#SHE HOLDS THE BACK OF HIS HEAD THE SAME WAY SHE DID WHEN THEY WERE KIDS

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 7.

Prev

The gun was cold in your hands. After everyone had left for patrol, you had snuck into Jason's room. Knowing he wasn't in the manner made it easier to do soon. You took one of his smaller guns and 4 boxes of ammo. It took you longer than you would have liked to match the bullet in the gun's magazine. Still you were able to find the right ones. He also had throwing knives hidden in his room which you gladly took.

Now standing on the small private beach in the back of the manor grounds, you shot at discarded cans. Your old tablet played videos on gun safety and how to aim. Still you couldn't hit a can. It was different from throwing a blades.

With a blade there were many factors. How you held the blade played a part. The best way you found was to hold the blade towards you balancing it on your middle and index finger. Than lightly push down with your thumb towards your palm. Bring that up over your head than throwing and releasing. When you released, how much power you put in, and amount of pressure you placed with your thumb depended on distance. Aiming was just a matter of when to let go.

Yet it seemed like very little of that applied to guns. Sure there were sights to help you aim. But that didn't mesh well with how you were used to aiming with knives. Plus the kick back was starting to make your wrists ache. Jason was doing this shit one handed. Maybe you were holding it wrong, the videos weren't giving you a good view. Adjusting your grip you tried again.

Bang. The can stayed upright but at least the gun didn't kick back as much. You were able to keep from flinching too much as well so you were adjusting to the noise. There was a new chip in the rock next to the can. You sighed before setting the weapon down. This wasn't working.

Yes, you had improved. No longer hitting the sand or the cliff face behind your target. Still you weren't hit the can and weren't even that far away. There was no way you could face these guys without a weapon. Grumbling in frustration, you took one of the throwing knives and threw at the can. That one actually hit.

You reached over and paused the video. It was than you heard something. It was faint an inhale of breath from behind some rocks. Breathing throught your nose, you steel your nerves. Going off on Dick ealier was going have consequences. Maybe Bruce had sent someone to take you back. There was no telling. Smiling at the screen, you said, "Break time."

You changed the video to a dance routine you liked. Taking the first position in the dance you waited.

Dance was a hobby you picked up from Barbara. You had watched her do some old ballet routines from when she was seven. Orginially she had preformed them for Dick back when you were one, you could barely remember the movements. Still caused a small spark in you, a want to be like your big sister. The spark remained for two years. You started learning from videos when you were three. You never did them where anyone could see you, preferring to learn privately. In the experiments, you would use the routines in your cell to check that your muscles still functioned properly.

Now you used it as a way to observe subtly. The spins and position changes allowed you to take stock of your surroundings. Mid song is when you saw him.

He was hidden in alcove with a deep green cloak. He was tall around the same height as Jason. A part of you question if he just came from a Ren Fair because of his clothes. However that didn't seem to matter as much as his size and the sword at his hip. He was probably trained to use it too. You didn't doubt he could fight just as well as Bruce. You would have one shot to take him out.

The choreography had you turn away from him. When he couldn't see you grabbed a knife from the holster. Twirling back around, you flung it straight for his head. He caught it by the handle right in front of his throat. Too low. "Impressive. Going for a killing blow before I can start the fight."

The man step forward spinning the blade in his hand. You step back and began thinking of ways out. He stopped five feet away from you and tossed the dagger towards you. "Though your throwing form was off causing the blade to not have as much force. I can excuse that for the creativity of blending it with a dance."

"What?" You caught the dagger feeling it sink into your hand. You turned it subtly allowing the wound to heal.

The man nodded to your hand, "That also makes you intriguing. A girl capable of healing with great potential that needs only to be refined."

The climb up the cliff's edge was not a viable option. You could run into the sea, swim or just let yourself drown. Yet you couldn't judge if he was capable of swimming or if he would buy the fake death. If he came from the experiments he would know drowning didn't actually kill. There was no way out. The man gestured, "Get into a throwing position."

You paused, looking at him. Why did he want you to get into throwing position. If he was take you back than letting you fight him seemed useless. He tilted his head making his gesture again, "Do you not wish to learn?"

Slowly you got back into throwing position. He walked over to you. The first thing he did was kick your legs slightly further apart. Afterwards he made you bend your knees slightly. He than grabbed your hand, paused, and had you pull it back just a little further.

Once satisfied with the adjustments, he walked back to his spot 5 feet away. "Throw."

You did. This time he had to stop in front of his face. The throw felt more powerful and you had an easier time staying balance. With some minor adjustments he fixed a problem you hadn't fully realized you had. This allowed you to grab another blade and get in position quicker.

He smiled once more. "Again." You did, this time aiming for his throat. He caught the knife once more, nodding once again. The two of you practice knife throwing for a few minutes. In that short time he had you do underhand throws and side thows. He clapped after another successful throw, "Enough."

You were out of knives. He moved towards you again and handed the blades over to you. As he handed them to you, he started to speak. "Don’t fuss with the gun for right now. With a blade you are more dangerous to people not paying attention."

Once done he handed you an ornate blade. It was incredibly sharp with a blood red handle in the shape of spider lilies. The handle was a polished wood that shone in the moonlight. There was a sheath underneath the blade that could be strapped to your hip. "When next we meet I will show you how to use this blade efficiently."

"Where will we met again?"

"You'll know." He turned and left without another word. You grabbed Jason's gun before leaving yourself. The whole encounter felt like a dream.

Stephanie was physically watching Orphan's assigned target but mentally she was thinking about (Name). When she first arrived at the manor, she had been fed stories by Tim. Of how she stole his mask and yelled at him for replacing Jason. So as the next Robin she avoided the girl.

Than she became Batgirl for a brief sprint. Which made her made her more wearily about accidentally coming off as replacing Barbara. When she did try reaching out to the girl it was awkward. Plus the girl seem perfectly content living life without her barging in.

Steph had left her be figuring she had plenty of other siblings to bond with. There was no way in a manor full of people she was alone. Right?

God, now she just felt stupid. Assumptions really had made an ass out of her. Right now she was just waiting for the man to get off the phone with whoever he was talking to. After struggling to find anything beyond (Name)'s mother and she had switched task with Cass. The girl seemed more interested in doing the research anyway, so what was the harm.

She would finish investigating for the day, take a nap, than take the girl out somewhere. Maybe have a girls day with Barbara and Cass tagging along. Get their nails done, haircuts, bat burgers, maybe karaoke. Was any of that stuff (Name) was interested in? Whatever the girl had gone through was pretty traumatic, based solely on the breakdown Dick described. She deserved to have a fun day where they could spoiled her. Maybe she could take her rollerskating. Steph stopped her planning as the guy finished the phone. First they had to make sure these guys were handled.

Crashing through the window, Spoiler caught the guy off gaurd. He jumped reaching for a weapon. She grabbed his wrist and pinned him to wall. "Hey Matthew. Let's have a quick chat."

"Look, Whatever you're here for I didn’t do it." The guy, Matthew Jenkins, struggled against Spoiler's hold. He had worked with James and Marcus at a security firm two years ago before spontaneously quitting four days before (Name) disappeared. The same had occurred with two other man, Henry Duncan and Gregory Hartley. Signal had already reported that Henry was dead and had been for awhile. Maybe five or six days

"Oh, okay. So you have no contact to (Name) Wayne?" Spoiler pushed on his wrist a little harder making him cry out in pain.

"Who?"

"Playing dumb won't help you. I already know you were using her debit card to pull cash." They didn't actually know which of five man were pulling cash from the card. Based on video analysis there had be at least three of them making the pulls, so odds were good.

Matthew froze in Spoiler's hand, sucking in a breath. Looks like she was on the right track. "Shit, that girl really was a Wayne?"

Spoiler twisted his wrist just a little bit. He hissed through his teeth, "Yeah. Keep talking."

"Fuck. Look we didn't know exactly what they were doing to the kid. We just watched the room they kept her in and moved her to research room when asked. They usually carted her back when we were on lunch. It was just a good paying job and she never looked to badly hurt."

"How much were they paying you."

"Fithteen hundred a week." Matthew lightly banged his head against the wall, "Shit I should have tapped out when Henry did. I knew the girl was going to get us in more trouble than she was worth."

"Henry Duncan?"

"Yeah. Is he doing okay, we haven't heard from him since he stormed off the job?" Matthew shifted in Spoiler's grasp.

"He was found dead in ditch two hours ago. Marcus Antonio was found shot last night in his apartment." Matthew let out shocked breath and shook his head.

"We are fucked."

"Maybe not. If you answer all my questions I might be able to get you out of Gotham." It was a gamble but one Spoiler had to take. This guy could give her at least a location on where they held her and maybe who was paying them. Especially if three of them were dead. "First, you mentioned Duncan tapping out. What happened to make him leave?"

"They had said the testing was almost completed. They just had one last test to make sure everything was successful before we would know if we'd be getting raises or let go?" Matthew started. "We were informed to never look in the room unless instructed to."

"Henry didn't listen did he?" Spoiler let up on his wrist. He was more scared of these guys than her right now, better to let that fear keep him talking.

Matthew shook his head, "Henry didn't listen. After the final test he got curious because she was oddly quiet. We could usually hear her muttering to herself. He said she looked like a deflated balloon."

Matthew paused taking a deep breath. "We all looked. I don't know what they did but her chest had caved in on itself. There also something growing in her. Honestly I thought she was dead until she blinked. Henry lost it, said he wasn't going down for whatever they had done to her. We all almost walked out but James stopped us. If the last test was marked successful we'd each get a raise to five thousand dollars a week."

"You know what happened to James?"

"The kid killed him. She also took out Greg's eye with a fucking scalpel. No amount of money is that shit." Matthew banged his head to the wall.

Spoiler paused processing. Money was a huge motivation to this guy, so chances were he knew who was paying him. "Where was the money coming from? Not just for your paycheck either."

"The girl’s card and her tuition. Her dad was giving her fifteen thousand a week. They use that to buy a generator and some other shit to keep the building off grid. We would pull cash for them every once and a while but most of it came from the accountant. They would divert the kid's tuition to James, he paid us." That explained where the tuition was going.

"Who was in charge?" Spoiler needed a name. Sure she had a lot to rely back at the cave but she needed just a little more.

"I don't know." The pressure return to his wrist. Matthew started struggling, "I don't know, I work with some intern chick who took notes on girl's status and the accountant."

"Good enough. Give their names." Spoiler gave his wrist one last twist.

"The intern chick's name was Isabella, I never got a last name. Just heard a rumor that she was related to the big boss. The accountant was..."

"Mr. Davis, so glad to finally be able to meet you." The man zip tied to his office chair glared at you. After the training on the beach you discovered you still had five hours before anyone got back to the manor. Using the Gotham Subway you had gotten to Davis' office. Surprisingly the man was still there. Hurriedly packing files into a briefcase. You used the knife to keep him under control until you could zip tie him to the chair. The man had proven right, a knife was more powerful.

You glanced at the files. Documents approving a change in wiring numbers, written approval for changes to the limits on your checking account as a minor, and so much more. All incriminating with Bruce Wayne's signature on the bottom. You turned your gaze to Davis twirling a throwing knife in your hand. Sitting on his desk made you eye level with him, "Now what were doing with these?"

"Fuck you brat." His word turned into a cry of pain as you threw the knife. It cut a line across his cheeks.

Standing from his desk you walk towards him. Pulling the stranger's dagger from the sheath you held it over his hand, above the knuckle of his left thumb. "Let’s try again. What were doing with those files?"

"I'm not scared of a fucking ten year old." Of course. You were a baby faced ten year old. Who would be scared of you? If you wanted information from this man you had to scare him into giving it to you.

Pushing down on the blade, he started to scream. It took a minute find where the blade could cut through. Mangled his hand pretty bad but eventually his thumb came off. He slumped in the chair, panting. Was this how you looked when they cut off your body parts?

"Will you answer me now? I really don't want to have cut off another one." You picked up his severe digit, rolling it around in your palm. There was a disturbing calm in the violence. It was as if you could finally relax. Maybe the experiments had messed with your head more than you thought, "Well."

"Fine. I was told to destroyed them." Davis spat the words out inbetween harsh breaths. Finally information.

You lifted an eyebrow and set the thumb on his desk, "By who?"

"Clint Owen. He was my son's doctor." You began to think through the people you saw in the experiments. There were six scientists that would poke at you. Clint was probably one of them, especially if he was a doctor. They hadn't used names near you.

"What did he tell you about the experiments?" The more information the better, you needed to know what Bruce gained from this. Davis stayed silent. There was an intense staring contest between you two. Finally you sighed, "Okay, fine. Your ring or your pinkie? I'm thinking pinkie, personally."

"No, I'll tell you." Davis started to struggle in the chair as you walked closer. "Owens told me, it was a way to get organs for dying kids. That's all I know, he offered to give my son one of the kidneys."

"Really? You did all of this for a kidney?" At least you knew where your kidney was now. Wrong thing to focus on but your head was getting buzzy from the violence.

"He would have died without it." Davis shook his head. A part of you felt a little bad for cutting off his thumb. The man was just desperate to save his kid. Could you really blame him for that? "Beside, the Waynes needed to be taken down a peg. Why not remind those idiots their money can't do shit to save anyone, even their own? The little bitch had it coming."

Nevermind. You stabbed the knife through his right hand. He pissed himself, gross. You began talking over his screams "Did I ask for your shit rate opinions? No, I didn't. Stick to telling me the facts or your losing the hand. Who was involved in the experiments?"

"Three doctor's from the Martha Wayne Childern's Hospital, One researcher from Gotham U and his student assistant." He screamed the words at you. A part of you contemplated twisting the knife just because you could. When had you got so violent? Eh later problem.

"Names." You sounded bored even to your own. Maybe you should be concerned, how do you get here again?

"I don't know." The darker part of you won, twisting the blade in his hand. He started struggling again. "I'm telling the truth, I really don't know. They weren't on any payroll I had access to."

"Who's Sionis?"

"Black Mask. He provided the weapons for the guards." Oh that wasn't good. Black Mask was violent hopefully you could just ignore him as an ignorant arms dealer.

You paused looking him up and down. This wasn't a lot of information. Yes, you had a name and occupations for some of the scientists. There were also the documents showing Bruce Signed off on this. The paper proved he was involved by themselves. But than the take the Waynes down a peg comment didn't fit. "Who was on payroll?"

"Doesn't matter half of them are dead."

"Is that an opinion?" You removed the knife from his hand.

He paled and began pushing back in his chair, "James Lenon, Marcus Antonio, Henry Duncan, Gregory Hartley, Matthew Jenkins. They were the ones guarding the place. The first three are dead, the fourth guy left Gotham after losing his eye. Jenkins is the only one left in town."

Maybe you could get to Jenkins before he left. Than again those guys didn't seem to know much. You could hear them talking through the door at night. They nickname for the scientists and never talk much about the experiments other than supplies. What else could you get from him, "Who was in charge of the experiments?"

"Owens."

"Are you sure?" Davis paused. He gave you a wide eye pleading look while nodding. You looked out the window while trying to connect the pieces.

If Cass was the one who found 'the school' than you needed a connection between her and Owens. Of course Bruce wouldn't let someone like Davis know he was connected. With Davis's disgruntled attitude towards Bruce, he was likely state up to rat on the wrong people. With no clue about Bruce's real involvement it be easy to brush him off as a rouge accountant. Probably claim forgery on the signatures too.

"Well. I got everything I needed." You flipped the knife in your hand. Grabbing the briefcase you turned towards the door.

"Wait, you gotta let me go." Davis tried shuffling the chair. You looked towards him and considered. He could alert Bruce to your investigation.

You gave him a sheepish smile. "Right my bad." You walked behind him and the smile dropped. The next few moments blurred into your mind but than you were the fire escape. Holding a briefcase and changing into some clothes you had brought with you. Checking time you realized you had 3 hours to get back to the manor.

The rest of your investigation would be on hold until you were fully trained and they were lulled into a false sense of security.

Bruce starred at the body of his accountant. His hands had been mutilated and his throat slit. Written in his blood on the wall behind the body was, "Don’t Forget Me."

Both remaining gaurds had implicated Davis as the one that tranferred the tuition money to them. Said they didn't know names but faces of the scientists. Their last lead pointed to Davis as having more information. (Name) wouldn't tell them anything if they went by her interaction with Dick. Yet he was dead when they got here and all of his financial records had been thrown about the office be covered in blood. It seemed most of the ones on (Name) were missing either way.

The next best hope was to look into Meta Traffickers who went off the grid two years ago. Maybe they could look into doctors too since one was needed for that kind of experiment.

Bruce's eyes drifted to the words on the wall. There was no way they would forget this person. Not until who ever they were was behind bars for what they did to (Name). Bruce's hands drifted to the center pocket of his suit and pulled out a photo.

It was him holding (Name) as an infant. A broad smile on his face as he cradled the squirming infant. Looking back at the scene Bruce made a silent vow to not let the people who hurt her get away.

Prev

Taglist:

@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills @yhin-gg @charlenexoxo1 @a-lurking-fae @moondust-clouds @darkumbreon92 @jsprien213 @bellethesleepypotato @time-shardz @randomlyappearingartist @kittzu @bat1212 @vanilliona @welpthisisboring @plsfckmedxddy @tulnukaz @eyeless-kun @daisy56789

[thebigbadbatswife]

Morning Glory

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Summary - It’s the morning after you and Bruce confessed your love for one another and there’s only one thing on his mind.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY. Established Relationship, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger Woman, Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Morning Sex, Fluff, Bruce's POV

A/N - Part of the same 'verse as Sippin' on Sunshine but both fics are complete standalones from each other so you don't have to read that one first.

Word Count - 2.7k

When Bruce wakes up, he finds you already wide awake. You’re sitting up in bed, scrolling through your phone like he might read the newspaper at the kitchen table. He lays there for a moment, simply admiring your sleepy, dishevelled state. You’ll resist him if he ever says it outloud, insisting that you don’t because how can you when your hair is a mess and you have no makeup on, but he thinks you look absolutely radiant. 

“We made the front page again,” you tell him. Not even bothering to look up from the screen in front of you.

He sighs as he rolls onto his back and stretches, which is followed by a series of loud cracks and pops from his back and joints. It’s just another reminder of his age and all of the damage he’s done to his body over the years. As he shifts in the bed to sit up, he becomes aware of how tight his pyjama pants feel.

“What did we do this time?” he asks, settling his back against the headboard. You hand him your phone so that he can see the article. It’s a picture of the two of you from late last night. You’re straddling his lap in the car and kissing him. It’s right after you told him that you loved him for the first time. His brow furrows. Even in the middle of the night, where the streets are devoid of life, neither of you can get any privacy outside of him locking you away in a bedroom.

The headline reads: “Way more than a PR stunt.” As soon as he sees the writer, he relaxes a little. Lois Lane. Though he knows he can trust her, he still skims through the article to see what she’s written. The entire article is written in defence of your relationship and even goes as far to debunk some of the things other articles have said. He’s going to have to send her a gift basket. A big one at that.

“At least it’s the Daily Planet and not the Gazette,” he says. 

“Oh no, they posted an article as well,” you reply. 

Bruce huffs. “Let me guess, Vicki?” 

“No, it was Ryder this time.”

He huffs again. “Of course it was,” he mutters. He’s really starting to get sick and tired of all of them. 

He sets your phone down onto the nightstand, switching it to silent and placing it screen down. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, in one fluid movement, he’s dragging you down the bed and pinning you to it, fingers entwinning with yours as he holds your hands above your head. 

“I’ll call my lawyers later. For now though, I have something else on my mind.”

Bruce rolls his hips, letting you feel his morning wood press up against you. You gasp as your hips buck, creating friction that has his breath stuttering. Apparently he’s not the only one who’s woken up with a problem that needs addressing.

“Last night you were fretting about your age, yet here you are. Ready to ravage me and you’ve barely been awake five minutes,” you laugh softly.

Bruce hums as he nuzzles his face against you, just under your jaw before starting to press soft kisses to your neck. “How can I resist when I’m waking up to such a beautiful woman?” 

He pulls away and you look at him like you don’t quite believe him. Before you can try and argue against him, he’s pressing his lips against yours. Any protest of his compliment dies on your tongue as you moan into the kiss. As you two kiss, you hook one of your legs over his hip and pull him more flush against you, grinding your groin against his.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, his cock twitching in his pyjama pants.

“I’m hoping we will,” you reply, breathlessly.

“Oh, we’re not leaving this room today.”

He untwines his fingers from yours so that he can pull your shirt off. In reality it’s actually one of his shirts, but you love to steal them from him and he’s not complaining. You look damn good in his clothes, though you look even better with nothing, but some expensive jewellery on. He chucks it to the side, not caring where it falls, and his head ducks down and his mouth is already closing around one of your nipples. He swirls his tongue around the hardened bud before gently tugging on it with his teeth. The action has you gasping as your fingers run through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. He groans again, enjoying the feeling of your nails.

He litters your chest with lovebites before repeating his actions with your other breast. You won’t be wearing anything super revealing for a while. Or maybe you still will. Show off to the world who you belong to. If he ever lets you out of this bed ever again.

Bruce loves the way that you respond to him. Back arching into his touch, fingers buried in his hair, tugging ever so slightly as the softest gasps and moans leave you. Those sweet noises of yours will only grow with his head buried between your legs. That thought has him releasing your nipple and trailing kisses down your body. 

When he reaches you underwear, he smiles. The growing, dark, wet patch on the crotch evidence of how aroused you are. He inhales your scent deeply before licking a bold stripe against your clothed cunt. The taste of you soaked into the fabric has his cock throbbing with the need to be buried deep inside of you. 

Ignoring your protests, he rips your underwear off of you and discards the ruined material somewhere off to the side. You get over the ruined garment pretty quickly, spreading your legs wider and showing off your glistening pussy. Bruce swallows thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing. He settles between your legs, hands coming up to hold your hips, getting ready to dive in and devour you. He’ll have you screaming his name in no time.

A knock at the door stops him right before his mouth comes into contact with you. Irritation flares through him and glares over his shoulder, at the door. At least, whoever it is, has the decency to knock and wait.

“What is it?” he calls, his voice sharp as he refuses to hide his irritation at being interrupted.

“Mr Kent is here. He says it’s important,” Alfred’s voice calls through the door. “And I’m afraid he isn’t going to take no for an answer.”

Bruce sighs. He’s been ignoring every text and call from him all weekend so he could be with– he had promised no interruptions– so he probably should have expected this. Still, if it’s not his public persona ruining things, it’s his mask. Sitting up, you cup his face and bring him close to you, your lips just barely brushing against his own.

“Ten minutes?” you ask.

It’s not the morning, or day, he imagined the two of you having, but it’s better than leaving you both wound up all day. He’s still going to be making it up to you later though and he already has plenty of ideas on how.

“I’ll be down in fifteen,” he calls back.

“Of course, sir. I’ll let him know.”

As Alfred’s steps retreat and eventually fade into nothing, Bruce pins you to the bed again. As he kisses you, you’re shifting beneath him. Your legs coming up to either side of his hips and your toes hooking into the waistband of his pyjamas so that you can shove them down. Finally freeing his cock from its clothed prison. He helps you get rid of them the rest of the way and then he’s spreading your legs further. He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head through your folds, coating himself in your slick. Even going as far as to tease your clit which has you sharply inhaling. Then he’s burying himself inside of you, right down to the hilt in a single thrust. The moan that leaves you is loud. Loud enough that Bruce is sure that it could be heard from well beyond the confines of the bedroom, even without super hearing.

It takes everything within him not to immediately start moving. His mind focused on giving you the time you need to adjust to his size. No matter how many times you take him, he’s still a lot for you and the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. You have other ideas though. You’re too impatient to wait for him this morning so you roll your hips, doing your best to fuck yourself on his cock. It makes holding himself back almost impossible.

“Brucie, please move,” you whine softly. Slowly getting frustrated with his lack of movement.

You always ask him so sweetly. Even without a time limit, how could he ever refuse you? The pace he sets to start with is a slow one. Dragging his cock along the inside of your sensitive walls, relishing in the way they flutter around him as a now quiet moan leaves your parted lips. That moan grows a little louder when he pushes back in. 

His pace grows a little bit each time that he pushes back in. Low groans leaving him, matching your moans. Your hot, wet cunt feels amazing wrapped around him, turning his brain to mush. Not enough though that he’s completely lost himself in the feeling of you. Well, not yet anyway. Give it some time and he’s sure he will.

Soon enough the sounds of skin against skin fill the room, alongside the squelching of your pussy every time he roughly thrusts back inside, growing louder and louder. You mewl beneath him, your cunt squeezing him tighter than before, drawing deep, throaty groans from him, desperately trying to stop him from leaving your warmth. With the way that you’re gripping him like a vice, he knows that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck,” Bruce growls. He pulls away so he can hike your legs up onto his shoulders. The new angle has your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his cock reaches impossible deeper inside of you; turning you into a babbling mess.

He knows that you’re getting close to coming undone. After all, he knows your body like the back of his hand and he can see, and feel, all the telltale signs. The stuttering of your breathing, the tensing of your muscles, the way that your pussy squeezes him more and more, making it harder for him to pull out each time. All you need now is a little push over the edge that you’re teetering on. His thumb presses against your puffy clit, doing his best to rub it in time with his thrusts.

His name leaves you in a sob as your body clamps down on him, your cunt gushing around his cock as your orgasm soaks the sheets beneath you. The sight awakens something inside of him. Something almost primal. His pace slows only for a moment as his eyes become glued to your pussy, taking in the sight of your how your lower lips now glisten with your squirt. 

That moment ends as quickly as it started. As soon as his eyes break away from your pussy and come up to see the half lidded, fucked out expression on your face, he snaps out of his trance. His pace comes back tenfold, starting to fuck you harder and deeper than you would have thought possible. Not even giving you a chance to recover from your first orgasm as he has you headed straight toward the next one.

You’re a ball of oversensitivity, your back arching off of the bed and tears spilling from your eyes as you mewl his name. Whilst Bruce knows that he is completely and utterly pussydrunk. He’s known it for a while, how deep he is under your spell. His pace has completely lost whatever rhythm it once had. Uncoordinated and sloppy as he ruts into you, his cock growing harder and his balls getting tighter, ready to fill you to the brim.

He has half a mind to stay right here. Ignore Clark and spend the day doing what he had intended to begin with. Which involves him staying buried inside of you, keeping you stuffed with his cock and cum. If the previous weekend is anything to go by, it’s certainly something that you would not only enjoy, but deep down crave. Honestly, he craves it as well. 

His thumb stays pressed against your clit as he moves forward, almost folding you in half, so that he can kiss you. The kiss is supposed to be passionate, but ends up being sloppy and messy. It’s all tongue and teeth, but both of you are too far gone to actually care.

Your orgasm takes you both by surprise. Your moans are swallowed by Bruce as the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock, doing it’s best to milk him of every drop he has to offer, sends him over the edge with you. His own moan is deep and guttural as he keeps thrusting, pushing his cum deeper inside of you, like he’s trying to make sure it takes. 

Just as it starts to become painful for him, Bruce slumps against you, letting your legs fall off of his shoulders and back down by his side; his head coming to rest against your chest. The only sound now in the bedroom is yours and Bruce’s heavy breathing as you both come down from your highs.

You run your fingers through his hair as he presses soft kisses down the valley of your breasts and underneath them. He sighs softly, enjoying the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp.

Slowly, and gently, he pulls out of you and rolls off of your body, to lay down by your side. Bruce’s fingers entwin with your own once more and he brings your hand up to his mouth so that he can press a kiss to the back of it. 

His reluctance to leave has you giggling. The sound brings a smile to his face. He is being rather childish in the way that he’s dragging this out. Acting like he might never see you again once he leaves this room. Which, honestly, could be true depending on what Clark has come here to discuss. He shoves the thought away, deciding he doesn’t want to think about that right now.

“I’ll still be here when you get back,” you tell him. You free your hand from his grasp so that you can roll onto your front. Draping a leg over his body, you lean up to kiss him. It’s gentle and sweet, just like you are. When you pull away, he chases after your lips, which has you giggling again.

“Go and save the world and when you come back–” you move forward more and press your lips to his ear– “I’ll do whatever you want.” 

Bruce chuckles as his hand comes down to playfully swat you ass. You gasp and playfully hit his chest. It only encourages him as he gives your ass a squeeze as he rubs his nose against your own.

“You should be careful making such promises, princess,” he says, his voice low. “It might come back to bite you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you reply cheekily. 

Bruce hums as he makes a move to kiss you again. In that exact moment there is a series of knocks at the bedroom door. These ones are louder and rougher. If they were a little bit harder they might forcibly remove the door from its hinges. He grumbles as you pull away and move off of him.

“You should probably go before your friend breaks the door down.”

“If he does that he can pay for it,” Bruce mutters, glaring at the door. He turns his attention back to you. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

He’s already running through the different ways that he can do that in his head. At the top of the list is another getaway, but perhaps for a week instead of just a weekend. He just needs to find someone to look after the city while he’s gone.

[scented-morker]

Skz when their overworked idol!gf faints

thank you to the anon that requested this!! it is LONG and idk why I gave so much backstory for all of them, but yolo! 2.3k words, fainting and overworking, a couple mentions of weight loss, worried and stressed skz. I fear this qualifies as angst

Chan

He's plenty familiar with the signs of being overworked

He's been trying to support you in any way possible, sending you meals to the company building and convincing you to get rest

You feel bad about giving the food away to your members and texting him goodnight while still working, but you're just too much of a perfectionist

He's excited to be on music bank at the same time as you because he's been having girlfriend withdrawals bc of how busy you were

So so happy watching you and your group rehearse, fawning over your oversized hoodie and little dance moves

But right as the dance break ends he sees you go down

Is nervous that you tripped, but he's sure you'll get back up fine and he'll just kiss your boo boos later

But then you don't get up, and he sees your members start yelling for help

When he realizes you passed out 🙃

Screw being secretive, he's jumping up onto the stage, taking his hoodie off and using it to prop your head up, interrogating all of your members about the last time you ate and your sleep schedule

He tells your manager that under no circumstances are you performing anytime soon

You're stuck laying in the green room with doctors surrounding you until the show is over and then instead of being sent home, Chan is taking you himself

You WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF, and that is a threat

Spends the next week fawning over you, cooking you meals and cuddling you half to death

"You scared me, angel. Let me take care of you now."

Minho

When I tell you he's pissed

He was so excited when you told him about your multiple stages for the golden disk awards

Until you're at three rehearsals a day along with fittings, photo shoots, and appearances

He loves that you're booked and busy, but not THAT BOOKED

He wakes up to your goodnight and good morning texts only hours apart and he cant think of the last time you were home for dinner

He's sent multiple paragraphs to your manager and emailed your company, to no response

He keeps telling himself he just has to make it through the award show and then everything will calm down

However, the lights going down at the end of your stage aren't dark enough to hide you fainting half way off the stage, and he doesn't even notice when he jumps to his feet

He gets yelled at to sit back down, and he only does so in order to grab his phone and call your manager ten times until they pick up

"Oh my gosh she's fine, stop calling."

