#a tough pill to swallow i know

[shopwitchvamp]

Skaters and Minis are "only" $50, so there is that at least! :D For real tho, unfortunately if they weren't priced how they're priced I'd have long since run out of money and they just wouldn't exist at all anymore. They're small batch, custom printed, made to my requested measurements to fix XXS-6X which isn't something you can find easily. Maybe someday I'll have expanded to a point that I can have a budget option but that'll (most likely) mean needing to operate at a much MUCH higher volume than I do right now.

“Omg, I love these! They go up to size 6X AND they have pockets?! Wow!! But do you have anything longer?”

Sure do, no problem!!

“YES these are great!!! But what about.. longer?”

I gotcha!! Comin’ right up!

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about! But… how about if I’m feeling like it’s the kinda day where I need my clothing to be bifurcated???”

Never fear, joggers are here!

"Finally! Pants that are just as fun as skirts! They're so cool!" /scene

🖤witchvamp.com🖤 (ᵖˢ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʲᵘˡʸ ᵖʳᵉᵒʳᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ)

[leedee013]

Something that weirdly pisses me off but like

Andrew Minyard shouldn't be an undercover book nerd or something. This fandom is so obsessed with forcing Andrew into a specific vision of him that they WANT to see that they miss out on a lot of potential regarding the content that's actually given to us.

Andrew Minyard has an eidetic memory and has most likely watched way too many movies or TV over the course of his life.

Anyone who claims that he's too poetic/fanciful with words to not be into literature is simply ignoring the fact that there are stunning movie/film scripts out there that are worthy of being held on an equal pedestal as literature. And I'm saying this AS AN ENGLISH MAJOR. I literally majored in reading books. But shoving bookish Andrew into fanon is something I simply will never stand behind.

I have an entire slew of headcanons about why Andrew actually does hate the act of reading if anyone ever wants to hear them too

[shiraishi--kanade]

"Nobody is using Curly's disability as a narrative punishment for inaction!" bro. The game does

[minijenn]

Aight but look kids. I know you’re all excited about the potential UF reboot but I NEED you all to understand something very important. The way I wrote and engaged with UF… it can’t be like it was before. When I used to write UF, I strived way too hard to please everyone else to the point that I often found myself dissatisfied with what I was writing. It got to the point that I got burnt out with the fic because I wasn’t writing it for, well, myself, and because of that it became something of a chore.

With new UF, I plan on fixing that. I’m writing this fic solely for me this time around, making what I want it to be, which may not be what you want it to be. I’m going to take lengthy breaks when I feel like it, I’m not beholding myself to a stressful tight posting schedule, I’m going to be self indulgent and focus on the characters I want to focus on. I’m going to have fun this time around.

And if I end up writing something you don’t necessarily like, well, sorry about that, I can’t please everyone. I can only please myself. And hopefully this time, I will.

[hotcat37]

Fictionalized version of Mikke in deaf! Jere AU I love you forever and you're not bad at all only good

[tonydaddingham]

do you think current crowley wishes he could go back to the angel he was and tell him that his nebula, his stars, will be safe, that he himself will directly help to save them, and not only the stars but also the earth and humans that that sparky other angel likes so much. reassure him that his efforts won't be for nothing, he doesn't need to ask questions!!! he doesn't need to challenge anything, because it'll all be okay and he can trust that everything will work out fine

but then also stop. calculate, and understand that in order for everything to be okay... crowley has to ask questions, has to go through what he did, the pain and rage and abandonment and silence that comes with it, it's inevitable - because if he doesn't fall, doesn't become the demon he is now, everything that follows will never have happened, he'll never experience humanity, never get to buy the bentley, or feed the ducks, or grow his plants, or save the world, or fall in love??? and actually consider if the fall was worth every bit of pain and rage and abandonment and silence... if, in exchange, he gets all that????

[sparkspropaganda]

I like those kinds of polls because it gives me a sense of where parts of the userbase are at in terms of wanting drugs/sex/alcohol but all the people going "WAIT why is no one drinking and having sex and going to clubs?? Thats so embarassing" r like so wild. Never grew out of the middle school mentality of thinking these are true markers of adulthood

[screampied]

“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”

the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.

it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.

“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.

he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.

regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.

nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”

your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.

you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.

his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.

“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”

he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.

nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.

“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”

his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.

you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.

“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”

“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.

you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.

you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.

you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.

he was fine.

you were fine,

everything was fine.

. . is what you kept telling yourself.

nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.

he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”

but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.

[ordinary-barbie]

victory lap.

football player!rafe x fem!reader

summary: Your boyfriend Rafe has just won the biggest football game of his career, and he knows exactly how he wants to celebrate.

tags: fem!reader, cursing, unprotected p in v sex (though reader mentions being on the pill), oral (both receiving), fingering, consent checks, doggy style, creampie, praise kink, usage of “good girl,” cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names ("baby," "princess"), slightly possessive rafe

word count: 1.7k

18+ only - minors do not interact!!!

note: I'm an Eagles fan so this is absolutely self-indulgent. Go Birds!!!

Tonight felt like an absolute dream.

You'd been with Rafe for nearly six years, since your freshman year of college. Through that time, you witnessed many highs and lows of your boyfriend's football career, celebrating after the big wins and comforting him through tough losses. And tonight, all that hard work had culminated in the ultimate prize: a Super Bowl win.

The Eagles' win had been oh-so-satisfying for you after the heartbreaking loss to the Chiefs two years ago, but the fact that the love of your life played a part in it made it even sweeter. As the confetti sprinkled down, covering the field in a sea of midnight green, silver, and black, you and Rafe found your way to each other, embracing like you hadn't seen each other in weeks. During the game, you'd been a bundle of nerves, only truly relaxing during Kendrick's halftime performance, but now you finally felt like you could breathe easy.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," you said, your eyes welling up with happy tears. You grabbed Rafe's face and kissed him deeply; he returned the kiss with equal fervor and let his hands slide to your ass. Normally you wouldn't be down for such blatant PDA, but it was a special occasion.

The night passed in a blur, filled with photo ops and plenty of revelry. The streets of New Orleans buzzed with energy, and you lived for it. You celebrated with and embraced your fellow WAGs, who'd become your family over the past two years. Rafe was in his element, popping bottles of champagne and laughing with his fellow players, and it made your heart swell with pride.

