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ellecdc · 2 days ago

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James' Love & the Adventures of Padvix

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is very foxy [1.2k words]

CW: animagus reader, modern AU but still magical, they're staying at an airBNB, padfoot and vixen are out of control and James [+ Remus] are smitten

Remus looked so pretty; his cheeks and nose kissed pink by the cold, a soft, satisfied smile on his face, and the snowflakes landing on his hat and tawny curls poking out from under it that took their sweet time to melt under his effervescent warmth.

James was in love.

“Are you going to help me here or are you just going to keep staring?” Remus commented then, not bothering to look up at his boyfriend whilst a cheeky smirk danced on his lips.

James wanted to kiss him senseless.

So he did.

Remus tasted like the peppermint hot chocolate he enjoyed earlier, the peppermint hot chocolate he’d probably enjoy when they got back inside, the cold winter air, and happiness.

James was in love.

“Sorry Moons.” He murmured against his lips before pressing one more, two more, let’s make it three more kisses to his lips before he did indeed help load the chopped wood into the strong IKEA bags.

The two of them stepped into the steamy warm cabin. No, it wasn’t actually steamy, that was just James’ glasses. But before James' bag of firewood even hit the ground, gentle fingers were pulling them from his face before Remus pressed a kiss to his nose.

James was in love.

De-fog-ified, James’ glasses made themselves back home on his face as he looked around the living space of the small cabin the four of you had rented for the week.

“Where’d they go?” He inquired aloud, hearing a canine ‘oomph’ in response.

Remus and James both moved to stand behind the sofa to find you and Sirius - or, rather, Pads and Vix - on the rug in front of the fire. Padfoot appeared to be laying casually (which told James and Remus that he was very much up to something) whilst Vix performed dramatic “mousing” jumps onto Padfoot’s back, eliciting those canine “oomph’s” they had heard upon entering.

James was in love.

“I’m pretty sure this airBNB was ‘no pets allowed’ you two.” Remus teased, though he seemed no less pleased at watching the two of you roughhouse.

“Please.” James scoffed as he lazily fell over the back of the sofa. “A quick vanishing spell and we’ll be leaving this place cleaner than we found it.”

“Why do you think we get perfect ratings for every place we rent?” Remus chuckled as he navigated around the sofa like a normal person, lifting his leg when you started to zoomie across the area rug and nearly collided with him. “Merlin, Vix, you’re a hazard.”

Padfoot let out what sounded awfully close to a laugh before Vix went to do one of her mousing jumps at him again, only for him to roll onto his back so that her front paws landed into his stomach and then rolled back over, completely encapsulating the much smaller fox under his large frame.

If James was none the wiser, he would have assumed that the dog was the only animal in the dwelling; Padfoot returning to laying far too casually.

James was in love.

“Padfoot.” Remus chided, giving the dog a look of faux exasperation. “Can she even breathe under there?”

The dog huffed in a way that told both boys he was rolling his eyes before two front paws circled the tip of his tail and two back paws started bunny kicking the base. Padfoot seemed to be cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at the little vixen as James started cackling.

“She’s wild today.”

“I have a feeling it’s not one sided.” Remus murmured in response as Vix’s head popped out from under the large dog's fur, the two of them staring each other down before both of Padfoot’s front paws slammed down onto the rug in an invitation to play, and Vix launched herself at his face.

Vix ended up on her back between his paws as she swatted and nipped at Padfoot’s muzzle and bunny kicked the thick fur around his neck as Padfoot mouth-wrestled and gently nipped at Vix’s scruff.

“Oh come on you guys,” James moaned, “you’re gonna be all slobbery!”

Padfoot stood then - tail straight up in the air and wagging slowly - allowing Vix to stand and bolt in one direction, reappearing from the other side of the room before Padfoot even began his chase.

James was almost dizzy when all he could see was the occasional blur of orange fur and Padfoot pausing in the middle of the room with his ears and tail up before the blur reappeared and he took off again after her, Remus laughing so heartily at the chaos that he ended up nearly collapsing into James’ side.

James was in love.

The room fell eerily quiet for a moment before Vix flew over the back of the sofa, landing between James and Remus, and Padfoot appeared in front of them looking disturbingly close to launching his very large frame at the bunch of them.

“Pads, don’t you dare!” Remus shouted through a laugh, holding his hands up as if ready to fend off the large dog.

Vix seemed to think it was hilarious too; the high pitched cackling sound foxes often make leaving her mouth as she flattened herself to the sofa - so happy, so excited, so full of love that her entire little body seemed wholly incapable of staying still.

James was in love.

Padfoot let out an excited bark and licked excitedly at Remus’ hands before moving his affection to Vix’s head.

“No!” James laughed before scooping the fox up into his arms. “I want cuddles before the two of you are covered in slobber.”

Vix melted into James’ embrace whilst Padfoot clumsily made his way up onto the sofa that he was a little too big to fit on, though Remus still did his best to accommodate him.

“The two of you are menaces.” Remus muttered good naturedly as he threw his arm over the back of the sofa.

“She started it!” The now human form of Sirius argued as he leaned into Remus's side.

“Who? Her?” James asked as he held Vix’s little face up against his own, both of them shooting Sirius their best puppy dog face. “Sirius, look at her. How could she be the problem?”

“So what? I’m automatically the problem?” Sirius scoffed in offence.

“Yes.” James and Remus chorused.

“I’m cute too!” Sirius nearly shrieked then.

“Adorable.” Remus agreed quickly. “But you’re the kind of cute that screams trouble.”

“Oh, as opposed to what? Her innocence?” Sirius muttered then, gesturing to Vix with a frustrated hand.

His ire melted away, though, when the fox gave his hand a gentle lick.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, she’s adorable.” He grumbled petulantly as he stole the fox from James’ embrace, cradling it in his arms so Remus and James could admire you from over his shoulders.

You melted back into yourself then, smiling widely up at the three boys; love, mischief, excitement, and contentment oozing from your being that could only come with knowing how loved you were and loving them just as much in turn.

James was so in love.

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acid-ixx · 1 day ago

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chapter five dialogue spoilers

— masterlist !

"you don't fucking understand jason!

— i don't need your help, or anyone else's. you have never been there for me! never been there for all the times i suffered because of your death! so don't even try to make a difference now!"

"— no way, did you dare scold me just now, jason. out of all the times i nearly got killed, you decided to save me by the time i accepted my death?! this isn't the first fucking time this happened to me and it wouldn't be the last."

"hell, the only first that happened this time was that one of you actually came to save me, so don't you fucking belittle me and call me impulsive and selfish when i can and have handled all this alone."

"jason... i don't want to be his favorite, i never want to be, fuck—!"

"i never wanted to be an athlete like dick, or as academically talented like you, or some crazed detective like tim, or as skilled as an assassin like damian! i don't even have the determination steph has or barbara's perseverance to continue fighting alongside all of you! i can't even reach cassandra's level of fighting, and i certainly don't have powers like duke!"

"— all of you guys are so fucking talented, and here i am, so pathetic for thinking i can reach the same level as you all when i can't!"

"i just can't, jason! so how could i have the damn audacity to desire being bruce's priority when each and every one of you are beyond my level?!"

"i never wanted to be bruce's favorite, jason! i just..."

"... i just wanted to be his child."

"i just want to be selfish for once... i want to see him the same way he looks at you back then, every damn time he stares at your grave, while i watch by the fucking windows, wishing it was me he looked at."

"i wanted him to look at me, and think of me as important as you, or even just a semblance of it..."

"god, i don't even want him to see me as a priority, i don't want him to see me and think i'm the best damn thing in the world, but i want him to stare and think, 'this is my child,' without any second thoughts, without any regards for my dirty fucking past."

"... we're not even siblings anymore, we're just strangers to each other—"

"that's not true, angel. don't even... don't even think of saying that..."

"why are you trying so hard to push us away?! push me away right after you.. you opened up?!"

"because we're not family anymore, goddamnit! care for me, care for me like you care for all those strangers getting mugged in the street! not as my brother—!"

"i am your brother, (name)!

and i care for you, more than you can ever fucking imagine, so don't... don't fucking push me away! not especially right after i almost lost you!"

a/n: hi guys, sorry for the random inactivity. i've been at an all time low with depression and that directly affected my motivation to write. lately, imposter syndrome alongside self-esteem issues did hinder me from commiting to writing events, and most especially this series. it's a very loved one, i know, for all the comments, thank you a lot for supporting me. but sometimes there're times i'm close to nearly deactivating this account. for everyone hoping for the next part; i don't know when, or how i'll be able to, but soon.

#🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere dc comics #yandere batfam #yandere jason todd #yandere angst #platonic yandere #yandere red hood #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere

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soleilapproves · 3 days ago

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You suspect that Simon might have a crush on you (much to your happiness). So you decide to harmlessly manipulate him into admitting it by asking him to set you up with one of his friends.

Note(s): fem!reader, not proofread 🤡

—

r/advice

u/throwaway123:

How do I (F) subtly find out if my friend (M33) likes me?

Replies:

u/sudsysoap: there’s no need to be subtle. ask him to sleep with you lmao [+50, -10]

u/pricetag: agree with u/sudsysoap, men will sleep with anything as long as it has a hole [+30, -20]

u/log1cal: ask him to set you up with his friends. I did that and now we have 2 kids and a third one on the way. That prank will work wonders [+100, -7]

You had a feeling that Simon liked you. It felt obvious. He would walk by the street on the sidewalk to protect you, brought you deadbolts for your mangy apartment that you only live in for the cheap rent, would buy you groceries when you were too tired to leave your bed, and of course, would be very patient with you when you’d be feeling irritated.

Okay, maybe, he just treated you like how a best friend should but that still wouldn’t explain why he’d come to your apartment, in your crime ridden neighborhood and cuddle with you right after deployment. Not even bothering to shower before laying himself down on you like a starfish.

“I just want to feel warm.” Was his answer whenever you’d ask him why he did so.

You never complained though. Instead, you relished the feeling of his heavy and exhausted body against yours. Enjoying the almost territorial hold he had on you. Like most friendships, it was a symbiotic relationship.

You both never kept much from each other. Obviously there were many aspects of his job that you couldn’t ask about and you respected that.

However, you both had hidden feelings and neither of you wanted to put your cards on the table out of the fear of rejection.

You watched as the man scarfed down his Sunday breakfast- a sort of inside tradition where you’d both go to a cafe near your apartment and scarf down food. It always happened on the first Sunday after his return from deployment.

The words from that one Reddit comment lingered in your mind.

He felt your eyes on him from your end of the booth and placed his fork down, still in his grasp. “Somethin’ on my face?” His gruff voice asked.

“No, I’m just wondering if they even fed you at all.”

He let out a sarcastic ‘ha’ and went back to eating. You were getting antsy to the point where you began to pick at your hash brown with your fork, the crisp golden patty crumbling with every poke.

You wanted to try the trick so bad.

But what if he doesn’t like you like that? What if he does end up setting you up with a man you aren’t interested in because you decided to be sly for a moment?

Fuck it. At least this would be the least explicit way.

“I’m so tired of being single.” You huffed as you leaned back into the leather cushioned booth. Simon did not give any sort of reaction. Instead he directed his attention to his coffee as he mixed it with some zero calorie sweetener.

“All the guys in this city are so weird. I’ve done everything to get a boyfriend.” You continued. Simon sipped his beverage and looked through the menu again (probably for a second helping of sausages).

Still no reaction. Sometimes you wondered how you even became friends with him.

“Wait, I know.”

His demeanor changed as his blue eyes flit to your figure. “You should set me up with one of your military friends.” You said as you smiled like a scientist who had just made a great discovery in his field.

Simon beckoned you over with his hand. Confused, you slid towards his end of the booth. “What?”

He lightly knocked on the top of your head like it was a door. “Thank God,” he muttered out.

“What was that for?” You replaced his hand with yours on your head, checking to see if he was trying to remove any lint.

“Tryin’ to check if your skull was hollow.”

“Fuck you, Simon. All I did was ask for a favor.”

The man folded his arms, biceps begging to be let out of the confinement of his sleeves. Your heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster at the sight.

“Is it because I’m not pretty?”

“Where’d that even come from? I-“

“So you agree that I’m not pretty.” You said before huffing and turning away from him.

“Oh my- fuck, just listen to me.”

You open your mouth to say more but you decide to give your friend a break.

He cleared his throat and turned your shoulders towards him. Your skin burned when his calloused palms situated themselves on you. “First of all, you’re not ugly. You’re basically out of their league.” You never understood why he couldn’t just compliment you like a normal person.

“Second, you deserve someone who will actually give you all their time. Something my military friends can’t do. You’re not going to be a priority.”

You felt like shrinking in your seat. His reasoning was ambiguous. You couldn’t tell if he was denying your request because he didn’t want your heart broken or because he actually liked you.

“Oh, okay.” You looked away from him in embarrassment. So much for miracles.

“Besides,”

He then went on to replace the deconstructed hash brown on your plate with his non battered one.

“You might find someone if you look hard enough.”

Your head perked up. Could he possibly be hinting at something?

“What do you mean?”

“Go out with me.” He didn’t beat around the bush this time. Went straight to the point.

“I don’t want you to date me out of pity, Simon.”

“It’s not pity. I like you.”

Oh.

OH.

You made a mental note to thank that one Reddit comment later. Trying your best not to smile, you let out a deep a breath before speaking. “Truth be told, I like you too. I don’t just let any man barge into my house and lay with me.”

“You’d better not.” Simon said as he pulled you into his side and then pushed your head close to his with his hand behind your neck.

“Been waitin’ for you to admit that.” He said before leaving a deep kiss on your mouth.

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silversurfersx · 1 day ago

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you and me and your friend kimi | ollie bearman

ollie bearman x gf!reader [smau]

summary: in which you just want to hang out with your boyfriend, but his boyfriend just keeps appearing alongside

A/N: Guys I'm sick and maybe a bit delirious, if something is a bit weird, I blame the sickness, also english isn't my first language

liked by olliebearman, kimiantonelli, dinobeganovic and others

yourusername: karting w/ my bf and his bf. Cheers boys!

view comments

olliebearman: ❤❤

yourusername: ❤🐻 kimiantonelli: ❤🤝 yourusername: 👀 kimiantonelli: @ olliebearman 😘❤ olliebearman: @ kimiantonelli 🥰❤ yourusername: 🤨 olliebearman: @ yourusername 🥰😘❤❤❤😅

user1: kimi our here third wheeling, lol

user2: *y/n

dinobeganovic: can I come next time?

yourusername: you can come instead of kimi

kimiantonelli: what 🥺

liked by olliebearman, kimiantonelli, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

yourusername: photodump.

view comments

user3: this is so chaotic, I love it

olliebearman: ❤😘

yourusername: ❤🥰

user4: that's a real kimi raikonnen caption

user5: y/n challenge to not post her man

user6: and kimi user7: at this point they've adopted him

kimiantonelli: why did you post a picture of sebastian vettel as a kid?

yourusername: cause he's adorable olliebearman: she sometimes spends hours just looking at pictures of him as a kid yourusername: again, he is freaking cute kimiantonelli: that's weird user8: i get it, little seb is adorable [liked by yoursusername]

thomasbearman1: can I come to ikea next time too?

yourusername: of course 😊 kimiantonelli: and me? yourusername: you just went with us kimiantonelli: yes, and? yourusername: ask ollie user9: in other words: ask dad

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, kimiantonelli and others

olliebearman: happy birthday to my favourite girl. The best girlfriend and engineering student in the world. I love you to the moon and back ❤❤❤❤❤❤🥰🥰🥰😘😘🥳🥳🥳🥳

tagged: yourusername

view comments

user10: oh to be loved the way ollie loves y/n, happy bday

charles_leclerc: happy birthday y/n!

yourusername: omg charles leclerc, thank u some much 🥰

kimiantonelli: happy birthday mama 🥰🥳🥳

yourusername: i think I'd remeber if I were your mum 🤔 but thank you

yourusername: thank you so much, love! I love you to pluto and back 🥰❤❤

olliebearman: then I love you from the andromeda galaxy and back 😘🥰❤❤❤

user11: not them out here challenging their love for each other

user12: it's incredibly cute but also very painful (I'm single)

prema_team: happy birthday, y/n!

