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azrielbrainrot · 3 months

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, Memory loss, mentions of death

Word Count: 5950

Notes: Sorry for the wait but I had to map things out to answer all the questions I started in the previous chapters (set myself up there) and lack of motivation was kicking my ass. Still, I hope you enjoy!

Part 2 ○ Part 4

You were picking at the food on your plate as Azriel stared at you, looking like he'd rather feed you himself. As hungry as you were, everything was hard to stomach. You tried to tell him as much but had only been met with a scolding, he seemed extremely interested in your health. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was content with watching you even if you never actually gave him anything. It seemed like the spymaster wasn't too preoccupied with the fact that he had caught you stealing from his High Lord.

Following your sudden breakdown, Azriel had managed to calm you down enough, insisting that you didn't talk about anything else until you ate and were ready for it. Your eyes still hurt and were probably puffy from the tears that had flowed not even an hour ago, and your head still ached, even if it didn't come anywhere close to the excruciating pain you felt before.

The same feeling as before still crawled under your skin, the same questions swirling around in your mind, but you managed to find your composure after the ache had transformed into something manageable and the tears had dried. Admittedly, you were a bit scared of prying into your mind and triggering the same reaction as before - it really had felt like your brain was trying to forcefully escape your skull.

You were still trying to make sense of everything, denying that you were missing important information wouldn't help you. There was no way Azriel was confusing you for someone else, not with the way your body reacted to him and the dreams you've had for far longer than you've been here. There was also the problem of you being a prisoner in this room, as nice and attentive as your prison guard has been there has to be a punishment waiting for you.

When your head felt like it was going to burst, you could swear someone else had barged into the room but you couldn't stay focused on it or hear what they were saying through your own desperate screams. You think you saw something red glinting, but didn't even make out anyone's form, your vision was too blurry. You're not even sure how many of them walked through the door. By the time you came to and calmed down it was only you and Azriel in the room again, and all you could feel was his arms around you, grounding you.

You bite down on another small piece of sausage, arranged as if they were meant to feed a child - you hadn't seen him cut them but you know it has to be his work - as you remembered how desperate he sounded in that moment. You're not sure if the soothing words he whispered in your ear were meant for you or for himself, he was just short of begging you to be okay. It was a little embarrassing to think about how fragile he had seen you in that moment but it was even worse remembering how intimately he held you.

Looking up at Azriel, you're not surprised to meet his eyes, they haven't left you for longer than a second, it's like he's scared you'll disappear if he looks away. You can still see the concern swirling in the beautiful hazel.

You had so many questions, knew he had even more, but you weren't sure where to even begin. Any hope of him starting to talk was evaporating faster with every second. He had told you he wouldn't bring anything up until you were ready but you thought he'd at least ask about the robbery, start off easy. You couldn't push your doubts aside any longer, it felt like you were both playing a part, ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Azriel?” His name triggers the same reaction every time you say it. You might have to go to a healer if you survive this, having your heart fluttering so often can't be healthy.

“Yes?” He leans closer letting his wings pull in closer to his body, ready to give you his undivided attention.

You've noticed how his wings move with him and can give you small clues on what he might be feeling sometimes, like a cat's ears, perking up or dropping with his emotions. The same happens with his shadows really, moving towards you when they're interested, like a tail you suppose.

“There's something wrong.” His eyes open wide and he's on his feet before you can even blink, standing over you and reaching out for your hand. That might not have been the best way to start.

“What's wrong?” He holds onto your wrist, feeling for your pulse. “Does it hurt again?”

“No, nothing hurts,” you try to calm him down, cheeks slightly flushed. “I mean this.” You gesture between the two of you, hoping he's aware of the terrified expression on his face. “You're worried about me.” He visibly relaxes at that, understanding you're not physically hurting again.

“Of course, I am.” He sits on the side of the bed, never letting go of your wrist but holding onto it a little softer, drawing circles with his thumb over your skin. You're not even sure if he's doing it on purpose, or if it simply comes naturally.

“Why would you be?” You have an idea of the answer, he's already made it more than clear that he knows you very well. “I thought you'd be guarding me to make sure I didn't escape but you've been taking care of me instead.”

His eyes roam over your desperate face, taking notice of every expression you make. He's probably scared of saying something that will send you into the same state as before, clawing at your head to stop, but you can see how much he wants to tell you, to stop pretending.

“You're my wife,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips right after, like saying the word is enough to make him happy, and looks down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist, running his thumb down the veins to the palm of your hand, loosely holding it instead.

“I don't…” You thought there had to be some sort of romantic relationship between you and him, or the person he thinks you are, but you didn't expect him to say wife. “I've never been married.” You never even thought it would be a possibility with your job.

Him thinking you're his wife definitely answers a lot of questions, mostly the reason why you aren't in a dark dungeon after what you've done to them, but it just opens up a whole other box of chaos.

You set the plate aside, knowing you can't keep any more food down with the way the conversation has to go. You wish you could just crawl into your own bed, in your own home and wait until all of this mess passes. Running a hand down your face, you steel yourself, recognizing you need to get to the bottom of this, not only for your sake but his as well. Whatever was at play here was larger than you could have imagined.

“I don't remember you at all, Azriel,” you admit. He just nods, almost pouting, without looking away from your hand still clutched in his. “But I've dreamt about you.” He perks up at that, surprised eyes darting up to meet yours.

“I dream about you almost every night,” he admits softly, a reddish tint covering the tips of his ears.

“If I'm supposed to be your wife, should I be offended that it's not every night?” The lame joke does nothing to ease your nerves, as you intended, but the blinding smile he rewards you with certainly makes the next words easier to come out.

“What you called me before… that's not my name,” you continue slowly, “My name is Maya.”

“Maya,” he tries it out but the discomfort is obvious on his face. To your surprise, you don't like how it sounds coming from him either, while every other word he utters sounds like honey.

“I know that's my name. I know I'ver never been here or met you before,” you explain, “I know I never married you either. I can account for every year of my life, there are no gaps in my memories. You're not in any of them, neither is this house,” you look into his eyes the whole time, squeezing his hand slightly, wanting him to feel your sincerity, “but there's something wrong.”

He studies your face with an unreadable expression. If this whole situation is hard for you to wrap your head around, you can't imagine what it is like looking in from the outside. The only reason you believed him was because of your body's response to him, but all he can see is a female who looks just like his wife yet doesn't recognize him.

His hand leaves yours as he takes the ring he was wearing off slowly, taking your hand and depositing it on your palm gently.

“What's this?” It's a simple silver ring, worn out from what you assume is years of training and fighting while wearing it. Your heart palpitations come back the longer you study it, you know it.

“My wedding ring,” he almost whispers, “You had yours when…” You look up at him and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, “I don't have it.”

You nod and let it fall on your finger, in place of where your own wedding ring would be. It's too big on you, it would likely be too loose even if you had put it on your thumb, but you almost don't want to take it off. Goosebumps spread all over your body, your heart rate picking up.

“Do you feel anything?”

“I'm not sure I can explain it,” you breathe, not fully understanding the reaction your body has to him.

“Try me,” he insisted.

“Ever since I heard about this mission and stepped foot into this city, it feels like my brain is screaming at me to remember something really important but I can't,” you say, watching the way the wedding band hangs around your finger, “and when I put this ring on just now.” You hold up your hand for him to see, the light catching on it.

You look up at him before continuing, “When I first saw you. When you told me your name. When I… When I stabbed you.” Your eyes travel to his stomach, where an open wound had been just a few hours ago. “I feel a pain in my chest.” It makes itself known again as you think of the way his blood had dripped down your hands. “Holding the ring feels right. Saying your name feels right. But hurting you… didn't.” You take a deep breath in, knowing there's no going back, “So, as insane as this whole situation is, I think I believe you, Azriel.”

The admission lingers in the air as both of you feel its weight. Acknowledging the particular situation you've found yourselves in is only the beginning. Now you must try to understand what happened and how to fix things, if you want that. Part of recognizing what Azriel told you as the truth comes with accepting that some of your life was a lie, and, at this moment, you have no tangible evidence for what is real or not aside from the goosebumps you get when the male in front of you touches you. You don't even know who you truly are.

“If you say I'm your wife then what made me leave?”

“You didn't,” the hesitation is almost tangible in his tone, “I thought you were dead.” Your hand immediately shoots up to your neck, feeling the softened scar under your fingertips. The movement seems to break the dam holding his emotions in check, making everything flow out at once.

“I don't know what happened,” he lets go of you and stands up, running a hand through his hair and pacing around as he explained with an anguished voice, “It was a simple mission. We never found out how exactly but it looked like you were taken by surprise and attacked by bandits. My shadows told me they couldn't sense you so I went to meet you but when I got there all I saw was blood. There was so much blood.”

When he meets your eyes again you can clearly see the tears gathering in them, the pain that still lingers from recalling that moment.

“I looked for you. We all did. We searched in every corner of the world, I sent spies everywhere. We found the bandits and made them talk but when they left your body was still there and your throat was cut.” His wings droop, the bottoms of it touching the floor. Azriel looks defeated. “We thought you were dead. I tried denying it for a while but it came to a point where I couldn't anymore. But now you're here and I- Fuck. I should have kept looking. I shouldn't have given up so easily.”

“Azriel,” you call for him, bringing his attention back to you. The desperation and raw pain in his voice were breaking your heart. “Whatever happened wasn't your fault.”

“I should have found you,” he whispers, completely contrasting with his tone mere moments before.

“You thought I was dead.” The words are hard to form, and you can't linger on them too long. You always knew the injury you suffered was severe, that it had been near miraculous that you survived but finding out there were people out there that truly believed you were dead was chilling. “This whole situation still feels impossible, there's no way you could have known I was still alive.”

He nods at you, but you can clearly see he can't let go of it. The attentiveness and overprotection he's been showing you makes much more sense now. Azriel sits on the chair he has barely left since you were brought to this room. He seems to try to regain his composure, combing back the hair he had tousled and bringing his wings up closer to his body again. But his eyes don't meet yours like before.

You fall back against the headboard, the impact softened by the pillows he fluffled out for you, picking at his wedding ring still on your finger. You feel like you're going insane. Maybe letting the guild find you wouldn't be so bad, at least they'd put you out of your misery. Though it's hard to ignore the fact that they seem to be the ones who put you in this situation, letting you live a lie for almost a century.

“It's been a century since then,” you repeated aloud, “And you still…” Love me? You wanted to say, but that wasn't really you, not for now at least. You don't remember anything of your time together, or about yourself. Maybe the only thing that survived was your body. There's a possibility that the female he loved had actually died, that he'll never fully get her back even if you regain your memories.

“I told you,” the smile you witnessed earlier comes back to his face, even if with only half the prior intensity, “I dream about you almost every night.”

“This doesn't make any sense.” You had moved to sit cross legged over the covers, tired of laying in bed when your body wasn't even hurting. Nibbling on a chocolate cookie the House, who Azriel told you is sort of sentient, gave you.

“I know.” He had calmed down since his outburst, going back to what you assume is closer to his usual demeanor, though he might not always act the same as when his dead wife is sitting across from him. His shadows seemed to have relaxed as well, most of them had left him in favor of swirling around the room like smoke. “When I saw you in the living room, I thought you came back.”

“But I came to rob you instead.”

He lets out a chuckle, “I couldn't have imagined that in my wildest dreams.” His gaze turns a bit more serious before he adds, “my High Lord and High Lady want to speak to you.”

“I figured as much.” You were actually surprised they hadn't shown up yet, the sun was already close to setting. “Did you tell them you think I'm your wife?”

“They know. You and Rhys were friends too.”

The thought that you could be friends with a High Lord is almost laughable, but so was being married to his shadowsinger and yet the fluttering of your heart every time he speaks to you in that deep, soft voice of his doesn't lie.

You think for a bit, remembering the information you had been granted before coming on your mission. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, the most powerful one in history and the bearer of one of the most sought-after and frightening abilities - daemati. It's said his mate, the recently turned fae, Feyre Archeron, shares the same talent.

“Is it true that he's a daemati?” He simply nods, knowing you're following his train of thought.

“You want him to look into my head.”

“He might be able to find out what happened to you,” he nods, “the reason you forgot me, forgot us.”

“And you're sure he'll want to help me after what I did? He looked pretty mad when I saw him last night,” you say as you chew on your lip.

Granting him passage into your mind might be more than a leap of faith. You've found it easy to talk to Azriel, to trust him, but you haven't met anyone else, and can't trust they won't want to hurt you. Azriel seemed to not care much about your initial reason for coming to the court or even what you did to him but you can't expect everyone to feel the same, even if they had been your friends a century ago. And a daemati could break you beyond repair, even just seeing their abilities in action has always left you unsettled.

“Rhys won't hurt you,” he tells you, his face showing he has no doubts about his words.

“It's not like I have much of a choice anyway,” you brush the crumbs off your nightgown, stretching your legs and moving until you are sitting at the edge of the mattress. It brought you closer to him, your knees brushing his, the feeling of the leather feeling oh so familiar against your bare skin, making your next words come out breathier than you wanted them to, “You can call them.”

Something flashes across his tantalizing eyes when he looks down at your bare legs, noting the change in your tone, but it disappears when he looks back at you, nodding softly and letting his eyelids shut as if to level himself. Some of his shadows come back to him and, as his silence prolongs, you realize he must be speaking to them in his mind, calling his High Lord just as you asked.

The pressure in the room changes as soon as he opens his eyes, the air getting harder to breathe. It's not as strong as what you'd felt the night before but the tamed magic is enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and a shiver to run down your spine. You truly hope Azriel is right about them.

Azriel stands just as the door opens to reveal his High Lord followed closely by his mate. His unreadable purple eyes study your stiff form, walking inside the room and letting Feyre close the door behind them. She seems more serene, not showing any obvious hostility towards you but you know not to underestimate the human who freed the fae of Prythian.

You stand when they stop in front of you, not letting fear make you appear weak. If they chose to hold you accountable for your actions you would accept their punishment head on.

The first word out of the High Lord's lips is the same name Azriel had called you before, and the same feeling of deja vu consumes you once more.

“Maya,” you correct. His head tilts to the side briefly, before looking over at Azriel who is watching the scene unfold warily.

“Well Maya,” his eyes meet yours again, “Are you going to explain why I've found you lurking around my house?” The venom was clear in his voice, but you expected as much.

“I was sent here on a mission,” you say as emotionlessly as you can, just like the guild taught you, “I was supposed to find an ancient book with a particular set of runes, it seems it belonged to your grandfather.” You hope the lack of information doesn't make you appear suspicious because it truly is the only thing the guild had deemed enough for you to be able to complete your mission. “Since I failed the mission, they've probably already sent assassins after me, in case I tell you or anyone about them.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” Azriel promises, anger rising at the mention of someone wanting to kill you.

“You were in the wrong place for that,” the High Lord responds after a moment, and watching Azriel's reaction. “The book is in the library under this House.”

“It doesn't matter now.”

“You're right, it doesn't. What I want to know is where you've been all these years and why you attacked my brother.”

The pressure in the room increased again but you could now see it was the result of him trying to hold his power down even though his temper was rising.

“Rhys,” his mate warns, but it falls on deaf ears, his striking eyes never leaving yours.

“I don't remember you or him,” you admit.

“So he's told me.” Rhysand didn't sound too convinced. “You won't mind if I check for myself right?” He barely made it sound like a question but you nod in answer all the same.

Black talons scrape along your mental walls as soon as you give him permission, you lower them for him, pushing everything the guild taught you aside, inviting the enemy straight into your mind. If they could see you now you would definitely be mocked and executed on the spot.

His presence is barely felt in your mind before a sharp pain takes your senses, similar to the one you'd felt before. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands moving to hold your head. Scarred hands are on you immediately, holding you up against a strong body before your knees meet the ground. As the talons retreat from your mind, the pressure lessens and you take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes.

When you manage to blink away the wetness making your vision blurry, you find the High Lord looking at you with wide eyes, remorse clear on his face and his mate holding onto his arm.

“What did you do to her?” Azriel's voice was rough with barely restrained anger.

The High Lord ignores him, looking into your eyes as he explains with a notably softer tone than earlier, “There is something blocking your memories. When I tried to bypass it… It hurt you.”

“What does that mean?” Your voice was scratchy, a dull ache lingering in your head. You lean away from Azriel and sit back on the mattress. No use trying to act tough, you're truly at their mercy.

“It means I can't access your memories for the time being,” the change in his demeanor would give you whiplash if the pain you were feeling gave way long enough for you to focus on anything else, “I've never seen anything like this, there's no way of knowing what it can do to you.”

“I think your memories aren't only being blocked,” he's still speaking directly at you but you can't really wrap your mind around anything at the moment, letting them discuss amongst themselves. “They're being overwritten at the same time.”

“That's why she forgot Azriel but remembers her life at the guild?”

“I've never heard of anything like that,” Azriel's voice sounds further away, you almost want to reach out and pull him back to you.

“Me neither,” the High Lord admits, watching your crouched form warily. “We'll have to ask Amren and research it in the library but it's the only explanation.” You find yourself nodding, even if you don't know Amren you understand the ancient creature might be able to help, if she wants to that is.

“At least your mental walls are still intact. They're the same ones I taught you to build.”

“No, I learned at the guild,” you finally look up at him, sweat still covering your forehead.

“There's still an open channel, like an open door for me to be able to talk to you.” So I can do this. You can't help but jump slightly at the sound of his voice in your mind, and the promise of a smile twitches on his lips. It doesn't go unnoticed that the talons moved a lot more carefully in your mind, almost tenderly.

“You're staying in this house until we can be sure you're not a threat.” His eyes move to Azriel's, an unimpressed look taking over his face at the scowl the shadowsinger sends him. “In the meantime you can fill Azriel in on everything you can about the guild. I want to know if there's a chance they'll try to attack us again.”

“We'll try to find any information on what is blocking your memories and keep you safe from the guild in exchange,” the High Lady adds, “It's a fair trade for both parties.”

You can't tell if she's saying it to convince you or her mate but appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. Also noticing how she omits the biggest reason for this mutual cooperation - the shadowsinger standing by your side.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

His hair was still wet when he started dressing himself, not wanting to leave you waiting for too long, as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't too happy about leaving you with Feyre either. He can tell everyone is still suspicious of you, even after Rhys tried to read into her memories to find nothing, stuck between their memories and stories they heard about you and the image of you stabbing a knife through his stomach.

Azriel knows his High Lady, his friend, wouldn't hurt you, but you're in a complicated situation at the moment and he doesn't want to find out what that guild has taught you to do in cases such as these, doesn't even want to think what Feyre would do to stop you. She didn't know you before, meaning she wouldn't have any reason to hold back if not for his sake - something he knows she wouldn't put above saving Velaris, he would never ask that of her either.

It's hard to accept he doesn't know how you'll react in certain situations, there was a time he knew you better than he knew himself. Now, he can't even begin to understand what you must have been through working for a world known assassin guild.

He'd obviously heard about them before, he wouldn't be a decent Spymaster if he hadn't. There wasn't much information on them, no one knew how large the group even was since there were rumors other groups were actually integrated in the guild. Names for it vary as well.

Even if you hadn't tried to steal from his High Lord, he knows he'll have to try getting as much information about them from you as he can, for his court's sake, and he can only pray you'll give it to him willingly or he'll have to let go of his position.

He doesn't know how you've been able to bear the guilt a job like this brings. As much as you've forgotten, your personality didn't seem to change a lot. You always reminded him of Cassian at times like these, gratuitous killing had never been for you. He hopes you don't have to deal with the torment he had been through in the first decades of working for the former High Lord, his soul had never recovered from everything he'd seen and done during that time.

Noticing his shadows reach up his shoulders, he physically shakes the dark thoughts out of his brain. Everything has been going better than expected, not only did you agree to cooperate but Rhys had given you the benefit of the doubt. You also agreed to have dinner with him so you could talk more.

He just told you he'd be joining you for dinner, omitting how excited, downright giddy, he felt at just the idea. It had been so long since you two shared a meal, talking for hours while enjoying the tasty food the House prepared for you.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been this nervous for an outing, even if it wasn't exactly that - it was simply a trip to one of the House of Wind's guest rooms. Going as far as picking clothes in your favorite colors on him, letting the top buttons on his shirt undone because he knows how much you liked seeing the beginnings of his swirling bargain marks.

All of this could be for nothing, you don't remember him after all, but, he was almost certain your body did in some way and it gave him hope. You calmed down in his arms just as you did a century ago, said his name in the same sweet cadence and never shied away from his touch, from his hands. His shadows told him as much. Sang to him about the way goosebumps rose in your skin at his touch and attentiveness, how your thoughts and intuition warred in his favor. He refused to let his thoughts deter him.

When he gets to the room he sees you and Feyre standing by the dresser, almost wanting to apologize for winnowing in instead of knocking first, but he can't seem to find any words as he sees you've changed as well, ditching the nightgown in favor of a sleeveless dress that went down to your knees. The cobalt blue was as striking against your skin as he remembered, the garment in itself was simple enough yet in his eyes you had never looked so stunning.

Feyre must have been the one to give you the dress, he was only surprised it had taken her so long to meddle in your relationship. If there were any doubts, they were quickly answered when she threw him a knowing smile before excusing herself from the room.

“I'm guessing the blue is supposed to match those gems you wear.”

“Siphons,” he offers, entranced by the way you walk closer to him, the silky fabric moving with your body and giving you an ethereal glow.

“Did I used to do that a lot?”

“Yes.” He observes the way your eyes run over his body, lingering on the unbuttoned shirt. Seems like his old tricks still work. “I always loved seeing you in blue.”

You tilt your head to the side slightly, biting the inside of your lip the way you always did. He tries to stand as still as possible without appearing too awkward, making sure you knew it was alright to do with him anything that crossed your pretty brain. You seem to make up your mind as you walk closer to him.

“Can I see them?” You hold up your palm and he holds his hand over it without hesitation, letting you grab onto his hand to study the glowing siphon. The swirling light shone in your eyes and he can't help but be reminded of the first time you asked him to do the same exact thing shortly after meeting him.

“All Illyrian warriors have them,” he explains, “They're used to help us control our powers.”

“It's beautiful.” He tries not to let his wings twitch as you now hold his hand with both of yours. “I don't think I've seen anything like this before.”

“You have,” he can't help the somber smile that crosses his face. The reminder makes you look away from his hand to watch him, a conflicted expression falling over your pretty face. “You always liked them.”

The abrupt change in the atmosphere has him asking the house to get the room ready for your dinner. Not being able to hide the smile as he watches your amazed expression at the table that pops up beside you, full of delicious looking food and decorated with candlesticks, the faelights around the room dim in favor of the candlelight.

“I only asked for the food,” he admits with a bashful expression. He's glad you can't tell that, aside from the candles, the plates were also some of the fanciest ones. The House was going all out for the two of you.

He uses the grip you had on his hand to guide you to the chair and help you sit before making his way to his own seat, settling down and giving order for the House to serve both of you. Letting himself enjoy every little expression you made as you eat and listening to anything you felt like telling him, also answering all your questions about the House and the food.

He knows this doesn't have the same meaning to you as it does to him, knows that, as much as you don't seem to hate his company, you're more interested in finding out more about the version of you in his memories, trying to make sense of your own identity. It's hard to imagine how this whole thing must feel for you, finding out half of your life was made up and that you forgot such an important part of it. Still, this must be the best night he's had in a century.

You set your elbows on the table and rest your face on your hands, watching him with undivided attention as he tells you about his sparring match with Cassian. Your eyes don't leave his face after he finishes, appearing lost in thought. He lets you gather them, relishing in the comfortable silence. He'd be content with simply watching you for eternity.

You let out a soft sigh and lean back against the chair, closing your eyes for a few seconds before meeting his gaze again.

“What happens if I never remember you, Azriel?” Your voice barely above a whisper.

The question and the uncertainty in your voice as you asked it make him pause. He keeps trying to push back the thought that you won't regain your memories but it seems you were having the same doubts.

Just last week, he wouldn't have believed having you back was even a possibility, so getting your memories back can't be out of reach, it just can't. He was ready to give his life to make it so.

Still, he witnessed how painful it had been for you when Rhys simply tried to access your memories, he'd also told him trying harder, forcefully, could break your mind completely. If their research doesn't go well, if they can't find who did this to you, there might not be another way of bringing your memories back.

But he'd sooner die than live another day without you, whether your memories come back or not.

“I'll make you fall for me again.”

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#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #divider by saradika

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lightwing-s · 3 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.

word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this) warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.

a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.

Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.

It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..

And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.

In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.

At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.

Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.

Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.

He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.

Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.

You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours.

Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.

“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.

You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.

. 8:24 PM

hey, how are you feeling?

. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it . not really kill for it . yk...

🤣

You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.

“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.

“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply.

“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.

“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.

“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”

You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.

“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”

“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”

“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.

Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.

Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.

“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.

“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.

Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”

You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?

“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time

“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.

“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.

Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”

“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.

“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..

“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.

“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.

“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”

“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”

“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.

“I’ll get it done,” you said, following his move. “Eventually.”

Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.

“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.

For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.

Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.

When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.

“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.

Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.

And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.

“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”

Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.

Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?

“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”

Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.

“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”

“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.

He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.

His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.

“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.

“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”

“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”

Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.

Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment.

The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up.

You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.

Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.

You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.

“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.

“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”

“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”

Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.

“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”

“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.

“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”

You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”

“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”

Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.

You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.

“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.

“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.

“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”

Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.

“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working.

Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.

“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”

“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.

“That’s different.”

“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.

“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.

Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.

“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.

“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.

It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.

He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.

You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.

“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”

“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.

“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.

There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.

The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.

“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”

“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.

You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.

He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby.

All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.

“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”

It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.

His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.

You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.

“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.

“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”

Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.

“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.

“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”

Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”

Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”

“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”

Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.

The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.

Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.

You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.

Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.

But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.

Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.

“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with.

Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.

“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”

Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.

“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”

You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly.

What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.

“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”

The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.

You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.

“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”

With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.

“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”

“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.

Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.

“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.

“I better head home.”

“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.

“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.

Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.

“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.

“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.

“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.

“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.

“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you.

Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.

Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”

It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses in the increasingly chilly days of September.

“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.

“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”

You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”

Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.

And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another.

The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant.

“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”

One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time.

At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.

A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.

Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.

You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”

It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on.

“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.

It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.

But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.

All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.

A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.

It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.

Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.

In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.

Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.

“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”

“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.

No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.

“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.

“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”

“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.

“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”

You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.

“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”

“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”

“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”

“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.

“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.

“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”

“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”

“In your room.”

Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.

You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition.

Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.

“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”

His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.

“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.

You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.

Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.

“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”

Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”

“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.

You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”

“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”

“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.

“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.

“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.

The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.

“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”

Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.

“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”

“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”

“Daddy, I-I…”

You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”

His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.

“Get your things and get away from this house.”

You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.

Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.

“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”

“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”

“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”

You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”

Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.

“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”

Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away.

You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.

Great. Just fucking great.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

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majornaxxx · 9 months

Text

Favorite Girl

ღJake Sully x fem human reader

ღ Synopsis: Jake Sully always said you were his favorite girl. When he finally mated with Neytiri, you had become aware of your feelings for him. Now, a year later, you're beginning to think you aren't his favorite girl anymore.

ღ Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI🔞, angst, unfaithful Jake, reader passing out drunk, oral sex, p in v, one sided love

A/n This is by far the HARDEST thing I've ever written and I really hope it doesn't suck LOL the end def fell short, because I didn't know how to end it. This took so damn long.

Exactly one year since the Omaticaya had driven the sky people out.

Exactly one year since Jake Sully, your best friend, had permanently began living in his avatar body and became Olo'eyktan of the clan.

The na'vi celebrated with a feast, music, drink, dancing, any kind of festivities anyone could imagine. The bonfire roared as their tall bodies danced around it, completely dressed in beautiful flowy beaded clothing, and some, not much at all. They yipped and laughed and sang their songs in joy that Eywa continued to keep them safe from the demons that had plagued their forest.

Everybody except for you. Of course, it was not like you weren't happy for the same reasons as everyone else. Tucked away into a corner, completely still as to at least keep some part of your nipples covered as you had donned the traditional clothing of the Na'vi for the occasion. You covered your chest with your arm, looking down and sipping a bit of the drink Jake had brought you a while before. Until now, it had gone untouched.

"Fuck-" You coughed, hitting your chest with your fist as you choked at the burn. Na'vi liquor wasn't something to fuck around and find out with. After a few more mortifyingly loud hacks you quickly set the drink down and sighed. Eyes locked on Jake, you watched him dance with Neytiri. His mate. Mate for life.

A harsh panging in your chest caused your hand to once again pick up the drink and bring it to your lips. It was no secret to you that you harbored feelings for the ex marine, only you hadn't realized until he had been mated with Neytiri. It infuriated you. Neytiri wasn't a bad mate to him, that much you knew, but it didn't stop the jealousy from bubbling in your gut every time you got a glimpse of their domestic life.

As if reading your mind, the pair looked in your direction, Jake whispering something to Neytiri and then beginning to make his way over. As he leaned against the tree behind you, you simply drank your drink and avoided his gaze, ignoring the burning sensation in your throat. "Are you going to spend the whole party standing around? You could come dance with me and Neytiri." He nudged his head in the direction of his mate.

"Nono, I'm alright." You looked up at him, forcing a smile. "I can't exactly keep my nipples covered if I go dance,". Jake looked you over before giving a hearty chuckle. "Is the outfit what you're worried about? You're just fine, nobody is going to judge you. They're less of tops and more like decoration anyway." He brought his own drink to his lips, obviously taking it way better than you had.

"Plus, it looks bad on me when my best friend is the only one not dancing." He snickered. At that you roughly poked his belly, causing him to yelp. Neytiri appeared beside him a moment later and you quickly resumed being very interested in your drink, scanning the rest of the party.

"Do they not know how to dance?" You heard from beside you as Neytiri tried to make that statement known to you at less as possible. Jake shook his head and whispered something back about "moping around" and you shrunk down into yourself, finishing off the last of your cups contents. "I'm alright.." you mumbled. You had no reason to be upset with Neytiri, as she was nothing but friendly and concerned for you, you knew that. But that fact in turn pissed you off even more.

The low booming drums suddenly switched to a much faster tempo than they had been previously, and a type of whimsical horn joined the music. Neytiri let out a gleeful whooping sound and whispered something to Jake before leaning down to your much shorter level. "I must go, but please tell me if I can help. You mean a lot to Jake, and in return you mean a lot to me." The casual display of affection surprised you and you made an involuntary "uhh" noise as she spoke. "If the problem is that you cannot dance, I can teach you." With that, she flashed a grin at you, and bounded off to join the group that was forming beside the fire.

God, you felt like shit. A pit of guilt began forming in your gut and Jake noticed the significant change in your demeanor. "Hey, hey, Y/n what's going on?" He knelt down beside you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." You shrugged out of his grip, wanting nothing more than to not have to talk about it. "Let's go dance." Jake furrowed his brows and his right ear flicked. "Babygirl something is up, come on what's going on?" He rested his hand on one of his thighs. The unexpected nickname caused you to stop momentarily and then shake your head. "I said I'm fine, and I want to go dance." Trying your hardest to get out of this situation.

"Y/n-" "Jake." You interrupted him. "Please, I'm okay." You looked up at him with big eyes, sending him a small smile. "You and Neytiri uh.. cheered me up!" Jake didn't seem to believe that before he sighed, and shook his head as a smile came to his face. "Glad to see you're doing better." He patted your shoulders.

"That's my favorite girl."

As soon as that left his mouth, a quiet strangled noise left your own. You didn't know the last time you heard him tell you that, and it felt like a sucker punch to the gut. You knew for a fact, you weren't his favorite girl.

"Oh goddamn, are you alright?" He leaned down a bit, surprised at your reaction. "Yeah I think I drank too much..-" You stuttered, ignoring the tears pricking at your eyes. "Just need something to wash it down."

Frantically looking around, you grabbed the first thing with a drink in it that looked like water, and immediately regretted chugging it. It was not definitely not water. "Ugh- Fuck!" You coughed. "Woah woah take it easy!" Jake chuckled. "Slow down.."

"I'm fine." You said, pushing Jake to the side and stalking off into the crowd of Na'vi, ignoring the tears sliding down your face. "I want to dance." You needed to get out of there.

"Y/n-!" Ignoring his voice, you lost him in the crowd as best you could, mimicking the dance moves of the figures around you. The music swelled, your chest felt tight, your throat burned and you felt as if you couldn't breathe.

How much had you drank? You'd lost count when you began to sway, the sounds of the instruments reverberating in your chest. Any worry you had about your nipples were completely gone, not caring about whether or not your chest "decoration" stayed in place.

Heart pounding in your chest, you began to wonder where Jake had gone. Where had he left you? The absence of his presence sent a sense of panic down your spine and you stumbled back to what you hoped was the general direction of where you'd come from. "Jake?" You groaned. "Mmph.. Jake..?"

Your hand caught on something and you used that to hold yourself up. You were horribly drunk, and horribly upset. "Jake!" You cried out, tears beginning to slip down your face. Was that him? You thought you saw him, but then suddenly he was all the way across the camp. Legs wobbling, you slowly let go of your leverage, attempting to take a step. The last thing you saw was the ground right by your face before you blacked out.