You were still feeling post-game euphoria, but part of you was ready to return to your hotel and wind down. You clung to Rafe, putting your head in his lap, and he flashed you a fond grin, stroking your hair.

"You ready to head out, baby?" Rafe murmured in your ear, and you hummed in response.

The two of you said your goodbyes and caught a ride back to the Hilton. You loved getting all dolled up for gameday, but the thought of showering and changing into some comfy pajamas was very appealing.

Once you and Rafe arrived back in your room, you stripped down to your bra and panties, preparing for a nice, long, hot shower. Rafe’s eyes hungrily raked up and down your body, and it gave you a thrill that even after all these years, he was still obsessed with your body.

"You gonna join me in the shower, Rafey, or just stand there?" you teased him, your grin a mile wide.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes darkening. "Would love to. But there's something I wanna do first, baby. I want to celebrate my win with you—properly."

A shiver of pleasure ran through your body. "Tell me you want this too, baby," Rafe said, gazing intently at you.

You bit your lip, looking at Rafe with a burning desire. "Yes, Rafey. Want this so bad."

Before you could even blink, Rafe's lips were on yours, kissing you with a passion only reserved for moments like these. Soon, though, he began to roam, nipping and kissing at your jaw, your neck, that special space behind your ear that drove you wild.

Rafe expertly unhooked your bra with one hand, flinging it to another corner of the room, before picking you up and tossing you onto the bed. He sank to his knees, slowly pulling down your panties and letting out a pleasured moan at the gossamer strands of slick that clung to the fabric.

"Fucking pretty," he marveled, before hungrily diving into your wet cunt. Rafe loved playing football—he lived for the game—but his second favorite pastime was eating pussy, without a doubt. You writhed in pleasure as Rafe's tongue glided along your folds, pumping in and out of your opening before finally giving your clit some much-needed attention.

"Rafe—oh fuck—that feels so good," you whimpered as Rafe languidly sucked at your clit.

You felt a low heat in your belly as you reached your peak. Your hands flew to Rafe's hair, gently tugging at it as he took the hint and buried his face even closer into your pussy.

Your vision went white for a second as you cummed, coating Rafe's face with your slick. "Holy shit, baby," Rafe murmured, bending down to kiss you and give you a taste of the essence on his lips. "You taste so fuckin' good."

You noticed the massive tent Rafe was sporting in his pants and moaned, rubbing your legs together. “Let me take care of you, baby,” you purred. “The champ deserves his prize, after all.”

Rafe grinned lazily, quickly pulling off his pants and boxers before lying back on the bed. You knelt before him, salivating at his dick, its pink mushroom tip already wet with precum. You went to work cleaning his tip, causing your boyfriend to lose his composure.

"Shit, baby, you're so good with your mouth," Rafe said, letting out a moan as you licked up and down his shaft.

You lowered your head, taking Rafe's length into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, mouthing and licking at his cock while you fondled his balls with both hands.

"Ah, fuck, just like that, baby," Rafe groaned. "Good girl."

Those two words were like a lightning bolt to your core, spurring you to speed up your actions. Rafe grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Baby—shit—I'm gonna cum." Rafe let out a particularly feral grunt before spilling down your throat, watching as you dutifully swallowed every drop.

Rafe paused, lost in a post-nut daze, before lifting you and laying you back on the bed. He took his sweet time kissing every square inch of your body, making sure to give your tits extra attention. Rafe kissed and sucked at your nipples, eliciting more whines from you as you gripped the bedsheets.

"Rafey, you're such a tease," you wailed, bucking your hips as Rafe lavished your thighs with kisses.

Rafe smirked devilishly at you. "Impatient, are we? My pretty girl that desperate f'me to fuck her stupid? Don't worry—I'll give you what you need, yeah?"

Rafe beckoned you to join him back on the bed, effortlessly turning you around so you were lying on your stomach. You stuck your ass up in the air, feeling a giddy anticipation in your gut.

Rafe slowly pushed himself into you, both of you moaning at the sensation. You said a silent word of thanks to whoever invented birth control as Rafe gripped your hips, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy.

"Goddamn, this pussy...so tight, hot, and wet for me," Rafe growled, snapping his hips as he buried himself deep inside you.

You felt dizzy, your thoughts filled with nothing except the immense pleasure Rafe was giving you. "Oh Rafey—fuck, right there," you sighed, groaning as his cock hit your g-spot.

"Can't wait to fill up this pretty pussy," Rafe muttered, deliciously stretching your walls with his length. "Yeah? You want my cum baby?" Your cunt clamped down on Rafe's dick in response, causing his eyes to roll back.

"Squeezing me so good, baby," he praised.

Just as you were in the throes of passion, Rafe...stopped, slowly pulling out of you. You pouted, already missing your boyfriend's touch.

"'m sorry, baby," Rafe said, kissing your forehead. "Just wait a sec, I got an idea."

Rafe got off the bed and rifled through your suitcase before finding a kelly green jersey with "Cameron" and his number on the back. "Y'know...I always had this fantasy of fuckin' my girl with my jersey on," he said, flashing the dirtiest grin. "Will you indulge me for the night, princess?"

You sat up, eyeing your boyfriend flirtatiously. "Hell yeah, that sounds really hot."

Rafe returned to the bed, sitting you on his lap and watching you pull the jersey over your head. Then he quickly bent you over the mattress, stuffing you with his cock again. He pistoned his hips, admiring his name on your back and the fact that you were wearing his jersey—and nothing else.

"You look so damn sexy with my name on you," Rafe drawled. "Shows that you're fuckin' mine, baby."

You cried out, feeling your legs start to shake. "Ah, yes, Rafe—'m all yours."

"Are you close, baby?" Rafe asked. When you nodded, he slid a hand down between your legs and rubbed circles on your clit. "C'mon baby. Make a mess all over my cock."

Your insides felt like a shaken-up soda bottle that was about to explode. You let out a yelp as your pussy spasmed, creaming all over Rafe's cock.

"I'm close, baby," Rafe warned, burying his head in the side of your neck. Rafe's hips stuttered as he released his load, and you sighed happily at the sensation of his warm, sticky cum filling you up.

Rafe slowly pulled out of you, licking his lips at the sight of his spunk dribbling out of you. He pulled you close to him, nuzzling your neck. "Baby—I think that was some of the best sex we've ever had."

You giggled. "You just won a freakin' Super Bowl, Rafe. You deserve nothing but the best."