___

yourusername posted a story

caption: helping chef kimi 🍝

tagged: kimiantonelli, olliebearman

kimiantonelli posted a story

caption: paddel with the family

tagged: olliebearman, yourusername, dinobeganovic

yourusername: family? Did we adopt Dino now too? kimiantonelli: too? Have you accepted my request to be officially adopted? yourusername: ollie made me kimiantonelli: 😍

kimiantonelli posted a story

caption: I have been officially adopted, I want to thank my adopted parents for this opportunity ❤❤

tagged: yourusername, olliebearman

olliebearman: aww, she told you🥰 welcome to the family 😘 kimiantonelli: grazie 😘

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #kimi antonelli #formula one fanfiction #formula two #f1 smau #f1 x reader #prema racing

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zyhkoo · 10 hours ago

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🌊 love.

fluff, f!civilian. inspired by @mostly-imagines ‘ fics, slightly ooc i think..

( how jason’s stone heart softens around you)

Love was a very foreign concept for Jason. He has read books, watched movies with the batgirls and watch the corny love shows Dick binges but nothing seems to him show him how to love.

Sure, there are some things he likes. He likes a few things, but nothing seems to be ‘love.’

Love? It was only for the naive and the vulnerable. He had seen too many people get hurt, including himself. Love makes a person weak, those feelings would lead to mistakes and pain. So he thought he was better off without it. How could he love something, when he doesn’t even love himself?

It was a snowy night, he was leaned over some random apartment’s wall holding over his wound. His hand was pressed against his side as he felt the blood seep between his fingers. He grits his teeth in pain, the cold nipping at skin.

It was a bad night, he had been caught off by a group of criminals who ambushed and destroyed his earbud for communication. He had no choice but to seek refuge, the nearest safe house was 30 minutes away and he couldn’t make it. As the footsteps grew closer, Jason tensed up, his hand instinctively going for the gun strapped to his hip. But before he could draw his weapon, the figure came into view, wrapped in winter clothes for warmth.

Jason's eyes narrowed, trying to make out the figure's features in the low light. He had no idea if this person was a friend or foe, and as he was in no condition to fight, he would need to be cautious.

“Uh, hi?” you said, concerned about the guy on your porch. You had just come home from an odd dinner date and things couldn’t just get weirder.

Jason's eyes softened as he heard the voice addressing him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, he didn't want to startle or scare you. After all, he was in no condition to fight right now. "Hey," he responded, his voice strained from the pain. "Sorry to bother you. I just... needed a place to rest for a bit."

You looked at him, he had a damaged red helmet over his head, brown jacket and a wounded side.. isn’t this the vigilante guy? You stepped closer, but not too close. “You’re hurt.” you said, as you then looked around then back to him “D-do you need an ambulance or..?”

Jason huffed weakly, "Nah, I'll be fine. It's just a scratch" he said, trying to play it off. However, he knew he needed to do something about the wound soon. "Do you, uh, mind if I come inside for a bit? I won't be a bother, I promise."

You slowly nodded “Yeah.. yeah of course let me help.” you said as you reached out to him. Jason nodded in appreciation. He winced slightly as you reached out, still feeling the pain from his wound, but he knew he couldn't refuse any help he could get.

He leaned on you for support as he slowly stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. "Thanks," he muttered quietly. "I owe ya one, doll." You propped him on your couch, you looked down at his bleeding wound. “I can help.. uh, I know a bit of nursing.” you said.

He looked up at you, his eyes studying you intently, trying to gauge your intentions. He didn't know you, but he had no other option at the moment.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah, wait, let me find my first aid.” As you came back with the kit in your hand, you kneeled, lifting his shirt up to see the damage. As you looked at his wounded side, you could see the deep gash across his abdomen, with blood slowly seeping from the edges. It was a nasty wound, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with basic medical supplies.

Jason winced slightly as you touched his sides, hissing in pain. "It's not as bad as it looks." he muttered, trying to sound tough. You gave a skeptical look at his comment but continued to tend to his wound. As you pulled out some gauze and antiseptic, you couldn't help but notice the numerous scars that covered his stomach and chest.

Jason noticed your curious glances, and a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. He was used to the scars by now, but he still felt a sense of discomfort whenever someone would glance at them. He knew they were hard to ignore, but he preferred keeping them hidden whenever possible. He didn't like showing weakness, and the scars were a clear sign of his failures.

You continued on your work as you placed the antiseptic “This will sting.”

"Just do it," he said through clenched teeth. "I can handle it."

You proceeded to gently wipe the area around the wound with the antiseptic, making sure to clean out any dirt or debris that might have gotten inside. He tensed up, groaning slightly as the antiseptic stung his skin. You knew he tried to hide his discomfort.

“Sorry if I stared.” you said as you started to wrap the bandages, “That was rude of me.”

"It's fine," he said, his voice gruff as he spoke. "I know I'm not the prettiest sight to behold." you couldn't help but frown at his comment. There was more to him than just his scars, you thought. But you knew better than to say anything about it.

You wrapped the final knot as you dusted your hands, “I’m done.”

"Thanks," he tried to sit up straight, wincing slightly as he put pressure on his wound. You tried to make him sit “Woah woah, okay, don't push yourself.” He allowed you to gently push him back down onto the couch. He wasn't used to being told what to do, but he couldn't deny that he was still fairly weak from his injury.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

“What are you exactly?” you asked, brows furrowing. He paused for a bit, thinking on his answer " I'm a vigilante," he said, "I patrol the streets at night and take care of the bad guys."

“Do you… kill people?” He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. "Sometimes," he said quietly, his tone distant. "When there's no other choice."

"I don't enjoy it," he continued, "But sometimes violence is the only language criminals understand." You tell your name as he nodded in response, “Call me, Red Hood.” he said. You looked at him, pointing at his head “But that’s a helmet.” you said. He huffs “Well, I don’t exactly go around telling people my name sweetheart.”

Jason looked out the window, noting the late hour. He knew that he should get going— the night would not wait for him. He shifted on the couch, wincing slightly as he jostled his wounded side. "I should probably get going," he said, slowly getting up from the couch. Your eyed widened as you stood up as well “What? Are you sure?”

Jason nodded, gritting his teeth as he tried to stand up straight. He could already feel the pull of the stitches in his side, but he didn't want to worry you any more than he already had. "I'll be fine," he said, even though he was still somewhat wobbly on his feet. "I've had worse."

You watch him open your window and left to the snowy cold city. You walked towards your window, hands on the railings as you saw him leave, “Stay safe!” you yelled out. He turned slightly and nodded, giving you a small wave before disappearing into the shadows of the city.

About 2 days passed, somehow.. he felt this itch. He wanted to return the favor. It was a foreign feeling for him— he wasn't used to caring about anyone besides himself. But something about you just wouldn't leave his mind.

Like why does it even matter? You 're just some rando who treated his wounds.

…And so, on the third day, he decided to pay a visit to your apartment.

He didn’t know how to approach this situation, he landed on your fire escape. The steel slightly shook from his weight. He paused as he reached your window, peering through the glass with hesitance in his eyes. The blinds were closed, but he could see your silhouette from the light.

Jason tried to get a better view of you through the slits in the blinds. He wasn't sure why he was being so cautious— after all, he was the one who had decided to come here.

God this was so stupid.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the glass, signaling his presence. You were in the middle of making yourself a cup of tea when you heard a knock on the window. You were confused, and a little creeped out. Who would be knocking this late at night?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you walked towards the window and pulled the blind strings, white lenses widening at the sight of a figure standing on your fire escape. You let out a surprised noise as you saw him. You opened the window as you felt the cold air come in “Red Hood? Why are you here?”

Jason hopped into your apartment, his boots making a soft thud as he landed. He looked around for a moment, taking in the cozy space before focusing his gaze back on you. He shrugged, as if his presence here was no big deal. "Just thought I'd return the favor," he replied.

Your eyes darted around the room, “Er, by how?”

…Shit, he didn’t even think of what to return. Jason cursed under his breath, fuck why didn’t he thought this through?

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with something quickly. “I could uh, keep an eye on you. Make sure no one bothers you.” he says “If I see a shady guy sneaking around your fire escape i’ll shoot em’”

Jason mentally facepalmed at his own words. That was stupid, he thought. You probably didn't need him lurking outside your window like some kind of oversized bodyguard. You looked at your table with your tea set and back to him “Do you want tea?” you invited.

He paused for a moment before nodding slightly, “Yeah.. yeah sounds nice.” he said as he took a seat.

You then remembered he wore a helmet, “Wait— I can just drink in another direction while you…” he takes off his helmet and saw him with a domino mask. He had a white streak on his hair and he looked younger than you expected, about your age actually. “��drink.”

"Yeah," he snorts, unable to hide a hint of amusement in his voice. "I can't exactly drink with a helmet on." You sat in front of him as you poured the warm tea in his cup. He picked up the cup, wrapping his fingers around the warm porcelain. The aroma of tea drifted up towards him, and he took a small sip, relishing the hot liquid as it warmed his chest.

“Are you really here to return the favor?” you asked, looking up at him. “Yeah, I am,” he replied, “I don’t like owing people favors, much less owing one to someone I just met.” he added, "But I also wanted to check on you. Make sure you're alright."

“I’m alright.” you replied “You don’t have to return the favor, you know.” Jason shakes his head "I'm a man of my word," he retorted, "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

He took another sip of his tea, the hot liquid giving him a moment to think. "Besides," he continued, "It's not like I have anything better to do." you raised your brow, “You probably do.” you said as you sipped your tea.

“Well, yeah maybe so. But still.” Jason leaned back slightly in his seat, swirling the tea in his cup as he tried to find the right words. He knew you were right— there was always something for him to do out there on the streets. “I’d rather be here, to be honest,” he darts his eyes away from yours.

You warmly flashed a smile “Sure, you can come over anytime.” he raised his brow, "You sure about that?” he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. "You don't even know my real name."

You hummed “True, but I don’t really have any company.”

Jason studied you for a moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in your words. It was hard for him to believe that someone would be so carefree about inviting a masked vigilante into their home. But there was something genuine in your expression, a loneliness that mirrored his own.

He took another sip of tea, mulling your words over. "What, no boyfriend?” he lets put an amused scoff. Your hand moved across your neck with a bitter expression. He knew that look all too well— the look of someone with a bitter past.

"Bad breakup?" he asked. You sighed as your eyes darted down, “Yeah, it was really messy.” you said, sipping some tea.

He didn't push you for more details, knowing that you would share only as much as you were comfortable with. Instead, he simply nodded, "I can imagine," he said quietly. “It happened two days ago actually, when you sat on my porch injured.”

Jeez, how he felt terrible.

"It was that recent?" he asked and you nodded. Jason felt guilt as he realized the timing of his visit. You had been dealing with a breakup when he had shown up randomly on your doorstep. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Bad timing, I guess." you chuckled “No, it’s fine. I guess it’s better than sulking to myself. I mean it's.. really weird but, hey.”

He let out a soft scoff, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “Yeah, I guess I’m better company than crying alone in the dark.”

Over the next few days, He would find himself returning to your apartment. Even though he was very hesitant at first, he found himself unable to stay away. He tells himself… it was just a matter of returning a favor, but he knew there was more to it than that. Your apartment had become a sort of like haven for him, a place where he could let his guard down and be himself.

Every two nights, he would make his way through the city, cloaked in shadows until he reached your window, slipping through your window without a word and settling on your couch. Each time, he would sit in silence for a few moments, as if checking to see if he was welcome or if you would turn him away. But you always seemed to accept his presence without question, offering him a cup of tea or a light conversation.

Was it stupid and dangerous for the two of you? Yes. Does he still visit you anyway? Yes.

It was another night, and Jason found himself making his way towards your apartment once again. He had gotten used to this routine, this quiet comfort of slipping through your window and finding a place on your couch. As he landed on your fire escape, he took a moment to scan the area, making sure no one had followed him. Satisfied that he was alone, he let himself into your apartment, as usual.

He entered your kitchen in his usual stealthy manner, taking off his helmet and setting it on your table. As he did, he caught sight of you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

You looked up at him, “You’re a day early.” you said. He gave a soft scoff, “Am I not welcome here anymore?” you shook your head, “No, no, no, you are.”

“Good,” he replied, taking a seat on the couch. “You know you shouldn’t treat other randos like this if I’m gone.” you rolled your eyes as you stood from your seat and shuffled in your cabinets, “I know, I’m not dumb.” you replied. "Just making sure,” shrugged, you could tell that he was teasing you a bit. “Wouldn’t want some sketchy guy taking advantage of your kind heart.”

"Oh, shut it,” you retorted, turning to look at him. “I’m not that easy to take advantage of.” Jason let out a huff “Oh really? Seems to me like you're letting me waltz into your home every other night without complaint.”

You let out a huff, trying not to let your frustration show. He had a point… but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"That’s different,” you protested. "You’re not some random creep." Jason smirked, enjoying your reaction. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked up at you. "But you barely know me," he said, "For all you know, I could be some criminal mastermind, pretending to be a nice guy."

You took a box of macaroni and turned back to him with a glare, “Are you asking to get kicked out?” you don’t actually mean it, but he could be right. Jason knew you weren’t being serious, but the hint of truth in your words made him tense.

"No, I’m not asking to get kicked out,” he assured you, "I’m grateful for your hospitality, honest." You did a smug smile, “That’s what I thought.” you said as you started to cook some macaroni.

He huffed as he leaned back on the couch, watching you work. He couldn’t help but find your confidence amusing.. the way you weren’t afraid to stand up to him or tease him back.

He shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable with his own relaxed behavior. He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so at ease around you. Maybe it was the fact that you accepted him without question even though you shouldn’t, or maybe it was something else entirely. He couldn’t quite pin it down.

But.. either way, he admits he enjoys this.

Jason was used to bantering with his siblings, it came naturally to them. Here, it felt lighter. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

His next visit was odd, it was a different visit from the usual. Jason arrived slightly later than usual, a scowl on his face and a heavy air of frustration surrounding him. As he slipped through your window, you could immediately tell something was off. He didn’t offer his usual greeting, and his shoulders were tense, as if he was carrying a weight heavier than usual.