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Hands gently ran down your sides as Jake held you. Laying bare, next to each other in your shared kelku, arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist. Jake gently kissed up your neck, leaving the occasional bite and kiss behind. Heat pooled in your stomach, making Jake purr in anticipation. He gently rolled you onto your back and tapped your thighs, spreading them eagerly.

You smiled sweetly up at him, and he leaned down to kiss the inside of your thighs, glancing up at you ever so often. "You drive me crazy, Y/n.." He growled, running his tongue up your thigh towards your achingly warm cunt, completely bared to him.

"Fuuck, Jake, stop teasing me!" You whimpered, gently smacking his hands grabbing at the soft flesh on your thighs. "You know I don't like to- ohh..!" You were cut off by him running his large and hot tongue between your folds. Back arched, head and eyes rolling back, you let out a cry of pleasure.

It was so warm and wet, and felt amazing when Jake ran the flat of his tongue over your clit. He was making noises that sounded positively feral, and sent sparks all the way down to your pussy. He reached up, one large hand absolutely engulfing one of your breasts, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

He pointed his tongue and began to make circles over the sensitive bud, roughly pinning your hips down to the bed when you began to thrust your hips upwards. "Down." He commanded, voice deep and rough. He continued his attack on your pussy as you cried out so loudly you thought the entirety of Pandora could hear you. His head was so big between your thighs, and you put your legs over his shoulders to make it more comfortable.

"Fuuuck, Jakeee...!" Whining as your orgasm approached you. So close. He slipped one of his digits inside of you causing you to squeal, pumping it inside of you. "Oh my god," Tears pricked at your eyes, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

"I'm gonna cum, Jake!" Hands frantically looking for something to grab, they landed in Jake's hair. He growled as you began to gently tug. "Then cum, baby.." He panted into your cunt. You were almost there, almost..

ღ

The screeching of a nearby Ikran caused you to stir, slowly blinking and opening your eyes. The sunlight that poured into the room hurt your head, and you groaned and curled up underneath the blanket that had been put over you. Taking a deep breath, your breath hitched and you sat up.

Somebody had slipped a T-shirt on overtop your Na'vi getup. A dark grey oversized RDA Tshirt. Suddenly you became very aware of the nauseous feeling in your stomach as you realized where you were. Jakes kelku. You scrambled to get up and immediately fell onto the floor as a wave of pain and nausea hit you.

"Y/n?" A voice called from a few feet away. Neytiri made her way over and pulled you to your feet, smoothing your shirt and offering you a container of water. "Be careful, you are very fragile. You drank too much." She purred. You weren't exactly in the position to argue, and took the water, the cold easing your sore throat.

"Jake brought you back. You passed out in the middle of the village, he was very worried about you." She sat down on the hammock you'd been laying on. "Is he.. here?" You croaked, smoothing your hair back. "Yes, he's outside with Tuk. She wanted to see you but we felt you were better left undisturbed." Her tail swished behind her.

"oh." Your stomach twisted. Was he angry with you? A part of you didn't particularly want to find out, but you set the water down anyway and slowly, carefully, made your way outside, bare feet sinking into the dirt. Jake and Tuk were sitting down a few feet away, Tuk gleefully weaving a pretty bracelet, while Jake did his own a bit less skillfully.

His ear twitched and he turned to look at you, standing up and hurrying over, much to Tuks dismay. One of his big hands came up and grabbed your face and he knelt down in front of you. "Are you alright?" His face was stern, like the one he used on Lo'ak when he misbehaved. It made you shrink into yourself, and you awkwardly grabbed your arm over your chest. "I'm fine, Jake. I actually came to.. apologize."

He furrowed his brows and frowned. "You just drank a little heavy is all." To that you shook your head. "No, Jake, I'm really sorry." You knew he didn't know what you were apologizing for, but you continued on anyway, guilt brewing in your gut at your own feelings. Neytiri peeked her head out at the two of you.

"Woah, babygirl, hey." Jakes hand dropped to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. You shook your head and looked down at your feet, realizing that this is the most you were ever going to have from him. "I need to go." You said quietly, biting your lip. "Y/n-" "No. I have to go." You looked up at him, moving his arm away. Your hand bumped your face and you realized with a start it was wet, not noticing the tears that had begun to stream down your face.

"I can't be here Jake, I'm sorry." Still facing Jake, you began to stumble away towards the camp exit. "Thank you for-" you tripped and caught yourself, "-helping me.. but I need to get back." You sniffled. He stood, staring down at you with a hurt and concerned expression. Neytiri came beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder and shaking her head. That simple action filled you with dejection and you quickly turned, hurrying yourself back towards the lab.

ღ

The next week was extremely rough, wallowing in your own feelings in your self imposed isolation. You did want to see Jake, you wanted nothing more, but you couldn't. The feelings had gotten so bad that even a thought of Jake would lead you down a rabbit hole of thoughts that made your stomach twist. So, instead, you settled for locking yourself in your quarters.

Sighing and rolling onto your back, you stared up at your ceiling, and then turned your head to look at Jake's RDA shirt on your side table, crumpled up due to the fact that you couldn't bring yourself the strength to get up and fold it. You hadn't spoken to anybody else about what had happened, opting to only ask that you not be bothered, and locking yourself up.

All at once you groaned and reached up to put your hands over your face, closing your eyes. You laid there like that for a moment before sighing, completely defeated. The sound of your door opening caused you to groan once more, sitting up. "Please go away, I want to be alone right now-" Your voice cut off with a start as you realized it was Jake in front of you.

He ducked under the doorway, one hand gripping onto the top, and made his way over to where you sat on your bed. He stared down at you with concern and opened his mouth to say something, before stopping. He waited a moment before finally speaking. "What's going on with you, Y/n?"

"nothing" you snapped, turning away from him. God, this was so not how you wanted him to see you. Thankfully, you'd showered that morning but your bed was messy, an empty food container on your side table. You wore an old pair of cotton panties, faded and misshapen from going through the wash too many times, and an old hoodie that collected lint everytime you washed it.

"Something is wrong. Why are you avoiding me?" He pushed, kneeling in front of you. "You've been acting extremely strange." To that you crossed your arms over your chest. "Nothing is wrong, Jake. Okay?"

"You're so bad at lying to me Y/n. Talk to me." Jake reached towards you and you immediately shrugged away from his touch, causing him to frown. "I can't see you right now, Jake." Your voice came out in a whisper. "Not leaving you alone, what's going on?" He huffed, grabbing your shoulders. "I hate to see my favorite girl upset."

That one statement made your breath hitch in your throat, choking out a sob. He seemed surprised, lifting his hands off of you. "Y/n? What'd I say?" His eyes widened. You immediately leaned into his touch as soon as you lost it, sobbing into his hand, his touch sending sparks down your spine. "I'm sorry Jake.." You sniffled.

"Babygirl you don't need to be sorry.." He pulled you close into a hug, one hand on the back of your head. "I do.. I've been so awful to you." You quietly cried into his shoulder, gripping onto him like he was going to be gone in an instant. "I need you, Jake.. please, I can't be without you. I love you so much, and I can't lose you.."

The babbling that came from your mouth caused Jake to pause, and pull away from you out of surprise. You reached for him again, and he slowly took your hands. "Please tell me I'm still your favorite girl, Jake.." You stared up at him with wide tear stained eyes that caused his ears to flatten against his head. "Of course you are."

"No, no, Jake.." Shaking your head, you leaned into him, and he gently rubbed your back. Pulling away from him, you tried to wipe the tears falling from your eyes to no avail. Jake reached up to move your hands with his own, his grasp on you gentle, and he put both of his hands on your face, his thumbs swiping at below your eyes. "You're my favorite Girl." He said a bit firmer this time.

"Jake-" "Y/n." He interrupted you. "What can I do?" He seemingly couldn't stand to see you upset. "I don't-" You looked down and he gripped the bottom part of your face, forcefully pulling you up to look at him, causing you to squirm. "Tell me." His voice was firm, commanding, and you knew you had to answer him. Jake wasn't going to give up.

The grip on your jaw sent sparks down your stomach and you cursed yourself for the wetness pooling between your legs, crossing them. "Jake.." His name came out in a whisper, causing his cat like ears to perk up and his pupils to noticably dilate, his tail lashing behind him. "Need you, Jake." The statement fell from your lips before you could stop it.

A moment passed before he finally spoke, having you worried you'd royally fucked yourself. "I know, I can smell it on you." He said, leaning in. "Was that what you wanted this whole time? For me to fuck you?"

His change startled you, and your eyes widened. "Tell me, Y/n.." He said. The concept that he could smell your now soaked cunt made you cringe and flush in embarrassment. "Y-Yes..." You finally admitted. "Wasn't so hard to tell me now was it?" He chuckled, letting go of your face. Now on his knees, he leaned in and placed his hands on either side of you, his large arms caging you in against your mattress, causing you to lean back onto your elbows.

His pupils were noticably dilated, ears perked up and tail lashing. You shook your head to his statement and he flashed a small grin. "Good Girl.."

Your thighs pressed together and you whimpered, tears dry and unable to make eye contact with him. He leaned in and nudged your jaw with his nose, making you turn your head away. He licked a slow, agonizing stripe up your neck, causing you to whimper. "My favorite girl.." He nipped your neck, reaching over to slip his fingers under the bottom hem of your shirt with one hand. "If she needs me, I'll have to give her what she wants, him?"

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut as he sucked a large mark onto the side of your neck, slipping his large hand into your bra. He began to squeeze and knead the squishy flesh, humming quietly. He pulled his hand out after a moment and scooped you up, tossing you further up onto your bed. The springs squeaked as he climbed on top of you, and your eyes widened with a start as you realized how drastic the size difference was.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around him as he kissed around your neck and collarbone. A loud ripping noise sounded and you realized with a start he was tearing your hoodie off of you, starting from your collar. Bare tits on display as you hadn't expected to leave, so a bra had been the least of your concerns.

The heat between your legs was unbearable, and you wiggled your hips upwards to try and get a bit of friction, and stuttered as Jake took one breast in his mouth. He suckled and ran his tongue around your nipple. "I was staring that night y'know.." He mumbled, pulling away momentarily. "When you were wearing that cute little outfit. It doesn't hide much.."

Your face flushed as he latched back onto you, his hand trailing down the side of your body gently. Jake stopped at your panties, and looked up at you as a silent question if he had permission. You bucked your hips up at him, and he immediately slid one large finger into your underwear and between your folds.

His finger found your clit, rubbing circles onto the sensitive bud as you sucked in a breath through your teeth. The warmth slowly built up in your belly as you rolled your hips against his hand. "Jake.." You whined, arching your back, your voice breathless. He continued to suck and bite at your tits, his free hand holding himself up.

He finally stood up on his knees above you, tearing your underwear off of you, giving you a view of how hard he was under his loincloth, causing you to gasp. How was he supposed to fit? You wondered, your heart pounding with excitement.

"Jake.. Need you so bad." You whimpered, reaching up for him. He reached down to tear your underwear off, the fabric tearing causing you to yelp. "Impatient." He chuckled, untying his loincloth. His cock was large, bioluminescent freckles trailing up the side and the tip a pretty shade of purple, slightly curved upwards.

You made your way onto your knees, staring down at him wide eyed. Reaching out for his cock, you bit your lip and looked up at him as if to ask for permission. He gently pushed his hips forward and you wrapped your hand around it, marveling at the size difference. Finally, finally, you took him into your mouth, the tip large on your tongue.

It wasn't easy to fit him into your mouth considering how large he was. His cock tasted surprisingly similar to a human cock. Sweeter, maybe? Glancing up at Jake, you ran your tongue up the shaft. He let out a quiet groan and shut his eyes, biting his bottom lip.

Slowly you began to stroke with one hand what you couldn't reach with your mouth. Your tongue massaged the underside of his cock as you took him in and out of your mouth, jaw stretched wide. It took a moment but you finally settled on a slow rhythm. Jake huffed, his tail curling around your waist and his ears pressed down against his head.

You brought your other hand up to stroke him, twisting both hands as you bobbed your head over the tip of his cock and using the mix of spit and precum as lubricant. "Oh Goddamn.." Jake growled, placing a large hand on top of your head. Your movements stuttered, unsure if he wanted you to stop, and in response he pushed your head down, causing you to choke. Tears building up in the corners of your eyes before he quickly let go. "Ah shit I'm sorry-" He said as you pulled off, coughing with both hands still on the instrument.

Quickly catching your breath, you continued your assault on his cock, causing him to hiss and let out a deep growl from his chest. Drool running down your face, mixing with tears. Wide eyes staring up at him. It was the sloppiest blowjob Jake had ever gotten and he was having the time of his life.

His dick began to twitch in your mouth and he quickly pulled away, causing you to whine. "Jakee.." You pouted. "M' not gonna cum yet.. wanna cum in your pussy." He grinned, taking you by surprise by picking you up and flipping you over, putting you down on your back. "I wanna taste first."

His words sent electricity to your belly and you moaned, watching him slide a finger between your soaked folds. You stared, lips slightly parted, as he lowered his head down and put his knees on the floor beside your bed. His pupils grew in size and his ears perked up as he inspected you. Opening your mouth to speak, you were caught off guard as he placed a rough kiss right on your clit, spreading your lips with his fingers and throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Immediately his tongue found your clit, pointing his tongue to circle over it. His tail wrapped around your thigh, you began to whimper as his lips wrapped around your clit. A cry tore from your throat as he suctioned his mouth against you. One finger teasing your entrance as he continued attacking your pussy. Hands found his hair, digging into his locks and holding on for dear life while his free hand found your tits, pinching and poking at your sensitive spots.

He slipped one finger inside of you, the sudden intrusion causing you to yelp and arch your back, pleasure building up in your belly. You tugged one of his braids and he growled into your cunt, wrapping an arm around your thigh and lapping at you more ferociously than before. "Fuck.." He grunted, pumping his fingers in and out of you.

"Oh my god, Jake, it's too much!" Tears slipped down your face as you felt the first warning signs of your orgasm. He laughed, "if this is too much, how are you gonna take my cock?" He slipped another finger inside, the stretch making you whine. "I can take your cock Jake!" You pleaded, hoping to any god out there that he would still fuck you.

The string in your belly snapped, and you cried out as you came against his mouth. Legs stretching out and then wrapping around him, yanking his hair, head thrown back and back arching. His name left your mouth in choked out sobs as Jake continued to suck on and lap at your clit, only stopping when your grip on him loosened. Dazed, you stared at your ceiling, coming down from your orgasm.

A sudden poke at your pussy made you jump and you looked up at him, his cock slipping between your folds. Jake groaned as he felt how warm you were, moving your arms to grab into him and gripping onto your sides. "You can take my cock?" He asked, and you nodded quickly. He began to push inside painfully slowly.

He could have blacked out from how tight you were, and the stretch made you bury your face in his shoulder, making a sound like a wounded animal. "Shh, shh, I know." He grunted, smoothing your hair down with one hand. Finally, he stopped, only able to fit half of his cock inside of you, not like he minded.

He pulled out, slowly and gently pushing himself back in, drawing a long moan from your throat. He was taking it slow, and you knew why, but you couldn't bear it if he didn't fuck you harder soon. "Jake, come on.." You whined. "Fuck me like the warrior you are." Jake looked at you, growling. "But your size-" "Fuck me, Jake."

With that, he sped up exponentially, slamming into you, the sudden change making you cry out. Your hands clawed at his back as he fucked into you, crying and whining loudly as the feeling overwhelmed you. "Fuck, that's it, that's why you're my favorite girl.." He roughly gripped the plush of your sides as he continued pounding you.

"Favorite Girl.." He repeated, groaning as your warmth overwhelmed his senses. Any thoughts of Neytiri fell from your mind as he fucked you like he was yours. "Oh fuck, Jake-" Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his cock hit just the right spot. He suddenly pulled out, flipping you over, and sliding himself back in.

He placed one hand on your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze before bringing it down on you, causing you to squeak. He leaned down to nip and bite at your shoulders, leaving mark after mark in it's wake. He was positively feral, fucking into you like a beast. Your hands gripped the sheets as the springs in your bed squeaked furiously, this being the most action it had seen in years.

His hand reached down to rub circles over your clit and you screamed, your senses being overwhelmed, the feeling too much for you. Molten hot pleasure snapped, pouring from your cunt as you cried out. You could hardly hear yourself as you squirted all over his cock, Jake snickering and slowing himself down. He grunted, and shoved himself back in, stilling as he filled you up.

The room remained silent, the only sound being the two of you panting and out of breath from the events moments prior. Slowly, Jake pulled himself from inside of you, and you fell to your side. The bed dipped as he sat beside you not saying anything. "So.." you started, and he quickly stood up.

You heard a sigh and clothing rustling, making you pick your head up. "you're leaving..?" You asked as he tied his tewng. He remained silent for a moment. "Fuck, Y/n.." He turned to you, his ears flat against his head. "we shouldn't have.. I shouldn't have.." He couldn't find the words. Your heart dropped, guilt rising in your gut, and you quickly grabbed your blanket to cover up, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry I just, I have to go.." Jake sighed. "But-" "Forget about it. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come onto you like that, I just.. I need to leave." He said, quickly exiting the room. You watched the door close, registering what had just happened as your bottom lip quivered.

You'd fucked up, you knew that. Served you right to leave you alone.. still, it didn't stop the stinging in your chest. How could you face Neytiri now? You asked yourself as you pulled yourself out of bed to start a shower, tears beginning to stream down your face. You supposed it couldn't be so bad..

You were still his favorite girl, after all.

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Taglist: @teyamsatan

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar smut #avatar x reader #jake sully #fanfic #jake sully x reader #smut

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sunnytarg · 2 years

Note

How would yandere Maegor, Aegon I, Aemond and Daemon react if they are in love with reader, who is a widow and has a son, they finally marry reader (time jump) they already have their own children with reader but she has favoritism for her son with her first husband (and her other children are sad) (sort of like Viserys was with Rhaenyra), how do you think they would react? I love you, you are the best, kisses 😘

This is my first time writing for Daemon - I’m excited.

Tw: Maegor is a trigger warning in himself, dubcon in Maegor’s part, child murder

Maegor

Maegor had shown incredible patience when it came to his love. He had known he was in love with her the moment he met her but just as he was married, so was she. She seemed happy enough and as much as he wanted her he knew he had to bide his time. Thankfully, it worked because in an uprising against him he was the one that got to remove her husband's head and put it on a pike, and while he told everyone that taking her to his bed and marrying her was just a spoil of war he knew that it was finally the gods giving him what he so desperately wanted.

He wasn’t blind or deaf, he knew his new wife wept every night. She had always been sensitive so he wanted to keep her away from the fighting. Something her dead husband never thought to do. He insisted that she was not to go on walks alone or leave her room without asking a guard that had his permission. As for the son that came from her previous marriage, he let him stay with her. Despite not caring much for the boy it gave her some solace.

It seemed as if every moment he was not busy he was in her chambers with her naked under him as he pumped his cock into her, filling her with his seed. So it didn’t come as much of a surprise that three moons after their marriage a maester had come to tell him that she was with child. He was overjoyed and made sure to double the guards that were to protect her. When she gave birth to a son, his son he was over the moon. Finally, they were not only bound in name but in blood. It didn’t take very long for him to notice that she paid more attention to her other son than to his. At first, he convinced himself that it was simply because their child was an infant and perhaps she found the constant crying tiring.

Once the maester said she was healed, Maegor was quick to bury himself inside of her again. He found it to be different this time, though. He, for the first time, was frustrated with the woman he loved. She could at least try to put an effort into being there for his son. She could try not to weep over her past and she could stop fawning over her eldest child. With each thought, his thrusts became harder and faster until the headboard was hitting the wall so hard that the wood was splitting down the middle. He didn’t care to hear her whimpers as he finished inside her. He came to a resolution, he would give her another child, after all, she couldn’t ignore two of their children.

She became pregnant faster this time and when she gave birth to a little girl nothing changed in her behavior. She still favored her boy. With irritation, Maegor was at a loss for what to do. That was until he went for a walk among the piles he had on the wall and remembered her husband. A few moons after their daughter was born he walked into his wife’s chambers where he was greeted by his little boy, his cooing little girl, and his hysterical wife.

She had cried into his arms, explaining how she didn’t know what happened to her boy “her precious boy” and at those words, Maegor led her out of her chambers and to a window she was never allowed near. When he had her look down she saw her son impaled on several swords beneath them. He didn’t give her much time to think about how it happened. If the boy simply got out and slipped, if Maegor had someone kill him or if Maegor took the one thing that got in the way of the affections his own children were entitled to and got rid of it. She was crying over her precious boy and Maegor pressed her against the wall near the window and lifted her skirts. He didn't ease into her like he would usually, instead he shoved his cock into his wife’s pussy as she wept for her dead son. He would give her another son. One to fill the hole this one left behind and she would be grateful for the children Maegor has given her and the ones he plans to continue to fill her with.

Aegon I (The Conqueror)

Aegon had never intended on taking another wife. He already had two that he loved. That’s why when he and his sisters united Westeros and found themselves in the North he was caught off guard by the beauty of one of the widows. The longer he and his sisters stayed in the North the longer he spent with this widow. He had learned that she was married for less than a year before the winter took her husband from her and she was left with their son to care for.

Before they left Winterfell, he made sure to marry the woman who had captured his attention. He brought her and her son along with them as he and his sisters continued their conquest.

Several years had passed and they had finally united Westeros with himself as their king. He had a son from each of his sisters and several other children from his northern wife. It was only now that the fighting was over and the ruling had begun that he noticed how his sons and daughters from his last wife would run to one of his sisters for affection. The affection that their own mother withheld and gave to her eldest. Her son is from her dead husband.

Aegon was not jealous of the dead. After all, he was alive and had given his wives a home, children, and a hard cock to satisfy them. What he was upset about was that his northern lady clearly did not love his children like her first. Was it because they were his? Did she not love him enough? Was the mere reminder of her life before him so precious that his children had to go without their mother's love?

He could never do it. End the boy's life. He did love his wife after all but her son was almost a man grown and if he could not fend for himself that was his own problem.

They often visited Dragonstone and when they were there he would usually take his children around their home and teach them about dragons. His youngest, a daughter with dark brown hair like her mothers was insistent on seeing her father’s dragon, Balerion. Before he could stop himself he decided to bring the young children to see his dragon as he asked his wife’s eldest son to check on the dragon in the cave farthest away.

When he didn’t return that night for their nightly meal together his wife asked him where her son was to which he only shrugged.

“He is nearly a man grown I’m not surprised he went exploring. Tomorrow if he’s not back we’ll look for him.”

Of course, he neglected to mention that the cave he sent the boy to was the cave of The Cannibal.

Aemond

Aemond marries the woman he loves after the war. She had been at Harrenhal when Aemond had taken it. Aemond had quickly fallen in love with her soon after he put her and her newborn son under his protection. The woman’s husband was nowhere to be found, she believes that he must have died when all of the dragons came but Aemond can only think that he must have abandoned his family. After everything, he has heard of the man from servants and other widows in the castle. The man was a leech and a pest, someone who did not deserve the wife he had.

When the war is over Aemond brings the widow to King’s Landing despite her saying she wanted to stay in the Riverlands, that it was her home and the home of her son. Aemond rose his nose up at that. Why be there when she had the chance to marry a prince and live in luxury in the Red Keep. She learned to stop protesting so much when he made it clear that she was to marry him and that there was no way out of it.

When he saw her walking down the aisle in a dress he had made to befit her new station and not that of the peasant she once was he couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face. He couldn’t care less what the people in court thought of the one-eyed prince. When he thought he saw her smile he was sure she was in love as well. After all, they had endured much together it would be hard not to be in love.

After only a few short years of marriage, the castle was once again filled with children. His new wife gave birth every year to a healthy baby and now she was in bed after giving birth to twins, their sixth and seventh. Aemond loved his children. He loved them more than he thought anyone could love anything. When he tucked them into bed at night or taught his eldest how to hold a sword he wondered how his own father could have been so absent.

Aemond had not realized his wife’s lack of affection for the children they shared together until his mother asked him to have tea with her. The Dowager Queen mentioned how she noticed that his wife seemed to care more about her firstborn than any child she had with Aemond. He only scoffed at the accusation. His wife loved him and their children.

His mother's words refused to leave his head, though. Every time she watched his wife kiss her eldest son's forehead or smile at him he noticed every kiss and smile his own children didn’t receive. He even watched as his little girl, named after his beloved sister, went to their mother and asked for a bedtime story only to be brushed off and to ask a servant. That wasn’t what made his blood boil, though. It was when he walked by his two eldest son's bedrooms and heard them whispering to each other.

“She’ll learn soon enough to stop asking mother for things. The only one who ever gets anything they ask for is her son.”

“We’re her sons, too.”

“Not in the same way he is.”

Aemond left quickly after hearing that. He tried so hard to be there for his own children so that they never had to feel the absence that he felt from his own father. Yet without him knowing they were still feeling the absence only from their mother.

Aemond could only see red as he walked through the halls. He remembered every instance where his wife refused to be a mother to his children. He thought back to when he met her and he remembered how her maternal nature toward her son drew him toward her. She was so kind and caring then.

He blinked at the sudden realization. She knew that was what drew him to her. After he mentioned how he loved how she cared for her son she had always made sure to bring him around when she saw Aemond. When he first took her to bed she mentioned how she wanted Aemond to give her children only for him to see her drinking a tea he saw used an awful lot in King’s Landing. She had used him for protection during the war and he could excuse that but the war was over and now his children were suffering because of her. He resolved to fix this. His children would no longer feel her neglect.

The next morning when he and all of his children sat at the table in his chambers the break their fast it was his daughter, Helaena, who asked where her mother and older brother were. Aemond had only smiled at her and told her that her mother had taken a trip to where she always belonged and her son was sent to be warded off in the Stormlands. His children had assumed he meant that their mother must have gone back to the Riverlands for a visit and after a while, they stopped asking questions. It was as though nothing had changed with her absence.

Aemond, of course, wouldn’t tell his children how he had brought his wife to their uncle who was familiar with the brothels in the cities and told him to find one for his wife. After some time of no one seeing her, he knew she would be presumed dead and he would be free to remarry to someone who would actually love him and his children.

Daemon

Despite Daemon’s hedonistic ways, he had patience when he needed it. So when the woman he loved married some Lannister he bided his time until he could rid his love of her husband. The time came right after she had given birth to a red, small, and screaming son. As The Prince, he was invited on a hunt to celebrate the birth of the healthy babe. It was something he usually would have ignored but he knees a chance when it made itself clear. During the hunt, he made sure to separate from the group shortly with the new father. He was gone quick enough to do what he needed and back soon enough that nobody missed him.

By nightfall, they had all returned to the camp minus the host of the hunt. While search parties were sent out to find the minor lord Daemon chose to stay at the camp with the new mother. The newborn was cradled in her arms as the woman cried on Daemon’s shoulder. He knew she wasn’t stupid. She knew that her husband wasn’t going to return but thankfully she didn’t suspect Daemon of anything.

When the rest of the men returned to the camp, they returned with the dead body of the Lannister he so despised. They said they found him by the creek, amongst the rocks where he must have slipped. While everyone was crowding the body, Daemon suggested that he bring the newly widowed woman and the newborn back home as it had been a long day for both mother and babe. He stayed for two weeks to comfort the widow and pretend to assist in the funeral proceedings. With nothing left the new mother looked at Daemon with tears in her eyes and asked what she should do. Daemon had his reply ready since she married that Lannister but now he only said in a soothing and persuasive voice, “I know it’s soon but you should think of remarrying. You can stay at the Red Keep until then.”

She had only nodded weakly and packed her and her child’s things. Before the sun rose he had the woman he had so longed for on his dragon and heading back to King’s Landing. It was three months before he asked her to marry him, to which he knew she would say yes because there would be no better offer than a Targaryen prince and while she did not love him yet he was sure she would eventually.

Years had passed since their wedding and Daemon was admittedly happy in his marriage. Since their marriage, they had had many children. Less so because he wanted to be a father and more so because when he filled her with his seed he felt as though the bonds that tied her to him tightened.

He wasn’t a fool. He saw how she favored her eldest so over the children she had borne for him. It didn’t bother him, just as long as her affection and love for him never wavered. When her eldest turned eight he suggested that she send him to Casterly Rock to be a ward of the Lannisters. Truthfully, he just wanted the kid out of the way but his wife seemed to believe him when he said it was for his own good. That there was much he would inherit and things he must learn first, things he could only learn from his father's family.

His own children weren’t old enough to be given as wards yet but it didn’t stop him from continuing to fill his wife. On the night that her eldest son was sent away his wife was in tears, weeping for her son from that bore of a Lannister. To take her mind off of it, Daemon took her to their room and fucked his seed into her all night, promising to give her as many sons as she needed to take her mind off of her other.

It was no surprise when she started to swell with another one of his children. She had stopped mentioning her eldest son and when Daemon sent for their eldest child together to live in King’s Landing, his wife didn’t say a word.

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bekaroth-reads · 7 months

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Ascended Astarion x Tav/ reader

Major spoilers ahead!!

[Well, sort of. A bit of an AU for the scene where Astarion turns Tav into his spawn. Sort of where even though Astarion chose to do the ascension ritual, glimmers of his long lost morality claw their way through. Could also be seen as an extension of the actual scene, like after it fades to black or whatever. Just as long as Tav is still alive and he is making them not so. Full discloser, I was watching the 1992 Dracula when I thought of this and sorta, kinda, allota, repurposed/paraphrased some lines from a scene from there. As per usual, I am using you and they pronouns for Tav.]

This was selfish. He knew this was selfish. And, yet, he did not care.

There had been very rare a time that he was never being selfish in one way or another, at least in his mind’s eye. Though the truth of the matter was not so black and white as he was telling himself these nights, once again he did not care. As far as Astarion could understand, after suffering for centuries that this new existence was his reward, his purpose even. After the turmoil, torture, the violations that Cazador had put him through, he had survived- overcame.

Enduring all of the painful pressure of his previous existence, Astarion emerged the brightest diamond glittering in the night. After scraping by in the in the dirt of his own grave, he was now ascending beyond anyone’s comprehension. Though he already thought himself all-powerful from the moment the ritual was finished, there was the pleasant surprise of feeling that power growing day by day.

The hunger for that power and more increased at the same pace if not faster, however. And, while at one point, a young, pale elf would have sworn off the process entirely, the newly matured vampire knew there was one certain way to assure his continued power- spawn.

Though there was still a part of his old self that felt bile rise in his throat at the very thought, as far as Astarion was concerned that old self was truly dead and gone, buried in that graveyard just outside of the city, and who he was now just happened to share a name with the poor sod. Besides, it wasn’t like he was a total monster. Even if he was, nothing he ever did could be worse than what Cazador put him though; he was convinced of that if nothing else.

The thing that seemed to give him pause. Astarion knew in his soul, in the heart of his long-dead, black heart, who he wanted- no- needed to be his first. It couldn’t be anyone else but his dear Tav.

He had been more than patient with you as he let you be sure that all the others in your sordid, little party were actually well off, or rather, as well off as some of them could be. But, he was ready for the next step, and you were willing.

While Astarion was more than proud of his work done freeing himself, he knew that you had aided him greatly. And, something else that he was certain of was that you were his, and he could not bare to lose you. The more mortal you were, the more of a risk there was of that happening. There certainly were plenty of things that could kill, or rather re-kill vampires, however they were fewer a father between. Besides, you would have him there every step of the way. One of the greatest ways to keep you safe was to never take his eyes off of you.

And yet…

Could he really risk putting you through anything remotely akin to what he had gone through?

Once he entered his new, lavish bedchamber, seeing you waiting for him like your whole world started and stopped with his very presence alone, he quickly decided he could. It wouldn’t truly be like what transpired between Cazador and himself. How could it be? Here you were, so ready, so willing. He wasn’t binding you to himself because he wanted to enslave you, not truly. Astarion simply could not think of a life with out his Tav; not any more. He was doing this because he…

This was no time for all of this… this… simply just all of this to be bogging down his mind as well as the mood. He banished the thoughts at least for the moment with a sly grin and hungry eyes as he sauntered over to the place where he had you kneeling before him. He pushed you down as a playful threat and means to lean himself over you. There were words, both of your usual banter, a playful nip or two around your body and then the air filled with the electrifying tension of bracing for what you both knew what was going to happen next.

There was another bite, this time a deep piercing of the skin at your neck. Astarion lingered, indulged in the first gush of your last production of mortal blood for longer than he planned to before sitting up just enough to look you in the eyes again.

“You have given me everything. Thank you.” He almost sang in a sigh before returning to his sanguine ambrosia from where he had opened your veins and punctured your flesh.

As he drank, it became more and more evident that you were fading, the loosening of your hold on him, the stilling of the fingers tracing the scars on his back being a clear signaling…

The scars on his back.

Something that no matter how he might try to distance himself from his old life, no matter how he tried to see them as a symbol of his newly found power, he still couldn’t block out how and why those runes were carved there. And, as if from those runes an elf, a poor young thing that was giving no choice centuries ago cried out in terror, in pain at the sight of himself, no, the monster perusing him now wearing his skin and damning another as he was once damned.