Rafe looked at you fondly. "This is gonna sound so fuckin' corny but with you, I already feel like I've won. I'm the luckiest man on the damn planet."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "That was corny as fuck—but I liked it."

"And I like you," Rafe easily replied, peppering your cheeks with kisses.

You giggled. "I'll like you even more once we're both cleaned, though."

Rafe chuckled. "One shower, coming up, princess." He whisked you away to the bathroom, where y'all actually showered—you were both too spent to engage in more funny business.

Once the two of you were fully clean and in your coziest pjs (and had done your best to clean up the sheets), you and Rafe snuggled together in bed. You gazed lovingly at Rafe as you stroked his hair.

"Whatcha staring at, pretty girl?" Rafe asked, an amused glint in his eye.

"Just thinking about my boyfriend. He's really handsome and funny and he just won a Super Bowl," you playfully replied.

"Wow, he sounds like a real catch," Rafe remarked, stroking your hip.

"Yeah, he's pretty great. I'm lucky to have him," you said, gently kissing Rafe's lips.

Today had been one hell of a day. But as thrilling as the big game and all the festivities were, you had the best time right here, in Rafe's arms.

[herefortayloronly]

Hope this helps 💜

all these current things happening in the swiftverse make me believe even more in the thought i have that taylor does not want unsolicited advice from fans in how to proceed in her personal life (something i think she’s been trying to put across for quite a while actually) but she is happy to take their wishes into account in her professional life because what she is offering us is her work about her life, not her life itself. this doesn’t mean that fans aren’t allowed to be upset at the decisions she makes but she isn’t going to take that opinion and necessarily change things - maybe that opinion and/or hurt will make her contemplate stuff and change the way she thinks but maybe not.

i think this is hard for fans to come to terms with because we know her as a person (at least i believe we do), and we think she is doing stuff to specifically antagonize us when in reality she would do it anyway. this bleeds so much into the way we think that every time she drops a new thing that you can buy, the first thought is that she didn’t think of your personal buying position and is forcing you to support her when in reality you could very easily just not buy said thing. this is not a one-on-one comparison to her current relationship but im just trying to drive a point. she isn’t accountable for the remarks her bf made months/year(s) ago and maybe that means she just doesn’t give a fuck (i know some people have come to that conclusion) but the point is that she doesn’t care. she is maybe at peace with her decisions or maybe she isn’t, and maybe she is good with the good she is doing and what she is doing to help others and be generous or maybe she isn’t, but she wants the grace of no one outside her real life to tell her what to do. she wants to have agency, full agency, even if that means making decisions she may regret later.

[thelivingdiary]

Put things into perspective for Neurotypical‘s

Walking up to a autistic mom and saying " I am so sorry, it must've been so hard raising an autistic child" and agreeing to it in front of their child is exact same thing as some random ass stranger walking up to your mother and saying " I feel so sorry for you, it must been so hard, raising that hell spawn/demon of a child" and then your own MOTHER agreeing with them and saying they wish you were never born and should have died inside the womb and never had to raise a demon like you. All the the while them CLEARLY KNOWING that you're right behind them. Is THAT an example you want to set for a child?

No? Just me?

[nathaslosthershit]

Lie Detector (Teen Dad!OP81 AU)

(Part of the Teen Dad!Oscar AU) Summary: Oscar does a lie detector test and Lando learns some tough pills to swallow.

“So, our first media video for McLaren since the big news came out, right Oscar?” Lando said.

“Yep.” Oscar weakly responded. When McLaren asked him to do the lie detector test again, hoping to poke fun at the recent events, he was weary. He knew his team wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or his family, and it would probably be great from a PR perspective, but he was already tired of constantly answering questions. 

“Or should I call you Daddy Osc now?”

“Please never call me that.”

“So, we are doing a lie detector to try and expose all secrets the two of us may be hiding, like an entire family for example.” Lando, of course, knew about Oscar’s kids before he was exposed, but he still loved the opportunity to poke fun at him for it, even if he totally understood why Oscar did what he did.

“This time, we are using a heavy duty lie detector, with actual wires and someone to tell whether we are for sure telling the truth, instead of a toy that shocks us at random.” Oscar continued, ignoring Lando’s comment.

The words ‘Oscar tells the truth’ flashed on the screen till a wired up Oscar appeared behind the desk.

“Okay Oscar, starting off easy. Is your name Oscar Jack Piastri?” Lando was giddy as he asked, really excited to get information out of his teammate.

“Yes.” was all he responded. Truth.

“Are you originally from Australia?”

“Yep.” Truth. This was easier than he had thought, but looking in Lando’s eyes, he could see the glint of mischievousness in them.

“Are you a daddy?” 

“I am a father, yes. I don’t like the look in your eyes when you call me that.” Truth.

“Do you have any other kids you are hiding?”

“No more than the two.” Truth.

“Am I their favorite uncle?” Lando knew he had it in the bag. The Piastri twins loved him and how much he spoiled them. Their parents? Not so much. Oscar’s fiancee had time and time again argued with the amount of toys Lando would get them at random.

He did begin to sweat a little as Oscar took a little longer to answer the question. He didn’t know how to break the news to him. 

“...Yes.” Lie.

“What! Oscar? You said I was their favorite!” 

“Lando, Logan has been in their life since they were born. He established himself as the cool uncle. When I let him babysit, I always return home to them eating way too much ice cream. To be fair, I think he has trained them like Pavlov’s dogs to associate him with treats so now they get way too excited and jumpy when they see him.” Oscar explained.

“This is stupid anyway I don’t care.” Lando mumbled, caring very much that he wasn’t the favorite. “Moving on, I don’t have any more questions so I guess it is my turn.”

After the video had been filmed, Oscar and Lando walked back over to the meeting room that the Piastri twins and their mother had been given to hang out in while they filmed. On the walk over, Lando interrogated his teammate even more.

“I cannot believe that I am not the cool uncle! I have never not been the cool uncle. Mila thinks I am cool, how do your kids not?”

“Lando, they are three, it is nothing personal. They love the toys you get them and they are always asking for you when they come to the factory. Logan just has seniority over you and has been the cool uncle forever, it is hard to dethrone him after a year.” Oscar said this hoping that it would stop Lando from spoiling them tenfold. 

If anything it just made him even more motivated to overthrow Logan.

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri and 472,264 others

landonorris logansargeant I will become the cool uncle

oscarpiastri lando please. No more toys we don't have the room

logansargeant In your dreams old man.