"She just fainted on stage. She's not fine. Where are you?"

They don't want to tell him, but he pries the information out of them and soon he's tearing off backstage to find you

He kicks everyone out, and he looks so scary that they actually listen

"I'm sorry," your voice sounds so small, still weak from fainting and worried that he's mad at you

But he just shushes you, sitting down on the couch you're stretched out on and pulling you into him

"It's ok baby. You did so good. My strong girl. Just rest."

You sigh into the crook of his neck and he holds you backstage for the rest of the show, idol image be damned

Changbin

HIS BABY IS MAKING HER SOLO DEBUT

He could not be happier or prouder if he tried

He knows it's a lot of work, especially since you're producing and writing all of the songs yourself

He tells himself that he's overreacting, it's normal to see less of you when you're working on such a big project

But you always feed him with updates and stories about your day

So when he hasn't heard from you in three whole days, he's showing up at your stage rehearsal

He doesn't care what anyone says, he needs to physically see you or he's going to have a heart attack

He's relieved when you walk on stage, because at least you're alive

But it doesn't take very long for him to notice the dark bags under your eyes or the way your hand is shaking around your microphone

The second you hit the ground he's running

A background dancer carries you off stage, and they barely hit the curtain before he's snatching you out of their grasp

He walks with you so gently, sitting down on a couch and cradling you while the nurse takes your vitals

He's the first thing you see when you open your eyes and it squashes all of the fear that had filled your gut about what just happened

"Hi doll." He coos, and you give him a tiny smile

"I missed you"

Once you're cleared he's ordering takeout to his dorm and taking you home

Your performance is postponed because Changbin still hasn't put you down a week later

Hyunjin

He knows how excited you were to be going on tour for the first time, and that reminder has been the only thing getting him through

Every time you're meant to come home your company adds another night or a new leg, and Hyunjin is SICK OF IT

Poor guy has not seen his girlfriend in OVER A MONTH

He loves you so much that he watches clips of every show and performance

And he knows you so well that he notices the hollowness of your cheeks and the way you've started to struggle to keep up your energy on stage

Buys a ticket right then and there to your next show, not trusting anyone else to take care of you

He's standing in the wings as you and your group finish your first set of songs, rushing off stage to change outfits

He legit screams when you go down, and if the fans didn't notice before they definitely did after that

One of your members picks you up and soon there's a flurry of people running around trying to make sure you're ok

The other girls are shooed away to go change, with a manager insisting "the show must go on"

Hyunjin sends the man what is quite possibly the dirtiest look to ever exist

When you come to, your boyfriend is holding onto you for dear life, fighting away any staff member that tries to talk to you or coax you back onto the stage

He takes you back to your changing room and locks the door, feeding you small bites like a child and stroking a hand through your hair

"Don't worry about them, be here now. I got you."

Jisung

He's shocked when you casually mention news of your comeback at lunch together one day

"Aren't you not even done with this promotion yet? How are you already having another comeback?"

You shrug, saying something about your brother group not doing very well revenue wise and your boss wanting to take advantage of your groups current success

Jisung frowns at that, but decides to keep it to himself, surely as your companies main money maker you'll be well taken care of

But then you don't come home after your music bank performance because you have to run to a dance rehearsal

And then you have to cancel date night to re-record an entire song

Jisung shows up at the first sound check for your new comeback, and you happily give him a kiss before heading onto stage with your group

He frowns, worried about how small you felt in his arms and how weak your hold on his hand was

He sees you teeter once, accidentally bumping into another member before fully crashing onto the stage

He feels like he can't breathe watching the girls try to get you up and responsive

Your fans are screaming and there's a paramedic running over

He's holding onto your hand the entire time your vitals are being taken, tears streaming down his face

Once you're cleared he's wrapping you in a blanket and holding onto you like you're made of glass

When you wake up he's promising to never ever let you out of his sight again

"We're becoming a duo. You're never allowed to scare me like that again."

Felix

He is worlds proudest boyfriend

He gets to watch HIS GIRL perform onstage AT COACHELLA

He'd spent the day with you, taking pictures of your festival outfit and reapplying your sunscreen to try and keep you safe while in the middle of the literal desert

You'd kissed him goodbye three hours before your stage was scheduled for, needing time to get ready and have some extra rehearsal time

He isn't sure why considering you'd had rehearsal every day this week while also making interview appearances and flying to different locations in between instead of sleeping

He's trying his best not to worry, but your eyes are looking hollowed and he isn't sure the last time you slept in an actual bed instead of a plan seat

It makes him sad to see you unable to give your best energy during the performance, though you even at 50% was still the most exciting performance of the day

He plans on being backstage when you exit after at least two more encores, but you apologize for no encore tonight and are only halfway off the stage when you go down

Let's out the worlds biggest gasp

He follows right behind the paramedic that carries you off the stage and into the back, refusing to be more than a foot away from you at all times

He calls and cancels the rest of your appearances himself, insisting that you need to be resting

You do not escape his hold or your bed for the next two days

"Just let me take care of you! You deserve some princess treatment right now."

Seungmin

He's so so excited that you're also at lalapalooza bc that means you guys can spend time together even tho you're working!!

You're even an mc, so he gets to stare at you on the screen backstage, which just so happens to be his favorite hobby

He wasn't expecting your group to actually perform considering you'd just finished the Japanese leg of your tour and had been performing every night for the last few weeks

But he sees your stage listed on that days performance list, and he frowns thinking about it

He'd made you tea last night after you'd showed up to his hotel room on the verge of losing your voice, and you were so tense when you laid down that he'd rubbed your back for almost an hour with no difference

"Are you sure you should be performing?" He asks as soon as he enters your changing room

"No, but it's just one more stage and then I get to rot in bed for a while. So I'll be okay."

He still doesn't like it, and he shakes his head but gives you a hug anyways, rubbing a soothing hand down your arm

"You better."

He's so stressed he can't stay in the boys waiting room and he stands under the stage as he watches the lift take you and your group up

He catches a glimpse of your performance from the monitor to his left, and he barely breathes until you're taking your last bows

It isn't until the stage starts moving to bring you back down that he sees you wobble uncertainly before falling onto the ground

All of your members jump in surprise, but they don't even have time to react before he's jumping up with them, the lift not even fully on the ground yet

He picks you up and lays you down on one of the spare blankets backstage, propping your head up against his torso while the rest of your body lays between his legs

His thumb rubs your cheek while the medical team checks you out, clearing you when you become responsive

You blink up at him slowly, eyes shiny from unshed tears

"I guess I was wrong."

He sighs, letting you bury yourself into his chest

"That's okay, I've got you now."

Jeongin

End of the year award shows were no joke, and Jeongin knew you were working hard for your performances

Your group had just finished promoting your last album when the never ending flood of award shows started, and he'd found you knocked out asleep in the most random places the past couple weeks

He hated that your group had such loud antis, because he knew how much pressure you were under to prove yourself

You'd told him about the strenuous dancing you were doing, learning borderline acrobatic tricks while conditioning like you were trainees all over again

He'd done his best to remind you to rest and slip protein bars into every bag you owned, but he knew you were past exhausted

He momentarily forgot his worrying when you were performing, and he let out cheers and danced with the rest of his group while you and your members put on an incredibly challenging performance

But all of the fun was drained out of the air when he saw you go down on stage as soon as the camera zoomed in on your maknae's ending fairy

The lights drop, and Jeongin whips his head around in every direction, trying to think of anything he can do to help

Hyunjin asks him to “go to the bathroom” with him as soon as you’re offstage, and that’s all the clearance Jeongin needs to go running backstage

You’re already awake when he finds you, small tears slipping down your face while you nurse on a water bottle

You can’t even say hi before he’s practically tackling you, pulling you so close that you can feel his own heartbeat in your chest

“Are you okay? Oh my gosh you scared me. Don’t ever do that again.”

Your members leave the two of you be while Jeongin clings to you, refusing to let you go for hours, constantly brushing his hands against your heartbeat

[aryadelvich]

Here’s a story from this request

Summary : Luigi has a secret crush on you. Both of you attending the same university. When you ask him for help with math, what starts as a simple study session quickly gets spicy !!

Warning : explicite content 🔞🔞

I don’t know why this song feels like Luigi in college.

Luigi stood in the university hall, leaning casually against a wall as his friends joked around. Though he appeared to be listening, his focus shifted the moment he saw you descending the staircase.

His gaze lingered longer than it should have, tracing the determined set of your jaw and the way you clutched a paper tightly in one hand. There was something different about you today—your usual cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a tense, distracted air.

Then your eyes met his.

Caught off guard, Luigi looked away quickly, his pulse quickening.

"Oh, look. It's Y/N," one of his friends said with a teasing grin, just loud enough for you to hear.

As if on cue, the group turned to look at you. Luigi let out a quiet sigh, his jaw tightening. He had noticed you from the very first day of class but hadn't said anything to his friends. And now, they were practically gawking.

You stopped mid-step, offering the group a polite smile. "Hi, guys."

Your gaze flickered briefly to Luigi, and this time, you greeted him with a smile that held just the faintest edge of teasing.

"Hi, Luigi," you said, your tone light.

His throat tightened, and his response came out awkwardly, barely audible. "H-hi Y/n"

You stepped closer, holding out the paper in your hand. "I need help with applied mathematics. You're taking it as a minor, right? And from what I hear, you're pretty good at it."

"Oh... yeah," Luigi stammered, unprepared for your directness.

Before he could offer a proper response, one of his friends cut in, raising a hand dramatically. "I can help you too, Y/N!"

"Yeah, me too," another added, clearly trying to impress you.

Luigi shot them both an annoyed glance. "Back off," he muttered, though his tone remained light enough to pass as joking.

You raised an eyebrow, amusement flashing in your eyes. “I’m gonna choose whoever scored the highest on the last test gets to tutor me."

The group fell into a brief silence, and then the scores started coming in.

"71."

"82."

"89."

"80."

Finally, Luigi spoke, his voice calm and steady. "95."

Your lips curved into a grin. "Well, looks like we have a winner. Luigi, you're my tutor."

The subtle pride in his expression didn't escape you, though he tried to play it cool.

"How about tomorrow at the library?" he offered.

You shook your head. "I need to study tonight—my retake is the day after tomorrow. Your place or mine?"

Luigi froze, your words echoing in his mind. Around him, his friends erupted into laughter, elbowing each other and exchanging smirks.

"M-my room... if that's okay with you," he managed, his voice suddenly tight.

"Perfect," you said with an easy smile. "I'll see you after class, then."

As you turned and walked off, Luigi stared after you, his thoughts racing.

"Dude, did you hear that? She literally said, 'Your place or mine.' That's your chance !" one of his friends teased, slapping him on the shoulder.

Luigi shoots them a sharp look. "Shut up. She just needs help, that's all."

"Sure, sure," another friend says, smirking knowingly.

But Luigi doesn't respond. He's too preoccupied with the thought of spending time with you alone. Ever since you entered his life, you've had a way of unsettling the calm, logical order he's used to.

[7 PM]

Luigi paced nervously in his room, adjusting the books and papers on his desk for what felt like the hundredth time. He smoothed the creases in his shirt, glanced at the clock, and took a steadying breath.

A soft knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He opened it to find you standing there, arms full of notes, a faint smile on your lips.

"Ready for an intense night of applied math?" you joke.

He steps aside to let you in, trying to mask his nervousness. "I hope you're prepared to work hard because I'm a tough teacher," he quips.

You laugh as you take a seat at his desk, spreading out your notes. Luigi watches you discreetly, wondering why your presence alone is enough to make his heart race. He pulled up a chair beside you. He sits next to you and opens a notebook filled with neatly organized notes. His subtle cologne lingers in the air, and you can't help but notice how focused he looks when he starts explaining.

"Alright, show me what's giving you trouble," he says, gesturing to your notes.

You flip to a particularly challenging problem. "This one. Honestly, equations like this make me want to quit. Differential equations are a nightmare."

Luigi chuckles softly. "They seem daunting, but once you understand the logic, it's not so bad. Let's break it down step by step."

He explains with patience, his calm voice guiding you through each line. As complicated as the topic is, his methodical approach makes everything click.

"Oh! I get it now!" you exclaim, your face lighting up. "Why didn't anyone explain it like this before? It's so obvious!"

He grins, clearly proud of your progress. "See? I told you it wasn't as hard as it looked."

You work together for a while, your confidence growing with each solved problem. At one point, as you reach for his notebook, your fingers brush against his. The brief touch makes you pause, and you notice him quickly look away, his ears turning red.

"Sorry," you murmur, pulling your hand back.

"It's... it's nothing," he replies, his voice quiet.

The atmosphere grows heavier as you both become more aware of the growing tension between you.

At one point, your hands brushed as you both reached for the same pen. You pulled back quickly, but not before your gaze met his. A flicker of something passed between you—brief, but undeniable. Luigi looked away again, clearing his throat.

Luigi leaned closer to point out an error in your notes, his shoulder brushing against yours. You froze, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was.

"Here," he murmured, his raspy voice lower now, almost intimate.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in the slight crease in his brow as he concentrated. The sharp lines of his jaw, the faint curl of his hair—it all felt too distracting.

"Got it?" he asked, his tone snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, focusing back on the paper.

But even as the night continued, the unspoken tension between you lingered, growing in the quiet spaces between words. Neither of you dared to name it, but it was there—electric and impossible to ignore.

A few minutes later, after tackling another problem, Luigi leans closer to explain a particular detail. His proximity sends a wave of nervous energy through you, but you fight to keep your focus. When his elbow accidentally brushes against the side of your chest, warmth spreads through your body, pooling low in your stomach. 

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice tinged with embarrassment. 

"It's fine..." you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

But your concentration falters as your thoughts begin to wander. Your eyes trace the lines of his hands—large and strong, with long, deft fingers. Veins crisscross his forearms, disappearing into the back of his hands, and the way he grips the pen exudes a quiet confidence. His arms are muscular, his collarbone defined, hinting at the sculpted frame beneath his shirt. 

Your gaze dips lower, involuntarily lingering at his crotch for a moment too long. You can't help yourself. Luigi has always been a contradiction: introverted and composed, yet brimming with a quiet fire, a confidence you've never fully understood but can't help wanting to unravel. 

Your eyes shift back to his face, and you find yourself studying him anew. His profile is striking—an angular jawline, lips that seem almost too perfect, and a thick beard that he likely trims every day. His brows are bold, framing a gaze that is somehow both piercing and gentle. There's an elegance to his nose and a wildness to his untamed curls, as though he doesn't care enough to control them. 

You're not sure what's happening, what this magnetic pull between you means. And judging by the faint tension in his movements, neither does he. 

"Alright," Luigi says, his voice breaking through your reverie. "I'm going to give you an exercise now. It'll cover everything we've gone over so far. You'll work on it yourself while I keep an eye on your progress." 

"Okay," you reply, nodding eagerly, grasping at the distraction. 

He steps back, giving you space to focus. For a few minutes, you immerse yourself in the task, scribbling out equations and trying to channel all your thoughts into solving the problem. But then you feel him again—standing behind you, his presence throwing your concentration into disarray. Your mind strays to places it shouldn't, thoughts you can't control flaring to life. 

Luigi crouches down beside you, his arm resting on the back of your chair. The closeness feels almost deliberate, his movements steady yet unassuming, as if he's unaware of the way he's affecting you. 

"Look here," he instructs, his voice low and firm. 

He reaches for your pen, his fingers brushing against yours once again. The contact feels electric, sending a jolt through you. He corrects the mistake with a confident stroke, then places the pen back in your hand. 

Your eyes lift to meet his, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The air between you feels charged, heavy with something unspoken yet impossible to ignore. You both break the gaze at the same time, awkward and unsure. The tension hangs there, undeniable yet unaddressed.

He leaned closer, his curly brown hair falling into his face as he pointed at a particularly confusing problem. "Okay," he said, his voice soft but confident, "tell me what the derivative of this function is."

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. Your eyes flickered to his face—his sharp jawline, the faint stubble, the way his lips curved into that patient smile. He caught your gaze and tilted his head, his brown eyes narrowing playfully.

"Focus," he teased, tapping the page with his pen.

"I... I don't remember," you admitted, flushing slightly under his scrutiny.

"Hmm." He clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that made your stomach flutter. "Wrong answer. But don't worry, we'll get there."

He scooted closer, his thigh brushing against yours, and you felt a jolt of warmth shoot through your body. His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. "Let's break it down step by step. Think of it like building something from scratch—you start with the foundation, right?"

You nodded, though your attention was less on the math and more on the way his hand gestured animatedly as he explained. God, why does he have to be so damn attractive? His rolled-up sleeves revealed the veins running along his forearms, and you couldn't help but imagine how they'd feel under your fingertips.

"So, if f(x) equals 2x squared plus 3x minus 4," he continued, writing out the equation neatly, "what's the first step?"

Your mind went blank again, but this time it wasn't just because of the math. The proximity was getting to you—his woodsy cologne, the warmth radiating off his body, the way his leg pressed against yours. You shifted slightly, trying to focus, but it was impossible.

"Uh..." you stalled, glancing up at him.

His lips quirked into a knowing smirk. "Wrong again," he murmured, leaning in even closer. His breath ghosted over your ear as he whispered with his raspy voice, "You're not paying attention, are you?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Maybe I need a different kind of lesson," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Luigi froze for a moment, his pen hovering mid-air. Then, slowly, he set it down and turned to face you fully. His expression was unreadable, but there was a heat in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh?" he said, his voice low and velvety. "What kind of lesson did you have in mind?"

You hesitated for only a second before reaching out and placing a hand on his chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath your palm, steady and strong. "One where you show me exactly how much you know," you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your boldness.

His lips parted in surprise, but then his eyes darkened with something primal, something hungry. He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"Positive," you breathed, closing the distance between you.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and everything changed. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you dizzy, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you in a way that made your toes curl.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were hooded, his pupils blown wide with desire. "If I'm going to teach you anything," he murmured, his voice rough, "you're going to have to follow my rules."

You nodded, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "What are they?"

A wicked grin spread across his face. "Every time you get a question wrong," he said, trailing a finger down your arm, "I stop. No touching, no kissing, nothing. Until you get it right."

"And if I get it right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His grin widened. "Then I'll reward you appropriately."

Before you could respond, he grabbed the textbook again and flipped to a new page. "Alright," he said, his tone suddenly serious, though his eyes still burned with mischief. "What's the integral of sine x?"

Your brain scrambled to recall the formula, but all you could think about was the way his thumb was tracing circles on your thigh. "I don't care."

He shook his head, clicking his tongue again. "Nope. Wrong." And just like that, he leaned back, his hands dropping away from you.

You groaned in frustration, but there was a thrill in the challenge, a fire igniting deep within you. "Fine. Try me again."

This time, when he asked another question, you forced yourself to focus, determined not to let him win so easily. And when you finally got the answer right, the look of pure satisfaction on his face was worth every second of torment.

"Good girl," he purred, pulling you back into his arms. His lips crashed against yours, his hands roaming your body with possessive intent. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you as he explored every inch of your skin.

But just as things were heating up, he pulled away again, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Next question," he said, his voice thick with arousal. "What's the limit as x approaches infinity of 1 over x?"

You bit your lip, your mind racing. "Zero?"

He smiled, slow and dangerous. "Correct."

And then his lips were on you again, his hands everywhere at once, until the only thing you could think about was him—his taste, his touch, the sound of his ragged breathing as he whispered your name.

But just as you reached for the hem of his shirt, he stopped you, his grip firm. "Wait," he said, his voice hoarse. "What's the area under the curve of y equals x squared from 0 to 2?"

You blinked, your brain struggling to catch up. "Uh... 8/3?"

He grinned, his hands sliding up your thighs. "Exactly right."

And then he kissed you again, harder this time, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other, desperate and wanting.

But before things could escalate further, he broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he stared into your eyes. "Last question," he said, his voice shaking with restraint. "What's the probability of us finishing this without any interruptions?"

You laughed breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. "Slim to none."

"That's what I thought," he growled, pressing his forehead against yours. "But I'm willing to take the risk if you are."

His hands slid up your thighs, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body. The air in the room was thick with tension, every breath you took filling your lungs with the scent of him—clean sweat, cologne, and something uniquely Luigi. His brown eyes locked onto yours, dark with desire, but still glinting with that playful intelligence that always seemed to disarm you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "What's the derivative of e^(2x)?"

You froze for a moment, your mind struggling to focus on anything other than the way his fingers were now tracing circles on your inner thigh. Think, think. You bit your lip, trying to recall the formula. "Uh... 2e^(2x)?"

A slow, approving smile spread across his face. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice low and smooth like honey. His hand moved higher, his fingertips grazing the edge of your panties. You gasped, arching into his touch, but he paused, his smile turning teasing. "Next question. What's the integral of sin(x)? If you get it wrong, I stop."

"Luigi," you whined, squirming under his hold. His thumb pressed against the sensitive spot just above your knee, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. "That's not fair."

"All's fair in love and math," he teased, leaning back slightly to give you space to think. His confidence was infuriatingly attractive, and you couldn't help but laugh despite the ache pooling between your legs.

"The integral is -cos(x)," you said quickly, hoping to end the torture.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Brava," he said as he pulled you closer. His hands slid up your sides, lifting your shirt over your head before you could even process what was happening. The cool air of the room hit your skin, but his body heat chased away any chill. His lips found yours again, hungry and demanding, while his hands explored every curve of your torso.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. He chuckled against your mouth, letting you undo them one by one until his chest was finally bare. Your hands roamed over his abs, tracing the ridges and feeling the tightness of his muscles. He groaned softly, his hips pressing up into yours, and you could feel how hard he already was through his pants.

But before you could take things further, he pulled back again, his breathing ragged. "One more question," he said, his voice rough. "What's the limit as x approaches infinity of (3x^2 + 2)/(4x^2 - 1)?"

You groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. "Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious," he said, his fingers trailing down your spine, making you shiver. "Answer correctly, and I'll make sure you forget your own name."

You could barely think straight, but you forced yourself to focus. The answer came to you in a haze. "Three over four?"

His smile was wicked as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your neck. "Very good baby," he breathed, his hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin. "Now, let me show you how well I can reward good students."

In one swift motion, he stood, lifting you with him as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and he carried you to his bed, laying you down gently before climbing over you. His kisses trailed down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his lips closed around your nipple, you gasped, your back arching off the bed.

His hands worked quickly, pulling off the rest of your clothes until you were completely bare beneath him. His eyes drank in the sight of you, and the hunger in his gaze made your stomach twist with anticipation. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Before you could respond, his lips descended lower, kissing a path down your stomach until he reached your core. You tensed, your hands gripping the sheets as his tongue touched you for the first time. The sensation was electric, sending sparks through your entire body. He licked slowly, deliberately, driving you insane with the unhurried pace. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pressed two fingers inside you, curling them in a way that made you cry out.

"Luigi!" you moaned, your hips lifting off the bed as he worked you with his mouth and fingers. Every stroke, every lick felt like it was unraveling you piece by piece. You were close—so close—but then he stopped, looking up at you with that devilish smirk.

"What's the value of pi to five decimal places?" he asked, his voice steady despite the slickness on his chin.

"Are you fucking kidding me—" you started, but he cut you off with a pinch to your thigh.

"Answer correctly, and I'll finish what I started," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You clenched your fists, frustration and desperation warring within you. "3.14159," you spat out, glaring at him.

His grin widened, and he didn't waste another second. His tongue dove back in, and this time, he didn't stop until you were trembling beneath him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as pleasure consumed you.

When you finally came down, he kissed his way back up your body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it only heightened the ache between your legs. His cock pressed against you, hot and heavy, and you reached between you to free him from his pants.

As soon as your hand wrapped around him, he sucked in a sharp breath, his hips jerking forward. "Y/n" he muttered, his voice strained. "You're going to kill me."

You stroked him slowly, savoring the way his eyelids fluttered and his breath hitched. But before you could tease him further, he grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head. "My turn," he growled, settling between your legs. The tip of his cock pressed against you, and you both groaned as he pushed inside, inch by inch.

It was almost too much—his size stretching you in the best way possible—but he gave you time to adjust, peppering your neck with soft kisses. When he finally bottomed out, he stilled, his forehead resting against yours. "Tell me this is okay," he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"More than okay," you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please, Luigi. Don't stop."

He didn't need to be told twice. His hips began to move, each thrust hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. His rhythm was relentless, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. You clung to him, nails digging into his back as you urged him on. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer, and each time he swallowed your cries with a kiss.

The coil in your stomach tightened again, your second orgasm building faster than you expected. "I'm close," you gasped, your legs shaking around him.

"Me too," he panted, his movements becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to—"

"Inside," you interrupted, the word coming out as a desperate plea. "Please."

He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts became harder, deeper. With one final push, you shattered, your climax tearing through you like a storm. He followed moments later, spilling himself inside you with a guttural moan. For a long moment, neither of you moved, too lost in the aftermath to care about anything else.

Finally, he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so you were curled against his chest. His heartbeat was rapid under your ear, and his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. "Thank you," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked up at him, grinning despite your exhaustion. "For what? Being a genius at math?"

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "For trusting me." His expression turned thoughtful, and he tilted your chin up so you were looking directly into his eyes.

You stride confidently through the university hall, a triumphant smile lighting up your face. Spotting Luigi, you rush toward him and throw yourself into his arms without hesitation. 

"So, what did you got ?" he asks, barely able to contain his excitement. 

"Ninety-seven! Luigi, you're incredible!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The curious stares from other students don't faze you in the slightest. 

"I'm proud of you, Y/N!" he says, his tone full of warmth and pride. 

"Well, I had the best tutor anyone could ask for," you reply with a teasing grin. 

Not far away, Luigi's group of friends watches the scene, their confusion evident as they exchange glances, silently trying to piece together what they're seeing. 

"How about we celebrate properly? Dinner's on me," Luigi suggests, his smile growing wider. 

"Absolutely!" 

Without thinking, you lean in and kiss his cheek, the gesture natural and full of gratitude. Luigi chuckles softly, his ears turning just a bit pink, but he doesn't pull away. The buzz of the hall seems to fade, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of joy.

GIRLS IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS ASK ME I WILL DO IT WITH PLEASURE !!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK !!!

[love-quinn]

— THREAD OF GOLD

summary — a thread of moments that defined your relationship with mike.

warnings — uh i don’t think there are? me not caring about the irl timeline of events and making up my own shit cause i can. also i switch between past and present tense like nobody's business so we're all gonna pretend we don't notice that.

pairing — mike faist x fem!famous! reader

pronouns — she/her

word count — 7.8k + social media posts

note — hi sorry i’ve been MIA i’ve been working on this for 5ever truly it came to me one day and i couldn’t write anything else. this isn’t edited because it’s nearly 8k and i’m not about that life.

important note that i tried to make it so yn’s skin tone changed in at least some of the pictures to make it more inclusive but pinterest fought me SO hard i spent maybe four hours just finding images. this is NOT meant to be a depiction of what yn looks like, just a general vibe of the images used in the thread <33

ONE. july 2017

California doesn’t have seasons the same way your hometown did. California has two seasons: wet and dry. You grew up in the suburbs of New York, in Westchester county, about an hour north of Manhattan. You went to the city a few times growing up, but you spent almost all of your upbringing on a quiet street with a cul-de-sac and a park a street away. 

You’d lived in California for a while, you were based there for most of the year, but you’d still say you lived in New York. You were lucky enough to be at a break between projects where you got to spend more than a few weeks at a time at your New York apartment. 

You’d been back maybe two weeks and knowing that you didn’t have to go back to the west coast for at least six months felt like a major weight off your chest. Finally retreating back to your cocoon, the air around you still felt thick, but this one felt more like a wall keeping things out rather than one keeping you in.

So, naturally, the first thing you did with your newfound seclusion was to venture outside with a man you’d been trying to go out with for a few months now. 

You and Mike had known each other for a little over half a year now. You’d met at a new year’s party hosted by a mutual friend of a mutual friend and you had known immediately that he was someone that you wanted to know desperately. You’d been elated that he seemed to reciprocate. Unfortunately, with your work schedules, this was the first time since January that you’d had enough time in the same state. 

He was unlike anyone that you had ever met, and now that you were in the same place, you were revelling in his presence. He’d taken you to a park near his apartment, he’d let you hold his hand on the subway and you were pretty sure that he was going to kiss you later. 

It had been a while since you’d been outside - like, properly outside, and Mike was enjoying how happy you seemed to be. While you’d been trying to organise yourselves, Mike had spent hours on the phone with you, trying to avoid sounding so disgustingly happy that he scared you off. This may have been your first real date, but Mike already knew that you were it for him. 

You were chattering about a story from your childhood, and he was really trying to listen to you, but he was focused more on the way the golden hour was hitting your face, and the way you would subconsciously squeeze his hand when you made yourself laugh.

“Yeah, since then my mom makes sure that she puts the cat treats away whenever he comes over,” you giggled. Mike let the sound fill him from the inside. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by you dropping his hand. “I’ve needed this,” you let your head fall back to bask in the dying sunlight. “Air that I’m not sharing with Buzzfeed HQ, grass that is made in real dirt.”

“I see,” Mike nodded seriously. “You’re not even here for me, you were just waiting for a guy to take you to see some trees.”

You reach back and grip his hand, eyes sparkling directly into his. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, “for knowing your place.”

He laughed and let you drop your hand again, watching fondly as you speed off in front of him, stopping maybe fifteen feet in front of him. “Will you come with me to the emergency room when I fall out of the tree I’m about to climb.”

Mike was sure you could see exactly how much he wanted to kiss you from the look on his face. He laughed, nodding. “That’s actually the next stop I had planned anyway.”

TWO. october 2017

You couldn’t remember dolling yourself up for a date in so long, but it was clearly paying off the way that Mike hadn’t let you out of arm’s reach the entire cab ride. You hand two hands on his arm and he’d been talking in your ear the whole ride. 

You were taking him to lunch at one of your favourite places in the city, quiet, not visible from the street, with a wonderful goat cheese salad. He’d been ecstatic that you were clearly showing him parts of your life that you kept close to your chest. 

The two of you had only been together properly for about three months now, but you’d known each other for nearly a year. Mike hadn’t really dated anyone in the industry before, definitely not publicly. 

You’d mentioned to him a few of your past dating experiences before, and you had been steadfast on the fact that if you were going to have a relationship that it would be as completely private as possible. 

Mike didn’t think he’d ever hesitated less to reply - he was all in, same page. It felt simultaneously too fast and too slow. You’d been dating for three months, sure, but he’d known you since January, and it had felt like that first seven months had been confirmation that he liked you again and again and again.

Mike had been calling you his girlfriend to everyone, his friends, his family, some of his closer co-stars. But as he sat across from you at the restaurant, he realised he hadn’t actually asked. 

He valued communication, he thought he was pretty good at it. But he’d settled into such a comfortable settlement with you that it had slipped his mind entirely. You didn’t mind. You were on the same page as him. 

You referred to him to those closest to you as your boyfriend. You weren’t sitting around, desperately waiting for him to ask you to be his girlfriend, if that’s how you felt you would have asked him before you got to this point. 