“No!” Astarion cried as he forced himself away from your neck, “I cannot do this to you!” He held your face gently, more gently and less possessively than he had in a long while and whispered, “Not to you, Tav.”

“Please. Do it Astarion. Make me yours. Forever yours.” You pleaded, words fumbling out of your mouth in your delirium, but all of the genuinely earnest.

“To do this is to curse you. Curse you as he cursed me.” Even in raw emotional outbursts, Astarion still couldn’t stand to spit out Cazador’s name, not even once more. “Curse you with me. I-“ Astarion was going to continue the thought, but couldn’t bring himself to. There were still many of his thoughts that he had not and perhaps never would verbally utter to another soul; not even to you.

His eyes soften in a way that you had never seen them before; there were so many emotions swirling behind them. The one that you saw surface the most even in your half-dead haze was guilt. A guilt that seemed to be battling against the animalistic hunger that he had been parading the rest of the night.

“I love you too much to damn you.” He was on the verge of tears, as if part of him didn’t want to fully go though with it anymore, and yet knew it could only fight the rest of him for a few moments more.

It was all the assurance you needed, however. The fact that he loved you was often displayed, but seldom spoken directly. And, if he did indeed love you enough to say so, to give pause no matter what every fiber of his being was telling him to do on the chance that you might regret asking him to embrace you into the life of a vampire spawn, then you knew that he loved you enough- that you loved him enough- that you both would need eternity to even begin showing the extent of it.

“Please.” You whimpered out, and it seemed like all you were feeling was portrayed in the single word as Astarion looked as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and the tension on his brow eased. There was a gentle kiss to the wrist that he had bitten earlier tonight.

As soft as it started, his teeth were quick to follow them once the coppery taste of your blood reawakened the more feral side of him. He did not bite your wrist again, simply used his teeth to scrape off some dried blood while his fangs decorated your skin with welts. One more kiss goodbye to your pulse, and he moved to your neck once more.

“As you wish, pet.” Astarion purred and imbibed once more until you were limp in his arms.

Asterion knew that when you woke again, you would have many questions. One that he would deny even knowing about was his show of weakness tonight. If he was going to procure and rule his domain there was no room for frivolities. Well, there would certainly be plenty of frivolities as he so desired and deserved, but the gentler feelings of life were not among them.

Then again, looking at your still, serine form waiting to start its new un-life, forevermore his, Astarion supposed that there might be a few times where he could make the exception; but only for you. Only for sweet, little Tav. His Tav.

#ascended astarion x reader #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x tav

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buckychristwrites · 11 months

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Could This Be | Chap. Seven | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: Just a lil chapter. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

The last week had been a lot, to say the least.

Work had been average, but it was outside of work that had been hectic. With the bomb Jamie had dropped about the movie premiere, you found yourself in a rush to get a proper outfit. From the details you got from Keeley, it was necessary to dress up, but not necessarily in a completely formal fashion. It took the better part of the week, but you eventually found a dress that you deemed appropriate. It took up a majority of your free time, stressing over this stupid event that you didn’t even really want to go to.

Which brought you to this moment, in the car next to Jamie, on the way to the premiere of a movie that you didn’t even know the title of. All you knew about it was that it centred around European football, which meant many big name players were invited, including all of the AFC Richmond players.

It wasn’t until Jamie gently pulled at your hands that you noticed you were picking at your fingernails.

“Ya alright?”

The sudden contact was only jarring for a brief second, but you were becoming accustomed to the touches from Jamie. From cheek kisses to hand holding, they were all becoming part of the routine when around people, but the consequence of that was that the behaviour bled into the moments alone. So much so, in fact, that you weren’t being as strict with making him follow the rule of letting you know before he touched you. For the most part, though, he still did.

“Just anxious.”

You knew that he knew better. He saw it in the way you flinched when he had told you that many Premier League players, current and former, would be at this movie premiere. He saw it in the panic you had shown all week in regards to the topic. And he could see it now, as you sat tense in the seat. You hadn’t outright said anything about it, but the closer the two of you got to the theatre, the more fear and unease filled your chest.

Your fingers were still tenderly held in his. With your tongue pressed hard into your cheek, you were having a hard time looking at him, opting instead to continue staring out the window.

“Hey.”

Letting out a sigh, you finally looked over at him. Underneath his deep blue blazer was a white button up shirt, the top few buttons undone and the collar looking sloppy. But he looked striking in

It. You knew the whole night would be filled with everyone struggling for his attention.

But in this moment, it was all on you, as he leaned his head forward to make sure you were looking right into his eyes before saying, “It’s me and ya. I won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.” When you didn’t immediately respond, he raised his eyebrows.

You didn’t need him to say it. You already knew that much.

The theatre arrived faster than you were prepared for, and before you knew it, the car came to a complete stop. Through the tinted windows, you could see the crowd of people filling the red carpet with a swarm of cameras, photo and video alike, trying to capture every moment. As the driver climbed out of the car, you felt your heart in your throat. Jamie gave you one last look.

“Ready?” It was a whisper. You nodded.

“I am.”

The door opened, and you were suddenly blinded by the flashing of cameras that flooded the world around you. Once Jamie climbed out of the car, you were then deafened by the screams coming from fans, who were barricaded along the sidelines.

Jamie turned, giving you a loving smile and an outstretched hand. Only for a few seconds did you hesitate before you placed your hand in his and climbed out of the car. A moment was needed for your eyes to adjust, but once you could see again, you allowed yourself to have a proper look around.

Over the years, you had watched many movie premieres on the telly, or online. But being on the red carpet yourself was another experience in itself. The feeling was incredibly surreal. Celebrities that you had watched on the big screen surrounded you. Paparazzi were taking pictures of Jamie, but with you pressed into his side, they were also taking pictures of you. Jamie turned his head so his lips were just millimetres from your ear.

“You gotta smile.”

Without intending to, the words made you laugh. When you turned to look at Jamie, he was laughing as well. The flashes from the cameras were so bright that for a period of time, the only thing you could see was Jamie’s laughing face, eyes like crescent moons.

He led you down the carpet as you tried not to look at any of the video cameras that were following his every move. You kept close to him, the smell of his cologne overpowering everything else. In the near distance, photographers were shouting Jamie’s name, demanding his attention. He continued to walk though, with his hand pressed to the small of your back. An area was set up specifically for posing for photos, and Jamie approached the area to wait.

“Do you want me to wait elsewhere?” You asked him, pointing to the other side. He looked at you like you had grown three heads.

“Why would ya do that?” He asked. You put your hands together.

“So you can get your picture taken…” He waved a hand.

“Oh no,” He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. “You’re taking pictures with me.” The surprise filled your face.

“Why?”

He leaned in close to your ear again before whispering, “Gotta include me girlfriend, yeah?”

Your cheeks grew very hot, and stayed that way up until Jamie and yourself made your way in front of the photo backdrop of the movie logo and other sponsor names. The yelling began immediately, begging Jamie to make specific poses or to turn in their direction. You plastered the best, most natural smile onto your face.

“Jamie! Jamie, over here!”

“Give us a smoulder, Tartt!”

“Can we get one by yourself? Step aside, love!”

“Nope!” Jamie called, that being the only comment he responded to. “She’s not goin’ anywhere. So fuck off.”

He turned to face you, his smile wide. It was hard not to return it. Though you weren’t in love with your photo being taken, it wasn’t as bad in this moment, with him by your side.

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, as they twinkled in the light. God, is he fucking handsome.

“I can go, if you want,” You said quietly. He shook his head.

“I want ya here.”

The warmth in your cheeks deepened. The photographers were long forgotten about, as the two of you opted to continue to look at each other. Jamie’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes dropping down your face.

“Give us a kiss!” A photographer shouted. The other photographers chimed in with the same sentiments.

It must’ve been the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that you were already looking at him, and he was already looking at you, with his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your mouth. But whatever it was, without hesitation, you leaned forward and planted your lips against his. You expected him to recoil, to even pull away, but instead, he brought his hand up to your head, his fingers curling into your hair as his thumb pressed against your cheek.

A chorus of “Oooooooooooo”s came from behind. Jamie smiled against your lips before slowly pulling away. A laugh broke through your mouth as the two of you were swarmed by the other members of AFC Richmond. Sam and Dani grabbed Jamie’s shoulders, excitedly shaking him as Colin, Richard, Isaac, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, Coach Beard, Roy, and Nate Shelley all surrounded the two of you. It was hard to be upset over the ruined moment when you were surrounded by so much excitement and love, but then it dawned on you: the moment you just experienced? It wasn’t real. There was nothing to be upset about.

So why were you so upset about it anyway?

The cameras were really going off now, the yelling even more intense now that there was a whole crowd of people in the shot and not just two. It was hard not to feel slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing, but you smiled anyway.

“First red carpet, yeah?” Isaac asked you, pulling your attention from the cameras. You nodded. His smile only grew wider.

“It’s weird, innit?” Colin asked. It was clear by his expression that he was sensing your discomfort. You let out a laugh at his question.

“Weird is a bit of an understatement.” You felt like you were living someone else’s life. In their shoes, in their dress, on the arm of their man. But you couldn’t very well tell them that, could you?

As the team began to disperse again, a voice called out from behind you.

“Richmond. My friends.”

Your blood ran cold, feet frozen to the ground below them.

Jamie turned when he realised you weren’t with him, a smile still on his face. When he looked at your expression, it instantly vanished.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I have to-” You stammered, your eyes wild as they searched for an exit. When they found a bathroom, you pointed in its direction. “I’ll be-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, the air trapped in your throat as you rushed away. The world around you began to spin, your ears feeling like they were filling with water. You thought you heard someone call your name, but you continued towards the bathroom.

When you entered, you shut the door behind you before throwing the lock. You didn’t even realise how nauseous you were until you were falling in front of the toilet, dry heaving without anything coming up. The pounding in your chest was like a drum. On the other side of the door, you could hear someone knocking loudly, but the panic stopped you from moving.

He’s here.

He’s fucking here.

You knew there was a chance, a high one, that you would see him. But now the moment had arrived, and your mind and body weren’t anywhere near ready.

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe.

Jamie won’t let anything happen to you.

Slowly straightening, you turned to face yourself in the mirror. The tears were streaming down your face, and you were thankful for waterproof mascara and setting spray at this moment. Carefully, you took a paper towel and dabbed at your cheeks until the dampness was gone. The pounding on the door continued, and you could hear Jamie calling your name. Sighing at your reflection, you gave yourself a nod before heading to the door. Shaky fingers unlocked the door before pushing it open.

“What’s happened?” Jamie asked, rounding on you the second you walked through the door. You opened your mouth to speak as his hands reached for you, holding your head on either side as he searched your eyes.

“Jamie-”

“Jamie Tartt.”

You closed your eyes.

Pulling away from you, Jamie turned towards the source of the voice.

“Zava,” He said.

Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the face that had haunted you for over a year. His long hair was pulled back, as it always was, and he was dressed in a cream coloured suit with a white undershirt. His eyes were trained on Jamie, as if he didn’t yet notice the presence next to him. You cowered behind Jamie, trying to remain unseen.

“How are you, my tiny friend?” Zava asked, holding his hand out for Jamie, who stared at it for a moment before taking it in his.

“Don’t recall us bein’ friends, exactly.”

You pressed your lips together at the bluntness of the statement. Everyone in AFC Richmond knew how much Jamie hated Zava, and it was never appreciated by you more than it was at this moment.

“Nice to see ya, mate,” Jamie said, in a clear closing of the conversation, before turning back to you. You watched Zava intently, waiting for him to leave. He turned to walk away, but at the last possible second, his eyes met yours, causing him to pause.

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your entire world felt like it was going up in flames.

Jamie’s expression changed from annoyance to dumbfounded as he turned back to look at Zava. He was forgotten by Zava now, however, as his attention was completely on you.

“You look lovely tonight,” He said quietly, taking a step towards you. Instinct had you taking a step away, your eyes jumping back to Jamie.

“What-” He said quietly, tilting his head further to understand. Lips pressed together in an effort not to cry, you reached forward and took Jamie’s hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. He stared at the contact, subconsciously entwining the fingers as everything came together in his mind.

The transition from confusion to realisation was a painful one to see cross over his face.

Jamie turned to Zava quickly, placing himself directly in front of you, like a shield. His hand, however, was still holding yours.

“Alright, mate,” He said firmly. To anyone who didn’t know Jamie, they wouldn’t hear the anger in his quiet voice. But you did. Part of you was thankful for the public backdrop, or else you wouldn’t know what he would do with it. He began to lead you away, careful to keep himself between you and Zava.

“I’d love to get together sometime,” He called after the two of you, and when you turned, you found his eyes exclusively on you. “For tea. Or dinner, perhaps. To… catch up.” You began to shake your head, but Jamie was faster with the response.

“I don’t think so.”

There wasn’t time for another word to be said, for Jamie turned and walked so quickly down the carpet that you were almost running to keep up with him, mostly in fear of being dragged. He led you inside the building, where people were slowly starting to file in for the start of the movie. Glancing down an empty hall, he pulled you a great distance down and waited a second before turning back to you.

“I’ll kill him.” He sniffed. “Say the word and I’ll kill him.”

There wasn’t an ounce of humour in his voice.

You watched as he ran a hand down his face, before pointing in the direction of the door. His eyes were filled with a fire you had never seen before.

“If that prick eva comes near ya again, I’ll murder him with me bare hands.” He was damn near shouting now, his hands trembling in anger.

You were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with fear, overwhelmed with anxiety, but in this moment, overwhelmed with something else, too.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you brought him back to reality. Back to you. He froze, turning to face you once more. You held eye contact for a second before closing the space between yourself and him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying your head on his shoulder. A few moments passed before his arms snaked around your torso, burying his face into your shoulder. All you could smell was his cologne, and it was keeping you centred.

“Let’s go watch the movie,” You mumbled. He pulled away, still close as he leaned down and placed his forehead against yours.

“We can leave,” He mumbled. You closed your eyes as he grabbed your fingers and ran his own across them. “If you want. I could take you home.” You shook your head lightly against his.

“Let’s stay.”

He nodded, taking your hand and leading you back down the hallway. You felt lighter in this moment, lighter than you had in a long time. For even with a person who you viewed as a threat being so near, you knew you were safe.

The auditorium was filled by the time the two of you had made your way in. So much so that the only seats were in the back. The two of you sat down, looking around anxiously. A few rows ahead, you could make out the Zava’s outline, making you recoil slightly in your seat.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ dated him,” Jamie mumbled, as if reading your mind. “Ain’t he married?”

“Divorced now,” You told him. “After she found out about me, of course.” Though you refused to look at him, you could still feel his stare. Your eyes began to well up again as you wondered how Jamie would react to this news. The idea of him view lesser of you was unbearable.

Instead, he took your hand in his again, filling the space between your fingers with his own. It didn’t feel like an act this time (although, it never really did with him). He brought the topside of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. A flash from the side let you know that someone caught a photo of the moment, but you didn’t turn to confirm it, and neither did he. The lights went out at that moment, the beginning credits starting on the screen. As everyone else applauded in excitement, you turned to face forward, scooting back in your seat and hoping it wasn’t a long one.

It was a long one, unfortunately, for when the credits began to roll and the audience began to applaud, you were being shaken awake by Jamie, your head laying on his shoulder. Disgruntled, you sat up, blindly joining the rest of the crowd as you clapped and hoped that your makeup hadn’t smudged during your accidental nap.

“After party?” Jamie asked as he rose from his seat. Although by his tone, it was clear he already knew your answer. A snort left your mouth as you shook your head.

“If by that you mean me ordering pizza and laying on my couch in my knickers, then yes.”

He pressed his lips together before saying, “Sounds like the kind of after party I’d want to be invited to.”

You didn’t get the chance to respond as you and him got sucked into the crowd exiting the building. He was looking around as if searching for something, finally pulling you in the direction of the bathrooms.

“Be right back,” He said just outside the door, kissing your cheek before disappearing through the bathroom door. You leaned against the wall and watched the people walk by. Celebrities of all statuses passed by without a single glance in your direction. The weirdness of the day fell over you again.

Somewhere amongst the crowd, you heard someone call your name, and when you turned, you saw Dani, Richard, Isaac and Bumbercatch heading towards you. Behind them was Zava, his intense stare making you shrink inside yourself.

“We are going out for drinks and karaoke!” Dani exclaimed excitedly. “Zava’s treat.” You allowed yourself a glance at the retired footballer, before looking back at Dani.

“That sounds fun!” You said, trying not to sound too strained.

“Are you and Tartt comin’?” Richard asked. You inhaled deeply, looking at the bathroom briefly before turning back to him.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll find Jamie.”

They nodded in agreement before wandering off, but it wasn’t lost on you that one of them stayed behind. Zava approached you, making you press your entire body into the wall.

“Please come,” He said in a low voice, his hand reaching up to your cheek. You jerked away, but he still forced his touch against your skin. It began to burn at the contact, and you felt your breathing rate increase. “I am divorced now. We can discuss… us.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m taken,” You said simply, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s over.” He let out a loud laugh.

“You can’t possibly think that Tartt is any sort of upgrade.”

“Compared to you? A soggy lunch sack would be an upgrade.”

The both of you turned to see Roy Kent, standing with fists at his sides. Relief overflowed you. Zava swallowed hard.

“This does not involve you, Kent.” Roy shrugged.

“The problem is, I don’t give a fuck,” He said in his most sarcastic voice. You bit back a smile, so grateful for Roy at this moment. The hand dropped from your face, and you felt like you could breathe again. Zava began rounding on Roy, who tipped his chin up towards him.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to see Jamie, who’s eyes were on Zava. Suddenly, he was once again between the two of you.

“Zava here was just leaving,” Roy said, tilting his head towards the doorway as he narrowed his eyes at Zava. Zava looked back at Jamie, who also had fists at the ready by his sides. Though he didn’t have the height that Zava possessed, you knew who would win in a fight, and with Roy by his side? Zava didn’t stand a chance.

Without another glance in your direction, Zava whipped around and stalked out the door. Roy and Jamie stared in that direction until they were sure he wasn’t coming back.

“Thanks, mate,” Jamie said to Roy, who grunted.

“Wasn’t for you.”

You smiled softly.

“Thank you, Roy.”

He nodded, not saying another word before walking off. Jamie sighed sharply before turning back to you.

“Home?” He asked gently. You took his hand in yours. Part of you considered telling him about the afterparty with the team, but, selfishly, you decided not to.

“Please.”

Before you knew it, you were safe in the backseat of the car. A sigh forced it’s way out of your mouth as you laid back in the seat. All of the evening’s anxieties filled your head as your brain finally forced you to feel them all at once. Tears quietly streamed down your face, your eyes trained on the soft roof of the car.

Seeing him… The way he looked at you…

It was too much.

“Hey,” Jamie whispered when he looked at you, turning to face you. Sniffling, you tried to turn your head away from him, but he hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him. Hand on either side of your head, he wiped your tears away. “You’re alright, love.”

Was it him? Was it you? It was hard to say. But somewhere among the tender moment, you found yourself kissing him. The privacy of the back of the car allowed for more passion, more intensity behind the kiss this time. He pulled you out of the lap belt until you were straddling him in his seat. While your hands were still on his face, his found your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until his fingers were curling around the fabric of the thin thong you wore underneath. Against your thigh, you could feel him grow hard.

The car came to a stop in front of your house, but you barely registered it as your fingers tangled in his hair. He whispered your name against your lips, seeming to pull away, but you desperately leaned forward and caught his mouth against yours once more.

“Stay,” You mumbled between kisses. “Please. Stay."

TAGS

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#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #tedlassosource #ted lasso fanfiction

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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

Text

Did We Miss Something

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☑︎ Pairing: Jake Seresin x Y/n Seresin (Mitchell)

☑︎ Word Count: 9 k

☑︎ Warnings: Infertility, IVF, Adoption, Dad!Jake, Teacher/Mom!Reader, Kindergarteners, bad foster parents, child neglect, protective Rooster, protective Jake

☑︎ A/n: Holy shit, I had the hardest time writing this. Life has not been kind lately in the school sense and health sense, but I still wanted to give you guys something. Anyone thats stayed with me and is still reading (even after this long extent) thank you and I love you!

☑︎Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The sudden weight on your chest stirs you from your slumber, and though the room is dark you make out the little figure clinging on to you. The moonlight just barely lights the room enough for you to clearly see Grayson, well as clearly as sleepy you could see. His hands are clutched to your blanket and the small movement of your hand across his back gets his attention.

“Hi, Sweetpea.” Your voice is groggy though it still causes Gray to nuzzle farther into your chest. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Laine left me, I got cold.” The words take a moment to register, though when they do you sit up faster than you ever have. Gray is still clutched to your chest, though you tighten your hold on him at the possiblity of Laine disapearing. Your eyes adjust and flitter room, Gray shifts in your hold and holds on to you in silence, waiting. Jake still hadn’t woken up, the man could sleep through a tornado, which he had when you visited his parents last year. It wasn’t a fun experience, to say the least. Just as your arm is about to smack him and make him get up with you, you catch sight of a little ball of blonde hair peeking out from under the blanket, laying on his chest.

A sigh leaves your body as the tension in your shoulders drops and you lay back down, contemplating if you wanted to risk Laine waking up when you moved her or if you should just let the both of them sleep in the bed for the night. You pull Gray farther into your chest as he nuzzles at the soft blanket and his small hand holds onto the hand you have wrapped around him.

You realize that neither of them would be going back to the other room tonight and so, you move Gray to get him under the covers with you. He finds the sleeve of your pjs and holds it, thumb rubbing the material as he falls back to sleep. Jake arms move slightly and for a minute you worry that he’s going to squish Laine. But instead, his arms wrap around her, as he rolls onto his side to face you, they’re both still asleep, yet grasp onto each in a near death grip. The small nuzzle she does against Jake chest, just under his chin fills your heart with a kind of love you feared you would never get.

Your eyes trail down to Gray and even after he’s fallen asleep, he holds on to your shirt. You place a kiss to the crown of his head, before checking the clock. 2:30 you still had 4 hours before you had to get up and as you settle back in the bed, you make a mental note to thank Jake for insisting that you needed a King size bed.

...

It’s not a random weight that wakes you up this time, but instead a pair of giggles and Gray quietly telling Laine to stop. Your eyes peel open, Gray is still settled by your side and he gives you a tiny smile before cuddling back into you at the realization that you’re awake. Jake and Laine had shifted again through the night, and she once again rests on his chest. Though as you move, her bright blue eyes flash to you, and give you a small smile, before she goes back to tapping on Jake’s nose.

He'd move every so often and the pair would start laughing. It’s during one of their giggling fits that you see Jake’s eyes open. He gives you a quick wink, before pretending to be asleep again. A smile rests on your face as you glance at the alarm clock, you still had 10 minutes before it would go off. It’s only 6:20 and while you knew the twins were morning birds, you hadn’t realized just how early and yet cheerfully they woke up.

A loud squeal from Laine and the small jump Gray does back into your chest, pulls you from your thought. You look over in time to see Jake grabbing Laine and rolling to lay on top of her. He doesn’t put his whole weight on her, though traps her just enough that she’s stuck under him in a fit of giggles. A look of worry and teasing crosses Jake’s face as he looks at you and Grayson.

“Gray have you seen sissy?”

Gray erupts into a fit of giggles while shaking his head, as Laine tries to wiggle out but can’t manage. Jake’s eyes find your own and you’re sure that your smile matches his.

“Darlin’, have you seen Ms. Madelaine?” You laugh at his overexaggerated reaction, as his eye’s pass over her small form more than once. “I just can seem to find my little darlin’ anywhere.”

“Mr. Jake!” She finally gains Jake’s attention, though upon “realization” of where she is, he starts a massive tickle war between the two.

You laugh at the pair, the both of them are identical rays of sunshine in every sense that would cause someone to assume Jake was Laine’s father. You roll to lay on your back, shifting to pull the blanket up closer to your chest, in hopes to enjoy the last few minutes before your alarm goes off. Your eyes close and when the small form climbs up to lay on your chest and relax with you, you instantly wrap your arms around Gray. Your hand lightly combs through his hair and the small sigh he releases brings you a type of comfort you never knew existed. Your body sinks farther into the bed as Gray’s breath evens out, your own breath slipping in time with his.

You don’t notice as Jake slips from the bed to turn off your alarm and holding onto Laine as he makes his way to the kitchen, leaving the pair of you to get a few more minutes of sleep.

...

Jake slowly makes his way down the hallway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Madelaine leads the way to the kitchen. Her small blonde curls bounce along the way and the excited squeal she gives when Jake asks if she wants pancakes, has his heart clenching and willing to do anything to hear that kind of joy from her every day.

Jake goes about getting the few ingredients, though the sight of Laine trying to watch but not wanting to get in the way, has him picking her up and sitting her on a part of the counter. Close enough that she could see but was also a safe distance from the stove.

“Alright little lady, Gray and CeCe are resting up, which means we have full control of the kitchen.” The smirk and raised eyebrows that Jake gives Laine, has her give him a look that’s nearly identical.

“Does that mean we can make purple pancakes?” Her eyes are hopeful, though a small flash of doubt crosses her face as if she shouldn’t have asked the question in the first place. Her chin dips slightly, though Jake is quick to tip it back up and give her a smile.

“That is exactly what it means, but we also need to make a special color for Gray.”

“Blue, he loves blue!”

Jake shakes his head with a smile at the small nod of confidence she gives him and gets to work mixing up a batch of pancake mix.

...

Laine had somehow found her way onto Jake’s hip; she was still small enough that Jake could easily hold her with one arm while cooking with the other. She had been whispering small requests to him as her head laid on his shoulder. Together they had made almost every shape, with and without chocolate chips.

The soft tune of country music floats through the kitchen as the pair drift around the room, not quite dancing together but close enough. With every sway, dip, or turn Jake did caused Laine to break out into a fit of giggles, face tucked into Jake’s neck as her small arms wrap around him.

“Jakey?” Her small voice piped up over the music.

“Yeah, Sweetheart.”

Her small face pulls away far enough that it causes Jake to stop cooking and look at her, giving her his full undivided attention. A single curl falls in front of her face, though before she can try and move it, Jake does. It causes a small smile to break out on her face before she then brushes a “fallen” strand of hair off Jake’s face as well.

“Have you ever rode a horse; like the cowboys in the song?”

The question has Jake laughing at the small error in tense, while also not expecting the question but positive that she was going to love his answer.

“I have.” He pauses as Laine bounces in excitement, eyes wide with wonder as she takes in every word he says. “I grew up on a big farm, with lots of horses and chickens and cattle, babies and mommas.”

“I wanna go, can we go?”

Jake catches himself, more than ready to tell her yes. To have his mom and dad meet them both, to see them experience everything he did and more as a child. Though the reality comes crashing in like a bucket of cold water, and he can only whisper a small maybe against the back of her head as he hugs her.

“Sissy?”

The sound of Grayson has Madelaine wiggling and slipping from Jake’s hip to nearly crash into Gray as he rounds the corner. Jake catches the sight of Laine adjusting Gray’s glasses, before muttering a quiet sorry for knocking into him.

Jake’s eye’s float up as he sees you coming to rest against the wall behind the twins, Laine grabs Gray’s hand and pulls him to the table and the pile of purple and blue pancakes.

...

The smile that Jake gives you barely reaches his eyes, as he watches the twins. Your quick to find home behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. You sway gently as your hands hold one another and you place a soft kiss against his shirt between his shoulder blades. The music drifts through the kitchen and has the twins wiggling in their seats as they eat. The morning sun shines through the kitchen window and casts them both is a glowing light that almost feels like a call from the universe.

Jake turns in your hold, ducking down to give you a kiss before you have a chance to ask why it looks like he wants to cry. The round of giggles that break out causes you and Jake to separate, to find both Laine and Gray making kissy faces at you. The pair go back to eating while Jake flips off the stove and leans back on the counter holding you.

“He’s never that expressive,” an overwhelming sigh rolls through your body as you sink farther into Jake’s hold. “not even at the school with just Laine and I.”

Jake hums against the curve of your neck, placing a gentle kiss against it. His voice is barely a whisper against your neck, though you can hear the pain coated words perfectly.

“I forgot for a minute, just before you came in.” It’s your turn to hum, a wordless way of telling him to go on. “Laine asked me if I had ever ridden a horse, and when I told her yes, oh baby, her smile was the sweetest thing I’d even seen.”

“They do have the sweetest smiles.” Your voice holds a lightness that eases the tension in Jake’s shoulders. “I told her about Mom and Dad’s place, and when she said she wanted to go, I damn near promised that we would.”

His voice catches and has you turning your head to look up at him, you place a gentle kiss on his jawline, before whispering a small I know. Neither of you needed to say how much the reality of getting to be with the twins for only the weekend rocked you to your cores. They had only been with you for a night and yet somehow it felt like they had been here forever.

Your hands trace along Jake’s arms, before looking up at the clock. You needed to go to the school prior to heading to base, just to make sure that everyone knew where they were going and to get a head count.

“Alright you two, we need to get dressed so we aren’t late.” You get small nods in reply as they both place their plates in the sink and come to stand in front of you and Jake. Your hand racks through Laine’s hair, the bundle of blonde curls a mess atop her head.

“Come on sweet girl, let’s go fix your hair before we get dressed.” Laine grabs your hand, and you give hers a small squeeze before you head to your bathroom. You glance back as you make your way to the hallway to check on Gray, though Jake’s already got him lifted up as the pair talk.

...

You had done two small buns in Laine’s hair per her request, before doing your own hair and makeup. She was entranced by you as you put on a coat of lipstick, before giving her a smile.

“You’re pretty.”

Your heart swells at her words and the childlike whisper they hold. You gently raise your hand and brush it across her cheek, before delicately booping her nose and earning you a giggle.

“I think you’re pretty.”

Your words have her shyly smiling and cause you to lift her chin, to place a small kiss on the crown of her head. Her hands twist the tulle of her pink skirt; the baby pink is a harsh contrast against the navy-blue shirt she has on. Though she had insisted on wearing it, and you couldn’t say no. Plus you were excited to see Jake’s face when he realized that the shirt, was in fact, the one that he had boughten all those weeks ago. How she had snuck hers and Gray’s shirts into her bag was beyond you, though you didn’t care to question it.

Her legs wiggle on the bathroom counter as you put away the few elastics and hairbrush before you grasp onto her waist and lift her to the ground. Her hand finds yours again, as the pair of you walk out to find Grayson and Jake. You find your way to the smaller second bathroom, where Gray sits on a stool in front of the mirror as Jake combs his hair back.

They don’t notice you for a moment as you stay outside in the hall and quietly listen to Grayson ask questions about Jake’s plane. It's when you hear Jake mention letting Gray sit in the F-18, that Madelaine makes your presence known.

“I wanna sit in it too!”

She gains both of the boy’s attention, while Gray finds you instantly and gives you a small smile. Jake eye's land on Madeline as she does a small spin and the biggest smile breaks across his lips. He helps Gray down from the stool and gives him a small wink that makes Gray giggle as he comes to your side.

Another high-pitched giggle echoes in the small bathroom as Jake lifts Laine and settles her on his hip again. He stares down at her shirt, before placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

“Jakey, you don’t think I look silly? I wanted to dress up,” her hands gently flare out the tule skirt. “but had to wear my plane shirt.”

Jake’s hand comes to brush against the small bows in her hair, causing her to lean farther into him. “You look perfect, my little darlin’.”

He instantly has her perking up, while you feel a small finger poke at the side of your leg and look down to see Gray wiggling his nose before his finger motions for you to come down. You bend down as you give the small boy a smile, as he gets onto his tippy toes to lean closer to your ear.

“Could we maybe ride with Mr. Jake?” He pauses and Jake looks down at you in question, though you patiently wait for Gray to continue.

It’s when you feel his fingers start to twist in your shirt you pull away to look at him. He doesn’t lift his eyes to look at you, but you’re fairly certain you know what’s going on. You twist on the ball of your feet so Gray is standing directly in front of you before you lean in now to whisper to him.

“Are you worried about everyone crowding the planes?”

Your hand had found its way to the side of his face, and the small nod he gives you makes your heart ache. You knew that Gray had severe anxiety and would most likely be attached to you all day. You also knew how excited he was and that he was only trying to find a way that he could see the planes, but not be surrounded with excited children.

“Sweetheart,” Gray stays close to your side as you look up at Jake, who had been listening to Laine talk her little heart out. “Gray would like to know if he and Laine can ride with you to the base?” You would tell Jake about Gray being worried when he wasn’t listening and hope that your eyes are conveying enough information to Jake that he doesn’t question it.

“That what you want, bud?” Gray looks up when he hears Jake and gives him a small smile with a quiet ‘yes please.’ Laine finally slows her babbling about different sea animals, as she realizes that they would now be riding with Jake while you went and got the other kids sorted. Her smile widens immensely as she looks at Jake and gives him a small smirk, replying to Gray for him.

“That’s a great idea, Gray! That way we can keep track of Jakey and make sure that we get to see all the cool stuff, that nobody else sees.”

You stifle a laugh and look at Jake, who looks slightly stunned at the little firecracker in his arms. Gray bounces on his toes lightly, fully agreeing with his sister and no longer caring if Jake says yes.

