#i like both of them. not ground breaking but I'm not looking for that in an action movie

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Motivation ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader x best friend!yunho

♡ Genre: smut/angst

♡ Summary: Yunho hasn't been able to get you out of his head or his life since the night his best friend Mingi fell for you. He tries to look at you as his best friend's girlfriend, surpressing any forbidden feelings that arise for you, but one night and a single forgotten pair of panties is all it takes to make him break. What will he do when you walk in on him in one of his most vulnerable moments? More importantly, what will you do?

♡ Word Count: 7.9k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader's the brat of all brats, just a tad bit manipulative, both Mingi and Yunho simp for her hard, some subby boy vibes w/ a lil dom Mingi, a lil dom reader, jealous Mingi, perv Yunho, kissing, male masturbation, panty sniffing/licking, deep throating, sexual fantasies, penetrative sex, rough sex, marking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, nipple play, choking, low-key breath play, fingering, swallowing, overstumilation, throat fucking, creampie, handjob, things get very wet, general worship, pet names (baby, good boy, baby girl).

♡ A/N: I need to make this clear. This fic is in no way 7.9k words of smut. There's at least 1k words of something else in there so, ya know, I'm not a total pervert (I am a total pervert 💜). I have so much more planned for this trio but this is what I have for now and I hope all of my sexy chubby babes out there have fun with it. Love you my darlings.

There’s something off about you. 

Yunho knew it the moment that Mingi brought you home from the club. It wasn’t a rare occasion for Mingi to bring a girl back to the apartment. Usually Yunho would be right by his side, stumbling through the door with his tongue shoved halfway down the throat of a girl whose panties hit the ground before he could even learn her name.

But that night he made the rare decision to stay home. He had a paper due the next day and it was either lock in or fail. So instead of partying with his friends, scoping out his prey for the night, he spent his time rotting on the couch, staring at his laptop until his retinas burned out. Fully consumed by the task at hand, he hardly noticed what time it was when the front door clicked open and you came skipping through like you owned the place. 

“Ooh, a smart one” you teased, leaning over the back of the couch to grab a peek at his screen.

You smelled like strawberries and cream with the faintest hint of vodka. Fresh. Sweet. Edible. Your lips were glossy and plush, tinted with a shade of pink that made them particularly kissable. Even by the quickest glimpse of you in his peripheral he could tell that you were pretty. Not pretty like things people take pictures of. Pretty like things men start wars over. 

“What’s your name?” you asked, extending a smooth, manicured hand out to greet him.

Mingi groaned, his arms already around your waist to usher you towards the bedroom, “It doesn’t matter what his name is.”

“Yunho” he managed, turning to get his first full look at you. Heat rushed to his cheeks at the sight of you in that tiny black dress. It clung to your curves for dear life, making every part of you look especially plump in ways that made the heat rush to other parts of his body. 

“Yunho?” you giggled, your fingers skimming his, leaving little sparks of electricity dancing at his fingertips. You didn’t say his name. You sang it like a lullaby, your eyes seeming to twinkle at the sound of it. “I like that name.”

Mingi was all over you, ready to tear you apart, and you were doing nothing at all to stop him but somehow you still seemed fixated on Yunho. Or maybe he was the one fixated on you. “I’ll see you later, Yunho” you winked, Mingi nibbling at your neck just enough to make you moan it out. 

You were just another girl. Mingi’s girl at that. Yunho knew he shouldn’t care and yet he found himself staring at the spot you were once in long after you’d left it. He couldn’t understand what it was about you but he wanted you to come back. Lean over the couch again. Whisper in his ear. Say his name.

“Yunho? I like that name.” 

Shrugging it off, he rubbed his exhausted eyes, dragging his attention back to the task at hand. What he felt was nothing. Just some weird side effect of sleep deprivation. It’d be gone in the morning and so would you. Only that wasn’t true at all. The feeling didn’t go away and neither did you. Not that morning or the morning after that or the morning after that. Mingi kept bringing you around and that feeling—this almost surreal pull you seemed to have to you—only worsened with each passing day. 

