“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”
“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”
“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.
“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”
“That’s a first,” he scoffed.
“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”
“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”
He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.
Shit.
Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.
But he didn’t want to hurt you.
He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-
“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”
Jason remained silent in shock.
“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?
Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”
Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.
“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”
“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”
You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.
He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.
He could go rogue again. Just one more time.
“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.
“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”
“What?”
That took him out of his burning anger.
“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”
Fuck, he remembered.
Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.
“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”
You paused to smile sadly at the memory.
“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”
You finally looked at him.
Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.
“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”
“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”
“Favour?”
“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”
And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.
“Sure thing, kid.”
***
Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.
He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.
But then, you also started warming up to him.
And that became the major issue.
Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.
No, now you were just so fucking annoying.
And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.
At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.
“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”
“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.
“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”
Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.
“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”
“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”
Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.
“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.
Jason was taken aback.
He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.
He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.
“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”
“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”
You strutted away.
It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?
Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.
But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.
*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.
When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.
“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.
“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.
And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.
He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.
And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.
Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.
He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.
“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.
As expected, you let go of him.
“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”
You started flexing your toned biceps comically.
“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.
“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.
“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.
You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.
Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.
Jason looked at Dick in question.
Dick merely shrugged.
Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.
He wasn’t used to it.
Human contact.
And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.
But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”
That made him jump out of his seat in panic.
Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.
“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.
“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.
He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.
Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.
But why on God’s planet were you?
Jason groaned quietly to himself.
Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.
***
Half a year later, and it didn’t.
And it got bad. Real bad.
Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.
He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.
“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.
“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.
“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”
“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.
He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.
It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.
“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”
He glared at you.
And regretted it.
You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.
“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”
And you gave him a wicked grin.
His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.
“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”
He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.
That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.
And he fell for it.
He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.
He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.
“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”
“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.
That ticked him off a bit.
“It’s about your daughter.”
Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”
“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.
Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.
“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”
“And?” Bruce questioned.
“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”
“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.
“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”
“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”
“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.
Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.
He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.
Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.
But now, he let his thoughts free.
He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.
He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.
“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.
He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.
He owed you that at the very least.
He gulped loudly.
It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.
But you were still sixteen.
And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.
“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.
The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.
How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-
“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.
He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.
“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.
***
Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.
The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.
Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.
But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:
Try not to lick. R.
“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.
He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.
His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.
The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.
“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.
Or did he?
In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.
He swallowed hard.
You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.
Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.
You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.
“Jason.”
Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.
Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.
“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.
And then, your other hand went to take the gun.
You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.
Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.
“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.
“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”
“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”
“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”
“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.
His dick twitched.
“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”
“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”
He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.
He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.
He glanced at the gun next to him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.
He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.
“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.
*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.
Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.
It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.
“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.
“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”
“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”
“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.
“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.
“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.
“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”
He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.
“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”
“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”
“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”
“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.
You let out a soft giggle.
“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”
Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.
Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.
***
Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.
He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.
The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.
“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.
He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.
“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.
“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”
“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.
Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.
“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”
“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.
He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.
“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.
“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.
Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-
“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.
“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”
Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.
“What about Roy?”
“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.
“I guess so.”
“Like, best friends?”
“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”
“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”
“His type?”
“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.
“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.
“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”
“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”
You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.
“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.
He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.
Fuck, why can't you just stop?
“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.
He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.
“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.
Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”
“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.
“Who?”
“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.
“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.
“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”
“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.
“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”
Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.
“A chance for what?” he grit.
“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”
“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”
“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.
“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.
“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.
“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”
“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.
“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”
“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”
“You fucking know what,” he stated.
“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”
“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”
“I mean-”
“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.
“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”
“What do you mean?” he hissed.
“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”
“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.
“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”
Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.
“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.
“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.
“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.
You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.
Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.
“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.
“Roy,” Jason growled.
Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.
“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”
“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”
Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.
“Out,” he commanded.
“What?”
“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”
“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.
You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.
“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.
He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.
“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.
He slammed the door shut behind him.
“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”
That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.
You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.
God, you were so hot when you were angry.
“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.
“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.
“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him
You had a point.
“Look, kid-”
“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”
Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.
“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”
Your expression softened at that.
“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”
Your eyes shone with anger once more.
“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”
You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.
Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.
He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.
Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.
He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.
“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”
“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.
He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.
“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”
“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”
Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.
Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.
To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.
“You wish,” he said coldly.
He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.
Then, he leaned back and smirked.
“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”
“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”
“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”
“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.
He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.
Shit.
He could feel his dick getting filled up.
Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.
Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.
“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”
Fuck.
“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”
Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.
“You fucking coward,” you breathed.
Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.
Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.
Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.
But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.
“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.
You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.
No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.
“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.
Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.
He remained silent for a beat. And then-
“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.
You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.
You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.
As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.
He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.
He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.
You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.
Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.
“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.
Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.
You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.
Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.
He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.
“Fuck,” Jason gasped.
You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.
You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.
Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.
As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.
“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.
And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.
When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.
Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.
“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.
“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.
“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.
“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”
He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.
“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”
“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”
“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.
“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”
He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.
Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”
He left.
***
He had avoided you for a long time after that.
Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.
When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.
And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.
You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.
Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.
But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.
Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.
Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.
He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.
It was your birthday after all.
When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.
Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.
“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.
Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.
“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”
“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”
“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”
“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.
“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.
The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.
The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.
Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.
Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.
Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.
Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.
“Hey,” he heard your voice.
“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.
“Thanks,” you replied.
And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.
“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.
He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.
“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.
“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”
The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.
He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.
Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.
Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.
His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.
You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.
“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”
Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.
“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”
Another round of claps.
“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”
“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”
You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.
“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”
Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.
Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”
Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.
“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”
You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.
The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.
This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.
“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”
“Well done,” Dick grinned.
Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.
“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”
Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.
He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.
“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.
He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.
“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.
He turned and saw you come up next to him.
“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”
It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.
“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.
“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”
“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”
Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.
“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.
“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”
“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”
“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”
And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.
Silence fell again.
“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.
“For what?” he frowned.
“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”
Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.
“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”
He turned around to face you.
“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”
You faced him with curious eyes.
“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”
“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”
“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”
“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”
“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”
“Jason.”
“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”
“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”
You lowered your voice.
“Want to talk inside?” he offered.
“Good idea,” you agreed.
The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.
“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.
“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”
He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”
“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”
“Really?”
Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”
“What? How so?”
“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”
“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.
“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”
“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.
He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.
“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”
You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.
“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”
He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.
Fuck it. He might as well.
“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”
You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.
“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”
He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”
“What do I think?” he repeated.
You nodded.
“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”
“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”
Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.
“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”
You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.
“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”
To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.
And then you bit down hard.
He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.
“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.
The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.
Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.
“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.
“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”
“You bet it was,” you smiled.
“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.
“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”
“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”
He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking
“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”
“Point taken, baby.”
“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.
He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”
It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.
“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.
“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.
“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.
Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.
“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.
“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.
Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.
You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.
He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.
Yet.
“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.
“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.
“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.
“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”
“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”
“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”
“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”
“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”
You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.
“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.
He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.
“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.
“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.
“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”
You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.
“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.
Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.
You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.
“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.
“Long gone,” you winked.
“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.
“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”
“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.
“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”
You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.
“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”
“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”
“You want me to move?” you teased.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.
“Any- I don’t care-”
“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.
“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”
It was all he could say.
“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.
“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”
You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.
“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”
He couldn’t take it anymore.
He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.
He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”
“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.
“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.
“But-”
“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.
Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.
Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.
“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”
“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”
“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.
You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.
You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.
He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.
“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.
“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.
“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.
“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”
“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.
“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.
“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.
“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.
“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”
“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”
You giggled.
He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”
“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”
“What?”
“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”
“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”
374 notes · View notes
heysatori · 4 years
Text
How they are with a sleepy s/o
genre: fluff
pairings: Kuroo x reader, Kenma x reader, Tendou x reader, and Suna x reader
a/n: another self indulgent post ( ̄▽ ̄*)ゞ ive just been sleeping a lot lately especially during my classes so i thought of this heh|requests are still open (´• ω •`) ♡ |
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Kuroo Tetsurou
our captain is quite energetic and only retires to bed at night !
so when he learns abt how sleepy u are he teases u so much !
he'd catch u asleep in a lot of places
the classroom, the gym, the local convience store by your house, hell even the bathroom
hes super protective of u and he cares abt u a lot !! so he'd give u a light scolding about falling asleep in public places, especially if youre alone
after that though, hes always with u
he just wants u to be safe !!
and who better to protect u than ur own boyfriend right?
study sessions always end up being 1-2 hours of studying and you asleep the entire time after that
usually he doesnt really notice that ure asleep since u work pretty quietly
but when he looks up from his work sheet to see ur head flat against the table, blissfully knocked out - he can't help but chuckle
"kitten! youve fallen asleep again!!"
whether at his house or your house, he'd always pick you up and place you on his/your bed, even covering you with a blanket so ure comfy
he'd resume studying after that
but not for long
how could he ignore how cute u look over there??? cuddling up into a pillow when it could be him youre cuddling up against !!
so he'd quickly tidy his things on the desk and gently lay down next to you, shifting a little to get under the blanket
at the newfound warmth, ur unconscious body moves towards his body, quick to mush ur face into his chest (´。• ω •。`) ♡
he finds u so cute !!!
he cant help but lean down and give u a few kisses here and there
he falls asleep not long after that with u safe in his arms
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Kozume Kenma
our gamer boy isnt much of a sleeper
he'd rather spend his time gaming
which is, by default, what he ends up doing
when he realized how sleepy u are of a person, well he doesnt really mind
hes kinda scared for you at certain times, especially when u tell him stories about falling asleep on the train home
hes not there to keep u safe and wake u up !!
he'd tell u off with a little pout after those stories
its dangerous to be so sleepy !
u understand of course and always keep his words in the front of ur brain, especially when ure alone
being at home is a different story though
whenever u come over to his house, u always end up falling asleep one way or another
whether it be on the bed while watching a video on ur phone
waiting for him to finish a game
on the couch after a good meal, etc.
with how lax u are abt sleeping, kenma suggests an idea that u couldnt turn down
"pudding, cmere"
kenma says one day as he games, pushing his chair out a little of his desk, vaguely gesturing to his lap
u immediately light up and crawl into his lap immediately !!
u settle down with ur arms around his neck and ur head laying on his shoulder
kenma pulls his chair back in and resumes gaming, this time with a cutie in his lap !
u'll fall asleep not long after that, especially with the calming sounds of the clacking of his keyboard and the clicking of his mouse
he wont ever admit it but he'll give u forehead kisses every now and then while he games (´ ω `♡)
ure just so cute in his lap !! he cant resist 
since kenma can also be pretty lazy he also ends up taking naps with u too 
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Tendou Satori
miracle boy satori is a very energetic and hyperactive boy in general
so when he learns that his lovely s/o is basically a snorlax he cant help but tease u a little !
whenever he'd find u asleep in odd places, such as the classroom, a table, the floor, etc.
he'd wake u up gently !
little pokes on ur face and a few kisses until ur eyes flutter open
"theres my pretty baby!"
other than that, such as u sleeping around at home, he wouldnt bother to wake u
maybe cover u in a blanket or even join u !!
there are a lot of times tho where u fall asleep while waiting for him
since shiratorizawa has dorms he'd give u his key so u can chill in his room while waiting for him after practice
so one day when he retires to his room after a gruesome practice, he didn’t expect to see u snuggled up under his sheets !! 
he finds the sight so adorable and hes eternally glad that he decided to shower at the gym instead of showering at his dorm ! 
he drops his bag (quietly) and changes into some comfier clothes immediately 
once hes all tidied up, he shuts off the lights and climbs into bed with u ! 
he snuggles up under the sheets and immediately wraps his arms around u, pulling u closer to him 
u subconsciously wrap ur own arms around him and he melts !! 
ure so cute !!!! 
he leans down and gives u a big wet kiss on the forehead before he closes his eyes and decides to head to sleep too 
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Suna Rintarou 
suna here is quite a sleepy person 
so u two end up being the perfect pair !! 
well other ppl say otherwise but thats besides the point 
he loves sleeping with u !!
and despite his cold exterior he always melts when u cuddle up to him when u fall asleep on his chest after a long day 
there a few times where he finds u asleep at the gym while waiting for him 
and he honestly doesnt have the heart to wake u up when u look so peaceful
but he eventually does wake u up with a little nudge to ur shoulder 
“cmon bunny lets head to my house and take a nap” 
a common phrase from the man 
other times when u both cant fall asleep but still feel sleepy u guys just cuddle ! 
his favorite position is u laying on his chest with a hand resting on ur back or ur head 
sometimes he likes it vise versa too 
u guys watch a lot of movies during cuddle sessions or his guilty pleasure (cooking/baking shows) 
whenever u do fall asleep before him he always give u a kiss on the corner of ur lips and the middle of ure forehead before he drifts off himself 
4K notes · View notes
flowerwrites06 · 4 years
Text
break my mind’s eye I — jjk
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Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal. 
Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle) 
Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+
Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series
Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 
Word Count: 7k+
Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff
Tags & Warnings: drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution 
Authors Note: finally i was able to conclude that bmme can be reposted!! please welcome back this precious gem of mine 
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The first time she saw was before one of her fashion shows. Small event compared to the likes of Gucci or Louis Vuitton but for her the biggest night of her life was about to happen. Unfortunately minutes before the show started, Belle got a call from her uncle to pick Taehyung up from their place and his tone sounded utterly bleak.