Jake clears his throat before setting Laine on the ground, “Right you two, go get your bags.” The pair gives you a small smile before they are heading down the hall, chattering excitedly about everything they are going to see. Jake’s hand wraps around your waist and pulls you in. Your hands rest against his chest as Jake places a small kiss on your neck.

“You know she reminds be a lot of this self-assured, slightly cocky pilot I know.” Jake hums in your neck before nipping you, causing you to laugh.

“Just wait till she gets ahold of Chicken.” He pulls away from your neck looking at you with a teasing smirk. “It’s gonna be like a sneak attack, a miniature Hangman to give him hell.”

You pat his chest shaking your head at his and Bradley's never-ending antics against one another. Just last week Bradley had stolen the lunch you packed. It would have been fine, but it was a Wednesday. Meaning that Bradley had not only stolen the taco soup you made Jake, but stolen the brownies you made for his mid-week treat. Jake had been looking for the perfect way to get back at Bradley since.

“Don’t let her rip into him too much, Gray is there to be the counterweight.” You both laugh at that, they truly did even each other out. Jake leans in to kiss you, before pulling away and heading out the find the twins. The three of them congregate at the front door, as Jake double-checks that each of them has their water bottles and bags. You smile at the sight; he might have been a cocky asshole sometimes. But when he loved, he loved hard, and the sight before you was pure Seresin love and pride.

“Alright, darlin’ we will see you in a bit.”

Each of the twins yell goodbye; Laine blows you a kiss, while Gray waves, before Jake ushers them out and down the drive. They could do the smallest things, and yet still steal your heart.

...

The drive to base had been easy enough, each of the kids had gotten buckled in their booster seats without a fuss and Laine had once again requested for control of the music. Jake was not at all surprised when the same playlist that had been playing in the kitchen this morning echoed through the speakers. Letting the little girl wiggle in her seat, as she hummed along, singing a word every now and then if she knew them.

Jake had kept the music low, so he could still talk to the kids and answer any questions they might have. The Laine had asked a few questions along the way, mostly pertaining to who all would be there and if they were nice. Jake had assured her that the team would love them and that you and Jake had already told them about the twins.

Gray on the other hand had really been the chatterbox surprisingly. He had listed off facts that he knew about planes while asking for confirmation every now and then from Jake. Gray might have been on the shy side, but Jake couldn’t have been more thankful for this alone time with him. When it came to planes and anything related to the squadron, Gray lit up and his small shell became practically non-existent.

Jake slows the truck into a parking spot near the main office, while he would usually park closer to the separate building for Top Gun classes, he knew that you would be coming to the front office first. The dagger squad was supposed to be leading the tour, but you wanted to see your dad, as well as double-check with Cyclone that bringing the kids was okay.

Jake turns around in his seat after he puts the truck in park, looking over his two smiling blonde carbon copies. His sunglasses sit on the bridge of his nose and the khaki uniform would have fooled anyone into thinking that today was a normal day. That Jake Seresin was back on base, that Hangman was in his natural habitat and about to school his students in how they couldn’t fly for shit.

But the smile that rested just below the glasses was not the smirk that usually rested on Hangman’s face. No, Jake Seresin had a full-blown smile on his face and looked beyond the part of an excited father that was getting to share an important part of his life with the munchkins he loved.

“We ready?”

Laine gives Jake a strong nod, followed by an even surer ‘yup.’ While Gray gives a smaller ‘yes.’ Jake helps Laine get out of the truck as her eyes flash around the base taking in everything, quietly assessing the few people she sees walking around while staying safely next to Jake. Before Jake can help Gray down, he stops him, hands sitting on Gray’s small waist trying to gauge how he was feeling. You had texted Jake on the drive and he had quickly read the message just after parking.

His heart ached for the small boy as your words echoed in his mind, “If he needs to, just let him cling onto your leg. He’ll ground himself but just needs support. He hasn’t had a panic attack lately, but he usually can calm down with deep breathing and eye contact. Also, try not to let Laine see if he has one, it sends her into her own spiral of worry.”

“Bud,” His icy blue eyes find Jake’s green ones, timid and worried. “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll be with you the whole time.” Gray’s eyes soften as he stares at Jake, silently assessing if he could actually trust Jake. Jake gives him a small smile, which causes Gray to return one before giving Jake a nod. Jake lifts him from the truck placing Gray at his side, before locking the truck.

Laine grabs one of Jake’s hands, while Grayson takes the other and Jake gives him a small squeeze which earns a smile. Jake’s eyes then find the small spitfire that holds his hand in a death grip, tightening her small hand every time she got excited.

“Darin’ what did we talk about on the way here?” Jake’s tone is teasing and the sneaky smile the Madelaine gives looks like pure trouble.

“That mustache man’s name is Rooster, but I get to call him Chicken.” Jake gives her a look that is silently saying ‘and?’ “and if anyone asks, 'specially Ms. CeeCee, I did not hear it from you.”

A self-assured smirk rests on Jake’s face, and he gives her a quick wink followed by a “that’s my girl.”

Her hand tightens around Jake’s and a smile breaks across her face at the words. She follows his actions with her own, a small wink is aimed back at Jake that fills him with pride, as well as a tiny bit of excitement. He couldn’t help it if the prospect of having a mini hangman around caused him to make sure that trouble ensued.

The three of them cut across the lawn, making their way inside to find the rest of the squadron. Jake knew that you wouldn’t get here until 9:30 or so, depending on how bad the traffic was. Madelaine bounces up the front steps, while Gray remains by Jake’s side and quietly looks at everything. There weren’t main people in the main build, hell the group never usually hung out in the “main” rec room, but instead made the one in the west wing their designated spot.

Jake watches as Laine jitters in excitement, stopping when they walk through the doors and trying to contain her excitement. Jake laughs at the small girl and while he wouldn’t normal do what he was about to, there wasn’t anyone around at for her to upset.

“Darlin’?”

The name instantly has her beaming at Jake, waiting for him to talk.

“You see that glass door all the way at the end of the hall?” She looks to where Jake is pointing, causing Gray to peek around from Jake’s leg to look as well. “Chicken should be down in that room, why don’t you go say hi. Gray and I will be down in just a minute.”

The words leave Jake’s mouth and without a reply she takes off down the hall, making sure not to run, even though she clearly wants to. Jake eyes watch as she gets to the door and goes in, before turning to Gray who is still holding Jake’s hand but has pulled away just a bit to look through the glass cases lining the walls.

Jake slides up behind him, before crouching down to talk to the little blue eyed blonde. Jake doesn’t say anything as he lets Gray look, seeing the way his eyes squint, before leaning up closer to glass. When Gray turns back around to look at Jake, the small boy gives him a smile before adjusting his glasses.

“It’s an F-14.” It’s not a question but a statement and has Jake leaning closer to the case to see the picture that Grayson was in fact talking about. A wide smile and laugh falls from Jake as his arms wrap around Gray to hold close, before picking him up.

“What other one’s can you see?”

A mirroring smile breaks out on Grayson’s face as Jake moves with him to another photo. Each answer has Jake’s heart filling with pride as he looks at the small boy is astonishment and wonder. Slowly they make their way around the case, Gray sits on Jake’s hip with one arm holding onto Jake’s neck. A small smile breaks across his face every time that Jake praises him.

“That’s Ms. CeeCee’s daddy.”

Jake stops to look at the picture Gray is pointing at, to find the one of Maverick and Commander Kazansky. He pulls back even more astonished, “How’d you know that, bud?”

“Ms. CeeCee has that picture on her desk; she told me.”

Before Jake can reply, the sound of a squeal followed by laughter has Jake setting Gray down after he tells him that they could look again later. Gray's hand fits perfectly in Jake's as the small boy gives him a chipper okay before heading to the rec room.

...

It was too early, it might have been 8:30 in the morning, which was not early at all. But for a day that they had off, none of them wanted to get up. They technically didn’t officially have the day off, but they were only supposed to be showing your group of kindergartens around.

Which they were all very excited about, but Rooster had made it known to everyone that you should have planned for later in the morning. The occasional muttered words of you being a little shit and that you purely picked the time because you were a terror of a little sister, had the group laughing. Enjoying the show of his discontent, while his head hung off the side of the couch.

Honestly, Rooster was the only one complaining. The morning was not going in his favor, not at all like the way he had planned when he woke up this morning.

You see, Rooster had a coffee shop that he got coffee from every single morning, like religiously. Not only was the coffee good, but there was a barista that Rooster had a crush on and per Phoenix's advice, Rooster had decided to try and get her number.

After pinning away at the poor girl for 3 months he was finally gonna make a move. Said plan had gone to absolute shit, he had ordered his regular order, and everything was fine. It was a normal morning, his hair looked good and he had a little bit of pep in his step.

The plan to simply ask her out when he was getting his coffee from her was solid. He had planned what he would say, planned how to ask for her number, and even thought of a few dumb jokes that might have gotten her to laugh. Though after she had handed him his coffee he completely froze; his mind had become a vast land of waste.

She had given him the sweetest smile and her voice was so light and sweet, that he had completely frozen. The only words that made it past his lips were, a word that slightly sounded like a slurred ‘you’re’ followed by ‘pretty.’

She gave him a small giggle and smile, as Rooster’s face had gone completely red. He'd gotten her to laugh, just at his own idiotic expense. Before she could say anything, he had hightailed it out of the door.

Leaving him to now, surrounded by the team as each of them poked fun at him. Phoenix had known that today was the day and asked about it first thing when she saw him. The shade of red that once again cover his face, told the squad all that they needed to know. It was out of love, Rooster knew that but how had he gone from a sweet-talking ladies’ man to barely being able to speak. He couldn't believe it and the squad made sure to place they comment of how to fix it, if he ever got the nerve to show his face to her again.

So, when a small little blonde girl with bows in her hair and a bright pink tutu looking skirt, showed up in the room everyone had instantly stopped what they were doing.

Madelaine wasn’t a shy child; no, she was more so the child that everyone knew was coming. She wasn’t a bad child, but she did have a lot of energy and the confidence of a grown man. A bull in a China hut as Jake's mother liked to call it. Explaining to you when you first met them, that when you had children to be prepared for miniature Seresins.

Laine's eyes moved around the room slowly, looking at each of them. Coyote had seen a picture of the twins that you had on your phone and knew who she was, but everyone else didn’t have clue. Sure, you and Jake talked about them, but no one had ever seen them.

No one says anything as she looks around, finding Phoenix, and giving her a massive smile. She then finds Bob, sitting quietly next to Phoenix and the small tilt of Laine’s head while she looks at Bob causes him to worry slightly. Bob’s eyes flash to Phoenix as the small girl starts walking toward him, how had such a small human have the presence of a grown man with a massive ego. Like Hangman size ego.

“My bubba has glasses like you.”

No one had been prepaid for how soft and gentle her voice was, taking that into consideration made her extremely less intimidating.

“Oh yeah?”

She gives Bob a small ‘yep’ before looking around the room. The sight of Rooster laying back on the couch, just barely paying attention to the small girl, has a massive smile breaking across her face. She slowly moves closer to Rooster, acting as if she didn't want to spook him away. Her tiny form comes to stand over the man as he lies on the couch, assessing the way his eyes move to meet her own. Her eyebrow cocks slightly in consideration before she spins around to look back at Bob.

“He the only one with a mustache?”

The question confuses the whole group as they all watch, eyes bouncing off one another in question. Where had she come from, and if she was one of your students, why weren’t you with her. Bob nods in confirmation and the wide smile that breaks across her face has him smiling in return. Phoenix and Bob share a look as Laine looks between the pair, giving them another smile that makes her look as sweet as honey, before turning around to find Rooster.

He had sat up when she had asked Bob the question and now as she stares at him, he’s unsure of what to do. That is until her small hand juts out to Rooster, clearly looking for a handshake. Rooster grasps her small hand skeptically, unsure of what the hell is going on.

“I’m Madelaine, it’s nice to meet you, Chicken.”

The words that leave her lips have his mouth dropping open, while a round of laughter breaks out around him. The reaction has Laine laughing too before she gives Rooster another smile. Slapping on the sweet and innocent act hard now.

“Sweetheart, who are you here with?” Phoenix seems to be the only one that can calm her laughter, the sight of a small girl wandering around the base had her worried and anxious about why such a small child would be alone.

Though before she can answer, Jake and Gray make their way into the room.

“Jakey, I met Chicken.”

The whole room turns to see a beaming Jake Seresin, holding the hand of a little boy. Though he drops his hand for a moment, as Laine runs to him to be picked up. Her arms wrap around his neck before he places a kiss on the crown of her head and takes hold of Gray’s hand that had grasped onto his belt for the moment.

The sight in front of them causes the whole room to pause momentarily, when had Hangman become a father. Because looking at the set of three and how they shared almost every physical feature, other than eye color, it appeared like you and Jake had children that you had been hiding for five years.

The sight doesn’t faze Javy as he’s the first one to make his way over and officially meet the twins. Laine gives Javy a big smile, while Gray remains glued to Jake, only giving Javy a small wave. Jake runs a hand through Grayson’s hair, comforting the small boy, who was clearly overwhelmed given the current circumstances.

“Alright, I guess we better do introductions. I’ve got promises to fulfill before Y/n gets here.”

Gray pops up at the mention of getting to see the planes, while Laine is already buzzing with excitement.

“This is Miss Madelaine," The small girl lifts her head from its resting place in the crook of Jake's neck to smile at the surrounding group. "and this is my new wingman Grayson.” Gray's eyes flitter around the room, not holding contact with anyone before looking back up at Jake.

Jake winks down at Gray who smiles brightly at him, happy to have the show of care and love. Everyone comes forward for introductions, each of them excited to meet the children that had consumed your and Jake’s life.

Phoenix can’t seem to get enough of them, especially Grayson who can’t stop smiling at the pilot as she talks to him. Jake watches as she tells Gray something, before taking him to talk to Bob. Bob's mention of his glasses has Grayson smiling bigger than any of the other pilots had gotten him too.

Laine teases Rooster again as she rests in Jake's hold, though blushes and hides in Jake’s neck when he teases her back. Though Payback and Fanboy gain Laine’s attention at the mention of going to the beach. She is quick to wiggle down from Jake's hold and rush over to the couch with the two pilots. The pair ask her if she likes the ocean and cause her to go on a tangent about the sea.

...

“No, really! Dolphins are the meanies of the ocean, look it up.”

Her hands rest on her hips as she says it, waiting for Fanboy to check and smiling triumphantly when he reads an article about it. Jake shakes his head at the girl, looking at Gray who had found his way back to Jake’s side after talking to Bob.

“You ready to go, Bud?” Jake’s hand brushes a piece of gelled hair back from Gray’s face, and though he doesn’t realize it, the whole room watches in shock at how loving and gentle Jake is with the boy.

“Yes, please. Bob said he’s a weapons system operator, can he come with us? He said he would show me his controls.”

Jake nods as he sends Grayson to go tell Bob to come on. His heart swells as he watches Gray happily run to Bob across the room. This was the most public interaction that he had seen from the small boy and though Jake hadn’t been around them a lot before, you had told him how shy Gray was in public.

“Little darlin’?” Laine spins around happily when Jake calls her, leaving her lesson about the ocean with Fanboy to listen to Jake. “Wanna go see my plane?”

“And sit in it?”

“That’s what I promised, wasn’t it?”

Jake’s tone is teasing and has Laine running from the couch over to Jake after telling Payback and Fanboy that she would tell them more later. Grayson and Bob appear still talking about different planes, though he doesn’t reach out to grab Jake’s hand. Gray checks to make sure that Jake is by him, making eye contact as a silent confirmation that Jake wasn’t leaving him, before focusing back on Bob.

“We got about 45 minutes until y/n gets here and I promised these two that they could see the planes early. So, if you wanna come, lets go.”

Laine is the first one slipping from the rec room, hand attached to Jake’s as she looks around. Bob and Gray had found a safe pace right behind Jake, staying close but also allowing Gray a baby step toward space if he wanted. Jake hadn’t expected each of the pilots to get up and head to the hangar with him, to be honest, though if it was him in their place he would have come too.

Gray hadn’t stopped talking about the different planes and unbeknownst to him, the small boy had now gained the attention of all the pilots. Javy had made it to the front of the group to walk with Jake and Laine. Not expecting the spitfire to grasp onto his hand, but gladly accepts her hold. Though Javy quickly learns that Laine always seems to have ulterior motives, as she bats her eyelashes and sweetly asks if he and Jakey would swing her. A laugh falls from both Jake and Javy as the pair look at each other, before Jake silently shrugs his shoulders. Looking back at the small girl; the smile on her face was one that he couldn’t tell no.

And so, with every couple of steps, Jake and Javy had Madelaine swinging up off the ground. The small squeals of delight gain the attention of the few younger pilots that Jake recognized as students. Though no one in the squad pays them any mind, solely focusing on the two small bundles of joy.

...

Rooster and Phoenix walk slightly slower than the group, still a part of it but back far enough that they could talk just between the pair of them. The sight of Hangman and Coyote swinging Madelaine doesn’t go unnoticed, as well as the small glances back that Hangman makes every so often to check on Gray.

“Are you seeing this?” Roosters tone is skeptical, he surely wouldn’t believe what was occurring right in front of him if he wasn’t witnessing it.

“I know, I can’t believe how much Gray knows about planes.”

Rooster all but stops in his tracks as he deadpans at Phoenix, mouth open and closing slightly, gapping like a fish. Phoenix hadn’t even noticed Rooster's harsh stop, too focused on listening to Gray list off statistics from a P-41, though the over-exaggerated hand movement finally gets her attention.

“No, Nat! I mean Hangman; when has he ever smiled as much as he is?”

“He smiles like that with Y/n.”

A frustrated huff leaves Rooster's chest and he can’t seem to figure out why no one else can see what he sees. That Hangman had turned into a gummy bear and more than he normally was with you. They looked like mini Sereins and Jake treated them like they were his. Hell, Madelaine was a damn copy of the cocky pilot all the way down to her attitude.

Phoenix notices Rooster’s baffled face and slows slightly, causing the group to separate from them further. Her lips form into a harsh line, as she raises her eyebrow slightly at Rooster, though the pilot seems to not have a clue about what he did wrong.

“I know that we give Jake a hard time, we all throw jokes, but don’t question this.” Rooster’s eyes flick toward the group and then back at Phoenix. “We all know how long they’ve been trying Roo; if this is what Y/n and Jake need then we support them. If this somehow turns into something more, we support them.”

The mention of you and Jake struggling with infertility has the smile on Rooster’s face dropping as he gives Phoenix a solum nod in understanding. Rooster had been a major person that you and Jake leaned on throughout it.

It had only happened a couple times with Jake while on base, and Rooster hadn’t heisted in taking over the class and letting Jake have a few moments. For you, Rooster had seen the sobs wreak havoc through your body and felt the hopelessness of only being able to hold you. He was your big brother and seeing you so broken, without a way to help, killed him.

The pair of them catch up to the group easily, as they had stopped to let the twins look at a jet taking off from the runway in the distance. Grayson was mesmerized and hadn’t taken his off of it till he could no longer see the plane. Madelaine had somehow landed back in Jake’s arms, as he pointed out on the horizon.

The sound of a small ‘wow’ gains Jake’s attention and has him looking down at Gray, who is already staring back at him.

“I wanna do that someday.”

Gray grabs back onto Jake’s free hand as he looks back out to see if any other jets were taking off. Though Jake’s eyes can’t seem to leave the small boy. Jake knew that Gray loved planes; but to see him look up at Jake and tell him those exact words that he had muttered to his father at such a young age, caused his eyes to gloss over and promise himself that he would do anything in his power to make sure Gray’s dream came true.

...

“How do I look?” The words are muffled behind the mask as Laine’s head sways slightly under the weight of Jake’s helmet. Her small form looks even smaller sitting in the cockpit of Jake’s plane and Jake can’t but want to talk a picture.

“You look perfect, darlin’. Smile for me, Ms. CeeCee is gonna want to see this.”

A giggle breaks from her chest as the widest smile covers her face. The round of giggle’s that breaks from her chest has Phoenix and Coyote laughing, even more so when she pokes her tongue out at Jake for a “funny pose.”

“Come on sweetpea, it’s time to let Gray have a turn.”

Jake unclips the side of the mask from his helmet, before moving to lift Madelaine out of the seat. One of her arms wrap around Jake’s neck, while the other holds his helmet secure on her head still. Jake sets her down on the steps, watching as Coyote takes her small hand and helps her down. Once safely on the ground Jake’s eyes flash up to look for Gray, though neither him nor Bob are anywhere in sight.

Jake chuckles as he makes his way down the steps, already positive that they’re in the second hangar where Phoenix and Bob’s jet resides. Both Fanboy and Payback had gone missing as well, no doubt with Gray as they couldn’t seem to hear enough about the different facts he knew.

“Gray and the boys went to our hanger.” Jake nods along to Phoenix, looking out to find Laine chasing Rooster.

“I figured,” Jake's helmet sways with every turn Laine makes, though she doesn’t falterer as she tries to ware Rooster down. “Little darlin’, come on we're going to go find bubba.”

Both Rooster and Madelaine stop to listen to Jake, while Rooster seems plenty happy to no longer be running, a small pout forms on Laine’s lips as she looks back up at Rooster.

“Chicken,” The name makes Rooster laugh, before lowering down to the small girl. Her voice lowers, so much so that he can barely hear her. “can I have a piggyback ride?”

Rooster’s smile falters momentarily, not liking how she looks down and the drop of her voice in worry. Rooster is gentle as he tips back Laine’s chin, the small frown residing on her face melts away when Rooster gives her a massive smile.

“Of course, you can.” His hand reaches out and tickles at Laine, causing another round of giggles accompanied by a full smile to break out. “Who am I to deny the princess.”

Jake silently watches as Rooster slowly gets Madelaine to open up, his chest tightening at the pair. She hadn’t told Jake anything when she had climbed into bed with him this morning, her small whimpering form had woken him up as she sat quietly at the side of the bed clutching the blanket you picked out for them.

The tears streaming down her face felt like a punch to the gut and when Jake opened his arms for her, she was instantly up and falling into them. Quiet shush’s and humming had calmed her and had her asleep in no time.

He didn’t know everything that the twins had been through, there was only so much that you could tell him when you weren’t positive of what all the twins had been through yourself. But after last night, Jake knew that letting Janice and Ed take them back at the end of the week was going to be one of the hardest things he would go through.

How could Jake willingly let two children go back into a house that he wasn’t even sure was safe? Not taking into account what the twins had shown or said, Jake wouldn’t have liked or approved of the foster parents anyway. He knew the moment that they came in to sign the paperwork this week, that they weren’t housing the kids out of love.

The small nudge against Jake’s shoulder has him leaving Rooster and Laine, to find a worried Phoenix looking at him. You and Phoenix were close and talked about everything under the sun, though he wasn’t sure what all you had told her. And he, well he only ever told Javy and Rooster sometimes, what was bothering him. More often than not he told Javy or just waited until he could talk to you.

You were Jake’s safe place, you understood and loved him when everyone else only saw him as an asshole. You knew the real Jake, the one that was vulnerable and worried that he wasn’t enough. That somehow, in some way he would disappoint you and his parents.

“You, okay?” the question rings out and causes Jake to question if he wanted to venture down that spiral right now.

“All good Phe, just trying to figure out some stuff.”

She gives him an apprehensive smile, though doesn’t prod, and follows him out to find the boys in the second hanger. Laine bounces with each step Rooster takes on his shoulders with Jake's helmet still sitting upon her head. It doesn’t take long for Laine to reach out for Jake as he gets closer, wanting to be back in his arms. The small girl slips from Rooster’s hold, and down into Jake’s awaiting arms. Jake's hand rubs gently at Laine’s back as she tightens her hold on his neck and nuzzles in deeper.

...

Jake slips his phone from his pocket to see a message from you, stating that you were 15 minutes away and asking how the twins were fairing. He quickly types back a response, before finding Gray up in Phoenix and Bob's plane, the others crowding around the base listening to Gray ask questions about the different parts that Bob knows like the back of his hand.

Laine wiggles in his hold, before quietly whispering in Jake’s ear that she would like to go see where Phoenix flies. Jake sets the small girl down and watches as she makes a beeline for the group. Fanboy helps her up the stairs and the pair giggle together, giving Bob wide smiles as he takes a picture of them.

Jake stays back, quietly watching the squadron accept the twins like they had been born into the group. Jake sees Bob pocket his phone after taking a few more pictures. Jakes calls out to him, telling Bob that he would appreciate it if he would send him the pictures. Jake gets a thumbs up, though isn’t looking at Bob long because the sight of the twins peeking over the side of the cockpit with their tongues out has him smiling.

Rooster comes to stand beside Jake, as Bob helps the twins get out and to the ground. Jake’s eyes leave the pair to look at Rooster, who still hasn’t taken his eyes off the twins.

“So, these two going to be making me an uncle?” Rooster says it with a laugh, making sure that Jake knows that he is open to anything and doesn’t hold any contempt toward this newfound possibility of Jake and your growing family.

“I don’t know, and I can’t get mine or y/n hopes up.” A deep sigh falls from Jake's lips that finally causes Rooster to look at him. “But I know that whatever happens, I won’t be letting go of them unless it’s for a situation that would be better and more loving than what we can give them.”

“I’m guessing you’re referring to their current situation, that Javy mentioned?”

Jake’s jaw clenches at the mention of Janice and Ed. The pain of not knowing what exactly is going on but knowing that it’s enough to cause the twins to show signs of at least emotional abuse, if not more. If he found out that it ever was more, Jake wasn’t sure if there would be anyone that could stop him from settling up on behalf of the twins.

The chatter coming from the runway gains Rooster’s and Jake’s attention to see you with Mav and a group of children and a few parents. The chatter gains the twin's attention and has them setting off for you, in squeals of delight while still wearing Jake and Bob’s helmets.

The sight of you dropping to your knees to hug the pair makes Rooster’s breath catch. He watches you introduce the pair to Mav, who immediately lifts a smiling Madelaine as she talks about her helmet. Gray settles at your side, holding onto your belt loop as you introduce the group of pilots that make their way over.

“Guess that settles it.” Rooster’s voice is warm but holds a harsh tone that gains back Jake’s attention.

“They're a part of our family now.” Rooster’s gaze finally breaks from the group to look at Jake, as Jake watches an emotion cross Rooster’s face that he had only ever witnessed a few times. Those times being, when talking about his parents, after an asshole at the Hard Deck grabbed you, and the day of the Uranium mission after almost losing Mav. “I’ve had my family broken apart once, I won’t let it happen to you and y/n. And I sure as hell won’t let it happen to those two.”

#gingy writes #sweet nothings series #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #tgm imagine #tgm fic #top gun au #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman top gun #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin au #top gun imagine #tgm #tgm au

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cafeacademia · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're having a bit of a rubbish day, you feel horrible and you don't know why and when you reach for a soft, warm jumper for comfort, you accidentally give the rest of the team a not so subtle clue to yours and Spencer's odd behaviour as of late...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Secret relationship between Reader and Spencer, some unfriendly comments made by teammates and a local cop (honestly from the team it's nothing too bad, it's all just because the tension is running high), period mentions, frustration, a little bit of tears, fluff.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 1.1k

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hi everyone!! I've been looking forward to writing this one ever since @reidsbookclub sent me the request. It took me a couple of tries to write this the way I saw it in my head, but I'm really happy with it. I hope you enjoy!

Spencer knew that you weren’t having a good day. If the several more cups of coffee than usual wasn’t a hint, then the deep sighs, constant deep frowns and temple massages were enough to tell him that you were struggling to keep focus. And because you were struggling to keep focus, people were getting impatient with you. Morgan double checked a file you read through and picked up on a few things you missed, but proceeded to tell you that you needed to be on top of your game. JJ told you that you needed to be faster when delivering assessments you had done on the unsub, but the reason it had taken you so long was because you were given a task that was so information heavy and you were expected to complete it alone. Normally things like that were given to Spencer, especially because he could finish it all in a quarter of the time you did.

It was only when an officer made a second comment about your efficiency that day that you snapped. “We should just save the documents for the other kid, you are not delivering fast enough.” “Well excuse me for not being able to read as fast as a one of a kind genius. If you want to compare me to him, fine but don’t set me up to fail next to him when you know he’s faster.” You snapped, slamming the papers down onto the table.

By the time you had walked out of the room, the officer knew he had messed up. The tensions were high on this case, but it was no excuse.

“Hey, come on, come with me. I think you need a minute.” Spencer intercepted you in the doorway, having overheard the officer’s comment and your outburst. “I wasn’t wrong.” You were defensive, but Spencer didn’t try to stop you. “I know, I’ll sabotage his stuff later.” He whispered so only you could hear. At least that brought an amused smile to your lips, even if it was small.

Spencer pulled you away with him and into the back room where he had been looking over some evidence from previous cases that were originally thought to be unrelated. “Come here,” He said, sitting down in his seat and opening his arms for you. “Sit in my lap.” You easily obliged, doing what he told you to do and sinking onto his lap, melting into his arms as Spencer pulled you against his chest. “It’s okay, let it out. I know you’re frustrated.” He soothed you, his hand rubbing up and down your back. You weren’t even sure why you were so wound up, but you just couldn’t focus, you were slow and tired and everything ached and-, “I have pads and painkillers in my bag if you need them, sweet girl.” Oh. Oh. How did Spencer pick up on that before you did? Honestly sometimes you got so caught up in feeling awful but trying so hard to push through it that you forget that it might actually be caused by something.

“Spencer, I was so out of line with that guy.” You suddenly wailed, tears pooling in your eyes. “Oh no, no, sweetheart you weren’t, he was out of line with you. He’s just as tense as all of us, but he took it out on you, I promise you didn’t do anything wrong.” Spencer reassured you, hugging you closer. “But everyone keeps looking at me weird and making comments at me today and-.” You were interrupted by your own little sob, letting all of the frustration out. You felt a little silly to be crying over something so insignificant but Spencer was reminding you that it was okay to feel upset about silly things sometimes.

“Everyone’s looking at you weird? What do you mean?” Spencer asked softly, gently cupping your cheeks in the palms of his hands and wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Your lip wobbled as he waited for a response, but it was only when he looked down at you that it suddenly clicked. “Oh.” Spencer whispered. “Oh?” “Is that my jumper?” He asked, eyes fixed on the warm, beige wool jumper that you had put on that morning and worn so proudly to work. You hadn’t been able to resist, Spencer had left it in your hotel room by accident the other day when he had walked you back to your room and you had reached for it that morning in need of some comfort. “Hmm, maybe that’s why the team had been acting weird. They know.” Spencer theorised. You didn’t respond, but your eyes suddenly widened and you let out a groan under your breath, how could you have been so stupid? Of course they would pick up on you wearing Spencer’s jumper, no wonder Emily and JJ had been making strange comments and making hearts with their hands at you all day. God you really were out of it, you hadn’t exactly been subtle about it.

“Ah shit.” You sighed. “I’m so sorry, Spence.” You let your head fall onto his shoulder, half using it as an excuse to hide out of embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” Spencer spoke softly, fingers gently lifting your chin so he could meet your gaze. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months, I feel really good about what we have. Maybe it’s time we tell them.” Spencer proposed. “Besides, it’s really hard to hide how I feel around an entire team of profilers.” “It is difficult.” You agreed. “Maybe it is time we told them.”

“Mm, later. First, I think I need your help with these old cases. I’m going to go and tell Hotch that I’ve asked you for help and I’ll go and accidentally spill my pencil shavings over that guy on the way.” He said, picking up his full pencil sharpener. God, he could be really petty when he wanted to be and you loved it, as long as you weren’t on the receiving end.

“Where do you want me to start, Spence?” You asked quietly as you stood up so he could leave the room. “You can start by getting comfortable, sweetheart. There are things in my bag for you and here,” He paused, standing up and digging about in his blazer pocket for a moment. “Tell Rossi to get you a hot chocolate, he can’t say no to you.” He said, handing you some money. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, my sweet girl. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ve got you.” Spencer spoke gently, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@reidsbookclub @russian-potatoes @hallecarey1 @deanhisbaby @alexxavicry @hoshinokurasa

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid blurb

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puppy-byun · 10 months

Text

Just Friends... Unless...? | Pt. 3

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader / a sprinkle of Seonghwa x Reader

rating: 18+

word count: 13.3k

genre: smut / friends to lovers / angst / university au

warnings: curse words, weed consumption and drinking (not by reader or hyunjin), angst, bad flirting, more angst, ANGST, sex, please use protection please be smart!!!!, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), light dirty talk, pet names

summary: You weren’t crushing on Hyunjin. You couldn’t be crushing on Hyunjin because you were just friends, and there was no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Right? Unless...?

note: we're already done with another one i can't believe... I hope you all had fun and enjoyed this & if you did I'd be happy if you leave me your thoughts in a reply or ask hihi

taglist: @chartrucewhore @hyunfruits @petalsnow @yaorzu-blog

previous | masterlist

You didn’t expect Chan to wait for you two days later after your lecture, leaning against the wall next to the exit of your classroom, arms crossed like a father waiting for his daughter to get home in the middle of the night.