Mingi felt it too. Yunho knew that he did. The only difference was that Mingi could indulge in it. In less than a week you were Mingi’s girlfriend and he was crazy about you. Ravenous almost. Yunho had never seen him get this way over a girl. Anything you wanted, everything you wished for. You only had to ask and Mingi  would stop the world to make sure you had it. More than once Yunho wanted to stop his best friend and ask, “What’s she doing to you?” Were you a witch? A demon? Some magic being that had cast a spell upon his best friend, making him your zombie slave.

Whatever you were, your presence in the apartment was driving Yunho insane. He couldn’t stand to hear your voice because he heard it in his dreams. He couldn’t stand to see your face because it’s all he pictured when he closed his eyes at night. Anytime your body was anywhere near him his fingers seemed to tingle with the urge to touch you. Even when you weren’t around the scent of your perfume lingered in the air so that he couldn’t forget you once. Not for a second. Your existence was a small form of torture. Wanting you, longing for you, but not being able to have you was enough to make him insane.

There’s something off about you and Yunho can’t explain it. He can’t justify why he so desperately needs Mingi to get rid of you and he can’t justify why he’s standing outside of the bathroom door listening to you as you sing in the shower, blissfully unaware of his presence. It wasn’t his intention to end up here. He’d been on his way to the kitchen to grab a snack when he noticed the door was cracked and the shower was on. Naturally he’d assumed it was Mingi but before he could go on his way your singing pulled him back. 

You’re adorable when you sing. You’ve done it around him before—cheesy pop songs at karaoke nights—and each time he finds it more endearing than the last. In the back of his mind he knows he shouldn’t be standing here. He doesn’t even know why he’s standing here. Maybe the answer’s something wholesome like him wanting to be near you when you’re doing something cute or maybe it’s something filthy like him getting hard at the knowledge that on the other side of that door you’re completely naked. Or maybe it’s somewhere in between. Either way he knows it’s not right. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be feeling this. 

“Get it together. What’s wrong with you?” he groans, raking his hands down his face. He presses his palms into his cheeks, fingers drumming at his temples. “We have to get out of here.”

“Hello?” you call out and Yunho’s heart stops dead in his chest. He doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t even breathe. He couldn’t if he wanted to. There’s no way you heard him. 

“Hello?” you repeat, peeking your head out from behind the shower curtain. Fuck, you heard him. You wait a moment, positive that you heard something but not entirely sure what. Glancing over at the mirror you catch the reflection of a silhouette just outside the door. “Mingi, if you’re trying to scare me it won’t work. I can see you.” 

Yunho’s plan to run in the other direction is halted by your words. You’ve already seen him. He can’t just run away now. If he does and you mention it to Mingi later you’ll know it was Yunho anyway. You’ll think he’s a creep and a pervert. As if him standing here to begin with does anything to argue against that theory. 

Clearing his throat, Yunho digs deep to find the most normal explanation for his current position. “I’m sorry. I just had to use the bathroom. I didn’t know—”

“Oh, Yunie! Hold on a second!” Switching the water off, you reach out to grab your towel from the hook and toss it around yourself. “I’m sorry if I was hogging the bathroom” you apologize, hurrying out to gather your things. You expect him to come in but when he doesn’t you open the door yourself to find him standing there like a lost puppy. A terrified lost puppy. 

“Yunie, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“I…uh…I…” he stutters, struggling to find the right words—or any words at all—in the presence of your half naked body in front of him. Even wrapped in a towel you’re glorious to look at. What skin that's left showing is more than enough to fuel the imagination and he wishes it weren’t. 

“You…uh…you what?” you tease, feeling guilty when he averts his gaze from you, his energy growing even more anxious than before. “Calm down. I’m just messing with you. Seriously though, everything okay?” You rest your hand on his chest, smoothing over the soft white cotton of his t-shirt. His chest tenses at your touch, his heart picking up speed. It thumps against your hand like the beating of a drum and you twiddle your fingers along to the tune. “If you ever need anything, Yunie—”

Yunho slips around you to get into the bathroom, knowing he’ll combust if you touch him for any longer. “Thanks but I’m good, really. I just needed to use the bathroom.”

You giggle, turning to bid him farewell, “Well alright then. You have fun in here.”