He didn’t even take his helmet off, you can’t help but be worried so you walked over to him, “Are you okay, Hood?” you asked, testing the waters. Jason’s eyes flicked up to look at you as you approached him. Yet he still felt cold.

He let out a scoff, his gaze somewhere else. “I’m fine,” he muttered. You took a cautious step closer to him, your eyes studying him carefully. "Something happened?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice gentle.

Your hand hovered in the air, unsure what to do. You didn’t want to piss him further, you don’t know what he was like when he was angry. He knew that he was giving off an intimidating aura, but part of him couldn’t help but wish you would reach out.

He let out another sigh, trying to reign in his temper. "You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me," he muttered. Okay, well now you felt a little relieved at his words. You weren’t sure how he would react if you pushed further, but you also knew he needed someone to talk to.

You sat in the couch beside him, your hand finally landing on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right?” you said softly. You could feel him tense up slightly, but he didn’t shrug you off.

He let out another sigh, the tension in his body slowly starting to uncoil. “It’s just family stuff,” he admitted, his voice quiet. Your eyes softened as your hand moved to his back, “You wanna talk about it?” you asked. Jason looked at you for a moment, his eyes fixed on your face. The sight of your soft, empathetic expression made his walls crumble slightly, and he found himself nodding.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he said gruffly, setting his helmet down on the coffee table. He leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just family issues, nothing new. My siblings all drive me crazy, and everyone’s got their own drama going on. Can’t seem to catch a break.”

You pulled your legs up on the couch, “Big family?” you asked. He looked over at you, a hint of humor in his eyes. "Have you ever tried dealing with seven stubborn people under one roof?" you softly chuckled with a small smile, “Yeah, I get it.” Jason's lips tugged into a slight smile at your response, "Yeah, I figured you might.”

Your hand left his back, “You want tea?” he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” It was oddly comforting, how you offered small acts of kindness without asking anything in return. He watched as you placed the tea set on the coffee table, the aroma of the tea starting to fill the room. He found himself strangely at ease, the tension from before slowly seeping away.

“Here you go.” you said as you handed him a cup. Jason accepted the cup of tea from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

You watched as he took a sip, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Feeling any better?" you asked, your voice gentle. Jason paused for a moment, taking another sip of tea before answering. For him, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t judge him or try to fix his problems.

"Yeah," he replied, "A bit. Talking about it helps, I guess." You softly smiled, “You can always talk to me Hood.”

Jason studied your face, noticing the way your soft smile and kind eyes almost made him want to spill all his deepest secrets. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but there was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Like he could trust you with his thoughts and feelings.

As he took another sip of tea, he found himself questioning whether he should reveal his real identity. It would certainly make things easier if you knew his real name… He placed the empty cup on the table, his mind still conflicted. It was a big step, revealing his identity to you. But something inside him urged him to take the risk.

“Jason’s fine.” he mumbles. You looked up at him with a curious glance, “What?”

"Forget the whole Red Hood thing,” he repeated, his voice a bit more clear this time. “You can just call me Jason.” You were stunned for a moment, you didn’t expect him to tell his name so soon— or at all for that matter. Jason could hear his own heartbeat in his chest as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you broke the silence “Then.. you can always talk to me, Jason.”

"Thanks," he replied quietly, the words holding a weight he couldn’t quite explain. "Really."

Over the next several weeks, Jason continued to find himself seeking out your company, the comfort of your presence soothing his troubled mind. Every time he dropped by, he found himself slowly letting down more and more of his walls. The rough exterior he wore like a protective suit was slowly replaced with a softer, more vulnerable one.

In all his years of being Red Hood, of being a vigilante, he had never allowed himself to get close to someone in that way.

But as he spent more time with you, he found himself slowly questioning that belief. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe he was wrong. Maybe love wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. Maybe it was something that could actually make him feel alive for once.

Jason avoided the idea of love, convinced that it was something to be feared and avoided. He had witnessed the pain and heartbreak it could cause, both in his own life and in the lives of others.

And yet, as he got to know you better and better, he found himself gradually starting to question this belief. Your presence had begun to erode the walls he had built around his heart, revealing a vulnerable side of him that he had long thought dead.

He felt his hard stone heart soften around yours.

You opened the blinds on your window, looking at the snow up ahead. “I wonder when spring will come.” you commented. He leaned back in the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Spring can't come soon enough," he muttered, his voice slightly gruff but lacking its usual edge. "I'm getting tired of freezing my ass off every night."

“Well, it’s already the start of the year.” you said.

Jason let out a scoff, his eyes drifting towards the calendar on your wall. Sure enough, the first month of the year was already marked off. "Yeah, and spring is like three months away," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's still a long way to go."

You sighed, “Right.” you said as you closed the blinds. Jason watched as you closed the blinds, shutting out the snowy landscape outside. The room seemed oddly devoid of color without the light filtering through the glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "At least the days are getting longer again," he pointed out, a hint of optimism in his voice. "The nights will get shorter eventually."

"Yeah, that's true," you agreed, "Soon we'll be complaining about how it's too hot instead of too cold."

"Yeah, and then we'll be wishing for winter again," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Never satisfied, are we?" You then remembered something, “Oh, by the way— look what I got for Christmas.” you pulled a box and opened the lead to reveal the record player. "A record player, huh?" he said, a "Who gave you that?"

“My dad,” you replied, “my mom gave me vinyls too.” you smiled as you pulled out a few of them. He leaned closer, peering at the titles you had pulled out. "Let me see..." he said, reaching out to take one of the records from your hand.

You handed him the record, and Jason carefully examined the album cover, running his fingers over the worn edges. He let out a soft scoff as he saw the cover. "Aerosmith, huh?" He said, ”I see your parents have good taste."

You chuckled at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, my dad's a big fan," you replied. "He's always saying that '70s and '80s rock is the best music." you took out some jazz records, “There's these too.”

"Jazz? Your parents really know what they're doing. Good taste in music, that's for sure." he said. You smiled, “I didn’t take you for a jazz guy.”

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he scoffs, his eyes flickering back to you. You took the record from his hands, “Do you want me to play it?” you asked.

“Go for it.” he replied.

You crouched as you carefully placed the record on the turntable, setting the needle gently down. The soft crackle of the vinyl filled the room before the smooth, melodious sounds of the jazz instrumental began to play. You stood back up and looked at him, “What do you think?” Jason listened to the music, a thoughtful expression on his face as he soaked in the mellow tones. "It's nice," he replied.

Your expression softens, “My parents loved dancing to this, I’m glad they gave it to me.” Jason looks at your expression, "You must have a lot of good memories with them.”

"I remember watching them dance to this in the living room. They were so in sync back then, like they were made for each other." Jason listens to your words and pauses for a bit, he then stands up. “Do you want to dance?”

You sheepishly smiled “Oh— no I’m good I don’t know how to dance.” Jason extends his hand, "Dancing isn't exactly rocket science, you know," he said. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two. I’ll take the lead.”

He wasn’t lying, he had a lot of experiences dancing in Bruce’s Galas. "C'mon," he extends his hand further, "It's easy, trust me. I've had plenty of practice." You were complementing to take his hand or not, you then gave up as you took his hand.

Jason smiled as you placed your hand in his. He gently pulled you closer to him, his other hand finding its way to your waist. "Just follow my lead," he instructed, his eyes darting to you.

The music continued to play in the background as Jason slowly began to move, his feet guiding you through the steps. He kept his grip on your waist light but firm, his body slightly brushing against yours with each step. “Like this?” you asked sheepishly. Jason nodded, "Yeah, just like that, doll.”

He moved a bit closer to you, adjusting the position of your other arm.

You huffed, “Last time I did this was like.. high school prom.” Jason huffs, finding your comment amusing. He twirled you around slightly, the movement fluid and elegant. "I'm honored that you're dancing with me instead of some prep school kid.” You stumbled slightly at the unexpected twirl, laughing as you clutched onto him for balance. "I think I prefer dancing with you over some sweaty teenager.”

He huffs, "And why's that?"

“Because I like you.” you simply said.

His heart lurched in his chest at your words, your casual confession sending a flutter through his entire body. "You do, huh?" he asked quietly. “Why would I lie?” you answered. Jason let out a huff, his expression softening as he looked at you. "I don’t know, people lie all the time,” he said, as he looked down. His grip on you grew firmer, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. "But you sound sincere enough."

The air between you felt thick, the music now almost background noise. Jason's eyes were locked with yours, his expression unreadable yet somehow more open than you'd ever seen before. He took a step closer, his chest now touching yours as he gently continued to move you both in time with the music.

Your head then moved to lean on his chest. He held you close, his heartbeat steady and strong under your touch. Slowly, he leaned his head down, his chin resting on the top of your head. It was a vulnerable gesture, one that somehow felt more intimate than the dancing.

The only sound in the room was the steady thump of his heart against your ear and the soft, soothing tones of the instrumentals.

This was love. The feeling of your body against his, the way you leaned on him so trustingly, the sound of his heartbeat in your ears. It all felt so... right. He held you close, his arms encircling your frame as he continued to move with you to the music, his heart full and conflicted.

But there was fear there too. Fear of losing this, of losing you. The thought of something happening to you, of losing this quiet moment filled him with dread. The final notes of the song faded, leaving the room in a silent, intimate embrace.

Jason continued to hold you against his chest, his chin still resting on the top of your head. He didn’t want to let go, his arms around you not loosening even slightly.

He swallowed hard, his voice a low murmur as he broke the silence. "You're a good dancer." you hummed against his chest, “Mm, thanks.” you responded.

🌊 part 2? please like and reblog!!

#౨ৎ blythe’s fics #dc x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader oneshots #jason todd #jason todd oneshots #jason todd fluff #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagines #jason todd headcanons

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hoseoksluna · 3 days ago

Text

THE BALL OF LIGHT, ii. | jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc

genre: angst

word count: 4.2k

summary: inside jeongguk's apartment is where you meet the possibility of life.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: ao3 / wp

warnings: mentions of smoking and vaping, described nudity, oc feels a lot of emotions and she's overwhelmed, guilt.

note: i really enjoyed writing this chapter and it opened my eyes actually to where it's going. i hope you like the chapter as well. writing about jungkook is my biggest comfort. i feel at home. i love you, guys. happy reading. don't forget to tell me what you think. i'd appreciate it if you tell me ur expectations. <3

side note: i also want to update my taglist because i feel like most of the people i tag haven't allowed themselves to be tagged on this app. if you want to be tagged in my works, let me know. in comments below or my askbox.

It seems as though Jeongguk is still turning your words over his heart once you arrive at his apartment and the sullen grayness of his personal space greets you. A certain pensive look, embellished with a wrinkle between his brows, paints him in the shades of stark reclusiveness, the unapproachability of that façade the blue highlights that make the current inertia of his usual hyperactivity uncannily animated. It’s an oxymoron, the stillness of his being, despite the fact you very vividly sense the turmoil happening inside his chest.

Turmoil must be second-nature to him. Almost like a friend.

You don’t know what to say. The downturned corners of his mouth are so engraved into your vision that when you look away, you can still see them. Sad and pouty, caused in most probability by the truth you uttered. War happens, Jeongguk, if Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our home. Those were the most heart-felt, authentic words that were flung out of the chambers of your heart because—yes, if Yoongi were to know that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy with a nicotine-addiction, a motorcycle and a tendency to go back to people who have spread agony down his lungs like the white fumes of his cigarettes, he would get up from the kitchen table and grab the nearest knife, start a war for your dream that, according to him, got interrupted by temporary, meaningless things.

But Jeongguk isn’t meaningless. You thought for the longest time that he was temporary, but his lingering presence through high school and now through uni convinced you of the opposite. You believe now, now as he bends at the waist to place a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers with a yummy fried egg on top in front of your icy-cold, socked feet, that he has more shape—the eyes of an angel born wrong, born human, the mouth of a saint that fears to say the wrong thing—than your dream does.

Your dream doesn’t have a face.

Your dream doesn’t have a meaning, either.

Yoongi knows this, pretends he knows the contours of that dream when he tells you to go study. Pretends he knows the color of its flesh, all the greens, purples and blues, when the only words he throws your way are of commanding nature. Come eat. Go shower. Go study. Don’t. You can’t recollect the last time you had a genuine conversation with him that did not include those very words.

It’s exhausting. Your bones are burdened by it—by being treated as a student and not as a human being. But you ignore this because you respect him, hold him in high regard because of his own burden, laid heavy across the length of his shoulders that have become too thin, too skeletal, that have once been broad, beautiful and ogled by those, who had the luck to encounter him.

He doesn’t go to the gym anymore, to fill the mass of his muscles with exercise. He works long hours doing food delivery to fill your tummy instead.

And it’s hard—balancing your respect for him and your ostensibly inner desire to go in search of the things you read about in your books. You can’t help but expect to dig them out, selfishly, in Jeongguk. The kind, now somber, boy who has been by your side for so long. With words and simultaneously without.

Would Yoongi understand? Doesn’t he, also, have a need for company?

You push those thoughts away and focus on the clandestiny. On Jeongguk’s frown, on his adorable pout, on his emotions. Because perhaps in it you shall find your destiny.

Jeongguk walks forward and you swell with the guilty need to fix what you’ve broken, to glue back the pieces that put together his traditional cheer. The tree in you shivers in cold. Your own bones are still frosty like that bus stop you both escaped from. But glancing at the span of his shoulders, drooped and rolled forward, the guilt expands, making you think that maybe you shouldn’t have said something, despite the fact the truth made a dent in the birdcage you have been dwelling in since the death of your parents.

He empties out his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone, a pack of cigarettes, lighter and a pink, fat vape that you’ve never seen him smoking before. He places those essentials on the kitchen counter, stretching his hands backwards and ridding himself of his beige hoodie. The T-shirt he wears underneath rides up, exposing the smooth and muscled skin of his back, and your throat dries up at the sight. The tree stills, pacified by the movement of his shoulder blades. It puts a spell on you, this innocent yet consumingly heated view of a male’s body, one that continues burning down your body even when he grabs a hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it down.

Somehow, the act made it hotter.

Your fingers wrap around your throat, a habit of yours that helps you compose yourself, ground yourself in the severity of the moment. Jeongguk reaches his hand towards the kitchen counter again and as you swallow with great difficulty, he fills his lungs with that scented fume before discarding it.

It isn’t until your breath comes out in pathetic staccatos that he turns around. Large eyes heavily lidded, clouded by that white smoke as he exhales. He purses his lips, dimples on full show, in order to make the smoke thinner. And that, the eye contact while blowing out the fumes, his full attention on you, the element that you’re here—in a boy’s apartment, all alone, for the first time, that warms up your bones, the frost melting away. You feel your body form little pearls of perspiration, overwhelmed and so suddenly overheated by his boyish beauty.

He’ll never know—just like Yoongi. He’ll never know what he does to you.

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can get warm,” he says, softly, and shuffles his feet towards the brightly lit kitchen. You hear the water running, the clapping noise of the kettle being shut and then the boiling bubbles, but you’re frozen—red-hot and frozen—in the place you’re standing, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to be a normal human being. “You’re free to take a shower if you want.”

A headache pierces through your undeveloped frontal lobe. Nothing about this is normal to you—being over a guy’s place, using his shower and his towel, drinking his tea. Being at home all the time never prepares you for this and while you feel so out of place, it also evokes the feeling of thrill.