The two of you were doing what you usually did, you ordered a few different things with the intention of sharing, and Mike, as usual, was way more interested in what you had picked than he had. 

You were giggling across the table at him, watching the way the breeze from the window by your table kept blowing his hair into his mouth. .”Here,” you took the scrunchie from your own hair and stood up, coming to a rest behind him. 

He tilted his head back - good for him, he could see your face; bad for you, you couldn’t grab all his hair - while you worked and after a second you’d tied his hair up out of his face. 

You moved to return to your seat, but he half-lifted himself from his chair to make sure he got to kiss you before you left. “Thank you, honey,” he said softly. Your thumb rubbed his cheek with a soft touch.

“‘s okay,” you mused, looking at him. He loved the look you got in your eyes when you were fully concentrated on his face, he wondered if he got the same look when he saw yours. “You look cute.”

“Says you,” he mumbled, looking down at your outfit. He could tell you’d put in extra effort, he wanted you to know it hadn’t been for nothing. “Y’look so pretty today, can’t believe I get to be the one here with you.”

You giggled, preening under his thoughtful gaze. You could feel your cheeks growing warmer, but you made yourself not look away from him. “Yeah?”

He turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand. “Can’t believe I haven’t asked you to be my girlfriend properly,” he sounded so positively disappointed that you couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t laugh at me, it’s embarrassing.”

You giggled a little bit harder. “Oh, baby,” you let your thumb brush his lips, soaking in the way he kissed the pad of the finger. “Can’t be embarrassed, I didn’t even realise.” Mike hummed in question. “Don’t know,” you shuffle in place. “in my head you’ve been my boyfriend for like six months.”

“Thank god,” Mike laughed, letting his head drop. “Quick, sit down, I need to ask you to be exclusive so I can tell people that I did.”

You pause for a second before nabbing the fork on his plate, scooping up a piece of chicken before sitting back in your chair. “Go on, then, boyfriend.” You take a bite. “Get it over with, I’m hungry.”

THREE. december 2017

You were curled into Mike’s side when you got the text. You didn’t usually look at your phone when the two of you were together, but he was watching a documentary about something that didn’t interest you, while you were reading a book on your phone. 

He had his hand sitting on the back of your neck, knuckles brushing a line from the nape to the top of your shoulder. It was one of your costars from an earlier project, sending you a link.

“LMAOO not people”

It was a People magazine article, one that instantly had you rolling your eyes. Mike sensed your shift in mood and laid his palm flat on the curve of your shoulder. “Okay?”

“People says we’ve been together since…” you scrolled through the article.” “October last year,” you snickered. 

“Cant believe you didn’t tell me.” Mike let his head fall back against the sofa. “I wish,” he said as an afterthought. 

“You didn’t even know me back then,” you pointed out.

Mike leaned forward and kissed your temple. “Still,” he said, concretely no but with supreme amounts of gentleness. “I’m sure I would’ve wanted you with great desperation.”

You and Mike had gone through conversations before about revealing your relationship to the public. You had little to no intentions of doing that, especially not so soon. But you’d wanted to manage expectations.

You’d become famous young, not as young as some, you’d only been twenty when you landed your first major role. You’d done principal photography during your summer break in college, working towards getting your degree, and by the time you graduated you had two feature films and one golden globe nomination under your belt.

You’d had a college boyfriend at the time, it had ended naturally, not without pain, but not as a result of your blossoming career. The magazines had eaten it up, though, with all sorts of speculations. 

You didn’t want that again. You didn’t owe them anything. And you were so grateful that Mike seemed to share the sentiment. You were so grateful to your fans but you knew at the end of the day that they didn’t own you, which is why you were not above lying to them to keep them out of your life. 

Especially when the comments of the post were already filled with dozens of suggestions to who it could be. Not when your friends, your coworkers, or random strangers who hadn’t done anything other than be someone people thought you might like if you met them, we’re getting their personal lives dug into in order to confirm a suspicion that a stranger had about you.

Not when you were curled up in the arms of one of the kindest most charming men you’d ever known, one that you might even want to spend the rest of your life with. He definitely didn’t deserve this, and neither did you.

So, you went into your camera roll and found a selfie you’d sent to one of your friends a few days earlier. You typed up a short sentence and then hit post on your Instagram story without thinking too hard about it. 

When you showed it to Mike he smiled endearingly. “Aw man,” he mumbled, pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell me we broke up.”

FOUR. march 2018

Days on set were long, they were often exhausting, and they were where you’d thrive.

You’d finally wrapped after thirteen hours, and the first thing you did when you got your phone out of your trailer was to text Mike. 

He was in New York still, but you guys had been speaking as often as you could. With him three hours in front of you, it often ended up in the two of you just missing each other. Mike had texted you four hours earlier while you’d been filming.

You look pretty here. 

It’s a Vanity Fair video that you filmed about a month ago with one of your costars. It was a movie about love, being in love, loving people, loving places, loving time. Your character was the main romantic love interest to the main character, and she was one of your favourite characters that you’d ever played. A young woman who finds love in her career, love in her family, and eventually begins giving it to the main character. You and your costar had become very close, and you were talking candidly to them in the video about your experience with love. 

Mike had sent you a screenshot of the video, where you’re smiling across to your costar. It had been a simple question they’d asked; have you ever been in love. 

Now, you couldn’t say blatantly, “yes, I have a boyfriend.” And you couldn’t say that for two reasons. Number one, you and Mike had been so careful to the point where you didn’t even think your fans knew that the two of you were aware of each other, let alone that his tongue had been in your mouth. 

And number two was that you hadn’t actually told Mike that you loved him. You did, god you did. You probably would have told him months ago if things were more normal. If you both worked 9 to 5s, you lived primarily in the same city, you could go on dates and pull him over to the side of the sidewalk, interrupting him mid-sentence to kiss him.

Unfortunately, you’d spent months apart, and while you spoke multiple times a day, at least through texts, it felt like not the right time.

You try to brush off your smile as you reply to him. Stop ittt you’re giving me an ego <333. In that exact moment, you know what you’d been spewing some media trained answer that avoided mentioning your partner but still felt authentic. “I’m just really glad that I spent most of my early twenties trying to find myself before trying to find someone else, I guess.”

Mike took a moment to reply. Guess you didn’t find me :( 

You giggle as you finish changing back into your own clothes out of the costume you’d just been wearing, ready to head home now that your last scene of the day had concluded. Nope! You sought me out 100% I actually have no idea who you are. 

That time the reply was instant. This is awkward then. What else is instant is the knock on your trailer door, the way you wrap your arms around him once you’d thrown open the door, and the knowledge that you’re going to tell him that you love him.

FIVE. september 2018

Mike knows that most people are more nervous to meet their girlfriend’s parents than he currently is, and ironically that actually does make him nervous. 

It wasn’t really his first time meeting them, he’d spoken to them on the phone before and he’d even texted your mom a couple of times when you’d asked him to. You’ve been his girlfriend officially for almost an entire year, but the two of you both agreed that you felt you’d been together since July of the year earlier. That was over one whole year together. Even if your parents didn’t like him - which, based off the amount that not only he’d spoken to them, but you’d talked about him, seemed almost impossible - it wasn’t going to be the be all or end all. 

But he wanted your mom’s birthday brunch (of which she was very serious about) to go well as his first official family event that he attended as your boyfriend. 

The two of you were getting ready at his place, as you do most days that you’re in New York. You spend maybe two or three months in your home state and as you and Mike are together for longer and longer, you spend as much time together as you can. Mike had not only let you spend every second you could at his apartment, he’d actively encouraged it. 

You’re wearing an outfit he’s seen on you a hundred times, standing in front of his bathroom mirror as he ducks in to grab his phone. He stops behind you, watching you apply mascara, and places both his hands on your shoulders. 

“Love you,” you say absent-mindedly, trying to focus on not stabbing yourself in the eye.

He squeezes your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck, the closest part he can reach. “Love you more. I’m ready to head out whenever you are.”

You lean back so your face is no longer just inches from the mirror. “Reservation’s at 11 so we should probably leave soon,” you say. “Give me five or so minutes.”

You let him hold your hand the entire way to the restaurant, knowing exactly how nervous he is. He’s a grown man, he knows your mom already loves him, but he appreciates that you don’t say any of this as he follows you into the restaurant.

Your mom is already there, with two seats beside her that Mike knows are reserved for you, and she leaps out of her chair at the sight of you. You greet her with a hug and a happy birthday, having let Mike hold the gift so he felt less like he was coming empty handed (you’d bought it together).  The second you’re out of her path, she’s coming for him. “Oh, it’s so lovely to finally get to meet you!” She’s gushing over him and he’s trying not to look embarrassed in front of you. 

He fits right in with your family, sitting on your left hand side while you sit pride of place beside your mom. He gets caught up in one of your mom’s friend’s conversations (“Oh I just adore Broadway, what’s it like?”) and that’s when your mom takes the opportunity to lean over and whisper over her bellini to you. 

You lean in so you can hear her without much strain. 

“I’ve never seen you look this happy.”

You beam back at her. 

SIX. november 2019

You’re thinking of selling your California apartment. 

You know it’s probably a bad idea, and that because you spend so much time in LA, it’s good to have a place to call home. But you also feel like it’s keeping you tied to the west coast. That you’re more likely to spend more time in California if you have a place there, and that’s not something that you want anymore. 

You’ve been in California for the last nine months, it’s been longer than that since you’ve seen your family, your friends, or your boyfriend. You missed your two-year anniversary because you spent the day on set and Mike wasn’t able to fly out due to his work schedule. 

You have your co-stars, people you spent months with every day that you genuinely enjoy being around - one of them you even worked with on a past project, you spend a lot of your free time with them between takes - but it’s not the same.

And now you’re done. You have over seven months until press from this movie begins and then you have to start working again. Normally, you’d stay in California while you looked for another project to latch onto, but that wasn’t what you wanted to do. 

You missed Mike, plain and simple. He was in New Jersey filming a movie, but that’s about as far away as he’d be if he was in New York. You knew of plenty of actors who didn’t live in LA and still made it work just fine, and as far as home states went, you could definitely have done worse than New York. 

“I think if it’s something you want to do you should look into it.” You’d called your boyfriend to have him either talk you into or out of it, but frustratingly all he’s done is point out that it’s your apartment and that he’d be kind of an asshole if he pushed his opinion on your assets onto you. 

“I want your opinion,” you let out a dramatic sob, sitting at your kitchen counter. Your phone is on speaker while you’re on your laptop, answering emails. 

Mike laughs, it’s crackly through the phone but you know the ins and outs, the layers of breath. “My opinion is that you should do what feels right for you, and I’ll back you up no matter what.”

“You’re annoying,” you grumble, changing tabs to instead look through your camera roll. You had a few days left to post one of your monthly photo dumps, something you much preferred to posting consistently. There was one photo that your camera roll had put in the forefront, of you at dinner with Mike and two of your mutual friends to celebrate his 27th birthday. You’d taken the photo almost eleven months earlier, and hadn’t done anything with it, but you did think you looked cute.

“I love you,” he offers instead.

You hum in response, bringing up the photo. “Is it weird if I post a photo from your birthday dinner? You’re not in it, obviously.”

He laughs at your bluntness. “Right, because why would I be in it? It’s only my birthday.”

That brings you out of it. “No, wait,” you giggle.  “Just cause I don’t want them to know that it’s your dinner, idiot.”

Mike groans. “I was gonna ask when you next are coming home but I actually don’t care anymore about it.”

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me what to do about my apartment.”

“Forgive me?”

“Fine, I love you or whatever.”

Mike laughs again, and you don’t even notice the crackles. “Or whatever.”

SEVEN. november 2019

You don’t think you’ve laughed this hard in a while. 

“I’m sorry,” she moans, leaning on your shoulder. 

You’re with one of your closest friends, sitting on your sofa, almost crying with laughter. You’d been staying with her while the sale of your California place was going down, with every intention of moving back home to New York after it was done. She’d commented on your yearly photo set, talking about a photo of you and your mom, and you’d realised exactly where people’s minds would go.

“No,” you giggle, “I was the one who decided to be messy and post the photo.” You’d posted a photo that had been taken of you and Mike when he’d come to visit you on set the year earlier. Everyone knew it was old, you’d thought it was funny, and sure you had probably revealed a little bit too much about your relationship, but Mike had thought it was funny too, so that was enough for you.

Your favourite part, though, was that not a single person had commented, tweeted, messaged you asking who he was, if he was your boyfriend, or what was happening. You hadn’t seen a single person give a fuck. 

The two of you had been sneaking around like teenagers and literally no one had cared, so Mike had allowed you to be a little messy on your Instagram feed. 

“If I’m the reason you and Mike get doxxed you can feel free to post any blackmail you have of me,” she promises. You can tell she feels awful about the possibility of having just exposed your multi-year long relationship, but if you’re honest you think it’s kind of funny. 

You wave her off. “No, I guarantee no one even cares. Worst case scenario someone asks, you just tell them you were talking about the photo of me and my mom, it’s so fine.”

The reason that you’d posted that photo now was because when it had been taken, things were definitely too new to be making hints towards it, and you would have posted a more recent picture but that was literally the only one of the two of you you could fine. 

And the best part was while all this was happening, so blatantly obvious to everyone who knew, you still got so many comments, dms - fucking interview questions - asking if you had a boyfriend, and every single time you’d either dodge it or outright say no. 

Your phone vibrated; a text from Mike. 

Rachel told me she hasn’t seen a single tweet about it and if anyone would have seen it it would be her.

yeah i run a stan account of you and haven’t put my phone down in 8 years - rachel :))))) She sends an entire row of kisses with hers. 

You’d met his costar a few times, only over the phone, and he sent you pictures of the two of them together on set often. You heart her message, giving his a thumbs up and knowing that she’d appreciate that. 

“See, it’s fine.” You show your friend. 

She breathes an audible sigh of relief. “In my defence you did post the photo.”

EIGHT. june 2020

The plan had been in the works for six months before it got derailed. Your California apartment had officially been sold, and you were set to move in to Mike’s place until you settled back in. Once things had calmed down with work for the two of you, you were going to start looking for your own place together. 

You’d ended your lease in your New York place, you had all of your stuff - not that you carted much around with you anyway - most of the furniture you had came with the place, and you’d donated or sold most of it. You had been living off of display furniture and minimal decorating, knowing that wherever it was would sit vacant most of the time anyway. This was going to be it, where you finally started building a life, and you’d be doing it with Mike. 

And then the country had gone into lockdown and, after a very lengthy conversation, the two of you had decided to relocate back to Columbus, Ohio, where he had a place for when he went to visit family.

It had been a fast move, but you’d planned for every thing that you possibly could have. Your family was safe, in New York, and you knew that was the best place for them to be. Your dad had an autoimmune disorder, so you knew that even if you were living in the city you wouldn’t be able to visit them much anyway. After three years with Mike, spending most of your relationship states away, you couldn’t let him leave without coming with him. 

So, there the two of you were. In Mike’s house in Ohio, one that was entirely familiar to him and somehow, it felt that way to you as well. Like you knew him so well that anything he knew was something you instinctively understood. 

Despite how long you’ve known Mike, how long you’ve loved him, you feel a bit like you’re taking over his space. Like when he moves something to make room for one of your trinkets that you’re minimising him in his own home.

He doesn’t let you think that for long. Sometimes you’ll come into your shared bedroom and find him rearranging his bookshelf so your books fit too, moving his Grammy to a shelf where there’s enough room for it to sit beside your awards, changing the sheets to a set that you’d picked out. 

You’ve been a successful working actor for the last eight years now, for almost five of them you’ve forgotten what it’s like to go outside and not worry that you’re going to be spotted. 

Sure, when you go outside now, you’re masked and there’s less people outside to recognise you. But to the people you do run into, you’re not an actor to them, not a celebrity, not anything. You’re Mike’s girlfriend. 

You can understand how that’s frustrating, you are your own person, but after three years of being together but constantly apart, you’re okay with your neighbours knowing you simply as Mike’s girlfriend. 

Now that you’re always in the house your screentime goes way down, you don’t need to text him anymore. All of the things that had you stressed and anxious to leave the house for have changed. And of course the state of the world is by no means good, but if everything is going to be happening anyway, you’re glad that you’re able to be with him during it. 

NINE. october 2020

You had become a bit of a homebody in the 9 months that you’d been living in Ohio. You only ever left the house when Mike did, and you didn’t go with him every time. Mike can tell it’s starting to wear on you a little bit. 

So, in an effort to pick yourself up a bit more, you’ve started doing all the grocery shopping. You and Mike make a list together so as to not give you all the mental load with it, but you walk down the few blocks to the small general store.

It’s convenient, a nice place, with a pharmacy attached to one side and a bakery on the other. Sometimes you take Austin and the girl who works at the bakery puts a bowl down for him while you go in and get your medication.

Sometimes you drive, when you have the aching exhaustion that only comes with being sad for hours on end, or when it’s raining, but the fresh air and just the act of being outside was usually enough to make you feel better.

It was late, and the pharmacy was closing soon when you realise you’d forgotten to pick up your medication, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll zip down and grab it while Mike makes dinner. 

You’ve slowly started setting down roots here, the shop assistants know your name and your prescription, they know you and Mike have officially moved into the mostly vacant house a few streets away, and they know that you seem like you’re maybe not always doing the best, because they’re always extra kind to you when you need it.

You like the domesticity. Sitting on the kitchen counter while goes through the fridge, telling you what to write down. Walking his dog - Austin absolutely loves you, which Mike did tell you is normal for most people - or holding his hand with his spare one on the leash. 

You’ve been really tired lately, and despite the fact that it’s meant to be your time to be by yourself and get fresh air, you find yourself in the kitchen, arms around your boyfriend’s waist. “Please?” You ask. 

Mike’s stirring something cheesy on the stove. You can smell it behind the wall of his cologne, the smell of wood and cinnamon. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he laughs and you feel the vibrations where your cheek is pressed to his back. “It’ll be cold by the time we get back.”

Your voice is small, and he knows he has zero intention of actually saying no to you, but he’s wondering if you’ll change your mind given a little bit of coaxing. 

“We have a microwave.” He wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t so close to him. 

He loves you, and he’s also not blind. He can see you’re struggling. He likes to think he knows exactly when to give you space, and when you need him there. He puts the spoon down on the cutting board he has beside the stove and turns off the gas. “Okay,” he says comfortingly. 

You brighten, and he feels you stand up straighter. “You’ll come with me.”

Mike doesn’t even pretend to think about it this time. “Of course I will.”

TEN. february 2021

Press was finally happening for your project that you had filmed all the way back towards the end of 2019, and with that came your first ever zoom interview. It was a bit awkward, you’d never really liked doing press much face to face but now online it was worse. 

You and Mike had both found it a bit weird. He’d done a bit more of it in 2020 than you had, so you’d asked if he’d be in the room where possible to help ease your nerves. 

You were in your bedroom, set up at the designated Work Spot. You and Mike had made an agreement, no work was to be done outside of the Work Spot. It was the only thing that stopped it bleeding into your everyday life, especially now that you were working from home. 

Mike was out of frame so you could still see him, sitting in the corner reading a book. He’d glance up at you every single time you looked at him, like he could feel that you needed him. 

Things were going well, it wasn’t a standard interview with an interviewer, but rather you’d been given a list of questions that the group of you took turns asking the others and then answering yourself. 

There was a bit there where you knew you had a note written down about something important, but you’d written it on Mike’s phone. It was the only one near you at the time, and you were actively regretting it now.

You muted yourself on your computer and tried to subtly gesture for him. He notices you immediately and comes to stand right beside him. 

“Can I grab your phone really quick?” He hands it over.

“You okay?” He asks, wary of the camera he’s standing just outside of frame of. 

You unlock his phone and open up his notes app, trying to find what you’re doing. Mike didn’t have a phone case until you met him, but you’d cajoled him into a clear on“Did you…” you hum. “Did you move my note?”

You handed Mike back his phone and told him what he’s looking for and he scrolled for a second. “No?” He frowned. “Uh…” he bites his lip. “Oh wait, I cleared out a bunch of stuff hang on.”

You can hear everyone else, so you know no one has clocked your absence yet. “Found it,” he hands you back his phone and pulls up the one. “This one?”

“Love you,” you say in lieu of an answer. He gives you a look that makes a smile worm its way onto your face. 

Mike goes to sit back down as you skim through your note, ready to have your talking points ready. “Love you,” he calls back. 

When it’s eventually your turn to answer, you turn your microphone back on like nothing ever happened. And your costars, who all knew everything were was to know about exactly who you’d been talking to, all kept their mouths shut too. 

ELEVEN. august 2021

The material of your dress was scratching his skin, but Mike couldn’t seem to mind when you were so deliriously happy. In one hand you had a glass of champagne and in the other a beautiful bouquet of flowers that you’d snatched from the air after it had left the hands of your childhood best friend. 

People had been giving him knowing looks about it since then, upturned smirks and elbows to his ribcage. Mike laughed it off. The two of you were good, and he knew that you weren’t the type of girl to expect a proposal just because she caught the bouquet. 

Over the course of the night he had stood by, chatting idly with another group of plus ones. He’d met your best friend countless times, but there was no denying that he would not have been invited if he hadn’t been with you for the last four years. He was just happy that you seemed to be having a good time. 

Eventually, you staggered over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You weren’t drunk, didn’t need to be, you were simply so elated to not only be able to leave the house without feeling anxious but also to be able to celebrate your best friend getting married. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He chuckled, your nose pressed to his adam’s apple. 

You hummed. “Yeah. Tired. Happy. Miss you,”

He ran his hand along the back of your dress, cringing at the material. “‘M right here.” 

The night was winding down, it was out in a big greenspace that they’d rented, the sun had well and truly set. You were basking in the glow of the massive outdoor lamps they’d set up, and they bathed you in a golden hue. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you said genuinely. “I’m really happy.”

You were swaying on the spot slightly to the faded jazz playing in the background, and he let his arms envelope you, pulling you impossibly close to him. “Of course, baby,” he’s beaming wide, his voice low and soft. You can hear how happy he is.

It’s your first time being back in New York since you left, your longest stretch away from your home state in your whole life. The two of you have started looking for work again now that things are starting to open up. Mike’s riding the high of his West Side Story performance, he’s been getting offers since it came out. He hasn’t taken any of them, though, instead focusing on smaller things that he likes more. The TV show he’d spent a while filming in Texas had been cancelled, which was a shame because you really enjoyed watching TikTok edits of him in that. 

Instead, he’d been waving off scripts his agents sent him. He’d been asked to do a screen test in a movie in the UK, but he didn’t seem to interested in it. The most interesting thing about it was that his screen test was apparently with Zendaya, so you’d encouraged him to go just to meet her. 

Things are picking up again. Your agent’s sending you offers and auditions and after two years of not being on set you’re itching to get back.

But, getting back meant going back. 

You’d settled in Columbus. You didn’t want to leave, but you and Mike both knew that you’d have to go back to New York. 

It was something that you’d been talking about for a while, getting another place in New York. You’re fortunate enough that it’s something you’re able to afford, and it seems like a good idea. It doesn’t need to be discussed tonight, though. 

Instead, you ask him quietly, “Are we ever gonna get married?”

Mike mused, “Do you want to?”

You’re playing with the longer strands of hair on the back of his neck. “I think I might. With you.”

“Yeah?” He asks. He feels so warm inside there’s glee practically pouring from him. 

“Not right now, though,” you admit. “I think I want more of a career before I’m willing to become known as someone’s wife.” Mike knows exactly what you mean, and that even though you eventually want to be his wife, that regardless of what you’ve accomplished, from that moment on there will be people who know you exclusively as ‘Mike Faist’s wife.’ At this point in time, you’re not even known as his girlfriend, a fact that the two of you enjoy. 

“You just let me know,” he hums. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

You’ve been together almost four and a half years now and still no one knows. You don’t really need people to. 

You kiss his jaw and reach down to take off your heels, complaining about your feet. He takes them from you and watches as you make your way back towards your friends. He knows he’s going to ask you one day, and he knows you’ll say yes. The two of you know just how much you love each other. You don’t need anyone else to just yet. 

TWELVE. november 2021

So, a new arrangement has been reached. You n’t living in New York permanently but you have a lease on a place together. You’re back to doing live press, with the movie finally being shown in theatres. To be completely honest, you’re pretty much done with press on this movie. When you were cast in it three years ago, you didn’t expect that you would still be doing it. 

Mike is sympathetic but amused. They haven’t organised the screen test for that one movie yet but that’s because the director was working on another project and the one Mike had been scouted for had been pushed back for a short period. 

Sometimes companies will send you a car to come to your interview, but you take the subway home. Mike comes with you most times, more than happy to come tag along and sit in a room with your stuff and bring you your water bottle between shoots. 

“Thank you, baby,” you tell him genuinely the fourth time he does it. He kisses your forehead. “You didn’t have to come with me, I appreciate you.”

He hums as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “I need to earn my keep somehow, I’ve been your stay at home boyfriend for like two years.”

You giggle around the straw of your water bottle, softening at the way he reaches to take it from you. “And your services have been appreciated and they will be missed when you inevitably book again.”

It’s not something that you expect to be so comforted by. The knowledge that wherever you’re living - Ohio, New York, California, wherever, even if you’re in different states - that you just love being around him. No matter how much time he spends with you, he doesn’t get sick of you, you don’t get sick of him. 

You’re infinitely happier when he’s within arms reach than when he’s not. 

“Only book I care about is the one I’m reading over there,” he leans in to kiss you briefly. The director of the shoot gives out the five minute warning to roll into the next section, Mike takes your phone and water bottle and heads back to his corner. 

It’s almost comedic, the way that the producer immediately starts the next section with asking you “Do you have a celebrity crush?”

You have to make a conscious effort to not look over at Mike, even though you know he’s watching you. 

“Uh,” you laugh awkwardly, “I don’t really have one.”

Your coworkers’ faces are stone, and you don’t know if that make you want to laugh more or not. You keep your eyes directed straight at the barrel of the camera and you know everyone’s going to see how uncomfortable you are. 

“I guess having one when…” you struggle to find the right words, “when you are where I am in life, is just kind of weird,” you laugh again. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”

You finally let your gaze land on your boyfriend. He’s smiling at you, and you calm immediately knowing that even once you’re out of this building, back on the train to your one bedroom, your hand in his, sharing earbuds, he’ll be there. 

THIRTEEN. april 2022

“Tell me again, what she said,” your feet are in Mike’s lap. You have people over, and you can’t imagine being happier. Your apartment is bustling, a charcuterie board that you are very proud of on the kitchen counter. You still have New Years decorations up, and there’s music playing. Mike got back from his screen test a week ago, and you’re revelling in his presence again. 

Mike takes a sip of his drink and moves so he’s resting his arm on your calf. You have a few of your friends sitting on the sofas around you, hanging on to every word. “She told me to tell you-”

You interrupt him, too excited “She brought me up!” You giggle over your champagne. 

Mike giggles, the side of his mouth pinching up with his smile. “Zendaya wanted me to tell you that she had just seen your most recent movie, and that she thought you were really good in it.”

You flail back so you’re resting on the arm of a friend. “Zendaya knows my name.”

One of your friends puts his drink down on the coffee table. “Don’t you guys have a Grammy in your bedroom, why are you surprised by this?”

“It’s not mine,” you roll your eyes, tipsy off the champagne and drunk on the party. “I would never take credit for my wonderful boyfriend’s accomplishment.”

“She’s taken so many selfies with it,” the friend you’re leaning on chimes in. 

Mike laughs and almost as if by magnet you’re trying to get closer to him. Your head comes up beside his, resting on the wall behind the couch, his hand on the back of your neck. 

You don’t even know what you’re celebrating. Just being able to have people over, having a space to have them in. Having someone you’d want to host a party with. 

“Okay, and?” you shoot back. “You’ve taken selfies with me.”

He’s kissed the hollow of your collarbone, his hair, getting longer now, tickling your neck. You love him so much, you’re surprised there’s enough room in the apartment for all your guests with how much space it’s taking up. 

The apartment itself is obviously a new development in your life, but the area isn’t. Just two streets over is the apartment you were living in when you met Mike. Barely furnished, not decorated, not lived in. 

A place so physically close to the room you’re sitting in with a group of people you love more than life, but that couldn’t have possibly been further away. Now you have family pictures on the wall, you have his toothbrush right beside yours. You have a ticket to the show of Dear Evan Hansen you went and saw right when you two got together, sitting front row in the audience and marveling in the fact that the man onstage liked you, pride of place in your clear phone case. He has a ticket stub from that time a theatre in Columbus was playing a rerun of your feature film debut and he’d dragged you with him to go see it wedged in his. You have a delicate chain around your neck with an M on it so well hidden it might as well be lost to legend, he has your first initial hanging on his keychain.

It’s been five years, three lived-in states, several hundred shared meals, and an apartment just two streets away, but as you laugh at a story someone is telling, your cheek pressed against Mike’s, you’ve never felt closer to home.

[luvismenu]

> motive — pt.5 ,, index ! nsfw

. . brother's bestfriend!jungkook au . .

wc: 4.6k+

warnings: banter, teasing, lots of cursing ofc, kissing, some oral (fem recieving), fingering, clit play, he's kinda aggresive, jungkook being a dick in the end, cliffhanger-ish?

jeon jungkook is so fucking stubborn.

once he sets his mind on something, there’s no going back. if he thinks something might hurt someone, he won’t ever risk it. he doesn’t change his mind, doesn’t budge, doesn’t care how annoying it is. he’ll stick to his decision no matter what.

it’s a stupid habit, but he’s always been like this. and honestly, you’re starting to think he always will be.

you’ve known that ever since the bike incident from when you were kids. it was your brother’s bicycle. you really liked it, and you wanted to ride it secretly because you knew jimin wouldn't let you. you begged jungkook to let you, but he refused. your brother had told him, very seriously, that it would break his heart if you fell and got hurt. and, of course, jungkook listened. he took your brother’s words like gospel and never let you touch the bike.

it didn’t matter that you cried about it. even though he looked a little guilty seeing you bawling your eyes out, he still wouldn’t budge. your brother’s feelings came first, even if you were sitting there heartbroken.

and that was when you were four, and they were nine

jungkook never told you why he didn't let you touch your brother's bike either. you only know about this because jimin told you when you grew up. which really pissed you off.

maybe it’s a silly thing to still think about, but it’s just so annoying that he hasn’t changed. he’s always been like this— choosing what’s “right” even if it makes you mad.

sure, he’s not your best friend, but that doesn’t mean you both didn’t grow up together. you were always there, tagging along, watching him and jimin get into all kinds of trouble. and your brother always found ways to keep you quiet, too.

“jungkook, let's carry her on the way home.”

“jungkook, give her your candy so she won’t tell mom and dad.”

and it worked.

every time.

it was fun, you won’t lie. making them beg you not to rat them out, holding it over their heads. oh, it was so fucking fun.

it’s still almost the same, you know all your brother’s secrets, and by extension, jungkook’s. growing up with them, you picked up more than they ever wanted you to. and, well, why wouldn’t you use that information to your advantage? sometimes for fun, sometimes to get what you want.

and what did mufasa say? it’s the mother fucking circle of life.