You’re barely out of the bathroom when Yunho’s pushing the door closed behind you, listening for your footsteps before rushing to the sink to splash cold water on his face. This is borderline embarrassing. All you did was touch his chest and he’s short circuiting. What’s wrong with him? The sensation of something pulsing elsewhere on his body brings his attention down below his waist where a rise in his sweatpants has his cock pressed right up against the edge of the sink. 

“Seriously? This is not the time” he whispers down at it, knowing that there’s no way he can leave the bathroom in this condition. At least not until he’s sure you’re really gone. Reaching down to readjust himself, his attention’s drawn to something blue lying on the ground near his feet. At first he’s unsure what it is, it’s all bundled up, indiscernible from any other fabric, but when he picks it up there’s no mistaking what the lace blue fabric is or who it belongs to. 

Your panties dangle from his fingertips, delicate and pretty, a little silk bow adorning the front band. Yunho’s no stranger to the type of panties that you like to wear—he’s caught a glimpse of them once or twice when your dress was shorter than you might’ve known—but touching them is different and the added knowledge that you’ve worn them has him straining even harder against his boxers. The voice in the back of his head whispers that he should put them back. Leave them right where he found them and walk away before he does something he shouldn’t. 

But there’s another side of him, one that would gnaw its own arm off for any piece of you, and it has him burying his face in your panties, every inhale filling his lungs with the sweetness of your scent. He loses himself in thoughts of what it must be like to have his face pushed between your legs, your pillowy thighs resting on his shoulders as he drags his tongue along your slit. His tongue darts out, soaking the lace and he swears he can taste you. His free hand finds the waistband of his sweatpants, shoving them aside with his boxers in one swift motion to take himself into his hand. 

Yunho hisses at the satisfaction of his palm skimming his length as his cock slips free. “Yunie” you always call him. He doesn’t know when you started calling him that but every time you do it does something to him. Would you call him that while the tip of his tongue’s circling your clit? Would you tug at his hair, grinding yourself against his face, and say “Yunie”? Precum leaks from his cock as he circles the tip, your panties becoming a gag to muffle the sounds escaping his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut, desperate not to catch the slightest glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

The sick part is he doesn’t know if that’d stop him. He should probably feel bad but there’s no room for a conscience right now. There’s only room for you flooding his taste buds. Only room for the pursuit of a high unlike any he’s felt before. The pressure building inside of him is almost too intense, his knees going weak each time he strokes his cock.

Biting down on the fabric, Yunho feels the muscles in his stomach tighten. His slick fingers dance up and down his shaft as he thrusts into his fist. Are you one of those girls who closes her eyes when she cums or do you leave them open? Would you stare down at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip quivering just as you’re on the edge of your high?

“Yunie” you whisper into the void of his fantasies, “I told you if you ever needed anything…” 

Your voice sounds so clear. It rings in his ear as if it isn’t coming from the depths of his mind but from you directly. Yunho’s eyes open slowly, cautiously, to find out why it seems that way. Because it is that way. You’re standing right there beside him in your towel, watching him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

When you realized that you’d left your panties behind you didn’t expect to come back to this but you aren’t exactly complaining. You’ve always known that Yunho had a thing for you and the harder he tries to pretend that he doesn’t the more obvious it is. 

You almost feel bad for how much fun you have teasing him when you all hang out together. He probably thinks it’s all accidental. Your hand brushing his when you walk by, your panties peeking out when you bend over, your voice getting a bit lighter when you say his name. All of it’s intentional. Done for the express purpose of seeing how far you can push him before he breaks. Seeing him standing here with your panties stuffed between his lips, his cock leaking all over the tile floor, you figure he must’ve hit his limit. How lucky you are to be here to see it. 

Cupping his cheek, you gently trace his jawline, pressing your body against his side. “Don’t stop,” you coo, staring into his warm brown eyes, “Be a good boy and cum for me.” 

You’re gorgeous. As gorgeous as you were the day he first saw you. Gorgeous enough to make the word “shame” non-existent. His fingers are still wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing in his grasp as your lips grow closer to his. When you’re close enough to feel the lace brush your lips, you pluck it away with your teeth, no barriers left between the two of you. He’s trembling, on the verge of falling apart and you’ve never wanted anything more.