This is thrilling.

And it should stay feeling that way, but your guilt eclipses it so quickly. Your guilt and your self-pity. Due to Yoongi, due to the fact that this should feel normal and that you should act normally. How many girls must’ve been in your place and how well they were able to talk to him and accept his kindness and hospitality without being weird about it.

You run a hand down your face. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feeling like slapping yourself so you snap out of it and act normal. Yoongi flickers in your chest, however, and you’re reminded that you should let him know where you are. Usually, at this hour, you’re settled in your cage. Right there in the corner, the only warm spot because you sit there all the time. But you’re not there. You fit your body through the slivers, your feet rubbing against the different, more warmer floor than the one inside your birdcage, while your wrist remains chained to the center.

Your bus, the number 59, never came. Jeongguk’s, number 60, was the last one that came due to the thickness of the snow and he said that you should get on with him so you don’t freeze on the bus stop. I’ll drive you home on my bike, he promised. I got a helmet for you. And you agreed, despite the fact your thumb was ready to dial Yoongi’s number, because it came natural to you to follow a male’s order.

You scratch your fingernails through your scalp, waking yourself up from the stupor, and you take a deep breath. You’re here and you’re safe. Jeongguk is the safest person you can go behind Yoongi’s back with. These are the words you internally repeat to yourself as you lift one leg and the other, watching where they take you.

You wind up at the very edge of the counter where all of Jeongguk’s essentials lay scattered. You go to study all the charms hung over his keys when your fingers, somehow instinctively, take a hold of his pink vape. Light and pink, fitting just right in the palm of your hand. Your clandestine habits are invariably seen by Jeongguk, however.

“Don’t puff on that,” he says, pouring the boiling water inside the kettle over your cup of tea. A Christmas-themed one, evidently for adults only. The taupe Gingerbread man has a raging, bare boner that sticks out to the side whilst his hands are lifted, cheerfully, in the air. Your mouth parts, blush coloring your cheeks in dusty pink, and your brain, bizarrely, connects the Gingerbread man’s emotion to Jeongguk—both emotions, in fact. So bizarrely that anger begins to grow in you because a picture of Jeongguk’s own happy boner pops up before your eyes. Big, hard, leaking. Your stifling heat descends to your lower regions and you have to rub your eyelids in order to stop seeing it, your cheeks scalding, embarrassingly hot. “It’s not good to mix it.”

Without asking, he places one spoon of sugar inside that obscene cup, stirring it diligently. And the clinking noise rams a clapping monkey inside your brain.

You’ll die. From this headache, from the heat, from how irresistible this boy is.

You’ve never felt this way before towards him. Never seen him in this lustful light before. And you don’t know what to do—it’s towering you, so much bigger than you and you have very little strength to stand up to it.

It’s not good to see your so-called friend like this.

Jeongguk brings the cup over to you, placing it before his stuff. The Gingerbread man faces you, smiling ever so gleefully, and the blush of your cheeks deepens within this proximity. Jeongguk takes his vape from your hand and puffs on it—and your brain remembers what he just talked about.

“But you mix it,” you say, your words dripping with confusion, and Jeongguk places the device back into your palm, the tips of his fingers brushing against your flesh. You regard it as intimate, that brief physical contact, and it speeds up your heartbeat.

That touch-starved you are.

“I shouldn’t, but I do,” he responds, his pretty eyelashes static, unblinking, those macadamia chocolate pools of his penetrating your pupils. “I try to stick to just one from time to time, but my nerves are asking for more.”

You look down at the pink device, imagine it’s his hand that you’re closing your fingers over. Think his explanation has zero backbone, and so your confusion drips on.

“Nerves?” you inquire, a wrinkle appearing between your brows akin to his, even though his has been smoothed out. It seems his act of service to you is slowly easing his sombreness.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to elaborate, though. He flicks his eyes towards the cup and nods, just once, encouraging you to drink. You let out a quiet huff of a scoff. Consider it strange that he’s so unwilling to expand on this matter when he has shared with you in the past the reason behind his smoking habit. Trauma from his relationship with Ka-eun and the difficulty of his field. What else is behind those nerves of his that you can’t know about?

You follow the trace of his gaze towards the cup, feeling smaller than you are. Incompetent, inexperienced for the vivacity, immensity of his life that looks nothing like yours. Your pointer finger pokes out, clicking against the emerald green handle.

“Am I supposed to really drink from this?” you murmur, meaning it as a joke that would fix what you cooked in this situation, but it comes out much sadder than you planned, the hollowness from all of your lacks coating your vocal cords.

Jeongguk scowls and turns the cup around, his brows springing upwards as he glances at the naked and aroused Gingerbread man. You begin to anticipate his laughter that would make you feel worse about yourself, but it never breezes through.

Actually, Jeongguk apologizes. Makes a big deal out of it.

“My God,” he sighs, adding your name, running his fingers through his hair before he puts the cup away, but you stop him by enveloping your fingers across the warm, naked skin of his forearm. His eyes widen en route to yours and he holds the misting cup in his hand, immune to its hot temperature. The good ones don’t get burned, your mother would say with hatefulness whenever your fingers would get burned by steaming cups and hot running water in the sink, and she proves you right in this moment. You bet she smiles in her grave, seeing from the afterlife that you are indeed bad while the others are good. “I didn’t notice. I have one just like this, but he’s dressed. I thought I’d pulled out that one. I’m sorry.”

But you’re not scandalized by it. As a matter of fact, you like the little Christmas man—there’s something oddly comforting about his own comfort in his sexuality, smiling as gleefully as he is. What you said was a stupid joke, one that shouldn’t have left your mouth.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s fine. It was just a joke,” you say, hurriedly, sweeping your eyes over his in the same pace whilst he remains calmly staring at you, a steady stream of thoughts filtering through those features of his that you wish you knew the contents of.

You always said you’d die for knowledge, and right now you’d die to discover what he’s thinking about, looking at you the way that he is.

He flattens his lips. “I’ll make you another one.”

He turns around and you yelp your disagreement, cupping your hands around his. And the greater intimacy of this physical contact consumes you whole.

The heat grows, your spine wet with perspiration. Jeongguk swivels his head back, the shorter pieces of his hair swooshing past his forehead, landing on those pretty, pretty eyelashes. And it’s his turn to part his mouth, for blush to creep up his pale cheeks, and your heart—it melts.

You’ve never held hands with a boy before. And right now, you’ve come very close to doing it. In fact, the tender grip bears the resemblance of hand holding and you can’t take it.

A pained, indistinct pout quivers on your lips. A characteristic expression of yours, which conveys that something has hurt you. Your mother would give you a hard time because of it and that’s how you learned that you do it. That’s how you learned how to fleetly hide it, too.

This is the closest you’ll ever get.

Tears rush to your waterline. You blink it away, stretching your lips into a little, neutral smile. The scent of cinnamon and cloves from the tea hits your nostrils and from the edges of your palms, you feel how hot the cup really is. It sobers you up quite rapidly.

“It’s hot, set it down,” you breathe and don’t let go of his hands until Jeongguk complies, the pensiveness back to shadowing his face, but he’s not unapproachable, not at all. The entirety of his dispirited and contrite aura is welcoming, pastel blue instead of that grayish undertone, and he looks at you as if you held the entire world in your palms and he was content with just being near it, silently hoping you show him grace and give it to him.

But that’s not you. You’re too small to cup this world. Too stupid, too unfledged.

It’s him who’s flown around it, deeply acknowledged with it. Who’s smart, who’s a full-fledged bird, unlimited and unhindered.

It’s you who should be looking at him like that and drinking from his vulgar cup.

And you shall.

“I’ll drink it, it’s cute.”

He doesn’t trust it, though, and that’s the scar Ka-eun carved into the flesh of his mind. You brush the pads of your fingers across it, however, when you take the scalding cup to your lips, blow on it and take a small, hesitant sip of it. And the wintry taste of cinnamon and cloves, it is the sap to your tree.

You hum in delight, taking another sip, even though the temperature burns the tip of your tongue. You watch as Jeongguk’s brows twitch and as a certain glimmering glint of endearment laced with unbelief fills his eyes with the canvas of stars. He straightens his spine while you swallow, his lungs inhaling and exhaling slowly but surely.

It is a sight to behold, the entirety of his boyish beauty. And you hate that you regard him this way, that your forced visit caused this because you’ll walk out of this door with a longing entwined around your heart.

A longing for him to be yours.

You set the cup down, cradling it in your palms, your sweat clinging to your body. Jeongguk averts his gaze and rubs his chest, roaming his eyes everywhere but on you, landing on the pink vape you placed on the counter before almost-holding his hand.

But he doesn’t take a puff of it. Not this time.

And you want to heal that scar of his even more. Only because he pushed you very close to the things you read in your books and always wanted to experience.

“I think the tea tastes so good because you made it in this cup,” you chirp, tenderly, giving him a genuine smile, one that Jeongguk doesn’t reciprocate. That one corner of his mouth doesn’t lift, the long cleft of his dimple doesn’t appear. Your heart trembles for a brief moment. In a foreign kind of emotion that feels like fear but isn’t because the turmoil in him rages on and you’re useless. Completely and utterly useless in your efforts.

His stare is deadly, marked by the depth of his thoughts.

“Why did you say war happens if you and your brother see each other outside?” he asks, his tone low and grumbling.

A frightening question. Because no one has ever asked you that. Because you’ve never had the chance to answer such an intimate, personal question. Because no one has ever cared about your home situation.

The trembling of your heart reaches your entire body and you hide your hands behind your back. Lament that you can’t cradle the cup. Lament that you can’t drink it and postpone your response. Lament that you don’t have a normal life. One worth talking about happily, that is.

You don’t know what to say. How to begin, how to string the words together in a way that he would understand. And it’s not that you fear that he will judge you; it’s that you fear that the way he looks at you, regards you will forever change.

You were never the cool girl and you never were the weird girl, either. Somewhere in the middle you stand, solitary and detached, regardless.

You open your mouth, willing the words to spring out of you on their own, without any careful thoughts to cover them.

“Yoongi wants me to live a life that doesn’t look like this,” you start, mirroring his tone, unable to look him in the eye. You sense the demons of your guilt and your ungratefulness cornering you, coming closer and closer—and you can’t walk away, you can only speak.

Jeongguk, however, is quick and curt with his following question.

“Like what?”

The pearls of your perspiration thicken on the planes of your throat, which constricts. You blink, thinking that you don’t wish to offend him with any formulation of your sentences. So you go around it, hoping he understands. The demons inch closer—and you can’t breathe.

Jeongguk doesn’t blink, focused intently as he is on the emotions written on your form. It creates a delicate, yet protective ring around you that keeps the demons outside. And he lessens your strange fear owing to that.

“He wants me to focus on school and focus on my dream while he takes care of everything else. It was a deal he made between us. I study, he works. Nothing else,” you continue, and Jeongguk bites his lip, nodding in understanding as he glides his eyes down your face to your sweat-coated neck. For some reason, that little act of his acknowledgement dispels those demons—and you no longer feel guilty, you no longer feel ungrateful because Jeongguk validated those emotions, didn’t scrunch his nose at them. And that heals, little by little, your wounded, flightless bird wings.

“What does your dream look like?” he asks once again, and you wonder at the formulation of his question. It’s not what’s your dream; he’s asking for a description of the biggest mystery of your life.

And you chuckle, humorlessly. Jeongguk flicks his gaze back to your eyes, seemingly not knowing what to expect.

“That’s the thing,” you say. “I don’t know what it looks like, and Yoongi doesn’t know either.”

The roundness of his eyelids spasms, as if the truth you just uttered irks him. The validation grows and buds of blossoms sprout open, in the middle of this sunless winter, upon the twigs of the tree within you.

“He doesn’t know what your dream is and yet he decided how you should live,” Jeongguk scoffs, shaking his head, and you marvel at the light bursting in your sternum. It is the sun to your growth, to your tree’s growth.

A moment of bliss that is too brief, for you begin to sense an uncompromising responsibility to stand up for your brother. He means well—he’s doing it out of the love and kindness of his heart as the root of this declared problem is literature.

And literature is your life. It’s all you know.

You begin to say these words, but Jeongguk interrupts you.

“I understand, but you need to live a life that you want to live,” he rasps, standing taller than he was a minute ago, greater and powerful than he ever was. That confident and assured he is in his opinion and you gawk at him as if he were a cult leader, about to change the course of your life. Maybe, just maybe, the cinnamon tea was the kool aid—and you want to drink again, but you’re ashamed of the trembling of your hands. “And if you feel like you’re indebted to him, you shouldn’t. You’re an adult. It’s your life, it’s not his just because he’s older.”

Your throat dries and you risk it all, enveloping your fingers around the cup. Jeongguk’s all seeing eye notices your movement and his powerfulness drops. He sighs, rubbing his eyes.

Bare, bare you are all for him to see. For anyone for the first time in your life—and at this point, you don’t even know how it makes you feel.

Where light and so many emotions were inside you, emptiness falls like fine dust. You’re reminded of that one sentence in White Nights and, quietly, you reflect on it while your fingers tremble on.

My God, a moment of bliss. Why isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime?

Jeongguk makes space, like the ring of protection he created around you, by taking a few steps back and leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest and simply looks at you, reads your body language, and lingers at your hands. At the fact you don’t drink. At the fact you don’t speak. At the fact that nothing will ever be the same after this conversation.

When he asks his last question, he softens his voice. His demeanor, too. Allows his arms to plummet down to his sides. Sags against the counter.

“He doesn’t know we’re friends, does he?”

Something that resembles a cry leaves your mouth and you’re so shocked by the freedom of your emotions that your hand leaps to cup your mouth, as if to hold back any more outpouring. That is your reaction.

Jeongguk’s is more earth-shattering.

By his instinct, he lengthens his spine and his hand… his beautiful, strong and veiny hand jerks towards your direction, as if to catch your hand, prevent it from hiding your outpouring—or as if to catch your outpouring alone.

And it is so heartbreaking to you that you mutter the first thing that comes to your mind and run away.

And you don’t realize where you are until you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A mascara tear stains your cheek in blackness, and the smallness of the bathroom encloses around you.

You want to wash it away. Feel like the decision is yours to make, a right one at that. Feel like it’s the first step in the new way Jeongguk bestowed over your life by his wise words. And so you undress.

And you don’t lock the door.

And you don’t hear your phone ringing ten minutes later.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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amazinglyashy · 1 day ago

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Omg hiiiii i love reading your stories and hcs❤️❤️❤️ just read the one about how the LaDS boys would react to your fictional bf (love that jumin made an appearance lolol) and was thinking, what do you think their reactions would be if your fictional crush was the OPPOSITE of them. Like zaynes MC loves a yoosung type, or sylus's loves a 707 type. Sorry if you're not taking requests or this has already been done!

It's funny you say that, because I'm literally the opposite of every single thing my own partner has ever looked for in a girl. Like, every single thing. Coincidentally, I'm also his longest relationship and the only reason he hasn't proposed is because we both want him to secure a job in his field first. Ya girl may have a ring on her finger in a year at the soonest-- LOVE this prompt, hope you enjoy!!