[nickmarini]

Hey! First of all, I just wanna say that I absolutely adored your performance as Ayden/The Dawnfather during Downfall. He’s always been one of my favourite deities in the Exandrian Pantheon and your take on him was incredible to watch.

I especially loved how complicated he was in that he felt wise but naive, loving but stern, and genuine but also confused. It was all really fascinating and I’ve loved digging into it, as well as everything else about these characters, relationships, and this arc overall.

Given all of that, I wanted to ask how much, if any, of Matt’s performances as the NPC version of Pelor or just any campaign information or interactions regarding him influenced how you approached your characterisation of him over the course of downfall (as Ayden, and as the fully realised Dawnfather, and whatever in-between there was)?

I think the Pelor that we have seen so far throughout the campaigns is quite a contrast to what we see in Downfall, but I can also so clearly believe that they are the same being, just in different circumstances, so I was also wondering how you view the “present day” Pelor in regards to what he experienced/did in Downfall?

Thanks so much, so kind of you. I absolutely watched as much as I could of the Dawnfather's appearances in CR. There is a lot to look at and certainly a lot presented about him. Downfall is our first real glimpse of him on Exandria (I think Calamity appearance is open to interpretation as The Lord of the Nine Hells is influencing the vision) I wanted to show a different side of the Dawnfather but also his journey to something more familiar. We mostly know him on the other side of the Divine Gate. I think that distance is a hard one to breach for a god used to showing up consistently each and every day. He is a doer and a protector, his domains are hands on, and to be forced to leave the world he tended is a tough pill to swallow.

One of my favorite quotes is, "Don't let your shield become a cage." This was sort of a guiding light to me for the Dawnfather and something I think he struggles with. It's part of why I wanted Ayden to have a shield and part of why I think its so hard for him to leave Exandria. He has to reconcile his desire to defend Exandria with the consequences of his presence on it, I think part of his perceived distance as the "present day" Dawnfather stems from the pain of this decision and his certainty that something must be done, alongside the painful truth that he can no longer be the one to do it.

[novemberheart]

{Overview} Your pack is gone again. You have to go through an emergency alone

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141 x reader, a/b/o dynamics, chapter story, panic attacks, trouble breathing, some emotional angst, a cute golden retriever

Chapter 34 <- Chapter 35 -> Chapter 36

The leaves were starting to change. The hot dry weather you so hated was beginning to shift as well.

“You play this song too much,” Anais whined, reaching for the phone in your hand. You made no move to stop her, rolling your eyes playfully. It was nearly your stop anyways. A gust of air left the bus as it screeched to a halt, you and Anais shooting up out of your seats. Anais took the earbud out of her ear, passing it back to you. You and Anais worked your way down the street, dodging puddles and people with low self awareness. Jane opened the door for the two of you. “Could’ve texted us you were already here. We waited outside your door for ten minutes,” Anais chided, shedding off her scarf and coat. You followed suit.

“Was like three minutes Anais,” you chuckled, patting Jane on the arm. Jane remained silent, a small quirk in her lips as she disappeared into the back again.

“You heard anything from your pack?” Jane called.

“No,” you sighed, flicking the oven dial on. Your pack had been gone for three weeks. You haven't heard from them since they left. It was the longest you’ve gone without speaking to them. You ran your knuckles over the two marks engraved against your skin, your heart thrumming painfully in your chest. “They’re fine though,” you insisted.

“Course they are,” Jane and Anais said in unison.

“I’m going to get started on the frosting,” Anais spoke. “How about you start planning next week's menu. You’re much more creative than we are,” Anais added. Jane nodded her head in agreement.

Ten minutes before the bakery opened a line started to form. You were thankful you had a busy job to keep your mind off of your pack. Yet it wasn’t completely unavoidable. The smell of cinnamon reminded you of Johnny. The leather chairs reminded you of Simon. Anytime someone came in with a hat on it reminded you of Kyle. The sound of coffee brewing reminded you of John.

The work day was nearly over before you knew it.

“I’ll run and get us some sandwiches from down the street,” Anais offered.

“I’ll go with you. You always forget I hate pickles,” Jane huffed. They turned to look, and you offered them a small smile.

“I’ll finish cleaning up. You two go ahead,” you assured with a wave of your hand.

“If you’re sure,”

“Stay out of trouble please,” Anais nearly begged, making you giggle. Your smile dropped as soon as they left, the numbness returning to your body. Your fingers ran over the marks on your neck again. It had become a habit now. It made you feel something. A reminder that you weren't alone. You belonged to a pack. Even if that pack was halfway across the globe. You couldn't say that with complete confidence. For all you knew they were a few cities over on a mission. That would be a tough pill to swallow. Them being so close yet so far.

You huffed as a familiar fever resettled over your skin. That had also become a habit. You dug in your bag for a bottle of fever reducers. You used to hate pills. Now they are the only thing keeping you feeling semi-normal.

“Fever again?” You jumped at the voice behind you. “Sorry,” he apologized, holding his hand up defensively.

“It’s alright Mr. Avery,” you chuckled. He gave you a slightly worried smile, the back of his hand resting against your forehead.

“My daughter gets fevers when she's upset too,” he sighed. “They can be tiring. If you need extra breaks let me know,” he pressed. Your eyes welled up and before you could stop yourself you wrapped your arms around his soft middle.

“I just miss my pack,” you whined. His hand rested on your back, rubbing soothing circles against your sweater.

“I know, hon,” he sighed sadly. “Can only imagine how much they miss you too,” he added. They better miss you. It wouldn't be fair if you were the only one walking around with a hole in your heart. Mr. Avery rubbed your back til the tears died down, projecting the warm scent of alpha that you so dearly missed. You were lucky he was so understanding.

“Thank you,” you sniffled, working up the courage to pull away. “You should get an award for being the best boss,” you tried to chuckle. His lips quirked.

“As long as you and the girls think I am- that's all I need,” he smiled. ”Lets get some food in you and I’ll drive you girls back to base,” he recommended, already guiding you to one of the plush chairs.

Maybe the smell of leather would do you some good.

Something wasn't right.

Your fever had yet to die down, instead, it spread throughout your whole body. You felt sick, half of your body clinging to the toilet yet nothing could come up. Your vision was spotty, your limbs heavy.

The only thing you could think of was the distance between you and your alphas. That had to be it right? You were going through withdrawals. You trudged your way to Simon's closet, grabbing one of the last items of clothing and holding it to your nose.