“Tell me, Yunie. What’s my pussy taste like?” You tilt your head, brushing his lips with yours, and his body shudders one last time before he’s gushing down his hand, warm droplets of cum marking his sweatpants and pooling on the sink. He pulls away from you, fighting back what’s left of his orgasm as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he whines, reality hitting him like a freight train. Fumbling to fix his pants, he looks back at you to find you giggling.

“You’re so cute you’re flustered” you say, your panties now secure in your hand. You can see him spiraling. The pleasure of his high and the confusion of your reaction splitting his world in two. Approaching him casually, you offer him a quick peck on the cheek. A treat for a job well done. “You might wanna clean yourself up. Oh and thanks for holding onto these for me” you smile, shoving your panties into his pocket, “But you can keep them.” 

Exiting the bathroom as quietly as you came in, you disappear down the hall leaving Yunho alone to pick up the pieces of whatever that moment was. There’s something off about you and now Yunho knows it for sure. But why does that make him want you more? 

“Oh come on! Are you serious?” Mingi yells into his headset, the scene playing out on the TV mere seconds from launching him into a blind rage. 

You’d advised him to do something relaxing before bed. Listen to some rain sounds. Do some yoga. Drink a nice cup of chamomile tea and read a book. Unsurprisingly, jumping on the game with Jongho and Wooyoung wasn’t anywhere at the top of that list. It wasn’t even on it. 

“Stop yelling at him, it’s not his fault!” Jongho shouts back, defending Wooyoung despite knowing that the mistake was kinda his fault. 

“Mingi, what’d we say about yelling?” you ask, shuffling past the war zone on screen to grab something from the dresser. 

Mingi pouts, sitting up in bed, “It’s not my fault, baby. They’re betraying my moral loyalty here.”

Wooyoung scoffs, surely rolling his eyes on the other end, “You’re so dramatic.”

“I am not dramatic!”

Slipping out of your towel, you toss on a baggy shirt and hop into bed with your boyfriend. “You are kinda dramatic” you tease, cuddling up beside him. Mingi throws a look back at you, one ripe with betrayal, and you rub his lower back to soothe the pain. 

Mingi giggles, your fingers like magic to the muscles of his back. “Don’t start. You know that’s my spot.”

Jongho audibly cringes, “Alright. Match over. I’m out before this gets weird.”

“You’re going to bed already?” Mingi whines, “I was just getting started.”

“Tell ‘baby’ we said goodnight” Wooyoung says and Jongho hops right in with him. 

“Goodnight, baby.” 

“They said goodnight” Mingi huffs, his fingers at the ready to click the game off. 

“Goodnight boys!” you sing just before Mingi rips his headset off, tossing it off to the side with his controller.  

Never happy to see Mingi sulking, you take him by the arm, guiding him to lay by your side. He settles right in, tucking his arms around your waist to hold you tight. For all the things he’s tried to help him unwind, nothing’s ever seemed to work as much as being next to you has. Just the feeling of your body beside his like this, your fingers massaging his scalp as he runs his hand along the arch of your hip, is enough to make him forget that anything else in the world exists. It’s one of many reasons he rarely ever lets you leave. You wonder why you’re even paying rent at your place at this point. Outside of work 90% of your time is spent here with Mingi and—

You chew at your bottom lip, recalling what occurred a few minutes ago. You and Mingi aren’t the type to keep secrets from each other. Especially not about something like this. It might be Yunho’s worst nightmare for you to tell him but there would’ve never come a day where you didn’t. 

“Baby” you sigh, playing up an innocent voice that signals to him you’re about to say something not so innocent. 

Mingi grabs his phone, opening it up to check his notifications, “What’d you do?” 

“What’d I do? Why’s it always something I did?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that” he swears, kissing you on the nose, “So, what’d you do?”

You tug harshly at his hair, your own bit of revenge, “I didn’t do anything, well, I mean, kinda? You know how I had to go back and get my underwear from the bathroom?”

Mingi nods, invested in some message sent to him through the group chat but still allotting some attention to you. 