LaDS when your fictional partner is the opposite type they are -

Rafayel -

It's going to go to his head, sorry to say.

There is no stopping it, it's gone straight to his head.

He's so smug to find out that your fictional boyfriend is absolutely nothing like himself- making some vaguely confusing comment about just how much your subconscious must remember loving him in the past, and how determined it must be to bring the two of you together.

That and how he totally and completely owned whoever this Lucifer guy is on your phone.

Details matter not to him.

"Wow, I knew I was pretty good, but I didn't know how much of a catch I truly was until you reeled me in, haha!"

"What."

"Nothing, cutie, just talking about how I totally own every single type of guy."

The more you talk to him, the more confused you get, to the point where you honestly stop trying. But hey, at least he seems happy..?

You guess that's all the matters.

Xavier -

Zayne -

It gives him just a shred of self doubt in how much you truly like him, but otherwise, he's happy about it.

To him, it feels like you must truly love him if you chose him and his personality over anything that you've ever picked before in a love interest, fictional or otherwise.

Occasionally will ask you whether or not you like a certain aspect about himself - that's where a lot of the doubt plays a role. But after much assurance and some quiet pouting, he'll believe you.

He'll have mild "arguments" with whoever your main fictional partner is that's so different from him, partly because it helps him blow off some steam, and partly because it makes you laugh.

"Why don't you tell the weird stalker guy in your book that you like me better because I gave you extra tokens on the claw machine? Why are you laughing? Do it!"

He is ultimately just happy you're happy, though, even if he is a butt about it sometimes.

Absolutely thinks its cute.

He's a little bit surprised that you went for someone like him, especially if there are multiple characters that are starkly the opposite of Zayne that you enjoy or consider a fictional partner or crush to any degree.

Sylus -

But he also doesn't put too much weight on it- he's never been too big on 'types' or anything. He knows you're his, but he also thinks people who are meant to find each other will find each other, regardless of appearances or personality.

He doesn't necessarily believe in soul mates or things like that, but he does think adjancently.

He has a lot of fun pointing out things he does that are the opposite of what your fictional partner would do- and yes, it's mostly to show you just how much he pays attention to the things you like in great detail.

It will be at the most random of times as well, without any prior prompting from you, so you definitely know how serious he is about it--

He definitely notices it the second you show him the character and describe them to him.

It's got to be one of the funniest things he's heard come out of your mouth.

He has to have a mental debate on whether or not he mentions his observation to you or not- wondering if he leaves it alone if he'll get to hear even more fun differences between him and the fictional other without you even realizing what's happened.

He stays quiet on it for a couple of weeks, but then you bring up something else that's so glaringly different from himself, he can't hold back the chuckle that comes from his mouth the next moment.

Upon your questioning, he'll ask you to repeat yourself and consider the same circumstance with your... current boyfriend.

When you don't process what he's trying to get at, he'll hover over you, with his arm holding the back of your chair past you head, leaning down to smile as he holds your gaze.

"I just think it's sweet how... different, I am- compared to your little fictional boyfriend, sweetie. I guess that goes to show just how determined fate was to bring us together."

#love and deepspace #.writey #lads #lds #x reader #sylus x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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aealzx · 2 days ago

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_______________________

Update Post

Prologue | AO3

Previous Next

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“Everything’s fine, Danny just wanted to join us for lunch,” Tim declared when he entered the dining room with Danny. It wasn’t the complete truth, but it was still better than telling them they had left Danny without enough water and he had collapsed trying to get it himself.

“Oh! You’re finally ready for something other than toast, huh?” Stephanie asked as everyone’s mood seemed to lift with that declaration.

“Y’yeah… It’d be nice to get back to eating anything I wanted,” Danny agreed, going along with the reason Tim had provided as Tim helped him get situated in an open chair next to Danielle, who gave him a thumbs up. Seeing, and smelling the food the others had made him realize he actually was a little hungry as well as thirsty.

“You’ll love Alfred’s cooking, trust me,” Tucker chimed in around his own lunch. It looked like they had some sort of creamy soup and small sandwiches.

“Pretty sure that’s what I’ve been having already,” Danny snickered.

“Yeah, but this is actual food,” Tucker corrected.

“Just don’t push yourself,” Jazz cautioned, not wanting Danny to make himself sick even though he hadn’t had any issues lately. It was a comment that helped Tim understand a little more why Danny was so bad at asking for help.

As soon as Danny had been brought to the table Alfred had left the dining room to fetch lunch for him as well, soon to return with another tray of food. Unlike the others though, the bowl was full of a mild tomato soup that was pleasantly warm. And that and a small plate of two slices of lightly buttered toast were placed in front of Danny along with a glass of water. It was a welcome change from the broth he’d been getting, and Danny couldn’t help smiling.

“Thank you,” Danny was sure to bid, looking up gratefully at Alfred.

“You’re welcome, Young Master,” Alfred responded, pleased to see their house charge feeling well enough to join them at the table.

“He still looks a bit like death warmed over,” Jason commented casually before putting a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

“That’s rich coming from the dead man walking,” Danielle returned just as easily.

“Morticians wish they could match my liveliness,” Jason retorted, raising a hand to frame his face for a moment.

“Guys, could we not do the dead jokes? You’re gonna make people hole up,” Stephanie chided, noting how others at the table were grimacing or otherwise looking rather sullen.

“Oh come on. You have three dead people at the table. It’s not that insensitive,” Danielle protested.

“Dani, I dont think it's a comfortable topic for everyone,” Jazz hushed, glancing towards Bruce, who’s expression was looking significantly distant.

Danny hadn’t commented in favor of blowing on the tomato soup enough that he could eat it, and then was distracted by the surprisingly gentle yet rich flavor from the simple food. It definitely made the trip to the dining room worth it, though Danielle’s comment made him end up looking around at the others in mild confusion. She obviously meant him and herself for two of the people, but who was the third? He realized it was rude after he was caught, but he couldn’t help looking towards the girl with ashen skin and black hair. Wait… who was that again?

“No, it’s not Raven. It’s me,” Jason snickered slightly, pointing to himself and grinning slightly.

“....You don’t look dead,” Danny admitted, subconsciously comparing Jason to the other ghosts he’d had to deal with over the years.

“Not anymore,” Jason clarified, sparing the others at the table, and inevitably himself, the trauma trip by keeping the explanation simple.

“He died before though. That’s why he has that weird vibe not like anyone else,” Danielle added, sounding rather proud for knowing that now. “Figured that one out finally.”

“Hn,” Danny hummed around some toast, figuring if he got the option to ask about more details he’d have to do it with a smaller crowd.

“It's good to see you up and about now though kid. How are you feeling?” someone with red hair that Danny also didn’t recognize decided to change the subject to.

“.... Okay,” Danny answered, squinting slightly trying to remember who this person was also. “Better than a few days ago at least.”

“Good, good.”

“This is Wally, and Raven,” Dick spoke up after noticing Danny getting increasingly confused trying to place names to the new faces. “They both were a big help with your recovery, and we figured since you were starting to feel better we could start trying to figure out how to get you guys back home. Both of them are familiar with interdimensional travel, and Wally is pretty knowledgeable about the mechanical side of things while Raven is more versed in the mystical.”

“Oh. Are you guys going to build another portal? I guess that makes sense,” Danny acknowledged, now understanding who the new faces were.

“Well, that depends,” Wally admitted, grimacing a little. “From the sounds of it, with talking to Raven and some others, it doesn’t sound like even attempting to open a portal to the Liminal Realm is a good idea.”

“She mentioned before that attempts usually end up with some sort of explosion or implosion,” Jazz recalled.

“But she was able to do it just fine, wasn’t she? That’s how she got the ectoplasm,” Tucker pointed out.

“That was only because Dani and you two were present. And because I closed the gateway before it could react,” Raven clarified, and Danny noticed her hand seemed to have a residual injury that made him frown. “The gateway was also only one way. I was able to accept the gift it was giving to Dani, but if I’d tried to send anything through it in return I’m sure it would have broken down.”

“And based on the research Barry and I did, there isn’t much for anyone in this dimension to go off of when it comes to the Liminal Realm. It’s only really known as the most fussy realm to deal with, and most people don’t bother,” Wally concluded, only a little upset about the matter. “Which is why we wanted to ask you about how your parents were able to make a portal that’s permanently open. Everyone else said you’d know the most about that topic.”

Danny inevitably grimaced a little at that fact, not feeling like he knew much about how his parents had made the portal to the Infinite Realm either. But if it would help them get back to his parents, then he could at least try to help. “They’re not the greatest at documenting their work, but I guess I did get curious enough to look into it a little some time ago. What do you want to know?”

“Do you have any idea how the portal was constructed?” Wally prompted.

“Trial and error?” Danny grimaced again, and backtracked when Wally looked unimpressed. “Look, my parents took notes, sure, but they weren’t organized and I’m not completely sure which ones were part of the final product. I won't be able to tell you exactly how to build one.”

“That’s fine, I wasn’t expecting you to have a blueprint memorized,” Wally chuckled, not sure if Danny was being vague on purpose, or just hadn’t worked with anyone before on constructing anything. “You can just tell us what you remember, and we can try to fill in the blanks and figure out if it’s a viable option. Jazz said it was a structure on the wall in your home basement?”

“Mm,” Danny nodded around a mouthful of soup. “It looks flat when it’s on, but it’s actually a tunnel about… maybe the length of this table?” he guessed, squinting slightly as he tried to remember. “I think they changed the size of it several times, the first prototype was only about this size,” he added, gesturing to a tabletop model size in front of him. “It’s about… 2 meters in diameter? The measurement isn’t exact- is this what you want to know?”

Both Wally and Raven were listening intently to Danny’s descriptions, and Wally blinked when Danny interrupted himself to clarify again if he was saying anything useful. “Yeah, it’s great. Anything you know about it will help, even if you think it’s not important.”

“Would it help if we tried to recreate what they can remember in a 3D space?” Tim spoke up suddenly, noting how Danny seemed to be struggling in explaining in words something he’d only dealt with in physical space.

“We can do that? I’m not exactly… a sculptor or whatever,” Danny asked, fumbling over his thoughts and words as he was once again starting to feel incredibly dumb.

“We’ll have to go to the basement, but the computer down there should allow you to draw a hologram of sorts based on what you remember. That way we can see what you’re thinking, more or less,” Tim explained, then inevitably glanced over Danny’s form briefly. “If you’re up for it of course. We don’t want to push-”

“No. It’s fine, I’ll do it,” Danny agreed quickly, not sure how to accept Danielle trying to reassure him by placing a hand on his arm for a moment. She knew her brother tended to get flustered in anything that resembled an academic setting, but wasn’t sure how to convince him he wasn’t as dumb as his school told him he was.

“Cool. We can head down there after lunch,” Tim nodded, returning to his own meal.

__________________

You ever have hair that's 100% def too short to get in your food when you're eating, but you still push it out of the way anyway? Yeah I'll admit this drawing was 100% self indulgent 'cause I remember seeing a similar drawing of a different chara before and just loving it XD I love when charas get drawn doing really subtle but oh so casually human things.

Anyway, tomato soup with bread is my favorite food ever, so I tend to default to that when charas get some notably "good food" or comfort food for once.

fast update because this is part of that bug chunk I had to split into 3 parts XD just had to get a drawing

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai,

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira

#my art #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #phantom rogues #tomato soup #comfort food #the worst thing about posting these is all the tags #writing #long post #fanfic

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becausebuckley · 21 hours ago

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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 46!

another week, another rec list! before we dive in, though, i have a request: please have a look at this fic description and help anon find it!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a lighthouse in the fog | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 6.8k | T

The one where Buck wakes up after surgery and realizes that Tommy doesn't meet his emotional needs. i love the descriptions of buck and what he's feeling and experiencing here!! so so good

all my little words | youbetsya/@fleabagdiaz | 11.4k | T

Eddie: Did you just send me an email?? Buck: yeah lol (in which buck and eddie email while eddie is in el paso). email correspondence my beloved!! i love how well this captures their voices and dynamic through emails and texts. such a lovely fic <3

a straight guy and an ally walk into a bar... | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 23.2k | M

After Buck gets dumped, he remembers he agreed to go to Abby's wedding with a date. Eddie steps up and pretends to be his boyfriend. All hell breaks loose. buddie fake dating!! shenanigans!! this is unhinged and also soft and i love it so much. the scene where taylor pops up had me laughing so hard. brilliant!

bad idea, right? | brewrosemilk/@gayhoediaz| 6.8k | E

Buck stumbles across Eddie's grindr profile. no no this is the BEST idea actually. the coding is brilliant, this looks so so good, and it's also just fantastically written!

darling (you're the one i want) | archerincombat | 2.5k | G

Eddie keeps buying Buck gifts and Buck keeps not getting the idea. friends to fiances! barnes and noble! flowers! this fic has everything!! loved reading this <3

giving way to labored breath | serenelystrange/@serenelystrange | 1.5k | T

In which falling in love was the easy part, and learning how to actually be together is another beast entirely. They work it out. blanket rec for an author whose work i've really been enjoying this week <3 this one in particular is such a brilliant look at buck and eddie getting together <3

i could give you fifty reasons | marviless/@marviless | 15.7k | T

buck is on a mission to help eddie recover his self-confidence. it goes well for exactly zero parties involved. this might not go well for anyone who's actually involved but it went very very well for me <3 i love buck being earnest and a little embarrassing and so very full of love for eddie!!

if you love me right, then who knows? | ipretendtobesane/@userbuddie | 3.4k | E

buck and eddie stumble upon a feminization kink, and eddie really likes his boyfriend's tits. there's something about buddie playing around with feminisation that just hits so hard. this is so so good!!

love in the shock of lightning | justhockey | 4k | T

It was real. It had happened. It had happened to Buck, and to Eddie, and to see it again…to be confronted with it so abruptly, without any time to steel himself against the memories of that night? Eddie had almost collapsed to his knees then and there. hmmm yes spec fic we love to see it!! and stress baking! loveliest emotional hurt/comfort getting together fic <3

never seen a bluer sky | Chash/@ponyregrets | 1.9k | T

"Hey, what brings you joy?" Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper. buck and eddie finding joy my beloved <3 this hits the spot just right!!

promise you'll put your hand in my hand | farfromthstars/@doeeyeseddie | 4k | T

5 times buck and eddie hold hands platonically, and 1 time they don't. holding hands <3 so fluffy so sweet so so lovely <3

put on a slow dumb show for you | fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuck | 2.3k | T

they’re sleepy and a little drunk and buck’s one step behind. do i even need to say how much i love bed sharing fics? like i think you all know that by now lmao. anyway this one in particular hits that fluff and crack spot so perfectly and i love it so very much <3

since forever | @hotshotsxyz | 1.3k

the loveliest tumblr fic!! soft and sweet indeed <3 this eddie is brilliant!

skin still wet (still on my skin) | marrows | 6.2k | E

Buck’s hand is on his thigh. Eddie chokes on his beer, eyes fixed on the curl of Buck’s fingers, tucked in just above his knee to where his skin meets the sofa. He hadn’t noticed, how hadn’t he even noticed? 8xo6 codas haven't failed me yet lol and this is one of my favourites!! it follows the episode so naturally <3 also another appearance of buck's praise kink, my best friend yay

somebody i can kiss | Rianne/@rianneeyre | 7.9k | E

Buck might be a little touch-starved. And he knew that, but he was not prepared to deal with how the knowledge would interact with his newfound awareness of his crush on—no, realistically, his undying love for Eddie. [...] The point is, he should not spend Christmas on a fucking sleepover with Eddie. But he’s gonna. christmas sleepover <3 i for one cannot wait to drown in holiday fics soon and i already know i'll be revisiting this over the next few weeks. this is soft and spicy and just absolutely brilliant <3

take the bed warmed by the body | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 2.5k | T

It’s three parts bravado and one part reminder. He thinks about it, sometimes, his first shift at the 118—he doesn’t think either of them quite knew how much they’d meant it when they’d promised to have each other’s backs. He definitely hadn’t known, then, that he’d wake up one day and wonder why Buck isn’t in his bed. i love this twist on sharing a bed so very much <3 so brilliantly them!!

that kind of music just soothes the soul | KejfeBlintz/@kejfeblintz | 1.8k | G

Settling back into the corner of his couch with a happy sigh, Eddie let the fizz of excitement from his impromptu dance party hum beneath his skin. He had done something joyful for himself and had been rewarded with his best friend and a six pack of beer appearing on his doorstep. He’d danced and the world hadn’t ended. he'd danced and the world hadn't ended!! lovely episode coda and such a well-written eddie <3

through the looking glass | jukoist | 6.4k | G

Buck likes Tommy. He does! And he definitely isn't in love with Eddie. He's just... worried. Because Eddie keeps vanishing on Sundays, leaving Buck with the boyfriend he definitely likes as much as he should. Everything is fine. the dialogue in this fic is particularly great <3 lovely lovely fic!!