“saw that you were with taehyung a few days ago,” jimin says casually as he pulls on his jacket.

you’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling through your phone. you’ve been debating whether or not to text jungkook, but you don’t want to look desperate. still, your fingers keep itching to type something.

your brothers words make you pause, but you don’t look up. instead, you respond simply, “yeah.”

“why?” he asks, his voice closer now. you glance up to find him standing right behind you, staring down.

you shrug, keeping your eyes glued to your phone. “just because.”

and then, without warning, he snatches the phone from your hands, holding it high above his head. you gasp, jumping up immediately.

“oh, you son of a—”

“careful,” he interrupts with a smug grin, “we share the same mother.”

you glare, crossing your arms. “give me my phone back.”

“answer me properly,” he counters. “do you like taehyung?”

your face scrunches in immediate disgust. “no! he just wanted to meet up and talk. you know, because he helped me with my projects back in middle school, and we were kinda like friends.” you emphasize the words as you uncross your arms, as if reminding him.

jimin sighs and finally lowers your phone, which you snatch back with lightning speed.

“okay,” he relents, “just don’t get too close to him.”

“why?” you deadpan, raising a brow. “because he’s a model too, and you’ve got some secret rivalry with him?”

“because he hurt my best friend,” jimin snaps, his tone sharp, “and i don’t want to think about it.”

you shut your mouth, his words leaving no room for argument. the silence between you grows thick for a moment.

then, finally, you speak up. “whatever. i’m going to watch a movie. don’t disturb me.”

“i won’t, cuz i’m going out,” jimin says, grabbing his car keys from the table.

“with?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

“your mo— wait, shit, we have the same mom,” he mutters, catching himself, and you scrunch your nose in disgust but can’t help the small smile that slips out.

“your crazy model friends?” you fold your arms again,tilting your head.

“yes, my crazy, stupid, but rich model friends,” he grins smugly, “just like me.”

you roll your eyes and turn around, flopping back onto the couch dramatically.

“oh, and jungkook’s coming over,” he says as he heads for the door.

your ears perk up immediately, and you shoot up, blurting, “why?”

“it’s the weekend. he’s gonna sleep over,” jimin replies casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. and to be fair, it kind of is— jungkook crashing at your place is pretty routine. but the thing is, he’s always here for jimin, not you. all you and jungkook do is bicker whenever he’s around.

“but you’re going out,” you frown, watching him open the door.

“bro, this is my house, i’m coming back of course. don’t worry,” he says, rolling his eyes like you’re being ridiculous.

“but i don’t—”

“shush,” he cuts you off, stepping outside. “i am gonna be late because of you. take care of the house and don’t fight with jungkook.”

before you can argue back, he’s out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

you stare at the door for a moment, then slump back onto the couch, muttering to yourself.

“yeah, like that’s fucking possible.”

it doesn’t take long for jungkook to show up. the front door swings open casually, and he walks in like he owns the place, not even sparing you a glance. he heads straight for the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, chugging it down like he just ran a marathon.

must’ve worked out.

you hear his footsteps as he walks into the living room, where you’re sprawled out on the couch, pretending to ignore him. well, pretending to mind your own business, at least.

your eyes flick to him briefly, and yep, there he is— in those stupidly attractive gray sweatpants and a black compression shirt that clings a little too well to his body. if you look at him for too long, you’re pretty sure you’ll do something you’ll regret.

nope. not worth it. you’re supposed to be mad at him.

what is annoying, though, is how quiet he has been ever since that conversation with him a few days ago. jungkook isn’t supposed to be quiet around you. if anyone gets to ignore anyone here, it’s you.

selfish? maybe. but it’s just you and him.

it is what it is.

“get up,” he says, standing right beside the couch where your legs are sprawled out. “i need to sit.”

you glance at him briefly and then smile. “there’s plenty of space,” you say, your voice sickly sweet. “outside. in the garbage bin.” your smile drops as you finish the sentence, and his frown deepens, his brows pulling together in a way that— unfortunately, makes him look even better.

even hotter.

“i wanna watch the movie too,” he says, ignoring your jab.

“too fucking bad,” you retort, keeping your eyes on the tv.

the notebook plays on the screen, and for a second, you think of how much you and jimin love this movie and how you all used to watch this movie when you were younger (but old enough to watch it). jungkook always sat through it with the two of you, even though you know it’s not his thing.

“i just came back from the gym,” he starts, his voice edged with frustration. “i could use some rest.”

“go to the other room, then. use the bed to res— hey!”

you’re cut off mid-sentence as he grabs your legs, effortlessly lifting them up. before you can protest, he flips them off the couch, forcing you to sit up as he plops himself down beside you.

he leans back, completely unfazed, and looks at the screen. “thanks,” he says smugly.

“fuck face,” you mutter under your breath, glaring at him.

your hands itch to smack the smirk off his face, but you just huff and turn back to the movie, crossing your arms in annoyance.

you grab your phone, your fingers moving quickly as you text yumi because you genuinely have no idea what to do or say right now.

you: how can this mfker sit here and act like nothing happened!?

yumi <3: he's at yours!?!?

you: yeah, sleepover

yumi <3: where's ur bro

you: out

yumi <3: so u're alone tg 😈

you: help me bae. he's acting like i didn't literally say that i fucking want him?? what do i do

yumi <3: what u always do babe ,, provoke him.

you glance over at jungkook, still seated on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. his jaw is clenched slightly, and your gaze trails down his arm, taking in his tattoos, the way his biceps flex subtly as he rests his hand on his thigh. and that’s when an idea hits you.

without a word, you get up and walk to your room. you don’t notice it, but his eyes flick to you as you leave. his gaze lingers for a second, curious, but he quickly forces himself to look back at the screen.

in your room, you swap your pants for a pair of shorts— really short shorts. short enough to reveal your thigh tattoo.

you glance at yourself in the mirror and adjust them slightly, smirking to yourself.

with newfound confidence, you stride back into the living room. jungkook is still on the couch, his attention glued to the movie. he doesn’t even glance your way when you enter— typical.

you catch sight of the clutter on the glass table in front of him: bowls and empty cups.

perfect.

you move around the couch approach the table from the other side so he can see the tattoo and start tidying up, picking up the bowls one by one, moving slowly, purposefully. you stretch your leg just slightly as you reach for the furthest one, your thigh tattoo now fully visible.

jungkook notices. and oh, you can tell by the quick flick of his eyes, the way his jaw tightens for just a second. but he doesn’t say a word, keeping his gaze locked on the screen like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

you hold back a frustrated sigh, heading to the kitchen to put the bowls away. when you return, he’s still pretending not to notice you, still sitting there as if nothing’s changed.

so fucking stubborn. for what, though?

you stop and take a deep breath, deciding to try again. this time, you walk directly in front of the tv, deliberately blocking his view as you pretend to move things around the room.

he frowns almost immediately. “move out of the fucking way,” he says, voice sharp and annoyed.

“can’t,” you say, keeping your tone light and casual. “i’m busy doing something.”

you cross the room again, back and forth, shifting random items like it’s the most important task right now.

“do it later,” he snaps, the irritation growing in his voice. “i’m watching this,, aren’t i?”

you scoff, turning on your heel to face him. “so fucking what? you’ve seen this movie like, a hundred times!”

he stares up at you, still frowning. “what the fuck do you want?” his tone is calm, too calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach flip.

you cross your arms, glaring at him. “you know what i want.”

he raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenching as he leans back into the couch. “do i?”

“yes,” you snap as you glare down at him. “don't act stupid, jungkook. you know exactly what the fuck i want.”

he exhales sharply through his nose, running a hand through his dark hair. “i don't know what the fuck you're talking about so just fucking say it.”

you scoff, your brows furrowing deeper. “i did say it. you’re the one pretending like it didn’t happen, like i didn’t tell you—”

“because you don’t mean it,” he cuts you off, his voice low but steady.

you take a step back, stunned for a moment. “what?”

he leans forward now, resting his palms on his knees, his gaze boring into yours. “you’re just doing this to fuck with me, to get a reaction. and congrats, you fucking got one. are you happy now?”

your throat tightens, but you refuse to let him see how much his words sting. “you think i didn’t mean it?”

he doesn’t answer immediately, just stares at you, like he’s trying to read your mind.

“if i didn’t mean it,” you say, your voice softer now, “then why would i keep doing this? why the fuck would i care?”

“because you like attention, don't you?” he shoots back, his words sharper than you expected. “taehyung, me, whoever gives it to you.”

your jaw drops, anger and disbelief flooding you. “you’re such a fuckin—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off again, standing up now, towering over you. “don’t act like i’m the bad guy here. you’re the one who started this.”

you stare up at him, your chest rising and falling as frustration bubbles over. but you recover quickly, masking the storm inside you with a smirk. tilting your head slightly, you ask, “started what exactly?” your tone is light, almost mocking, daring him to say it out loud.

jungkook’s jaw tightens, his gaze locked on yours. he doesn’t back down, but he doesn’t answer immediately either, like he’s weighing his next move. you can see it— the slight flare of his nostrils, the clench of his fists at his sides.

“don’t play with me, ___.” he finally says, his voice low and rough.

your smirk widens, pushing him further. “am i really? becuz all i see is you getting worked up over nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffs, stepping closer, closing the already minimal distance between you. “you’ve been pushing me, fucking testing me? what the fuck is that about?”

you hold your ground, refusing to back away. “and? what are you gonna do about it, jungkook? keep avoiding it like you always do?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “avoiding it? you’re fucking crazy. you think this is easy for me?”

“what’s not easy?” you press more, losing patience, your voice softening slightly. “tell me, jeon jungkook. what’s so hard for you?”

his eyes darken, his emotions clear on his face. “stop, ___.” he pauses. “stop pushing me before i—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head like he’s trying to regain control.

you feel your breath catch at his words, your heart pounding, but you don’t let it show. instead, you tilt your chin up, whispering, “no.. you need to stop fighting it, jungkook.” you lean in closer, your eyes never leaving his. “it's just you and me right now.”

for a moment, neither of you moves. the tension between you is palpable, electric, like something is about to snap. and this time, you’re not sure if you want to continue pushing him.

“shut the fuck up,” jungkook leans down, his breathe getting heavier

you smirk a little, whispering back, “fucking make me.”

and then suddenly he’s holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm, his lips sear against yours kissing you with passion that you’ve always wanted to feel.

jungkook's hand tightens around your jaw as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a desperate hunger. you moan into his mouth as he pulls you against his body, his other hand wrapping around your waist.

breaking away for a ragged gasp, jungkook lifts you effortlessly into his arms, kissing you again. you wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. he puts you down gently on the couch where he'd been sitting moments before. though there's nothing gentle about the way his hands roam over your curves, hiking your shirt up a little.

jungkook pulls back just enough to glare down at you, his breaths ragged, his jaw clenched. his dark eyes bore into yours.

"i hate you," he grits out. his hand grips your thigh, sliding up to press firmly against your skin, sending shivers through your body.

your lips curl into a smirk, your breath hitching as his grip tightens. “do you?” you whisper, your voice teasing, daring him to keep going.

his fingers dig into your thigh, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “yeah, cuz you're so fucking annoying. i hate you so fucking much,” he mutters, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, kissing and biting on your sensitive skin.

a soft moan escapes you, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you arch into him. “yeah?” you breathe out, your smirk deepening. “i like knowing i get to you.”

his eyes snap to yours, his jaw tightening as he pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, revealing him your bare pussy. “so fucking bratty,” he mutters.

your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling as his fingers trace over the tattoo etched into your thigh, the one he gave you, the one that still turns him on whenever he thinks about how you teased him during the session.

you and your fucking mouth. he thinks.

his lips hover over your skin, his gaze fixed on the inked design before he lowers his head. his soft lips press against your hip, right where the tattoo starts.

his voice is quieter now, softer as he looks up at you. “does it still hurt?”

“so much,” you whisper, your voice shaky, but it’s clear your meaning has nothing to do with pain.

a smirk tugs at his lips, his eyes dark with intent as he begins kissing along the tattoo, lower and lower. each press of his lips sends a shiver through your body.

his hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as his mouth continues its path, exploring every inch of your skin, lingering on the spots that make you squirm, but not touching the place you desparately need him to.

“you’re so quiet now, ___,” he murmurs against your thigh, his lips brushing over your skin. “what happened to that smart mouth of yours?”

you bite your lip, trying to hold back a sound. “fuck off,” you breathe out, your words make his smirk grow wider.

his hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his head moves fully between them. his eyes lock onto your bare pussy, and he curses under his breath.

he leans in, his tongue sliding in a long, slow stride over your folds, making your eyes flutter shut. a soft, needy moan escapes your lips, your body already trembling like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever.

because, well, you have.

his tongue moves through your folds with such a delicious rhythm, licking every inch of you. your breathing grows heavier with each stroke, his mouth exploring you like he’s memorizing every reaction.

when his tongue finds your clit, he flicks it expertly, a few quick strokes before sucking on it. the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, your mind spiraling into a haze.

“fuck,” you whisper, barely able to form words as his mouth works wonders on you.

he doesn’t stop. his tongue continues to explore you, his lips wrapping around your clit again while his hand comes up to join the mix. two fingers slide over your slick folds before finding your clit, rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his tongue. when his mouth moves lower, licking at your entrance, your thighs quiver, and a sharp moan slips past your lips.

“this what you wanted?” he rasps, his voice rough as he glances up at you, his fingers still circling your clit. your back arches instinctively, your body responding to his touch, and you squirm under him, unable to keep still.

when you don’t answer fast enough, his hand lifts slightly before coming down with a sharp slap to your pussy. the sting makes you whimper, your eyes shooting open as he smirks.

“what’s wrong?” he taunts, his fingers rubbing over your folds soothingly. “for someone who bitches about everything, you're so fucking quiet now.”

he presses two fingers against your entrance, teasing you, his movements deliberate as your body tenses.

“wanna cum on my fingers?” he asks, his tone low, his thumb still rubbing lazy circles on your clit.

“y-yes,” you stammer, your voice shaky but desperate. “fuck yes, wanna cum on your fingers,” you moan, your body arching when you feel his fingers slide in.

“shit, look at you,” he groans, his voice rough as his fingers curl inside you, hitting the perfect spot. “dripping so good for me,”

your moan spills out involuntarily, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. your hand reaches out instinctively, gripping his that’s still holding your thigh, your touch shaky but needy.

his fingers pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit in perfect rhythm. the wet sounds of your pussy, with your breathless moans, echo in the room mixed with the movie still playing in the background; filling his head with even more desire. his eyes flicker down to the visible bulge in his sweatpants, hard and straining against the fabric as he takes in the sight of you.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself, his movements never faltering. watching you like this; squirming, moaning, completely falling apart— does something to him he can’t ignore. he never thought it would actually come to this.

but he can’t deny it. he’s thought about it. more times than he’d ever admit. even when he tried to push those thoughts away, when he tried to convince himself it was wrong to see you like this, he could never stop. every time you provoked him, every time you pushed his buttons, it only made him think about it more.

and now? now he’s fucking gone. he loves this. he loves having you squirm beneath him.

“f-fuck, j-jungkook, so good!” you cry out, your voice trembling as your back arches off the couch. your brows pinch together, your lips parted, your entire body trembling under his touch. your eyes flutter shut, so close to rolling back, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation he’s giving you.

“yeah?” he breathes, his tone low and wrecked. “you look so fucking pretty like this, so fucking beautiful..” his pace quickens, his fingers pumping deeper, harder, pushing you closer and closer.

“that’s it, just like that,” he coaxes, as his fingers continue working inside you. his thumb presses firmly against your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure, driving you even closer to your release.

your breathing turns ragged, your body trembling beneath his touch as the heat coils tighter in your core. “j-jungkook, i’m gonna—”

“do it,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on your face, watching every expression, every twitch. “fucking cum for me,”

your body tenses, back arching. your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you, waves of pleasure crashing through every nerve. you grip his wrist tightly, probably marking him, your thighs trembling as you ride out the high.

he slows his movements, letting you catch your breath, but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he watches you, his eyes dark and full of something you can’t quite place. he gently slips his fingers out, glistening with your release, and you watch, dazed, with your half-open eyes, as he brings them to his lips.

“fuck,” he mutters, licking his fingers clean, his tongue swirling around them as if savoring every taste of you. his gaze meets yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you taste fucking divine.”

“jungkook,” you whisper, your voice shaky but soft, not entirely sure what to say.

but.. before you can say anything, your phone starts ringing. both of your heads snap to the table where it’s vibrating.

the contact name reads “hater,” which you both know means jimin.

your eyes flick to jungkook. his expression shifts, and his hands, which were so close to touching you again, retreat. he steps back, leaving you frowning and still catching your breath.

“shit…” he mutters, standing up quickly, like he's guilty. you push yourself up too, sitting on the couch, not caring about the mess or the fact that you're still half-naked.

“are you fucking serious right now?” you snap, your voice dripping with frustration.

he sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “just fucking pick it up.”

you scoff but grab your phone anyway, answering it and immediately putting it on speaker.

“what the fuck do you want?” you hiss.

“woah, who hurt you dumbass?” jimin’s voice is light, teasing.

you roll your eyes as jungkook silently fixes his clothes, avoiding your gaze.

“what is it?” you ask, your tone sharper than you intended.

“tell jungkook i’ll be late,” jimin says casually. “i texted him, but he wasn’t answering.”

jungkook looks around, realizing he left his phone on the kitchen counter earlier.

“is that all, brother?” you say, your voice dripping with fake sweetness, emphasizing the last word

“yeah, sister,” jimin replies mockingly, playing along. “go to sleep, it’s late, and don’t worry about jungkook.”

“care about your stupid model friends instead,” you mutter and hang up before he can say more.

jungkook exhales heavily, picking up your shorts from the floor. he places them gently on your lap, covering you, though he avoids looking at you entirely.

“what now? you’re just going to do nothing?” you demand, your voice rising with frustration.

“shut up, ___,” he says, his tone low. “we went too far. we need to stop. it’s better that we—”

“don’t tell me to shut it!” you snap, your voice breaking slightly. “you liked it just as much as i did! and—” you point at his pants, your eyes narrowing. “you’re still fucking hard, so don’t act like it didn’t mean anything.”

he groans, pressing his palm to his face. “just fucking get dressed. go to sleep.” he sighs. “we’re done here. don’t ever bring this up again.”

his words feel like a slap to the face.

“you’re just gonna walk away?” you askbut he doesn’t respond.

jungkook grabs his phone from the kitchen, heading for the front door.

“where are you even going?” you demand, anger and hurt swirling in your chest.

“out. need to cool off,” he says without looking back and walks out, the door shutting behind him.

you sit there, staring at the door.

this hurts. so. fucking. much.

what the fuck is his problem?

you want to scream, to fight, to get some kind of answer out of him, but he’s gone.

this was not okay. you can't forgive him. too fucking far.

you fucking hate jungkook.

note: wait ngl lmao i think i had a little too much fun w this ,, even though i was crying & trying to make the smut part even better 🥴

no series taglist !!

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 7

AN: The long awaited part 7. Before anyone fears, no this isn't the end of the series don't you worry. I don't have many ideas for the next few parts, but I'm sure I'll think of something or one of you can help!

Also how do we feel about giving Reader a tail? /gen I have a few ideas I've been toying with with reader having a tail, but I don't want to cross the line between too self indulgent and reflecting of my character, rather than trying to be as inclusive as possible.

-> Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2

Warnings: Depictions of past trauma/ injury, past depictions of being turned into a Twisted/ seeing a loved one as a twisted/ recovering from being a Twisted, mentions of vomit, past depictions of losing a lost one, talk of scars (In a positive light, but just in case!)

☁ The first few nights were hard. So, so incredibly hard. Not by any fault of your own, oh absolutely not, but that didn't make the nights any less taxing or offer them anymore rest.

☁ There were a few times you offered tearfully to sleep in your old room so they could hopefully get some rest, each one shot down with a stern No'. The mere thought of having you out of their line of sight was more than their nerves could take, especially somewhere where they couldn't reach immediately? Hard Pass.

☁ The first night was by far the worst. Cosmo can't say he really remembers recovering from being a twisted, but there was one thing that stuck out for him during the entire process. And that was you. You were there the entire time, gently pressing cool cloths to his forehead, helping him sip water, even keeping saltine crackers on hand in case his temporarily fickle stomach decided that food was somewhat acceptable.

☁ You were the same with Astro and Sprout as well, ensuring the recovery, as awful as it was, was still as seamless as you could make it. If there was one thing he did remember about healing from being a twisted, is that he would never wish it upon another being. Much less you.

☁ The first night you're returned, you're rushed to med-bay as a flurry of commotion happens. Those left behind are eager to see if you've been returned, especially poor Toodles who took your turning hard. She's holding Blu when they rush past, tears in her large eyes, but Rodger is quick to turn her away.

☁ Sprout is already barking orders with Ginger meeting them halfway, first aid kit in hand. They had given you minimal attention in the ride up, but they didn't have the time, space or resources necessary to give you proper medical attention.

☁ It's a flurry of action that follows right after. Astro stays up by your head, wiping the ichor that stained your mouth and clumped your fur. His cheeks are shiny as he does it, shaking his head every now and then before continuing his actions.

☁ Cosmo barely remembers all he did that night, there was so much that needed done. That wound you had received from-...From when you turned into a twisted had never closed, the excess ichor from being a twisted keeping you alive. It was an awful, horrid thought, but not one they could ignore as Cosmo hurriedly worked alongside his cousin to close it. Sprout busied himself with working on the claw marks across your face you had made in your confused state. Every bit he seemed to do made his grimace deepen. He wasn't sure what the other was seeing, but currently wasn't certain he wanted to know during this moment.

☁ Your teeth still remained sharp as you groaned in pain throughout the process, hands reaching back up to swat at the insistent burden yanking on your wounds, only for them to be caught by Shelly, who had followed to offer her help.

☁ She had felt awful about the entire situation, regardless if you would've done it either way. Vee as well, though she stayed further back to avoid getting in the way. Shelly's tougher skin made her more resistant to your claws and slashes, so she was a welcome helper, even if it made the working space a bit more cramped.

☁ Seeing you hurt like that was an awful feeling. Cosmo remembers feeling the bile burn at the back of his throat that night, increasing in every little noise or whimper of pain you made. Even when the worst was handled, he had to step back for a moment, hiding in Astro's chest as Sprout continued wiping away what was left. The same grimace was on his features, one much more intense than what was usually there when he was in doctor mode.

☁ He didn't speak more on it until far after Shelly had taken her leave with a tearful well wishes. Even then, the berry had only dragged a chair closer, hiding his face in his hands. Neither Astro nor himself knew where to go from there, and that just made them feel all the more worse as you seemed to fall into a fitful unconsciousness.

☁ Cosmo wasn't sure if it counted as sleep, honestly, not with how you still shook.

☁ "They have so many scars." Sprout finally spoke up, voice wavering before it cracked as he smoothed back his leaves, letting them fall back into place. "They hide them under their fur. How did-..." Sprout swallowed tightly at this before looking up at them with teary eyes. "How did we miss that?"

☁ Neither waited for a moment further before rounding around the medical bed to wrap their arms around the berry. He was tricky when it came to emotions, especially since this entire thing began, flickering between anger and denial like a coin, to see him break down like that was rare.

☁ "It's easy to miss." Cosmo nearly choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes as he flickered between watching your chest rise and fall to the floor. There was a crack in one of the tiles. You'd want that fixed, so no one tripped. He'd make not of it later. "Their fur covers it-"

☁ "Is that really an excuse?" Sprout cuts back in, his own eyes watching you in the same clinical way Cosmo found himself doing it. "For the others maybe. But us?"

☁ Cosmo couldn't find any rebuttal, swallowing tightly. He knows he himself has spent countless hours with his fingers running along your fur, playing with the stands and drawing shapes against the grain of it. He just never really focused on the skin beneath because he truthfully didn't think too. Looking back, maybe that was on him. He should've done better, done something more-

☁ "I don't think anyone's at fault." Astro's comment cut through the sudden silence. He had been dreadfully silent since getting back from the run so to hear him sound so exhausted was...jarring. He always had a sleepy, tired lilt to his voice, but to hear it like that made Cosmo's tail curl tighter against his back.

☁ Silence fell again before Astro was continuing. "I think, to a degree, it would be...more questionable if they didn't have any. They've been doing this far longer than you, me or even Cosmo's been in the picture. We can't stop them, but we can support them however possible as we have been." Astro swallows for a moment, using a star shard to bring a box of tissues closer. He takes one, wiping under his eye before setting it to the side. "They will always be like this. They'll be our self-sacrificing idiot who doesn't know when to stop, but that's why we fell in love with them. We can't change them and I hope none of us would try. Their scars are part of who they are. We-...I love every part of them, even the parts they may not love as much. Those parts we just have to love a little extra."

☁ The words stand, nearly tangible in the air for a long while. He's right. There are very few times when Astro isn't, but it's a jarring notion to understand what you truly went through. Even Cosmo himself hadn't known how long you and Poppy and Boxten had been doing it since he wasn't even the first returned. No, by the time he had been recovered, Finn, Shrimpo and Rodger had been well acquainted parts of the group and you had become comfortable in your role as a distractor.

☁ He wonders just how much of the burden you've carried silently with you. He's terrified of the answer you'd give if he asked.

☁ "I do...I do love them." Sprout choked, as if that was ever being brought into question. "I just- What if they hurt? What if every time we ask them to distract they're just a constant reminder of every past failure to them? They've done so much for all of us. Who are we to ask anything more?"

☁ "Like Astro said, it's who they are. I think if they truly didn't want to distract, they wouldn't. And I hope they would feel safe enough to come to us if the scars were causing them pain." The first tear falls down Cosmo's cheek, which is quickly wiped with a star shard covered in a tissue. "I mean, for heaven's sake, they turned into a twisted to save Vee on a run to save Shelly. If that's not the most selfless thing I've seen, I don't know what is."

☁ "Truthfully, I think I rather would've dealt with Vee's Twisted then theirs." Astro deadpans only to immediately flush a navy blue as Sprout cackles, Cosmo hiding his own laughs behind a hand. Astro practically swallows his tongue as he's quick to try and amend it with, "Not that I would wish that on any of us!"

☁ Sprout shakes his head as he finally leans back, his own cheeks shiny- which the star shard tries to wipe at only to get swatted at, making Astro pout. Both of Sprout's arms reach around to hook around both Cosmo and Astro as he takes a final deep breath. "We'll talk with them. Maybe now they'll see reason. Because yeah. I'm not dealing with that again."

☁ "They were so scary!" Cosmo whines, leaning on Sprout's shoulder. "But also-...Hear me out-"

☁ "Stoooop." Sprout groans, tipping his head back as Astro nods solemnly. "I'm hearing."

☁ Cosmo laughs at this before you're suddenly jumping up, cheeks puffed and they already know what that entails. Cosmo grabs the nearest trash can while Astro gently pulls back anything that could get in the way while Sprout makes for the nearest medication cabinet.

☁ Cosmo holds the trash can for you as you purge the excess ichor in your body, watching your heaves with a heartbroken glance while Astro rubs your back, even if he himself looks nauseous at the sight and sounds. He's quick to switch with Sprout when he returns, measuring out the stomach medication the berry had grabbed. It had aided the rest of them when it came to rejecting the ichor and they hoped it would with you too.

☁ In the very least, as awful as it was, it was a good sight to see as it meant you were recovering in the very least. Even if your heaves sounded painful and tears tracked down your cheeks. It would a pattern that would continue throughout the night unfortunately, which they would need to stay up to assist you with, but it was a chore they were more than happy to do. You had been the one to sit with each of them throughout the night, making sure they had all the comfort you could offer at the time.

☁ So even as the minutes ticked like hours, they knew it was all worth it. Every trip to empty the trash cash, every startled awakening at the sound of your gags, every wince as you pleaded for mercy. Anything to get you back.

☁ The following days are better. The next morning, right before it could be qualified as noon, you were cognizant enough to recognize where you were, eyes unfocused as you swayed, trying to sit up only for that to be one of the worst ideas you've ever had.

☁ The boyfriend on duty is quick to come to your side, with a hand on your back as soft whispers buzzed in your ear. You curled in on yourself, eyes scrunching shut before a deep breath had you finally stabilizing enough you could blink your eyes. Sprout was right there, offering you a gentle smile as he tried to figure out what exactly you were seeing.

☁ You practically threw yourself at him, pulling him close as tears burned your eyes. You cried into his scarf as his hands slowly curled back around you, squeezing you tightly to his chest as his own shoulders shook. "Oh. bud, I've missed you."

☁ "I'm sorry." You blab. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You cry, squeezing him tighter when it almost seems like he's going to pull away. You don't remember much about your time as a twisted except for spotting Sprout and smelling the ichor of a non-twisted toon being spilt. You prayed it wasn't you to cause that wound, that there was no wound at all, but subtly looking at his arm quickly dashes that hope.

☁ "No, no, bud you did nothing wrong." This time you allow him to pull away, only for his hands to cup your cheeks. "You're just as perfect as you always are." His green eyes shine with unshed tears, which quickly rectify that by trailing down his freckled cheeks. You sob at the sight, your own hands- with nails longer than you normally keep them- cupping his cheeks.

☁ Sprout crashed his lips against yours in a show of desperation, tears making the kiss taste salty as your shoulders fall in relief. IF he was okay, the others had to be okay, right? They had to be? You didn't hurt them too, did you? You prayed not.

☁ Pulling away, you angled his chin every which way, scanning his face as he gave you a few watery chuckles. "You're okay? All leaves, limbs and seeds?"

☁ Sprout caught your hands, pulling them down so he could look at you, nothing but sweet, adoring love in his eyes. "Leaves, limbs and seeds all attached." He coos, laying his forehead on yours as his shoulders heave with a long heavy sigh. "Oh, bud. You're okay."

☁ "You're not." You frown, feeling the tears threaten to burst out all over again. "I'm-"

☁ "It wasn't you." Sprout interrupts, making you blink. "No, a twisted flutter got me, but you? Even a twisted, you've proven you'll still protect us." His smile is sad, but relieved as you feel your stomach finally settle.

☁ You get a few moments more before the door is being slammed open, but not by another toon. No, it must've been ajar, because who else is waiting there but Blu herself, looking as grumpy as the day she accidentally fell into the snow in Bobette's shop, mewing in long, interrupted yowls as she trotted to the medical bed, jumping up and immediately crawling all over you.

☁ Sprout tried to grab her, but you waved him off, scooping up the baby and letting her place her paw on your cheek. You cooed at her, nuzzling your nose against her cold, wet one. She mewled once more before it delved into a purr, making you snicker. "I know, tell me all about how unfair your dads are."