Walking away from a highly angered manager she rushed off to pick him up only to find him sitting outside on the porch in the cold wind, laughing a little to himself before swearing at no one. It was the first day Belle found out the things he had been taking.
Weed, ecstasy…she even found a small bag of cocaine hidden in his hoodie after getting him cleaned up.
“Where the hell did you get money for cocaine?” Belle tried to search his expression but Taehyung was too busy stumbling as he finally fell onto her bed.
“I know a guy. I promised to pay him back soon.” Taehyung mumbled turning to rest on his back, his limbs refused to stay still to a point where Belle started to get annoyed.
“Tae, how much do you owe this guy?” She asked, heart thumping a little knowing cocaine especially was not inexpensive and that mixed with other drugs…
His body being ruined was one heart-wrenching thing but she dreaded the amount of money this all cost.
Her brother stayed silent closing his eyes to let out a few breaths which caused her blood to boil even more.
Belle understood why Taehyung turned to something so putrid to relieve him of their recent troubles. There was a moment in time where she even thought to do so, maybe to ease some of the pain of they both went through. But it was getting out of hand.
-
The next morning Belle fixed him up a proper breakfast to distract him from taking another dose of the things he bought. Or was loaned anyway since he didn’t have a job or savings to pay for any of the products she found.
Taehyung didn’t even come to the table.
Instead as she walked towards the bedroom, she found him shirtless snorting something up his nose as he quickly threw his head back. Just hearing his sigh of relief made Belles’ stomach churn to near sickness.
Fuming, Belle grabbed whatever pieces of his stash she could find on the table and threw it in the bin pushing it away when he tried to savor anything that could be fished out. She saw his eyes widen so much that it almost seemed his eyeballs were going to fall on his hand.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Taehyung yelled, voice growly while his nose still had remnants of white powder dripping and his eyes bloodshot more than ever. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get shit like that?!”
“I don’t care, you’re done with this!” Belle stood her ground but kept her voice calm, her own glossy eyes fixated on his.
“You don’t fucking get it!” Taehyung winced, face contorting it looked like he was about to cry. “I need it, okay? And I got that shit from a guy that works in the Jeon Cartel!” He gestured over to the entrance of the apartment. “I can’t ask for anymore, I haven’t paid for anything.” He yanked at his hair whining under his breath like a spoiled child not getting the toy he wanted.
Belle shook her head slightly, tears forming at the brim of her eyes. “Tae…” Her voice grew shakier now. “How much do you owe them?” Her bottom lip quivered watching his chest rise and fall heavily.
He stayed silent averting his gaze.
“Taehyung.” Her tone quickly turned firm though her heart pounded painfully. “How much do you owe them?” Belle truly hated acting like the oldest between the two.
Taehyung used to take care of her every single day almost more than her own parents since they mostly focused on their oldest son because he had ‘a lot more potential’. Her stomach ached looking at all the potential slowly going down the drain right in front of her eyes.
“A few hundred…six…maybe seven…” Taehyung muttered trying not to look directly at her when he spoke. He probably knew exactly the kind of shock gripped her face and he was damn right.
Belles’ entire body turned cold, her fingers almost wanting to fish out the substances herself just knowing how much money it cost to get it. But she curled them up into fists wanting to look strong. “I don’t…know how it feels…I do know it hurts and I know why you’re doing this but…I can’t lose you too.” She whispered, vision getting blurry as a lump grew in her throat. “You’re my big brother, you’ve always looked after me.”
Taehyung bit down his bottom lip lowering his head in slight shame.
“Please let me look after you.” She pleaded in a whisper trying to search his expression, to see any sense of softness or thought.
Her brother sobbed a little, running his shaky fingers through his matted hair before nodding but still trying not to meet her gaze. “Okay.”
Belle let out a trembling sigh of relief, a tear escaping slowly down her cheek when she finally relaxed. “I have savings you can use to pay for the drugs you asked for.” She stated in a gentle tone this time as Taehyung stared at her, shaking his head.
“That’s your boutique money, you can’t—”
“Yes I can.” She forced a smile across her face to reassure him. “My boutique can wait. I want you to get better.”
Taehyung gulped down carefully padding over his sister before leaning his head on her shoulder at an attempt of a lazy hug. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered against the fabric of her sweater, a light whimper under his breath. “Thank you.”
The chill that spread through her body now warmed up as she wrapped her arms around her brother, feeling like the younger sister if only for a second. “Who do we have to pay?” Belle asked sniffling a little.
“My debts’ too high…” Taehyungs’ grip tightened around the girl. “…the guy who gave me the drugs tells me I need to go straight to the boss for questioning if I come back again.”
Oh god, Taehyung…what did you get yourself into?
-
Much to Taehyungs’ discontent, Belle insisted on coming with him with the envelope of the payment in her hand. She figured cash would be more believable instead of bank transferring especially since there was so much money piled up for just debt. Her older brother looked at her a little surprised at how well she knew how to maneuver these things. “Being in the fashion industry doesn’t just mean I draw and sew clothes, you know.” She replied simply as she drove the both of them to the address Taehyungs’ guy told him to go.
During the trip she wanted to mention how sneaky it was to just give them the address and not come along. But then again…this wasn’t exactly an ethical business to begin with.
Of course it wasn’t difficult in the slightest to find the Jeon household considering it was on the outskirts of the city. A large sandstone colored mansion with vines growing off of the sides and golden detail on the windows and pillars. They drove in front of the closed entrance where Taehyung told them his name and that he was being expected which thankfully caused the large gate to slide open with a painful screech sound.
Heart pounded so hard it could have ripped out of her ribcages, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her palms a little sweaty. The guards lined up in front of the door with their suits and shades making her homemade white floral dress look like peasants work. Even from here she could recognize that those uniforms were not made from some random ordinary designer. Even though the design itself was quite ordinary.
Taehyung walked out of the car first before Belle followed suit.
As soon as she walked out, one of the guards held his hand out.
“Ma’am, the boss requests that you give away your car in the duration of the meeting.” He spoke in a robotic tone.
Belle wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her directly since the shades were so dark but she gave him her car keys anyway. The feeling of emptiness eerily seeping through her already nerve-wracked body. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Taehyung must be feeling around all of this.
They were led into the mansion by three guards. The entrance was really just a big hall that stretched across the whole expanse of the building. When they passed a large open archway then Belle could see the furnished details; a few couches circled around in the middle of the large space with the fireplace behind the sitting, a bar on the far right with some maids tending to the dust while there were stairs on the left leading to the upper level.
Why would they want meet them personally for a few hundred dollars? It looked like a small loss looking at the quality of this whole building down to the outfits their guards were wearing.
Maybe it was more greed than the amount of the money.
“Please be seated. Master Jeon will speak to you shortly.” The same guard declared before moving back to his post and standing there like a statue.
Taehyung and Belle sat at the couch that faced the fireplace. Thankfully the maids were kind enough to turn it on since she hadn’t realized how cool it was going to be in the house. They offered them tea which they both turned down. An empty stomach meant less likely for her to throw up from the anxiousness. Taehyung, on the other hand, lost interest for food altogether barely eating anything but crumbs.
She noticed the hollowness of his cheeks and the darkness under his eyes. How long had it been since she saw a smile stretching across his lips? Taehyung used to be filled with light and passion beyond anything Belle had ever seen. He was the reason she pushed herself to pursue her own dreams despite the side-eyes from their parents. He defended her passion. He protected from unfair treatment always giving her shine he thought she deserved.
Now Belle had to repay the favor. She needed to encourage her brother to restart his path back to one that made him happy instead of one that slowly destroyed him to the core.
Footsteps brought her back out from her thoughts, eyes trailing over to the stairs. A tall built figure dressed in an all-white suit with a button-up shirt to match, loosely done up so his gold necklace could glimmer in the light. Belle noticed the gold cufflinks shimmering from his wrists. Hair styled somewhat neatly with a side part and strands hovering his eye when he moved, lips a rosy hue and his face looked for younger than she expected.
When people said ‘drug lord’ she imagined a stumpy old creep with similar attire except traditionally unkempt with facial hair and untrimmed chest hair that hung over their shirts.
Despite his pleasant appearance, Belle was not going to be blinded to the fact that this man thrived off of her brothers’ suffering.
The man finally met her gaze after only glancing a little at Taehyung before sitting down on the couch in front of them. Legs spread apart ever so slightly, he leaned back with one of his arms extended out. “Mr. Kim.” He spoke in a soft tone, eyes going back to her older brother now. “Do you recognize who I am?” He searched his expression.
Taehyung kept his head lowered but nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Who am I?” He pressed on like a father calmly scolding his child.
“M-Master Jeon Jungkook…” He muttered helplessly almost glancing up to meet his gaze but quickly looking down once again.
“So you do know…” Jungkook nodded, pressing his lips together. “Here I was thinking you consider me a joke. Taking bags and bags of my products while assuming I won’t try to track you down. Is that you what you thought of me?” His tone grew firmer.
Unlike Taehyung, Belle kept her head up, maintaining her gaze on the stranger. It seemed like Jungkook had a good eye for noticing when he flickered over to look at her instead.
“No, sir.” Taehyung shook his head frantically. “I-I just n-needed to get my money together.” He explained in a shaky voice not noticing that his precious ‘sir’ was staring at Belle a lot longer than she was comfortable.
Maybe he was waiting for her to duck her head down like her older brother.
The urge to do so was stronger than ever but Belle persisted. Until Jungkook glanced over at Taehyung again.
Her brothers’ fingers trembled violently at this point. Belle itched to comfort him somehow but she wanted him to try and face on his own to some extent. Coming here and sitting next to him was already being far too lenient but she couldn’t let him do this completely alone. Not when the healing process was so fresh and people like Jungkook would do anything to make sure he stayed addicted.
“Where’s the money?” Jungkook gestured towards him.
Belle took a small breath, placing the envelope on her lap onto the glass coffee table. “One of your men said he owed seven hundred.” She spoke up now trying to keep her voice as steady as possible even though her heart was beating out of control. “The envelope has eight just in case he wasn’t accurate.” A chilly feeling brushed over her body when her savings just sat there on the coffee table. Nothing but petty money for Jungkook but to her, it was the only way she could afford the vacant building in the city for her boutique.
“And you are?”
“His sister.” She muttered, glancing over at Taehyung who let out a deep sigh.
Jungkook stared down at the thick envelope for a few minutes with a raised brow. “Jongho…” He curled his fingers in towards a guard who quickly rushed over to stand beside him. “Please escort Mr. Kim to the second living room for a moment. I’d like to have a word with Ms…”
“Belle.”
“Belle…” The corner of his lip curled up before he gestured again towards the man called Jongho and he immediately led Taehyung away from them.
Belles’ heart raced seeing his helpless face looking back at her not sure if he was trying to apologize or if he was terrified of why they were being separated. “Why’re you taking him away?” She asked, being as polite as possible but her tightening fists told a different story.
“I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook murmured. He leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes searching her expression closely. “I thought it’d be better if I had a private conversation with a more steady minded person rather than your brother.” He nodded behind her.
Her brows furrowed glancing down at the closed envelope before staring up at him. “We got you the money, why do we need to have a conversation?” Belle’s voice was low just enough for only Jungkook to hear and no one else. Not that she could raise her voice even if she tried from how closed up her throat was.
“Because I’m honorable to an extent but I also hate people taking advantage of my kindness.” Jungkook shrugged lightly. “Your brother had been freely given all the products he consumed and he waited three months to give me my payment.” He let his sentence linger in the air to add more effect. “Three months of losing product and receiving no profit in return is not a risk I like making, Belle. Nor do I want to make it again.”
“So…what’re you saying?” Belle thought of the worst possible scenarios. Would they take Taehyung away and punish him? Or kill him? Was he being punished right now and Jungkook was just lying to prevent a scene? She watched his soft eyes trail up and down her form trying to be subtle but Belle caught it immediately feeling the urge to hide away into the couch.
“I’m saying the deal’s changed.” Jungkook declared in the most casual way like you would cancel a simple outing to the mall. “Look I can get money anytime I want to…you know that, don’t you?” He tilted his head a little searching her features. “I asked for this personal meeting on the basis of principle. Taehyung and many people like him need to understand that we stand by codes just as much as anyone. I’m not a money pig that just drools and accepts cash when it’s given to me.” He raised a brow.
Belle winced lightly, shaking her head. “Then why are we here? What do you want?”
Jungkook did nothing for a minute and gave her a soft smile. “Something he can take a little more seriously than cash…well—someone.”
Blood drained from her body from her aching head to her toes. Belle pierced into his smug gaze hoping…praying that he didn’t meant what she thought. The last thing she ever looked to be afraid of but now became the ultimate bane of her visit.
A visit thought to be quick and sweet with cash exchanged. How could she be surprised? These people wanted so much but still asked for more. What more could she expect from the man that took just to have the power to take some more? “Taehyung’s a good man.” She whispered. “He won’t do this again.”