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #911 abc #911 fic #911 fic rec #michelle’s recs #fic rec list #so many fics!!#it's been a good reading week #also! anon who asked for specific recs i gotcha <3 will share some when i have a moment to put them together!

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wonsiwon · 3 days ago

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canvas | P.S.H

sinopsis | When Sunghoon’s jealousy over his best friend’s relationship with other guys leads to a heated argument, emotions spill over, revealing feelings neither of them had ever confessed. After accidentally destroying a piece of art that meant everything to his friend, Sunghoon’s guilt leads him to finally admit the truth: he’s been in love with them all along.

pairing | bestfriend!jealous! sunghoon x painter!bestfriend!reader

genre | angst, fluff

You and Sunghoon have been best friends since you were kids, practically growing up together because your families are so close. You guys are pretty much glued at the hip, and every Friday is your thing. After school, you hit up your art academy, then head over to his place, just two houses away, super convenient. You spend the night watching movies, messing around, and just cracking up until you’re both in stitches.

You both keep to your group, but somehow end up in each other’s orbit all the time. There’s always that playful vibe between you two, like you both might have had a cute little crush on each other at some point, but never really talked about it. You’d catch him staring at you from across the room and pretend you didn’t notice, or he’d tease you when you tried to act all serious about an assignment. The kind of teasing where it’s obvious there’s something more, but you’re both too chill to ever make it awkward.

There’s that unspoken thing, something that feels light, easy, and maybe a little more than friendship, but neither of you wants to ruin the vibe. It’s more fun this way, right?

There had always been moments with Sunghoon that left you second-guessing everything, like when he’d act a little too protective or make comments that seemed to hint at something more. It felt confusing because he’d send mixed signals. One minute, he’d say things like, “That guy’s not good enough for you,” and the next, he’d do something that made you question if it was just his way of looking out for you or if he actually had feelings. You wanted to believe there was something more there, especially when he made sure to veto every guy you tried to bring around. But things shifted the day you saw him texting other girls.

That moment left you feeling off. It made you wonder if you were imagining everything or if it was just the weird back-and-forth that came with your friendship.

That day you were carrying around your unfinished masterpiece from class. The teacher had given you some extra time to work on it, so as you walked down the street toward his house. When you reached his front yard, you didn’t even need to knock on the door. It was always left unlocked for you, just like the countless times before, like you’d always been welcome. You could just walk in, no questions asked.

You found him sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand, eyes glued to the screen. As always, he didn’t even look up when you walked in, but you could tell he’d heard the door creak open. It was just the way he was, relaxed, laid-back. You cleared your throat, just enough to get his attention, and watched as his gaze shifted toward you. That half-smile tugged at his lips, his eyes flicking from his phone to you. You could swear you saw his fangs just barely showing as he grinned.

“Hey” he said, his voice casual, almost distracted.

“Hey” you replied, setting the big Canva project covered with a plastic bag down on the coffee table in front of him. Your eyes flicked to his phone for a brief second, a little nagging feeling creeping in.

“What’s that? Is it what you’ve been working on?” he asked, tossing his phone to the side before standing up. You couldn’t help but notice how tall he was. Sunghoon was just massive compared to you, and when he stood up, his presence seemed to tower over you.

You nodded, trying to keep your voice casual. “Yeah.”

“Can I see?” He leaned over, trying to get a better look at the canvas, but you instinctively pushed it away just a little.

“Nope, you can’t. It’s not finished.”

“C’mon, just a quick look.” he urged, trying to get a glimpse.

You shook your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Nope.”

“Man, it’s not like I haven’t seen your drawings before,” he teased, sitting back on the couch. “I still have the one you gave me when we were kids, you know. Pretty sure that’s more embarrassing than whatever you’ve got now.”

“You still have those?” You blinked, honestly impressed that he’d kept them for so long.

“Yeah.” he said with a shrug, a small grin appearing. “I’ve got them in a box somewhere.”

The mention of those old drawings made something tighten in your chest, a mixture of nostalgia and awkwardness. You never thought he’d keep those silly little sketches from when you were kids, but hearing him talk about it so casually… it made you realize how much you meant to him without him ever having to say it outright.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the slight smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re such a dork.”

“Hey, don’t knock it.” he replied, giving you a mock-offended look. “They were masterpieces.”

You shook your head, laughing quietly. “Sure, Sunghoon. Sure.”

“Okay, fine. But you’ve gotta show me that masterpiece when it’s done, alright?”

“Yeah, sure. When it’s actually worth showing.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, looking over at you, his smile softening. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know that?”

You shifted uncomfortably, shrugging it off with a casual wave of your hand. “I don’t know, just feels like it’s never good enough.”

“Pfft. That’s nonsense.” he said, leaning forward slightly, the teasing gone from his voice. “You’re way better than you think. I’ve seen you work. It’s pretty damn impressive.”

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. You were used to Sunghoon’s casual compliments, but this time, it felt a little more sincere, like he meant it more than usual. It made you feel… weirdly exposed.

“Thanks.” you mumbled, hoping the awkwardness wouldn’t last too long.

Sunghoon, however, didn’t seem to notice the shift in your mood. He grabbed the remote, flicking on the TV. “Anyway, let’s not talk about art. Let’s watch something. You wanna pick?”

“Sure.” You both tossed yourselves onto the couch, the familiar comfort of his home surrounding you. The couch was a bit cramped for two, but it was your usual spot. Sunghoon grabbed a pillow and hugged it against his chest as he sprawled out, making himself comfortable, while you sat next to him, a little too aware of how close you were.

The movie started, but Sunghoon’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence. He didn’t even look at it, keeping his focus on the screen, while you couldn’t help but notice the buzzing. You knew it was probably one of those girls again. Annoyed and clearly jealous you glanced at Sunghoon. This time, though, he was looking down at the canvas you’d brought.

“It’s Jake’s face.” you blurted out without thinking, like a jeaand immediately, you saw his face change.

You smirked, watching Sunghoon’s face shift from his usual laid-back expression to something more… irritated. Bingo. You knew exactly how to push his buttons.

“Why would you draw that motherfucker’s face?” he asked, his voice laced with attitude, clearly annoyed.

“Because he’s cute?” You shrugged, trying to sound casual, but inside, you were kind of enjoying this. It was fun to see how much Sunghoon could get worked up over something so silly.

Jake was the kind of guy who always tried to win your attention, asking you out on casual dates, always being sweet and charming. But you didn’t really feel anything for him. He was nice, sure, but no one could beat Sunghoon, not in your eyes. However, the way Sunghoon reacted when he saw you even talk to Jake was kind of hilarious, and you couldn’t help but tease him about it.

You hadn’t actually painted Jake’s face on the canvas. That was just a bluff. You loved to see Sunghoon’s reaction, especially when it came to things like this. You were a little curious, though, how far you could push it.

“So what? He’s not good for you.” Sunghoon said, sounding a bit defensive, like he was genuinely concerned.

“Oh, c’mon, you always say that.” you chuckled, rolling your eyes, trying to downplay it.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “You deserve someone better.”

You blinked at him, your teasing grin faltering for a moment. You brush it off and laugh. “Yeah, well,” you said, trying to mask the unexpected warmth you were feeling. “You don’t always know what’s best for me.”

Sunghoon tilted his head, raising an eyebrow, that signature smirk creeping back onto his face. “I think I do.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, Mr. Know-It-All.”

You leaned back against the couch, continuing to watch the movie, but Sunghoon’s thick eyebrows were furrowed the entire time. Every guy you had ever been with wasn’t good enough in his eyes. He didn’t like any guy that got close to you, or flirted with you, even when he was right there with you. It was like he hated seeing you with anyone else, but it wasn’t enough to stop them. They kept doing it, like they knew that you and Sunghoon were just friends.

Jake. The thought of him, even just from the little joke you’d made with the canvas, seemed to make Sunghoon’s jaw tighten. The frustration was clearly building in his face. He was about to lose it, but you didn’t stay long enough to catch it.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” you said quickly after a few minutes have passed, walking away toward the bathroom downstairs.

Without hesitation, Sunghoon grabbed the canvas off the coffee table, holding it in his hands without a second thought. The black plastic bag was still covering it, hiding whatever you’d drawn, but that didn’t matter to him. He didn’t want to see what was under it. He just needed to get rid of it.

He stood up and walked to the yard, his steps steady but tense. His grip on the canvas was firm, and he didn’t care to look at the artwork, it was the principle of it. You hadn’t even finished it, and yet, it was enough to make him act like this.

He grabbed the firelighter and without a second thought, flicked it open. The flame danced in his hand for a moment before he started walking toward the small firepit in the yard.

He wasn’t going to let Jake’s face, or anything that symbolized you with another guy, stay in his presence. He was going to burn it, destroy it. Just like he had destroyed every other reminder of you and any guy you’d shown interest in.

It wasn’t about the artwork. What bothered him was that you’d even considered another guy enough to paint his face. Jake, the guy who had tried to flirt with you before, who had been around more than he liked. And that gnawing feeling in his chest wasn’t just about jealousy, it was about something he wasn’t sure how to name.

It was about something else entirely. Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

His fingers gripped the canvas wrapped in plastic, his jaw tight as he stared down at it. For a second, he considered stopping, pretending like it didn’t bother him, but he couldn’t. His mind was too clouded with jealousy. You were his best friend, and every time another guy came up, it felt like he was losing something.

He took the wrapped canvas to the firepit. The flames were already hungry when the plastic caught. As the fire slowly devoured the canvas, a wave of relief washed over him, but it didn’t last long. He heard your footsteps behind him, and before he knew it, you were right there next to him.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was sharp, filled with disbelief. The water hose was in your hand before Sunghoon could even react, the cold spray hitting the burnt canvas in an attempt to save what little remained.

“Why would you do that?” you asked again, your chest tight with frustration and confusion.

His jaw tightened, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. You could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense, like it was digging into you, trying to figure something out. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice low but steady.

“Do you like him or what?” he asked, the words hanging in the air like a challenge

“What?” You were out of breath, confused.

“Jake,” Sunghoon muttered, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You were dripping wet from the hose, completely caught off guard.

“Every time you talk about him, every time you get all excited”

You froze, You were dripping wet from the hose, completely caught off guard. The shock registered first, but then it was quickly replaced with something you couldn’t ignore: the sting of his jealousy, but you couldn’t still believe he could do something like this before. “I was messing around with you, I don’t like him like that.”

“The why would you draw him?” he shot back, his frustration growing.

“I didn’t fucking—” You stopped yourself, feeling your anger rise again, but then it turned into something else. You dropped the hose to the floor with a loud thud, your hands reaching to your face in disbelief. “I did not draw him, it was a Joke Sunghoon.”

You dropped to your knees, reaching what was last of the plastic bag, feeling like everything you had worked for was just being crushed. Sunghoon’s face was scrunched in confusion, his brows furrowed, but he didn’t fully understand why this was such a big deal for him. You unwrapped the remaining piece of the plastic, revealing the painting. Sunghoon’s face, the one that had been on the canvas, was staring back at him, eerily smooth and perfect, contrasting with the charred edges of the canvas.

The sight hit you harder than you expected, and the tears you’d been holding back started to fall. Everything you had worked for, all your effort and your emotions, ruined. Sunghoon stood frozen, his own heart racing as he finally pieced together what you had done. His jaw tightened, and his eyes flicked between the ruined canvas and you.

“I didn’t mean to…” he started, but the words didn’t feel like enough.

You wiped your eyes quickly, feeling the anger and embarrassment burning inside you. The effort you’d put into this painting, something that had meant more to you than it probably should, was now in pieces. And Sunghoon had made it worse by throwing it into the fire.

“That’s… me?” Sunghoon’s voice trembled as his gaze locked on the painting. The edges were scorched, but his face, the face he hadn’t expected to see there, stared back at him, hauntingly calm.

“You ruined my canvas.” you said, your voice sharp and tight.

He stared at you, his jaw clenching as he tried to process your words. Then, he looked back down at the ruined painting, his breathing uneven. “I didn’t… mean to ruin it,” he muttered, softer now. “I just… I don’t know. I guess I was mad.”

“Mad? At what?” you snapped, stepping closer, your anger spilling over.

“Because I thought you actually painted him!” Sunghoon’s voice cracked as he looked up at you. “Jake. I thought you— you painted him. And I couldn’t stand it.”

The words hit you like a sudden gust of wind, and you blinked at him, incredulous. “It was a joke!” you said, your voice rising. “For the love of God, Sunghoon, it was a stupid joke!”

Sunghoon opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He stared at the burning canvas, his face shadowed with regret. His hands clenched at his sides, trembling slightly, before he turned back to you.

“I didn’t know.” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “I thought—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I thought it meant something else.”

You folded your arms across your chest, glaring at him, but beneath the anger was a flicker of exhaustion. “Of course, it meant something else. You didn’t even ask, Sunghoon. You just—destroyed it. How could you?”

He took a step closer, his eyes pleading. “I didn’t think. I—I was jealous, okay? I didn’t know what to do. Every time you talk about Jake or anyone else, it feels like I’m… like I’m not enough.” His voice cracked, raw and unguarded in a way you hadn’t heard before.

For a moment, the anger in you softened, replaced by something heavier. You looked at him, standing there with guilt etched across his face, and you weren’t sure whether to scream or to cry.

“Jealousy doesn’t give you the right to destroy something that matters to me. Do you even understand how much time I spent on that painting? What it meant to me?”