☁ "Oi!" Sprout immediately called, looking only mildly offended before footsteps had you both looking over at the doorway once more. Cosmo was there, already panting as he leaned his head against the doorway. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, she was sleeping and then suddenly just took off and-" He looked up at that point, only for his mouth to gape open. He stilled for a second as Astro popped his head in, looking at the pastry. "Did you find-"

☁ He too was left slack-jawed before Cosmo was moving and he was following, both wrapping you in tight hugs and a flurry of kisses. It was comforting and perfect, and enough to make you forget about how awful your stomach felt.

☁ They were quick to fill you in on everything that had happened in your absence and, honestly? Hearing Astro talk about having his best friend back made your heart thrum and how happy he seemed, moreso now that he had everyone in his little family back at long last.

☁ While your side still hurt and your muscles still sung from the strain put on them. being wrapped between them felt safe. Safer than you've felt since the moment of pure terror that wracked your entire nervous system the second you knew only one of you would make it to the elevator.

☁ Still, you knew there was something on the horizon. A discussion that needed to be had and it made whatever was left in your gut churn and rot further than it already had.

☁ It didn't come until later that night when you were finally back in your room, eating something soft and easy to digest (My personal fav is oatmeal but I know now everyone can eat that so y'all get to choose <3), chatting with Cosmo when a knock at the door made you look up.

☁ Astro had popped his head in, scanning for your form before immediately relaxing when he spotted you. "Are you okay with a few visitors? Absolutely feel free to say no."

☁ You honestly hadn't expected anyone to visit you, really. Goob and Scraps had both had their own tearful reunions with you, Goob especially, and Poppy and Boxten had visited as well. You weren't overly close with anyone else, but while confused, you nodded.

☁ Astro scanned you for a second, as if to see if you were lying, but when he found nothing he stepped more fully inside. Sprout followed, immediately wounding to your side and pressing a peck to your lips. You smiled at him before looking back over, eyes widening at the two toons standing there.

☁ Shelly looked nervous, but waved even as her smile wavered, her tail giving a small, short little wag. Vee looked miserable if you were honest. You had never seen the main so...upset, making you frown. Was she upset with you? You know you probably shouldn't have pushed her, but you had no other option at the time!

☁ Astro took his own spot beside, across from where Sprout had moved to sit beside Cosmo.

☁ "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Shelly begins, tapping her fingers together before meeting your eye. "I wanted to thank you personally. And apologize. It was me you were retrieving and-"

☁ "And it wouldn't have happened if I had just picked up the pace." Vee cuts in. She makes it a point not to look at you, making you frown, fingers curling around your blanket. Vee let out a sigh, antennae giving a little spark as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm...So, so so-"

☁ "You have nothing to apologize for." You hold up a hand, scrunching your features. "I made my choice. You had nothing to do with what i decided. I promise. i never would've done something if it wasn't something I was sure about doing. There was never a moment I was upset with you, either of you." You're quick to reassure, sending them both a smile. Shelly returns it quickly, but Vee only gives you a glance and you frown.

☁ That was Sprout's best friend. You knew you didn't have to get along with everyone, but you wanted to get along with these two especially.

☁ Shelly seemed relieved at least, which made Astro relax at least a bit, but that wasn't enough for you. "I promise, Vee. If anything I owe you all an apology." You wilted a bit, even if Vee finally looked at you. "My twisted is...not the best, even I could admit that and I should've planned with the twisteds better rather than risk putting you guys in that situation. So for that, I apologize." You continue, continuing even if Vee looks like she's going to cut in. "It's happened, and it's fixed already. We can just blame whoever started the Ichor operation rather than try to keep playing this 'who can blame themself the most' game."

☁ Vee gapes and you smile at her softly, opening your arms. "Hug it out with me? Therefore all is forgiven and we can't blame ourselves anymore." The television looks at you, then at Shelly, then Sprout before her shoulders fall and she's slumping forward. You wrap your arms around her, feeling the chill of her metal plates. Looking over, you make eye contact with Shelly, who smiles sadly at the action. You open one of your arms and the fossil is immediately burrowing into the hug as well with her tail whapping about.

☁ When you separate, they take their leave not soon after, seemingly much lighter than when they came in. But then you're left with the other three. Astro's who's already sitting beside you, but the other two crawl onto the bed so you're all sitting in a circle of types.

☁ Your eyes dart from one to the next to the next before falling to where your knuckles are white around the blanket, having returned to clutching the fabric. You have to actively uncurl your fingers.

☁ You know there's probably tons to discuss, but you don't even know where to start.

☁ So Sprout does. He's never one to beat around the bush, especially looking back to before you all were together, and it's something you greatly admire about the berry.

☁ "We saw the scars." Is all he says, his own eyes remaining downcast as he plays with his scarf. You swallow, debating your options before breathing out, letting down the walls you normally kept up around everyone else.

☁ "Most of them are front the beginning." You admit. "I wasn't a good distractor then. I wasn't even really okay. I did it when we absolutely needed one. We had none of the trinkets we do now and didn't even think about them at the time. So I was an extractor and Cosmo knows that me extracting is like teaching a fish to fly." You spill immediately, thinking back to the lacerations that once marred your skin. "I'm sorry if they bothered you. I tried to keep them as covered up as possible. in case they...upset you all"

☁ "It's not the fact that their there, starlight. Well, I mean, that's kind of part of it, but...Why didn't you tell us?" Astro prods, laying a hand on you knee as another gentle rubs your shoulder. You bristle at the question, rolling your shoulders for a second before responding.

☁ "They aren't number one on my list of discussion topics. I'd rather forget about them personally." Simple as that.

☁ There's silence for a second before Cosmo is raising his hand, pointing to a white line that circles around his forearm. "This is from my time as a twisted. You'd remember best, but my hand was all sorts of messed up, right?"

☁ You nod at this and he points to his eye, with a matching line circling around it, so faint if he wasn't pulling attention to it, most wouldn't notice. "Half my face too, right?"

☁ You nod once more and he mimics the action. "Are you ashamed of my scars?"

☁ "No!" You're quick to bark, immediately ready to quell any worries he has, but Cosmo isn't done, pointing to Sprout- who blinks at the finger like it personally offended him. "What about Sprout? He has his own scars. You ashamed of those?"

☁ "No, Cosmo that's not-"

☁ "Then what about Astro? He's got his fair share too." The pastry points to one of the hands on your knees, which indeed had it's own smattering of scars from his time as a twisted.

☁ "No." You stare him down, gaze hard as he meets your own just as challenging. "Then why does that change for you?" You don't have an immediate answer, and Cosmo pounces on that. "What makes your scars different from ours? Why would we ever be ashamed of your scars, of your journey, when you would never dream of even thinking about that of ours?"

☁ You gape at him, trying to find some sort of defense, but you can't. He seems satisfied at that, but it's not for long as you're speaking once more.

☁ "Mine were self-inflicted." You avoid looking at them, even as your heart practically chokes you. "You never signed up to be a twisted. I willingly trained and worked to become a distractor. These come with the territory."

☁ There's silence for a second before Sprout is speaking once more. "Do they hurt?"

☁ You frown at the question, but shake your head. "No. They don't."

☁ Sprout exhales in relief at this before leaning back on his palms. "This isn't meant to make you feel any type of way about them, bud. They're yours and we understand better than most that scars can bring...complicated feelings. There's just...so many. We just want you to care a little more about yourself."

☁ "Seeing you in danger all the time is hard on his heart." Astro gently jokes, even if he gets a light kick in return for the jab. The celestial takes a breath before leaning on your shoulder, one of his hands reaching to hold your own. "We just want you safe, starlight, above all else. The bed's too big for three of us."

☁ You take a breath that quivered in your lungs before nodding slowly. You had expressed to Astro before how terrified you were of your own twisted and never wished to expose it to them, but did so anyway.

☁ You could only imagine the fear they were feeling the entire time, especially on the retrieval.

☁ "I'm sorry. Not for doing what I did, I don't regret and never will." You began, finally looking back up at them. "But I agree. I've been a bit careless. It's a distractor's job to keep the twisteds occupied, but not by being a dumbass. I don't want to give up distracting though." By the end you're practically pleading.

☁ "And we would never ask you too." Sprout gives you a soft smile. "Even if you stress me the fuck out, you enjoy it. Just...maybe keep the distance between you and the twisteds a bit bigger. And keep an escape route open whenever possible. And a bandage on hand. And a can of pop. And-"

☁ You laugh, wiping your tears as you shake your head. "I get it. I'm sorry I scared you all."

☁ "Just remind us to never piss you off." Cosmo shakes his head. "You're scary when angry. Although, watching you protect Sprout like that-"

☁ "We are not having this conversation again!" Sprout immediately shuts down, hitting the pastry in the face with a pillow, quickly getting a swift hit in retaliation. The two tussle for a second, making you give a wet laugh as Astro nuzzles into you. Your finger taps on the back of his hand, silently asking for an explanation.

☁ He hums in acknowledgement at the unasked question, moving to kiss your shoulder. "You're hot in all forms. Cosmo especially likes your protective side."

☁ This makes you bark out a laugh, calling the attention of the other two back to you.

☁ "What are you laughing at?" Sprout grinned, straddling Cosmo who was squirming under the hand on his forehead keeping him pinned down.

☁ "You're all such dorks." You snicker, grinning before holding your hands out to them. "Hugs?"

☁ You're only able to let out a yelp at Sprout turns instead pull you into his chest, the other two also wrapped in the absolute bear hug. It makes your heart thrum happily, especially when Blu manages to pop her head up in a crevice and mew her greetings happily.

☁ So even while the first few nights were hard, as you lay there, wrapped in the embrace of your boys and feeling their laughter once more, you know that tonight won't be nearly as so.

☁ And if absolutely nothing else, that was what made it all worth it.

AN: Guys, remember how I made that joke (It wasn't a joke) about hating that Rodger and taking it out on their Bobette? GUESS WHO'S NOW A MARKETABLE PLUSH >:) Huge huge huge shoutout to @belifbel

RAHH LOOK AT THEM

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 10

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 4806 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'Y/N.'

Y/N didn't look back, too busy focusing on what was in front of her as she made her way from the empty courtyard towards the palace. Her armour clinked; her footsteps bounced from pillar to pillar; the screams of her fallen sisters still rung in her ears.

'Y/N, wait a second.'

As she made her way inside, Y/N found the halls filled with the wounded, bleeding, dismembered, many crying and many covering their fallen in respectful white cloths. Many turned to her as she walked by them, red-rimmed eyes pleading at her.

'Princess,' they murmured as she walked past them by way of acknowledgement, but also with misplaced hope. All Y/N could do was keep walking but she could never escape their sorrowful eyes, their bloodied hands they held out to her.

This is all my fault. This is all my fault.

'Y/N, hold up.'

So she turned her head forward and increased her pace, avoiding anymore contact from the helpless and damned because what could she offer them but more empty promises and death?

The cold reality that the Amazons might not win against Echidna settled cold and deep inside her, and that spurred her on towards the Strategy Room.

'Y/N!'

Y/N was finally forced to a halt when a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her to a stop. Having finally stopped, Y/N noticed they were at the top of the same set of stairs that they'd argued with each other on that second night Dick was on Themyscira.

Begrudgingly, she turned around to face Dick, who looked up at her with concern and worry in his eyes. 'Hey, he said softly, taking a step upwards. 'You okay?'

'I don't have time for this,' Y/N said with a strained voice and tried pulling away. She wanted to be anywhere but there in that moment.

'Yes, you do,' Dick insisted, tightening his hold on her wrist and forcing her to face him again. 'I mean, come on, you just saw your friends die before you. You have to be feeling some sort of way.'

'Yes, thank you for reminding me of my failures, Dick,' Y/N spat back. 'Thank you for reminding me that I just killed all those women and young girls. That I lead them to their deaths and did nothing to save them!'

Dick finally let go of her wrist, but his disbelieving gaze held her in place. She never could escape those big blue eyes of his.

'It's not your fault, Y/N,' he said slowly, carefully. 'You're not the one that killed them.'

'Didn't I though?' The faces of the fallen flashed behind her eyes, and the begging of the young girl pounded in her ears. 'I incited this war with Echidna; I made those women believe we could win, that they would live. And when they begged for my help, begged for that power from last night...'

Y/N hiccuped as she felt tears well in her eyes. But she swallowed her sobs, held the tears back. She had no right to cry, to feel sad. She wasn't among those slaughtered and burned alive.

She wasn't dead.

Once her resolve had returned, Y/N said to Dick in a clinical voice, 'I refuse to lead anymore Amazons to their deaths. There will be no more bloodshed from our side.'

'But how are you going to ensure that, unless...' Realisation dawned on Dick's face and Y/N hated the guilt that arose in her from the sight. 'No, you can't just give up. You can't just surrender to Echidna.'

'What other choice do I have, Dick?' Y/N argued. 'There is no defeating a hydra of that size and ability without losing hundreds more. There is no defeating Echidna when she can just summon more of her monstrous children. I was a fool to think otherwise and it has cost us hundreds of innocent and good warriors.'

'You can choose to fight!' Dick said, his tone exasperated. 'You can choose to stand your ground and defend your home, your family.'

'At what cost, though? I have led too many to their deaths already. Calliope was injured greatly just now and I couldn't stand it if... if you...' Y/N didn't even want to finish the thought, so bit her tongue and looked away.

Dick remained silent for a moment and Y/N hated to think of what he might be thinking. 'If there is anything I have learnt from being here, it is that an Amazon would rather die than give up.'

It might've been the truth, but all Y/N felt was hurt and betrayal. 'Are you saying I'm not an Amazon?' she asked pointedly.

'Not a true one at the moment, no,' Dick answered.

'How dare you!' Y/N stepped closer to Dick until her finger was so close to his chin she could feel his haggard breath on it. 'I am the Princess of Themyscira. I am doing what is best for my people to ensure their survival!'

'At what cost, though?' Dick asked, seemingly unbothered by her finger. 'You would abandon your values and thousands of years worth of Amazon glory and sacrifice in one moment of fear?'

'What, like you abandoned the team when you were scared?'

Dick's face darkened at the low jab, but Y/N couldn't care. She was hurting, and she would make him hurt too.

Y/N dropped her finger and took one step closer. They were eye level now despite Dick being the step down from the landing. 'You don't get to judge me, Grayson,' Y/N hissed, never breaking eye contact with him. 'I am doing what is in my people's best interests the best way I know how to right now. And if you can't get around that, then I suggest you swim your way back to the mainland and pray you don't get eaten because you are of no further use to me.'

They glared at each other for a few moments longer, both of them breathing laboriously. Y/N knew whoever broke first would concede the fight and Y/N was sick of losing to Richard "Dick" Grayson.

Eventually, Dick looked away defeated and Y/N released a small sigh of relief.

'That settles it then,' she murmured, then turned to continue her journey to the Strategy Room.

'If you think you can strike a deal with Echidna that will spare the Amazons, then that is what makes you a fool,' Dick called out to her just before she turned the corner, his words tainted by anger and disappointment.

Y/N paused at the corner, frozen by the implication of his words. Coward. Pathetic. Weak.

If only he knew this was all for him too, she thought as she turned to face him one last time.

'Call me what you want,' she said weakly. 'I don't find any merit in the words of a hypocrite.'

It was a low blow, she knew, and it twisted something inside her when she saw Dick's face drop with shame and betrayal. There was no going back now, though. And so she took her injured heart and rounded the corner, leaving Dick standing wounded on the steps for a second time.

Once she rounded another corner, Y/N finally allowed her tears to fall. She allowed herself to feel her guilt, to feel her grief. Hopelessness and shame threatened to swap her at the thought of what she was going to do.

But what other choice did she have?

She couldn't answer that question, as she arrived at the doors to the Strategy Room. Y/N took in a deep breath and dried her eyes as best as possible before opening the doors.

Upon entering, she found the other generals except for Calliope standing around the round map table, her grandmother among them. Their discussions paused as they saw her, and by their expressions she didn't look to be in a good state. Y/N went to speak, went to bring up her warrior facade so that she may address them, but she couldn't do it.

The silence broke when Queen Hippolyta said softly, 'Everybody, please excuse me and my granddaughter. Now.'

The generals rushed to leave, all of them giving Y/N a gentle pat on her shoulders in slight comfort as they did. Y/N didn't respond. She didn't take her eyes off her grandmother, even when the doors closed and it was just them.

Slowly, Queen Hippolyta made her way around the table to stand in front of Y/N. Y/N only realised she was shaking when her grandmother gently took her hands into her own. Only then did she looked down to her grandmother.

'I sense a heavy burden has fallen upon you,' Queen Hippolyta said, her tone sad. 'What is it that troubles you, my dear?'

'I fear we will not survive this war, Grandmother,' Y/N admitted, her words strained as she resisted crying again. 'Echidna... I was too bold to think we could fight a god.'

Queen Hippolyta lead the two of them to a nearby lounge where they sat and held each other's hands. Y/N was grateful for the reprieve on her legs. She hadn't realised how tired she was until then.

'So, what do you plan on doing next?' Queen Hippolyta asked.

Y/N took a deep breath before explaining. 'I plan to confront Echidna... and make a deal with her to spare us.' Her grandmother's face darkened with offence and just as she opened her mouth to protest, Y/N interrupted. 'And before you argue, yes I know that this is the coward's choice. But I see no other way for the Amazons to survive unless we call for some kind of truce.'

'And what do you plan to offer her in order to achieve this?' Queen Hippolyta huffed with indignation.

'Myself,' Y/N answered. 'I will offer my life up so that she spares everyone else's. Gods love their deals.'

'Yes they do. But they also love breaking them,' Queen Hippolyta said, her tone frustrated. 'What's to stop Echidna from killing the rest of us when you are killed, huh? surely not their conscious, or should I say lack there-of. Who will be there to stop her from wiping us when she wipes you from this earth completely?'

Y/N went to argue but found she had nothing to argue with. She was naive to think a god as nefarious and vengeful as Echidna would ever uphold a deal made with a mere mortal.

'Then what am I to do, Grandmother?' she pleaded. 'I see no other way out of this mess that doesn't end up killing most if not all of us.'

'Then we will die,' Queen Hippolyta said, her grip tightening over Y/N's hands. 'But we will die as the warriors that Athena made us to be. Not the cowards Echidna thinks we are.'

Tears rolled down Y/N's face and sobs threatened to suffocate her as reality hit. 'Oh my dear,' the Queen cooed and pulled Y/N into her arms as the tears and sobs overtook her.

'I just... I just wanted to save them,' Y/N said as she clutched onto her grandmother. 'They don't deserve to die. All those girls out there... I couldn't help them.'

'You cannot save everyone, Y/N. You should know this better than anyone.' The Queen pulled away from the hug and Y/N sat up straight, looking at her grandmother wide-eyed. The Queen reached out to Y/N's cheek and wiped the remaining tears away.

'But all is not lost yet. You still have some warriors, you still have that boy of yours, and you still have your power.'

Y/N gave the Queen a confused expression but all her grandmother did was smile knowingly. 'News travels fast, you know. I heard what happened on the beach. It was quite impressive what you did.'

'But it's not my power,' Y/N countered. 'And when I asked for Athena's help again just now, nothing happened and I couldn't help those girls.'

'You think the power belongs to Athena?' the Queen asked, an amused laugh escaping her briefly.

'What? What's so funny?' Y/N asked, completely confused now.

'Athena is our creator, dear, but like most gods she does not help her children,' her grandmother explained. 'That power you used on the beach was not from Athena, but yourself.'

'From me?'

The Queen nodded. 'Your mother tapped into her power around your age, as did I, and my mother before me. We come from a long line of women who are able to tap into their inner strength, a magical gift from Athena's DNA. Not only do we posses her strategic mind and knack for combat, but we are blessed with her strength and power. It usually arises in a time of great need. But it only comes when the warrior is fully aware and accepting of they are. A True Warrior.'

The Queens squeezed Y/N's hand and smiled proudly at her. 'You have the makings of a True Warrior, Y/N. But you let fear and doubt influence your decisions too much. You fear loss and a broken heart, but I can tell you right now that none of those women who have died today or even millennia before that regret their decision to fight. Not a single person outside of this room, including that boy of yours, isn't willing to fight for this island and fight with you. All you have to do is lead them.'

'But what if I all I lead them to is their deaths?' Y/N asked quietly, almost too scared to hear the answer.

'All empires must come to an end, and maybe this time is ours,' her grandmother replied, 'but we will go out as warriors defending our homes... and the ones we love.'

She said that last part very pointedly and pang of guilt surged through Y/N. 'He's not my boy,' Y/N said, wiping a stray tear away. 'Not now anyways. If he ever was to begin with, that is.'

'Of course he is,' her grandmother interjected. 'When you love someone, you don't give up on them so easily.'

Y/N stared at her grandmother shocked. the implication of her words had Y/N's thoughts turning around so fast she could barely think a single thought except for one.

'Dick loves me?' she asked.

Her grandmother sighed in frustration. 'I love you, but you are more oblivious than your mother some days. Of course he loves you. He wouldn't have sailed the world's oceans trying to find an unfindable place otherwise. He wouldn't have helped train the other warriors if he didn't. And he wouldn't have stayed to fight this evil, knowing full well that he might not live long enough to see home again, if he didn't feel that way about you.'

Y/N could hardly breathe as her grandmother piled the evidence up. For so long she had believed he felt nothing romantic for her, but her grandmother was putting forward a convincing argument.

'But- But he's never indicated that he feels that way,' Y/N tried arguing, although she couldn't help the little flutter of excitement in her heart.

'Trust me, dear, he has. Whether he knows it or not yet, he loves you. And I think you better tell him how you feel in case this war goes further south. Don't you?'

Y/N sat with her thoughts for a moment. It was hard to comprehend that Dick Grayson, her best friend and the love of her life, actually reciprocated her feelings. But whether she accepted it or not, her grandmother was right about one thing.

'I will,' Y/N said, her mind clear, her resolve strong. 'After we come up with a plan to get rid of that hydra outside and then Echidna.'

'You've changed your mind?' the Queen asked.

Y/N nodded. 'You're right. If we die, we die as who we are, not as Echidna wants us to be. But we are not dead yet, and we are Amazon warriors, meaning we have the tactical minds of Athena herself.'

'Meaning?' her grandmother asked.

Y/N smirked. 'Meaning... I am sure we can come up with a plan or two to send Echidna and her monstrous children back to the hell in which they came from.,'

Her grandmother embraced Y/N once more and squeezed her tight. 'That's my girl.' When they pulled apart, she asked, 'Now, what did you have in mind?'

~~~

Dick sat in the infirmary beside a resting Calliope whose hands were bandaged in the hopes they would heal in time for the next wave of attacks from Echidna. All those who laid in the infirmary were hopeful to rejoin the fight. But as Dick sat there, looking around at the bleeding, the dismembered, the dead, he couldn't help but think they all were wishful thinkers.

'It's alarming, isn't it,' Calliope from her propped-up position on her cot. 'How quickly a battle can go south. How so many people can end up in a place like this after just one day of fighting.'

'I've been in battles before,' Dick replied, though his voice felt distant when he spoke, like it was coming from someone else. 'I've dealt with casualties before, just... never to this scale.'

Calliope huffed with weak amusement. 'Then you are a lucky warrior. But I guess we are lucky too. For a time, this was our people's normal. We train here most of our lives and never see battle. The younger ones crave it, but us older ones know to be grateful. War is not something I wish to experience my whole life.'

Dick hummed in agreement, reflecting on his own life. Since he was ten, he'd known violence. Befriended it in a weird way. Back when he was with the team - and even when he left - he always craved action. But Calliope was right; he should've been more grateful for the quiet times, the times of peace. That's what the Justice League and the Young Justice team were for anyways.

To fight against injustice, and keep the peace.

Breaking his thoughts, Calliope rested a bandaged hand upon his own that rested on her bedside. 'It does not do one well to dwell on the past,' she said, a knowing smile softening her usually stoic features. 'But I guess it is hard to look to the future when the past is constantly around you.'

She gave Dick a pointed look, and Dick sighed as he pulled his hands away from hers. 'My relationship with Y/N doesn't matter right now.'

His heart dropped as he recalled their earlier fight. How desperate and frightened she'd been but wouldn't let him in. It hurt him to think he couldn't help her, but everything she'd thrown at him, he knew she'd meant it. Perhaps she'd finally allowed herself to say the things she'd never allowed herself to say about him until then.

Deep down, under all her armour and strength, she hated him. She hated him for leaving, for abandoning the team.

'In fact,' he continued sadly, 'I don't think I have a relationship with Y/N anymore.'

It broke his heart to think of all the years they'd been together, all the triumphs they'd shared and all the failures they'd had to rise from together. To think that all of that was gone just because he got mad at her for trying to do the right thing by her people? He was a fool, a damn fool.

'That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, mortal,' Calliope injected so matter-of-factly that Dick looked up at her like a stunned mullet.

'Excuse me?' he questioned.

'Are all mortal men as deaf and blind as you are?' Calliope asked, rolling her eyes as gently wiggled herself into a straighter seating position. 'You and the Princess might have gotten off on the wrong foot when you first arrived here, but I can tell she cares for you deeper than you realise.'

Dick shook his head. 'I don't think so. We had a huge fight just before. I don't think she'd care if I walked out of this palace right now and got smoked by the hydra.'

'Sure she would!' Calliope argued. 'Look, people have fights all the time. That doesn't mean you love them any less for it. I've seen the way she looks at you when you're not looking, like you hung the very moon and stars that look over us right now. That kind of admiration, that kind of love doesn't just vanish because of one measly fight.'

Love. Dick was stuck on that one word as Calliope kept talking. He deconstructed it and put it back together over and over again and yet it remained ever-present.

'Well... of course we love each other,' Dick staggered for words, for reasoning to battle against his warring heart and mind. 'We've known each other since we were ten. We've been through everything together.'

Calliope just sighed and slumped back in her pillows. 'You exasperate me, mortal. You will die with regrets you do not even know of. And for that I feel sorry for you.'

Dick stared at her befuddled. 'What are you talking about?'

Before she could answer, the doors to the infirmary opened and Dick was surprised, delighted, and annoyed at the sight of Y/N walking through the giant doors. She greeted and hugged all she could as she made her way down the aisle towards Calliope's bed. Dick was half-hoping, that she would just keep walking past. But she did not, stopping right at the end of Calliope's bed.

'Friend, how are you?' Y/N asked gently, a genuinely regretful expression on her face.

'I am fine, Princess,' Calliope answered, raising her bandaged hands towards Y/N. 'It is just a flesh wound. Our healers will have me out pf here in time for the next attack, whenever that will be.'

'Good,' Y/N said, and Dick saw her put on a front - the front of a general. She stood slightly taller, held her head higher, spoke more confidently. 'We will need you ready for tomorrow's plans.'

Dick and Calliope both looked at each other confused. 'Plans?' Dick asked, standing from his seat.

Y/N nodded at him then addressed Calliope. 'Once you have healed, meet us in the Strategy Room. There we will discuss the plan.'

'Yes, Princess,' Calliope answered.

Y/N turned to Dick then and tilted her head back to the infirmary's entrance. 'Would you like to join me and the others in the Strategy Room? I would like to discuss the plan with you.'

Dick held Y/N's gaze for a moment, unsure of what she was doing. Only a few hours ago she told him he was useless, a waste of space. But now she was asking for his help?

He turned to Calliope, who nodded her head as if giving him permission to leave her bedside. 'I will join you both as soon as I am able,' she said, and with that Y/N lead Dick out of the infirmary.

They climbed the quiet staircase silently, walked many hallways without speaking. Dick wanted to speak, but what to say. He felt Y/N was holding back something too but seemed to be hesitating as well.

Finally fed up with the metaphorical chicken game, he let out an exasperated sigh and said, 'Okay, what changed your mind?'

Y/N didn't answer for a few more steps until they rounded another corner and she stopped and sighed. Finally she turned back to him, regret reflecting in her E/C eyes.

'You mean what made me realise I was being a coward and not a true Amazon warrior?'

Dick winced at the half quoting of his words she'd used. But as he opened his mouth to apologise, she raised her hand to silence him. 'It's okay, I understand. You were upset, and you had a right to be. I wasn't thinking like a warrior. I let my fear and my own pride lead me down a path of cowardice and shame. But, with some help, I realised... you were right.'

'I was?' Dick couldn't believe what he was hearing. For years, she'd always been the smarter one, always been the wiser one of the pair. This was new territory for him.

She nodded her head. 'Amazons don't hide or make deals to ensure their survival. They fight for it, they earn it, and if they die trying, and that is a worthy warrior's death.' She offered him a small smile. 'We win together, or we die together. Including you.'

Dick wasn't sure where Y/N was taking this, especially as she stepped closer to him. The firelight of the hallway torches made her hair ripple like fire and mad her eyes seem molten, alive. She was mesmerising.

'I'm sorry if I made you feel you had to prove yourself to me,' she said, her voice tight, apologetic. 'The truth is, I was just scared I would lose you again because of something I dragged you into. I wanted you gone... because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I'd gotten you killed.'

Dick's heart hiccuped with Y/N's honesty. In that moment, he saw the ten-year-old girl he'd met all those years ago. How vibrant and brave and strong she was. Then he thought of the time they picked their vigilante names out for one another, and all the times they fought battles and trained and laughed and cried and it him then the legacy she'd taken on. The pressure she felt to live up to her mother's success - and it had all started at the age of ten.

And it was all coming out now, along with the tears that trickled down her face. Immediately, Dick reached hand out to wipe her cheek, and that seemed to make her realise she was crying and then she was full on sobbing.

Dick didn't think twice as he pulled her into his comforting arms, as he pressed her as close to him as he could so she could feel his heartbeat, to let her know he was there. For her.

'I'm not gone, Y/N,' he murmured into her hair. Damn, he'd forgotten how tall he'd grown since he last saw her. 'I am right here. I am not laying out there among the dead, I am here.'

She trembled in his arms, and his heart shattered just a little bit more. 'Yes, but you could've been,' she said, her voice all muffled as she continued crying into his chest.

'But I'm not, Y/N.' Once she'd calmed down until she was just sniffling, he pulled away to look down at her, his hands gently resting on her shoulders. 'I promise, Echidna would have to burn me to ashes and then burn them again in order to take me away from you. Do you hear me?'

Y/N, with wide eyes rimmed red, just stared up at him with an expression he didn't quite recognise. It was hopeful and full of admiration. And there was something else there, something that had Dick's heart skipping a beat with the possibility that it might be what he thought it might be.

'You had a chance to leave Themyscira,' Y/N said softly, never breaking eye contact. 'You had a chance to live and forget all about this and me... Why did you stay?'

The question struck him so hard in the chest he lost his breath, thus lost his ability to think and function. It was the easiest and the hardest question to answer. It was easy because the answer was staring him right in the face, but he found it hard to say because what if he was wrong? What if he was reading this whole situation wrong? And what if he ruined the best thing that ever happened to him if he opened up his mouth?

'I stayed... I stayed because... because...' It was right there on the tip of his tongue, all he needed to do was be brave enough to say it.

The doors to the Strategy Room banged opened and Y/N and Dick jumped apart to see Queen Hippolyta standing at the entrance. 'I'm sorry, have I interrupted something?' she asked.

Y/N quickly wiped the remaining tears on her cheeks away as she stood up tall once more and replied, 'No, we were just about to come in and discuss the strategy for tomorrow.'

The Queen eyed the two of them, and Dick thought she looked slightly disappointed. But she gestured for them to come in, saying, 'Well, by all means, let us discuss.'

Y/N and Dick spared each other one more look before heading towards the Strategy Room. Dick's heart was practically beating out his chest and he wondered for a moment if Y/N could hear it.

Focus, Dick, he reminded himself as he entered the room with the generals and the Queen. We have a war to win first.