It didn't help.

Nothing did.

No amount of scent from your pack was easing the sickness. It was close to early morning now and your eyes had yet to close for more than a second.

You had to get help.

You threw on some scent blockers to cover the smell of sour lemons. You had to be fast. You couldn't be caught wandering around base while it was so dark. You were in no condition to fight back either.

You grabbed Vernie’s leash, attaching it to her collar. You didn't- couldn't go alone. The two of you stayed close to the buildings- for cover and support.

The medical center felt further away than it ever had. Every step felt like a race against the clock. You thought back to your nightmare about Kyle. The feeling of walking yet going nowhere. You had half a mind to scream in frustration.

The lights were blinding, making your already fragile head spin on its axis.

“I need an omega specialist,” you panted. The cold counter felt good against your heated hands. Vernie wormed herself in your grasp, her chilled nose pressing against your cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

“I can take you sweetheart,” a soft woman wearing pink scrubs quickly held your arm. Her chocolate eyes scanned up and down nervously, her eyes connected with the receptionist. They spoke to each other without uttering a word. The receptionist quickly getting on the phone. “How long have you been sick, baby?” the nurse asked, leading you down the hall.

“Since my pack left,” you wheezed. Tears were already rolling down your cheek. “It’s really bad tonight,” you explained, using your fists to wipe away the tears Vernie didn't lick away.

“I can tell, baby. I can tell,” she soothed. She led you to a small room, guiding you to an examining chair. “How about I stay with you till the doctor gets here?”

“Please,” you begged.

“How long has your pack been away?” she questioned, pressing a cold towel against your forehead. It just reminded you of Simon, your sobs increasing in volume and intensity.

“I want my pack,” you sobbed, gasping for a breath. You couldn't breathe. No matter how hard you tried it was like the air couldn't reach your lungs.

“Easy,” she tried to soothe. It didn't work. You didn't know her. You needed your pack.

“I want my pack,” you repeated. It was barely a whisper, your words getting caught on a gasp.

You couldn't breathe.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart. Your pack wouldn't want anything to happen to you would they?” she continued, her hands resting on your shoulders.

If they didn't want anything to happen to you they would be back by now. They would've called. They would've had Laswell reach out to you. Something. Anything.

Maybe if you passed out that would get their attention. They would have to notify your alphas right? Just the thought made it easier to breathe- unfortunately. It would've been easier to sleep through everything. Wake up to your alphas and betas fussing over you.

Your lungs accepted the newfound air greedily.

“That’s it,” the nurse smiled softly. Her fingers brushed the wet hair out of your face and she guided you back against the seat. You held Vernie to your chest, her heart rate nearly as fast as yours.

A loud knock echoed throughout the room, the door slowly opening to reveal a doctor. He was a tall, slender man. You were only supposed to have female doctors. His eyes softened when they saw you.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Harrelson. I know in your file it says your alphas requested that you have female doctors, but I'm the only omega specialist on duty this morning,” his voice was soft with a beautiful lilt in it. “How do you feel about that?” he asked softly. You didn't care anymore. It wasn't like your pack really cared either. If they did, they would’ve tried to reach out to you.

“I’m fine with that,” you panted.

“Alright then. Let’s figure out what's going on with you, pup.”

You expected the nickname to throw you back into a spiral, yet, your breathing just steadied further.

Should be your alpha speaking those words to you.

Your stomach turned in bitterness.

“Her pack has been gone. Withdrawals, maybe?” the nurse offered. You were thankful for that, breathing being the priority for you. The doctor nodded his head in agreement, his brows furrowing as he looked you over.

“When did your symptoms start to become extreme?” he asked.

“The past few hours,” you explained.

“Can you describe them to me? Your symptoms.”

“Fever- I get those often though, sweating, heaviness in my body, nausea, dizziness, my heart won't slow down,” you rattled.

“Nausea and rapid heartbeats?” he questioned. He stood on his feet, resting his stethoscope in the center of your chest. “Those aren't usual symptoms of pack withdrawals,” he said slowly. “You are beating quite fast. It‘s been like this for how long?”

“The past hour,” you breathed.

“Have you started any new medication lately?”

“Camilcotazine,” you responded. He shook his head again.

“That wouldn't cause this,” he sighed. “Have you had any injections, piercings, or trackers placed into you recently,”

“I have a tracker but it’s been months since that's been put in,” you explained.

“Well, I'd like to run some tests. I think you may have something in your bloodstream. Maybe you accidently got poked by a rusty nail or something. Are you okay with that?” he asked.

Could you say no?

The initial fear had worn off.

Now you were just fatigued and irate. You didn't bother to ask if anyone was contacting your pack.

Would they even be able to get in touch with them?

If they were, what would your pack do?

Would they send someone back to be with you?

Even in your anger you believed they would.

You could imagine Johnny getting on a helicopter now, a mean snarl on his face at the thought of you going through this alone. You could smell the saltiness that would flow from Kyle at the state of you.

You didn't even want to think about your alphas.

You had more faith in your betas coming to your aid than your alphas.

The thought burned you further.

There was a knock on the door.

“Alright,” Dr. Harrelson sighed. He sat on his stool rolling closer to you. “Are you aware of a tracking device in your leg?”

The room went silent.

Dr. Harrelson’s face scrunched at your reaction.

“It’s very old. My guess would be about 7 to 9 years,” he continued. Not that you could hear him clearly. Your heart thrummed in your ears, your hospital gown clinging to you from how much you were sweating.

“I didn't know,” you replied shakily.

“Well it's an absorbable one- meaning after a few years it should've dissolved into your bloodstream. Yours hasn't. Your body is rejecting it,” he explained, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “We’ll need to remove it immediately. It'll be a small incision, one that likely won't even leave a scar. You won't even need to be put under, just some light anesthetic,”

“That's fine,” you responded immediately. You needed it out. Physically and mentally. You weren't in the corrected headspace to even think about who would do such a thing.

“Let's get started then.”

Hi friends! 👋Hope you enjoyed this next chapter and the first Chapter of section 2!!!! Lots of love and I’ll see you in three days for chapter 36! That's crazy!!!🧡

SERIES MASTERLIST

[ninguitar]

꣑ৎ　────　𝓡ED WINE KISSIN' , YJM 　　　　in the house that your parents got for you, rented 𓈒𓈒𓈒

───﹙☕️﹚𝓢. ｡｡　jimin was everything you wanted, and the only way you could ever reach into her heart, was through a simple friends-with-benefits ordeal, though it feels like swallowing a tough pill when you realize you've irrevocably fallen for her.