He lowered his gaze, his shoulders slumping under the weight of your words. “I know I messed up. I know I ruined it. But—

“I don’t destroy everything you do when you flirt with bitches on the phone!” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

“What?” Sunghoon froze, his eyes widening as though you’d slapped him.

“You heard me!” you shot back, anger and frustration boiling over. “You keep telling me all of this, that you’re jealous, that you’re scared of every guy who comes up to me. But then you turn around and flirt with other girls like it’s nothing. You just give me these confused signs, Sunghoon!”

His brows furrowed, his expression twisting into something defensive, but underneath, there was a flicker of guilt. “What are you even talking about? I—”

“Do you like me or not?” you cut him off, your voice rising. You weren’t sure if the question was fueled by anger, desperation, or both, but it hung in the air, sharp and undeniable.

Sunghoon opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if he was struggling to find the right words. His silence felt louder than anything he could have said.

“Exactly.” you said bitterly, crossing your arms and stepping back. “You don’t even know, do you? You don’t get to act like this, like you have some kind of claim on me, when you can’t even figure out your own feelings.”

“That’s not fair!” Sunghoon snapped suddenly, his voice louder now, the frustration finally breaking through. “You think I don’t care about you? That I don’t—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to keep up with his own emotions.

“Then say it!” you demanded, tears stinging your eyes. “If you care so much, say it! Stop playing these games where one minute you’re jealous, and the next you’re flirting with anyone who’ll give you attention!”

“I’m not playing games!” he shot back, his voice cracking. “I—” He faltered, his shoulders slumping as the anger drained out of him. “I’m scared, okay? That’s why I don’t say it. Because what if I say it, and it’s not enough? What if I lose you anyway?”

“You’re losing me now” your voice trembling. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Sunghoon looked at you, his eyes wide and desperate and panic flashing across his face. “Wait—” he said quickly, his voice breaking. “You’re my best friend. You can’t—don’t say that. Please.”

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes. “Exactly. I’m your best friend. That’s why this hurts so much, Sunghoon. I don’t even know where I stand with you anymore.”

“You’re—you’re everything to me!” he blurted, stepping closer. “You’re the only person I trust, the only one who really knows me. I can’t lose you, okay? I won’t.”

“You say that..” you snapped, shaking your head, “but then you go and do stuff like this. You tear apart things that matter to me because you’re jealous. You send all these mixed signals, and I’m just supposed to stand here and take it? You don’t get to put me through this and then call me your best friend like it’s all okay.”

“I didn’t mean to—” he began, but you cut him off again, your voice rising.

“Then what do you mean, Sunghoon? What am I to you? Do you want me to just sit here and be your backup while you flirt with whoever you want? Or do you actually want me in your life?”

His face twisted, pain flashing in his eyes. “You don’t understand. It’s not like that.”

“Then explain it to me!” you shouted, your chest heaving. “Because I can’t do this anymore! Do you even like me, Sunghoon? Or am I just someone you keep around because it’s convenient?”

“I like you!” he yelled, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it and everything fell silent. His shoulders slumped as he exhaled shakily. “I like you.” he repeated, softer this time. “More than I should. More than I know what to do with.”

For a moment, you just stood there, your mind reeling. The confession you had been waiting for, the one that had lingered in the back of your mind, finally out in the open.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. I should have talked to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“What about those girls?” you asked, your voice quieter but still sharp. “You’re always flirting with them, getting jealous over nothing. And then you go and do this.”

Sunghoon winced, his face reddening. He opened his mouth but paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I get jealous, and I hate it. But I don’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

You stood there, trying to make sense of it all, the anger slowly melting into something softer. “So, you’re really sorry? After everything?”

“I know I messed up.” he said, his eyes pleading. “But I don’t want to lose you. I care about you more than I can put into words.”

“Do you really mean that?” you whispered, barely able to hold his gaze.

“I do.” he replied, his voice barely audible. “I love you, and I care about you more than I know how to say.”

Your eyes flicked down to his lips, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped closer, drawn to him like magnets. He didn’t hesitate. Sunghoon’s hand reached for yours, and the next thing you knew, you were standing face-to-face. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the gap between you.

His lips met yours gently at first, soft, and tentative. The sensation was electric, sending a wave of warmth flooding through you. Sunghoon’s hand cupped your face, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, urging you closer. You could feel the urgency in the way his lips moved against yours, tender yet desperate, as if he was pouring every word he hadn’t said into that moment. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

His lips parted slightly, and you felt his breath against your mouth, warm and ragged. You responded instinctively, your own lips parting to deepen the kiss, the taste of him, the warmth of his hands, filling you completely. It wasn’t just a kiss anymore, it was everything you had both been holding back, all the emotions finally spilling over into something real.

When you pulled away, both of you were breathless. Sunghoon’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still shaky. “Are we okay?” he asked, his voice low, vulnerable.

You smiled, a genuine smile this time, your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “Yeah,” you whispered, “We’re more than okay.”

#enhypen #sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #kpop fanfic #fanfic #sunghoon fanfic

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shewolf-sinclair · 3 days ago

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no i love this. i’m taking ap research and for a while was looking into doing a media analysis project on jason todd and how he exists as social commentary. an essay i plan to write later anyways but without the college board guidelines.

when you think about he exists to critique everything batman stands for.

he comes from NOTHING. he has had to work for everything he has.

bruce is as old money as it gets. he was raised with the world at his fingertips.

jason fights for the general wellbeing of gotham. but deep down he fights for the kids like them. to show them they too can be something. to protect them. the unprotected, often situationally the weakest, the young, the innocent, and the poor. He fights so they don’t have to grow up with crime as their only possibility of a living. so they have options.

it’s not that bruce inherently doesn’t care. but. he has subconscious bias. he fights in crime alley because he hates crime. but he’s not thinking about what his presence might mean to the residents besides taking down bad guys. And he’s more concerned with bigger things like mobs and gangs and big bads than the small things. At least he is by the time he takes Jason in. He’s not just batman either. he’s bruce. he holds immense power as a citizen. he has the ability to improve the conditions in crime alley that pushes those people towards crime in the first place.

jason as RH goes into being a crimelord strictly to dismantle that system (from the inside). Because who cares if petty theft continues he’s keeping the drugs and predators away from the kids. because this generation may be fucked but he can keep the next one from making the same mistakes. and he’ll help this one where he can, too. he’s anti batman because he’s mad at batman, but also because of where his priorities as a vigilante and political figure lie.

batman works with the police. he comes when they call him. if you don’t think that provides bias as to who he helps you’re insane. the police in canon are corrupt, in such a way they mirror the real systemic problems we have in real life, although DC doesn’t always get as graphic within it’s PD and often tries to show them as accessories to heroism (again racist in many ways) this automatically puts batman fighting to save the middle and upper class more often than those in crime alley. and the white residents of gotham more often than the poc.

I know a lot of people don’t like the live action titans show. and while I love it dearly I’m not here to argue about what it did or didn’t get right or do well. I just want to mention l a specific scene in Jason’s s3 arc that ties back to the point of this thread; specifically 3x05 “Lazurus” which stands as one of my favorite episodes of television to this day.

In looking for the exact scene I want to reference I came across Molly’s (jason’s childhood friend) character wiki:

In said scene Jason and Molly meet and discover the whereabouts of a missing kid, to which Molly remarks “He’s poor and brown so the cops don’t give a shit” and while Jason at first says batman will handle it, he very quickly — and after Molly comments on batman’s classism — rushes into trying to take action. The following scene is them confronting the suspected kidnapper and Jason kicking his ass. Maybe even better Jason’s FIRST act as red-hood was saving the kid.

Later in the season he goes on several times to separate himself from scarecrow, reasoning that he didn’t agree to be redhood for senseless violence but because he wanted a better gotham, and wanted the opportunity to take down crime from the inside.

the last thing want to discuss is the kill/no kill rule.

in general redhood doesn’t go on random killing sprees. It is almost always killing predators and abusers, as a way of keeping them away from their victims and saving potential future victims. Because Jason knows locking them up in Arkham or other similar solutions tends not to work. Jason doesn’t kill because he likes it, or is okay with it. It’s a means of necessity. Him having a high kill count is direct commentary on the vigilante/anti-hero trope and on morality and what makes a mean to an end, on what draws the line. His very existence as Red Hood is the same thing as asking “What if you cut a rapists dick off? Or otherwise maim them? What if you commit murder in an act of self defense or one of immediate defense of another?” It’s like when cops shoot a suspect because it’s the only foreseeable way to prevent them from harming people in the immediate future. It’s not arguing that murder is moral. It’s arguing which is less moral; killing them, or allowing them to continue causing harm; knowing you had a chance to stop it. Mind you we are discussing ethics, not legality, as 90% of the vigilante work is illegal.

Batman however refuses to kill, even in the case if the Joker — who murders countless people for fun, including Jason. Batman continues unreliable ways of keeping them off them the streets, with no effort to make them any more reliable. and again is has nothing to do with worrying about the law- he breaks the law constantly.

And this has always been there stark difference, why Jason fights so hard against crime AND a against Batman, and while even after reconciliation they still have a strained relationship.

My opinion on the Latino Jason Todd headcanon

While I do understand ppl's criticism of the latino Jason todd headcanon and how its kind of racist to make the kid with parents with drug problems as the latino one, to me its more of a reclamation BECAUSE of DC's racism.

Read any 80s/90s batman issue that covers gang violence and drugs, most if not ALL of the criminals are poc; black people and latinos visibly make up the majority in the poorer neighbourhoods in Gotham. Aside from the caricaturist way they r drawn/speak, its not THAT weird cause its a reflection of irl big cities where immigrants and marginalised ppl are often forced to live in such situations, (like most of my dominican family lives in the bronx... it aint racist to say dominicans tend to flock there), BUT...the weird part is when the second a sympathetic character comes from that area, he's white and has a name thats "too fancy for the streets".

Obviously, Jason was created to look like the old robin, so I can't say that the whole "diamond in the rough" situation was purposely a tad bit racist, but its still a lil weird (especially with bruce's comment).

If Jason were a part of the overwhelming demographic in his area, the good-kid-in-a-bad-area trope has less connotations. DC is currently trying to fix this trope is by making crime alley whiter, which isn't bad but they could've just yk... humanised the non-white residents.

I also feel like the messed up way Jason was treated post-death is what makes him so relatable to latino readers. His tragic story of dying while trying to save his only living relative is turned into a lesson for newer vigilantes. Jason's particular disdain for abusers on a few occasions was twisted (by both writers and characters) into him always being dumb, reckless, cocky, angry and disobedient, always violent, never having been able to get over his upbringing. None of those things were true (he was a normal level of reckless and cocky like every other robin, not more), but its an easier narrative to digest compared to how it was in reality; a kid who worked so hard and loved even harder, died to save a woman who couldn't care less about his existence. He was an emotional AND smart kid who wanted so bad to help others get better but was remembered as too emotional (in a bad way).

THIS is the reality for many latino diasporas in day to day life; Theres no question that Latino culture is passionate and emotive, but people from other cultures assume that it is followed by instead of logical. both can coexist. emotion does not mean u have no logic. Emotions can be irrational but they aren't inherently that way, and I wouldn't say that the moments where Jason lashed out as a teenager were irrational (in og runs, not rewrites post red hood), they were mostly done to protect someone (going crazy on abusers, disobeying batman to save sheila, that time he got into a fight at school to defend his friend).

A lot of euro-centric culture is OBSESSED with the idea that rationality is separate from feelings and emotions, but not crying at a funeral doesn't mean you're better than those who do. Emotions are the basis of human ethics and morals, they define the way we interact as a collective and ignoring them does not mean they are not there. Theres no winner to a contest of who can feel the less. And the way Jason's emotions are treated (pre-rh, hes definitely unhinged afterwards lol) is so in line with how white culture tends to punish those who aren't ashamed to feel.

I TOTES UNDERSTAND that some ppl who headcanon Jason as latino are doing it for the complete opposite of reasons, like "oh here some angry emotional guy with druggie parents, haha must be latino". Its weird. I dont like it. And its only brought up so he can swear in spanish in some rlly bad text post where his emotions are getting out. But to me there's so much potential for metanarrative and commentary on how latinos are treated in media that can be exemplified through the way his character is treated. Being latino would add SO MUCH DEPTH to his character and his dynamic with the others.

#this is just my rant lol #jason todd #red hood

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rin-solo · 3 days ago

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This came to me earlier, and now I am utterly obsessed: The Vengeance wasn't Odysseus stabbing Poseidon, it was Odysseus disproving Poseidon's "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" belief right in front of his very eyes. With him as the subject, even.

Think about it—the fact that Poseidon remained ruthless and insisted on punishing Odysseus was the only reason he got stabbed repeatedly. If Poseidon had been merciful, if he had accepted Odysseus' offer of forgiveness, he would've been fine. His own ruthlessness backfired so hard on him this time that I am sincerely hoping it haunts him forever.

I am actually utterly obsessed with Poseidon thinking back to Odysseus "Maybe you could learn to forgive?" on a daily, no an hourly basis. I cannot and will not lie to you that is unironically my favorite moment in the whole Vengeance saga just because of what it says about both the characters—about Odysseus for offering and Poseidon for declining. And this makes me love it even more.

Poseidon was going to decline, we all know that. I don't think anyone watching—even Odysseus, probably—expected him to accept. But then I'm picturing him lying there, bleeding into the stone, and, against his will, wondering whether maybe he should have. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be in pain. Maybe if he had not killed Odysseus' fleet ten years ago, he wouldn't be in pain either. Maybe this one time ruthlessness wasn't mercy upon himself—maybe this time, his one grand belief was wrong. Maybe ... it was always wrong.

Obviously, he would never admit to these thoughts, he would slap himself for having them one second later. But I simply need this self-proclaimed god of ruthlessness to be utterly haunted by that and question whether he made the right choice or no—whether he's even lived by the correct philosophy all his immortal life—and no matter what, be too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

He's trying to pretend like nothing changed, but the thoughts still remain. They pester him. They won't leave him alone. Especially every time someone—anyone—is kind to him for whatever reason, they come crashing back into him and they won't leave.

"What if my own ruthlessness hurt me that time?"

"What if ruthlessness isn't mercy upon ourselves after all?"

"What if I'm wrong?"

"What if I have always been wrong?"

The most dreadful thoughts imaginable to a god as proud and stubborn and old as Poseidon, but they're there now and he can't do anything about them. You all don't understand how much I NEED this god to jolt up in his bed at 3 am after having a dream or nightmare about something related to one of his many ruthless deeds (maybe even sinking Odysseus' fleet) and go "BUT WHAT IF I HAD LEARNED TO FORGIVE?? WHAT IF I STILL COULD??" only to immediately slap himself for it because that's absolutely ridiculous.

He is left to watch this belief shatter before his very eyes as he's clinging to the remains of it desperately, trying to keep it all from crumbling. Not because he genuinely believes he's right anymore, but because he simply cannot imagine ... does not know how to live by any other philosophy.

No matter whether it's objectively correct or not, it's the very thing that defines him. The thing he's known for. He has built his entire image around this, he cannot give it up no matter what ... at least not quickly or without help.

But as much he would seek to deny it, his core belief has now been proven wrong; he has actually lived through an instance where it was wrong, and he can do nothing to erase those memories or conclusions from his mind no matter how much he yearns to go back to simpler times.