“Uhm, hi?” you greeted, not unhappy to see your friend but something in your gut told you he was here with a purpose that you weren’t going to like. Nonetheless you gently disentangled his arms and hooked yours through instead, tugging him along down the hallway and towards the building’s exit. “To what do I owe the honor of you picking me up? Don’t you have classes, too?” you mock scolded, already having an idea why he was here. You were sending a silent prayer that you were wrong.

“I do but apparently if you fake a spontaneous bout of sickness they excuse you before you can throw up in their classroom.” Chan admitted with a proud grin and you swatted him over the back of his head, struggling to reach up.

“Skipping class, I see.” you tsked, shaking your head as if you were disappointed in him. “And here I thought you are a role model.”

Chan let out a dry chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “To whom? Jeongin already is the most responsible one out of you guys. I gave up a while ago with the rest of you.”

You laughed with him, knowing that he was only joking because while some of you were indeed slacking off at times, you knew no one more dedicated to their passions than your friends.

“Anyway, I know what you’re doing, and you know just fine why I’m here.”

“Yes actually I just remembered I wanted to talk to my professor so I’m gonna head back-“ you were already about to turn around and make a swift exit to anywhere where Chan wasn’t but he had expected this and caught your arm faster than you could dive away from his grasp.

“Oh no. We are going to talk now.” Giving in with a sigh you let him pull you along but refused to say anything. This talk would only happen if Chan coaxed it out of you word by word.

“Here, I brought you some endorphins because I have a feeling you need them,” he started, fishing one of your favorite chocolate bars out of his bag. You took it with a mumbled thank you but refused to look at your friend, focusing on the chocolate instead.

“Chan, we already talked at that stupid pool party. What more is there to talk about?”

“For starters, we could talk about what on earth went down after we talked, because Seungmin, Minho and Felix have all separately told me that Hyunjin is basically living in the practice room ever since that night.”

“That’s like, two days. He’s done that before, it’s normal,” you waved him off nonchalantly, refusing to admit anything as long as you didn’t have to. You wish you could say you had managed to not think about that night much, or at least everything that had gone down before you had gone inside with Seonghwa. But your mind was as hyper-focused on Hyunjin as ever, even when he was being an absolute idiot.

“We all know that, but if they’re worried you know it’s exceeding the normal extent. And the fact that you’re not looking at me and keep pretending this chocolate is the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen is telling me that you know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him then?” you huffed, trying not to come off as snappy because Chan didn’t deserve your frustration.

“Because you were my friend first. I can tell you’re unhappy and I want to help, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t do that.”

“You can’t help either way, Chan. But alright,-“ you conceded with a sigh “I’ll tell you. Hyunjin and me kissed, okay?” you dropped that bomb in as meek a voice as possible, ready to move on with your retelling and not dwell on this. “And then he-“

“Hold up, stop right there. When?“ he physically stopped mid-walk, eyes big and hand held out in front of your chest, automatically causing you to look up at him.

“Karaoke night.” You answered automatically. “The others took Jisung home and I offered to take Hyunjin because he was drunk. That’s when.” You finished lamely, hoping to skip the recounting of this night in any more detail.

“The next day he didn’t remember anything. Or he pretended not to remember anything. I doesn’t really matter, because I realized how fucked I am either way. And ever since then things have been really weird between us. The kiss-“ you cringed a bit at that word because it had been so much more, and if it really just had been a kiss the whole situation probably wouldn’t have blown up quite like this. “After the kiss it was weird because I remembered. And whether purposely or not, Hyunjin didn’t. But I thought we’d be fine when he asked if I’d come to the pool party. And then he really exploded on me in a nasty way and now everything is even worse.”

“Was that before or after you got cozy with Seonghwa?”

“After,” you added meekly, his gaze telling you exactly where he was going with this. He didn’t even add anything, just staring at you with a raised brow and letting the pregnant silence weigh in.

Finally you gave in, looking away with a grumpy huff because maybe Chan was making some points, but you had just as many to prove that he was wrong, the biggest one being that you had been friends for three years with no instance of Hyunjin ever indicating he wanted to be more than your friend other than that one time two weeks ago.

“You know, I’ve been talking about this with Changbin and Seungmin a lot, but actually everyone except for you knows.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant, but you also didn’t indulge him with a reply. Just because they thought they were pinpointing some signs correctly didn’t prove anything unless Hyunjn told anyone himself.

“Why do you think none of us have ever made a move on you, apart from the obvious reasons why I haven’t?”

“Because we’re friends,” you supplied with a tone that clearly implied a heavy duh. You didn’t miss the irony of saying the same thing about Hyunjin and you, yet everything between the two of you was vastly different.

“And you think just because we’re friends Jisung or Changbin have never had a crush on you?”

“What?!” you burst out, too shocked now to continue staying nonchalant and blasé about this when you hadn’t been the whole talk anyways.

Chan was only grinning because he knew he got you now. “Well anyways, that’s not the point,” he added unhelpfully, clearly not going to dwell on this topic right after he dropped a bomb like that.

“Why did you tell me then?!” you pressed on, your brain still processing his last few sentences and not quite keeping up.

“To prove a point, obviously. They’re long over it now- actually over it, not the way you were over Hyunjin.” You punched him in the shoulder for that jab, even though he was regretfully completely right again. “They never acted on it because Hyunjin has always liked you, right from the very beginning.”

“As if Changbin is scared of competing with Hyunjin,” you scoffed, still not buying what Chan was selling you because the idea that Hyunjin liked you was simply too ridiculous.

“He’s not, of course, but everyone can tell how much Hyunjin likes you and no one wants to hurt him that way.”

“Chan, I appreaciate the effort of making me feel better, but none of this makes sense. Why was Hyunjin all over Chaeyoung if he allegedly likes me?”

“Why were you all over Seonghwa?”

“Because I want to get over Hyunjin and I want to prove to myself that I ca- oh.” You stopped mid-sentence, realizing you had talked yourself into this one. You hated to admit that Chan was making sense but there was no way to deny it. Neither you nor Hyunjin had ever had hookups in front of the other in those three years you had known each other, but as soon as you had, both of you had reacted so poorly it was downright embarrassing. Him getting drunk and throwing a fit, you jumping on Seonghwa’s offer to fuck just to prove a point. Maybe Chan was right after all. Yet, if Hyunjin liking you meant him treating you the way he had you weren’t sure you wanted it.

“He still said horrible things to me, Chan. I could tell he wanted his words to hurt. Who does that, especially since he allegedly likes me?”

“Feelings do make us act more irrational and stupid. And he was drunk.”

“Yeah, so? And on top of that he had plenty of time to apologize, yet he did not.”

Chan sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side in a comforting half-hug.

“Look, I’m not trying to protect him, I’m one hundred percent with you on this. But we’ve all done and said horrible things coming from a place of hurt. You’re not even sure if he remembers the kiss, yet you’re hurt he doesn’t mention it. But you were sober, and if he remembers but for some reason acts as if he doesn’t, then he knows you remember for sure, yet you don’t mention it either.”

You ignored that technically Chan was, once again, right. You couldn’t really blame Hyunjin if he was pretending not to remember, not unless you held yourself accountable too, because you could’ve brought it up just as well, but chickened out.

“So, we agree he’s probably lying to me?” you settled on instead, because this was easier. Being angry at Hyunjin was easier than facing that both of you screwed up big time.

“Listen, if this were any other guy I’d already have punched him in the face personally,” Chan assured you, squeezing your shoulder gently. “But it’s Hyunjin. We’ve all been friends for years. You have been in love for years-“

“Debatable on his part,” you protested just for good measure but Chan simply ignored the comment.

“-while I was hoping this would explode with you two finally fucking, it kinda went the other direction, but that doesn’t mean it’s unfixable.”

And he was right, you didn’t want to give up on this friendship, on Hyunjin, so easily. Feelings or not, he had been one of your closest friends for so long you did not want to lose that over something this stupid. But you were also hurt, and those feelings didn’t just go away either.

“I’ll think about it.” You finally admitted in defeat, feeling extremely overwhelmed with everything going through your head, but you couldn’t deny that talking to Chan had helped. “It’s just a lot to take in and I’m not sure what to do with any of this just yet.”

You weren’t sure a couple of days later either, but the world regrettably didn’t stop spinning for you to figure out your feelings, so you were left with very little choices but to confront them sooner rather than later.

“Come oooooon,” Chaeryoung was whining for the nth time this morning, and you couldn’t really be mad at her. “It’s a Jackson Wang party, you know we cannot pass on that.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to groan because she couldn’t know all the reasons you very well wanted to pass on a Jackson Wang party since you hadn’t told her. “I’ve literally heard damn near urban legends about his parties, and when we finally get invited to one you want to say no?!”

She had said this, too, at least twice already.

“What do you mean we? Last time I remembered Seonghwa asked me,” you joked, teasing her because this was the only thing you could do since you couldn’t outright be annoyed with her. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know you had good reasons not to go. If anything, you had to blame yourself for telling her Seonghwa invited you in the first place.

His text message was the first thing you had seen in the morning and in your half-asleep state you had not considered the consequences of telling Chaeryoung you had received an invitation to a party at Jackson Wang’s house. Not only was she dead-set on the fact that there was no way you would decline because she would, quote, ‘rather die than miss this opportunity’.

To make matters worse, she had consequently found out that the invitation had come from none other than Seonghwa directly. Since there were very few scenarios as to why he would invite you her mind immediately jumped to the one plausible conclusion. You didn’t feel like diving into a recount of your night – especially because you’d rather not mention what led up to the decision to leave with Seonghwa, so you just let her construct her own picture of what had happened. You didn’t need to elaborate on whether you had actually slept with him or not before you found out he’s the biggest Star Wars nerd (the R2D2 underwear was a bit of a giveaway though) and had subsequently spent the rest of your night with him trying to convince you you just absolutely had to marathon Star Wars with him.

You were fairly sure that this wasn’t necessarily a booty call (although he probably wouldn’t say no either) – he actually just seemed to enjoy hanging out with you.)

Chaeryoung, however, who was nurturing a never-ending admiration from afar for Hongjoong, had smelled blood, convinced that this was the night she would finally get to make a move.

Since then she had not stopped pestering you for the last three or so hours, constantly bringing up new arguments why you had to go and why there was no reason not to, and you had trouble coming up with an excuse. You couldn’t very well tell her the truth, which was that there was a very high risk Hyunjin would be at the party as well, and you were far from having figured out your feelings and definitely not ready to face him. Then again, you doubted you would know what to do even if you had a week or a month to think about it. Plus, since you doubted Chaeryoung would let go of this, you finally gave in with a sigh, reaching for your phone to ask Chan if he would be going as well and could drive you.

“Don’t ignore me!” Chaeryoung huffed, plopping down on the sofa next to you to catch a glimpse at your phone. “Hold up, are you actually asking Chan do drive us? I convinced you?”

She looked at you so shocked you realized she hadn’t actually been sure she would succeed.

“As if you’d ever let me live it down if I got between you and your shot at getting with Hongjoong.”

“Very true, bestie,” she nodded, poking her tongue out and almost jumping up when your phone buzzed next to you. “Was that Chan? Is he driving us? God I can’t believe I’ll end up making out with Hongjoong tonight.”

If anything, you had to commend her confidence and drive, so you let her have the moment, even though you felt sick at the prospect of probably seeing Hyunjin again already.

Jackson’s house was big, at least from the stories you’d heard. That is what you were telling yourself to calm down and convince yourself there was a chance that you might be spared from running into Hyunjin. Those hopes were crushed mercilessly when you were towed towards Chan’s car by Chaeryoung a few hours later, and you spotted the one boy you had been hoping to avoid on the passenger seat next to Chan. Granted, you only saw the back of his head and the tiniest bit of side profile but that was enough for you to immediately recognize Hyunjin.

Your mood soured almost instantly, feeling a bit betrayed that Chan hadn’t even warned you. Yeah, he was still going with the whole ‘you both need to confront your feelings and sort this out’ thing, but there were subtle ways to push the agenda, and then there was this. Chaeryoung, still thankfully oblivious to the true reason of your hesitancy to go to this party, was dragging you to the car without slowing down, opening the door and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly hello. You couldn’t share her excitement, half tempted to whack Chan over the head for forcing you into this situation. You hadn’t talked to Hyunjin in days, technically even longer if the awkward half-conversations via texts before that weren’t counted – and they shouldn’t be. And as if to fuck you over even more, the dim lights of the car were not enough to conceal his outfit. God, he had to be doing this on purpose.

He knew he looked good, of course he knew. Ever since he had grown out his hair and bleached it even he couldn’t not notice the effect he had on people around him. Despite that he barely went through any extra effort when you went out, knowing he looked breath-taking as it was.

Not tonight though. Tonight, as if struggling with your feelings for him day by day wasn’t torture enough, he wore his long hair open, casually tucked behind his ears to show off a row of earrings dangling. He’d even gone through the trouble of applying eyeliner – you’d only seen him do that once or twice, despite always telling him how good it looked, but of course tonight he’d remember. It wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the high sleeveless top, that didn’t just show off his arms and shoulders in a way that made it impossible not to look. No, as if that wasn’t enough, the sleeve cut outs were so big if he moved just a bit he might as well just go shirtless. You were just about ready to throw the door shut and run back to your dorm, abandoning ship, but Chaeryoung wasn’t having any of it. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the car so decisively you almost banged your head.

At least the light and angle were saving you from the sight of Hyunjin’s lean muscles peeking out thanks to that horrible shirt.

You mumbled out a greeting so silent and grumpy it was only rivalled by Hyunjin’s, and your hopes for having a decent, amicable evening were dwindling rapidly. The looks should have been an incentive to do what Chan kept urging you to do – either talk it out or finally get on Hyunjin’s lap – but in all honestly it only made you angry because there was no way this was a coincidence. He barely ever made an effort, and suddenly tonight he would make sure to tick all the boxes of everything you’d ever mentioned you found attractive?

You were still hoping that Hyunjin might be smarter sober, but the mood between you was undeniably icy already, so you weren’t very optimistic. Even though you hadn’t sorted your feelings out and talking to Chan had only made everything a lot more complicated you desperately wanted to find even the smallest reason to forgive Hyunjin to at least have your friend back. But he wasn’t even looking at you, giving you a vibe so frosty you doubted he even wanted to be forgiven. You had really hoped sober him would be more reasonable than drunk him, but you hadn’t counted on just how petty Hyunjin could be.

“You look good.” You barely caught Chan’s comment, snorting when the words filtered in because he was shamelessly exaggerating.

“If you’d say that to Chaeryoung I’d believe you. I’m wearing sneakers and a shirt, who are you trying to fool?”

You were surprised just how much you were able to shut out Hyunjin and shove those feelings aside even when he was right there. But even so the conversation simply felt off, and how could it not when two out of four people wouldn’t even properly look at each other. It was Chan’s own fault, really, for bringing you both in this situation, but poor Chaeryoung had no idea what was going on. She had undoubtedly caught on to the mood, if her squirming next to you was any indication.

Chaeryoung was talkative by nature, bubbly and sweet, but she could not handle awkward or uncomfortable silences so it had only been a matter of time before she would force up a conversation. You had come surprisingly far before she couldn’t take it any longer; but for the second time today her not being in the loop was coming to bite you in the ass, because what she caught on was the one topic she assumed all of you were in on.

“I wish I could just show up in shorts and a shirt, honestly, but I have a game plan for tonight and that’s getting with Hongjoong, and I’ll be damned if I don’t pull all the heavy weaponry,” she stated, pointing her finger towards her very generously low-cut top as if it hadn’t been clear already what she was talking about. “I still can’t believe you pulled Seonghwa without any effort and you don’t even let me in on your secrets.”

You had laughed when you’d told her about it the first time. It wasn’t so funny now, when you caught Hyunjin stiffen in his seat out of the corner of your eye. Chan, as small as a consolidation as it was, seemed to catch on that maybe this wasn’t the best conversational topic, but Chaeryoung couldn’t know that and judging by how she was worrying the edge of her dress nervously, visibly uncomfortable in this car ride, you already knew she wouldn’t read the room and stop talking.

“If you go home with him again tonight, which, by the way, I really think you should because that pretty boy is quite the catch, you have to tell us beforehand so we don’t end up looking for you all over the house.”

You just desperately wanted her to not push this topic any further but at this point the damage was done and your fingers were digging into the seat of Chan’s car. Hyunjin’s voice came like an icy cut, cold and with a snide you had barely ever heard from him. In a way, this was even worse than the weekend before, because this time he was sober.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask what that even was last weekend. I never pegged you to be the type of girl to throw herself at a guy the way you threw yourself at him.”

For a moment no one said anything, the words sinking in. You were honestly struggling to even come up with anything to say because you didn’t find it in you to throw something equally as malicious at his head when you didn’t mean it.

“What the hell, Hyunjin?!”

It was Chan who spoke up instead, sounding somewhere between irritated and furious, and while you were grateful he felt the need to stand up for you, you feared it would only make things worse. “As if you weren’t close to shoving your hand down Chaeyoung’s bikini top right in that pool. A bit hypocritical to call someone out for flirting, don’t you think?”

You knew Chan was judging neither of you for any of that. But he had already told you that if it were any other guy treating you this way he would’ve already punched him. Apparently Hyunjin slut-shaming you was tethering dangerously close to making Chan forget they were friends.

“Of course you’re going to pick her side.”

You weren’t sure whether you had wanted an answer from Hyunjin beyond that, because it was bad enough, but you should have expected that it would only get much worse when Chaeryoung decided she had to defend you, too, probably irritated at the fact that you were not speaking up for yourself. Outstanding qualities in a friend, but right at that moment you wished she would care for you a little less.

“So, when did you realize you have a crush? Before or after she fucked Seonghwa?” Chaeryoung’s voice was a sneer but what was worse was Hyunjin’s reaction upon hearing her words. Chan had barely parked the car, not even killed the engine yet, and Hyunjin stormed out without another word, banging the car door shut with such force all three of you flinched in your seats.

You had thought it couldn’t possibly be more awkward when you’d entered the car, but now with Hyunjin’s dramatic exit you realized you had been dead wrong. Chan was gripping the stirring wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, and you didn’t even need to fully look at Chaeryoung to catch the look of utter shock on her face. In any other situation you’d have laughed, but now you only felt empty and exhausted.

You didn’t know whether either of them was waiting for you to say something or not, but even if they were, there was nothing you could’ve possibly said. You were as affronted as they were, although probably a hell of a lot more hurt. But now that you were already at the party and the damage was done, there was little you could do, so you decided that you would at least try to make it as pleasant as possible for your friends.

“I thought you wanted to meet Hongjoong, what are we sitting around here for?” you quipped up at Chaeryoung instead, the cheerfulness in your voice sounding forced even to you, but it was honestly the best you could do. You were out of the car before either of them could say something and you heard the car doors shut behind you. Of course they wouldn’t simply leave it at that after what had just happened though.

“Are you sure you still want to go?” Chan’s voice was laced thickly with worry while you heard him hurry after you. You were crossing the ridiculously long driveway with big strides, even more grateful you had opted for sneakers instead of anything less comfortable. You didn’t look back, but you knew Chaeryoung had trouble keeping up with the way she was huffing between her words.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I was bringing up a touchy topic,” she asserted, sounding honestly guilty even though you’d never dream of blaming her for something that she couldn’t have known and wasn’t her fault.

“You’re clearly upset, can we please go get burgers or something instead and talk about this?” Chan was pleading to a rational part of you that had shut down the moment Hyunjin had banged the car door shut with anger. Of course you were upset, but no amount of talking or fast food could change that.

“Chan is right, this party isn’t important, let’s watch Netflix and trash talk Hyunjin instead,” Chaeryoung reinforced Chan’s arguments, but you weren’t even close to agreeing. Hyunjin had ruined enough of your time by making you upset about him. Turning around with an angry huff you shook your head decidedly.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern but it’s fine. I don’t care. Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.”

You found Seonghwa on the first level balcony, a laughably large space with various lounge chairs, a fire crackling in an iron brazier, and its own, second bar. There would definitely be no one leaving sober for a lack of alcohol.

Seonghwa was lounged on one of the lush looking pillows covering the beach chairs, surrounded by a few other people. You hadn’t been introduced to them but you knew them at least by sight, every single one of them infamous on campus in their own regard. Plastering the brightest smile you could muster on your face you crossed the balcony, side-stepping a few drunk people dancing until you reached Seonghwa, who was already looking at you with a dazzling smile, seemingly actually happy to see you.

“Hey angel. I see you put on the fancy shirt for me,” you glanced down, taking short notice of the shirt Seonghwa was talking about, only to confirm with a nod and a grin.

“Of course. I knew you, at least, would appreciate the effort I took.”

He was still wearing that big goopy grin, but you could tell even in the dim light that his eyes were a little unfocused. If the red cups littering the floor around them and the smell of weed were any indication, you weren’t surprised why.

“C’mere,” Seonghwa drawled, one arm wrapping around your leg so he could pull you towards him. You caught yourself by the edge of the lounge chair before you fell like an idiot, letting him move you on his lap until he was satisfied with the way every part of you was pressed against him as close as possible.

“I get horny when I’m high,” he giggled as an explanation, but probably also as an excuse, when his hand immediately slipped under your shirt to draw small circles on the skin of your hips. So, you might have not come here with the intention of letting this thing with Seonghwa progress anywhere further than indulging his nerdier side, but you were confused, hurt, and suddenly letting him comfort you didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Your evening had been ruined enough already, so it was easy to simply let yourself sink into his touch, enjoying the simplicity of spending time in someone’s company where you didn’t have to think beyond how you’d get home with him. Maybe the fact that Seonghwa’s and Hyunjin’s social circles didn’t really mingle, so the chances of seeing the latter again tonight were slim, did help.

Seonghwa was introducing you to his friends, Wooyoung and San, whose names you had already known by their reputation alone, but pretended not to out of politeness. You thought you were doing great, making polite conversation and laughing at their jokes even though most of them had some context you couldn’t understand since they were a pretty tight-knit group, and had been for years. But apparently you weren’t as smooth as you had thought you were because Seonghwa was pinching your side - a couple of times, judging by the impatient notion of the movement - to rip you out of your thoughts and get your attention.

“Who upset you angel?”

You froze for a second, whipping your head around to look at him, his stupidly perfect eyebrows scrunched in concern despite how drunk he clearly was.

“It’s nothing.” You waved it off, not wanting to get into it. You were looking for distractions, not yet another person to lament your stupid boy troubles to. “I just had a dumb fight on the way here and it’s pissing me off, although I’m trying not to let it.”

You tried to keep it short, not wanting to burden Seonghwa with things he probably didn’t care about. You got along, yeah, but you were far from calling him a friend already and there was probably no way he actually wanted to hear about your problems, despite looking concerned. And even if he did, you had barely talked about them with your closest friends, so you sure as hell wouldn’t with a near stranger, when all you wanted was to get said fight off your mind.

Seonghwa seemed to contemplate your words for a moment – or maybe he was just trying to make sense of them because he looked and sounded positively wasted and high off his ass. You weren’t quite sure which one it was until he bit his lip, hesitant to speak up.

“Just say whatever you want to say, Hwa. It can’t be worse than some things I’ve heard today already,” you sighed, encouraging him to speak up.

“That fight… was it with that Hyunjin guy?”

For a moment you were too shocked to reply, staring at him open-mouthed because if even his drunk and dazed mind had managed to come to that conclusion then you didn’t even want to know how much of this conflict had gotten through to your friends other than Chan.

“It’s- yeah. With him,” you ended lamely, not really knowing what else to say and since he’d already guessed it you might as well go with the truth. After all it had been Seonghwa who had been there last time when you had fought too, so he probably knew more than the people close to you did.

“I take it you did not talk it out?” he implored further, referring to the last fight where you had told Hyunjin that you would talk about it when he was sober, which ended up not happening. You only shook your head in confirmation to his words.

“Can I be honest with you?” the way he asked you knew that if you said no he wouldn’t hold it against you, but you had gone through so much shit the last weeks some part of you wanted someone to be honest and blunt.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, leaning on your arm to sit yourself up a bit higher and look at him properly.

“Truth is, I’ve been wondering how you spend so much time with all these guys and haven’t ended up fucking at least one of them.”

You had expected many things, but you hadn’t expected Seonghwa to say that. You burst out laughing, looking at him incredulously.

“Because we’re friends,” you emphasized, shaking your head in disbelief. “Nothing against friends fucking, but it’s not like that. They don’t think of me that way.”

Your mind immediately went back to the conversation you’d had with Chan and how he’d so nonchalantly mentioned that some of your friends had, indeed, been crushing on you at some point. And you were quite the liar as well, seeing as how you very much had wanted to sleep with Hyunjin, as friends or as more, so at some point at least one person in the group had thought of someone else that way.

Seonghwa seemed to have drawn a similar conclusion.

“Well, one of them clearly does.”

Obviously he meant Hyunjin, and you didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse that even your hook-up was under the impression that Hyunjin apparently was into you. Gnawing on your lip, you didn’t know what to tell him. You hadn’t sorted anything out and you had come to Seonhwa to have a good time, not to talk about your feelings for another guy.

“Tell you what,” Seonghwa finally sighed, seeing how you weren’t going to answer. He was sitting himself up straighter, gently pushing you off his lap and setting you on the space left on the lounge chair next to him. “I think you should go and clear your head. Whatever it is you guys got going on, you haven’t figured it out. As much as I’d enjoy sleeping with you, getting you to ride me is not the solution you seem to think it is. It’s only gonna make you feel more miserable. I’m a big boy, I can handle rejection. And I’m still holding you to that Star Wars marathon, sex or not.”

You couldn’t reply, still processing how drunk and high Seonghwa ended up giving you bette advice than anything you managed to come up with all evening.

“I like you. That’s precisely why I’m not going to sleep with you, because I think you should talk to that Hyunjin dude and at least give him a piece of your mind for being an absolute asshole to someone as stunning as you.”

If you had expected a lot, you had not expected this from Seonghwa. Despite the slur in his words he was making sense and it scared you how reasonable he was being, when he could’ve just used the chance to get you on his dick faster. But he was right, sleeping with him had sounded really smart in your head, but while the sex would make you feel good, the emotional mess you were in would only get worse. And while he didn’t seem to mind, it wasn’t quite fair to use him as a way to try and get over your crush.

“God, I wish I would have fallen for you instead, this is so much easier,” you cursed, gesturing between the two of you and Seonghwa shook his head with a snort.

“You don’t want that, angel, I’m here for good sex but there’s a lot of commitment issues to unpack.”

You rolled your eyes, whacking him on the arm. Now that you had, if not verbally, admitted to him, of all people, that you were in love with Hyunjin, everything somehow seemed much clearer and simpler.

“So, what am I supposed to do now, Hwa?” you implored, hoping that in his infinite weed-induced wisdom Seonghwa would be able to help you yet again, but it seemed his resources of deep advice were all dried up.

“I don’t know, get wasted? Have some really hot angry sex with that guy? Punch him in the dick? Although if it’s the latter I want to watch, ‘kay? Twitch stream it or something.”

You laughed incredulously, not missing how Seonghwa easily managed to make you feel much more relaxed and at ease even though the topic at hand never failed to make you anxious.

“I can’t believe I’m taking advice from you,” you quickly leant in, pecking him on the lips softly and very much innocently one last time, noticing the small pout on Seonghwa’s lips.

“If it goes south, my bed is still free.”

You threw him a thumbs up and rolled your eyes before politely excusing yourself from his friends. Despite what he’d suggested you weren’t about to look for Hyunjin right away. You definitely were not about to punch him in the dick – at least not yet. Rather, you were looking for Chan so he could take you home. Seonghwa’s words did make a lot of sense but tonight simply wasn’t the right time or the right place.

The house was bigger than you had guessed from the outside, a downright labyrinth and after declining a worrying amount of dubious drinks and strolling for thirty minutes without ever seeing the host himself you finally managed to at least find Chan. He hadn’t been picking up his phone so you’d had to resign to searching for him the old fashioned way, relieved when you finally spotted his mop of blond hair and his comforting voice in what seemed to be yet another guest room. He was sprawled on the bed with another familiar face sitting at the foot of the bed, head leant on the mattress. If you had thought Seonghwa was high you hadn’t been ready for Chan and Seokjin. You knew they were both older and had been friends for a while, Chan always ending up at the bar during karaoke Wednesdays to chat with Jin, but you hadn’t known what these two were usually up to when they spent time together. Hyunjin was there too, lying on a sofa with his phone in hand, but you were almost proud you didn’t even spare him more than a glance, almost staying indifferent.

Not knowing if Chan was in any headspace to have a conversation you decide to try your luck.

“Hey Chan, have you seen Chaeryoung?” you weren’t sure whether you should even expect an answer, but since Chan clearly wasn’t ready to take care of you in any way you decided your friend was the next safe option before you’d actually go back to Seonghwa and do something you might regret.

To your surprise he did mumble something in reply that vaguely sounded like ‘Hongjoong’, which you took as a good sign. Maybe this evening had gone the way it was supposed to for your friend at least. It also meant you couldn’t count on her now, but that was alright if it meant she was getting with the guy she’d been drooling over for months.

However, Chan couldn’t possibly drive you, which also meant you were pretty much out of options. As if he was reading your thoughts Chan slowly sat up, soft smile and eyes hazy, holding the blunt he was smoking in your direction.

“You look like you need this,” he offered as an explanation and you cringed a little inwardly at how obvious you were being time and time again.

“That’s very sweet, but no thanks,” you declined, knowing he only meant well, because he always had your best interest in mind. Contemplating what to do now you fell silent for a moment, feeling Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on you. You were hoping he was too out of it to notice that ever since you’d left the car earlier things had become even more of a mess, but you clearly underestimated him.

“What’s up? Wait why are you not with-“ even high he easily interpreted your panicked glare as a sign to shut up. You didn’t want to bring this topic up in front of Hyunjin yet again for the second time tonight, although since he was in the room as well you also couldn’t very well explain to Chan what had happened. Your mind was rattling with ways to come up with an explanation that would be so nondescript it wouldn’t give away your predicament, but it wasn’t necessary, because Chan caught up scarily fast, sending a quick glance towards Hyunjin before focusing back on you.

“You wanna go home?” You did, but Chan was halfway to getting up and there was no way you’d let him make such a phenomenal mistake and drive in this state just so you’d feel better.

“It’s fine Chan, don’t worry. I’ll just call an Uber or something,” you smiled softly to reassure him. “I can probably find someone to drop me off at campus and walk the res-“

“I can take her, you’re not driving tonight anyways Chan,” Hyunjin interrupted, a statement that didn’t leave any room for protest. It didn’t, at least, for Chan, who spoke up before you could decline.

“That’s a fantastic idea!” His enthusiasm was almost worrying, as was the speed with which he was throwing his car keys in Hyunjin’s direction, who caught them easily. The grin on Chan’s face was clearly meant to be conspiratory but he was anything but subtle and you were questioning who he was even directing it to, because you were definitely not on board with this plan of his to reconcile the two of you.

You were still scrambling for an excuse they would let slide but Hyunjin was already in front of you with the keys lazily dangling from one finger. It was only then it filtered through that he, too, was completely sober, just as you were.

“Alright. Let’s go home,” you admitted with a defeated sigh, hoping that all the horrible scenarios you were already making up in your head wouldn’t be coming true. Hyunjin did seem civil and calm, if not almost like the Hyunjin you knew, but it wasn’t enough to make you forgive and forget all the instances he had shown a whole different side of him and never apologized for it.

You were almost grateful he didn’t put his hand on the small of your back when he led you through the crowds of dancing and drunk people as he usually would have, because you weren’t sure you could have handled it.

The car ride was by far one of the worst ones you had ever experienced, which said a lot considering you had thought the same thing earlier tonight yet were already proven wrong. Earlier had been awkward and uncomfortable but at least Chaeryoung and Chan had been there. Now it was only Hyunjin with you in the passenger seat next to him, the silence spanning so awkwardly and tensely it felt almost tangible. You couldn’t shake the underlying feeling that, just like you, Hyunjin was itching to say something yet for some reason the words wouldn’t come. While you could usually read him you hadn’t been able to do that in weeks. You couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t talking. He didn’t seem like he wanted another confrontation, but you also knew that kind words or apologies took far more bravery, something you yourself currently couldn’t muster either.

You’d never been so glad to see your dorm building when Hyunjin finally parked the car. You mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ for driving you home before you almost fled from the car, thinking that you had finally evaded that awfully tense mood between the two of you. You were proven wrong when you heard another car door fall shut behind you, Hyunjin’s steps unmistakably hurrying after you. You squeezed your eyes shut shortly, taking a deep breath to brace yourself before you halted and turned around to face him. He looked so devastatingly beautiful with his long hair, smoky eyes and the smooth skin of his stomach visible. It hurt all the more because of the situation you were in and you wanted him to leave, certain that you couldn’t handle this.

“You can’t park here,” you stated dismissively, nodding towards where he’d left Chan’s car.

“I don’t care,” he huffed, but you thought that he couldn’t possibly be worked up from running a few steps after you, so it had to be something else. “If I don’t do this now it might never happen.”