~~~

Tag List:

@valiantbouquetcloud | @epicy0n | @resistanythingbuttemptation | @lunaizhere | @nameunknownsthings | @tqrgvryen | @pariahsparadise | @edgycat | @b4tm4nn | @cynwing | @lilylovelyxo | @herondale-lightworm | @animeflower26 | @tiny-marie | @jedigrayson | @kookiemyfeelsposts | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @vxxviennne | @peachmartini | @jayn333-blog | @rory-cakes | @littleshadow17 | @lwtmonster91

[arkhamsbrat]

family is a rough subject for both you and jason. you know why it’s hard for him, he’s explained it in painful detail. you’ve done the same, as terrifying as it was to go over everything again. your little sister is the roughest part.

you raised her, since your mom didn’t care to. taught her how to walk, talk, read and write. in all ways except legally and biologically, she was your kid. maybe you never wanted kids because you already had one in her. that’s why leaving your home state was the hardest decision of your life. escaping your parents was good for you… but it left her alone.

when a random number called you, you just had the urge to answer it.

it was hard for you to stay calm when the voice on the other end was your sister, in tears because your parents kicked her out. you had a friend who was still in town go pick her up immediately, sent them money to get her on a phone plan so she could stay in contact with you. jason had been so busy you didn’t think to tell him you were buying a ticket for her to come to you. you didn’t care for any denial, in truth.

you spent the next two hours on a rampage across your home, breaking a few glasses in your wake. it got to a point where you just collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. jason came home to see you in tears, broken glass at your side. “hey-baby, what happened?” your wet eyes flickered up to him and you just cried harder. “they kicked her out..” he thought for a moment before realizing. “your sister?” his hand moved to cup your cheek, gently wiping your tears away. “need me to buy her a ticket?”

why you ever question jason todd and his love for you is something that can never be answered.

jason doesn’t care about his space being intruded. he knows all about her, you constantly talk about her achievements. when he first visited your apartment, he thought you may have been a teen mother. not that it wouldve been an issue.

he sets up the living room into a makeshift bedroom while youre out one day. when you come home, hes honestly scared he fucked up. you just kept blinking at him. “what’s-what did you do?” you ask quietly. “i just… thought she’d want it to feel like an actual room? and not like she was couch surfing?” he watches you scan over the room with wide eyes before you start crying again. jason rushes over and wraps his arms around you, barely catching your whispered “thank you”s.

he’d never seen you two in person- your parents had banned you from seeing her when you moved out. that’s why i think jason is shocked the first time he sees you with your little sister. no matter how old she gets you cradle her cheeks and kiss her head. years had passed, she was so much bigger.

jason watches silently, seeing you pull her into the kitchen while she cries. “they kicked me out…” he sees how your jaw sets, but you keep your voice soft as you cradle her. “y’gonna stay with me, okay?”

“but what about…” she drones off, eyes moving towards the living room. “jayce.” you call out, waiting for him to hum in acknowledgment. “can she stay with us?” barely a second passed before he responded. “as long as she needs to.”

your sister cries harder against your shoulder, and you shush her gently. “i got you, ladybug… promise.” jason can see the tears in your eyes that are barely held back as you hold her tight.

jason’s never loved you more than he does right now.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

double take

pairing: stranger!jisung (??) x fem!reader

summary: based off of double take by dhruv <3

tags/warnings: jisung is probably headover heels, kind of rushed, type of thing to make your heart race turning red as i write this, not that proofread (as always)

a/n: guys im actually obsessed with how this turned out omg....erm anyways.... love yall <3

alternate version....

masterlist....

"boy, you got me hooked onto something, who could say that they saw us coming? tell me, do you feel the love?...."

The first time Han Jisung saw you, the world tilted slightly. You were sitting on a park bench, headphones over your ears, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you scribbled something into a notebook. The golden rays of the setting sun painted you in hues of warmth, and Jisung’s breath hitched. He’d only meant to take a quick walk to clear his head after a long day at the studio, but now he was rooted to the spot.

He took a double take, blinking as if to confirm that you weren’t some mirage conjured by his overworked mind. You were real. And you were beautiful.

The second time he saw you, it was raining. Hard. Sheets of water pelted the streets, and Jisung cursed himself for forgetting an umbrella. As he hurried toward the nearest coffee shop, drenched and shivering, he nearly collided with you as you stepped out.

“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed, your voice soft but clear even against the drumming rain. Your eyes met his, and something inside him shifted.

“It’s okay,” he stammered, suddenly feeling every drop of water clinging to his skin. You held out a spare umbrella without hesitation.

“Here. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

He wanted to protest, but the sincerity in your gaze stopped him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing yours as he took the umbrella.

Weeks passed, and Jisung found himself frequenting that same park and coffee shop, hoping for another chance encounter. It was unlike him to act this way—he wasn’t usually one for romantic daydreams. But there was something about you that drew him in, something he couldn’t quite put into words.

When he finally saw you again, it was at the park. This time, you weren’t alone. A small dog trotted beside you, its leash wrapped loosely around your wrist. Jisung’s heart raced as he debated whether to approach you. Before he could decide, your dog yanked the leash from your grasp and sprinted straight toward him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you called, hurrying after the dog.

Jisung crouched down, catching the leash with ease. “Gotcha,” he said, chuckling as the dog licked his hand enthusiastically.

You stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath. “Thank you. She’s… a little too excited sometimes.”

“No problem. She’s cute,” he replied, glancing up at you. “Just like her owner.”

Your cheeks flushed, and Jisung’s own face burned as he realized what he’d just said. “I mean…”

You laughed, light and genuine. “Thank you. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Jisung,” he said, holding out a hand. When you took it, his chest tightened, and he couldn’t help but smile.

As days turned into weeks, you and Jisung grew closer. Coffee dates turned into late-night walks, shared laughter, and quiet moments of understanding. He learned about your love for music, how you’d spend hours lost in your own little world with a pair of headphones and a notebook. In turn, he shared his own dreams and insecurities, baring parts of himself he rarely showed anyone.

But there was always a part of him that hesitated, a small voice in the back of his mind that wondered if he was reading too much into your smiles and lingering touches. Were you just being kind? Or did you feel the same pull he did every time your eyes met?

One evening, as the two of you sat on that same park bench where he’d first seen you, Jisung worked up the courage to ask. The sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, the air filled with the soft hum of cicadas.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

You turned to him, your expression open and curious. “Of course.”

He took a deep breath. “Do you… ever think about us? About what we could be?”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, his heart plummeted. But then you smiled, reaching out to take his hand.

“All the time,” you admitted. “I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Relief and joy flooded through him, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve been thinking about you since the day I saw you,” he confessed. “You… you make everything brighter.”

You squeezed his hand, your own smile mirroring his. “Then I guess we’re on the same page.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Jisung leaned in, his heart pounding. And when your lips met, it was as if the universe itself held its breath, the moment stretching into eternity.

In that kiss, every unspoken word, every lingering glance, and every hesitant hope found its answer. And for the first time in a long time, Jisung felt complete.

hope yall enjoyed <3

todays writing playlist....

peaches by justin beiber and double take by dhruv (on repeat lmao)

*bold is explicit*

my playlist

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

[violetflowers55]

Just finished your fanfic on Ao3. And now I’m lost with what to do with myself 😭 Could I please get a Dr Phosphorus with a reader thats super affectionate, just really wants to be near him. Like they’re always trying to find way around his radioactivity, wearing gloves so they can hold his hand etc.

i really loved this idea!!! sorry it took me so long i’ve been sick for like a week 😭 but i didn’t forget! i wanted to keep it short and fluffy <3 also made reader gender neutral. hopefully you enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey! You can’t be back here!”

The intimates who worked in the kitchen all stared at you, angered you’d disturbed them. You slightly tilted your head, looking up at the head chef through your lashes.

“I’m sorry, I know, I just really need to borrow those,” you cooed, pointing to a pair of oven mitts, “please?”

The hulking monster grumbled, but handed them over to you. You giggled to yourself. Waller might’ve been able to inhibit some of your powers, but she couldn’t inhibit good old fashion charm.

Later that day, you snuck into the medical wing. You waited until the techs left the radiology room, then darted inside to grab one of their protective aprons. It was a lot heavier and bulkier than you expected, making it difficult for you to hid it in your shirt. The sound of footsteps carried down the hall and in a panic, you arranged it to look like a pregnant belly. One of the techs returned and stood in the doorway, staring at you with a blank face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I think I got lost on my way to delivery?”

Still staring, he held out his hand and pointed down the hall. You thanked him and shuffled out, holding your “belly” to really sell it. Charm worked again.

Finally, night came. The lights shut off with a clang, and the guards left for the time being. Inconspicuously, you walked around your room, acting like you were stretching, until you landed underneath the camera in your room. You rubbed your hands together, forming an electric shock you then targeted at the camera. Then, you did the same for your inhibitor collar. It was such a minor power most people didn’t know you had it, which is why your collar didn’t stop it. Once you were free of your collar, you grabbed all your supplies and phase shifted through the walls, searching for one specific cell.

He jumped when he finally noticed you in his cell. His green glow illuminated your figure in the darkness. You put a finger to your lips before reaching up and zapping the camera in his room.

“What the hell are you doing here? How the hell are you here?” he asked. You smiled and sidled over him.

“I figured out how to touch you,” you said in a coy voice, trying to smoothly adorn your oven mitts and protective apron. He barked a laugh at your ridiculous getup, but opened the blankets up to you.

“You sure that’ll work?”

“No,” you replied, sliding into his bed, “but I don’t care.”

You wrapped yourself around him, making yourself comfortable on his chest. Even through the gloves and apron, you could feel the heat radiating off him. It warmed you to your core.

“Aren’t you determined,” he chuckled, amused by your antics.

“Mm, very,” you murmured.

You could faintly feel his heartbeat underneath your head. His arms held you close to him, carefully avoiding your bare skin. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved feeling you in his arms, almost as much as he loved how much effort you put in to make it possible. You wiggled even closer; it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to him. You had been deprived of touch for so long and all you wanted was more.

Eventually, you found a position that felt sufficiently close enough to him. He held you close to his chest, also desperate for your touch. The two of you breathed in tandem, drifting off into blissful sleep.

[bellaxgiornata]

You Are My Sunshine [1]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 5.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Summary: Recently released from a stint in Stockton Prison with a few of the Sons, Jax is still struggling with Tara returning to Chicago over a year after he killed Agent Kohn for her. When he returned to Charming, Jax noticed a coffee shop had sprung up across the street from Teller-Morrow Automotive and the clubhouse, oddly finding himself watching the strangely cheerful owner through the windows. One night he feels drawn to step inside, but he's left even more confused when the owner feels like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Jax quickly realizes that the more he visits her shop, the more at peace he finds himself.

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: Not everything will be true to canon in this little series, and this first part starts out in Jax's POV. I just couldn't resist the idea of Jax with someone so bright and bubbly bringing some happiness his way. As a note since I'm newer in the SoA fanfic scene, I always do my best to refrain from adding physical descriptions to Readers, but they are still some form of a character personality-wise. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Placing the cigarette between his lips, Jax flipped open his lighter and held the flame up to the tip of it. He was itching for something right now–a smoke, a drink, a fuck, a fight. He couldn’t quite tell the difference anymore. Everything felt the same–a neverending blur. The days had all begun to bleed together ever since he and the guys had been released from Stockton the other month. 

And everything felt the goddamn same as it did before he'd gone in.

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he pocketed the lighter and leant back against the brick of the clubhouse behind him. Laughter and blaring music was pouring out of the building, the noise always far too loud to be contained by the structure. The Sons were partying again tonight, celebrating a successful closure of a deal from earlier in the day. But for some reason Jax hadn’t felt like partying. The air in the clubhouse felt suffocating, which was why he’d stepped outside into the balmy summer night for a cigarette instead.

As a trail of smoke curled its way upwards from between his lips, Jax stared vacantly across the otherwise empty lot, his eyes landing on the line of motorcycles across from him. His mind inevitably wandered back to Tara while he smoked, something it often did ever since she’d reappeared in his life over a year ago just to disappear all over again. Running away. That's what she had always done best.

He hated that he couldn’t get her out of his head even after all this time. But what he hated even more was that part of him still felt like it was holding onto the ridiculous hope that she’d come back to him. That she might wake up one day and return to Charming and somehow just accept him for who he was, who he'd always been. But that was a fucking bullshit hope and he knew it.

Jax’s jaw clenched in irritation, his fingers tightening around his cigarette as he drew it back up to his lips for another sharp inhale. It was impossible not to think that Tara had used him just to get rid of Kohn knowing that he’d be sympathetic to her situation. Knowing damn well that Jax would never have just walked away when she came to him for help. And it pissed him off that she’d played him like that–that he had let her play him like that. Especially when he’d been so fucking vulnerable after Abel had been born with all of his health complications weighing on his mind. 

He had needed her in return, but Tara hadn’t cared about what Jax was going through. She hadn’t cared about the fact that until that moment, Jax had never killed like he'd killed that night  for her. Every time before had always been for the club–for self-defense, retaliation. But that night? That night it had been out of love. It had been because he'd been protecting someone he cared about. And Tara had thrown him away a second time right afterwards, not even bothering to think about how any of it had affected Jax.

Movement across the street caught Jax’s attention, breaking through his spiraling, agitated thoughts. His head turned as he stood in the dimly lit parking lot, pulling the cigarette away from his lips and blowing out a plume of smoke as his eyes landed on you across the street through the large glass windows of your coffee shop. 

Honest Coffee. You’d opened it at some point when he and a few of the Sons had been doing a few months in Stockton, but ever since he’d gotten out, he’d found his gaze drawn across the street to that building more times than he’d ever willingly care to admit. And he wasn’t entirely sure why, either. Jax was not the kind of guy you’d find sitting inside of a coffee shop sipping on some fancy ass, overly sweetened and overpriced bullshit cup of coffee. That wasn’t his thing. So of course he’d never actually ventured inside the shop that had opened up across the street from the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow Automotive.

But for some goddamn reason he couldn’t help but look.

The entire place stood out amongst the old, worn brick buildings beside it. You’d painted the exterior brick white and hung up some bold, black sign with the shop’s name on it above the entrance. There were even a few little tables and chairs on the sidewalk out front along with writing on one of the large glass windows that read ‘Support your local caffeine dealer.’ Which, for some goddamn reason, amused Jax to no end considering your shop was located across the street from actual arms dealers. 

And there were plants. Goddamn, the amount of plants. A few large potted ones sat outside by the front doors, and there were a handful hanging over all of the large open windows. And, from what Jax had been able to see when he’d ridden past the place multiple times, you had plants on the tables inside, too. So many fucking plants it was like you were making coffee in a damn jungle. He didn’t understand why you had so many or how the hell they always looked like they were thriving. He’d often heard Gemma even compliment the goddamn plants the few times she’d stopped over to get herself coffee.

But it wasn’t entirely the plants or what you’d done to the building to make it appear so warm and inviting in downtown Charming that had him constantly staring across the street. It was you, if he was being honest with himself. You were always working there. He’d already come to assume that you were more than just a barista and that you actually owned the coffee shop with how frequently you were there. And you were attractive, that wasn’t even remotely a question. But you were nothing like the women at the clubhouse, or Redwoody, or Diosa. Where most of the women he’d encountered in his life were all rough and hard edges, you always seemed so soft and sweet. Like a warmth just radiated off of you everytime you smiled. 

And you were always fucking smiling over there. Whenever Jax watched you through the windows, whether he was outside having a smoke with the guys or by himself, you were guaranteed to be standing somewhere in that shop talking to someone with a smile on your face. Despite the fact that he didn't understand how one damn person could smile so damn much in a day, he’d sometimes found himself wondering what it would be like to see that smile up close, to have it directed at himself. There was just something about it, even from this distance across the street, that made it look different from any other smile he felt like he’d been given in his life. Like it was real and not covering a hidden agenda. 

Jax took a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground beside his feet, crushing it out beneath his shoe. His eyes were still on you through those large glass windows as he did. It looked like you were closing up the shop for the day. You were alone inside, the entire place empty as you swept the floor with a broom. But it almost looked like you were dancing as you cleaned, your hips swaying as your lips moved. The corner of Jax’s lips twisted upwards faintly at the sight. Who the hell were you? You were cleaning in an empty shop in downtown Charming, all alone just after sunset, across the street from the disliked and notorious motorcycle club, and you were dancing as you swept?

Who the fuck looked so happy to be cleaning?

Without even thinking, Jax pushed off the wall of the clubhouse and let his feet carry him away from the party raging behind him. An incredulous look was etched across his usually hard features as he began to cross the empty street and make his way towards your coffee shop. Eventually he came to a stop just outside of the front door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he watched the back of you for a minute through the windows. Unquestionably you were inside dancing and sweeping as you listened to–what Jax assumed as he stood just outside–stupid coffee shop music. An amused huff came out of him as he shook his head at the sight.

Not even bothering to check if your shop was closed on the hours listed on the door, Jax slipped a hand out of his pocket and pulled it open. No bell chimed to alert you of his presence, meaning you continued your cleaning and soft singing to yourself with your back facing him, completely unaware you had a customer. A smug smirk tugged at his lips as he sauntered further inside the shop, making his way over to the counter near the register before resting an arm against the white countertop. He leaned his weight against it, crossing his ankles as his head cocked to the side, his blue eyes fixed on you. 

Christ, you looked adorable. Not a thought he often had about women. Usually he went for the ones at the clubhouse barely dressed in much of anything who were always very eager to spend the night with him. Even a few of the girls at Diosa and the pornstars at Redwoody that had sometimes caught his eye would never have been called anything close to ‘adorable’ by Jax. But you just looked so goddamn sweet and you hadn’t even noticed him standing behind you staring.

Clearing his throat, Jax figured he should probably alert you to his presence. He didn’t want to scare you, which he had a feeling might happen if you turned around and spotted someone that looked like him just quietly watching you.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so damn happy sweeping a floor before,” Jax called out.

The way you startled at his voice, spinning around abruptly with a soft, surprised gasp while throwing a hand over your heart, had a pleased grin growing on Jax’s face. You looked so surprised with your wide eyes and parted lips. He almost wanted to laugh, but instead he bit his bottom lip and held the sound back. 

“Relax, darlin’. I’m not here to rob your coffee shop,” he teased.

Almost immediately your expression shifted, the look of surprise disappearing and being replaced with a friendly smile that lit up your entire face. The sight of it did something to Jax, taking him by surprise. Because it was nighttime, you were alone in your shop, and here Jax had stood unannounced behind you, and yet your reaction was to just smile at him like he was some old friend you’d been expecting to see?

A soft laugh fell from your lips as Jax watched you turn around towards him, leaning some of your weight against the broom handle in your hands while your eyes took in the sight of him. He noticed the way you'd briefly scanned his kutte, but that kind smile remained stretched across your pretty mouth when your gaze once more met his.

“I wasn't thinking you were going to, you just startled me,” you answered. “You're extremely quiet on your feet, you know.”

Jax chuckled at the comment, his grin growing a little more amused. If only you knew the half of it.

“I may have been told that a time or two,” he replied, his eyes still taking you in without a hint of subtlety.

“Well,” you began, a playful lilt to your tone, completely unbothered by his gaze, “you know what they say about strange men showing up unannounced after closing, don’t you?”

Completely thrown by the unexpected teasing question coming from someone who looked as sweet as you, Jax couldn’t fight back the small chuckle that managed to fall out of him. “No, darlin’, I don’t. What do they say?” he asked.

Your perceptive eyes, which were still lit from the warmth of your smile, watched the way Jax continued to lean so casually against the countertop. You didn't appear even remotely fazed by his presence here and he found that so incredibly odd. 

“That they want a coffee,” you answered matter-of-factly.

Jax raised a brow curiously at your response, your smile somehow widening even further on your lips. You were not what he'd expected–and he'd already expected you to be something sweet and nice. But it was almost like you were more than even just that. It felt like the goddamn sun was shining on him when you smiled at him, and he didn't know what to make of it. No one in Charming that was an outsider to the club was this kind and friendly to its members. Most of the town had a healthy fear and a good amount of disdain at this point for the Sons.

But not you, apparently.

“Thought you were closing?” Jax asked, shaking the thoughts from his mind as he eyed you curiously. 

You laughed lightly yet again, turning and resting the broom against the shop’s counter now. “Didn't stop you from sneaking in, friend.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, completely genuine in your question as you asked, “So, would you like a coffee?”

An amused noise of disbelief rumbled out of Jax. You spoke to him as if he was any other goddamn customer coming into your shop. He'd never been treated so normal before. 

“Guess if you're offering, sweetheart, then yes,” he finally answered. Jax moved over, lowering himself into one of the chairs at the small counter as he watched you make your way around it. “Though I can't say I'd normally be caught dead ordering anything from a coffee shop.”

Coming to a stop in front of him just on the other side of the counter, your head tilted curiously to the side as you studied him closely. Jax stiffened under the weight of your gaze. It almost felt like you were seeing right through him with the way your eyes ran over his face so carefully. As if you were really taking him in. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him, but then that damn sweet smile was plastered across your lips again before you were speaking.

“Then I'm honored to be the first. And,” you continued, the sound of your voice somehow temporarily soothing that constant burning rage inside of Jax, “I'll even make it on the house. Free of charge this time.”

Jax blinked back at you, stunned into silence for a moment. But then he shook his head, waving a hand at you. “Not gonna let you do that, darlin’. I can pay for a coffee.”

“Didn't say you couldn't, I'm just trying to spread some kindness. Looks you've had a rough day,” you replied, a softness in your voice that wasn't there a moment ago. But then the bright, playfulness was back as you pointed a finger at him. “You look like a regular coffee kind of guy. No creamer, bit of sugar. Am I right?” 

“I…yeah,” Jax answered, a little taken aback at how quickly you'd read him and how easily you spoke to him. “Yeah, I am.”

“There's sweetener on that counter behind you,” you said, gesturing at something behind Jax before you turned around.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder at what you’d pointed out before he focused back on you. Watching in silence, his eyes remained on the back of you as you started on his cup of coffee, but his brows soon furrowed as he watched you work. He'd never seen someone make coffee the way you were doing now. What in the hell were you doing?

“Don't you just...have a machine, sweetheart?” Jax asked slowly.

A soft laugh came from you as you worked, your back to him as you answered. “Pour over is better than drip. I promise.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled at him once more. “Just trust me.”

Still baffled and confused as to what in the hell you were doing, he couldn't help but to keep watching you in silence, completely confused as to how in the hell you were making him what should be just a simple cup of coffee. He really never had stepped foot into a coffee shop before–a big chain one or a locally owned place. He didn’t even know why he’d crossed the street and come over here in the first place, especially with the party going on at the clubhouse where he was supposed to be. 

Lost in his thoughts, Jax’s eyes inevitably dropped down to your ass, taking in the shape of it in your jeans. His head tilted appreciatively to the side as his attention focused on that instead of trying to understand the strange pull he'd felt to step inside your shop once and for all tonight. His tongue slipped out, running along the length of his bottom lip as he took in the unobstructed view before him. You filled your jeans out damn good.

“So you got a name, friend?” you asked, your voice breaking through his thoughts. “Or am I just supposed to keep calling you ‘friend’?”

Jax found himself mentally chastising himself at your interruption, his eyes moving back to yours as you turned around, leaning your back against the counter behind you. There was a sincere expression on your face, like you actually cared to know who he was, and that had him feeling guilty for the way he'd just been looking at you. You weren't like the girls he surrounded himself with, you were actually good. He shouldn't be eyeing you like that. There was no way in hell you'd ever be interested in a man like him, and you definitely didn't look like the one-and-done kind of girl.

“It's Jax,” he answered. “Jax Teller. You got a name, darlin’?”

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upwards when you gave him your name so easily. He had a feeling this was one of the rare times he wouldn't just immediately forget a woman's name after she'd given it to him. 

“You always this cheerful, darlin’?” he asked next, unable to resist the question that had been gradually growing in his mind the longer he sat here. “Or is this some professional, friendly barista persona that you throw on when you're here at work?”

Jax watched as you turned around to the back counter against the tiled wall again, picking up the strange glass container you'd just made the coffee in before pouring it into a to-go cup for him. You were quiet as you worked before turning around and crossing the space over to where Jax was sitting. Reaching a hand out, Jax accepted the coffee from yours, but when his rough fingers brushed against your soft ones, he felt the corners of his lips twitch.

“Owner,” you said softly, your hands resting on the countertop. “Not a barista. And it's not a persona I throw on for work, this is just me.”

Jax’s brows drew together at that as he got off his chair and made his way over to the counter by the entrance to add in some sweetener to the coffee. How the hell was anyone just that friendly and cheerful naturally? Without it being a front? But as he stirred his coffee, wandering back over to the counter and taking his seat again, he noticed that you looked sincere.

“How the hell are you this friendly to everyone?” he asked, sitting back down in the chair at the counter, his coffee momentarily forgotten.

“Because I like being nice,” you simply replied.

Jax made a face at that answer. Who the fuck liked being nice all of the time? That had to be bullshit. There had to be people you didn't like, people that you weren't quite so kind towards. People like him who definitely didn't deserve an ounce of kindness.

“Bullshit,” Jax argued, eyes narrowing at you in suspicion. “There's gotta be rude customers you aren't such a ray of sunshine towards, right? Bad people you don't want in here?”

He watched as your fingers lightly drummed against the countertop, your smile smaller but not gone from your lips. Almost like it was just a permanent fixture on your face.

“I believe everyone deserves some kindness,” you answered genuinely after a moment, holding Jax’s gaze. “Because you never know the weight of what someone is carrying on their shoulders. And sometimes, all someone needs is a kind word or a smile in their day.”

Jax just sat there in silence for a moment, staring at you like you'd just said the most absolutely ridiculous thing. And honestly, he felt like you had. You looked so naive and innocent standing there behind your counter full of those goddamn plants you appeared to love so much.

“You realize who I am, right?” 

The question had slipped out of Jax without much forethought, but he was curious now. Were you somehow that oblivious as to who your shop was across the street from? Was that why you were being so friendly to him?

“Yeah,” you answered with a nod, your eyes focusing behind Jax at the clubhouse through the window for a second before returning to him. “I've seen a lot of you with those…vests? Over there across the street.”

Jax couldn’t stop the chuckle that rumbled out of him. Vests. That was cute. Jesus, you really weren't part of his world at all, were you? You probably had no damn idea about the pistol in his “vest.”

“Kuttes, darlin’. They're called kuttes,” he told you as he drew his cup towards his mouth while he spoke. “They're a bit different and more important than just some vest.”

Jax took a sip of the hot coffee, entirely planning to continue his explanation about how wrong you were about the kuttes, but he was taken off guard by the drink. He hadn't expected it to taste as good as it did. He'd drank coffee before–a shitload of it most days because Jax was no stranger to sleepless nights even before Abel came into the picture–but this didn't taste like the acidic, burnt trash that he'd grown used to masking with sugar.

The sound of your delighted laugh drew his gaze back up to your face. A bright, amused smile was shining back at him. The sight momentarily had Jax forgetting about everything–the coffee, the kuttes, his anger at Tara, the clubhouse party he should be getting back to. All he could do was stare at you, taking in the sight of your smile and the way it felt like it had somehow warmed him more than that hot coffee ever could.

“Is it good?” you asked, gesturing your head towards the cup in his hand. “The coffee?”

Blinking a couple of times, Jax looked back down at the paper cup warming his hand, attempting to return to his senses. “Yeah,” he answered. Roughly clearing his throat, he snapped out of whatever it was that your smile had just done to him. “How the hell do you get your coffee to taste so damn good?”

A pleased smile spread its way across your face when Jax looked back at you. He liked the way a glimmer of something–pride, maybe–reflected back at him in your eyes.

“All about the roast and the extraction, Jax,” you replied. “Fresh, good quality beans that have just been ground make a world of difference. But I'm glad you like it. I've always said a great cup of coffee can help make a bad day better.”

Jax chuckled again, shaking off that weird sensation from a moment ago and drawing the cup up to his lips for another drink of the hot liquid. Goddamn, is this why people paid more instead of just making it their damn selves? Did it actually taste that much better from a coffee shop? 

“Maybe for some people,” Jax mused as he lowered the cup, his eyes fixed on you behind the counter. “But I don't think a cup of coffee is gonna do a damn thing to fix my problems, darlin’.”

Unfazed by his attitude, you simply shrugged a shoulder in response. “You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Jax's mouth. You were adorable. Naive, but adorable.

“I don't think coffee is the solution to anything other than how damn tired I am,” he disagreed.

Loud shouting from across the street caught both of your attention from the shop, the noise interrupting the conversation. Jax noticed the way your eyes darted to the window almost instantly before he sighed and looked over his shoulder behind him. A handful of the guys were outside drunk and having a smoke in the clubhouse lot, a few of the hangarounds clinging to them in their short shorts and crop tops. The sight of them out there was sobering. He knew he should get back to the clubhouse, especially now with how he was beginning to feel a little guilty that he'd interrupted you trying to close your shop.

Turning around in his chair, Jax entirely expected to see some sort of judgmental look on your face at the Sons and the croweaters across the street. It was how everyone outside of the club looked at them. But there was only a hint of genuine curiosity before your gaze shifted back to him in front of you. His brows furrowed faintly together at that, but he quickly pushed the growing questions away. It didn't matter. 

“I should get back over there,” Jax told you. “Make sure those shitheads don't cause too much trouble. And I should let you finish closing up.”

He rose from the chair at the counter, his lips straightening along his face as he got to his feet with his coffee in hand. For some reason, he found he didn't really want to go back over to the clubhouse, though. Whatever frustration he'd been feeling before he had walked over here tonight had somehow just vanished within the short time he'd spent sitting here talking to you. Something no amount of drinking, fucking, or riding his bike had even managed.

“You're right, it's well past close for me now,” you admitted, glancing at the clock on the wall behind yourself.

Another pang of guilt flooded Jax at your words. It was completely his fault that you were here so late now because he had stupidly walked in here for…he didn't even know what. Except that smile returned to your face again almost immediately, as if you weren't even upset that he had interrupted your night. 

“I'm curious about something, sweetheart,” Jax found himself saying, his eyes narrowing at you as he spoke. “Would you have kicked me out at some point tonight, or are you too nice for that, too?”

Another small, casual shrug came in response to the question. “Eventually, yes,” you answered. “I do need to eventually go home and sleep before coming back here tomorrow morning.” You paused, that look on your face like you were seeing straight through him briefly returning before you continued. “But you looked like you needed…something. Figured a coffee wouldn't hurt, at least.”