And that was the real Vengeance, guys—possibly the biggest, most painful existential crisis of Poseidon's immortal life. I rest my case.

Although before I disappear back into the void I simply must give a shout out to @o3o-lapd-o3o (this came to me during a conversation in one of their comment sections for the glorious Friends In Higher Places AU, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of EPIC fan content that exists ...)

#poseidon epic #epic the musical #epic musical #epic the vengeance saga #epic odysseus #poseidon #jorge rivera herrans #i have never believed in ruthlessness is mercy #but thank you so much odysseus for proving me right #with ruthlessness of your own #how very poetic #poseidon having an existential crisis over being too stubborn for redemption is sth i didnt know i needed #i wanna believe he gets there eventually #a few centuries later #odysseus has no idea what he did btw #he stabbed poseidon and that was that #he probably didnt think he could so much as make him question this #someone somewhere out there eventually notices maybe #HAVE I MENTIONED HOW OBSESSED I AM WITH ODYSSEUS' “MAYBE YOU COULD LEARN TO FORGIVE?” YET #because I AM #that god killed your whole fleet #thunder saga!odysseus would not have offered this #i love the subtle hints at odysseus' positive development in this saga almost more than anything #the only thing I don't love about them is that they're so subtle a majority of people don't notice them #friends in higher places au?#am i allowed to tag this as that ouo

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dr-spectre · 3 days ago

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I was listening to the Bomb Rush Blush remix from Splatoon 2 on YouTube and one comment kinda ticked me off. (Please don't look at YouTube comment sections please don't...)

I think it went along the lines of "Octavio uses the Onward jingle to keep Callie in line when she's acting like herself to make sure she doesn't free herself from the """"brainwashing"""

And I saw another comment on a video showing her performance and It went something like "her moves look so robotic, which shows the limitations of the mind control."

Guys....... my brothers in christ.... Octavio uses the onward jingle because.... THAT'S HIS THING!!!!! THAT'S HIS MOTIFF! THATS HIS SIGN!!!

You guys are looking too deeply in the wrong direction....

HE USES IT ON EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HIS PROJECTS!!!! IT IS NOT A MIND CONTROL THING!!!! IT IS HIS THING TO SHOW "hey i worked on this track." HE PRODUCED THE BOMB RUSH BLUSH REMIX! OF COURSE HE WAS GONNA ADD IN THE ONWARD JINGLE!!!

Goodness gracious.

You wanna know why Callie's dance moves are more robotic? They are meant to be more punchy and less joyful than her regular performance. Hypno Callie is not gonna be dancing around in a silly way and smiling. YOU THINK A MENTALLY ILL AND ANGRY CALLIE IS GONNA BE DOING THAT?!?! She's trying to make herself more intimidating.

I think people have forgotten why Octavio wanted Callie's help in the first place. Octavio wanted Callie's fucking influence on the Octarians because he knows that music is a way to help motivate his troops. Having a popular and beloved celebrity helping him boosted his approval ratings as said by the artbook. (Ignore the shit about "Callie's kidnapping." Leave it be. It doesnt exist. Shh.) He let her decorate all the damn bases. He wasn't trying to have a fucking mind controlled slave guys.

The day pop culture finally drops hypnosis as a mind control plot is the day i will know peace and happiness.

#splatoon #callie cuttlefish #callie splatoon #splatoon 2 #dj octavio #rant post #hypno callie #octo callie #hypnosis

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mayrose713 · 3 days ago

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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 12

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Chapter 12

Y/n sits, bouncing her leg as she waits with the pack at the table for her brother.

“Kitten.” Minho places his hand on her bouncing leg, having chosen to sit next to her to make sure she ate during dinner and whispers. “What’s wrong?”

She looks up at him. “Just a bit anxious.”

“Did you take your meds today?” She nods a yes at his question causing him to sigh. “Everything will be okay, it’s just your brother. He wouldn’t tell the rest of your family about meeting up with you, right?”

“No, he wouldn’t.” She relaxes a little. “He doesn’t talk to them anymore but just makes me wary.”

“Everything will be okay.” The alpha reassures her. “We’re all here with you.”

“Y/n.” A tall beta walks up and her eyes brighten.

“Hyuk.” She stands up to hug him and he holds her tight against him for a moment before she lets go.

“It’s good to see you again.” He looks her over. “You’ve been okay?”

“Perfect.” She smiles before turning towards the table. “Everyone, this is my older brother Minhyuk.” She then starts pointing around the table. “Hyuk, this is our pack alpha Chan, our head alpha Changbin, the second oldest alpha Minho, and our youngest alpha Jeongin. Then our head beta Hyunjin, youngest beta Seungmin, and our two omega like betas Jisung and Felix.”

“It’s nice to meet you Minhyuk.” Chan stands to greet him.

“You too, thank you for taking care of my little sister.” The beta bows his head.

“Of course, after we had found her, all we’ve wanted to do was help.” Felix smiles watching as Y/n takes her seat back next to Minho and her brother takes the seat next to her. “Even before we knew she was our fated mate we knew we’d do anything for her.”

“I appreciate it. Not a lot of people would do that, especially for an omega.” He smiles down at his sister. “I’m just glad she’s finally free now.”

Minhyuk watches as Y/n looks over the menu with Minho. “You’ll like this.” The alpha points to something on the menu. “It’s similar to those noodles I made the other day you liked.”

She nods her head but looking at the picture she worries as it looks like a big serving and she knows she won’t be able to eat all of it.

“Do you wanna share Y/nnie?” Felix noticed her look of uncertainty, as he doesn’t like to eat much so he knew this was the best option for both of them. “It’s a lot of food and I know I won’t eat it all.”

She nods, grateful for his offer before she moves to stand up. “Gotta go to the restroom real quick.”

They all watch her walk away from the table, but Changbin watches until she disappears behind the door having a clear view of the bathrooms from where he sits and continues glancing over waiting for her to come out.

“She’s anxious.” Minhyuk points out after she was gone.

“Has she always dealt with anxiety?” Jisung asks, wanting to find out more about their new mate.

The beta nods sadly. “Yeah, it probably started when she was about eight. Was bullied at school which caused a lot of anxiety and insecurities. Our family didn’t help either.”

“We’re having her see a therapist and psychologist.” Changbin tells him. “They’ve already put her on medication for her anxiety and are thinking about antidepressants too.”

Her brother sighs in relief at this. “That’s good, I’ve been saying she needed help with it for years but our family would blow it off saying she has no reason to be anxious or depressed.”

Seungmin scoffs. “Because they didn’t want to realize they were the cause of it.” He meant for his comment to be more to himself but everyone else heard.

“So she’s told you guys a bit about how our family treated her?”

“Yeah.” Jeongin nods sadly.

“Before she comes back I want to warn you guys about some of her tendencies.” Minhyuk looks around to make sure they’re all listening, which they are. “I don’t know how much you guys have experienced yet but I want to explain in case you have so you can understand why and to warn you of things she tends to do.”

“She doesn’t like to voice her feelings. Will bottle them up instead of talk until she blows and has a breakdown. Our family used to make it seem like her feelings weren’t valid. If you notice she’s bottling stuff up just push her a bit, she’ll give in and talk. And at times she can also go nonverbal. Sometimes it’s just because she’s been very social all day that by the end of it she’s worn out and just doesn’t want to communicate anymore. But other times it can be because she’s in her head about things. It could be because something was said to cause her to overthink or just her brain being cruel to her.”

“I personally think the reason for it is because she would get purposely ignored as a kid if she’s been overly talkative and as punishments. So she feels she just needs to silence herself either to punish herself or because she thinks she’s being too much. Just be patient with her. She’ll still communicate when directly spoken too either through hand motions or by writing or texting someone. She’ll usually pick someone to be the main person to communicate to, have them read what she writes. When it was her friend group she always just picked whoever she felt the closest to that day.”

The younger four just look at Minhyuk, sad to hear that their omega feels she has to do things like that. The older four are pissed that she went through that, all of them wanting to change her mindset from here on out for the better.

Y/n walks back over, noting that Changbin watched her the entire time until she was settled back in her seat between her brother and Minho. She also notices how heavy the air is as they all look at her with different expressions between pity, sadness and protectiveness.

She turns to her brother. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing they shouldn’t be aware of.”

The omega eyes her older brother before Hyunjin speaks up. “He just wanted to help us understand some stuff, nothing bad, princess.”

“Okay.” She sighs, trusting her brother and her pack.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Do you want a brownie baby?” Jisung asks, grabbing the container of Felix’s homemade brownies he made the day before.

“You barely even ate your dinner, Ji.” Minho remarks. “And you still need to pack for Jeju island. You don’t get dessert until after that.”

“Hyung.” Jisung pouts as the alpha takes the container from him. “It’s gonna take forever to pack, then it’ll be too late to eat one.”

“Go.” Minho shoos him off before getting two brownies out and giving them to the omegas sitting at the counter.

“Thanks Min.” Felix beams, taking a bite of his.

“Have you already packed, pretty girl?” Changbin leans on the counter next to Y/n.

“Yup, packed everything I thought I’d need.”

“Did you pack your swimsuit?” Felix asks, still chewing his brownie. “We plan to spend a day at the beach.”

She frowns. “I don’t have one.”

“You guys didn’t make sure she bought a swimsuit when you took her shopping?” Changbin looks at Hyunjin and Jeongin.

“We didn’t really think about that.” The youngest alpha shrugs. “We were more just thinking of normal everyday clothes she needed.”

“It’s fine.” Chan steps in reassuring everyone. “We’ll just get her a few at one of the shops on the island.”

“What time are we leaving in the morning?” Hyunjin asks while grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“I want to be out of the house by seven.” Minho finishes cleaning up a few things that were left out in the kitchen.

“That’s so early.” Hyunjin whines, grabbing himself a brownie and looks at Y/n confused as she still hasn’t eaten hers.

She’s playing with the paper towel it’s on as if trying to hide it from the eyes of the others and realized why. He quietly grabs a second brownie without anyone seeing before moving over to her, placing it on her first one, helping her hide it in the paper towel.

“Go.” He whispers in her ear and helps her slide off the chair hiding the brownies.

“I think I’m gonna call it early and head upstairs.” Y/n announces.

“Alright, goodnight baby girl.” Chan moves to her and kisses the top of her head.

Everyone else tells her goodnight as she heads upstairs and Hyunjin takes her seat at the counter to eat his brownie next to Felix who is smirking at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” The younger one shakes his head still smiling having seen the entire interaction between him and the omega.

Y/n walks upstairs going straight for Jisungs door and knocks.

“Yeah?”

She opens the door and peeks her head in “I brought you something.”

He smiles motioning for her to come in and she opens the paper towel handing him the top brownie.

“You are an Angel.” He hugs her before taking a bite of his delicious treat and drags her to sit on the floor with him as he packs his bag and she eats her dessert.

“Do you always procrastinate packing?” She watches him figure out a good way to fit everything in the suitcase.

“Not always.”

“Don’t lie to our girl, Ji.” Minho walks in as neither of them had shut the door. “I thought I told you no dessert until you're finished?” He then he looks at the omega. “And I thought you said you were going to bed?”

Y/n blushes at getting caught sneaking the beta dessert. “I’m sorry, I just knew he was wanting one.”

“Relax baby, he’s not actually mad.” Jisung places a hand on her thigh. “He’s just teasing.”

She looks up at the alpha and sure enough, he isn’t mad. But he is looking at her as if he feels guilty for making her think she was in trouble.

“Oh.” She whispers and looks away now embarrassed.

“I think it was very sweet of you to think of Jisung and bring him up a brownie and to eat with him.” Minho kneels in front of her.

She just nods her head, accepting his words but doesn’t say anything causing him to sigh.

“I came in originally to make sure Ji was finished and to drag him to sleep in my room as he doesn’t wake up on time if he’s alone.” He continues to explain as he watches the beta zip up his bag. “Why don’t you join us?”

“Wha…” Y/n looks at them wide eyed and shocked before she quickly starts shaking her head. “No, no, I-I couldn’t…”

“Kitten.” Minho interrupts her. “Don’t you ever try to finish that sentence. You are a part of this relationship as much as the rest of us. Meaning you’re allowed to sleep in any of our rooms with us. You don’t have to stick strictly to yours.”

“Okay.” She stands up. “Let me go change real quick then.”

“You don’t have to.” Jisung smirks. “It’s an unspoken rule that if you sleep in one of the alphas beds you sleep either naked or in their clothes.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Minho rolls his eyes. “It’s just something the betas do, you don’t have to follow it. We just want you to be comfortable.”

Y/n nods her head, biting her lip as she thinks it over causing Jisung to smirk even wider. “You wanna wear Min’s shirt, don’t you?”

She blushes not looking at either of them and whispers a maybe.

The alpha smiles with pride, gently grabbing her hand. “Come on baby.”

After grabbing Jisungs hand, the alpha takes both of them to his room, then let’s go to look in his closet. He first grabs one of the betas favorite shirts to sleep in, giving it to him to change into. Y/n turns away from Jisung to let him change, she’s sure he’s used to changing in front of Minho and wouldn’t care if she saw but she knew she would jump his bones like she’s been wanting to with all of them if she saw him undress.

“Which one do you want?” Minho brings her out of her thoughts, holding three shirts up in front of him.

She contemplates which one as she feels each, deciding on the softest and baggiest shirt of the three and he gives it to her.

“You can change in the corner Angel, we’ll turn away.” Jisung motions as he climbs into bed now wearing the alpha’s shirt and a pair of sweatpants which she assumes also belongs to Minho. “And you can put your clothes in Min’s hamper to get washed.”

“No peeking.” Y/n gives both of them a side eye before moving to the corner, looking back at them one last time to make sure they were turned away, which Jisung has already gotten comfortable in bed and is watching Minho in the closet who is grabbing his clothes and changing too.

She quickly changes into just Minho’s shirt and her underwear. The shirt falls about mid thigh, covering everything that needs to be. After placing her dirty clothes into the hamper she turns just as the older male is walking over to the bed in just sweatpants. The omega of course can't help but to ogle at his chiseled torso.

“You’re staring, kitten.” But to be fair, so is he, loving how his girl looks in just his shirt.

She looks up at his face blushing. “Umm… C-can I ask about the…”

“The scar?” The alpha traces the silver line. “It’s from a medical surgery when I was a baby. It grew as I did. Nothing to worry about now.”

“Are you two just going to eye fuck each other or are you going to finally come to bed?” Jisung whines, causing the two to laugh.

Minho slides in next to his beta and lifts the covers for Y/n to slide in too so that he has both of them curled up on either side of him. She watches Jisung lay his head on their alpha’s chest making her want to as well but is unsure about pushing any boundaries. Before she can chicken out though she’s getting pulled into his side by his strong arm so she’s resting her head on the other side of his chest from Jisung.

“You never have to worry about cuddling, kitten.”

Jisung looks at her, booping her nose. “Some of them, Min included, might not seem like the type to want to cuddle or have physical affection, but I promise you none of us will ever push you away if you initiate it.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Go to sleep you two, we have an early morning.” Minho kisses both of their heads.

“Night hyung, night angel.”

“Night, Jisungie, night Min.”

“Goodnight, babies.”

______________________________________________________________

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