𝓹airing. yu jimin x f!r 𝓰enre. fluff, angst wc. 3.2k+ notes. WARNING. ⚠️ a lil suggestive. inspo from gilmore girls & yellowjackets. :3 lwk made jimin a cunt sorry 😓 (MASTERLIST)

now playing ⋆ nights like this by the kid laroi

YOU DON'T KNOW HOW IT HAPPENED, REALLY, and every bone in your body just tells you and pleads, that you stop letting yourself succumb to the same bottle of booze. and synonymously, nothing made sense to you, how you could've possibly ended up in yu jimin's sheets.

all your friends remembered her from school vividly, and occasionally, she'd cling onto a new girl and prance around with them every other week, a new girl wrapped around her finger only to be dumped aside the next week. "what a cunt," you recall telling your friends, snickering as you did so, but that was only back then. you always wondered how you succumbed to karina's whims and pleas the way you did with booze.

and you couldn't shake off the bitter taste that remained in your tongue, as you dwell on the past—the way you drunkenly and breathlessly muttered out, 'i like your pilgrim hat,' a careless and crooked smile curbing your lips, while a jimin with no hat on at all looked at you, a clueless expression. that was the start of it all—the start of an unnecessarily strung-on relationship between you two.

nothing was in your guys' futures—no dates, no promise rings or flowers, just the comfort of one-another in your beds. and in no shape or form could either of you call one-another their own. the moments in which one of you called the other, hoping to seek comfort were nothing, really—even if one of you ran to the other's side almost immediately. and usually, late night talks from those moments always led to more, to her lips pressed up against yours in a frenzy, her lipgloss smearing against yours down to your chin.

of course, you've asked about your guys' relationship—multiple times, actually—but the korean girl always brushed it off, your heart cracking bit by bit each time she ignored you. and usually, she'd just text you, spewing out less than futile apologies mixed in with promises that you'd always believed in, which often brought you back in her sheets.

dusk ate away at the light streaks that were previously in the sky, the trees leaves rustling, though it was overpowered by the chatter and sound of bodies grinding on one-another at the party. and of course, you stagger on your legs, trying not to knock over anything, because you knew that eventually whichever snobby kid who hosted the party would pin it back onto you. you turn your head to glance at your friends, tutting, "if i'm still letting that stuck-up kid beat me in badminton next match, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery," as you point to one of the guys trying to buy karina a drink.

you watch over them, almost dumbfounded. your lips curl in a sneer, the cup in your hands trembling slightly. you're barely able to fight the urge to just throw your cup, your jaw clenched. it stings, a reminder that you two were anything but dating, and that churns a pit of dread in your stomach. you force a smile, and you step back in search of some waiter for another drink.

another red plastic cup is already in your hand, and biting the rim of the cup, you take a swig. sleazily, your gaze shamelessly fixates on karina—whatever you guys were, you just knew she was devilishly attractive, and that always lured you in for more. you carelessly stuff hors d'oeuvres down your throat, not paying any mind to what they even were—hell, they were food served by some rich kid with personal maids, no way would they taste that egregious.

"are you sure you can even drive home?" one of your friends—sunwoo—questions, his eyes narrowing as he watches you carelessly shove anything down your throat. he reluctantly grabs your plate with the rest of your peculiar food combos and dumps it into the trash, shaking his head, "god, you're gonna complain about your hangover all morning tomorrow," he predicts, a grin adorning his face, as you retaliate.

"and god knows whose bed you'll be in tonight," you snicker, chuckles escaping your breath, as sunwoo plays along, as equally as intoxicated as you to even protest—you were right. the korean guy just shakes his head, nudging your shoulder, "enough teasing," he points his cup towards your direction, "let's talk about you and that god-awful girl," referring to jimin. sunwoo never liked karina, insisting that she was gonna toss you aside eventually, and a sense of disdain always painted his features at the mention of her. though, for you, he tolerated her—mainly because you begged him to.

"she's… not bad at all," you shrug, "you just don't get it, sunwoo. she's out of this world," you trail off, mindlessly talking about karina as though she was a goddess, and really, in your eyes, she was. a look of disgust washes over his features at your words, and shaking his head, he relents, "just be safe—you know what everybody says, she's the spawn of the devil. you owe me twenty bucks for that keg stand by the way," he huffs out the last sentence.

to you, it made sense that sunwoo acted in a crass way; he knew you like the back of his hand, and you were all he had growing up, so you guys were practically conjoined twins. he just simply took it on himself to make sure you were happy, even if it meant crushing your feelings sometimes. however, to karina, it only irritated her, and here and there, she'd drop complaints about him, hoping you'd catch on. of course, she relented at one point, growing less indignant towards him.

"anyway, i can't drive you home, my dad's gonna freak if he sees you hammered," sunwoo shrugs, stumbling as he tries to get up, and as he does so, karina strolls into your line of vision amongst a crowd, her lips curling into a half-assed grin. you mutter under your breath, "i'm not hammered, just a little tipsy, like i'm on cloud 9." a toothy smile plays on your face, as you brush past sunwoo, hollering out a 'bye!' you sneak up behind karina, hoisting her up in the air, and spinning her around.

a wide grin breaks out on her previously dull face, laughter wringing, before you plop her down. you instinctively lean in against her and relax your body against her's, before her gaze traces your features, "christ, you look like you just got out of a zombie apocalypse," she murmurs, unbridled concern laced in her tone. and by then, you still don't notice the way your sneak-up behind her made her spill a bit of her champagne onto her shirt, and that she'd somehow manage to maintain her composure. everybody knew, that if it weren't you making it spill, she'd be livid. her laughter quickly subsides, "i told sunwoo to make sure you'd still be able to drive yourself home, god, that guy—"

you shake your head, interrupting her train of thought, "sunwoo did, he just had to go home." you shrug, trying to dismiss the way karina's forehead was scattered with worry lines creased in them. the korean girl meekly bites her vicious words back, too wrapped up in the fact you were intoxicated off your mind. "you good?" you murmur, as she looks back at you, her eyes drooping down to your face, and then narrowing slightly.

"yeah, i'm good," she mutters too flatly, before playfully pinching your arm, sarcasm dripping from her words, "real great—i'm stuck with a drunk," eliciting a series of giggles from you. you quickly sputter, shaking your head, "you'll live, 'rina," and you lighten up almost immediately. continuing, you exclaim, "you're meant to be getting shitfaced and partying right now!"