“Well…” you continue, “I found them and they were kinda…in Yunho’s mouth?”

Mingi begins to type a text message but stops in his tracks at the conclusion of your sentence. “They were what?” 

“He kinda sorta had them in his mouth and his dick was in his hand but it wasn’t, like, weird or anything” you ramble, trying to explain enough that the stunned look on your boyfriend’s face fades. If that were ever possible. 

Mingi responds to you with a long span of silence broken by hysterical laughter. “I knew it! I knew it! I told you. He’s a pervert.”

“Mingi, he’s not a pervert” you scold, finding the word a tad harsh. 

“I mean, I’m a pervert too” he shrugs, “I’m not that much of a pervert though. I knew he liked you but I didn’t know he was that serious about it. That’s kinda pathetic actually.”

“Pathetic? So, what are you saying? You’d never suck on my panties?” you ask, just to get a rise out of him. 

Mingi pinches the bottom of your shirt, raising it up to expose your lack of panties. “If you ever wore any around me maybe.”

You swat his hand away, taking your turn to pout, “That’s not the point, Mingi.”

Dropping his phone, Mingi stares intently at you, seriously contemplating Yunho's actions and your reaction to them. “Then what’s the point? You saw him doing it and what? You liked it?” 

There’s a shift in the bass of his voice, something different about his body language. You know what it looks like when your boyfriend gets jealous and with a few simple words you’ve more than gotten him there.

“I never said I liked it.”

Mingi rests a hand on your leg, skimming along your velvet skin to tuck a thumb right where your thighs kiss. “You never said you didn’t like it. Is that what you want me to be? Some pathetic little boy beating my dick to you cause I can’t have you for myself?” He slides his thumb up higher, coming into contact with your clit and he can already feel how swollen it is. 

A moan threatens to escape you, racing its way to the tip of your tongue but you choke it back, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “What would be so bad about that? Huh? Am I not good enough for you to beg for?” you ask, grabbing his wrist to still the slow circles he makes around your clit. 

Pressing harder against the sensitive nub, he grins at how your hips instinctively raise to meet his touch, “Don’t be a brat. You want it.” Even with the death grip you have on his wrist, he manages to sneak two fingers between your legs, dragging them along your entrance. You can feel yourself clenching, your arousal coating his fingers as he teases your slit. He’s right, you do want it, but you want something else much more. 

“What I want…” you say, your other hand clamping around his wrist, “Is for you to beg for it or you get nothing and I mean nothing.” You push him away, rolling over on your side, your back turned to him in the ultimate act of defiance. “Goodnight, Mingi.” 

It pains you to do this. Your clit’s throbbing from just a few seconds of contact, the warmth pooling below your waist worsening all the while, but you can’t let him have this. You never can. 

Mingi cuddles up behind you, his chin propped up on your shoulder. He’s giving you the eyes, those shimmering brown boba eyes that always make you soft for him, but you aren’t even looking his way. 

“You aren’t really going to sleep are you?” he pouts, sliding a hand up your shirt to squeeze your side. 

You throw out a fake yawn, shifting in bed to get more comfortable, and let your eyes fall closed, pretending he isn’t there. That’s the worst thing you can do to Mingi. Ignore him. Deprive him of your affection. He loves to present himself as indifferent, a man fully unaffected by whether you want him or not, but if you pull away even an inch he’s groveling at your feet. You enjoy it, maybe a little too much, but a girl has to have her fun. 

“Baby, turn back over…” he whispers, trailing kisses up your neck. He stops right behind your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, “Please.”

A chill washes over you and you arch your back, pushing your ass back into his growing bulge. You can’t help the faint smile that creeps across your lips at the sound he makes in response. He sounds like he wants you so badly it hurts. Good.

Gently nibbling at your ear, Mingi cups one of your breasts, his thumb and pointer finger coming together to apply light pressure to your nipple as it stiffens for him. “Pretty please. Just turn around. Just look at me, please.” 

The decision to give in isn’t an easy one. You could keep going like this all night if you wanted to, letting him have just enough of you to keep him hard until the sun rises, but you decide not to. Not out of compassion or pity but out of your own selfish desire to see the look on Mingi’s face when he’s this needy. 