“That’s what a lot of people tell me for years about their relatives or friends, Belle.” Jungkook murmured under his breath keeping the conversation to themselves despite the maids and guards standing around. “My grandfather heard it…my father heard it…every single time those people come back begging for more and then we get blamed for the dead bodies.” He sighed in slight defeat but she didn’t buy it in the slightest.
There was nothing noble about this request. If he were any other man gaining the audacity to say something like this, he would expect a hard punch on his nose. Except now it wasn’t just her own safety in question. Nor was Jungkook any ordinary man who could be taken by police or a punch looking at his build. “What am I supposed to do?” Belle murmured, heat flushing in her body making her more exasperated than grateful at the running fireplace.
Once again, a smile stretched across Jungkooks’ rosy lips. If it were taken out of context you’d think he was some sweet boy admiring something. But the reality was far from that lie. “You’re not going to be my prisoner, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiled a little wider, eyes glimmering. “I’m not that evil.”
Debatable.
“You’re a lot more intelligent than you let on.”
“You just met me.”
“But I meet a lot of people…a little too many. So I tend to rely on first impressions and hope I’m right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“And if you’re wrong?”
He chuckled under his breath gesturing over to his guards. “They’re not there for decoration…and I don’t always negotiate like this. I’m just having a good day.” She saw his expression grow dark but the smile still remained making him look utterly sinister.
Visions of Taehyung tied to a chair, sobbing flashed across her mind making her mentally slap herself back to reality. She couldn’t look weak in front of him of all people. That’s what he wanted…for people to cower in front of him as he spewed his threats around to get everything he asked for. But denying him completely and storming out wouldn’t exactly be the smartest decision either considering she didn’t actually know where her brother was. The mansion was still mystery to her and Jungkook could easily hurt any of them as he so subtly stated with that stupid, fucking smile.
“So…what do you say, Belle? Do we have an accord?”
-
Taehyung was led back into the main living room, slightly yanking off of Jongho’ grasp and giving him a glare when he walked away. He looked over at Belle, her back facing him standing in front of Jungkook. “Belle?”
Belle looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile as she walked closer. She let out a sigh of relief seeing no sign of injury on the older male.
“Did he do something to you?” After the longest time, Taehyung sounded like an older brother again looking after Belle whenever she looked the slightest bit distressed. “What did he say?” He whispered.
She stayed silent, gaze lowered to look at his T-shirt before flickering up to force a smile at him. “It’s going to be okay.” Belle murmured. “He even offered to pay for your rehabilitation and get you back on your feet.”
Brows furrowed now gaining the urge to glance over at Jungkook but he couldn’t seem to stop searching his sisters’ expression. “Why would he want to pay for—”
“I told him to.” Belle gulped, smile fading away into a small frown.
“Belle, we can’t pay him back for all of that.” Taehyung held onto her bare arms feeling the cold skin underneath his.
She nodded. “Yes we can. He’s only asking for one thing.”
“…What?” He whispered.
Belle bit down her bottom lip, chin quivering a little before she smiled again even though her eyes grew glossy. “He wants me.”
Taehyungs’ heart plummeted making his whole body feel heavy. “No…” He shook his head, grip tightening around her arms as if she was going to disappear if he let go. “He can’t do that.”
“I agreed.”
“Belle!” It was more a loud whisper than anything but it managed to turn a few heads. “He’s going t—”
“I know what he’s going to do.” Belle rubbed his chest soothingly. “But this is the only way I can help you.”
“You have the money, why won’t he take it?” He gestured towards the envelope on the coffee table which now looked long forgotten.
Belle lowered her gaze. “Because he thinks you’ll just do it all again. He doesn’t trust you.”
“And you trust him?” Taehyung retorted causing heat to bubble up inside Belle.
“I trust you to do your part in this promise.” She tightened her jaw, wincing as the lump in her throat grew painful. “Unless you have a better idea to escape a pissed off drug lord then you will do this.” Tears flooded at her eyes threatening to escape but her gaze persisted on him. “Please promise me you’ll try to get better from now on.” Her lips quivered. “I didn’t know how else to help you. But now you need to help me. You need to heal and get back on your feet.”
Taehyung brushed against his fingers through the hair rested on her shoulder. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Belle shook her head as an attempt to reassure him but he didn’t look at all convinced. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled faintly, a few tears escaping down her cheeks which he wiped off gently.
“I’m so sorry…” He whimpered, fingers curling around her hair. “This is all my fault, I should’ve just come here on my own.”
“He would’ve killed you.”
“But you’d be happy.”
Belle chuckled sadly. “You really think I’d be happy if I lost you?”
“But you wouldn’t be here.” Taehyung side glanced over at the guards who looked completely unfazed by the whole ordeal while Jungkook had his back turned to them, gazing out into the garden outside.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” Belle wasn’t sure if that was directed at her brother or herself. Was this meant to be her big fork in the road? The path she was supposed to determine her whole life. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was amount to only one thing… but she’d be caught dead before she cowered begging before people like Jungkook. If he wanted her then he could have her. But he’d be an idiot to think she wasn’t going to use that to her own advantage one day. “We’re allowed to see each other so you’re not losing me, okay? I’ll be there whenever you need me.”
Taehyung sighed in frustration averting his gaze, boring holes in the back of Jungkooks’ head with his glare. “I want to kill him.”
“Then we’ll never get out of here.” Belle replied simply.
Finally Taehyung succumbed to his sisters’ wishes, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead before letting go, physically deflating as he was led out of the mansion by one of the guards.
One of them, same Jongho walked over to her. “I’ll drive him back safely, Ms. Kim.” He gave her a reassuring smile before following Taehyung out of the mansion.
The double doors closed blocking out whatever light that came from it leaving her empty.
“Taehyung will call you when he gets home. So you know he’s safe.” Jungkook spoke up now in a gentle tone but Belle kept her back to him. “And your personal belongings will be moved here in a few days.”
She licked her lips before lowering her gaze, letting a few silent sobs before wiping the tears away. “Where can I freshen up?” Belle looked down at her fingers seeing the light mascara smudges, trying to wipe at the corners of his eyes to wipe any traces away.
Jungkook seemed like he gestured towards one of the maids because a kind looking woman padded over and touched her on the shoulder.
Her grey hair wrapped up in a bun and the smile lines around her face showed when she gave her a sweet grin, making her look like the only person that seemed somewhat trustworthy in this building. “Let’s go upstairs, dear.” She held onto her arms and led her towards the stairs. “I’ll get some new clothes sent up as well.”
Belle didn’t glance at Jungkook but she could feel his gaze on her when she was led up the stairs to the now shared master bedroom.
-
Similar to what a hotel suite would look like, the master bedroom adorned a modern design with an opaque black curtains drawn to keep the room cool and ambient with the warm lights. A king-sized bed with classic white sheets with some gold detail matching the aesthetic of the whole mansion itself. There was a marble partition that had a small gap on the bottom with a modern looking fireplace on to keep the room warm, situated on the immediate left when they walked in.
On the other side of the partition was a desk with a closed laptop and some files. Another open archway on the right that led to a walk-in-wardrobe with lit up shelves that accentuated all the different shoes and shirts.
Upon walking through the archway into the wardrobe, on the right, there was the private bathroom just as big as every other small area in the monster of a bedroom.
Belle was led into the bathroom by the kind maid where she saw a shower that could have been the size of her laundry room, a sink just in front of it with a bathtub on the far end. The white bathtub contrasted against the grey marble floor with a large window that showed a forest-like view.
“It’s an illusion.” The maid explained as if to reassure her that her baths were not going to be displayed out into the world. “The Master asked for a glass case that held shrubs but the foggy forest is an intricate painting by one of the familys’ personal artists. He likes the feeling of being disconnected from the modern world when he’s relaxing.”
Normally the design would impress her greatly. The idea of having the illusion of a calm forest without the hassle of actually moving to one was genius and the greyish light gave the bathroom a relaxing morning feel. Right now however it made her feel more trapped than ever. Even the view outside was just an illusion in her new cage. Nothing felt solid and real at this point like Belle was a ghost floating around in a dream that never seemed to end.
“Your towels are over on the stand there, dear. I’ll have robes and a change of clothes brought to you outside soon.” The maid smiled patting her lightly on her arm. “Don’t fret too much, darling. I don’t think the master has any intention of hurting you.”
“It’s not him hurting me that’s making me nervous.” Belle smiled sadly, grateful that the woman even cared to reassure her somehow.
“Ah…” The maid smiled and nodded knowingly. “I’ll get you some of my special tea…it calmed me down on my wedding night.”
Belle’s heart sank seeing the woman smile at her a little sadly too. “Is the secret ingredient whiskey?” She tried to lighten the mood which successfully made the woman chuckle. Somehow seeing the way the woman helped her in her own way reminded her of why she was in this glass case in the first place. She remembered Taehyung smiling again, throwing away all the things that tarnished all the peace in his heart and being free. She needed to be strong.
“Not really but…I’ll see what I can do.” She whispered the last bit with a cheeky smile before turning on her heel to leave Belle in a few moments of solitary freedom at the very least.
-
It may have been dark by now.
At least when Belle peeked the slightest outside the curtained window, the sun had been dipping into the hills to give the sky a pinkish hue. Her heart pounded at the lack of notifications from her brother. Her body felt fresher now that she had a comfortable long white nightie with a thin robe to keep her arms somewhat cozy. But skin still heated up significantly with her anxiety.
Then minutes passed before her phone buzzed and her heart released a thousand sighs of relief seeing Taehyung’s name.
“Belle?”
“Yes it’s me.” Belle whispered with a biggest grin on her face from the sheer relief. “You went home okay? They didn’t hurt you?”
“No, no they were just… fine.” Confusion trailed in Taehyung’s voice. “That guy has way too much fucking power, they just dropped me off and left saying they’ll come back to drop me off at the rehab center. Normally his men tried to rough me up whenever they saw me.”
“That’s because they knew you’re the guy that doesn’t pay.” Belle cringed mentally hearing herself defend their actions but…she was a little too good at considering perspectives, she guessed.
“I guess…also I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you if you’re okay.” Taehyung corrected but Belle let his words linger in the air for a moment.
Sitting in the luxury bedroom wearing a clearly quality robe with people working at her beck and call, in a first glance people would call her lucky. Digging deeper into the surface and seeing that Belle was manipulated into being in his position then people would call Jungkook a monster.
Was it only one of them? Was it both? Was it neither? Was this just a game that Belle had no choice but to play for a time until her brother got better? How far did Jungkook even think this through? Why was he so interested in manipulating Taehyung the most? Did he do this to every sister, brother or parent that came around? Did they even come this far?
“Belle, you still there?”
“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay. I’m just sitting.” She quickly explained.
The thoughts crowded in her head making it ache but thankfully the maid—her name she found out was Nana—gave her a piping hot cup of tea apparently laced with some herbs that helped calm anxiety and nerves. It was an ancient herb given to young girls so they could go through their wedding night without having an anxiety attack or breaking down. Blowing away some of the steam, Belle took a few sips ignoring the bitter taste on her tongue.
“I don’t know what he wants yet but I think I have an idea.” Belle spoke solemnly.
“You really don’t have to do this, Belle.” Taehyung whispered desperately.
“We don’t have any other choice.”
“You could just come back home and I’ll just handle it.”
“You had three months to handle it.” Her voice grew firm quicker than she even expected but she kept her head cool. Silence ran on the other end of the line making Belle sigh to calm herself down. “We just need to keep our heads. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t mean to make her tone sound so dreary but this wasn’t exactly the cheeriest of moments in her life. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of her soft nightie trying to empty her mind for a little while. “I need to go, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay…Belle…”
“Yeah?”
“…I love you. Be safe.”
The lump in her throat grew again suffocating her when she forcefully swallowed it down. “I love you too.” Belle whispered before hanging up. Taking longer sips from her tea now, it took a few seconds for her feel her limbs loosen like ice melting near a fireplace. Her body cooled down from her heated anxiety to a comfortable warmth she could melt into without the worries of the troubles around her.
For a moment, she could close her eyes and relish in the new found relief wanting to silently thank Nana for providing her this cup of momentary tranquility.
The door opened with the familiar white-suited man walking in giving her a glance as he shrugged his blazer off. “Nana got you some clothes…good.” Jungkook muttered, walking into the walk-in wardrobe and placing his blazer back before taking off his cufflinks when he walked back in the bedroom. “Is it comfortable?”
“Yes.” Belle replied, brushing her palms across the smooth sleeves of the robe. She never worked with satin a lot but whenever she felt it under her skin it gave her the tingle of pure luxury. “I just spoke to Taehyung…he came home safe.”
“I told you he would.” Jungkook murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulder before placing into a hamper for the maids to take care of.
Belle noticed the stencil like silhouette of a phoenix etched into the right side of his chest as he walked over to his side of the bed. “You kept to your word. Thank you.” Not that you deserve it but…common courtesy.
She caught a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while he unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor.
“Do I sense a little bitterness, Ms. Kim?” Jungkook mused.
“Why? You don’t like a little bitter taste on your tongue?” Snakes must get used to it by now, she thought.
“I know you’re not a fan of me.” He stated the fucking obvious. “But you could say no anytime. I’ll just deal with your brother without bothering you again.”
Belle tightened her jaw, gripping onto the fabric of her nightie averting her gaze forcing a long silence to plunge into the room.