Jax stood there staring at you, just taking in what you had said and that warm, friendly smile. It didn't make sense–you didn't make sense. And he wasn't sure how he felt about the way you seemed to actually see him. It was unsettling.

“You're an odd one, sunshine,” he murmured. 

Almost instantly, a delighted laugh met Jax’s ears as he took another sip of his coffee. As he swallowed the drink down, his own lips couldn't keep from drawing themselves upwards at the sound. 

“Sunshine?” you asked, both of your brows raising back at him.

Bottom lip rolling between his teeth, Jax bit back the grin threatening to spread across his face as he nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sunshine,” he repeated. “Suits you. You're so goddamn friendly and nice.”

“Well that's a new one for me,” you told him.

There was something different about the smile on your face now, but Jax couldn't quite place what it was. He'd never had a woman smile at him like that before. Not even Tara.

The thought of Tara was like a kick to the chest, a jolt of pain shooting through Jax. His expression abruptly fell, aware that all the usual thoughts he'd had about her after she had left him a second time were going to come back and hit him hard the second he walked out of your shop. 

“Right. I should let you close,” he replied tersely. 

Giving you a nod in goodbye, Jax's mouth felt dry as he turned around towards the exit. A confusing mix of thoughts were swirling in his mind now.

“Goodnight, Jax,” you called out behind him.

The sweet, soft tone gave him pause as he rested one hand on the door handle. His blonde brows drew together, jaw clenching tight as that familiar rage and darkness inside of him felt like it was clawing its way up his chest, threatening to spill out of him in the form of some rude comment that would knock that friendly smile off your face. He didn't deserve you treating him like this. He was a terrible person. He knew he could prove it to you with just a few simple words, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke again.

“Feel free to stop in again sometime,” you told him. “You're welcome here anytime just like anyone else, Sons’ President or not.” A soft noise almost like a little laugh came next before you added on, “Preferably when I'm open, though.”

His body went rigid at that pleasant, melodic little laugh of yours. Slowly, Jax turned to look over his shoulder at you still standing behind the counter. You were indeed over there smiling, but the urge to be an asshole just to show you what kind of man he really was–that he shouldn't be treated like everyone else–disappeared almost immediately at the sight of it. How the hell did you keep doing that? Keep disarming him so easily with just a goddamn smile?

“I'll keep that in mind,” he muttered.

Without giving you a chance to say more, confused as to the weird effect you seemed to have on him, he pushed the door open and stepped back out into the summer evening. The noise from the clubhouse across the street carried its way to Jax’s ears as he began to make his way back over to where the Sons were smoking in the parking lot. He took another drink of his coffee as he went, his thoughts briefly straying to you and that entire strange encounter he'd just had.

There was just something about you that was so damn unfamiliar to Jax. You were all light and warmth, like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Nothing like anyone he'd ever met before in his life and it intrigued him as much as it bothered him. For weeks he had been watching you through your shop window wondering what it would be like to have you smile at him like he'd often seen you smile at all of your other customers, and now he knew. It felt like the summer sun finally rising to start the day after a long, dark night. And Jax found himself oddly craving more of your warmth, suddenly not giving a shit if he got burned in the process.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

One thing I absolutely love about Bradley and Smart Aleck is how whenever she rides his thigh, he bounces her a little, and that just makes her lose it 🫠

Like, I can see Smart Aleck sitting on his lap while in front of his friends, and him just randomly bouncing his lap and she has to take a moment before saying or doing anything. She would be a mess by the end of the night.

Also, in your Christmas party fic, Bradley mentioned using the Theragun as a vibrator. Imagine him bringing it out and just surprising Smart Aleck with it (I've never used a Theragun, I have only seen it online so I'm not sure if this is completely correct)

this took me a minute to reply to because i wanted to actually write something for you! i was actually in a meeting at work when i first saw the message preview on my lock screen and i stg i was blushinggg so hard 🤭 because my god what a delicious thought!

yes! he’d bounce her just a little, like just enough to get a reaction out of her and get a little whimper out of her. to your point i could picture them in the hard deck and it’s a big deal that she came out with them? more below!

but also the theragun would actually hurt which is something bradley would realize the second he turned his on to even the lowest setting haha. though i do think that he’d randomly be like ‘gun me’ and have her do his back/shoulders 🤭

—————-

“well, look who decided to grace us with her presence this fine evening.”

jake looked even more smarmy than usual as you and bradley approached the group of pilots and partners holding court at a corner table. at the comment, bradley’s hands tightened where they were on your shoulders. it was a bit of a crush in the bar tonight, but he had guided you over without issue.

you completely ignored jake’s comment and his follow up about slumming it that night and greeted everyone - bob, callie, and natasha, as well as sarah costigan, whom jake had presumably dragged along. sarah even tossed you a kind smile in return. granted, she was still annoying and slightly condescending, but she wasn’t that bad. at least she didn’t head off to the jukebox and queue up hall & oates’ rich girl like jake did.

you let bradley slide into the circular booth before you and then sat on the end. being mr protective, bradley normally wouldn’t like having you sit at the end of the booth, but he knew you liked the space and ease of a quick getaway with a lot of people.

and it wasn’t that you didn’t like going to the hard deck. you just didn’t like how crowded and loud it could get on fridays and saturdays, which was when bradley’s friends tended to go. normally, the group would get together at the beach or go for a hike or even to another bar or someone’s house to hang out - and you always tried to attend - but their old standby was the hard deck and those were the nights you typically skipped.

you had been there about an hour when everything took a different turn. everyone was chatting and the music wasn’t too loud yet, and you were in a good mood, which was probably helped by the fact that you were on your third cosmo and bradley his fourth beer.

but then mickey and his girlfriend, cielo, showed up, which meant there were even more people crammed into the already crowded circular booth. you got up to give both cielo and mickey a hug and then the two of them sat down on the other side of the booth. which in turn meant everyone scooted down further towards your side.

scratch that - your side was gone.

all that was left was a sliver of space for maybe one of your bare thighs to find itself plastered against the warm vinyl upholstery. bradley quickly noticed your distress and pulled you half onto his lap. he barely broke his stride, so focused was he on his conversation with bob and callie. or so you thought.

the way he had manhandled you onto his lap was done with little consideration to your pink dress - the same pink dress from your first date some eighteen months ago - and it bunched up between your ass and bradley’s jeans. you sucked in a breath.

oh.

you were still covered, still safe from any risk of indecent exposure, but oh it felt nice having your bare skin brush against bradley’s jeans. the jeans that were stretched across his big, strong, broad thighs. did he realize? did he know?

it was nice sitting on his lap; you were content, happy, warm. safe. it wasn’t something you’d ever done in front of other people before; normally, neither of you were this bold, but you weren’t yourself, it was too loud, too warm, too overwhelming in the hard deck. and bradley knew that. he knew you were fussy. he always knew when you needed to get out of your head.

a few minutes went by and you tuned into various conversations and groups, but you eventually focused back on your little group at the end of the booth with bradley, bob, and callie. they were talking about one of the the college football games on earlier because bob was a big sec fan. at one point, the boys got so animated and bradley got so into gesturing with his hands that you slipped a little in his lap. and then -

and then bradley bounced you.

oh.

he bounced you on his thigh and tightened his arms around you to keep a better hold on you.

“sorry, kid,” he muttered in your ear and then went back to his conversation, completely unaware of the whimper you let out.

oh.

that felt nice. that felt good.

you loved when he bounced you on his thighs.

you loved when he let you ride his thighs.

see bradley liked when you’d have to work hard to get yourself off. sometimes, he made it a punishment. it was torture - he wouldn’t touch you and you’d have to work for your orgasm. you’d get so frustrated.

and once you’d finally reach your peak and your cum would streak across his thigh, he’d sink his fingers - his big, strong fingers - inside your cunt and you’d ride them for another round until you’d get rewarded with his cock.

this time the whimper you let out was a little louder, but still for bradley’s ears only.

“you okay, kid?” he bounced you again.

this time your legs spread a little wider under the table and you shifted in his lap. you were getting flustered, warm. surely the sweat was building at the back of your neck, between your thighs -

“mmhmm, just slipped.” you took a huge sip of your cosmo, hoping to cool yourself down. god, this was so embarrassing. why were you getting like this? it was just a bounce. he hadn’t even meant to do it.

please don’t let him find out.

“yeah?” bradley bounced you again and your breath caught. “can’t have that - here.”

his thumbs dug into the tender flesh by your hips, anchoring you to him. you tried to shift, tried to squirm, but he wouldn’t budge.

“th-thanks.”

you took another sip of your cosmo. it was almost done, that had to be why you were reacting this way. three drinks normally made you tipsy, but not drunk, so it had to explain your flustered state and your heightened sense of arousal.

he knew. he had to know. he had to know how wet you were. how your pussy was clenching on nothing. how you wanted him to take you out of here and let you ride him in the car. maybe he’d finger you against the bronco like he did that night all those months ago?

bradley turned back to the group. “hey, why don’t you tell bob and callie about that project you’re kicking off at work?”

“oh. it’s not - it’s not really that exciting -”

“she’s lying,” bradley squeezed your hip, “come on, tell them about the projecting you’re presenting in london.”

callie gasped. “london? again? oh, i’m so jealous! how long are you going to be gone?”

“just a - a couple days. they’re scaling this project i did in the US for the EMEA market. just a - a presentation.”

somehow, when bob asked where you were staying and if you were doing anything fun while you were there, you managed to give an almost coherent answer. almost coherent.

but then you turned the tables back on the two of them and asked if they were excited for their trip to see callie’s parents in bryn mawr. you didn’t know much about the area baring the fact that mary once went out there to interview for a teaching position, but that wouldn’t have mattered anyway since you could barely focus on the last minute details for callie’s sister’s wedding because of bradley’s stupid hands.

the first time he did it, you didn’t think much of it. okay so he took a sip of his beer and fiddled with the glass before he put his hand on your thigh. it was cold, no big deal.

but then he did it again when callie mentioned the gorgeous bridesmaids’ dresses. and again when bob praised callie’s speech draft. and again when they mentioned the welcome party on thursday was scheduled around the eagles’ game.

it was cold and you could feel your nipples hardening and your breath coming in faster and god - could everyone tell? did they notice? you didn’t want them to notice, you just wanted bradley to notice.

feeling bold, you tried to trap his cold hands between your thighs, but when bradley yanked his hand away, you almost lost your balance. and what else was he supposed to do but bounce you and get you settled back on his lap. he growled a warning in your ear.

oh god. you wanted it louder, you wanted it just for you. you weren’t wearing a bra, could anyone tell? you hoped bradley could tell.

you hoped bradley bradley knew.

(you hoped daddy knew.)

the promise of what was to come was getting to be too much. you could have blamed it on the cosmos, the noise, the heat, the number of people, but it really was just one thing - bradley.

bob and callie were talking to natasha now, so it was just you and bradley at your end of the table.

“bubs?” you looked over your shoulder to meet bradley’s eyes and knew he was just as wrecked for you as you were him. “please?”

he cocked an eyebrow, looking entirely too smug. “aww sweetheart, why didn’t you just say you wanted to leave?” all the condescension did was make you want him more.

before you could respond, before you could try and say something clever, he cleared his throat and directed his next words to the entire table.

“‘think the kid and i are gonna head out.”

it only took a few moments to say your goodbyes - hugs from those who were easily able, waves to those who were not - and then you and bradley started meandering your way to the bar.

once again, after he paid your tab, bradley guided you out of the bar with a his hands on your shoulders and a broad presence at your back. you whimpered at the thought of him inside you, your big, broad, beautiful boyfriend inside you, telling you that you were a good girl for him. such a good slut for him. for daddy.

it had been a couple months since you’d first said it - said daddy - but it still made your pussy clench and your heart beat wildly.

the moment you were out in the cool parking lot, you sighed back against his chest. the pulsating music that once felt too loud was not a calming presence away from the chaos.

“atta girl, you did such a good job with my teasing.” his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close so you could feel how much he wanted you. “you ready for your reward?”

“yes, daddy.”

———————

half an hour later, on their way way out, bob, callie, and natasha didn’t even notice that bradley’s car was still in the parking lot even after the two of you supposedly left.

they also didn’t notice that the windows were fogged up. or that one of your sandals was on the ground by the driver’s seat door. 🤭

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

Eskel's viper eyes looked the crimson haired Sorceress over appreciatively as she did the same of him when she arrived to join him at the inn courtyard. When she moved in closer, he nodded at her words, holding on to Scorpion's reins as the Axii Sign continued to sooth the war horse. Then, his medallion went wild as she summoned forth her magic, a golden gateway portal to Kaer Morhen... everyone around the courtyard and the road stopping where they were to behold it. Whispering with fear and amazement to one another alike, not often getting to glimpse such magic for themselves. When she started forward to enter the gate, he did the same, leading Scoprion on through it, the three of them departing the town as one, in an instant. Teleporting several kingdom's distance away to the Blue Mountains of Kaedwen, to Kaer Morhen Valley, in an instant. The sensation uncomfortable, but familiar, had never bothered him as much as it did Geralt. When the magical portal deposited the three of them in the familiar courtyard, it closed back up as if it had never been, the humming of his medallion ceasing. He took a moment to take in his surroundings again... it had been too long since he'd been back to the valley. He breathed in the welcome, familiar Blue Mountains air, savoring it. It was good to be home... even if it involved bringing her here with him again, unpleasant memories... it had been here Deidre had maimed him, this very courtyard. And there were the unwelcome prospects of their hunt for the book. A matter she swiftly returned them to at once, eager to be reunited with the Necronomicon. He nodded, deep, calm voice speaking up as he patted the horse, undoing the Axii Sign on him at last.

"No need for us to put away Scorpion in the stables, I suppose, we won't be staying too long. Can graze down here in the meantime. The armory and libraries are within the great hall. Let's head up there. The books will remain in the library after you have consulted them. They are my property, and dealing with one cursed book and its cult are headache enough. Not risking the Cult of Azathoth getting their hands on another. Especially not the Malleus Bestiarum or the Naturom Demonto."

The Witcher was firm on the matter, his tone brooking no argument, as at last he stepped back from the horse and made for the nearby stairs up towards the main keep, along with Sabrina. He took in the surroundings all the way, wishing he could remain at the keep for awhile... but, if they succeeded, they could always return here at some point. Reaching the top of the stairs, he opened the pair of great double doors into the main hall, stepping in out of the cold and the snow. Once she was in, he closed it behind them, looking around the vast, familiar interior and starting to cast his Igni Signs upon the various ready candles and fireplaces, bringing forth come illumination and warmth alike over the place. There was no place like home alright... the desolate hall bringing memories of the times it had once been full of Witchers. He was tempted to fetch a bottle of White Gull, head up a tower and call it a day. Instead, he looked over towards the armory section... he would have to stock up a good deal for the hunt ahead, and get some food into them before they set out, stock up their fresh supplies. But first thing was first... or he wasn't liable to hear the end of it from her. The dusty old, sizable library. At least the one up here... he certainly wasn't about to show her the one on the lower levels, much less their old laboratories. What she needed was topside anyways... he wasn't about to let the ambitious Sorceress go snooping out the school's many forbidden secrets. Hopefully how distracted she was over the Necronomicon would work in his favor, here. Starting forward, he led her down to it, viper eyes looking among the many tomes on the assorted shelves and bookcases. Memory returning of the times he had studied in the library, as a student. As well as updating the codex over the course of his adventures.

"Here you are. Take your pick, red. And handle them with care. Many of these books are older than both of us put together."

@fallesto

Sabrina moved swiftly through the room, collecting her few possessions and placing them into her leather satchel. She had always liked to travel light, especially when on missions such as these. The less that could be lost or stolen, the better. As she moved through the doorway, the cold morning air hit her, a stark contrast from the warmth of the room. She didn’t bother with a cloak, instead, she let the chill wake her up fully, invigorating her for the day ahead. Her eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any signs of trouble. The world had changed so much since she had last been out on the hunt, but she knew it was all for the greater good. As she made her way down the stairs, she could feel the eyes of the inn patrons boring into her back, whispering about the powerful sorceress who had brought the monster slayer into their midst. She ignored them, her thoughts solely on the book that had been stolen from her. The loss was a heavy burden she couldn’t shake off, and she knew that until she had it back, she wouldn’t rest.

The courtyard was quiet, the dirty ground cold under her bare feet. Eskel was already there, his horse Scorpion saddled and ready. The creature was a magnificent beast, a symbol of his strength and valor. She had to admit, seeing him again, looking so much like the man she had once knew, it brought back memories that she had buried deep. Memories of battles fought side by side, of laughter shared in quiet moments between missions. But she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. They had a long journey ahead and no time to waste on nostalgia.

“Let us depart.”

With a flick of her wrist, a burst of golden light shot out from her hand and grew into an archway that hummed with arcane energy. The air around it crackled and the very fabric of reality seemed to stretch and bend. Sabrina stepped closer to the shimmering gate, her eyes narrowed in concentration. The portal grew wider, the edges becoming more defined as the energy pulsed and danced around her. A cold wind picked up, whipping her hair around her face as she whispered the incantation that would transport them to Kaer Morhen with this portal. With a final, decisive gesture, she stepped through the archway. The sensation was like being submerged in a pool of icy water, the very air around her turning liquid and then solid again in the space of a heartbeat. The world around her swirled and shifted, the colors bleeding into one another until she could no longer tell where she ended and the magic began. It was a moment of pure, unbridled wonder that made her stomach flutter and her head spin. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

“Gather what you need now Eskel, and we can go and deal with this.”

The courtyard of Kaer Morhen greeted her, much as she remembered it. The towering stones, the cold, stark beauty of the place that had once been a bastion of power and knowledge. It was now a silent sentinel, a relic of a bygone age, but it still held a certain allure that she hadn’t been able to resist. The air was thinner up here, and the smell of dust and decay hung heavy, a reminder that nothing lasts forever. The ground underfoot were the same ones she had stepped on so many years ago, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as she made her way across the open space, as she stretched and looked around, knowing that he would no doubt, not be all too pleased she was here after all this time, but it was necessary. 

[heartforbangtan]

The only exception | 4

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader 

Genre:  Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining 

Chapter Count: 4 /? (ongoing) 

Word count: 7,5k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: Hiii, I'm back agaaain. This chapter is a bit spicy 😋😋 just saying 👀

Tag list

⭠ previous | index | next ⭢

Our secret moments in a crowded room They got no idea about me and you  Dress – Taylor Swift 

Busan 

You don't know when it started, but suddenly Jimin's favorite hobby was flirting with you without anyone seeing. More and more he said things that drove you crazy. And you never knew if he was telling the truth or just teasing you.

You walked down the school hallway during your break, looking for Jimin who was in a different room in this class.

You hear a voice calling you and look back. A girl you've only seen a few times at school approaches you with red cheeks. You can't remember her name.

“Hey...“ she says with a little smile.” You're Jimin's friend, right?’

Oh, you knew what this was. She was interested in him. Here we go again.

It was a question she knew the answer to, after all, everyone at school knew that you two were friends.

“Uh, yes, I am.”

“So... can you please give him this note?“ She hands you a small piece of paper. ”It has my name and number written on it.’

“Okay…” you agree a little reluctantly, but she didn't even notice because she was too focused looking behind you.

You really didn't understand that. If she wanted to talk to him so badly, why didn't she just give him the note herself? It would give off more of an air of trust than sending others to do her job. You were too tired of that.

When you turn around, you find Jimin across the hall laughing with some friends. Seriously, she's so silly about this.

You take a deep breath and give her a toothless smile. When you turn back to find Jimin, he's already looking at you, smiling. You walk towards him and Jimin separates from his friends and heads further to the right side of the hallway to meet you.

She watches as you go talk to Jimin.

“Hey” you say smiling as you stop in front of him.

“Hi.” Jimin smiles seductively and you know that smile is what makes girls fall in love.

But you won't fall.

“So…” his gaze goes to your hand holding the note.

“You already know what it is." You roll your eyes and he laughs.

“Give it to me.” He stretches out his hand and you hand him the note. Jimin opens it and takes a look, without taking the shit-eating smile off his face.

Jimin leans close to your ear to speak while looking at the girl.

“I only have eyes for you, you know that. “ Jimin chuckles and you are left speechless.

What?!

He gave the girl a wink, but you couldn't see it.

Jimin puts the paper in his pocket and walks away laughing. You blink a few times and then compose yourself. The girl was almost jumping up and down where you left her waiting.

Within seconds you had to process what happened and come up with an excuse for her, because she was already coming towards you.

“So? What did he say?” she asked excitedly, clasping her hands together.

“It’s...He said he'll send a message.”

You felt bad, but what could you do?

“Oh my god, thank you so much“ she hugs you happily and you don't have time to hug her back before she leaves to meet her friends.

The girl, whose name you didn't even care about, leaves happily to meet her friends and tell them what happened. But you remain almost paralyzed in place, still thinking about Jimin's words.

Seriously, who can handle that? There's no way he could have shaken your foundations with just those words. Even though you reminded yourself every day that you wouldn't fall for his charms. Here you are now, blushing like a 15-year-old (which wasn't that long ago). But that doesn't matter.

When the break is over, you're still thinking about the same thing. And when you walk back into the classroom and see Jimin acting like nothing happened, you almost think you've imagined things.

You can't believe the nerve he has. How could he say that to you and then act like nothing happened?

You sit at a table in front of him, but you don't give him any importance. You take your things out of your bag and start organizing them on the table so you have something to occupy yourself with.

Soon the grammar teacher enters the room, arranging his own desk before starting the class.

You sigh deeply. The last thing you wanted was to have grammar class. But finals are approaching and you can't afford to miss them.

While you're distracted looking through your notebook for the last notes from your grammar class, Jimin leans over his desk behind you. His chin stops just above your shoulder, making you jump in your seat and he pulls away.

“Easy, baby.“ Jimin says softly just for you to hear.

You close your eyes tightly, anger taking over your body.

It's obvious he would make fun of you. And the fact that you reacted exactly the way he wanted makes you even angrier. You wish you had more self-control.

“Don't call me that.” you say through your teeth quietly, only for him to hear too.

Everyone is still talking in the classroom, so almost no one pays attention to your little interaction with Jimin.

“Why not?“ he pauses dramatically. ”Baby?"

You turn around so you can look him in the eye and find Jimin looking a little seductive for a thursday morning grammar class.

Jimin subtly runs his tongue across his mouth and your eyes betray you when they fly straight to his mouth. You hate yourself for this once again. Once again you fell into his game. And Jimin is already smiling when he realizes that for a second you looked at his lips.

“You piece of sh…”

“Well, everyone, let's start today's class. Please be quiet.”

You let out a snort and turn around, not before seeing Jimin staring at your mouth and then quickly at your eyes.

He is unbelievable!

The rest of the class passed by in a torturous manner. You could barely pay attention to the new concepts the teacher was talking about because you were too aware of Jimin's presence behind you.

“Or Jimin really likes you or he's gay.” Yuna says with the calmest face you've ever seen, as if she hadn't just made you almost choke on her words.

“What did you say?”

You have to stop your snack to question her. You heard very well what she said, but you can't believe it.

“That's right, you heard it. Don't pretend you don't see it either.“ She raises an eyebrow, showing that she's not joking about the subject.

You shift uncomfortably on the grass of the schoolyard where you are sitting during break.

“I don't think he's gay…” your mind flies to all the moments you had together and a shiver runs down your legs.

“So he likes you.” she doesn't hesitate to say.

Yuna speaks as if she were saying that the weather is sunny today.

“I don't think that's it either. “ your heart was beating fast in your chest.

“Really? So how do you explain the way he looks at you and the care he only has for you?”

Yuna crosses her arms in front of her body.

“It's just... normal. We're like brothers, we've known each other since childhood.” you start to sweat nervously at your friend's question.

You know she doesn't mean any harm. But you weren't prepared to hear today that Jimin seems to have feelings for you.

Exactly this week. After all the wills you had to go through.

Today really wasn't your day.

“My brother doesn't treat me like that. He's always hitting me and calling me a pig for leaving my towel in the bathroom.” She laughs and you force one too.

“It's just the way he is.”

And you're not lying when you say that. Jimin has a gentle way of being that no one you know has. He's just him.

And you're sure he doesn't treat you in any special way. Jimin is kind to everyone and that's easily noticeable. There's no reason to second-guess yourself because of it.

“Oh stop, tell me you don't have a little crush on him”  she pushes your shoulder and waggles her eyebrows.

You stay silent for a few seconds, but she doesn't give you time to question yourself.

“Come on!” she almost whines, while continuing to push you with her shoulder.

“Think about his thick lips and... Oh! His hot ass, jesus!”

“Stop it!”

You two are laughing so hard.

“I don't know. Maybe?” you laugh shyly and she widens her eyes.

As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

This was sure to spark gossip. And you really didn't want people to start bothering you about it. Not after you and Jimin had spent so long denying that you liked each other.

“See? I knew there was something there. Hoseok owes me 10 dollars for this.” she celebrates without even paying attention to your terrified face.

Wait. Hoseok?

“Hoseok owes you? What the hell is this?” your face contorts in confusion.

“Oh, honey, we all bet you two have a crush on each other. I just didn't think it would be that easy to get it out of you. “ She laughs and you get a little irritated.

“You mean you don't care about my feelings?” your tone changes and her playful expression falls.

This is so out of line. You didn't expect your friends to make bets involving the two of you like this.

“Y/n, it's not that. Please don't think about it this way. We all want you to be together, trust me.” she holds your hand and has a genuine expression on her face.

You feel like she's starting to get a little desperate in the way she talks.

“You're already assuming he has some kind of interest in me.”

You play dumb to her, even though you know that Jimin is interested in you. But you think that maybe it's not like that. You think that what you two do is just a fun pastime and that it doesn't mean anything deeper than that.

And you know that for you, things are becoming problematic. But maybe for Jimin, it's just fun to have a girl available for him to kiss. And being you, someone he knows, makes everything easier.

And deep down, really deep down, you'd like to hear from an outsider that Jimin seems to like you. Somehow it comforts your heart and your ego, even if you have to ask him directly to be sure. But obviously you're not going to do that.

“Oh, come on. Everyone can see that he has a huge crush on you.”

Your face heats up once more at her words.

“I don't think so.”

“Seriously? Everyone has already noticed you two being clingy with each other. Oh chimchim this, mimi that“ she does a terrible imitation of your voice and you push her aside.

‘Stop it. I'm not like that.” you start laughing, because it's ridiculous.

And it's true.

“Of course it is. Ugh, I can't stand you two, seriously. I wish I had someone like that for myself.”

She rolls her eyes and you both start laughing.

It had been a while since you had shared something so intimate with someone other than Jimin.

Sometimes it was nice to have a girl talk.

“But seriously, is there nothing going on between you two?’ she nibbles on the cookies you are eating.

You stop and think.

It had really been a long time since you had any girl talk. What harm would it do to have some of that now?

You needed that escape.

“Okay, if I tell you, will you promise me two things? “ you say, uncertain, but already implying that you have a secret.

She widens her eyes and finishes chewing the cookie.

“Sure, I promise you even three." You laugh at her face. ”Seriously, no bets now.”

You straighten up on the grass you're sitting on.

“First you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Of course.”

“Second, please don't freak out too much about it. It's really no big deal.”

You know it's a big deal.

“Okay…” she analyzes you, waiting for you to continue.

“Seriously, don't tell anyone.”

“Just say it already”

“So... we've already, um, kissed “ you fiddle with your fingers looking down, because you're dying of embarrassment.

Her jaw drops and she even drops the cookie she was holding.

“I knew it! I knew soo much! My God.”

You glared at her.

“Alright, alright, no freaking out.”

She tries to control herself.

“When did it happen? Like, how? Oh my god, there are so many questions.”

She looks like a crazy person looking at you.

“Okay, calm down. It's not a big deal, it's just kisses.”

“Kisses? In plural?”

Shit.

You cover your face with your hands, blushing. You're starting to think you've said too much.

“You're so dirty! I can't believe you gave kisses to Park Jimin! “ she slaps you on the arm

“It's no big deal, I swear.”

“Okay, but how did this happen? Tell me the details, for God’s sake.”

She shakes you by the arm.

“I don't know. It just happened. I won't tell you too many details…”

“Urgh, okay. But... when was the last time you guys kissed?’

You pause, wondering if you should tell her. She looks at you with a dramatic look, as if to say, “just spill it.”

“Y-yesterday”

Her jaw dropped for the tenth time today. You blushed again.

“Yesterday?! That's insane.”

“Keep your voice down, everyone will hear you.”

You look around suspiciously.

“You're so in love!”

“That's not it!”

“Oh, it is! My God, you guys are so stupid.”

You start to pack your things because the break is almost over. But really you just wanted an excuse to get out of this subject. You're starting to get nervous.

“I shouldn't have told you that.”

“Hey!”

She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her.

“It's alright, okay?” she looks deep into his eyes, seeing the desperation.” It's okay to like someone, even if it's your best friend.”

You try to let go of her because your heart starts to tighten and you don't want to start crying in the middle of the courtyard.

“He likes you too.”

She says in a last attempt to make you listen.

“This won't lead to anything.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

She's getting up too and you kind of turn your back, grabbing your backpack.

“There's nothing to say.”

“Y/n…”

“Enough, okay? I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

She looks a little sad, but she understands your request.

“Okay. Just know that I will always support you.”

Your heart softens a little, despite the erratic beats it's making.

“Thank you, really.”

“And I won’t tell Hoseok that I won the bet.”

You slap her arm and she starts laughing.

And you walk together to your next class, with time running out and arriving 5 minutes late. 

After all the talk with Yuna, you suddenly became very aware of Jimin's presence and all his actions towards you.

And deep down you wish he liked you too.

Jimin is researching dance schools on the computer in his room. The research has been long and he hasn't been happy with some of the comments. Jimin watched some videos explaining how the selection process works for most schools, and some of the comments on the videos complained about the strict rules of these places.

A random comment said:

Kot878: These places are tough on training. And they don't even let you date!

That couldn't be true, right? About the training maybe, but they couldn't forbid them from dating, right?

Jimim got nervous. He knew he wasn't dating anyone, but he couldn't help but fantasize about it. What if you liked him too? Maybe you could date, right?

Jimin was paralyzed looking at that comment, when he heard the sound of footsteps and the door to his room was quickly opened.

“Boo”

Jimin gets scared by you and quickly closes the browser window.

"Shit! Knock before entering.”

“What are you doing? Watching porn?” you giggle and move closer to him.

Jimin was already nervous because you almost caught him looking at that information, after what you said he got even more nervous.

“O-of course not. Are you idiot?”

“Then why did you close the browser window?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and move closer to the computer.

“I was just looking at some dance schools.”

And suddenly you forgot that you were questioning him. Your face lit up with his words and you became excited.

“Really? And how is it going?”

You sit on his bed, waiting for him to answer.

“I haven’t found any nearby yet.”

Jimin wasn’t lying. But that random information he read in a comment left a huge doubt in his head. He would have to look better after you left.

“Hm, but you can move to another city if you get in”

But what about you? Would you stay apart?