Turning to face him, you find yourself far from disappointed at what you see. He has that look, the same one that Yunho did when he realized you were standing beside him, like the sun sets and rises in your eyes. It’s addictive. 

“You want me, Mingi?” you tease, your hand disappearing into his pants to palm the cock that aches so badly for you. You trace the veins along his shaft with your fingertips, feeling the blood rush to its swollen head.  

Mingi’s on the verge of a whimper, his mouth crashing into yours in an attempt to conceal it, but it tumbles out anyway and you stroke him faster, always wanting more. 

“Want you…mmm…need you” he mumbles between sloppy kisses, his arousal coating your palm. “Please…fuck…I need…I need…”

Snatching your hand back, you grab onto his shoulders, rolling him on top of you. You tug your shirt up over your head to leave yourself naked beneath him, your breasts sitting beautifully on your chest. “If you want me then take me.” 

You present it as if it’s a challenge. In a way it is and Mingi has no intention to back down. He’s on you before you can say another word, devouring your figure with his hands. You clumsily help him out of his clothes, tickled by his eagerness. It isn’t that Mingi doesn’t notice your amusement. It’s more so that he doesn’t care when he plans to fuck it right out of you anyway. 

“Mingi!” you squeak when he snatches you up, forcing himself between your legs, your ankles resting at his shoulders, his fingers digging into your plush hips. 

He aligns himself with your entrance, pushing the tip in to watch your juices leak around him and pulling back out at the last second. Licking his lips, he slides two fingers through your folds, rolling your clit between them. “Do you know how pretty you are?” 

“I don’t know” you pant, your body tingling from head to toe, “Show me.” 

Technicolor dots sprinkle your vision as he slams into you all at once, his thickness stretching you beyond what you remembered he could. You can’t control the way your body vibrates in response to the pleasure, the fullness almost too much to handle. Mingi reaches out for your neck, his fingers closing around it as his hips snap into you harder. You feel helpless, completely at his mercy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby” he grunts, his gaze drifting down to the place where your bodies meet. Each and every time he pulls back his cock’s wetter than before, dripping with juices so decadent he’d get down on his knees and lap them up right now if you asked him to. “You think Yunho could get you this wet? Think he could fuck you like me? Hmm?” 

You part your lips but nothing comes out, just short uneven breaths mimicking the English language. Mingi leans in close to you, his grip loosening, “Can he do it? Can he fuck you like I can?” 

“Aah…n-no…mmph” you moan, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself steady, “Only you, Mingi.” His hand closes around your throat once more and your words are lost again. Hooking an arm behind one of your legs, he pushes your knee to your chest, slipping in even deeper, and your vision blurs with tears, your stangled moans filling the air. 

Mingi can’t get over how precious you are. How ridiculously perfect you look taking his cock. From the first night he met you he knew that no other girl could make him feel the way that you do. You fit him like a glove. It’s like every groove and every dip, all the finer details of your walls, were crafted especially for him. Yunho could never make you feel this way because you weren’t made for him. You were made for Mingi. Even your body knows it. It tells him by the way it responds, clenching around him so tightly that he can barely move. 

“Baby…” you manage, locking your legs around him. You don’t need to say anything else. Your walls spasm so wildly that he can’t ignore the signs. You’re dangerously close and he’s right there with you. He has been from the start. He could’ve cum from the feeling of you alone and it took everything in him not to. 

“Say my name” he commands, reaching between you to play with your clit. 

Your body trembles from the overstimulation. It’s like you’re on a rollercoaster. Higher and higher, so high you’d think you were floating, and then that earth shattering, mind blowing drop.

“Mingi!” you cry his name out loud and clear.

Mingi turns your neck loose, enveloping you in a kiss just in time to spill into you, his seed filling you up deep inside, dripping down your thighs to make a warm sticky mess. Your tongues are still entangled when you both come down. Your spent bodies melting into each other’s. 

“You can have your fun” Mingi whispers between your lips, “Just make sure you remember who you belong to.” 

He eases down on the bed, resting his head on your chest, and you run your fingers through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead. You smile to yourself, knowing that you got exactly what you wanted in every way. How cute it is that Mingi thinks you’re the one that belongs to him when he’s the one who belongs to you. 