You knew, of course, what he meant with ‘this’. The talk that was long overdue. What you didn’t know was what he was going to say, and if what he would say would make it worse. But you couldn’t just shut him down, not when you still wanted him back in your life. You terribly missed him and even you weren’t self-sabotaging enough to interfere with something that could possibly fix this. You did turn around and start walking again, guessing that if he wanted this talk he’d follow, and if he didn’t… you didn’t want to go there, even just hypothetically.

You could hear his footsteps distinctly behind you although he wasn’t talking until you were already walking up the staircase to your dorm.

“Why aren’t you with Seonghwa?”

You almost stumbled, ready to explode but the rational part of your brain that was thankfully still working told you that unlike the last couple of times, there was no maliciousness in his tone. You tried to calm yourself with a few deep breaths before answering.

“Would you like me to be?” You almost managed not to sound snappy.

“What do you think?” his answer came almost immediately, but you weren’t having it. He wanted to talk, so he would talk.

“No, Hyunjin, that’s not how this goes.”

He fell silent again and this time you weren’t sure if he’d lost his resolve. He still didn’t talk when you’d reached your door and unlocked it, stopping in the doorframe indecisively. Your hopes of finally fixing this were dwindling fast, but you weren’t planning on letting him in if this was all you would get. You should have just left, but one look at his eyes, incredibly sad, were enough for you to find yourself talking instead.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Hwa told me to get my head clear and talk to you truthfully. Which is good advice for the both of us, I think. Except we barely even talk anymore, so why did I think that would work?”

You didn’t really expect an answer, even though you knew you were desperately hoping for one. Neither did you leave, even though Hyunjin wasn’t saying anything and you felt an empty pit in your stomach open up. You didn’t know what else to say, and you wanted to leave him there but doing so hurt you probably as much as him, if not more, so you found yourself rooted to the spot despite better judgement. When you couldn’t take it anymore it was you who spoke again, and you were surprised to hear yourself sob when the words finally tumbled over your lips.

“Hyunjin, what happened to us?”

“I don’t know.” This time the answer came immediately, although meek and silent and barely a mumble, and it made you find your resolve again at last.

“You know damn well. You shouldn’t have fingered me on a park bench because you were horny, called me a box to tick on your bucket list and then pretended it didn’t happen.”

“I’m such an idiot.” He sounded thoroughly regretful, but you weren’t done yet now that you’d started.

“Yes, you are. You ruined our friendship because you tried pretending that mistake we made didn’t happen. I was ready to face that but you made me believe you don’t fucking remember.” Technically he had never told you if he had been lying and did remember after all, but by now you were certain even without that confirmation. Him not denying it was as good as one.

“And instead of owning up to it you turn into someone I barely even recognize, hurting me with petty words whenever you, I don’t even know, get jealous? Instead of just talking to me?!”

You were fuming and hurting and you felt wetness coating your cheeks now. The sight of Hyunjin before you would have broken your heart if he hadn’t already done that. He looked as miserable as you felt, hands clenched by his sides, his eyes portraying the same pain you had gone through for the last weeks.

“I thought I’d ruin our friendship if I told you I liked you.”

“So instead you fingered me to get it out of your system? Is that what that was?”

You had heard his confession loud and clear in the quiet hallways, despite his mumbling, but you couldn’t focus on it right now. Chan had been right, Seonghwa had been right, seemingly everyone but you had seemed to know and been correct in their assumptions. But what good did that do when him liking you meant him hurting you?

“I was scared! It would be awkward for you to have a friend be in love with you. You like guys like Yugyeom, or Jaehyun or Hwa-“ he didn’t quite manage to keep the venom out of his voice at the last one “-not me! I was scared out of my mind you would reject me and I’d lose you. But I was drunk that night, and you kept talking about other guys and I realized that eventually I’d lose you to one of them. I couldn’t bear the thought. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but you kissed me back and I thought if that’s all I can have then I’ll take it.”

Hyunjin was talking almost too fast to follow at this point, but for you every single word still felt like forever. It sounded too familiar, too much of a mirror of your own thoughts and feelings. Both of you thinking rushed, drunken kisses were all you could ever have. Both of you dreading the moment the other would be happy with someone else.

“I immediately regretted it. It’s not what I want from you. No, hold on, of course it’s what I want from you. But not like that. I want to hold you after and tell you that I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. God, you’re always so beautiful. I think… I think in a way losing you now showed me that I couldn’t take it.” He hesitated for a moment, stepping one step closer only to hastily move away again as if he barely could hold himself back. “I’m so sorry. I’m gonna leave. I’m- I’m so sorry I hurt you and said all those things to you. You deserve better than as shit of a friend as I have been.”

You were sobbing uncontrolled now, tears filling your eyes so much it was difficult to keep looking at Hyunjin with how much your vision was swimming. You realized he was misunderstanding your reaction because he was clearly as clueless as you and he didn’t understand that you were melting in every way possible because of his words, so you pulled him in, hands clenched in his shirt, face buried in his chest and thankful he immediately reciprocated the hug without hesitation, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight.

“Hyunjin, I’ve been in love with you for the past three years,” you finally confessed, the words finally breaking free after having been caged in for so long. Your voice was suffocated by his shirt but you were sure he’d heard you just fine because he stiffened, fingers digging into your back.

“Can you say that again?” his voice was shaky and you giggled through your sobs, leaning back a bit with newfound confidence to look at him.

“I’m in love with you,” you’d thought those words so many times, but you never expected to be saying them to Hyunjin, especially not without feeling any fear of rejection.

“I- I think I should come in,” Hyunjin stuttered, disbelief flooding his voice but he was automatically stepping closer again, the softest smile on his face while his thumb gently wiped over your cheek, smudging the tears more than anything. You agreed, stepping back and finally letting him in. You closed the door after him carefully, discreetly wiping at your tears because you suddenly felt a bit embarrassed at how much his words had made you cry. He didn’t settle down anywhere, even though he’d been here a thousand times and usually made himself at home easily, so you rounded him and sat on the couch, hoping he’d follow your lead. You pulled your knees in and although he sat down in a safe distance, no part of him touching you, it was more of a tentative distance like your confessions were too fresh to quite believe them yet.

“Why did you always try and set me up with other girls?” he finally asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I never saw you hook-up with anyone and I just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

“Every time you did that I was even more certain you’d never want me,” he spoke with a desperate frustration that would have been funny if you didn’t realize just how much you had been sabotaging yourself over the years. You had had good intentions, but you’d only accidentally been pushing him away. “Didn’t it hurt to see me with Chaeyoung? Because it sure as hell hurt to see you with Seonghwa.”

“Yeah, I almost didn’t notice,” you couldn’t help put supply sarcastically, not angry at him anymore for his stupid jealous behavior.

“Look, I’m so fucking sorry I behaved like an idiot.” You nodded in agreement, although you were smiling at him softly.

“Of course it hurt. But I told myself it’s what would help me get over you.”

“Did it help?”

“Hyunjin, if I knew how to get over you don’t you think I’d done that in the last three years?”

He looked at you for a moment, biting his lip and you could see he was contemplating something. It became clear when his eyes dropped to your lips for just the fraction of a second, but long enough for you to notice.

“Please just kiss me, I know you’re thinking about it.”

His hands were on your cheeks in a heartbeat, lips pressed against yours without hesitation, the distance between you forgotten.

“It’s all I can think about,” his words were mumbled into your kiss and you felt them as much as you heard them. Even though he was kissing you softly there was an urgency to it that resonated in how you were gripping onto his shirt, as if you both had been craving each other so desperately that you were scared of ever letting go again.

Your soft kisses turned hungry the second his teeth grazed your lower lip, your hands clenching and pulling him closer. You were utterly overwhelmed, your head swimming but you never wanted to stop kissing him again. His teeth and tongue were caressing your lips until you were panting softly and he used the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, finally deepening the kiss.

You almost moaned, the kiss so much more intense than it had been the last time because you both knew you had been fantasizing about this for too long. His hands, initially caressing your cheeks, slipped down to your neck and into your hair. The feeling had you shaking with anticipation and you tangled your own fingers through his hair. You pulled a little, just to see the reaction you could elicit, and when he groaned you completely disregarded holding back. The sound was sweet like honey washing down your body and you pulled your leg over his lap. His hands immediately grabbed onto your thighs and you yelped when he lifted you up with him, stumbling a little.

“Bedroom,” he stated, his voice a bit breathless and you could only nod, a husky and surprisingly needy ‘yes’ drowned out when he leant in to peck your lips again. He knew the way to your bedroom by heart, settling down on your bed a bit clumsily while pulling you on his lap again immediately. Wiggling a little to readjust your thighs on either side of his you relished in his reaction, a subtle shiver washing over his body. You moved your hips again, more purposely this time, grinding yourself down on his crotch in a slow rhythm. You could tell he was holding back by the way his knuckles pressed into the bedsheets turned white from clenching so hard. It only urged you on, your hands resting on his shoulders for stability while you pressed your thighs tighter, rolling your hips against him so closely you could feel him twitch inside his pants against your center. For a short moment you contemplated making him come just like that because watching his reactions you were sure you could, but Hyunjin stopped you, his hands settling on your hips when he finally managed to pull his thoughts together.

To your disappointment he readjusted you on his lap, moving you away from the hard bulge in his pants. You were pouting and he must have noticed because he chuckled, biting his plush bottom lip and moving some of the blonde strands already sticking to his forehead off his skin with one hand.

“Bunny, I’ve fantasized about sleeping with you so many times. I can’t come in my pants now.”

His words turned your pout into a giggle immediately, a hand dropping to his crotch and palming his bulge just enough to get a reaction out of him, his head falling back and focus lost again temporarily. His groans were the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard and you pushed him a little further, causing his self-restraint to crumble. Just the way your hands felt on him even through his pants was too much after he had dreamed about feeling you, having you touch him, so many times.

“Fuck. Fuck- you gotta stop, please,” his voice was somewhere between a groan and a whimper and you palmed him once more, not wanting to stop touching him before you gave in and stopping teasing, letting him catch his breath until he was looking at you again.

His eyes were flitting from your face to your body and back, as if he didn’t know which part of you to look at and it sent warm tingles all over your skin. His eyes were holding so much appreciation and warmth despite the fact that he was painfully hard, and you could tell he wanted to draw this out and savor every second he could finally have you on his lap and needy for him.

Even though you stopped touching him you couldn’t entirely stop teasing him. Grabbing onto the hem of your shirt you swiftly pulled it off, his gaze going to your chest immediately, still covered in a black bra.

His lip was pulled between his teeth again and you decided to push a step further, unclasping the bra and letting it slip off your arms and land on the floor.

The whimper falling over Hyunjin’s lips was divine. The hand still on your thighs was clenching, digging his fingers into your skin hard to resist the urge of ravishing you without holding back. You were driving him crazy with everything you did. The way you knew exactly how much you were testing his self-restraint, undressing on his lap, topless and nipples hard.

And as much as you loved his reactions, seeing how much you were affecting him even though you were barely doing anything, you could feel how wet you were and you were dying to have him touch you and fuck you into the mattress until your throat was raw from screaming his name.

You leant in, lips ghosting over his neck, hoping that your words would finally push him over the edge and kill his self-control.

“You can touch me, Hyunjin.” His name was a raspy breath on your lips, washing over his skin and his fingers clenched once more on your thigh before he was palming your tits. You bit down on his neck, his fingers pinching your nipple and eliciting a deliciously painful sensation. He clearly noticed, repeating the motion, teasing your hard nipples and caressing you until you were holding onto his shoulders again, arching into his hands, the kisses on his neck faltering.

“Hyunjin, you don’t need to hold back for my sake,” you whined, pushing him further, your voice not much above a whisper because you were so desperate to feel him. “You can do whatever you want to me. I trust you.”

The moment you said the words you realized it was true. You trusted him more than you had realized despite everything that had happened between you the last weeks. It was worth finally knowing that he ached as much for you as you had for him.

His reaction to your words wasn’t immediate. Instead he stilled for a second and or the shortest moment you were worried you might have done something wrong or overstepped some unknown line, but then his hand wrapped into the strands of your hair falling over your neck and Hyunjin pulled hard.

You gasped in surprise, the sting running straight to your center and causing your hips to buck, your neck bared to Hyunjin. But he completely ignored it, instead going straight to biting down your chest and finally sucking on your nipple. At the feeling of his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, tongue flicking over it, your brain shut down. A loud, raspy curse fell over your lips and it was the reaction that finally broke Hyunjin and made him throw all restraint away. The need to have you moan his name with his dick inside you was too overwhelming to draw this out, even if he planned to savor every moment as much as possible.

His hand ran up your thigh, diving under your skirt without hesitation and dropping to your wet panties, moving them aside easily. You didn’t have time to process what was going on before he had his fingers running up your slit and between your folds, coating them in your wetness enough so he wouldn’t hurt you, before he slipped both fingers into you.

It didn’t compare to last time, not by far. Either times you could feel he wanted you, but this time he was finger fucking you with the knowledge that you want him, you were wet for him and only for him and you trusted him. It made the curl of his fingers against your walls all the more delicious, wrecking your throat with moans.

“Open my pants,” he was barely forming a full sentence, focused on the way he was shoving his fingers deep inside you to feel you clench around him. “Need to be inside you.”

The words ran straight down between your legs and to his fingers pressing into you.

“Fuck, okay.” You weren’t sure if you were actually nodding or not, your fingers shaking when they settled on his belt, but you couldn’t manage much beyond fumbling with the buckle, fingers too weak and shaking too much to open it. You couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way he was fucking you open with his fingers, giving up after another clumsy attempt and slumping against Hyunjin instead. Your face was buried in his neck and when he pushed into you and spread his fingers you all but forgot anything but fucking yourself deeper onto his fingers. He met the movement of your hips, allowing you to pick the pace until you were a mess, his name etched into his skin with your voice repeatedly moaning it.

“Bunny, can you ride me, or do you want me on top?”

“Top,” you gasped out, clambering off of Hyunjin’s lap while he was slipping his fingers out of you. “Want you to fuck me.”

“God, you’re killing me,” Hyunjin cursed while fumbling a little himself to pull off his pants and underwear. You would have been glad about the payback of him struggling to get out of those tight pants after he’d tortured you with his looks all night, but right now you desperately wanted him, too much to care about any petty feelings.

He was already gripping the hem of that cursed top, eyes fully focused on you kneeling on your bed, and when he stilled you knew he caught on to how you were biting your lip to hold yourself back from saying something.

“Want me to keep this on?” His tone was way too cocky for how hard his dick was and how rattled he already looked, but somehow he still managed. You were still biting down on your lip, unwilling to admit just how much you liked that shirt on him but it wasn’t necessary. “Yeah, you do,” Hyunjin supplied instead with an impossibly cocky smirk, crawling up to you on your bed, surprising you when he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a stark contrast to how confidently he had been teasing you just a moment ago.

“Knew I could drive you crazy showing up in this shirt.”

And it was true, but it wasn’t even half the truth.

“Hyunjin, you always drive me crazy.” It wasn’t the words you had expected to come out of your mouth but it was true and you realized you liked telling him those things. Now that there was nothing to be scared of you wanted him to know just how much you liked him, just how much he was on your mind.

He didn’t respond, instead pushing you back onto the mattress and kissing you so deeply it left no doubt he felt just the same way.

The kiss was a tangle of tongue and teeth, biting on your lips and your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. Hyunjin’s own hand was on your waist to support you, and you could feel his length against your center. He was so incredibly close to slipping inside you, anticipation building in your stomach like liquid fire. You bucked your hips impatiently, causing him to moan into the kiss.

“Shit I don’t have a condom?” Hyunjin breathed, the words barely strung together, lips not separating from yours by more than a breath. “You okay with-“

“God, yes please.”

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this even though you were on birth control, but you wanted Hyunjin so much all your rational thoughts seemed to shut down around him.

It didn’t seem to be going much better for him either, because you had barely said the words when he finally pushed inside you. You were so wet it didn’t hurt at all, and he was stretching you just the right way, not quite painful but filling you up perfectly. Your hand was tangled in his hair, nails digging into his scalp slightly when he was fully settled inside you. He wasn’t moving, and through the haze in your mind you thought he was waiting for your okay until you looked at him and realized he wasn’t even focused on you, his eyes closed and shorter strands of hair falling in front of his face.

“Hyunjin,” you breathed, rolling your hips in emphasis because you desperately wanted him to move. He inhaled sharply, fingers on your hips digging into your skin.

“Hold on – wait. You feel so fucking good. I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle from slipping over your lips at the confession. Even with his dick inside you he managed to made your stomach flutter.

You gently slipped your hand from his hair, caressing his cheek and tucking the loose, sweaty strands of hair behind his ear.

“Take your time baby,” you softly spoke, the pet name flowing naturally, and you felt him shiver softly under your hands in response. “You already make me feel good like this.”

And you meant that, but the reassurance seemed to be enough because the next thing you knew was your nails digging into his shoulder blades when he almost bottomed out only to push back deep inside you. The gentleness from a second ago all but dissipated and when you’d told him you already felt good you hadn’t been prepared for just how good he could make you feel.

Hyunjin was leaning on his arms next to your head, lips ghosting down your neck, pushing into you at a relentless rhythm. You were trying to match his thrusts but he was fucking into you so good, hitting a spot that made the muscles in your legs contract.

You gave up after a couple more thrust, melting into the mattress instead, clutching onto Hyunjin with weak arms while he kept hitting that sweet spot perfectly with every push into you.

Hyunjin, ever the vocal person, kept gasping your name, slipping in praises matched with his thrusts and you couldn’t do much beyond reveling in the feeling of him fucking you into the mattress so well your whole body felt like it was on fire. Warmth was tingling all over your skin and you couldn’t even gather the words to tell him how well he was fucking you, how close you were.

But he could tell by the way you were gasping, moans swallowed by how breathless you were, clenching around his dick every time he rutted into you until he was struggling to hold back his own orgasm. His hand slipped between you, finger drawing soft circles on your clit and it was enough to finally topple you over the edge and have you see stars.

“Baby I’m gonna- fuck-“ your words turned into whimpers when your orgasm washed over you, skin tingling all over and blood rushing in your ears.

“’M gonna pull out-“ Hyunjin started and you were sure your nails were leaving marks by how hard you held him back in response, keeping his body pressed up against yours, nipples rubbing against his shirt with delicious friction.

“No, please come inside, wanna feel you come inside me,” you were whining, the sound foreign to your own ears but it was enough to convince Hyunjin, whose groan next to your ear was enough to send another wave of shivers racking down your body. You could barely register the unsteady rhythm he picked up again, dick twitching inside you when you felt yourself clench around him again, waves of your orgasm running through your body and finally pulling him over with you. You felt his warm cum spill inside you, his face pressing into your skin, a loud moan etched into your skin, followed by a string of praise. Hyunjin was telling you how good you felt, how much he loved fucking you, punctuated by uneven thrusts carrying him through his orgasm.

You didn’t know how long it took until you could gather any coherent thought again. Your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, Hyunjin slumped on top of you with his face still buried in your neck and breathing hard. He was still inside you, his length gone soft and you knew if he pulled out you’d be making a mess of your bedsheets but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret having him come inside you, not when you had never felt more satisfied and thoroughly fucked out.

“Promise you’ll ride me next time, bunny?” Hyunjin almost purred against your skin, still out of breath but his hands were already drawing soft patterns on your chest, small kisses pressed against your neck.

“You’ve been thinking about that a lot, haven’t you?” you giggled, trying to suppress a shiver when his thumb brushed your nipple. “I can’t make promises if you make me this weak every time, Hyunjin. I feel like my legs are jelly.”

“Mh, did I fuck you that well?” Despite his crude words his tone was soft and teasing and you could tell by his tone that he was smiling. It made the butterflies in your stomach flutter yet again, and it seemed like they hadn’t calmed down ever since Hyunjin had confessed his feelings earlier. “I didn’t even try, I wonder what would happen if I did?”

When he pulled out of you you were almost embarrassed by the whimper escaping your mouth. You were still way too sensitive, and the feeling of his soft dick slipping out of you, followed by his cum was almost too much to take.

Your hands slipped off his back when he moved up to his knees, readjusting his position so he could run his lips down your collarbones and chest. Realizing where this was going when his hair was tickling your stomach and his hand trailed down to the inside of your thigh, that point already so sensitive you felt an involuntary shiver run through you, you quickly carded your hand through his hair to stop him.

“Hyunjin I don’t think I can-“ He stopped you with a wolfish grin, his fingers wandering from your thigh to your center, ghosting over it so softly he was barely touching you, but even that was already too much. “Fuck, Hyunjin, I’m so sensitive.”

“Want me to stop?” Despite his intentions concern laced through his voice and you knew he would stop if you said so right now. You didn’t say anything, just weakly shook your head while you felt his grin ghost over your skin, down your stomach until his teeth grazed your inner thighs, a hard shudder raking over your body. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take much but you wanted this so bad, didn’t want to let go of Hyunjin, for him to stop treating you as if you were the most precious thing on earth to him.

When he finally licked a soft stripe along your center, tasting himself and you mixed from your orgasms you almost thought you would black out. You were dizzy from your first orgasm, breath already raspy and Hyunjin’s lips and tongue were almost too much. He made sure not to run his tongue over your clit, careful not to send you in overdrive already. Instead, he resorted to soft kitten licks that only mixed his saliva with the mess he had already left between your legs and made you clench around nothing. His fingers were caressing your thighs, holding you in place just enough so you couldn’t clamp your legs shut.

You were gasping, struggling to keep up because all you could feel was the tingling sensations Hyunjin was sending all over your body with his tongue. You vaguely registered that you were whimpering, small little sounds that mixed with his name and your nails were digging into the bedsheets.

You weren’t even sure you could come again already, not when you felt too sensitive to handle Hyunjin’s tongue between your legs, but you were proven wrong when he finally let his mouth run up to your clit.

“Ohmygod I-“ you couldn’t finish the sentence properly, not sure where you would have gone with it either way, because Hyunjin’s lips were wrapped around your clit and he was sucking and you were seeing stars and you couldn’t hear how he was praising you over your desperate gasps.

It took a while before you realized Hyunjin was splattering your neck and chest with soft kisses, meant to caress and help you calm down until you weren’t shaking anymore, his hands lazily wrapped around your waist.

“You good?” he finally asked with a sweet smile when your gaze was finally focused on him, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes that he knew just fine that you were more than good thanks to him.

You took a moment to let your eyes run over him and take in every detail, the loose strands of black hair fluttering into his face and sticking to his forehead. His eyes, sparkling with admiration that made your heart melt. The beauty mark under his eye, his softly sloped nose. His lips, swollen and glistening wetly, pulled into a smile that was so much Hyunjin that you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his mouth.

“What do you think?” you mused in response finally, pressing another quick peck to his lips, a smile gracing yours when he whined when you pulled away.

You thought that you could stay like this with him forever, just Hyunjin and you together, so clearly head over heels for each other that you didn’t understand how both of you hadn’t seen it sooner. But the moment was broken up when the front door banged open so unceremoniously you could almost feel the dent in the wall, and your name was shouted through the dorm room way louder than it should be in the middle of the night.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, scrambling out from under Hyunjin, grasping for something to pull on and settling on his shirt because it was the first thing you could grab that would cover not just your chest but the entirety of the sticky mess he had left between your legs. Not that covering it up would discard any doubt of what you had just done. It was still highly uncomfortable and you were pulling down the shirt over your legs as far as it would go from where you were sitting, while Hyunjin was desperately trying to put on his underwear without falling and breaking his neck. He looked even worse than you probably, everything from his hair to his lips giving away that he’d just had sex, if him only being in his underwear wouldn’t have already done so. But there was no time to fix anything else before Chaeryoung, followed by Felix, Seungmin and Chan burst into your room, all of them cramming in together. Both Chaeryoung and Chan were very clearly coming straight from the party, one drunk and the other still very stoned, but Felix and Seungmin had clearly come to pick them up. They were completely sober and thus assessed the situation in front of them way faster than the other two.

Felix had the decency to at least blush, although he still didn’t hold back the grin sneaking on his face. Seungmin, much worse, fished money out of his pocket and casually handed it to Chan.

“Bro, I told you I’m not betting on this!” the other replied, his whole reaction lacking gravity because he was just ridiculously calm even though his words sounded like he would have protested stronger under different circumstances.

Seungmin just shrugged and pocketed his money again, but you didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he had clearly wanted to bet on whether you were sleeping with Hyunjin or not, because Chaeryoung finally showed her very belated reaction by simply screeching at a volume that was nothing but irritating and could be interpreted in many ways. It almost drowned out the beeping of Seungmin’s phone, who nonchalantly turned the screen towards you and Hyunjin so you could see the messages in the group chat.

“Can’t believe you two were even worse than Jisung and Karaoke Girl. Jeongin says ‘fucking finally’ by the way.”

You didn’t need to read the messages to know that everyone in your group knew about you and Hyunjin before you yourself had even properly processed the entire night, but it was just as well. You had already been annoyingly touchy before, and this way at least they had time to prepare for the fact that there was no way you would keep your hands off each other ever again now.

#hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin #guys im SO sorry i initially forgot about the taglist #i was posting this at work when my boss wasn't in the room lmao i was STRESSED #i hope i didnt forget anyone!!

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eoieopda · 11 months

Text

menace (pjm) — pt. vi

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 6/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Genre: Smut + Fluff Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 6k+ Summary: This Valentine’s Day looks a lot different than the last one. AUs: Older brother’s best friend, fuck buddies that hate(d) each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer, Jimin is so soft omg, ✨vulnerability✨, so much kissing wtf who am i?, nipple play, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), DID I SAY SOFTNESS? A/N: Thank youuuuuu to everyone that stuck with me and these two idiots until the very end 💕 If you get lonely now that this is over, check out the rest of my masterlist. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

It was odd, starting over with someone you’d known longer than nearly everyone else in your life. Jimin wasn’t a stranger by any means; he’d always been present, life running parallel to yours, but you’d never truly seen him up close.

Not accurately, anyway.

When you were younger, the pedestal you put him on kept the sun in your eyes. You’d have to squint to see his shortcomings, but you never did. Maybe that was one of yours, willful blindness. As far as you knew then — or, rather, as far as you bothered to look — Jimin had none. All he had was a bright, white light.

After that pedestal crumbled and Icarus took a swan-dive to the sub-basement of your expectations, the shadows down there warped the flaws you finally recognized. A trick of the light, they exaggerated every shitty thing you thought you saw and made them all worse. Scarier, even. Worth hating.

Once you finally allowed him to exist on equal footing, you realized that Jimin wasn’t made to be viewed in such high contrast. He wasn’t the monochromatic figure you’d mythologized, not two-dimensional. In reality, he was a prism refracting a thousand different, complicated colors that you hadn’t been giving him due credit for.

The first shade you discovered was the one that broke your brain the most. Jimin — the only person you knew that never responded to anyone’s calls or texts — wasn’t actually as solitary as he seemed. Really, the only thing he hated more than being by himself was having to admit that fact to anyone, especially you.

So, instead of calling to invite you along on his errand runs, he started showing up at your door to ask, “You’re not busy right now, are you?”

And just like that, without meaning to, you learned his routine. Another shade.

Every other Sunday, you’d wake up a little earlier than usual. No matter how tired or hungover you were, you would crawl out of your bed, into your well-functioning shower, and make yourself presentable. Then, when you no longer looked like a hobgoblin, you’d sit on your couch with your tea.

None of it was a conscious decision — waiting in the nearest seat to your front door, angling yourself so you could keep an eye on the driveway — at least, not at first. In fact, you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your newly-acquired therapist pointed it out.

“It sounds like you’re making space in your life for him, brick by brick.”

You laughed it off when she said it, but as weeks flew by, you finally had to concede that she was right. She was right about something else, too: you hadn’t been viewing yourself fairly, either.

“Cellophane can be iridescent, too, if you hold it right.”

Whatever shades of your own that you uncovered, you gradually learned to let Jimin see, too. He picked up on all of your intricacies much faster than you did — because of course he did — and unlike you, he didn’t stumble upon revelations by surprise. He didn’t muddle through your less-pretty shades by trial and error, like you did. To the contrary, he had an unexpected knack for anticipating your reactions, and he planned accordingly.

Everything he did was purposeful, from his choice of words to his actions. Like exhuming his phone from his pocket — “only because it’s you” — to let you know if he was running late to plans you’d made. It was rare that he didn’t show up on time, but whenever he couldn’t, he’d call to promise that he really was on his way. And he always was, no matter how shitty the weather was, or how much he might’ve wanted an extra hour of sleep.

Jimin and all his shades showed up for you.

On Christmas, when Seokjin’s part-time girlfriend threw a dinner party without knowing what the fuck she’d signed up for. You were three-quarters through a bottle of wine before you were pulled in to take over meal preparations with Seokjin; and although Jimin was mostly useless in front of a stove, he was good at fetching whatever you’d need next without you having to point to it. He was even better at keeping your respective glasses full, which felt even more important. Washing dishes after the fact wasn’t all that bad with him there, also drunk off his face, drying them.

On New Years’ Eve, when Jimin was too sick to join the bar crawl but still set an alarm to wake up and call you — right at midnight. You stepped out onto a snow-slicked sidewalk in order to hear him, disappointing the hell out of the girl whose lips wanted to kiss you into the new year. You ignored her pout, ignored the chill in the air, and focused on the way Jimin’s raspy voice had dropped an octave. He was asleep when you swung by shortly after with a box of tissues and a bottle of decongestants, but that didn’t matter; his spare key wasn’t well hidden, either.

And again — now — on Valentine’s Day, when you both decided to blow off Seokjin’s deranged, annual Parent Trap scenario.

Sprawled out on his couch like you owned the place, you scrolled idly through Netflix’s home page with your face scrunched. The hand not holding the remote dipped down into the bag of kkokalcorn chips resting on your chest.

“You’ve got an identity crisis in your watch history, Jimin,” you yelled out to him, hoping he’d hear your teasing clearly from where he stood in his kitchen. “I’m having trouble believing that you’re not actually a middle-aged white woman.”

At this, he stopped rummaging through his refrigerator and stood straight up to glare at you. His eyes and mouth all flattened into matching, straight lines.

You rattled off your findings, nudging him further. “The Notebook, Sleepless in Seattle —”

With every title you dropped, so did one of Jimin’s heavy footfalls. He was halfway to you, scowl growing, in the blink of an eye.

“10 Things I Hate About You?” You snorted. “Little too on the nose, don’t you think?”

Standing at the other side of his coffee table, he parked his hands on his hips and scoffed. “My choices are being criticized by an entire adult with corn-chip witch fingers? Are you kidding?”

Sheepishly, you pulled your hand from the kkokalcorn bag. He was correct; you had stuck your fingertips in the openings of the funnel-shaped chips. You wiggled them at him with a coy smile that made him roll his eyes. Satisfied, your mouth claimed the chip perched on the tip of your index finger.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the flash in his eyes just then was fondness.

You held the bag out to him, careful not to disrupt the rest of your manicure, and smiled to yourself when he accepted your offer. He tilted the bag and dumped a few of the chips into his open palm. With a small smile, he mused, “Haven’t had these since we were kids.”

That wave of nostalgia must have caught him in a riptide because he went quiet in a way that made you pause. You were about to speak up — to say what, you weren’t sure — but you promptly shut your mouth. Index and middle fingers now extended, he held out his hand to make a peace sign. Each fingertip had a small cone sitting crooked on top.

Jimin laughed unexpectedly, which almost made his already-crinkled eyes disappear completely. “Kinda look like little wizards.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the thumping in your chest just then was fondness.

After shaking your head to clear those thoughts, you realized that the little wizards weren’t holding the glass of hard cider he’d gone to his kitchen to refill. You pushed yourself to your feet with one hand and a playfully exaggerated groan, popping the remaining chips from your fingers into your mouth at once.

“Leaving already?”

He should’ve known better than to ask you a question while your mouth was full, but he didn’t. The explanation he received was therefore unintelligible. Head cocked curiously to the side, lips slightly parted, he tried to connect the dots. Just as soon as he started, he gave up and trailed after you.

Jimin didn’t stop until you did, right in front of his refrigerator. He was so close, in fact, that you accidentally hit him with the door as you pulled it open.

“Oh, shit!” You muttered, shutting the door again quickly.

Wincing, your gaze flitted over to assess the damage you’d done to the outside of his bicep with the metal corner of the door. On instinct, you reached out to run the pads of your fingers over the faint red mark blooming there. Goosebumps spread in the wake of your touch, but you didn’t feel that same phantom chill. Just something electric that sparked against your fingertips.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said gently. “I don’t bruise like you do.”

In the moment of silence that followed, you felt compelled to lift your eyes but not your hand. Unless you were imagining things, he leaned into your touch, just slightly. Not enough to see, but enough to feel.

It’d crossed your mind a thousand times since you walked through his front door. With that throwaway statement, Jimin confirmed he’d been thinking about it, too — about who you both were on this date last year. About the way you’d only ever let him treat you roughly because anything sweeter threatened the distance you were trying to keep. About the bruises given with no chance to kiss them better.

You weren’t that person anymore, and neither was he.

“Jimin,” you started.