"i did—i just don't like the drunk guys. anyway, how about i drive you home, yeah?" karina asks, her voice gentle yet probing. a faint smile tugs at her lips as she watches you let a giggle slip out past your incessant comments of partying and begrudgingly, you nod, trying to push yourself as close to her as humanly possible. and you hold onto her, like she was a prize that you won, fair and square.

the wind blows, sounding almost like running water, as the korean girl tries to gently hold onto you, an incapacitated girl, until you guys reach her car, the girl feeling a rush of relief. judging by the fact that you weren't spewing out any nonsense yet, you were probably delirious, everything blurring together in your vision. a noise of annoyance escapes karina's throat, as she helps you into the car, sighing.

and just as karina was starting the engine, you lament, your voice tinging with playfulness, "lighten up, jimin. you're always so tense, even sunwoo thinks so." karina raises a brow, her eyes darting up to look at you from the rearview mirror, and beside you, was a bottle of some useless, expensive alcohol you swiped from the party.

"i'm not tense," she scoffs, though there's a faint grin adorning her face, as she barely suppresses her chuckles past her faux annoyance. your laughter wrings outside the car, and her eyes linger on you at any time she had before the traffic lights flashes green. your gaze drifts to the moonlit sky, sitting quietly, and lost in your thoughts. the car drive was a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt with anybody but jimin.

"your house?" karina murmurs, as she waits for the light to buzz green, and with your tone taking on a frustrated edge, you mutter, "i don't wanna go, 'rina. can't i stay over at yours?" you practically plea, your voice hoarse, as you card a hand through your hair, "just wanna be anywhere with you, c'mon."

"okay," the korean girl breathlessly mumbles, biting back any of her concerned words, and you never really ever questioned why she was like this—the way her voice was always dulcet and just barely above a whisper when it came to you. that was an enigma to you.

nestled in karina's bedroom, the soft glow of her laptop casting gentle shadows on the walls, you sat on her bed, your jacket discarded god-knows-where. a pack of tylenol sat beside you on the nightstand, 'in case you wake up tomorrow majorly hung-over' in karina's words. curling up beside the korean girl under the cover, with your legs tangled together in a comfortable knot, you mumble incoherent words under your breath. the world ceased to exist in those moments, and before you knew it, your lips were against karina's in a fervent manner.

"eager, aren't you? the teasing words manage to escape her breath, and retaliating, you grunt, "shut up and just kiss me, 'rina." every few seconds, the korean girl mutters out playful words under her breath, wanting to just get under your skin for no apparent reason, and to prevent her, you press your lips against hers feverishly. and in between those teasing comments lingering in the air, she'd mumble out praise—from "my pretty girl," to "mine forever."

her hands moves to the back of your head, her touch firm yet controlled, as she pushes you closer to her. your hands press up against her chest, and in response, karina further presses your lips against hers in a kiss that was really anything but gentle—raw, messy, passionate, whatever. her urgency left you feeling dizzy, and you could feel the heat of her desire inside each kiss. the korean girl nips at your bottom lip, a throaty chuckle escaping her breath.

she drawls, her voice smooth and calm, "god, you're so much better than the rest," and the casual way she utters those words make you halt in your movements, your gaze blank. the rest? and unaware of the way you were practically paralyzed, karina closes the gap between you two once again, the intensity of her kisses overwhelming. "can't get you out my head, you know that? i can't help but think of you when 'm with other girls, and it sucks."

it felt like a slap in the face, with each back-handed comment from jimin making your shoulders droop. you huff, your eyes narrowing, "you cannot be serious, jimin," your tone takes on a harsh edge. the sound of your troubled figure sitting up and down follows your words, and without a shred of reluctance, karina follows you up. the frustration grows steadily in your body, as you look at her incredulously, your hands pressing up against her chest, "no- i can't do this anymore with you, jimin."

"what- what'd i do? talk to me," jimin pries, and she exhales softly, hoping to try to unwind her taut muscles even just a fraction, "please, i don't even know what you're talking about." and you swallow heavily, your eyes remaining adamant on avoiding karina's pleading, desperate gaze.

"don't you get it, jimin?" your eyes meet hers, an air of disbelief flowing through you, as you hesitate for a moment before completing your thoughts, "i don't wanna be another one of just your girls, the ones you toss aside." you admit, adrenaline rushing through your veins, and you could feel your face turning pale. you watch karina freeze in her steps, her face falling at your demand.

"what?" her voice is quiet, hoping that her ears were merely betraying her. and the blood rushing in your body almost drowns out her voice, but she continues, her voice low and urgent, "you're more than that, you're my best friend." each word feels like it's being ripped out from her heart, and her resolve crumbles, "i- i mean, we're just friends, aren't we?"

"and what we have is perfect, isn't it, so why ruin it? i like being able to do whatever this is and still be friends with you."

everything was complicated in your life already, and navigating through it was painstakingly slow—especially when you kept your relationship with jimin under the wraps, nobody but sunwoo knowing, only because he caught you guys one time at a party. none of it felt easy, yet there was karina, and she filled the void that nobody else could.

it felt as though there was always a yu jimin-shaped hole in your heart.

and you look back in her eyes, your gaze unwavering, "don't— friends my ass, 'rina! holding hands together, making out on the balcony, shopping in ikea for our future apartment—none of that is just friends." your voice runs hoarse, and the words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries months of indifference and uncertainty. you know it's a risk, a gamble that you're taking, just to get your words out; hell, maybe she'll succumb to your words the way you do to her whims, but you can't hold back any more longer.

"you're more special than the rest—so, so much more—"

you interrupt her, your voice resonating with deep resentment, "do you ever just listen! jimin, don't bullshit me. i'm not gonna be a warm body you hold at night just because you feel alone." and it's like a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "tell me we're not just friends, please."