He can’t go out there. Yunho’s been pacing his bedroom floor for 15 minutes trying to figure out what to do. But whatever he does he can’t go out there. He thought that if he woke up early enough he’d be able to prevent this but by the time he finished brushing his teeth you were both wide awake. Now he can hear the two of you in the kitchen, playing your music and cooking breakfast like you always do.

He turns to his bedroom window, contemplating how bad a fall from the 6th floor could really be. He’s tall enough to make it…maybe? Maybe he could call out of work. He has enough vacation days to make up for it. He could just crawl back into bed and pretend to be sick, hiding away until both of you left the apartment. 

The possibility dawns on him that you haven’t told Mingi at all. If you had, he probably would’ve murdered Yunho in his sleep. If not then why? What reason could you have for keeping this a secret? Then again, what reason do you have for anything you do?

“What? Are you dead?” Mingi says, bursting into Yunho’s room, nearly giving him a heart attack. 

Yunho tries to act natural, scrambling to pick up a few things from the floor to pretend he’s cleaning. “Knock much?” 

Mingi pats him on the back, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Stop being so sassy. Breakfast is ready. Come eat with us.”

“I-I can’t. I have to get ready for work.” 

“You don’t work for what? Another hour? You’ve got time. Come on” Mingi insists, emptying the contents of Yunho’s arms onto the nearby bed. 

Yunho stands frozen, unsure what to do. He’s always found Mingi’s stubbornness charming but in this moment he completely despises it. “I told you I can’t—”

“Let’s go!” Mingi cheers, yanking Yunho out towards the kitchen before he can think of protesting again. 

Yunho blinks, his eyes adjusting to the bright sunny kitchen where you dance around the table pouring drinks into three glasses. The plates are already set, the delicious aroma of an expertly cooked breakfast filling the apartment. Your food’s always the best, he usually rushes to the table to inhale it, but today he stares at it like it’s been secretly poisoned. 

“Good morning, Yunie” you sing, twirling past him to place the container of juice back in the fridge. 

Yunho takes a seat, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than he’d like it to. You’re wearing the same shirt from last night with the addition of a pair of rose pink panties and some cute mismatched socks from Mingi’s favorite anime. Your hair’s messy but not a mess and you’ve yet to put your makeup on. Both men prefer you like this but only one can admit it. 

Mingi sits across from him, digging right into his meal. “So…” he says through a mouthful of food, “Are we going to Wooyoung’s party later or what?” 

“Eat” you whisper, gesturing towards Yunho’s plate and he does. “I don’t know, baby. I just have this feeling that somehow you’re gonna end up on that stupid fucking game and I’ll just be sitting there bored by myself. Unless, of course, Yunie’s gonna come keep me company.” 

Yunho nearly chokes on his food, rushing to take a sip of his drink to wash it down. “Keep you company? I don’t think…I mean…I don’t really know if I’ll have time. I’m kinda busy tonight” 

Mingi tilts his head, eyeing Yunho curiously, “You’re acting weird today. What’s up with you?”

“Weird? I’m not acting weird.” 

“Mingi, leave him alone” you sigh, easing down into Mingi’s lap. You pick a strawberry from the plate of fruit at the center of the table, flicking the leaves away. “If he doesn’t wanna come, he doesn’t wanna come. Maybe our boy has a date or something.”

“I don’t have a date” Yunho’s forcing out so quickly the worlds almost get jumbled. There've been girls in the past, too many to remember, but lately he’s found himself uninterested in them, his brain too preoccupied with one in particular to focus on any others, and for some reason he finds himself longing for you to know that. 

You take a bite of the strawberry, your lips pursed sensually around the fruit. Some juice drips down your chin and you wipe it away, licking it from your fingers. “So you’ll come for me then, Yunie?” 

Yunho’s jaw nearly drops to the floor. You couldn't have said what he thought you said. He must still be half asleep. “I’m sorry. What’d you just say?” 

“You’ll come for me. To the party.” 

“Oh…yeah, the party. I’ll come.” 