Jungkook finally sighed. “I didn’t mean that.” He muttered but Belle was mostly trying to focus back on the relaxation the tea gave her again. “Our accord is as solid any other contract so I’m not allowed to touch your brother…while you’re still with me anyway.”
“Is this how you get all your girls?”
He chuckled walking over and standing in front of Belle, forcing her to look up at him. “Would you be pleased if I said no?” Jungkook placed an index finger under her chin while his thumb hovered for a moment over her lips.
“Only if it’s the truth.” Belle replied simply, her knees melting into the surface of the bed.
Jungkook smirked moving his hands into her hair. “I don’t invite just anyone in my bed, no. But you’re not just anyone.”
“Why do you think that?” She asked as he slowly leaned in closer, fingers sliding down the crook of her neck letting the sleeves of her robe and nightie slip down with a mere touch.
“Because you were the only one brave enough to come this far.” He whispered pushing down the other side of her sleeves to leave her shoulders exposed. “Girls love the bad boys but never seem to understand what they’re asking for.” Cold fingers brushed against her collarbones, across her chest up her neck until he finally caressed her bottom lip with his index finger.
They want a fairytale. Beauty and the Beast. But eventually they find out that the Beast was never a prince in the first place. They realize that a mere kiss won’t break the curse.
“You know exactly what you’re asking for… don’t you?” Jungkook asked in a tone of a warm coo.
I’m not asking for this, Belle bit her tongue. But I do know what I’m getting myself into. What you gave me no choice but to get into. She stared at him determined to keep his gaze no matter how much she wanted to close her eyes. He wasn’t going to overpower her, not in that way. I received a beast instead of a prince…but you’re not getting any vulnerable fucking princess either. Keeping her eyes on his, she parted her lips and took his finger into her mouth barely waiting for Jungkook to make any move before she began suckling on it.
“Of course you do.” The mere action was enough of an answer for the male as his smirk grew darker. Jungkook took his finger away pushing down her nightie and robe further down until her breasts were displayed to him.
Belle was grateful for the warmth from the fireplace spreading through the room at his point. But in mere seconds Jungkook used his glistening finger to brush across her nipple causing it to stand erect almost instantly. A light gasp caught in her throat as she pressed her palms on the surface of the bed making her chest push out a little. When she threw her head back a little, he quickly took the opportunity to devour her lips, tongue pushing against her teeth which she kept clamp shut.
Long enough for him to get impatient and bite down her bottom lip a little. Then she allowed him to push through and explore her mouth. Jungkook knelt down but kept their lips locked as he sneaked his hands under her nightie, pushing the soft fabric, nails grazing against her skin causing a tingle down her spine.
Belle lifted a little to let him push the dress further up until he completely pulled both pieces of clothing off over her head. Before she could even comprehend her exposure, he picked her up a little and shifted so she could rest her head on the silk pillows. Her heart raced against her ribcages but she stopped being sure of why at this point, instead she thought about the herbs Nana gave her. Maybe thinking about how it can help would psychologically increase its effects? Stupid but maybe.
When she looked down at the male out of curiosity, she saw him discard his pants and boxers before climbing back onto the bed.
Belle kept her legs closed loosely before he pushed them apart, hands gliding down her inner thighs to her panties. His thumb pressed against the clothing right against her hiding nub making her jerk her hips a little at the suddenly awakened nerves.
He didn’t waste any time to hook the hem of her panties and strip it off her before dipping down in between her legs. His mouth feasted on her clit, tongue licking around her slit before sliding in teasingly slow and moving back to suckling on her bundle of nerves.
Her chest rose and fell as her eyes focused more on the ceiling, biting onto her bottom lip, light whimpers emitting from under her breath.
Jungkook released her clit with a pop sound before settling his hips between her legs. His already hardened shaft teased her slit a little more, wet sounds tickling her ears before she felt him stretch her out.
A moan finally erupted from her throat, clenching around him making him groan.
“It’s okay…” He whispered in her ear when she turned her head to the side. “Does it hurt a lot?”
Belle’s head felt like it was trying to find a straight line in a completely scribbled piece of paper. Her core ached for a moment. She felt Jungkooks’ thumb rub at her clit making her walls relax a little as she focused on the light wash of pleasure rushing across her lower body. Slowly she shook her head moving back to face him again. “No…it’s okay.” She whispered, meeting his gaze when he still wasn’t moving. Leaning up she pressed a shy kiss on his lips.
It took mere seconds before Jungkook began moving in and out of her, still slowly rubbing circles on her erect clit.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, their foreheads pressed against each other as he grinded into her slightly nudging the spot that sent sparks through her body.
His pace quickened, both hands pressed down on the surface of the bed as he thrusted into her in a steady pattern letting the sounds of skin slapping linger in the air.
Belles’ skull felt numb, her mind locked up all her thoughts and allowed her body to succumb to his consistent pounding. Head threw back against the pillow as he chased his own orgasm, her own juices spluttering onto his lower belly. She hummed lightly under her breath which seemed to encourage Jungkook to go faster until the bed started to shift.
Jungkook lowered down a bit more, pressing wet kisses on her neck, trying to muffle his moans against her skin as his thrusts grew sloppy.
Belle felt a gentle wave of pleasure before Jungkook quickly pulled out with his release splattering all over her belly. She let out a small sigh, rubbing circles on her clit again to prolong her small climax before her bundle felt too sensitive to touch making her legs close up again. She watched the other male catch his breath still kneeling in front of her before crashing on the space beside her.
Whatever piece of physical satisfaction swirled around her body melted quickly into her chest clenching painfully. It didn’t take too long for her to notice all too clearly what spilt on her skin but Jungkook had already pulled out a wash cloth and wiped her clean. The traces still burrowed in her mind now.
Jungkook threw the wash cloth away before resting back on the bed again, shutting his eyes for a moment. Both of them catching their breaths and finally dwindling back to their fucked up reality.
“I can’t break this deal.” He murmured looking up at ceiling similar to her. “If I do, I’ll have to kill your brother.”
Belle swallowed the lump in her throat, a small tear spilling from the corner of her eye. “Am I supposed to be your sex toy until you’re done with me?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not allowed to have…sex toys.” Jungkook sighed. “There’s another reason why I changed the deal.”
She finally turned her head to face him, brows furrowing. “What did you not tell me?”
The male took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “My uncle and aunt have been forcing me to get married to someone of their choice. It’s gotten so pressing to a point where they’ve paid them to seduce me so it doesn’t look arranged.” Jungkook explained, running his fingers through his hair before resting on his head on his arm. “My rejections have stopped working. So I thought I should get a courtship with someone I choose before I’ll have to succumb to my uncle and aunts’ wishes.”
Belle could practically hear her own heart slamming out of her ears, more tears burning in her eyes. “So… you just…saw me and decided that you were going to make me your wife?”
“Did you want me to ask for your parents’ blessing or something?”
She averted her gaze back to the ceiling. “My parents are dead.”
“…I didn’t—”
“Of course you didn’t fucking know, we don’t know each other.” Belle inhaled a shaky breath before closing her eyes to calm herself down.
You are a fucking beast.
“Darling I gave you a chance to turn back.”
“So you wouldn’t hurt my brother.”
“Your brother was already dead if he kept going the way he did.” Jungkook winced a little before sighing in frustration. “I told you I’m not trying to be evil. A lot of people look at me when they want to see power. The world I live in chews up people who are too merciful.”
“My brother is innocent.” Belle sobbed lightly, forcefully biting down her bottom lip.
“He’s vulnerable to what I offer. Did you really think he was going to stop taking drugs just because he paid the money?” Jungkooks’ question lingered in the air for a while. “Correction: just because you paid the money.”
“So you want me to be your wife…” She swallowed thickly. “…or you’ll kill my brother.”
“When you say it that way, I do sound evil.” Jungkook pondered. “But yes. Everything else in the deal still stays the same. You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“Except leave you.” Belle corrected.
“Except leave me.” Jungkook confirmed in the most casual fucking tone ever.
Belle did nothing but stay silent and turn to her side, back facing him making the male sigh in slight defeat. She felt his hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly as if it was going to give her any kind of comfort.
“A lot of marriages can be worse than this, you know.” He squeezed it again. “You’re going to have to work with me for this to run a lot smoother, yeah? You did so well today.” Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “I promise it won’t feel so bad after a while.”
She knew now. Kissing the beast didn’t break the curse.
It made one.
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NEXT CHAPTER >>
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positivelyholland · 3 years
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would you write something with chris x teen!daughter reader where she's really sick and he's super worried?
Pairing: Chris Evans x Daughter!reader
genre: hurt/comfort
warnings: sickness, hospitals, mentions of death (but no one actually dies), worried!chris
reader pronouns: she/her
summary: when your case of the flu becomes a lot more serious, chris gets extremely worried
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What’s poking my arm? you thought to yourself. You went down to check your arm, and found you were hooked up to an IV. You looked around, confused, and saw a bright hospital room, with nurses currently checking your heart rate with a rhythmically beating heart monitor.
You try to remember what happened and why you’re in the hospital, but all that came to your head was the memory of the suffering you’ve been going through the past few days, and how you had the worst case of the flu in your life. You were so confused, why am I in the hospital, I wasn’t THAT sick. You looked around to also see your dad who was holding your hand with the most fear-stricken face you’ve ever seen him have.
“Dad?” you tried to talk to him, but your voice was barely a whisper. “What happened? Why am I here?” you started getting nervous, and your voice was full of fear, of which Chris noticed making him need to try to calm you down, although he was the farthest thing from calm.
“Shhhh, don’t worry, Peanut. You’ve been really sick. You passed out from your fever so I decided to take you here, just to get you checked out because it was way too high” he told you.
“Do they know what’s wrong with me yet?” you asked him, referring to your current situation.
“They have a few ideas. They’ve already run some tests and depending on the results of those they might have to do a few more. But don’t worry, it’ll be ok,you’ll be ok” if you weren’t so sick, you probably would’ve picked up on the fact that your dad was trying to convince himself of his own words too, but you were far too tired to hear the concern that overtook him.
Chris really didn’t know if you were going to make it off that hospital bed, neither did the doctors. The thought of losing you absolutely terrified him. You were everything to him. You were his pride and joy, the light of his life. He didn’t know what would happen to you, and that thought scared him sick. He had told his entire extended family to pray for you, and although your family wasn’t very religious, he was desperate. He has even posted on his instagram for you, in the hope to get his fans to pray for you too. He needed you to stay alive.
“Evans” a nurse called out with a knock on the door to your room, which was how they alerted a patient that they were coming into the room.
“That’s us” your dad responded. He glanced over at you, and the state he saw you almost made him cry. You had an IV hooked up to your arm, a tool on your finger to monitor your heart rate, a big thermometer in your arm to make sure your fever didn’t get too high, just to name a few. Any parent seeing their child in a state like this would be heartbroken, and Chris was not exempt from that.
A nurse walked into the room. “We’ve discovered she has a medical condition. It’s not life threatening if you treat it right. Where you guys didn’t know she had it, you weren’t able to treat it. But now that you know, we’ll teach you how to take care of it, and she should be ok” the nurse told him, which was a little relieving for him, but he needed to ask one more question.
“Will she live?” he asked bluntly, and that’s when the tears fell. He had that thought, but saying it out loud is what broke him.
“Yes, she will. Now that we have a diagnosis we’ll be able to treat her, and then she’ll be able to go home with you tomorrow night” Chris felt a giant weight lift off his shoulders. She’s going to live, he thought. He felt so relieved that his daughter wasn’t leaving him, and could go home with him just the next night.
~~~~ The next night ~~~~
You were feeling so much better. The doctors had given you some medicine which helped you go back to being your normal, cheerful self. you were excited because you got to go home tonight. You had been in the hospital for 3 days total, and your dad stayed by your side the whole time.
“You ready, Peanut?” he asked you as he grabbed the bag of stuff he’d been using for himself the past few days.
“Yep, let’s go!” you chirped. You slowly got in your dad’s car and he drove you guys home. You mostly discussed how to take care of your condition properly.
As you arrived back at your house, your dad grabbed your bags from the trunk of the car and opened your car door for you. Although you weren’t extremely sick anymore, your newly-diagnosed condition made it so you couldn’t do everything yourself, meaning he had to help you with a few things. He opened the house door for you, and you walked in. You decided to go take a bath, since you hadn’t in a few days. As you walked up to your bathroom, your dad couldn’t help but shed a few (happy) tears at the sight of seeing you back home and healthy. He was so grateful you won the fight against this sickness. Although it isn’t over, he knew you were strong, and this isn’t a battle you’re going to lose.
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maxwell-grant · 3 years
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You have done an (excelent) post on how to reinvent Batman as a Pulp Hero. Do you think you could do one to Superman as well? Or do you think it is impossible to do this with the progenitor of the Super Hero genre without transforming him in a totaly diferent character?
Well, you saying it as impossible only makes it seem ever more tempting of a challenge, but yes, it is a bit harder. I'm gonna link my Batman post here as a reference point.
Partially because Batman's a franchise I've thought extensively about for a long time in regards to what I like about it or how I'd like to approach if given the opportunity, which is not something I can really say for Superman until more recently the Big Blue to start orbiting my brain. I don't have years worth of redesigns or fan concepts saved on my galleries and files to comb through to pick and choose here, and my experience with Superman as a character is considerably different, in some aspects more deeply personal, and not really something I'd like to go into in this blog, at least not now.