It was the farthest along in your sentence that your voice would let you go.

After the million baby steps you’d taken in his direction and the healing you’d allow yourself to do, you were still scared to show your cards. Now, you’d seen him in technicolor. Now, if you fucked things up, you’d never be able to go back to black and white.

What if you fuck things up again?

Jimin sensed your hesitation, but he didn’t accept it. Instead, he closed the distance so slowly that your hand wasn’t disrupted from where it rested on his bicep. His hands found you just as easily. One made its home at the small of your back while the other cupped the side of your face.

With a whisper lighter than air, he asked, “If I kiss you, will you let me?”

His eyes flitted from yours, to your lips, then back again.

“Or will you kamikaze dive into my kitchen table?”

Your reply was even softer than the question posed. “Only one way to find out.”

If the uptick at the corner of his lips told you anything, it was that he intended to.

Cautiously, as if sudden moves would startle you, he pulled your body flush against his. His other hand tilted your face upwards, thumb gently tucked under your chin while the rest of his fingers rested in the space just below your ear. His touch kept your body present even when the sensation of his kiss threatened to sweep your feet out from underneath you.

Plush pink and delicate, his lips molded to yours like they were specially designed to do just that. Like cracks giving way to let the light in, you opened yourself up for him. Licked into his mouth, eager to learn the parts of him you’d missed in all the time you’d shut him out.

And if you listened — really listened, over the moan he swallowed from you — you could’ve sworn you heard all the silly pages of your childhood diary flipping furiously. Scribbled to hell and back with a glitter gel pen, each one noting that this is what you wanted, this is what you wanted, this is everything you wanted.

The eternity in that kiss wasn’t long enough. Eventually, he broke the contact, pulling a disagreeing gasp from you when he pulled away. Your lips buzzed from the sudden loss of pressure — that, or they trembled without the warmth of his mouth. Either way, he was gone too soon.

The hand you had resting against his bicep slipped down to the center of his chest to tug at the fabric of his t-shirt. Unable to nip that growing neediness in the bud, you frowned.

“Jimin,” you sighed. You had nothing to follow-up with. His name was the totality of that thought.

Several moments of silence came next. His brow furrowed, like he was trying and failing to find something less vulnerable to say. He couldn’t. When it slipped out, his eyes searched your face for a reaction.

“I want to be soft with you.”

Any time you’d been together before, it was carnal, dripping with unarticulated hurt. He didn’t want that, not this time. You didn’t have to guess why.

Though the level of desperation you both felt now was familiar, the underscore had changed. Jimin wanted to touch you carefully because he felt fragile — so did you. If either of you moved too quickly, too roughly, you ran the risk of upending the balance you’d found. Like you, Jimin seemed to know that this was delicate.

You lifted your hand from his shirt and placed it on top of his where it sat above your jaw. Gently, your fingers wrapped around his and lowered them so you could intertwine them properly. Then, without a word and without letting go, you led him out of the kitchen into the small hallway.

This was the first time you’d crossed his house without sprinting and violently shedding your clothes as you went. It felt like you were seeing it all for the first time because, in a way, you were.

You’d never noticed the framed photos lining the walls of the hallway, or the subtle notes of grey in the white paint behind them. In all the time you’d spent there before, it’d never clicked that this house was a home. Everywhere, there were hints of him — his interests, his achievements, the friends you’d never met — sitting so blatantly in places you’d previously ignored.

Jimin apologized when you stepped over the threshold into his bedroom. “My plan was to clean it tomorrow.”

He smiled sheepishly as his free hand carded through the hair at the base of his neck.

“Doesn’t do you any good today, though.”

“I don’t mind,” you hummed in reply, shutting the door slowly behind him. “My plan was to do laundry today, and — well, you’ll see how that worked out for me.”

You kept your fingers interlocked with his while you surveyed his room. Like the rest of the house, you’d been in there countless times before without truly seeing any of it. Apart from the bare minimum clutter he’d needlessly apologized for, every surface was thoughtfully decorated. Even the absence of some keepsake or trinket on his shelf was purposeful.

He keeps space.

Propped on a stand near his dresser was his guitar, which you didn’t even know he still played. Of course he does, you thought, he’d have been an idiot to throw that talent away.

You were smiling long before you noticed you were doing it, even more so when you clocked where it sat. Just like it did in his childhood home, the guitar was positioned directly across the room from his doorway — the first and last thing he’d see when he came and left.

Carefully, you reached out and trailed one finger over the tuning pegs. It all felt forbidden, but stupidly, you felt compelled. You spent a lifetime aching to touch him. For reasons you couldn’t explain, his guitar was no different.

Watching you caress his guitar made his pulse race harder; you could feel it where your wrist aligned with his. If nothing else had changed, you suspected that he still didn’t let anyone lay a finger on it. Jimin always insisted that he did all the maintenance himself because he didn’t trust the technician at the local music shop to be careful enough.

To your surprise, it didn’t appear to be anxiety spinning circles in his stomach as he watched you. He spun you around, and it was clear from the look in his eye — the unshakeable desire he felt to touch you that same way.

You wondered what he was thinking while he studied your face in silence — if the months he’d spent trying to teach himself to hate it had blurred your features; and if he saw them clearly now.

The smattering of freckles across the bridge of your nose which swept over the tops of your cheekbones — even though it was winter, and you hadn’t seen much of the sun for weeks.

The small scar interrupting your eyebrow, which you’d gotten when both of your families went camping together a million years ago. He’d sprinted across tide pools to help you back to your feet, reaching you long before Seokjin could catch up.

You didn’t know if it was a conscious decision now, but he leaned down and placed a kiss there the way you wished he had back then.

“This isn’t still illegal, is it?” He murmured against your skin.

Unable to breathe, let alone speak, you shook your head so subtly that it couldn’t reasonably be counted as movement. Your next move was bolder, though: You unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugged your way out of it, and let it fall at your feet.

With a quick glance down, you remembered what you were wearing and cringed with your whole body.

Neither of your socks matched; your sweatpants had a hole near the crotch; and your sweatshirt’s sole task had been to hide the ratty, old MapleStory t-shirt that you stole from Seokjin when he went off to college.

A certifiable mess in a self-imposed dry spell.

Jesus Christ.

“Laundry day,” you blurted out in explanation, though he hadn’t asked. He wasn’t laughing, either — not reacting in any way to roast you the way you expected him to. Still, the tips of your nose and ears burned with embarrassment. “I didn’t plan for… this.”

His index finger dipped under the hem of your t-shirt and his thumb mirrored the way it traced the stitching.

“I kind of forgot that you own shit like this.” He replied softly, looking more pensive than usual. “Never see you in sweats.”

It was a fair point.

Jimin had slept next to you on three occasions — when the rules permitted — and you always woke up the same way you’d fallen asleep: completely naked. Somehow, it felt even more intimate for him to see what you wore when you went to bed without him. The silly, branded t-shirt probably said more about you than your bare chest did.

You realized that you’d never seen him in his current state before, either, with black joggers hanging low on his hips. His fluffy, air-dried hair didn’t sit smoothly the way it normally did. You wanted so badly to run your fingers through it, but there was a stronger compulsion to reckon with:

His shirt was ripped at the hem, not quite covering the lower inches of his torso.

Unthinkingly, your hand reached out so your fingers could rest against the skin there, midway down faint the trail of hair that dipped under the waistband of his pants. So much warmer than you, he shivered at your touch. You paused, self-conscious, then glanced up at him with eyebrows raised.

Is this okay?

You didn’t have to ask out loud to get an answer. It came as a whisper — “cold hands” — and it was accompanied by a smile that made your knees weak.

He nodded towards the other side of his room and said, “C’mere.”

The hand that previously held yours found it again. Fingers slipping easily into the spaces between yours, he led and you followed.

The crisply folded sheets contrasted completely with the effortless coziness of the rest of the space, but they didn’t stay that way for long. With his free hand, Jimin gripped the comforter and tugged it loose. It fluttered and fell freely back down over the bed.

Sighing reflexively, you slipped into the opening he’d created within the blankets. Every fiber smelled like him — clementine flower, orange blossom, water lily and orris — and now, so would you.

Jimin waited for you to scoot over before filling the space next to you, tilting his body inward to keep his eyes on you. His bent knee pressed against your outer thigh. It was chaste, especially when you considered the thousand other ways he’d touched you, but it had you vibrating in place, nonetheless. He probably felt it when he leaned in and kissed you for the third time, fingers sliding into your hair.

Tangled in him, your intrusive thought won out. Loose, it flew like a ping-pong ball around the inside of your skull: He can probably feel all that dry-shampoo, too.

Like he was begging you to focus, the tip of his tongue flicked across your bottom lip and stole a whimper. Your lips parted eagerly against his to accommodate him; both of you starving for every bit of tenderness you’d refused to let him give before.

As he poured more of himself into that kiss, the hand in your hair ran slowly down the length of your neck, over the slope of your shoulder, and down the curve of your torso. It stopped on the top of your thigh, warming you through to your bones. For the first time, his fingers didn’t dig harshly into the doughy flesh he found there. Now, his feather-light touch left you buzzing instead of bruised.

With every second that passed, your tingling spine struggled more and more to hold you upright. Noting the slight shift in your posture, Jimin guided you — still lip-locked — to rest your head on his pillows. It wasn’t until you tilted your head slightly to the side that his lips left yours; dipped down below your jaw to pepper the exposed skin there with unbearably soft kisses.

Each one made your pulse race harder than the last, pulled needy little breaths out of your mouth.

“Sound so pretty when you sigh like that,” he hummed against your throat. “Might have to kiss you like this forever if this is what it gets me.”

You’d been underneath him more times than you could presently recall, but never like this. Until now, you never understood how a person could say they loved you without any words at all, but you heard it. More than anything, you felt it in every brush of his lips — in the static crackling around you, charged with every little, languid line his tongue left behind.

The only thing distracting from your swelling heart was the wetness pooling in the bikini bottoms you’d hastily thrown on in the absence of clean underwear.

Fucking laundry day.

The sole consolation was the fact that the blend of polyester and elastane was better suited for a flood than any lace you would’ve consciously selected.

The breath behind his words tickled and surprised you, derailing your train of thought.

“Is it against the rules to tell you how beautiful I think you are?”

The circles he drew against the fabric of your sweatpants had you hypnotized, but you still managed to reply, “No more rules. Except — Oh, fuck.”

You mewled at the sensation of him suckling at the spot where your neck joined your shoulder.

“Except that you can’t ever stop.”

His lips curled into a smile against the love bite he’d so carefully crafted.

“I won’t,” he murmured before placing a kiss in the same spot he’d marked. “But I may need an intermission to get these incredibly chic clothes off your body. Kind of feels sacrilegious, though, I’ve gotta say.”

Your eyes flickered over to him, eyebrows raised. He pursed his lips to keep from smiling, forced the straightest face he could muster, then traced his fingertip over the rip in the crotch of your sweatpants. Sounding downright reverent, he explained, “They’re holey.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” You dropped your head back against the pillows with a groan that didn’t outgun your laughter. “Straight to jail for that. Seriously, that’s a federal crime.”

When your eyes stopped rolling and settled on him, Jimin was already looking down at you with amusement sparkling in the deep brown of his irises. He said nothing, opting instead to kiss you — for the fourth time — as a farewell before pulling away entirely.

The spot next to you went cold as soon as he sat up, but — bravely — you didn’t complain. You watched with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. He grabbed the end of his haphazardly, perfectly cropped t-shirt and pulled it off over his head.

Your only instinct was to reach up to his bare chest and trace every plane of it. To your dismay, Jimin intervened. Fingers at the hem of your top now, he stared expectantly at you until you stretched your arms above your head. That stupid, stolen shirt was guided up and off before it was discarded somewhere unseen.

Jimin’s pupils dilated immediately, gaze sweeping over your bare chest like he was beyond grateful that all your bras were at home, drowning in your washing machine. Uninhibited, he leaned forward. The delicate, cuban-link chain of necklace tickled the skin of your stomach while he placed an open-mouthed kiss in the space between your breasts. Cool to the touch, you shivered for more reasons than one.

When his tongue flicked out over one erect nipple, all you could offer was a breathy sigh, brain scrambled to hell and back. He seemed to draw inspiration from this — him and his goddamn mouth promptly switched tactics. Mimicking you, he looked up at you from under his lashes and blew a warm stream of air over your other nipple.

You were full-out whimpering underneath him. “Shit.”

“Yeah?” He smirked before taking the pebbled bud into his mouth and sucking softly, eyes still locked on yours.

Can I cum from this?

Oh god, I really might cum from this.

His mouth’s ministrations continued while his hands swept gently down the curves of your waist. That is, until they reached the elastic waistband of your sweatpants. Abruptly, Jimin stopped and sat back onto his calves.

You didn’t have to ask. Jimin’s eyes widened in tandem with the grin on his face; and you knew what he’d discovered. Smiling now with all his teeth, he tugged playfully at the knotted tie sitting above your right hip, keeping your bikini bottoms in place.

He snorted incredulously, “Be fucking for real.”

“Stop.” The word was elongated as you whined. It was useless, but you swatted at his arm. “I told you — ”

“I know, I know. It’s laundry day.” Fuck, his affection for you was written all over his face. “Incredible — truly, I have no notes.”

You buried your face in your hands to hide from him, but he didn’t let you. Just like he did that time on your couch, Jimin pulled your hands away from your face and held them in his own. This time, when he kissed you, you didn’t tear yourself away from him. Instead, you did the opposite. You grabbed the sides of his face in your hands and leaned into him.

With his hands now free, he was able to push your sweatpants down the rest of the way without extricating his lips from yours. Those fucking bikini bottoms went with them when he slipped the fabric over your ankles and tossed them blindly over his shoulder.

Mouth moving hungrily against yours, his hand hovered over your cunt, radiating warmth. You fought to keep your last shred of patience but lost, shifting underneath him to beg wordlessly for his touch. He obliged. His middle finger dipped between your sopping folds until it found the swollen bead of your clit and spiraled over it.

“Fuck,” you moaned into his mouth. He swallowed it, kissed you so deep your mind went blank.

The slow pace he’d chosen normally would have driven you mad, but instead of coming across as a taunt — or a punishment — you got the impression that he was basking in your arousal. That he was taking his time, savoring you and the million ways your body craved his.

When you pulled back, your lips were kiss-bitten and palpably swollen. He must have felt your quickened breath against his own lips. They autonomously curved into the tiniest sliver of a smile.

Watching him watch you, it was clear that Jimin loved you like this — wide-eyed, unguarded, inviting. He loved you generally. You knew that much for certain as he gazed down at you, and you were so fucking thankful that neither of you had to keep pretending otherwise.

Whatever trance he’d fallen into ended when you whispered, “Please.”

Though your plea wasn’t much more than an exhale, he didn’t need to be told twice. Momentarily, he stood; and as he did, your own hand dipped down between your legs. He stepped out of his joggers with his focus trained on you, staring spellbound while you touched yourself in his absence. Wet enough to drip.

If you had to wager on it, you’d bet that he could’ve stood there all night observing, listening to the way you moaned as you slicked your own fingers, but the darkened tip of his cock was weeping like he wanted you badly enough to ache. Completely incapable of spending any more time as a bystander, he fell to his knees between your legs. There, he guided them further apart with his hands.

Desperately, you grabbed one of his hands from where it sat on your knee and pulled him so that he was leaning over you once again. You wanted to feel the way his breath caught as he entered you, bare chest pressing into yours while he filled you. Needed him — just him — all the time.

Forearms now pressed to the mattress and fingers in your hair, he caged you in. His forehead came to rest against yours when you reached into the space between your bodies and dragged his tip through the mess he’d made of you. That faint squelch was obscene enough in the quiet of his room. It couldn’t hold a candle to the groan that escaped his chest when he finally entered you.

“Holy shit.” He exhaled sharply through gritted teeth. Your walls enveloped him, squeezing tight enough that no question remained about where he belonged. “Fucking missed you.”

That initial, perfect ache threatened to blind you, but it wouldn’t have mattered with the way your eyes screwed shut — too overcome with want to do much more than breathe. Slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretched you until he bottomed out. It was the closest thing you’d ever had to an out-of-body experience.

“Missed you,” you mumbled.

Well beyond fuck drunk, you bordered on incoherent. A kiss on your forehead lassoed you, brought you crashing back down. It was redundant, but he murmured, “Come back to me.”

You blinked up at him in a haze.

“Want you to look at me.”

He sounded shy, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard him, and you didn’t need any further explanation.

Eye contact had never been on the table before, deemed early on to be far too fucking intimate. If this is what he wanted, you decided, you’d never take your eyes off him again. Especially not when he looked at you the way he did then, like you hung the fucking stars in the sky.

You countered, “Kiss me.”

And he did, like he might never get the chance again.

No amount of closeness could’ve been enough, but you settled for wrapping your legs around him. With his range of motion now limited, he grinded against you; the curve of his cock rubbed against that secret spot behind your pubic bone.

Bones? Do you still have any of those?

Every tantalizing, slow thrust made it harder for you to remember why you’d ever required harshness when his gentleness now was infinitely more intense. It was so much better — being loved by him rather than hated.

Desperate fingers left half-moon imprints on his back, which was beginning to slick with sweat. The spaces between your whimpers lessened while the pressure in your abdomen began to build. Jimin had you teetering at the edge of the world, and you told him so with your lips at his ear, “Please — I’m so close.”

His forehead creased, and you watched in real time as determination etched itself into his features. He was perfect — beautiful — and he was close, too. You clenched; he cursed, “Fuck.”

You looked up at him through fluttering lashes, silently begging him not to stop. Not now, not ever. Stay.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” Jimin murmured, burying himself deeper with every thrust. “You know that, right? How much you mean to me?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He watched your face as you came — when your eyes rolled back, and your head tilted against his pillows. Your legs loosened their binds around him as they shook, gasping moans tumbling out of your open mouth. His pace didn’t falter; his presence deep inside of you only elongated your orgasm.

Bliss.

You were still fluttering around his length when your eyes finally drifted open again. Not even through your first aftershocks, his panting breaths alone could’ve pushed you headfirst into a second orgasm.

His gaze had dropped at some point to see the way your cunt clung to him with every backstroke. He must’ve felt you staring, though; he looked back up at you, pupils blown wide. That was all it took to dot stars along the edges of your vision.

Back arching up off the mattress, you gushed around him once again. Mindless babbling — consisting only of his name and expletives — fell clumsily off your tongue. It caught both of you off-guard when your shaky voice managed to plead, “Wanna feel you cum — please. Want you to let go for me.”

Only after you begged him did his thrusts become desperate, reckless. There was the unmistakable sound of your wetness and skin colliding with skin, and then there was the low moan that built in the seat of his chest and broke free. Face buried in the crook of your neck as he came, the heat of his breath on your skin was rivaled only by the dizzying warmth of his release spilling into you.

He struggled to hold himself up while his spent cock still twitched inside of you. If you were being honest, you adored the way his weight pinned you against his mattress. Maybe, you thought, you could stay there forever.

Eventually, an exhausted voice came from the curve of your shoulder, almost too muffled to hear.

“How is it —” Jimin panted. “— That in the hundred times we’ve had sex, it never felt like that?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. Tingling fingertips ran lightly and lazily across his shoulder blades. The hint of hesitation bubbling in the pit of your stomach cautioned you not to speak your thoughts out loud, so you stared at the ceiling above you and willed yourself to be brave.

Your voice threatened to give up on its way out.

“Nobody’s ever fucked me like they love me before.”

He mustered all the energy he still had to turn his head and look at you. At first, you couldn’t tear your eyes off the ceiling to look back. Make space, you begged yourself; and so, you did.

With his chest resting heavily on yours, you wondered if he could feel the way your heart skipped a beat at that eye contact alone. The glimmer in his eye informed you that, yes, he could.

“Better get used to it, then.” He punctuated his thought by pressing his lips to your temple. “‘Cause that’s what you signed up for.”

You smirked, “Oh? Was there a contract?”

You might’ve kept teasing him if he didn’t tilt your head to kiss you properly — and fuck, you were melting all over again.

“Sealed with a kiss, no less.” He leaned down to nip affectionately at your earlobe. Mouth at the shell of your ear, he purred. “Like any deal with the devil should be.”

“Goddamn.” You whistled. “Promoted from menace to devil already. Congratulations.”

With a roll of his eyes, he pulled out of you and forced himself upright to his feet. Before you could even ask him to, Jimin leaned down to kiss the lips you’d poked out into a pout. Your voice was uncharacteristically needy as your question slipped out.

“You are coming back, right?”

“Nope,” he hummed against your lips. You leaned away from him with your jaw dropped incredulously. “I’m taking a shower and I’m taking you with me.”

That was the only warning you got before one of Jimin’s arms slipped under the hinge of your knees, and the other disappeared behind your back. You screamed. Instead of flailing — a one-way ticket to the floor, you imagined — you threaded your arms around his neck and clung to him as if your life depended on it.

“Pardon me,” you sputtered. “But what the fuck is happening right now?”

“Shhh — pipe down. I’m keeping a promise.”

You stared at him expectantly. For a moment, he ignored you and continued quietly on his way towards the bathroom. It wasn’t until he reached the threshold that he paused with a sigh.

The look he shot you then was far more earnest than you could’ve expected under the circumstances. One that said he saw you, not through you, and he wasn’t going to look away.

Jimin said it breezily, like it cost him even less than the air it took to vocalize it: “I am not letting you down again.”

A pinprick of tears stung the corners of your eyes. You fought like hell to keep them where they belonged. It was such a stupid joke — made so lightly — and it still held more weight than anything you’d ever heard.

Eyes swimming despite your resistance, you sniffled and laughed. “Not, like, literally, though — right?”

“Aw, baby.” He kissed your temple again, cooing. Part of you hated it, but the rest of you swooned. “Don’t test me.”

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gilbirda · 5 months

Text

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 21

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

---

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your ankle is twisted.”

“Is not that bad,” Jazz said for the tenth time. And it really wasn’t, she had worse before, and it would be healed in a few days, tops. She wasn’t in top condition since she had to share her last dose of ectoplasm with him; but that didn’t mean she would let a sprained ankle bother her so easily.

“Are you sure you are okay? Jason is an absolute unit.”

“Hey.”

“What? You know it’s true!”

Dick nodded at Tim. “I almost broke my back trying to carry him piggyback once.”

“Really?” Jazz looked up from where Alfred was kneeling with the first aid supplies. She had already tried to insist she could deal with it herself and had been ignored twice. “Are there photos of that?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Damn.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

Jazz turned to smile at her boyfriend, not-that-secretly enjoying his slightly pink cheeks.

“Hmm?”

Everyone turned to look at Alfred when he hummed. The butler was frowning, eyes fixed on Jazz’s right foot — not in her red and swollen ankle he was about to bandage, but on one of her toes. It was crooked and stood out next to the other perfectly aligned ones.

Oh. Right.

“What happened?”

Jazz felt a bit crowded when the siblings leaned in to see her foot. She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her feet, and she never felt more self conscious before. She could have painted her toenails, at least, but she didn’t find time to do so before the dinner.

“I broke my toe a long time ago.”

Dick wore what she had come to understand was his “that’s nice” smile. She had seen him use it many times during gymnastics class, when he definitely had some comments to say but bit his tongue and said “that’s nice” instead. He had used it with her a few times, but she didn’t hold it against him.

“It didn’t heal fine.” Tim beat him to the comment. Jazz expected it, and sighed.

She gathered her thoughts as Alfred carefully twisted her foot this and that way, not upsetting her injured ankle.

“I was… eight? Ten? I think I was ten years old. I ran upstairs a bit too fast and stumbled with the last step and broke it.” She fixed her eyes on her feet when she continued: “I thought — It was just one toe. I thought I could power through and it would heal on its own.”

Someone tensed. From the corner of her eye she saw Bruce shuffle closer. She didn’t miss his troubled eyes as she ranted about her childhood back at the dinner table.

“Your parents didn’t take you to the hospital?” He asked, trying very hard to mask his horror and disappointment. Cute, but unnecessary.

“They would have, if I had told them.” Why did she get weirdly defensive, even after all these years? “But I knew I couldn’t afford the hassle of getting a toe splint and the bed rest. Danny — We had to eat. The house wouldn’t run by itself.”

Jazz had time to reflect and address how unfair it was for her to assume that role so young. She didn’t help either, trying so hard to be treated like an adult and shoehorning herself into the parenting position; but her parents gave up control to her too easily and faster than what should have been legal.

“So you walked around with a broken toe? For months?”

She didn’t look at Jason, but nodded in response. Memories of the pain coming back to her mind. It hurt so much. It really, really hurt, but she just couldn’t give up. Giving up meant not eating. Meant her grades slipping and having the school call her parents. Meant worrying Danny.

“At the time I was dealing with a lot of pain. It wasn’t until we discovered the long lasting effects of ecto contamination that we realized that the pain Danny and I experienced for the best part of our childhood and adolescence was the ectoplasm changing us from the inside out. I thought it was just growing pains. So I just… ignored it all and moved on.”

It truly was how she lived her life, huh? Ignore the pain and power through. That’s how she dealt with things when she was a kid, how she did during highschool. How she managed to just adapt and give up her dreams so she could become Danny’s pillar and support during the preparation to be King. How she came out in one piece after fighting at his side for so long.

She had always been such a hypocrite — advocating for staying in touch with your inner child, to address mental health, while ignoring her own. Nagging and pushing Danny to not let things accumulate and talk about them with her or with his friends.

And when it was about her? Power through. Ignore. She would have time to work through it later.

A soft touch on her shoulder brought her back to the moment. She breathed out slowly, looking into the eyes of the one person she knew would poke her until she admitted she wasn’t as fine as she thought, and sit with her as she worked through her thoughts.

“I’m okay.” She told Jason with a little smile.

And truly, she was.

Someone cleared their throat, and Jazz jumped, feeling her cheeks burn. Oh, Ancients. She hoped she hadn’t been staring at his eyes for too long.

By the quiet snickers and how the group that had formed around her dispersed, she assumed she did. How embarrassing!

“In any case,” she tried to get back some of her dignity, “that’s the story why the toe looks weird. It healed wrong but,” she shrugged, not really wanting to dwell on that.

“Well,” Alfred continued after a brief tense silence, “we may not have recent pictures of Jason at hand, but I know where the old albums are stored. If you want to see.”

Old albums? As in, Jason when he was a kid?

Jazz perked up at the thought — he must have been such a cute kid! — but looked to check on him if it was okay. Jason was very private and he didn’t talk much about his days at the Manor.

He looked… relaxed? He was lifting an eyebrow and looking at Bruce with a little smile. “I didn’t know you kept the pictures.”

The other man looked a bit tense. “I keep all the pictures of my kids.”

“Awww,” Stephanie leaned over where she was resting over Tim and Bernard’s laps on the other sofa, arching her back to look at Bruce upside down. “Even mine?”

“You are not one of my children, as you like to remind me every day.” Bruce said with a tired sigh, but that made it obvious he was joking.

“Damn right.”

Jazz giggled, a numbing cream Alfred was applying on her ankle tickling her a little. She stayed put as he bandaged her ankle with practiced moves, with just enough compression to support her injured ankle but not enough to cut her blood flow. Jason mentioned that Alfred usually patched them up after patrol.

“Thank you.” She said to the butler when he was done, a conversation about “baby pictures” and half hearted threats flowing around the room.

Alfred smiled at her, softly patted her foot and then gathered the first aid kit stuff and left quietly.

“Picture time!”

Jazz had little time to prepare before Dick dropped a thick album on her lap and sat down on her free side, opening the album on the first page.

The pictures were old and some were shaky and off-focus. They had this homey feeling that reminded her of the days before her parents became obsessed with the portal and family time took a backseat in their lives.

They watched her thumb through the pages and answered questions about the pictures — mostly Bruce, Dick and Alfred — and tried to not crowd her too much. Jason kept himself distanced from the situation, maybe to give her space too, maybe to be able to watch her react to the stories and the pictures of a faraway past. Jazz was polite and showed genuine interest, laughing at the memories with the rest of the group.

Soon they got to the pictures that featured the second addition to the family. Everyone breathed in relief when any reaction from the estranged family member was overshadowed by their guest’s high-pitched squeal.

“So cute!” She murmured, hand hovering over a picture with a much younger Jason covered in bandaids and glaring daggers at the camera.

“It was shortly after he arrived at the manor,” Alfred supplied the information, “and young master Jason didn’t like posing for pictures.”

Her cheeks colored pink, eyes fixed on the picture of a frowning child with curly hair. They watched in silence as she went through the pictures of her boyfriend, wondering what she was thinking. Back then Jason was a completely different person, did she notice the differences? Did she mourn the kid that he was? The man he could have been?

Jazz turned the page and a pile of pictures slid down the album. Jason was the fastest, picking up everything before it hit the floor.

They were Batman and Robin pictures.

“Oh shit,” Tim grumbled, trying to reach for the pictures, “forgot those were there.”

Jason moved his hand, and the pictures, out of his reach.

“I thought I told you to remove them, Master Timothy.” Alfred’s disappointment was perceptible, but his worried glances at Jason’s face minimized the impact.

Everyone held their breath as the man looked at the pictures, smiled, and showed the one at the top of the pile to everybody.

“I forgot how ugly the old uniform was.”

Jazz yanked the picture from his hand and held it close to her chest. “Don’t say that!” She reached for the rest of the pictures. “I liked it.”

“But that’s because you were a groupie.”

“You were a Robin fan?” Bernard jumped at the opportunity to keep the mood light.

“A me fan!” Dick smirked, flipping his hair like a diva. “Our dearest Jasmine was the club president for years!”

“Just two.” She grumbled, face red as a tomato. “And yes, I may or may not have been a Nightwing fan —”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said!” Jazz huffed, keeping her eyes on the pictures. The Robin in those pictures was Dick, given the wavy hair parted on the side. And the giant smile on his face, showing his dimples. “This is so embarrassing.”

“And yet you keep looking.” Did Jason focus on messing with her to ignore everything else? He was as calm and collected as he had been during the whole evening.

“Robin pictures have always been very difficult to come by. Good quality ones, at least.”

Tim smirked, pleased. “Some of my best work, if I do say so myself.”

“These are yours?”

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’, “although I didn’t catch Dick until his last few months as Robin.”

Jazz hummed in response, eyes still focused on the pictures. “The resemblance is uncanny.” She murmured.

“With?”

“Danny, my brother.” She smiled up at Dick. “He dressed up as Robin one Halloween. Costume was really good, my parents bought the good quality stuff.” She chuckled. “I threw the biggest fit ever — Danny didn’t even like Robin! He thought he was lame and not as cool as Superman. But it was what my parents got him and everyone at school told him he could pass as the real thing; and well, he caved and didn’t give it to me.”

“You wanted to be Robin?” Dick asked, amused.

“Yeah! I was sooo mad. ‘Girls can’t be Robin, Jazzypants’” She scoffed. “Of course my parents weren’t helpful.”

Stephanie hollered, not looking up from her phone screen. “Yeah, girls can’t be Robin. That’s absurd.”

“In the end I went as Wonder Woman, since I didn’t have time to get another costume.”

“You don’t like Wonder Woman?” Jason asked her.

“No, I like her just fine. It’s just—” she sighed, leaning on the backrest of the sofa, gathering her thoughts. “Robin, for me, was more than a celebrity. I was… Growing up, I felt so helpless. Everyday I ended up exhausted and wondering when it would end, counting the days until I turned eighteen and I could take my little brother and leave that house. I think —” her voice got tight for a moment, but she cleared her throat fast, “ — I think that I was a huge fan because Robin was such a capable hero while being a kid like me. If he could do so many amazing things then I could, too.”

Jazz was suddenly pulled into a muscular chest, arms squeezing her so hard she was about to beg for mercy when Dick finally let her go. “That was so nice to hear, my dear number one fan.”

She chuckled, unsure of what to say, feeling everyone’s eyes on her person after such an embarrassing speech. She patted the man’s forearms a few times before moving out of the hug.

“I don’t think I’ve ever shown you guys a picture of my brother. The one with the costume should be somewhere in my childhood house — I remember taking pictures that day — but, here.”

She pulled her phone out and went to the gallery app, quickly finding a selfie of her with Danny. It was at the Nasty Burger and was a bit old, about a year old, but it was safe to show it. No Realms business.

“Tim, he could be your clone.” Bernard murmured, eyes on Jazz’s phone.

Jazz giggled. “Doubt so. We would know”

“What?”

“What?” She answered Tim, a nervous smile on her lips. The other narrowed his eyes, pondering her words, but let it go.

“I can see what you mean about the resemblance,” Dick moved on, “and I’m sure you could have passed as Batgirl, with the red hair. Babs’ is a bit darker, but it’s close enough.”

“I thought about it the next year but Danny said he was ‘too old for trick or treating’ and I also didn’t see the point of spending money on an expensive costume and, well, life happened.” She sighed, going back to the pictures, maybe looking for one of Batgirl. “I should have insisted, who knows. Is in the past now.”

“I mean, if you want the suit, it’s in the basement.”

She gave Dick a look, raising an eyebrow. “No, thank you.”