“But...”

“I could go with you.”

“What!? No.” Jimin says quickly. He didn’t want to change cities.

“Don’t you want me to come with you?” you pout looking at him.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t want to have to move to another city.” Jimin exhales. This whole situation of looking for dance schools has been stressing him out.

“Well, but maybe that’s the only option”

You’re probably right.

“I’ll take a better look later.”

You nod, swinging your feet over the edge of his bed.

“So, what are you doing here?”

You suddenly remember why you came here.

“I need you to teach me how to study.”

“But your grades are good, right? There’s no need for me to teach you.”

“No! I need to do even better this time. My parents will give me the album of the band I like if I do well.”

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you on the bed, coming closer and making you lean back on your arms.

“You enter a boy's room very freely.”

You swallow. He looks so serious. You feel a little nervous at the sudden change in mood.

“It's just you.”

“And?”

“I-I trust you.”

Jimin remains in the same position, too close to you and analyzing you. He thinks that you still don't see him as a man, even though you've kissed several times.

“What is that?”

You look so pretty like this, with a slightly flushed and confused face. Jimin can only think that he wants to kiss you everywhere. But he doesn't want to pressure you and you end up thinking that he's going too far. What if you stop talking to him? He wouldn't be able to stand that.

Then he rethinks and walks away from you.

“Just... Don't go into boys' rooms like that.”

Jimin sits next to you on the bed, not looking at your face. You get more nervous. What did he mean by that?

“Uhh, okay?”

You actually thought he was going to kiss you again for a few seconds. And honestly, you really wanted him to.

You couldn't muster up enough courage to say that you came here not only because you wanted him to teach you how to study better, but because you wanted to be with him. And maybe... you could get some kisses from him.

“What subjects do you need help with?”

“We can start with math.”

You're trying to memorize the stages of cell division in the library, but you can't figure out how to make it happen logically. You keep forgetting the order all the time and it's already stressing you out.

Pro meta ana tel... That's it! You got it-

“So, have you guys done it yet?” Yuna whispers, sitting next to you.

You write down the logical sentence in your notebook and are happy with your idea. You barely paid attention to what Yuna said, focusing your attention on the logic you just created.

“Yeah, we already did the work—”

“You guys had sex!?”

“What? Oh my god, Yuna, I was talking about the history work”

Your voice gets a little loud from the shock you got from Yuna's words. Some of your classmates give you two ugly looks. Your face is already hot and Yuna's eyes are wide open as she stares at you.

“My God, I say. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Stop thinking nonsense and study!” you look away from her and point to the notebooks, organizing your study sheets that don’t need to be organized.

“I’m tired of studying. And your life is cooler than mine, so I want to know more.”

She rests her face in her hands and pouts. You really can’t stand it.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

“Why? It’s normal to do these things.”

Once again, the subject is turning to things you really don’t want to talk about right now, and certainly not in the middle of the library. You feel like you two are going to be thrown out of the library any minute.

You take a deep breath and try to speak as quietly as possible, and in a way that Yuna will end the damn subject.

“We’re not going to do…that.”

“Why not?”

She looks like a child like that.

“Let's focus on studying, hm?”

She snorts.

“Give me some love advice.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

You grab a sheet of paper with notes and hand it to her.

“Seriously.” She takes the paper and looks at it without interest. “Maybe I like Hoseok.”

“Hobi? Oh my God, I knew this was weird.”

Now it’s your turn to disconnect from your studies. She never told you that.

“And we kissed.”

What? What the hell?

Yuna says it like it's no big deal, still analyzing the sheet you handed her without interest. Now you're totally into the subject, you don't want to study anymore.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t tell me anything about your life.”

“That’s a lie. I told you things I’ve never told anyone.”

“Hey, you two. Be quiet.” The librarian snaps at you and you flinch, nodding.

Yuna comes closer and tries to speak more quietly.

“Well, I’ll only tell you if you tell me what’s going on between you two.”

Yuna shrugs, as if she’s not blackmailing you for information. You can’t believe her nerve. You have nothing interesting to say about this.

“There really isn’t anything going on between us.”

She looks at you with a “seriously?” face and you sigh for the infinite time.

“We just like to kiss each other, that’s it. Now tell me about Hobi.”

She gives up and then starts talking.

“So, we kissed the other day and...”

“You two. I’m going to ask you to find another place to study.”

And you feel so embarrassed about being kicked out of the library that you end the subject there. You really needed to memorize the content for the test.

At the beginning of your 18th birthday, things start to get a little out of control.

“We should stop doing this... “ you say, but your voice isn't confident at all. Not when he's kissing your neck like that.

“This what?”

And on top of that, Jimin plays dumb. He wants to see you admit what you're doing.

He continues to place delicate kisses along your neck and up to your ear. Your heart is already beating hard inside your chest with all the excitement he is causing you.

“This!”

You grab him by the shoulders and pull him away. You were sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with your notebooks spread out on the mattress. His gaze, his full lips, everything is too tempting for you and your eyes waver. He knows you want to continue.

“Why should we?” he asks, almost pouting.

His voice destroys you. You never imagined you would see him so full of lust. He does it on purpose because he knows how much it affects you.

“We're not focusing on our studies.“ and his eyes couldn't stop looking at his lips.

That wasn't exactly why you thought you should stop this, but it was still true.

It was your senior year of high school. You decided to come home with the excuse that you were going to study for the biology test that would be first thing in the morning tomorrow. And here you were, making out in your room instead of studying.

This whole situation was taking on proportions you hadn't imagined. You both didn't know exactly how it started, but before you knew it, you were already kissing. Neither of you wanted to think too much about it and how far it could go. You were afraid to think about the barriers you could cross if the emotion took over too much.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were always interrupted when things were getting too heated. And internally you thanked God, because the fear of making that decision was too much..

You two were almost always getting caught and it became a routine.

“I think we're studying biology very well.” he said in a naughty tone.

And there's that mischievous little smile of his that takes you apart. His hands are already on your waist without you realizing it, squeezing lightly and bringing you closer to him, inviting you to sit on his lap, but not doing so yet.

“Okay, 5 more minutes. But we need to focus, seriously!”

Jimin smiles triumphantly because he knows he won. He doesn't waste any more time, knowing that you really need to focus on your studies after this. He pushes his notebooks aside in a desperate way and it makes you laugh.

Jimin's thoughts are so clouded by lust that he can only think of one thing. So he leaves reason aside.

“Sit on my lap.”

“What?” you get a little nervous with his request, not knowing how to act.

“Come”

His hands push you around the waist and you follow the movement, sitting forward on his lap. His back is against the headboard while his hands caress your legs.

You try not to think too much about the position you're in. You're afraid you won't be able to control yourself when it comes to Jimin. He has a seductive way that only grows as the years go by.

Your lips meet again and your hands caress his soft hair. Everything about him is soft: his hair, his lips, his heart. And you are so addicted that you can't even think straight.

His tongue enters your mouth and you let out a soft sigh. Jimin chuckles as he kisses you, his hands moving from your legs to your hips and then grabbing your waist. He kisses you harder and pushes you down onto his lap. A surprised moan leaves your mouth because you can feel how turned on he is just from kissing you like this.

You're already aroused, too. In fact, you're pretty sure you're already soaking wet. Your parts are screaming for some friction, any movement that will ease that growing throb.

The caresses of his delicate fingers together with his increasingly skilled tongue in your mouth makes you lose self-control and start rubbing yourself on his lap.

You move just enough for that throbbing to stop bothering you. But his kiss is addictive and his hands caress you in such a light way that it makes you lose all the self-control you should have.

His hands holding your hips encourage you to continue rubbing yourself on his lap. Jimin sighs, also affected by the way you are grinding on top of him. He feels like he could explode with lust. Your flushed face, with your lips slightly parted, letting out sighs, is certainly the most erotic image he has ever seen in his life.

The way his hard erection rubs right against your most sensitive spot makes you close your eyes tightly. Slowly letting low moans escape your lips as you still kiss awkwardly.

“Do you like this?”

Jimin kisses your cheek, collarbone, behind your ear, your neck in several parts. He seems to be adoring you and at that moment it was all you needed the most.

“Oh-yes”

You grip his shoulders as you use more strength to shift on his lap. His legs bend to bring you closer, pressing you completely against him.

You can feel the pleasure growing in the pit of your stomach, but the insecurity of finishing in front of him starts to hit you harder. Your moans start to come out without your control and Jimin can sense it. He knows you're controlling yourself, by the way your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are furrowed.

He holds the back of your neck and kisses you. His other hand is on your hip pushing you down while his hips also work to pleasure you.

When you feel him pushing his hips against your core, you know you've already lost. Within seconds of this friction, you feel your orgasm building inside your belly. When you both push together once more, you feel the explosion of orgasm. Your moans can no longer be contained by his kisses. Your walls tighten around nothing and give you a feeling of satisfaction, but emptiness at the same time.

Your hands grip Jimin's shoulders tightly as you still rub yourself against his erection.

“Ah, Jimin…”

Jimin is in heaven listening to you softly moan his name over and over again. He swears he could have cum just from that if it weren't for the underwear and sweatpants squeezing him so tightly.

When you calm down, it still takes a few seconds for you to open your eyes and finally look at him.

You can't believe you just had an orgasm in front of Jimin. Something so intimate and so personal that you just shared it with him, your best friend.

"Did you finish?” Jimin asks, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You feel his other hand caressing your back, trying to relax you.

It takes you a long few seconds to gather the courage to say yes.

“I'm happy” Jimin kisses your cheek.

You don't get it.

“Why?”

“Because I made you feel good, right?”

You stay silent, staring at him and thinking how he can be so amazing.

At the same time your mind remembers that he is also horny and that he is probably dying because of it right now. You need to do something for him too. You want to do something for him.

“And you? How can I make you feel good?” your face automatically heats up.

“You don't have to do that” he gives a little smile. ”And we still need to finish studying” he looks around, at the mess that is the bedspread and at the study papers that fell on the floor.

“But I want to”

And you really do. But Jimin is hesitant and you can feel it. You just can't quite put your finger on why.

You don't realize it, but what Jimin has is insecurity. He's afraid of forcing you or that you're forcing yourself to do it for him. Maybe you can't even imagine him that way.

Just the idea that you might be forcing him to do this makes him lose his excitement.

When Jimin looks into your eyes again, you take him by surprise, kissing him. Both of your hands go to his face, caressing him as you kiss.

You pull away from him and let your foreheads touch.

“Show me how I can make you feel good too.”

Jimin sees sincerity in your eyes. So, he lets down his walls of insecurity and agrees to let you do it.

Something so simple and that any boy wouldn't hesitate to let a girl do. But he can't be like that. Jimin could never use someone just for his pleasure. He doesn't work that way.

“Okay…”

You sit a little further away, but still on top of his thighs. Just enough so that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Jimin guides your hand to the bulge between his legs and you touch it hesitantly. It's warm and hard and you gasp in surprise. Jimin doesn't miss a moment of your reactions.

You start to caress him over his pants, hesitant and embarrassed. You feel his eyes burning into you. Jimin analyzes your every move.

But you want more. You want to feel and see what it's like.

“Can I touch...?”

“You're touching.”

“Not like this.”

Jimin bites his lips.

You're going to drive him crazy like this.

Jimin takes your hand and puts it on the waistband of his pants. He doesn't stop to think about the situation, otherwise he would lose his courage. And deep down, you're also thinking the same thing.

You help him pull down his sweatpants and underwear, freeing his hard, hot member that rests against Jimin's belly.

You try not to look too surprised, but it's practically impossible. You swallow him with your eyes. This is the first time you've seen a dick in real life. 

“What?” Jimin asks, a little embarrassed.

A thousand thoughts run through his head. You didn't like it? Was it what you expected? Maybe you think he is small?

He shifts uncomfortably on the bed and you look at him and notice his discomfort. Finally you answer.

“Nothing, it's... it's just the first time I've seen a... uh…”

“Dick?”

You close your eyes for a second at the way he talks. So dirty and different.

“Yeah…”

You don’t know how to say this, but Jimin is incredible. The shape and size, the veins covering him, the pink, leaking tip. You didn’t know you could get this turned on. Your eyes are glued to him.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes.” You say promptly.

Jimin feels a weight lift off his shoulders when he hears you responding so enthusiastically.

“You can touch.” 

You bit your lip and reached out to touch him for the first time. You felt him in your hand, warm and hard. It was the first time you were touching him like this and also the first time you had touched anyone like this.

Your fingers closed around his cock and you tested how tight you could get. Jimin immediately closed his eyes and moaned. You glanced up at him, surprised by the sound he made.

Your heart started pounding in your chest and you felt that pulse return to your core. You could never imagine how sexy Jimin would look moaning like that and it definitely turned you on. You wanted to see more of this.

You start to move back and forth carefully, not sure if you should do it that way. You lick your lips and look at him. His eyes are glued to you, practically swallowing you.

“Here, squeeze like this.” He wraps his fingers together with yours and squeezes hard, showing you how much pressure you can apply.

Another moan escapes his lips, but this time Jimin continues to look directly at you.

“Now do it like this” he guides your hand up and down his cock, while he doesn't take his eyes off yours. ”Oh, that's it, just like that.” he moans with satisfaction when you take the rhythm by yourself.

You are fascinated by him. His moans encourage you to continue. Your hand quickly moves up and down his cock.

Jimin is lost in the vision he has of you giving him pleasure. He can't control his mind with the various dirty scenes he imagines the two of you doing.

Your eyes alternate between looking at his cock and watching his reactions. You want to lick it but you're afraid it'll be too much, so you settle for giving him pleasure with just your hand.

“I'm close…”

Jimin moans louder and you feel your parts contracting. It's so exciting to know that he's moaning like this because of you. You feel powerful and confident.

You squeeze him tighter in your hand and the noise is loud and sticky. His hand goes to your face and lifts your chin, caressing your jaw.

“You're so beautiful-oh”

You let out a soft moan because your wrist is starting to hurt, but you don't want to stop. Jimin looks like he's about to cum and you don't want to miss that scene.

Suddenly, you hear the front door creaking. You hear your mother calling your name from the living room, along with the sound of keys being dropped on the counter. Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you look at Jimin.

You quickly pull away.

Jimin stands up and pulls up his underwear along with his pants and tries to fix his hair, which is a mess.

Yours is also a mess and you try to tie it in a ponytail. As soon as you tie your hair, you pick up the notebooks that are thrown on the floor and try to fix the pages that fell.

Jimin sits at his computer desk with a notebook in his hand. He tries to adjust his erection that is painfully pressing inside his pants. He crosses his legs to try to hide it. Jimin runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it back and notices that his forehead is sweaty. He tries to wipe it off while you climb into bed and arrange your study materials.

Your mother knocks on the door at the same time and enters the room. She is surprised to see the two of you, but if she noticed anything, she didn't show it on her face.

“Ah, you're here. How dedicated. ” She says, smiling at the two of you.

“Good afternoon, ma'am.”

“Hi, mom. You're early today.” your voice comes out a little breathless and Jimin gives you a quick look, without your mother noticing.

“Oh yeah. I didn't have much work today so I ended up leaving early.” she explains and you agree. “What are you studying?”

Your mother's eyes scan your notebooks. You swallow.

“Biology”

It wasn't a lie.

But due to the events of a few minutes ago, this information suddenly seemed very funny.

Jimin does his best with his head down on his notebooks to keep from bursting out laughing. The last thing you need right now is to make a mistake in front of your mother.

“Oh, really?” your mother says. ”Next time, study in the living room okay? “ she looks at you two and winks.

Soon she leaves the door and leaves it leaning against it, you and Jimin with your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

You look at each other and start to laugh softly. You cover your mouth with your hand.

You feel so dirty but at the same time so alive. You can't understand it, you just feel a sense of happiness.

“Do you think she noticed?” Jimin asks

“Well, your hair is practically dripping.” you point out and he quickly starts running his hand through his hair. “I don't think she thinks it's that hard to study biology” you laugh a little

Jimin laughs as he finishes fixing his hair. Your hair isn't perfect either, but the ponytail disguised it a bit. What couldn't be disguised were your completely red cheeks, but that's just a detail.

“We didn't lie, at least.” Jimin says, shrugging.

You throw a pillow at him. He's so cheeky sometimes.

“Let's study for real now!”

You try to sound bossy but it doesn't come out as expected. But Jimin finds your mannerisms cute and agrees.

“Yes, ma'am!”

You really need to focus on something other than reflecting on the events from now. 

Things have flowed at such a natural and pressure-free pace that you don’t feel as guilty as you thought you would. And most of all, you trust Jimin, so things are kinda okay.

The thing that bothers you and stayed in your head even when you were already taking a shower to go to bed at night is: things are moving forward gradually and that would be fine, if you weren't best friends.

And your head starts spinning because all of this started under the pretext that you were practicing your first kiss, but look at it now.

You really try not to think about it too much, but as soon as you lay your head on the pillow, the only thing that goes through your mind is: aren't we going too far?

As soon as Jimin enters the classroom early in the morning, the teacher calls on him for a few seconds before starting the class.

“Jimin, I need to talk to you. Please stay at the end of the class” the academic planning teacher says and takes Jimin by surprise.

Jimin agrees and goes to sit in class right behind you. You didn't see him go talk to the teacher because you were talking to the guys and he didn't have time to tell you because class started right after.

He couldn't get it out of his head even during class. Jimin already knew more or less what the teacher was going to say, but he was still nervous. He knew that time was running out and he needed to make a decision about it soon.

At the end of class, you gather your things and wait for Jimin. Everyone has already left but Jimin is still taking a long time.

“Come on, Mimi!”

Jimin is slower than usual. And quieter than usual. You didn't know why. You wanted to ask him on the way home.

“I'm going to have to stay here.”

You don't understand.

“Why?” your face wrinkles in confusion.

Jimin lifts his face and looks at you, he has a serious expression on his face.

“I have a meeting with the academic planning teacher.’

Now you understand. That means it's time for him to decide which dance school he wants to go to, so he can send in his documents and apply. Your heart starts beating faster.

“Oh, that's good, right? Is it about the dance school you want to go to?”

“Yeah…”

You notice that there's something strange about him. Why isn't he happy about this?

“What's wrong with you?”

“It's nothing, I'm just nervous.”

You give him a small smile and move closer to him. It's a big decision, you understand why he's nervous.

“It’s okay, Mimi. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

You know you’re closer than you should be because you can smell his scent and the warmth of his body. But there’s no one around right now and you let yourself be. To be honest, you’re a little tired of pretending you’re not that close in front of others.

Jimin gives you a sad smile. And all he can see are your eyes shining with excitement for him.

If you only knew...

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me”

The room is empty and the school is starting to get quiet because everyone has already rushed out to leave.

Jimin comes closer to you and seals your lips for a few seconds. You are so surprised that you don't even have time to close your eyes.

“For luck”

And you blush.

“I'll go first then.”

Jimin agrees with you and you say goodbye.

"I really think you should apply to that dance school in Seoul, Jimin. It's your best chance, even if it's far away." 

Jimin considers the teacher's words, his hands sweating coldly in his lap. Jimin knows the teacher is right, but he doesn't know what to say to that. He hadn't anticipated this whole situation, this whole sudden change of scenery.

He couldn't imagine living in another city alone.

“I know it's a big step to live away from your parents, but you should consider this possibility if it's really your dream.”

Jimin just agrees with everything the teacher says, but he can't say much, even though he's thinking a thousand things at the same time.

"And with your grades and your talent, I'm sure you'll get in."

Jimin is happy, really. But some things hold him back, despite his happiness. And he feels conflicted about his feelings.

When he gets home that day, he knows he's already made up his mind. He just doesn't know how to tell you. And even though you said you'd go with him, he knows that wouldn't be a reality. Your parents are too strict about letting you go to college far from home.

Jimin decides to wait a little longer to tell you about it.

© heartforbangtan 2025. All rights reserved.

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Ocean Eyes

paring: Bob Floyd x female!bartender!reader

wordcount: 2642 (scandalously short for me, I know)

prompt: “It’s like you never really see me. I’m standing right in front of you and you don’t see me!” requested by @gretagerwigsmuse (I am sorry this took so long. I hope it was worth the wait)

note: I couldn't write so I started cleaning up my WIP folder and I found this. I forgot that it was practically done and so I thought, let's share my Bob debut with the world. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): none, I think. Unless you consider canon Hangster one. Also idiots in love.

|| Masterlist ||

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics

Reblogs, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome

!!!Minors do not interact; empty/ageless/minors will get blocked!!!

You love Bob Floyd. It’s pretty obvious to anyone who has eyes. At least that’s what you always hear from your best friend and yet he showed never any interest in you at all. There is a part of you that realises that this could only mean one thing but acknowledging the hard truth would hurt more than anything. So you ignore it and keep living in the blissful illusion that maybe one day Lieutenant Robert Floyd will wake up and finally see you.

That is until tonight when that hope should be shattered for good. The night at the Hard Deck when you are dealt the final blow.

“Is that Baby on Board in that booth? Flirting with a woman?”, Hangman is leaning against the bar waiting for you to get a fresh round of drinks ready. The question is directed at Rooster to his right and your gaze follows his and you see Bob sitting in a booth with an absolutely gorgeous redhead.

“Yeah. Phoenix set him up with her old college friend”, Rooster answers, giving you that kind of cautious look that he always sent your way whenever he thought you were in a fragile state and could implode any second. And as if to justify his worries you slam their beers down a little harder than intended and when your gaze meets his, all you see is pity in his pretty brown eyes.

“Rooster”, your voice is barely there, more a growl rumbling in your chest than anything else. It's a warning for your best friend to keep his fucking mouth shut and leave you be.

Not that it would help.

It's something you both love and hate about Bradley Bradshaw. He was not someone who gave up on people. No, he stayed even when shit got hard and you knew he'd be right there by your side through it all, holding your hand and keeping you close because that's just who he is.

And considering the look you get from his worse half, you know the same is true for him. The irony that fucking Jake Seresin would one day be one of your best friends was not lost on you. Especially considering how the two of you started off, but having Hangman cover your back was apparently a perk that came with being Rooster's best friend.

"Don't"

But Brad just lifts his hands in surrender and then they head over to the pool tables where the others are already waiting for them, leaving you behind the bar with the feeling that the shards of your shattered heart were just digging deeper into your flesh with every breath.

“Hey, sunshine”, your head snaps to the side and there you see him sitting at the end of the bar smiling at you the way he always did. The way that made your heart skip a beat and you hated that fucking traitor of an organ. And then your brain intercepts and reminds you of the images of last night. The way she had her hands all over him, turning him into a blushing mess as they stumbled out of the bar.

You have to shake your head or you'd lose focus and you cannot afford that. Not on a Saturday night.

It's not like you need to wait for him to order something, you know it all by heart, so you set his usual virgin drink in front of him and put some nuts in a bowl. Both containers are hitting the bartop a tad bit harder than necessary and before he could get another word in you were already gone.

Your behaviour took him off guard. His eyes are still following you when you already busied yourself with the order of another patron at the other end of the bar as if you wanted to get as much space between you and him as you physically could and he couldn't help the unsettling feeling that crept up on him.

This was so not you. There's a reason why they call you sunshine and that's not just because Rooster introduced you like that. You were always sweet and kind and won over the position of the patron’s favourite from Penny within the first week. You always had a lovely smile on your lips and a nice comment for everyone.

But the thing he had always liked most about you was how protective you were, looking out for the people around you. You were just the kind of person who truly cared and didn't just turn it into a performance.

The longer you are lingering on the other end of the bar without giving him even as much of a glace the more uneasy he becomes ultimately deciding to pick up his things and make his way over to the quiet corner by the pool tables that had been dubbed his even back during his Top Gun time. And from over there he has the perfect view of the bar without the hustle and bustle that would only distract from his actual mission. Figure out what was wrong with you.

You seemed tense and your interactions were colder than usual even with people that he knew you loved to bits.

Dave, one of the veterans who frequented the bar had made it a habit to propose to you whenever he saw you. It was a running gag between the two of you but even he couldn't bring an honest smile to your face.

That sure as hell was a first.

Maybe something happened?

Had someone hurt you?

Or did something happen with your family?

The best way to find out was to talk to Rooster.

He was your best friend after all and if someone knew what was going on, then it would be him.

So, Bob waited patiently until he took a break from the pool game before approaching him.

“Is something wrong with sunshine?”

Rooster arches his brow at the question, stops drinking mid-swig and puts his bottle back down.

“What should be wrong with her?”

Bob tilts his head while he studies the other's features.

He couldn't be serious about that question. Rooster always claimed to know you best of them all and he honest-to-goodness wanted to tell Bob he didn't see what was going on.

“She’s curt and tense. She didn’t even smile at Dave's proposal”

Rooster’s brow arched even more.

God for someone as observant as Robert fucking Floyd he was pretty goddamn blind when it came to you.

“Even if there was something it wouldn't be my story to tell”, he raises his bottle back up and takes a sip of his beer, watching Bob’s mind running  100 miles an hour while he tried to figure out how to proceed.

“If you wanna know what’s going on there is a simple solution”, he prompts him. He had sworn to keep his mouth shut about your feelings for Bob but helping him figure it out on his own was not breaking that promise.

At least not in his book.

“And that would be?”

“Fucking ask her, Baby on board”

Jake groaned over from the pool table and rolled his eyes.

He was so done with this kindergarten bullshit. Watching you and Bob was worse than his dance with Rooster pre-uranium mission and he knew they had been unbearable to watch.

His boyfriend shoots Hangman an angry look as if to remind him of their promise but he just rolls his eyes and sighs.

Hangman likes you, a lot. Some might even go so far as to say he loves you. Very much platonic but it's love nonetheless.

You were a major part of Rooster’s life and therefore you became a fixture in his and if he had to listen to you crying yourself to sleep one more goddamn night over fucking Baby on Board then he’d be the one going on a bloody rampage.

So Jake stalked over to Bob and stared him right in his blue eyes, his green gaze cutting like a knife.

“That wasn’t a suggestion Floyd”, he growled, nodding over to where you handed out drinks at the bar, doing everything within your power to not look their way.

Bob had no idea why the other ganged up on him like that but he couldn’t remember the last time Hangman had been this mad. With his gaze flittering between the two men and you at the bar he decided it was indeed probably smartest to talk to you as soon as possible.

“Can you please get a box of whiskey from storage?”, you barely hear Penny’s voice over the constant chatter of the bar and the music coming from the jukebox when she hands you the key.

You had tried to keep your brain busy all night and lucky for you, the Saturday had provided you with enough to do to grant yourself a small reprieve from the pain that had settled in what was left of your heart after last night.

You nod at Penny and weave through the crowd in front of the bar, attempting to smile at the patrons that greeted you but you knew that this was just a facade and considering the many concerned looks, they knew too.

When you finally got to unlock the door of the storage closet stepping inside and pulling the door closed behind you as you were heaving a sigh the muffled sounds of the bar were still echoing in your ear. You loved this place and the Hard Deck had always felt more like home than the house you shared with Rooster and Hangman. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. The air was stuffy and full of dust but it was the closest to a break you could get just about now.

That was until the sudden creaking of the door made your heart rate pick up.

"This is for staff only", your eyes are wandering around to find something to use as a makeshift weapon just in case one of the guys got so drunk he forgot his manners and basic human decency. You find a large vodka bottle, pick it up from the shelf as you turn around, almost dropping it when you are met with blue eyes.

"Fuck Bob, you scared me", you place your free hand over your heart, putting the Vodka bottle on a small table.

"I'm sorry, sunshine", your eyes wander over him and it's only then that you see how he's not really daring to look into your eyes and he's fidgeting with his hands.

"What are you doing back here Bob?", you are crossing your arms over your chest and take another step back from him, almost making you hit the shelves full of liquor behind you.

He had never seen you so distanced and borderline standoffish around any of the daggers. You were someone who needed to be close, someone who thrived on touch and physical forms of affection, but you were fleeing from him and he couldn't have imagined something as simple as a step back to hurt that bad.

"I... I was wondering...", he started and then you were the third person today looking at him with an arched eyebrow and he felt like a first grader who's supposed to take his SAT.

"What were you wondering?", you said, the tense edge still audible in your voice sent a shiver down his spine.

Bob had never met this cold version of you and he hated every second of it. He loved your warmth, the way you were lighting up even the darkest room. You were the embodiment of a sweet summer day, full of sunshine and blooming flowers with enough of a breeze to make it perfect but right now you rivalled the worst arctic winter.

"Why are you so cold with everyone?"

"I am not"

"Of course you are. You didn't even smile at Dave's proposal", he sees the way your eyes get wider for only a moment before you put that facade back in place. So the real you was hiding somewhere behind that mask you put on.

"Yes I did"

"No, you didn't. Not for real"

The fact he had actually noticed took you by surprise, but the dull ache in your chest reminded you that just because he happened to notice one thing today it didn't mean that anything changed.

The silence hanging between the two of you was deafening and the longer it lasted the more nervous Bob got.

You two had never had an issue with talking. You were probably the one person he always felt like he could talk to even if he didn't feel like interacting with anyone else. But now it felt like you were two ships in the night, drifting farther and farther away apart.

"Please. I just want to...", his voice sounds pleading and the way he reaches his hand out for you prompts you to take another step back. You cannot handle his touch, that much you know but in your desperate attempt to keep the tears from running down your cheeks you forget that you have a mouth too.

“It’s like you never really see me", the words are spilling from your lips before you even realise it, hands flying to your mouth to stop yourself. The tears that were pricking at your lashline before began to run down your cheek when you see the way his eyes widen mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally finds his voice again.

"There hasn't been a single day when I didn't"

You force your eyes shut to stop the tears from running, shaking your head as you hear him take step after step closer into your space and crowd you against the shelves.

"I don't think I couldn't"

"Then why does it feel like I’m standing right in front of you. and you don’t see me?”, your voice is small and quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled sounds from the bar but once they sink in, Bob's eyes are darting all over your face, trying to figure out what you truly meant.

You open your eyes, tears still glittering as you look up at him. He sees so many emotions swirl in them ranging from pain and fear to something softer. Something he never dared to dream of finding in your eyes when you looked at him. And then he caught your eyes wandering from his to his lips and back up.

It was not much more than a flicker, something easily missed if he had blinked at the wrong moment.

"I always see you, sunshine", his voice is soft as he takes another step closer and leans down, slow and cautious as if he's trying to gauge if he had gotten what you implied right, but you stayed frozen in your place, closing your eyes again until you feel his nose brushing against yours and your foreheads touching.

"And what about last night?", you feel like you are caught up in a dream, fearing the moment your alarm would go off and you'd have to get up and back to a reality where Bob dated someone else and you were damned to only stand there and watch.

"Jolene is nice but all she's ever seen is the uniform and the glasses. She never bothered to really look at me. She didn't see me", he lifts his hands and rests them on your cheeks, thumbs gently caressing your skin as his eyes search yours for any sign that you do not want this.

"Not the way you did when we first met", you feel like you are getting lost in the endless blue of his ocean eyes, warm breath fanning over your face as you lean in to kiss him.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always

If you want to read more you can find my masterlist here