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Part of the reason why it's harder is also because Batman and Superman have very different relationships with their pulp inspirations. Batman was, ostensibly, a pulp character adapted to comics, a dime-a-dozen Shadow knock-off who picked up and played up diverging traits from other characters and gradually ran with them to gradually forge a unique identity. Superman right from the start was rooted in a much stronger conceptual underpinning: the Sci-Fi Superman and Alien Menace who, instead of being a tragic monster or a tyrannical villain, becomes a costumed adventurer and social crusader. Even the name Super-Man was taken from an early story of Siegel and Shuster about a telepathic villain who ends the story lamenting that he should have used his powers for the good of mankind instead of selfishness. I hesitate to call what Siegel and Shuster were doing “subversive” because that term's picked up a real negative connotation, and it's not like Siegel and Shuster were out to upend their influences (they were pulp aficionados themselves), but rather putting a more positive, new spin on them.
Which is why it also becomes a bit harder to do what I did with Batman and align Superman with some of his pulp-esque inspirations, like John Carter, Flash Gordon or Hugo Danner, without just making it "Superman but he's John Carter", "Superman but it's Flash Gordon", and "Iron Munro / Superman but everything sucks" respectively. It's harder to create a character that wouldn't feel reduntant and derivative at best, and actively contradictory to Superman at worst.
I guess if I had to come up with a "Pulp Hero Superman" take I liked, well first of all I'd have to take steps to distance it from the likes of Tom Strong or Al Ewing's Doc Thunder, those two are as good as it gets in regards to Pulp Supermen. I stipulated for Batman a "No Guns, No Murder, No Service" policy partially to distance my takes on Batman from all the "Pulp Batmen" that just add guns and murder and take Batman back to the barest of basics. Likewise, I'm adding a "No Depowered Science Hero" rule here, which means it's a take that's likely going to veer off a lot more into fantasy and probably enough tampering with Clark's character that it does risk becoming a different character.
Frankly I don't think I'm gonna succeed at doing these without just making it a new character entirely, because with Batman you can get away with just upending the character's aesthetic and setting and even origin and still keep it recognizably Bruce Wayne (in fact Batman does that all the time), which isn't really the case with Superman, who needs those to remain recognizably Superman as he goes through internal changes and character shifts. I guess what I'm gonna do here is more taking the building blocks of Superman/Clark Kent and see a couple new ways I can rearrange them to create a Pulp Superman
Perhaps something we can do is to scale back or recontextualize the "superhero" parts without diminishing Superman's role as a superpowered fantasy character.
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One way we can start is by picking on that connection between Superman and the sci-fi supermen/alien monsters of pulps I mentioned earlier and play it up further, to create a Superman who's deeply, deeply alien in a way that no mild-mannered disguise or colorful outfit can really disguise, something so dramatically powerful and alien, that instead you could get tales about the kinds of ensuing changes and ripple effects this has on the world upon the The Super-Man's arrival. And for that I'm gonna have to quote @davidmann95's concept for Joshua Viers' absolutely stunning Superman redesign on the left side of the image above
The red, the goldish-orange and white, the alienness, the angelic, sculpted feeling, the halo, that innocently curious expression: it’s genuinely beautiful. Superman as a redeeming science-angel from beyond our understanding, as much past the uncanny valley of limited human comprehension as a Lovecraftian monster but tuned to the opposite key - you could spend an endless procession of human lifetimes trying and failing to understand this being, but all you’ll ever know for sure is that it is beyond you, and it knows you, and it loves you.
Superdoomsday from Earth 45, healed and transformed into the savior it was originally envisioned as? Some descendant of his, or a future of the man himself? An alien who picked up on a broadcast of Superman from Earth, and so inspired reshaped itself in his image to spread his ‘gospel’ to the stars?
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Alternatively, to come back to Earth a little, many, many pulp characters and series were built off the antics and personalities of real people, celebrities getting their own magazines or serials or fictionalized takes on them, so perhaps one way to make a "pulp" take on Superman would be to emphasize a bit more of Superman's real-world roots, trends that inspired his creation directly or indirectly at the time. The Jewish strongman Sigmund Breibart and Shuster's interest in fitness culture, Harold Lloyd's comic persona, the rising "strongman" film genre in the early 20th century, actors Clark Gable and Kent Taylor that supposedly named his secret identity, Clark Kent being a socially-awkward journalist based of Siegel's own school experiences.
Maybe one start to an authentic Pulp Superman, who would still be Superman, would be to just ask the question "What if Superman was a real person and/or a celebrity, and they started making pulp magazines and serials dedicated to him? What would those look like?". You wouldn't even have to restrict it to just a story set in the 1930s, in fact you could even play around with the rise of new mediums over the decades.
This third one is a little closer to some plans I have for my own take on a Superman character, not necessarily what I would do with Superman proper but one of my ideas for a Superman analogue. Superman's a character I'll always associate strongly with childhood and childhood fantasy, and to tap into that I would emphasize the other end of the fiction that influenced Siegel and Shuster: comic strips, in their case specifically Little Nemo and Popeye.
In my case I would bring additional influences from some of the comic strips I personally grew up reading like Monica's Gang and Calvin and Hobbes, and I already talked a bit about Captain Fray in terms of how he’s a Superman character despite being a villain. I guess you could call this one "What if Superman was a public domain comic strip character, stripped of the importance of being the founding figure of a super popular genre or extended universe, and also was kind of ugly?".
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He's not "Sloth from the Goonies" ugly, I swear I didn't actually have Sloth in mind when typing out this idea, I've never watched that film nor did I know until now that he actually spends the film in a Superman shirt. That's not really what I'm going for. Visually I was thinking of modeling my take on Superman heavily after Hugo from Street Fighter and his inspiration Andre the Giant, to really emphasize the “circus strongman / freak wrestler” aspect of Superman’s inspiration, particularly in regards to how Hugo’s SFIII version strikes a really great balance in making Hugo ugly and both comedic and fearsome in battle, as well as lovable and even a little dopey (without being outright stupid, like his IV self) in his victory animations and endings.
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He's still Superman, he still goes on fantastical adventures to help people, he's still a deeply loving and compassionate soul whose face beams with joy and affection and who's got wonderful eyes and a great smile. It's just that this smile has a couple of mismatched stick-out teeth or some missing ones, and he's got a crooked smile some people take as smug or malicious, he’s got a strongman’s gut instead of a bodybuilder’s abs, his nose is a little busted (maybe he’s had too many crash landings), and his hair is a little wild or greasy, and he doesn't exactly have very good people skills because of how others usually react to him and, y'know, he doesn't get the kind of publicity Superman would get despite doing ostensibly the same things. He’s not deformed, he’s incredibly intelligent and capable, but in comparison to how superheroes are usually allowed to look, he might as well be Bizarro in the public eye.
It becomes a running gag that people tend to assume some nearby fireman or cop was the one who rescued the hundred orphans out of a burning building single-handedly, meanwhile he's getting accosted off-panel by police officers who think he set the building on fire, or think they can bully this weird man dressed funny. He goes to rescue old people in peril and occasionally they yell at him that they don't have any money. He doesn't get asked to lead superhero meetings or teams even though many in the community advocate for just how much he does for the world, he gets censored out of tv broadcasts or group shots (even his face is sometimes pixelated when they do show him), people invite him on talk shows and don't really let him talk or assume they got the wrong guy. He goes to rescue a woman dangling off a building, and then he gets attacked by like three different superhero teams who assume he must have kidnapped the poor damsel. He was the first superhero, he is the strongest of them all still, but he never really gets credit for it, it nor does he even want to. None of this at all stops him or deters him, except for some occasionally funny reactions.
This never really changes for him, he doesn't really earn people's approval nor does he have to, instead the stories, outside of the gags and adventures you’d expect from a comic strip, veer more towards others learning to be less judgmental and him learning ways to better approach people. He isn't any lesser than Superman just because he doesn't look like most people would want him to look and he doesn't have to look like Superman. Really I think we could use more superheroes that don’t look all so uniformly pretty.
Again, probably not a take that would work for Clark proper, but it’s one way I would take a shot at doing Superman with my own
I have other stuff in the works for this character but I'd like to keep them to better work on them for now, but yeah, these are three of my shots at developing a Pulp Superman.
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Alternatively here's a fourth idea that's more pulp than all of these: Join up Nicholas Cage with Panos Cosmatos again, or whatever weird indie director he decides to pair up with next, and let them do whatever the hell they want with Superman. Give us Mandy Superman. Superman vs The Color Out of Space. Superman vs Five Nights at Freddy's. Superman’s quest to find THE LAST PIG OF KRYPTON. Anything goes.
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jungxk · 4 years
Text
just one (viii)
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summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.
notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x
warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.
genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au
wordcount: 8k
tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​
part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x
x
4 years ago
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jimin hated yugyeom.
well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.
"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.
and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"
jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"
"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."
"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."
there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."
"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."
you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."
"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"
you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"
jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."
x
x
x
[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it
[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying
[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook
[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up
[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls
[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear
[you 11:46pm] i hate u
[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????
[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 
jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.
"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"
"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."
"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"
jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"
"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"
"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."
"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."
jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"
yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."
"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."
he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.
"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.
"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.
"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"
jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"
"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."
"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."
"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."
jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.
the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.
by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.
and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?
did he?
jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.
x
x
x
"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"
you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 
you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."
"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"
"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"
seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."
you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"
"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."
you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."
x
x
x
you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.
and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"
your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."
he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."
you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"
"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."
you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"
his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."
you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"
you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-
"...jungkook."
yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"
"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."
he nods politely. "hyung?"
even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."
"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.
you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?
"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.
you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"
"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."
his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"
"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"
"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"
jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."
you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."
"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."
"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.
"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"
"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."
"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"
"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"
"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."
"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"
dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"
"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."
"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"
he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.
"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."
cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.
jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."
"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."
they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.
x
x
x
to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.
jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.
"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"
"not hungry," you grumble against him.
"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"
"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.
jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."
"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"
"oh, i meant you being stupid."
you scoff. "cheers."
"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."
you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."
"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"
"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."
"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"
"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.
"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"
"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"
he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."
"jimin."
he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."
your blood runs cold. "what?"
jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"
"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"
he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."
"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."
"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"
"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"
his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."
suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."
"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.
"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."
suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"
"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."
and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-
you close your eyes. "i can't."
"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."
you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."
he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"
"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."
there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."
"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.
x
x
x
you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.
it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.
"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 
"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"
"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.
taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."
"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."
"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."
you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"
"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."
"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."
"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."
you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"
taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."
you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"
"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."
you try not to scream at him. "how long?"
"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."
"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"
he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."
you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"
"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."
there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.
and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.
taehyung did.
when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-
"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."
"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"
you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 
taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.
it's better than he dreamed. 
"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."
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woozisnoots · 4 years
Note
hiii :D i saw you have the emergency requests open (which is such a good idea omg thank you for this) and lately ive been in a dark place, can you do a post about how to vocal unit would calm you down? thank you!!
(im so sorry if i requested that wrong sjdjdj i tried I promise)
hi bby, dw you requested just fine!! sorry this is so late, i was in a funk myself for a few days as well
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𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙚𝙨
° pairing: jeonghan x reader, joshua x reader, jihoon x reader, seokmin x reader, seungkwan x reader ° genre: fluff, bits of angst ° word count: 1104 ° warning: implications of anxiety and depression  ° a/n: [unedited]
masterlist!
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— jeonghan
generally, jeonghan has a really good sense of people’s emotions. even if you’ve just met a mere few hours ago, he’s able to detect the slightest change in emotion
he’s not much of a talker and he’ll listen if you’re okay talking about it, but the best way he knows how to dissolve a situation is to intervene to get your mind of it
late night car rides are his specialty
“this,” you hesitate, trying to find the right words to say to your newly acquired friend, jeonghan he calls himself, sitting in the driver’s seat. if crying in front of him wasn’t embarrassing enough, you’re not sure how you’d handle being potentially kidnapped. “this isn’t the way to my house.”
“it’s the long way around, don’t worry sweet pea,” jeonghan says gently. “i don’t think you’ve seen this side of town before. enjoy it. helps to cool things off.”
despite only meeting him a mere minutes ago, you can tell the amount of sincerity those words hold and entrusted those in him as you watched the colors of green change in front of you. this once, you would let the incident slide.
— joshua
the absolute wizard at giving advice! (only if you want it of course) 
the type of guy that knows exactly what to say for any given situation 
similar to jeonghan, joshua is a lot more spontaneous than a lot of people may think. so his go to resort if you’re not keen on his advice, is to take you out literally anywhere
you thought you knew every inch of the city, you being very reluctant in going anywhere outside the confinement of your basement despite joshua’s wishes. yet, you have absolutely no idea how he manages to find the most precious, and seemingly bizarre gems hidden between its crevices.
“now look at that,” joshua proudly states, placing both his hands at his hips. “isn’t it pretty?”
you had to give it joshua, it really was. exactly to your liking too, coincidentally enough. nothing like an abandoned wasteland at the core of beaten down railroad tracks filled with old antiques, not-so-fine china, glass, and baseball bats to suit this very occasion. “shall we?”