Dick opened his mouth to insist but he choked with the words, watching Jazz pick the next picture on the pile, showing a much younger Robin. It was Jason, of course, who was pictured running and flying around Gotham’s rooftops.

Everyone watched Jason. Jason watched Jazz.

“You look weird without the white streak,” she smiled up at him, lifting a picture where the kid wearing the bright colored uniform was clear and in frame, placing it next to his scowling face. “Yeah, I think I like you more with the punk hairstyle.”

“It’s a death souvenir.” He said, trying to act nonchalant, but everyone noticed the slight tension in his jaw as he watched her reactions.

“Oh I know. I knew it wasn't dyed since that day in the elevator.” At his incredulous look she added: “I told you. I know death, buddy.”

He rolled his eyes, but picked up the pile of Robin pictures in her hands. Eyes somewhat distant, the now young man went through the pictures without really stopping at any of them.

"These are really good." He commented.

"Thanks…" All Tim got in response was a grunt.

Jazz leaned in to look at the pictures too, one of her hands softly placed on his without drawing attention to the gesture. Jason didn't comment on it either, choosing to continue looking at the pictures.

"Hm." He finally said. "The short pants were a mistake."

Bruce exhaled slowly, realizing he had been holding his breath. Jason looked calm enough, even after everything that happened. Was this a sign that things were going to get better?

“If you hated them so much then you should have changed them,” Jazz’s voice lacked actual bite, and her glare was playful.

“Didn’t have enough time to change anything.” He stopped at a picture where the little kid looked more adolescent. Maybe it was taken the year of his passing. “And I knew Dickolas would flip if I changed the outfit. He hated me—”

“I didn’t—!” Everyone jumped at Dick’s outburst. He shrunk in his seat. “I didn’t hate you,” he started again, softer, “I was mad at Bruce. I shouldn’t have misplaced my anger like that.”

Jason considered his brother for a few seconds, ignoring everyone’s stares, and nodded. Without any other comment, he turned towards his girlfriend and asked:

“What did you think about the second Robin? Wasn’t he also a child hero?”

Bruce didn’t know what hurt more; that he spoke of that child like he was a stranger, or that “hero” was obviously not Jason’s first choice of words.

Jazz snorted and looked down at the picture of a serious-looking fifteen year old Jason Todd wearing the Robin costume.

“I hated him.” She answered in the middle of a tense silence. “He wasn’t as funny.”

Bernard was the first one to break into incredulous giggles, shortly followed by Stephanie. The rest watched in horror, waiting for the trainwreck to happen, unsure what to do at their guest’s statement.

Jason blinked once, twice, and joined the laughter as he grasped Jazz’s face with one hand, squishing her cheeks.

“You are weird.”

“And I’m right. You weren’t as funny.” Her words were almost incomprehensible since she couldn’t move her jaw.

“What are you talking about? I’m hilarious.” He leaned in, pulling her towards him so their faces were very close. His smile wasn’t kind but the corner of his lip twitched with amusement. “You love my death puns.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard every death joke under the Sun. You are not special.” She said as best as she could articulate.

Everyone saw the young man’s eyes travel down her face to her lips, and what was once a tense silence became charged with the obvious attraction between the couple. If there was ever a doubt they cared for each other, it was gone now.

But instead of kissing, he let her go and leaned back to his lounging position. Jazz chuckled and let her body fall so she could let her head rest on his shoulder. She picked up the picture, admired it for a few seconds and gave it back to Dick to put it with the others in the pile.

“Thanks for showing me these,” she gestured at the album. Whatever else she was going to say was drowned by a big yawn she hid behind her hand.

“I think—”

“You guys could stay the night.” Bruce interrupted Jason. He smiled nervously. “I mean, it’s late and,” he vaguely gestured towards Jazz’s bandaged foot. “Alfred could give you a lift tomorrow.”

It was easy to see through the attempt, even for those that knew Bruce the least.

“Everything is as you left it. Your room—”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Or I can prepare a guest room immediately.” Alfred manifested out of thin air, having left during the picture time to tend to his duties.

Jazz looked up at her boyfriend’s face, worried. She picked his hand but stayed leaning on his side, maybe hoping her weight kept him grounded. Jason was very tense, and she could feel his breaths grow quicker and shallow.

“You can show me your room another day.” She muttered, unsure if it was the correct thing to say.

He looked down at her eyes, searching for something. Exactly what he wanted, she didn’t know; but Jazz held his gaze with determination, letting him know she would follow his lead with whatever option he chose. If he really didn’t want to stay, she was fine with riding back to their apartment with her injured foot.

Jason clicked his tongue and breathed deeply once. “My old room is fine. Just for tonight.”

Goodbyes were brief and hasty, the mood ruined after the uncomfortable exchange. Tim left with Bernard and Stephanie, since the couple was giving her a ride home, and Dick decided to stay the night as well. Duke made a tactical escape to his room with barely saying good night. Cass disappeared for a moment and came back wearing her pajamas, picking up Jazz’ bag and discarded shoe to bring back to Jason’s old room, leaving a spare pajama set for Jazz on the bed by Alfred’s orders.

Bruce watched all happen from his loveseat with a worried face. He glanced at Damian as he passed by with Titus behind him, both coming back from the dog's last walk of the day.

“They are staying the night?” His son asked when he approached, watching Jason pick up the young woman in his arms.

The older man smiled at her blushed face and embarrassed antics at being carried like a princess. “It seems so.”

Damian considered the situation and nodded, his thoughts concealed. Bruce was positive his youngest’s opinion of the new addition to the family changed during the evening; but he didn’t know how Damian felt regarding having Jason back. His son didn’t deal well with change, even less when it was regarding family dynamics, and he was worried about the whole situation.

For the moment everything seemed okay — Damian nodded again and went upstairs to his room without asking anything else.

And so, Bruce was left alone with Alfred.

“I like her.”

The butler hummed at his master’s words. “Shall I prepare a new suit, Master Bruce?”

That finally made the man laugh. “She’s not a vigilante, Alfred.” He said when he calmed down. “I wouldn’t drag her deeper into this life than she already is.”

Alfred gave Bruce a look, lifting one thin eyebrow, like he knew better but was biting his tongue.

---

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armpirate · 2 months

Text

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 13

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy.

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 28 minutes

Chapter warnings: Smut, dirty talk, protected sex, oral sex (female receiving), female masturbation, pubic hair, teasing

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MASTERLIST

His hand was almost rubbing her shoulder, embracing her back as she moved closer to him to give him no space to think about anything else that wasn't her. Jungkook had been working almost all night to get her attention.

He knew women like her were difficult to find, and even more difficult to keep engaged. He played nice and funny, his conversation was eloquent until he saw in her eyes how hooked he was. And then, he made the tactic move of telling her he didn't want to bother and that he'd go back to his table, only for her to insist him to stay a little longer.

Her fingers made the quick move of sliding in his locks, moving through his scalp as she approached her lips to his.

Until his ringtone interrupted.

—It'll be quick —he assured her.

His right hand left her thigh over her trousers to reach the back pocket of his pants and take the phone out.

Peter's name on his screen made him sigh, wondering why he was calling so late into the night, and why he was even thinking of bothering him out of training hours.

—What?

—There's a girl that looks exactly like your girlfriend here.

—My girlfriend? —he quickly smiled at the girl, who frowned at that word.

—Yeah, that petty girl that entered the gym like she owned it a few weeks ago.

Jungkook sat straight, moving away from the girl he was ready to hook up with, when the description sounded a little too familiar.

A petty girl? That acted like she owned places? And that was in his gym? That could only be Y/n.

—Are you sure it's her?

—It looks like her for sure —he sighed—. She's wearing boxing gloves, and one of the trainers is with her. But I'm not sure if she's here to fight.

Jungkook was convinced all those hits at his head were paying a tough consequence faster than it should.

—Well, so what? —he chuckled— She isn't my problem. Focus on your things, and ignore her.

After hanging up, Jungkook turned to the girl that was giving him a rough look after that call, expecting an explanation.

—It's a misunderstanding —he started—. It's just someone who's obsessed with me, and goes around telling people we're dating.

—I mean, I'm not surprised —her fingers moved up to his chest—. I'm obsessed, and I've only been around you for a few hours.

His hand went back to that spot in her thigh, leaning over her to go for that kiss he was interrupted from getting, only to be interrupted again. His thought froze him on the spot, stopping just a few millimeters from her face, and barely feeling anything when she linked their lips together.

What was Y/n doing in a place like that? And why the hell was she even thinking of fighting? So that was why she had those boxing gloves in her house the other day?

Jungkook shook his head, trying to focus on the kiss that he barely corresponded to. Y/n wasn't his problem.

But they'd eat her alive in that place? She could seem to be rough, but she wouldn't last a round.

The girl lost her balance when Jungkook moved back quickly, letting his thoughts win and his worry take over him. He wasn't doing it because of her, that was right, he was just worried that his conscience would make him feel guilty because he had the chance to avoid it. That was the reason.

—You're amazing, so hot and sexy —the girl smiled, sinking her shoulders with fake shyness—. But I need to go.

He got up and started making his way to the door, stopping when he realized he had no way of getting to the place the fight was taking place. The girl sat straight, faking pride -even if her heart skipped a bit- when she saw him walking back to her.

—Perhaps... Did you come here by car? I really need someone to drive me somewhere.

She got up, and for a quick second he genuinely thought she'd agree on taking him where he needed to be. His face quickly moved to the side after she slapped his face, and walked away from his mumbling several insults.

—"No" would've worked —he complained, rubbing his cheek with the palm of his hand.

Well, he had to get there by uber or taxi. Not only did she cost him a fun night, Y/n also cost him whatever price the drivers settled for the night.

She was so determined when she first agreed to the fight, thinking that she'd find a way out before she actually had to go up in the ring, that she didn't even think of the possible problems that could come up and that could avoid her from dodging being beaten up by another woman that was twice of her body in muscles.

Her blood pressure went down to the tip of her toes when she saw that fighter, keeping her hair away from her face with two boxer braids.

She hadn't even been training for a week.

Of course she knew how to hit a punch on someone, or how to dodge a hit before it actually reached her face. Her brother taught her before he died. But that situation was completely different. She had never had to think so fast and react at the same time the thoughts were kicking in her system.

She agreed to the fight, thinking she'd overhear some information that could be useful to her, thinking that someone important would show up and show the face so she could try to expose him as part of that web of illegal fights. But there was nothing she could use.

Nothing.

—How am I supposed to win? She looks like she'd eat me with one bite and burp all of my bones out —she whispered, hating herself for being unable to hide the way her voice shook.

—Oh, don't worry about that.

A ray of hope fell on her with those words coming from her trainer, thinking that maybe she was better at fighting than she thought -he agreed on her showing up at the fight due to something-, or maybe the other fighter was all appearance and she was indeed as bad in boxing as her.

—You're not supposed to win.

Y/n opened her eyes wide, turning to her trainer, who was looking at her with a calm smile.

—I'll earn more if my fighters lose than if they win —he whispered—. Just take the hits. Pam, pam —he simulated the punches—, and stay up until the fourth or fifth round.

—I should just allow her to punch me until the fifth round? —she hysterically asked.

—You got it right —he patted her shoulder—. Don't think about it too much, because you're next.

It all happened so fast, that she didn't know where the other fight came to an end until she saw that other young boy almost being dragged out of the improvised ring. She gulped thick, seeing what her future would look like in the next fifteen minutes.

—Wait —she urgently spoke, trying to stand her foot on the ground as hard as she could—, couldn't you give me two minutes more to think about it?

—Two minutes more? Of course —but his fake smile quickly dropped—. What do you think this is? Let's go.

She was already ready to face her fate, dealing with the consequences of her own decisions that took her there. Until another bigger hand got a grip on her forearm, next to her trainer's hand, and a wide back almost covered her whole body, barely allowing her to see further than it.

—Why am I not surprised? —the middle-aged man scoffed, looking away before his eyes fell on Jungkook— Get out of my way.

—She's not fighting, Ramon —Jungkook slowly spoke.

Y/n looked lower on the hand holding her, frowning when she thought of how familiar those tattoos looked. And that voice... Usually, she was so annoyed just seeing Jungkook, that she was always tempted to do the opposite of what he'd like her to do, but that day he showed up like a guardian angel, making her feel like she had never been happier to see him before in her life.

—At least I'm here supporting my fighters —the man answered with a cocky tone.

—You know nobody from my business is fighting today —he hissed.

And it wasn't like he ever sent any of his fighters to fight, unless he had no other choice. And he always made sure they were prepared to confront any fight they were signed on.

—Let her go unless you want me to break each bone of your body.

—If I let her go, you know they'll do more than just break each bone of your body, Jungkook.

—It's alright —Y/n interrupted, finally making him turn to her—. I'm here because of that, and it isn't like I need your help.

Y/n moved her arm away, getting rid of both of their grips to be able to walk past her neighbor. She turned again, looking at him one last time.

—Calm your dick down while I get on the ring. Just let what happened the last time happen again.

Her voice and body language were saying one thing, but her eyes were asking him to do another.

His brain was working at full speed, looking around to anything that could help him come up with something to help her. Those fights are never stopped. No trainers oppose, no fighters step back, no one from outside can come in between. The only few times it was ever stopped was because cops suddenly popped up.

And he saw the light.

Moving around the crowd, he looked for Peter, until he found him supporting his weight on one of the columns as he saw the ring from afar.

—Hey, Kook —the young boy greeted.

—I need you to do me a favor.

—Sure, what is it?

In a hurry, Jungkook leaned over the boy, able to whisper what he was planning to do in his ear, so nobody around would know.

—Get out of here, and call the police.

—What? Why?

—Just do what I'm telling you —seeing that Peter wasn't moving still, he spoke again—. Now.

Once the young man disappeared among the crowd, Jungkook turned his back to the ring again, hoping his idea would work out.

At the sound of the bells, Y/n could only feel her stomach sinking deeper and her legs feeling as weak as jelly, before she started running around the ring to escape her opponent. She wasn't fast herself, and right in that moment she was regretting not being in shape, just like one of her coworkers had recommended her.

—Why don't we pretend you hit me? It's the same result —Y/n tried to convince her.

But another punch flew her way, quickly making her run back to get as far as possible from the tall woman.

—I'll give you fifty bucks —she begged—. Sixty? I can go up to seventy, but that's my limit.

Her negotiation stopped when the first punch laid on her face, making her lose balance and fall to her knees. She thought that the smartest would be not to get up, and stay there until the time passed and the fight was lost on her side, but she received another hit that made her fall to her side.

She forgot where she actually was when she thought that, being on the floor, would stop the other from touching her.

Jungkook saw everything from the crowd, wishing for Peter to have understood his order and done them properly - even feeling tempted to send him a message to confirm he actually did what he was asked.

Until he heard those familiar alarms and all those loud shouts that tried to keep everyone in their places.

It was his sign to run to the ring and run to Y/n.

—Please, tell me I'm dead —she begged when Jungkook made her roll on her body.

Jungkook knew that in her state she wouldn't be able to move properly, and they probably would get caught. Either by the people behind those fights, or by the cops that were running after them. He opted for lifting her body, carrying her up his shoulder to run away from there.

Y/n felt dizzy, finally waking up from her momentary commotion when the chill breeze hitted her exposed arms. She lifted her head from his back, seeing two men running after them, suddenly making her enter a new panic that had her hitting Jungkook's lower back as if she were hitting the loin of a horse.

—Fast, they're catching us —she panicked—. The car isn't that far.

—Why the fuck did you park your car so far? —he complained.

—Exactly because of this —she replied back, trying to lift her body to see him—. Go faster.

After a few seconds that were eternal for the two of them, she finally cheered when she managed to see Allan's car not that far from them. To earn time, he left her on the ground and looked for the bag she had hidden in the bushes to be able to open the car. Jungkook almost threw her on the backseat to not waste time surrounding the car when he heard a thick male voice calling them out, and got on the driver's seat.

The rest of the way back home was in silence, only filled with the roaring of the engine and their shaky breaths as they tried to understand everything that had happened.

—Well, my plan worked out —he sighed, finally able to calm down.

—Your plan? I was the one who gave you the idea.

—You? When? Do you seriously have to take my merit away? —Jungkook complained, taking a quick look at her through the rear view.

—I was the one who gave you the idea. Dick, slang for cops? Just let what happened the last time happen again?

—Who the fuck would've ever thought you were referring to that?

—You, clearly! —Y/n answered back.

—So you think you saved your own ass?

—No, of course not —Jungkook almost smiled when he heard her saying that—. It was teamwork.

—I did all the work —he turned to her—. I thought about it all, I carried you to the car...

—It was sixty, forty.

—You did nothing.

—Alright... Seventy five, twenty five, then.

Jungkook simply sighed at how stubborn she was, deciding not to speak up again until they reached their building. He had been carrying her bag all the way to their places, hanging it up on her neck and making her think they'd separate their ways after the elevator reached their floor.

But his hand on her wrist again stopped her from doing so, guiding her to his apartment.

—I can clean it up —she assured him—. I've actually dealt with this more times than you think.

—Have you seen your face? Just let me do it.

He helped her take the boxing gloves off, throwing them over his couch so she'd have the mobility of her fingers back. While he left, Y/n just shyly moved around the coffee table to take a seat in his leather couch, looking around as if she hadn't been there before.

When Jungkook turned, he sat at the edge of the coffee table, in front of her. Her throat completely shut in surprise when his fingers hooked around the back of her knees, separating her legs and dragging her body to the edge of the couch to pull her closer to him.

She was used to having him so close unprompted. It had been like that since they saw each other for the first time, and that only got worse after the first time they slept together. But, somehow, that night something felt different.

—Thank you for tonight... shhh —she tried to hold back her whine by clenching her teeth together, as he cleaned up the wound on her lower lip.

—I guess this makes up for the spice incident —he sighed.

—How did you know I was there?

—I have ears and eyes everywhere —Jungkook tried to play mysterious, giving a vague answer—. One of the guys I train was there to get familiar with all of that —he finally answered—. But the real question is: what were you doing there?

—I needed to come up with another way to write the article —she justified herself.

—Sure, because letting someone break your face would work so well for it.

—The editor said I needed to make it more personal, and what's more personal than that?

—Are you seriously going to justify it? —Jungkook shook his head in disbelief— Is this only for that article?

Y/n squinted her eyes at that question, trying to understand where he was trying to get with it. Was he actually wondering if she had any other reason to go through all of that?

—Yeah, what else would I be doing all of this for? —she nodded, coming up with the fastest excuse— With this, I was able to see how they choose the fighters, how they get the locations, and how it works —she shrugged—. If you had helped me, I wouldn't have had to do this.

—There you go again blaming me —his eyes rolled while his head was thrown back.

—I'm not blaming you, I'm saying that talking with you was the easy way.

—I was serious, Y/n. Drop it. You don't want to deal with those people —he tried to warn her.

—I know exactly what those people are capable of, I know what I'm getting myself into, and it's exactly why I think I need to go on with the article. Ah! —she complained when he pressed his fingers harder on her wound, moving the cotton coated in alcohol— You're so gentle —she ironically said.

—Oh, sorry. I thought that since you were so tough and brave, you'd be able to handle it.

Her tongue clicked in discomfort, looking him up as he sighed, leaving all the things he had used back on his left.

—I can handle that, but it hurts —she whined, touching the corner of her mouth carefully.

She quickly moved back as she saw him leaning over her way too close, having her looking back confused.

—Didn't you say it hurt? Stay still.

She couldn't explain the way her whole body reacted when the cold air coming out of his mouth in a blow reached her lips. It was as if she was waking up, she could even hear her own hormones boiling by having him so close to her. Jungkook was aware of her gaze, looking at him with such intensity that it was making him nervous.

He was aware of the way she was slowly approaching him, cutting the distance between their lips. And he just let her act. He didn't move back, he didn't move with her, he just waited for her to come his way.

—Shouldn't I be the one rejecting you now? —he whispered, stopping her advance.

—Why do you always have to open your big mouth? —she huffed.

His comment almost made her move back and make her way out of the trap his body and the couch formed, but his hand moved faster, hooking her chin with two of his fingers to cut the small distance that there was left between them.

That first kiss led to another one, that had her wrapping her fingers around his neck and moving closer to him, hanging completely at the edge of the couch. Jungkook groaned when he tasted the metallic taste of her blood mixed with the bitter savor of the alcohol she had used to cure her.

As the tip of her tongue sneakily moved in between his lips, Jungkook supported the weight on his body on each side of her, sinking his knees on the edge of the couch to completely cover his body with his.

He could only hope that wasn't one of his daydream fantasies that had him in more than just one trouble.

A pop sound echoed the four walls of his living room when he broke the kiss to move down her neck, hearing how she took a deep breath when he sucked on that spot between her jaw and throat as he slowly laid her body down against the backrest. His fingers moved the elastic of her black top up, exposing her perking breasts and moving his mouth down as soon as he got the first sight of them.

Y/n wasn't thinking, she slowly allowed him to intoxicate her system so she could allow herself to lose herself to him at least for once. Her back arched when his warm mouth wrapped around one of her nipples, feeling the other tightening painfully as it begged for the same attention from him every time his tongue swirled around the button.

—Have I ever told you how much I love your tits? —his husky voice praised her, sucking on the swollen button one last time before he started moving lower in her torso.

Once his lips reached the elastic of her shorts, she realized the situation she was in, and the little problem she had down there.

—Stop.

Jungkook looked at her confused, making one last move to be sitting on his knees in front of her.

She had been so busy with the article, so focused on anything else but herself, that she didn't worry to keep herself trimmed down there. With any other hook up, she probably would've tried to come up with an excuse or a valid reason to stop it all and try to keep some of the information to herself, but it wasn't like she cared about her image with Jungkook. That rivalry situation they had going on allowed her to not to care about what he could think of her.

—I didn't shave —she stuttered.

Jungkook simply scoffed, feeling even more relaxed after hearing that. If that was the only problem that night, then so be it.

—And do you think I care?

There was no way he'd give up on that chance for something so vain as hair.

His fingers hooked on the elastic of her shorts and her panties, pulling them down her legs and throwing them next to the boxing gloves on the couch. As he kissed her belly, he could smell how aroused she was, sending a message straight to his shaft. He moved his digits through the wet curls, opening her slit with two of his fingers. His cock tightened against his pants at the vision of her leaking pussy, giving it no second thoughts as his tongue moved from her entrance to her clit to get a first taste of her.

A gasp escaped her mouth like she had been holding it for a lifetime, being the first time she opened her mouth, not knowing she wouldn't be able to close it for the rest of the night.

The tip of his tongue traced eight-shaped lines on her clit, getting the first reaction from her. Her fingers sank in his scalp before he changed those movements into small circles and kitten licks that had her hips grinding against his mouth for more.

He was teasing her, testing the waters with her, examining each one of her reactions to know what she liked and what she loved.

—Suck it —she demanded with a heavy voice, turning into a short moan when his mouth captured her swollen button.

Trying to get rid of anything that could limit her movements, Y/n took off the top, sinking deeper on the couch to spread her legs a bit more and focus all of her attention on how his head moved with soft bops in the middle of her thighs.

One of his fingers slid into her, stretching her out for the second finger that would come right after, pounding in and out of her with a lower intensity, decreasing the way he pulled from her clit for a moment before it went back to the way he was doing it. Y/n quickly turned into that moaning mess that made him regret ever wearing those tight black jeans for his night out.

—You look so good keeping your tongue busy —her voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, when his teeth softly trapped her clit.

—And you look so hot when you just moan.

He moved his flat tongue against her bundle of nerves before trapping it again, sucking it in between his lips to flick his tongue from side to side while his fingers kept working inside of her, curling them up to rub against a spot that had her pulling his hair so tight that he was sure he'd rip some locks apart.

Y/n was needy, but not the type to beg. She encouraged him to go on when she was close. He knew it by the way her pussy clenched around his fingers, but he loved the way she slowly lost herself to the pleasure he was giving her. It was like being rewarded with a power she always denied him.

He moved his face away when she cummed for the first time, admiring how perfect her neck looked completely stretched out as her head fell back. But his fingers kept moving, stroking her through her high and demanding another one from her.

His hand was supporting his weight on the backrest, next to her head, where she found another support as her fingers digged on his tattoos. With her digits still hooked on his wrist, his hand to her jaw, forcing her to look at him as her second orgasm approached her.

He never thought seeing that woman so close to the edge would be so satisfying, but she for sure topped his expectations with that naughty look he was giving him back instead of looking away.

She was lost in him, but she still was completely conscious of what was happening and who she was with. As much as she loved what he was doing to her, she loved even more letting him know she was in command just as much as he was. Until her high hit her again fast, enabling all of her senses the few seconds it lasted.

Even if she hadn't recovered yet, and with her legs still trembling, she managed to sit on the couch, reaching for his belt to undo it and just have him the same way he had her just a moment ago.

But Jungkook stopped.

—If you suck me off right now, I'll cum in your mouth and I won't even get to fuck you first —he justified himself.

As he bent over, her hand pulled him closer by his nape, linking their lips together before she started taking that black shirt off.

—Who did you dress so well for? —she teased him, raising her eyebrow when she broke the kiss.

—It's what I wear on Saturday afternoons at home.

Jungkook picked her up easily, as if she weighed nothing, locking his hips with her legs before he kissed her again. His room was the main objective, but he ended up pinning her up against the wall roughly, making her gasp against his lips.

—I need you so bad, 3A —he heavily whispered.

—Then take me to that damned room and fuck me.

Despite cumming two times already, she sounded just as desperate for it to happen as he was, and that was driving him insane.

The mattress squeaked under her when he threw her body onto it, almost ripping his clothes off to get rid of anything that kept him from feeling her directly against his skin. And Y/n did the same, taking off the boxing boots and the socks to drag her body in the middle of those black sheets.

Jungkook's growl filled the room when he finally pounded into her after putting the condom on, feeling how perfectly she wrapped around him, taking him in like he was never meant to spend so much time without filling her.

His movements started slow, trying to get her to get used to him and his size, holding onto her thighs to rub his thumbs on her sensitive skin, before she spoke.

—Go faster —she asked, lifting her hips for him.

He went in faster, and deeper, hitting her hips faster with each thrust, just like she asked him to. That was exactly how she wanted to see her the other night. Her hair spread all over his pillow, her face breaking all of the emotions he was making her feel, her breasts bouncing in sync with the rhythm his hips marked and his cock disappearing in her pussy and coming out completely coated in her juices. His thumb moved further, reaching her clit to rub it in circles and give her the last push she needed to start moaning out loud.

—Fuck, you're so tight, baby —he groaned, just when her walls gulped him in tight.

Jungkook was so annoying, but at the same time was so addictive, that Y/n was sure she'd be thinking about that night for weeks. He moved so deliciously well that it seemed like he wasn't even trying.

—You feel so good —she moaned, feeling her eyebrows sinking on the bridge of her nose.

And when he changed the speed and the angle of his thrusts it was game over for her. Having his tip hitting and stroking that spot made her pull the sheets in her fists, while her eyes went blank. He went in as deeper as their hips allowed him to, slowly pulling out before he moved back in again.

—Do you know you sound better live than when you're just touching yourself? —before she had time to ask him what he was talking about, he pointed with his eyes to the small hole she made on his first weeks there— And every fucking time I have to end up stroking my cock because of you. Aren't you tired of being like this?

She smirked, lifting her body up a little, supporting her weight on her elbows to be closer to his face.

—Maybe that was why I was doing it?

The frustration of not even wanting to find someone outside always left her alone with the thoughts of her neighbor doing the nastiest things to her. And it always ended up with a better orgasm she would have if she had gone out to meet somebody.

Was she too loud to tease him? Most definitely, yes. Just the idea of Jungkook hearing her moans was another push to her orgasm.

—Hmm? Let me show you how you can sound even better, then.

His movements were animalistic, out of control, he was hard and fast, barely allowing her to process anything that wasn't pleasure.

—Touch yourself while I fuck you, honey. Let me see how you do it.

Her fingers rubbed her clit with the same energy his hips collided against her -and that made her think they'd leave a mark the next day. She could feel her juices leaking out with each thrust, only driving her closer to that heavenly place she misses, after being there not even that long ago.

—Jungkook —she moaned his name for the first time.

—Say that again.

—Jungkook —the desperation in her voice made her crack in the middle of his name.

How needy she sounded and looked while his name left her lips gave him that one last push he needed to feel like he was floating. His thrusts started getting sloppier and arrhythmic, but he still pounded into her, twirling his fingers with hers to rub on her swollen clit.

Until she stopped hearing, and sight went blurry, feeling all of the hairs in her body raise as she lost control of herself.

Jungkook fell next to her, trying to gain his calm nature back as he controlled his shaky breathing and his fast heart beating, which only went faster when he looked at the woman next to her. Y/n had her eyes closed, moving her locks away from her face, before she finally opened them.

—Are you going to stay the night?

Y/n frowned, quickly turning to him to confirm whether he was kidding her or not, surprised when he looked completely serious.

—You want me to spend the night here?

He just nodded, looking at her with big brown puppy eyes.

—Did they hit you instead of me? —she looked at him surprised, lifting her upper body to look at him properly.

—Last time you made a scene because I left.

—So it's not because you want me to stay here, but because I called you out the last time? —she squinted her eyes, seeing him nodding again— Do you even know why I got mad?

—Because you look tough, but you're a romantic either way —he smiled—. You need a bit of love. It's alright, I'll give it to you.

Why did he always have to speak?

—It's... Are you serious? —she sat up on the bed.

—You don't need to hide it. You grew a crush on me, which it's totally normal —Y/n could only scoff at what she was hearing—. You were right: I need to be a bit more sympathetic with those who like me.

—Those who like you? Are you going to act like you aren't literally begging for this to happen every two business days?

—You don't need to hide it —he sighed, getting up from the bed.

—I'm not hiding anything! —she raised her voice out of exasperation— Is there a camera filming me? Because I really can't believe you're real.

—Oh, a camera... Next time we should try it —Jungkook winked at her.

—There would be no next time, Jungkook. This is the biggest mistake I could've ever made —she whined.

—Sure, sure. Last time you said the same thing, and see where you ended —he chuckled, acting like she was pretending not to like him—. I'll get cleaned up, you can go later.

When the door clicked with him inside, Y/n huffed, dragging her body out of the bed to pick up all of her clothes and her bag to get out of there. She complained when her feet hit something hard on his pants, feeling tempted to pick them up and throw them against his bathroom door, until he touched it and felt a familiar shape.

She only chuckled when she was able to unlock the phone by just sliding her finger through the screen. Not only did she get three orgasms, and a good night -despite Jungkook's big mouth-, she was also going to get rid of the only thing that kept him from helping her.

Jungkook smiled victoriously when he looked through the peephole to find Y/n completely dressed, wearing a simple t-shirt and tight jeans, while she waited for him to open his door. Her face looked a bit swollen, and there were a few bruises on her cheeks, and the wound on her lip took a darker red color, but she still looked as good as always.

He knew it was a matter of time before she came back.

He understood why she escaped to her place and decided to sleep on her own. He didn't mind seeing his room in silence after he took a quick shower -although it made him feel a bit uncomfortable with himself when he found himself a bit disappointed over not being able to spend the night with her.

—What brings my favorite neighbor here? Do you need a bit of sugar?

—No —she pushed him away, stepping inside his house without asking for permission.

—Come in. Make yourself at home...

—I came to talk about what happened yesterday, but not about what you think.

—So you aren't here to talk about sex? —he guessed, seeing her shake her head— Then what is it about?

—The article —she answered before continuing—. I don't care about that video you have. Post it online, do whatever you want. I need your insight on those fights. You have more to lose than I do if you don't help me...

—I'll do it.

—I knew you'd say that. Check your phone and change your mind... What? —Y/n looked at him confused at that sudden change of mind.

—I said I'd do it.

Seeing the lengths she was going to write that article, Jungkook couldn't just let her deal with it by herself. He knew that the previous night's fight was only a start, and she'd only get deeper in all that world she had no business in.

He had nothing to lose, it didn't cost him anything, and no one would know it was him. He didn't know why that article was that important, or if there was something deeper in all that issue that had her digging for it, but it was something she wouldn't be able to do by herself.

—When you abandoned me yesterday —he accused her, making her roll her eyes—, I had a lot of time to think.

—In the ten minutes it took you to fall asleep?

—How do you know?

—You snort like a bulldog. And that hole not only lets you hear my moans, but also your snoring —she pointed out.

—Anyway —he continued—, I'll be the better person and help you. It'd be a waste not to do it. By the way —he stopped—, why should I check my phone?

—Last night I deleted my video while you were in the shower.

Unbelieving of what she said, Jungkook took his phone out to check by himself that the video was indeed gone from his gallery, making him feel so dumb for not making a copy of it.

—Well, thank you for that —she sighed—. I'll tell you how we'll work on it tomorrow —she smiled widely.

—Wait, are you going? We aren't celebrating? Yesterday we left it at...

—Nowhere. We left it nowhere —she interrupted him.

As she closed the door, Jungkook smiled. She tried to hide it, but he was able to tell how much it excited her to have him agree on something she had insisted on so much. He quickly grimaced at himself, shaking his head and taking himself out of that web of thoughts.

He was doing her a favor to be the bigger person in the future, not because of her.

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

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