"i like you, but i just don't want a relationship," karina presses on, "and i told you that in the beginning." her voice is barely above a whisper, and it's both a bitter pill to swallow, as your hand clenches. "c'mon," she whispers, her arms snake around your waist, taking your hand in hers, and her thumbs gently caress your skin, "we could just go back to kissing, can't we?"

the soft look in her eyes makes your heart flutter, and your knees buckle, as her lips brush against the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. she watches you with a contemplative expression, and you speak up, "you're not the only one who gets a say in this jimin—i do, too!" you stand up, scoffing, and months of holding back only fueled by karina causally mentioning other girls bubble to the surface.

then you remember, the night you kissed karina. it's like a distant memory now, and you just wished you spoke up against her. you remember the way her eyes met yours, and after a brief greeting to one-another by one of your guys' mutual friends, minjeong, you two hit it off. you remember the smell of her perfume, the bitter sensation of the drink she was having, and the way you could taste it on her lips. you remember when you two were inebriated, and she had the brilliant idea of climbing the roof, while you were still much of a worrywart.

it was unlike anything you'd experience before, because you remember the way her voice was dulcet, her eyes tender when she looked at you, when she whispered, "people could live a hundred years without living for a minute. climb up here with me, and it'll be one less minute you haven't lived." you, of course, listened to her words back then, and you were then found with your lips against hers; tongue ran over your teeth, nails clawing at your skin, and hair tangled between fingers.

"don't be like this! c'mon, i told you i didn't want anything serious," jimin huffs, and her voice is almost tinged with hurt, as she shakes her head. she gazes into your eyes, and she waits, her heart stuttering in her chest. you step back, shaking your head in resignation, and the distance between you two grows with each passing moment.

with your head in your hands, your persistence to argue against karina drowning out your body bit by bit, and your resentment building up brick by brick, you hiss out, "fine, fuck it, we're not together then! so be it." your clenched hands move to cling to your sides, your eyebrows knitted together.

"hey, i couldn't care less if we're together or not! and if you're upset that we're nothing but friends, then that's too damn bad!" she cracks, and she tilts her head, waiting for your response. her lips press into a thin line, and the sting in your eyes only grew larger, accompanied by your anger. jimin sighs, "for such a pretty girl, you are so fucking needy." she huffs, making sure to enunciate her words. her deep, hushed tone catches you off-guard, and you furrow your eyebrows.

you raise your tone to spitefully match hers, "sunwoo was right—i was just another one of your girls. i bet you told all of them they were special too, right? i mean you ought to have done that multiple times to perfect it," you remark sardonically, shrugging, and an uneasy silence settles among you two. jimin's hands curl around your wrist, her demeanor still persistent, "you are just so fuckin' infuriating! you're even lucky i gave your sorry ass a chance." but you nonetheless yank out of her grip, your heart feeling sore.

"i want all my shit back by next week—just have minjeong drop it off," you mutter flatly, and you practically lose your breath, your head pounding from the medley of emotions flowing through your veins. you push through karina, too lost in your thoughts.

i think about you and nothin' else

so if you would just come over, i could show you for myself

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[hanasnx]

bruce trying to explain to dick and jason that the young woman they saw in the manor is his 19 yo situationship !!

PART ONE ✩ PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+

BRUCE WAYNE cuffs his last link, and straightens out the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"I'm not sneaking around." JASON TODD insists, as if it should be obvious and he's disgusted Bruce would imply such a thing. A resentful smile replaces it as he claps a harsh hand on the back of DICK GRAYSON. "Birdie here was just helping me out, he told me you'd be gone by now. Didn't know you kept my copy." He raises the book into view and wiggles it.

"Of course, I would. It has all your annotations." Bruce replies calmly, and Jason's expression drops subtly. Bruce approaches you and adjusts the blanket you held so you'd be more covered up. "Why don't you go freshen up? The car's waiting." Your cheeks heat even more than before, you're sure he can see the color bloom on them and spread to your forehead. He's not the least bit interested in your nightgown that the boys commented on, instead keeping warm and rough hands on your shoulders protectively.

"Hold on a sec', who is this?" Jason has the need to be combative, especially after the flash of vulnerability he displayed. He gestures to you with the book. "Getting younger every year, aren't they, Bruce?" A wolfish grin spreads onto his lips, his canines glinting in the firelight and you frown at his rude implications, talking about you like you're not even there.

"She's my date for tonight." Bruce replies coolly, and you glance between them, puzzled over how he keeps such a level head around someone intent to get under his skin. You were alone five minutes with Jason and he'd managed to annoy you. Bruce somehow senses your unease, and meets your gaze, a soft glow in his eyes.

"Yeah, Bruce, I'm with Jason here. She looks younger than us." Dick has joined in on the conversation that apparently does not include you. "Are you sure that's the kind of statement you wanna make?"

"This conversation is over." A harder tone takes root within Bruce's voice as he commands, and you've had enough.

"Hello? Why are you all talking like I'm not here?" you demand, looking between their expressions of varying shock. "I'm the Ice Princess of Gotham, goddamnit, I won't be ignored!"

A snicker breaks out from Jason, who pats Dick's arm with the back of his hand. "Damn, the kindergartner's got a mouth on her." Dick does not engage in the banter, batting Jason's hand away with a scolding, "Jason."

"I'm tired of this!" you declare, and bunch up the blanket, rolling it up and tearing at it with your claws before throwing it to the ground. "I hope you have fun going to whatever-it-is by your-self, Bruce. I'm going to spend my time with people more civilized." you hiss, proudly sticking your nose in the air as you go to the exit.

"Tell 'em, baby! You go, girl!" Jason jeers after you, "A little more ass next time, that nightgown's too long."

Dick has the urge to shove Jason into the fire, but now that they're adults it's not as feasible as when they grew up around each other. "You're a piece of shit, you know that?" he tells him, but it's more or less tired.

Jason side-eyes him with a shrug. "I knew she couldn't handle it. I'm a tough pill to swallow, and a little princess like that needed some humbling."

"Who says? Jesus, Jason, you think everyone needs to be taken down a peg."

"So, Bruce, what were you celebrating tonight? Her sweet sixteen?" That grin stretches back onto Jason's countenance as he interrogates his former mentor. "Finally sick of pussy your age?"

"She was a distraction." Bruce answers, passing through the two boys. All of the polite inhibition from before is lowered, the playboy veil gone now that you've left the room. All that's left now is Batman, and he opens the window. Dick and Jason's eye follow his back as the cold night air hits them. "Penguin and Batman are at odds, and if Bruce Wayne is the center of controversy, the tabloids don't even notice the dealings of a vigilante." He watches you enter a cab in a huff, your longcoat thrown over your nightgown and heels, and drive off. He turns to Jason, and tips his head toward the open window. "I'm assuming this is how you got in, so out you go."

"This is the fourth story, Bruce."

"So you'll have no trouble."