— jihoon
awkward at first but trust me, jihoon truly does try everything in his power to make you feel better 
he cares for you so deeply that he would do absolutely anything, or at least in theory
(i hate to be so so cliché but) the one thing that he’s certain of and most comfortable with is that he’s able to provide you any form of music that you absolutely love
you never saw or listened to music the same way after meeting jihoon. there’s so much meaning in only a few sets of notes that you could never tell before. and now, it meant more to you than ever before.
you gaze at jihoon’s finger glide across the keyboard, which reminded you of ballet dancers going across the floor with their pointe shoes, subtly precise with a certain grace and powerful emotion. the feeling is lethargic, you feel your eyes start to close in accordance to the notes that slowly fade in a decrescendo.
jihoon’s heart finally rests, watching you return back to ease. though he constantly beats himself up for not being able to detect your feelings sooner, maybe then he could have prevented it. no matter, if he’s able to do this one thing for you, it’s all worth it knowing you’ll be okay.
— seokmin
he gives you the utmost respect for you, your time, and your space
if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. he’ll be your shoulder to lean on. if find yourself ranting out, even if he might not be able to fully wrap around what you’re going through, but he’s there to listen
and one of seokmin’s greatest qualities is his ability to make you laugh and smile no matter what he does!
a few thousand miles away did numbers on you to say the least. while you’re incredibly happy and proud of your boyfriend for touring the country as the lead role in the new broadway production, you missed him terribly. everyday gets harder trying to pick up the phone to call him.
“hey, have you been crying? i can hear it in your voice,” concern lingering around seokmin’s words. you feel the pounding of resentment having to tell him you’ve been crying for possibly no reason at all. “what’s wrong? is there anything i can do?”
your balled fists loosen as you slow your breathing. it wasn’t a matter of what happened. between you two, you were always going to put seokmin first. especially right now, there was no use putting more onto his plate. “no,” you hear your words hauntingly echo back at you. “no, hearing your voice is enough.”
but seokmin knew better than that. “well, if you like it all that much, i can sing for you.”  
— seungkwan
depending on how you’re feeling, he’ll either be all over you, making sure you’re okay. or entirely give you space.
seungkwan is such an emotional person and in situations like this, he has the most empathy towards your current state
either way, all while you’re having a hard time, he’s already thinking of ways or places to take you to make you feel better
you shouldn’t have let seungkwan leave like that. with you pathetically sitting in the bathtub fully clothed like that. not only were you incredibly embarrassed and enthralled, but you knew better that being alone was the last thing to get you out this funk.
your now soaked clothes want to weigh you down in your attempts to stand, causing you to groan as you finally get up on top of your own feet. your movements are unsteady, your arms and legs are wobbly, your breath is shaky, and you were nothing but disoriented. but even with nothing to dry yourself off, you left everything behind just so you could head out the door to find your dearest friend.
upon opening the bathroom door, you yelp at the sight of another figure that emerges in front of you. before you can retreat, the person’s arms wrap around your shoulders with a thick blanket, the warmth suddenly covering your entire body. you lift your head up slightly to uncover this mysterious person, only to meet eyes with a familiar ray of light brown orbs.
you smile as seungkwan steps back to get a better look at you. “if you’re done sulking, i’ve got about $200 i stole from seungcheol to spend so get dressed.”  
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noritoshiikamo · 4 years
Text
this is how you fall in love
pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy
listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels
“you’re a lifesaver.”
kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.
yup, not him.
tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.
kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”
“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”
he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.
their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.
they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.
“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”
bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.
he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.
“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.
he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.
“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”
she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”
“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.
cant come over, busy, ill tell u later
kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.
they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.
tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?
just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.
“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”
“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.
looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.
“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”
“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”
kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.
“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”
their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.
“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”
she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.
that was 3 months ago.
kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.
she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.
kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”
he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.
“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.
“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.
“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”
a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.
he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.
he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.
“for luck,” he grinned.
unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.
he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.
he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.
“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.
“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.
“that’s not fair!”
“apologize first.”
“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”
he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”
“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”
he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.
finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!
the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.
“i love you too.”
nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.
breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.
“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.
he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.
“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”
she has no objection.
135 notes · View notes
7wanderingpaws · 4 years
Text
Mess We Made - fourth/last (m)
Tumblr media
(gif not mine)
Pairing: Baekhyun x reader
Genre: arranged marriage au (not bbh), doctor AU, angst, fluff
Words: 7.5K
WARNINGS: language, mentions of blood, mature content, cheating (not bbh)
Quick A/N: Hiii! Im gonna hide... Ive never written sth like this omg. (pls let me know your thoughts). This is the final part so I feel accomplished I wrote such long chapters in such a short time >< 
tags: @byunfirstlady @blackon @puppyeoliepop @in3vitably3v3​ @mangobaek @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @exortedgoods @gureuma (if you want to be tagged/untagged please reply to this post)
parts: first – second – third -- fourth (last)
masterlist
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Mess We Made, last part
“What the hell did you think you were doing in the hospital?” you attacked him as soon as you arrived home after two days.
Frankly Minheob didn’t come to visit you anymore although you overheard some nurses gossiping that he went several times to the doctor’s office and had a chat with doctor Kim. As much as you wished to know why he would go the great lengths to try to tie you down, you also couldn’t care less as long as he didn’t come and see you.
Minheob frowned at you as he watched you cradle Hayeon. “Do you think I don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
He stepped closer to you and you wanted to move backwards but the baby’s crib was behind you, successfully caging you in. He grinned nastily. “Well, you really are so clueless. As soon as I found out your lover is also in that hospital, I rushed in to get you. You doing miscarriage and daring to cheat on me at the same time?” He scoffed. “That is unheard of.”
Your heart rate sped up at his words. There was no way you cheated on him. Baekhyun did come several times to check up on you, sometimes you even swore he was there while you were sleeping and felt something soft brushing your cheek, but you never did anything more than what a doctor and a patient would do. Did Minheob know about Baekhyun? If he did then how did he find out?
Minheob laughed out loud at your shocked expression, and reached out to caress Hayeon’s hair but you moved her away from his touch. “She is my daughter too, you know.”
“How dare you accuse me of cheating on you,” you muttered sternly, trying to keep your voice down so as not to trigger the baby.
“Well, then let me put you into perspective because the past year you’ve been amazingly oblivious.” He made a dramatic pause and you almost lost all your wits. He took a deep breath and like a snake, licked his lips in mischief. “How many times have you moaned his name when you were coming, huh?” he whispered, carefully watching you from up close. “How many times have you thought it was him instead of me? You were so full of him while in bed with me... What made you ever think I wouldn’t find out that you still kept in touch with him?”
Blood drained from your face and you knew you were done for. And Baekhyun too. Your stupid mistake would bring him into this huge mess that you created again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you dared to lie through gritted teeth and hugged your baby even tighter. “Nor do I care what your twisted mind came up with, Minheob.”
He laughed, stepping away from you. “So this is the way you want to act? I will gladly moan out his name for you, maybe then you would remember?” he asked with a low tone.
You started walking towards the kitchen, deciding to mix the baby formula so that Hayeon could eat. You were not breastfeeding her, you only did so for two weeks before you gave up. Your breasts took too long to bring out the milk and even if they did, it was bloody. Another reason to be miserable. You couldn’t even feed your child.
“Stop pretending you didn’t hear me,” snickered your husband and grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to him.
You gasped, holding Hayeon tighter. “I didn’t cheat on you!”
“I don’t give a fuck whether you did or not! You just stayed in hospital for two days for nothing because he wanted you there!”
When you opened your mouth to retort something, he muttered: “Baekhyun wanted to keep you there for himself, didn’t he? Good way to make use of you,” he snarled. “A woman that lost her child. He could still fuck you over-“
Your hand flew out before you could think twice, landing a stinking slap on Minheob’s face. “Get him out of your filthy mouth,” you muttered lowly, sending him death glares. Minheob was shocked just for a moment before he was about to rebuke, but you beat him to it: “Baekhyun has nothing to do with me. Stop blaming innocent people-“
“I cannot believe you had me fooled! I had his best friend stalked to make sure he wouldn’t make moves on you, the Park Chanyeol kid, and then it was the fucking doctor the whole time!” he shouted but you didn’t flinch, only proudly noted how his cheek was becoming redder with each passing second.
“I never fooled you,” you answered, “it’s you who does the dirty job. Leave Baekhyun alone.”
“I can see how angry you are becoming. Protecting your secret lover.”
“He is not my secret lover.”
“I can see the way you are looking at me right now. You hate even the idea of me saying his name, don’t you? You hate your entire family for making you marry me when you could have him-“
“Enough.”
“But you’re stuck with me and he will most probably find another woman-“
“I said enough!” you screamed loudly, successfully making Hayeon cry in your arms while your husband had a victorious smile on his face. He paused for a moment and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Turning away from you, he said: “Good luck taking care of that weeping machine. It’s annoying. I’ll be out.”
When you heard the door slam, you felt your cheeks burning up with anger while the tears you didn’t know you were keeping in, spilled. Quickly shushing Hayeon, you went over to grab the formula as you originally wanted to, while sniffing.
“C‘mon, Hayeon, don’t cry,” you tried gently but she was relentless.
You didn’t want her to be scarred by the toxic relationship you had with her father. Everyday you tried your best to be good for her and make her happy so that she would grow up well. But having Minheob breathing down your neck was making it hard.
It was almost one hour later, Hayeon still slowly sucking on the milk from her bottle while you had the big TV turned on with a comedy show when the doorbell rang.
Sighing tiredly, you walked over to the intercom to check the camera, and your heartbeat sped up when you noticed Baekhyun’s profile as he was waiting for you to let him in.
What the hell was he doing here? He shouldn’t be here!
Despite your racing thoughts, you let him in and walked over to the doors with Hayeon in your arms. She was tapping on your chest with her small hands as she was looking at you with huge eyes.
You were cooing to her softly, hoping it would ease your nerves. And it did. You didn’t hear Baekhyun approaching, only realizing his presence when he was two meters from you, casually leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms pushed in his dark-blue jeans, and observing you with a warm, gentle smile. It made your heart skip a beat.
“Baekhyun,” you breathed and he lazily stretched his lips before walking over to you, standing a tad too close as he was looking down at your daughter.
“Being a mother really suits you,” he murmured softly, looking up to catch you staring.
Quickly recovering, you blurted: “You shouldn’t be here, Baek. I’m not sure when my husband will be back-“
“He won’t be coming for a while, don’t worry,” he replied calmly.
You frowned. “Did he go after you?” Just the idea made you dizzy with worry.
Baekhyun chuckled, taking in your expression. “No, but he is with doctor Kim.”
You frowned.
“Won’t you let me in?”
“Ah, right,” you stammered and moved aside, letting him in. You weren’t sure you wanted him to see the place you’d been living in with another man that wasn’t him. Baekhyun looked out of place as you followed him to the spacious living room. “Please, sit down. What can I get you?”
He did as you asked and looked at you with expectant eyes. He smiled sheepishly. “This is probably too much but… do you maybe have wine?”
“I do but… aren’t you driving?”
“My brother will come and pick me up. He is nearby doing some business.”
You nodded. “I’ll have a glass with you, too. Just let me put her-“
“I can hold her,” he offered smoothly which made you stop. “Only if you don’t mind. I’ve held quite a few babies,” he grinned proudly.
Smiling, you gladly handed him Hayeon and gave him her little bottle. You realized you were too close because when you glanced up, Baekhyun’s nose almost brushed yours. Pulling away, you turned to go when he asked: “Aren’t you breastfeeding? You shouldn’t drink.”
Preparing two wine glasses, you told him you weren’t. He was silent and when you came out with the glasses and two kinds of bottles he looked up at you holding the options up for him.
“Red,” he said with a smile.
You nodded and poured the both of you a glass and faced him. Humming, you noted: “Being with a baby suits you.”
He smiled knowingly. “Oh, yeah? Well… this one looks a lot like you, to be honest.” He gave a loving caress to Hayeon’s head and you felt your heart squeezing painfully.
“Luckily.” You cleared your throat. “What brings you here?”
Baekhyun cooed at Hayeon a little bit longer before he murmured, catching your eyes. “I was worried… he would do something to you.”
“But you never cared before.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
You bit your lip. “Why is he with doctor Kim again?”
Baekhyun pressed his lips for a moment, thinking over your question. “He is…” he let out a perplexed laugh, as if unsure what to say, “I don’t know how to put it in words.”
Baekhyun earned your full attention now. “What do you mean?”
“He is in love with doctor Kim.”
Your mouth fell open, the news catching you off guard. “H-he what?”
“Shh,” he shushed gently like he always did with you, and nodded towards Hayeon who was drifting off to sleep in his arms. Your heart squeezed painfully once again, the sight was bittersweet. Your child in his arms. “I found out today too. He had been visiting her for a long time. Turns out they have known each other since high school.”
That sounded awfully familiar. “And now he is trying to get her?”
Baekhyun shrugged once and looked down at Hayeon, her eyes peacefully closed but still diligently sucking on the last droplets of milk. “Maybe?”
“And here I thought he went there to stalk me.”
He turned his head towards you. “Does it matter whether he actually wants doctor Kim?” he asked quietly, the unvoiced actual question palpable in his voice. Do you love your husband enough to be hurt that he wants another woman?
“I feel sorry for her,” was your blunt answer. “But if that means he will change I wish he would ditch me.” You looked Baekhyun in the eyes. “I’ve been wanting this whole nightmare to end for two years, Baekhyun. Two years of being completely helpless, not even able to see you properly. I want him to ditch me and I want to be with you.”
He was listening to you carefully, his eyes sometimes drifting to your lips and the way they shaped when you pronounced some words. “If I told you I have someone else…”
Within seconds your eyes burned up in despair. “No, you don’t.”
Without an answer, he was looking at you; observing the way your cheeks became red along with your nose while your eyes were full of unshed tears. You were so beautiful even after miscarriage. You were ethereal in his eyes even though he just made you cry. Now that Baekhyun thought about it, he didn't remember the last time he saw a genuine smile on your face; it was always either a tired, insincere smile or crying. If he only saw you like that, how many times must have you cried when he wasn't there?
“Please don’t tell me you have someone else,” you whispered when he wouldn't answer.
“It's only natural I would find someone else,” he reasoned matter-of-factly but in a gentle tone so as not to upset you.
“And you came here to tell me this?”
Baekhyun was helpless. He knew your jealousy could be blinding, but he thought with time it would simmer down. “I didn't come here to talk about my private life-”
You snorted sarcastically. “Right. Your private life is how we call it now?” You reached out for sleeping Hayeon and took her into your arms. Without a word you walked to the bedroom. In case you would become even more emotional, you didn't want her to wake. You heard Baekhyun shuffling after you, a conflicting gaze following your every more.
He waited by the door, silently watching you putting Hayeon into her crib. With teary eyes, you observed your daughter a little longer, thinking how wrong everything was at that moment before facing your guest.
Baekhyun didn't move when you closed the door behind you, instead he took hold of your wrist to make you look at him. “I'm sorry. It all came out so wrong.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” you said evenly. “It's your private life and it's none of my business. Which means you may go. Now that you made sure I wasn't dying on the bedroom floor - because you really care about my well-being - it's time to leave.”
Baekyhun was slowly losing his patience. “Stop acting so freaking stubborn.”
More tears welled up in your eyes. “You are right. So leave. I want to be alone.”
He sighed when you tried to push his hand away. “Sweethea-” he stopped himself, biting quickly into his lower lip. Your heartbeat sped up but then he murmured your name softly and you deflated again. “I didn't mean I'm in a relationship.”
“Then what did you mean?” you pressed.
“I was with other women while I wasn't with you. That's all,” he replied truthfully. “I haven't been in a relationship ever since you left me.”
“But you slept with other women,” you finished.
He nodded, staring into your eyes with pure honesty. He had his heart on his sleeve for you, and you still couldn't help the boiling feelings of betrayal. Maybe it was because you were still recovering from the happenings of the past three days or maybe it was just the way you would always feel when Baekhyun was with another woman, be it romantically or purely physically.
“I still don't get why you are telling me this. I still don't understand why you had to come here now, out of all the times.”
“I want you back,” he whispered. “Even though it is impossible, I want you back. With everything you are.” Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart restarted its wild beating. “It's so fucking difficult to keep my hands off of you, to not touch you, to not be there for you when I know you don't have anyone else to turn to and share your burdens with. I know your asshole of a husband mistreats you with your entire family helping him out. I'm tired of it and if it means going against all the rules, then so be it.”
Hope was making your eyes come alive, he could see it. Even though they were teary, hope sparked through and Baekhyun felt relieved.
“Are you doing this now because you know Minheob has feelings for another woman?”
He was shocked. “W-what? No, it isn't about it-”
“Yes, you are,” you said, not even listening to him, “you wouldn't have come here if my husband wouldn't be seeing doctor Kim right now. Otherwise-”
“No, wait, listen to me-”
“You wouldn't fight for me if it weren't for-”
He murmured your name in warning. “Listen-”
“I can't believe you-”
“For Christ's sake just listen-”
“Make me.”
Baekhyun was furious. Both of you were staring down each other, both of you hurt and desperate. “Make me listen, Baekhyun,” you said again with a steely voice and he grabbed your face and crashed his lips on yours. You let out a moan, his lips so soft against yours despite the kiss being anything but soft. He cradled your face and you didn't waste time in bringing your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You heard Baekhyun inhale sharply as he sucked on your lower lip before licking it, asking for entrance. He growled when you complied but would fight him for dominance. It was a game of push and pull and he pressed you against the wall next to the bedroom door; the room which you shared with someone that wasn't Baekhyun.
It was thrilling, exciting and you wanted more. Baekhyun tasted much sweeter than you could remember and there wasn't a chance that you'd get enough. When it came to him, it was never enough for you. Thirstily, you pressed your middle to his, causing him to grunt while he sucked on your tongue, his hands on your neck to angle your face for him. You could feel your lips were already swollen but you didn't care. Your hands were buried in his hair, messing it up, pulling on it as you wanted more. More, more, more. You wanted him to devour you, to take you and to never return you.
But it was still Baekhyun. This was unfair to him. And so he was the first one to disattach, pulling away from you slightly to press his forehead against yours while the both of you were panting. You looked at his lips, the way the skin around them was turning a gentle pink, his lips particularly red. God, you loved those lips and how cutely they were shaped.
He caressed your jaw with his thumb, bringing your attention up to his droopy eyes. “I love you,” he confessed.
Your throat went dry for a second. It was like reliving all your happy memories with him all over again. “I love you, too, Baekhyun,” you replied, making sure you were staring into his eyes.
A soft smile spread on his face and he leaned in to kiss you again but stopped just before his lower lip could touch your upper one. “We shouldn't do this, though. You are married, have a baby and it's not right.”
“You already kissed me,” you urged him, not sparing even a heartbeat to think about his words, “it won't make a difference if you do it one more time.” You raised yourself on your tiptoes and kissed him before he could retaliate. He moaned so subtly it almost made your knees buckle. His hands travelled souther, caressing your shoulders before they went to your back where he drew sensual circles, making you feel all sorts of inappropriate things. You dared to bring your hands to the hem of his shirt that was tucked into his jeans and pull it out, wanting to feel his skin under. He let out another moan when he felt your fingertips trailing the outline of his abs- wait, abs?
You pulled away. “Since when are you so ripped?” you breathed which made him chuckle. You lifted his shirt slightly to see that he had a freaking six-pack. Your mouth went agape, but you still felt Baekhyun's hand on the sliver of skin that showed between your jeans and shirt. He didn't dare to go further than that, though.
“Where else can I use my frustrations if not in the gym, hm,” he murmured in a low voice that made your insides squeeze with want.
You rested your head against the wall, looking at him with content. “I caused it all. I'm sorry.”
He sighed and stepped closer, one leg between yours as he cradled your cheek. “I knew from the start it would go like this, you know. Don't apologize.”
“I'm still sorry 'cause I never should have made you go through the things that me and my terrible family did.” You paused for a moment. “Let's start over, together,” you suggested eagerly. “Let's run away.”
Baekhyun took a deep breath. “You know that isn't possible, love.”
“It is,” you insisted, “of course it is. Let's just disappear and not let anyone know.”
“I have to make a living. And I love my job. You need to take care of your daughter as well.”
“So is that a no? Even if I get a divorce and a chance to start over… is that a no?” you asked quietly.
“Look, doctor Kim knows about us. She knows about our relationship because I couldn't focus whenever I knew you were in the clinic. My behavior gave me away and she is a great senior that understood me well. She was the one to tell me to come here and she called your husband over. I'm sure she is lecturing him.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, running his thumb over the naked skin of your hip. “I'm sure with time, we can slowly start over again, hm?” he prompted gently, tapping your skin a few times. “Time is all we need.”
“I have to wait more to have you?” You were being greedy. You knew you were. But you couldn't help yourself.
“We waited a long time for each other,” he breathed, “we can wait a little longer. Doctor Kim will help us.”
“Then kiss me one last time. To seal it,” you demanded. “As a promise that you will come back to me, Baekhyun.”
And Baekhyun did.
///
It had been weeks now that you found out about Minheob having feelings for the kind doctor Kim. You weren't sure if it was because you were aware of it, but Minheob seemed to become less interested in you overall. He didn't call you when you were busy with the shop, he didn't care if you came home a little later, and not once mentioned Baekhyun to you anymore. It was almost as if that argument never happened.
Even though that seemed to get better, you were still sour because Baekhyun kept the contact between you two quite limited even though he said he wanted you. Sometimes you would exchange texts, because you couldn't keep still; your need to know what he was doing, how he was doing and where he was, was stronger.
It could have been frustrating and maybe now you got a taste of how he must have been feeling the entire time after your break-up. You expecting him to be alone and wait for something to happen was so greedy it made you feel embarrassed. Of course he would have found a woman for pleasure.
You weren't disappointed; hurt maybe because you despised any idea of him being with another woman. After all, you wanted to be the only one to know how he was like in bed, how he would treat a woman after the love-making was done.
You groaned gently, the intruding thoughts not doing you any good. Plus, you were on your period. Maybe you shouldn't have thought about it too much. He confirmed he still loved you and that was all that mattered.
It was almost four months later, your relationship and communication with Minheob almost non-existent and Hayeon a curious toddler, when Minheob said a sentence you never thought you would hear:
“I want a divorce.”
You swiveled around from where you were sitting on the carpeted floor, watching over Hayeon while your tablet was sitting in your lap, going through the new lingerie sets that were supposed to arrive anytime soon. With it, finally, the “unlock, bbh” one as well.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he sighed, sitting on the sofa, emotionlessly looking at an ever-bright Hayeon. “I want to divorce you.”
You were silent, carefully thinking over what to reply next. Maybe you didn't seem as shocked to him as he would have expected you to, but he didn't care at that point.
“I am with another woman. And I want to become a better person for her.”
“I see…”
He rolled his eyes. “At least pretend like you're shocked.” “I am, Minheob. You never told me you are seeing someone else.”
“Just like you never told me you are cheating on me with that doctor of yours.”
“I never-” you started, offended, but all too quickly you remembered kissing Baekhyun in that very house. Minheob couldn't have known about that, though. “I didn't cheat on you. Not like that.”
He let out a dishonest laugh and looked away. “Either way, it doesn't matter anymore. I want it to be as soon as possible.”
“What about Hayeon? She is your daughter.” Minheob didn't care about Hayeon, you knew it. He barely ever tried to initiate anything with her, let alone ask if the baby was doing well.
“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, “you couldn't even give me a boy. It had to be a daughter.”
You puckered your lips, trying hard not to pick a fight. “I'm sick and tired of you being a misogynistic prick,” you told him in a calm voice. “She is a healthy child and you should be fucking thankful.” You turned to look at Hayeon who was playing with huge baby-safe lego pieces. “I will raise her to become much more badass than any man ever will.”
“Sure, you will.” He was silent for a while. “I will try better. I will take care of my part on her behalf, of course. And the matter with your family - they are all to stay just as usual.”
Not turning to look at him, you hummed. “Good way to become a better person, Minheob.”
“I'll deal with all the paperwork. Let's get everything settled by next week. Since we both agree on divorce.”
Sudden eagerness ignited your hope to be with Baekhyun much earlier than you anticipated. Just the idea of it made you feel elevated.
“And about this house…”
You turned your head to look at your soon-to-be ex-husband. “I will leave with Hayeon, don't worry.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
///
You headed to Baekhyun's that evening. Packing up the baby bag for Hayeon, you put her in the baby carrier basket once you arrived. You knew his new address but not once you visited. Having Minheob as a husband had its perks after all; you could easily look into the employees' personal records.
Baekhyun lived in an upscale apartment building, typical for families that had money. It made you realize just how much he developed professionally.
Shushing Hayeon, you waited for Baekhyun to open the door and when he did, he still looked surprised, even after letting you in through the intercom. “Hi,” you smiled, “I came to talk.”
Baekhyun took you in, noting the sleeping toddler. “Sure, come in,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping child.
“Sorry for coming unannounced,” you muttered sheepishly, admiring the way he looked in simple grey joggers and a white shirt. 
Baekhyun stopped you from going further into his apartment. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“No,” you smiled softly, “I have some good news.”
Sitting close to each other, you talked for about two hours; about your future. About the current situation and about the way it all evolved. Baekhyun was surprised but you were relieved when you saw his eyes light up with the same hope that it did with yours. For amoment you were worried he wouldn't reciprocate the excitement but when he almost ducked to kiss you, you knew he still felt the same.
Your faces were so close, you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I was thinking about looking for an apartment…” you trailed off. “Maybe somewhere close to yours?”
“Silly,” sighed Baekhyun affectionately, “you'll come straight to my place.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you eyed his lips. “Are you sure? I will have Hayeon with me,” you admitted, not wanting to sound as sad as you actually felt. It made you sound like a bad mother and maybe just a little bit, you were. Hayeon was such a delight of a child, but she was Minheob's. Baekhyun didn't have anything to do with her and even though you loved her, it also made you mad that you didn't have a child with Baekhyun.
“You know I never had anything against Hayeon. She is innocent and too young. She is barely one, sweetheart. She is your child, how can I not love her?”
Baekhyun's words made your eyes snap up to meet his tender ones.
Slowly he lifted his hand, cradling your cheek. “She looks a lot like you, you know?”
You closed your eyes. “You already told me.”
“And I'm saying it again. She is gorgeous. I bet she will grow up into a beautiful lady just like her mother.”
You smiled, shaking your head gently as to not let his hand fall. “Will you help me raise her into a good and loving child?”
“Of course,” he breathed, his thumb wandering to your lower lip. “We will raise her together.”
Your smile grew wider, now opening your eyes. “I love you so much, Baekhyun. You really have no idea how perfect you are, do you?”
He smiled and leaned in, nudging your nose with his. “I would do anything just to see you smile like that again. I want to keep that smile on your face forever, baby.”
Electricity cursed through your veins. You leaned in, wanting to finally overcome the teasing distance between your lips but Baekhyun stopped you. “Hayeon is sleeping here.”
“She will sleep for a while now. She always sleeps the best after a car ride,” you muttered, still eyeing Baekhyun's lips.
He hummed, acknowledging your words. Then he grabbed your hand gently, intertwining your hands and made you stand up. Eagerly, you followed him to his bedroom and once he closed the door, you stared at each other for a moment before the both of you leaned in at the same time. Kissing each other passionately, he walked you towards his bed and sat down, making you straddle him.
You whimpered at the feel of his wandering hands. “You don't mind kissing me now?” you asked, wanting to be sure you weren't doing something that made him feel uncomfortable.
Baekhyun was looking up at you with huge eyes full of lust and love. The raw crave in his eyes was undeniable and it turned you on. “No. I should have just stolen you a long time ago.”
You giggled but he silenced you with another mind-blowing kiss. Letting him touch you everywhere, you found yourself needing air quickly and Baekhyun moved to your cheek, jaw and neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin. Your hands were messing up his before they found the way to his shirt, once again wanting to feel up his abs that contracted under your touch.
“I missed you so much,” groaned Baekhyun when he squeezed your backside as he licked your collarbones before biting. You hissed, but he didn’t stop.
“I missed you much more,” you breathed, closing your eyes in pleasure. “You have no idea how much.”
He hummed and grabbed the v-line of your shirt, yanking it down to show your bra. Hungrily, he attached his lips to the swell of your breast and you moaned loudly, burying your hand in his hair. “I missed these, too,” he muttered, making you chuckle.
When his other hand wandered south to your jeans, you grabbed his hand in alarm.
“B-Baekhyun, I’m on my period,” you breathed shakily, your arousal growing with each touch of his. Because of your stupid monthly issue you wouldn’t be able to enjoy Baekhyun but to your utter shock, he muttered:
“I don’t care.” With that, he hoisted you up in his arms, making you let out a silent squeal as he smiled and brought you to his private bathroom. “Unless you mind,” he added warily.
“No,” you shook your head quickly. “I crave you too much to care.”
The doors closed shut and you were pushed against them, his middle pressed to yours causing you to let out a wanton moan. He wasn’t even inside you but you felt like a bone shattering orgasm was on its way already.
“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he whispered urgently as he sucked on your neck, his other hand supporting you on your backside, and the other wandering inside your shirt.
Your hand was in his hair, grabbing on it, pushing his head into your chest needily. “Jesus, Baek, I need you. No teasing, god.”
This would be a first time for the both of you to be intimate while you were bleeding. As much as it was a little off-putting, neither of you built up the boundaries that seemed to be nonexistent in your relationship.
He grunted as he brought you to the shower stall and gently put you down on your wobbly legs. You were already taking off your shirt and jeans and he was mimicking you, desperate to finally feel each other’s skin. When the both of you were naked, Baekhyun stepped closer to you and reached behind you to turn on the shower.
The first wave had cold water which made you squeal and jump, attacking and hugging Baekhyun to yourself who caught you with a handsome laugh.
“I’ll make you all hot and bothered very soon, princess,” he murmured in your ear, his nose pressed to your hair as you felt his hand caress you over your stomach before he let it slide to your womanhood.
“Baek-“ you started quickly, sudden anxiety eating you away because you were bleeding.
“Shh, no words,” he said and brought his face back to yours, diving in to bite your lower lip. “Just our bodies talking.”
“But-“
“I said,” he pressed and just then he spread your womanhood, his middle finger teasing your lips and the sensitive bud before he quickly let it dive into your hole. Your knees buckled at the sensation and Baekhyun was fast to press you against the wall, letting the water wash away your blood and arousal from his hand.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he grumbled and pushed two fingers inside of you, humming when he watched you open your mouth in an airy moan, your eyes closed in pure ecstasy.
You were panting heavily and when you opened your eyes to look at your lover, you felt like your chest would combust with repressed emotions. You grabbed the back of his head and smashed your lips together, bringing out another pleasurable moan from Baekhyun. The vibration of his chest rang against yours, connecting two wildly beating hearts.
He scissored his fingers inside you, pumped you slowly, in and out, making sure you were well stretched out.
A whimper was what made Baekhyun pull away from the heated kiss. “Do you think you’re ready for me?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes full of affection, desire and lust.
You nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, just get on with it.”
You reached for his member that had stood up proud in the meantime, keeping close eye contact with his owner. “Since we are doing it while I’m on my period, I can feel all of you,” you breathed as you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him again while you wrapped your hand around his shaft, spreading the pre-cum over the tip with your thumb, closely checking your partner for any reaction. “You can come inside of me.”
Baekhyun hissed and followed with a deep groan as his arm slid around your waist bringing you to him so he could rest his head in your neck. He left open-mouthed kisses lazily on your skin and he squeezed your body when you played with his balls. “Fuck!”
Without warning, he pushed your hand away. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his hands already trailing down your sides, his member pressed to your stomach.
“Always.”
“Then jump for me,” he whispered passionately and was fast to catch you, your legs around his waist and your center just on his manhood. “I will fuck your brains out.” He informed you and you could only plead for him to finally move on. And he did. With just his tip at your center had the both of you close your eyes and moan into each other’s mouths before he slowly pushed in.
“Ahh, yes,” you let out and wiggled in his grasp. Baekhyun hissed sharply biting your earlobe when he managed to slide almost all of him in. “Shit your slick.”
Both of you looked down to where you were connected to see the water wash away a chunk of blood. “Ready?” he asked gently. “Tell me immediately if somethings off.”
You smiled at him deliriously and nodded in confirmation.
Baekhyun started with a slow pace, his thrusts careful, making you feel every single inch of his member, every vein and plain. Being on your period made your womanhood extremely sensitive and aware of every single movement inside you which was the reason your forehead fell into his shoulder, a moan after moan leaving your mouth.
He took your passionate reaction as a yes to speed up, and he set a faster, stronger pace, sliding swiftly in and out of you, each fraction sending pleasurable waves through Baekhyun’s body.
“Fuck yes,” he groaned when he slammed harshly into you, aiming for your gspot, sliding you up the wet wall while you arched your back.
“Yes, Baekhyun, right there!” you screamed, the slight cramps in your lower abdomen wonderfully changing into a wave of ecstasy bringing you closer to the edge. 
“I know my woman well,” he hissed, watching your erotic face expressions with hooded eyes as he gave you another powerful thrust. “Only I know all your secret spots.”
“Yes, yes,” you gasped and leaned in, pushing your tongue into his mouth, your teeth clinking in the process as his length kept filling you up, stretching you so well he was touching your cervix. You felt another chunk of blood releasing and Baekhyun panted, your walls starting to pulse around him, telling him you were close. He quickly fumbled with his hand and brought it to your lower lips, massaging sensually with long fingers while he pounded into you, chasing now his own release as well. The buildup was almost unbearable. Just the idea of him taking you would send him to another world and the fact that he truly had you in his arms, you wrapped around him inside and outside made him release spurts and spurts of cum, his panting coming out in high-pitched moans just when you started to milk him.
You screamed loudly and Baekhyun was mouthing at your breasts hungrily, just as he always did when he was releasing. He gave your nipple a bite as he turned his thrusts into lazy hip-rollings, helping the both of you ride out your highs.
The shower was still fully on but it did little to no help to block out the sexual pants both of you were heaving out.
You locked eyes with Baekhyun’s and caught him smiling in satisfaction. “Kiss me,” he muttered and you gladly leaned in, humming when he licked his way inside, meeting your tongue for a small battle for dominance. You pressed against him, pushing his tongue aside, wanting to win but he whimpered and bit you which made you withdraw with a hiss. You separated with a loud smack. “Cheater,” you whispered in disbelief, your lips red and swollen.
“Am I now?” quirked Baekhyun, flirting, and let you down slowly, slipping out of you. He cradled your face and kissed you innocently as if to make up for the ruined kiss, enjoying the touch of your lips as the water was mixing in.
“That was fucking amazing,” you told him in bliss, hugging his neck. You brought his ear close to your mouth. “Let’s do it again.”
“Nobody said we were done, princess.” Baekhyun had a shit-eating grin when he trailed his fingers up your sides and gently groped your breasts that made you sigh in pleasure right away. Your nipples were already hard and aching but his touch made you feel like you were levitating.
“You’re so damn sensitive. Who knew sex during your period would be this much fun? You are so responsive to every single touch of mine,” he murmured sexily as he let the tip of his nose trail your cheek, darting his tongue out to lick on your skin.
You were aroused yet again and begging for him to resolve this issue.
“You aren't leaving my house tonight,” he told you as he brought his head back to look into your eyes. “I'll take care of you.”
///
2 years later
Baekhyun squeezed your hand with a huge smile as you were both sitting on the ground opposite his parents while Hayeon was running around, playing in Baekhyun's childhood room. A room that held so many memories that were dear to you.
“Sweetie, eat a little bit more,” prompted Baekhyun's mother lovingly. “You are bearing a boy. You need to make sure he comes out all sturdy and ready to face this world.”
You giggled, as you caressed your baby bump, Baekhyun joining you.
“She is quite sensitive, mum. I don't want her to throw up everything afterwards,” commented Baekhyun.
He was right. As painless as Hayeon's pregnancy was, this little boy inside of you was making you nauseous 24/7. You found it quite ironic how your family wanted you to bring a boy into the family when you were with Minheob, yet now, when you were with Baekhyun, it was a boy. It was more exciting because Baekhyun did the ultrasound and finding out the gender of your baby had its own magic when he was the doctor.
The past two years, everything was so different yet the same. Living with Baekhyun was perfect despite typical arguments. He was understanding and you were trying to be okay with his busy schedules at the clinic.
Baekhyun wanted you to settle in properly in his house along with Hayeon before you would start a family with him. Being careful in bed was not the most fun for you, as you always wanted to feel everything he could offer, but once the both of you gave each other the green, your life became much more exciting. You were eager to get pregnant with Baekhyun's child. Finally, the old, rusty dreams you had as a teenage girl could come true.
After hearing some rustling, you stood up. “I'm gonna check up on Hayeon,” you said and strolled over to Baekhyun's bedroom. “Hayeon,” you muttered, seeing her going through some old biology books. You laughed. “Out of all the things in this room, this is what caught your attention?” you asked her, and walked over.
“Mama, look!” she pointed at some drawings Baekhyun had in the corner of the page.
“Oh, what is that,” you faked excitement and then you looked properly. Decoding Baekhyun's terrible scribbles, you gasped quietly.
hottest chickkk in the entire school >< and shes mine woow
love is not as bad as guys make it out to be
because i love herrr
“The hell is this?” you murmured, not even noticing Baekhyun standing behind you.
He laughed loudly and you looked up at him in question. “Well, what do you think it is? It's about you, silly,” he said and crouched, hugging you from behind. “Many guys were crazy about you, yet I got you.”
You snorted a laugh. “Sure, half of the school envied me and the other hated me for being who I am,” you said, looking at his side profile.
“Ah, look at you talking and talking instead of kissing your gorgeous husband,” muttered Baekhyun playfully, letting his hands slide over the baby bump. In response, you kissed Baekhyun's cheek.
“No kissing daddy!” Hayeon complained.
Hearing Hayeon calling Baekhyun her father warmed your heart. “I can't kiss daddy?” She didn't respond, instead observing you and Baehyun. “Together?” you tried.
She grinned with her tiny teeth and Baekhyun laughed at her cuteness. “Come over, my little princess,” he opened his left arm, not letting go of you. Hayeon squealed, jumping straight at Baekhyun which made him grunt. Without waiting, she pressed her mouth to Baekhyun's cheek while Baekhyun turned to you with a mischievous glint. He pressed his lips to yours and you smiled widely.
“Love you three so much,” said gently Baekhyun, looking at you and Hayeon while caressing your bump.
“Love you more,” you whispered and stole another kiss before Hayeon could notice.
Even though not everything was perfect, you finally were together as you should have been since the start of the mess. With most of it being resolved, you were excited to face a brand new chapter with Baekhyun and with the family you created with him.
//
.END.
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A/N: Hi! If you read till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH. My first angsty-smutty story phew. I am red and I do need to take a break lol. >< I really hope you liked this story and that you are satisfied with the happy end. ^^ I am satisifed. On this blog I have rarely a bad-ending stories soooo... Yes!
Thank you, pretty please leave a comment (cc) to let me know your thoughts?
See you soon!
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