Turning back to feed Mingi the remainder of the strawberry, you share a knowing glance before turning back to Yunho. 

“What did you think she said?” Mingi asks, honing in on Yunho’s weak spot like a trained sniper ready to pull the trigger. 

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop. No one moves. No one speaks. Yunho’s so nervous it’s oozing off of him and you can feel it creeping across the table right into your lap. Just as the tension becomes unbearable you and Mingi erupt into laughter giving Yunho the feeling that there’s a joke he isn’t in on and he doesn’t like it one bit. 

“Thank you for the food but I really should get ready for work” he huffs, pushing his chair back to get up. 

“No, wait, hold on!” you say, hopping from Mingi’s lap right into Yunho’s. You poke out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him sweetly. “I didn’t make you mad did I?” 

“I’m not mad at you, I—” his sentence trails off as he registers where you are. Straddling his lap…with no pants on…and your boyfriend sitting close enough to punch his teeth out. 

Yunho keeps his hands at his sides, careful not to touch you, but that does nothing to stop you from touching him. Brushing his hair out of his face, you subtly grind yourself down onto his lap, marveling at how handsome he looks fresh out of bed. “You look sexy with your hair pushed back. You should wear it like that tonight.” 

“Y-you should get up” he stutters, dodging any chance of eye contact with Mingi. He doesn’t want to push you off but he doesn’t want to get hit either. 

“Do you want me to get up or do you think he does?” Placing your arms around Yunho’s neck, you lace your fingers together, leaning your head back to address your boyfriend. “Baby, you want me to get up?” Mingi shakes his head, fully invested in the plate of food in front of him. “See? My boyfriend says ‘Yes’. What do you say?” 

Yunho takes a deep breath, the room suddenly feeling ten times smaller than it previously was. “What do I say about what?”

Mingi takes another quick bite of his food, rising from his seat to stand beside you. You look up at him with the brightest smile. His little demon. “What do you say about her?” he says, kissing you so deeply you almost tip out of Yunho’s lap. When he breaks from the kiss he pets your hair as your lips drift closer to Yunho’s mouth. 

“You want me, Yunie, yes or no?” you ask despite being able to feel the answer stiffening between your legs. 

Yunho hesitates, his eyes flicking back and forth between Mingi and you. Mingi. You. Mingi. You. Mingi. You. Yunho grabs your face, kissing you hungrily, months of pent up tension pouring onto your lips. You must admit, you didn’t know he had this in him. There’s enough passion to get drunk off of and you’re ready to down every shot of it he’ll give you.

Not one to share you too much, Mingi grabs the back of your neck, pouring his everything into another kiss. He only has you to himself for a split second before Yunho’s pulling you back to him. You find yourself breathless, being bounced back and forth between two men so quickly that everything’s a blur. There’s a mouth on you at all times. Pressed to your own. Kissing your neck. Marking your collarbone. 

Tilting you back towards the table, Yunho pushes your shirt up, capturing one of your breasts in his mouth. It fills the space between his cheeks, muffling his moans as he twirls his tongue around your bud. Still kissing you, Mingi reaches down to cup the other, enjoying the weight of it in his hand.

“Mmph, harder” you moan for both of them to hear. 

They’re beyond happy to do as you ask. Yunho’s teeth and Mingi’s fingers closing around your nipples. You can’t touch your panties to say for sure but you know they must be wet. Completely soaked through. Ruined.

Reaching your hand out to hold onto Mingi’s leg, you mistakenly come in contact with his clothed cock. The first brush may be an accident but the second isn’t and neither is the third. Determined not to let Yunho feel left out, you squeeze your hand between your bodies, massaging his bulge through his pants. Neither man can hide the ecstasy of what you’re doing to them, rutting themselves against your palm and moaning like it’s the best thing they’ve felt in their lives. 

What’s that word Mingi used to describe Yunho again? “Pathetic” was it? What would he call himself now? Is this not pathetic? Is this not pitiful? For you it’s none of the above and both in the same breath. They’re both pitiful in a needy, endearing sense. In a sense that you want them to be this way over you and only you. There was once a day where you couldn’t imagine anything better than one man who’s willing to worship you but now you know there’s something much better. Two. 

Tucking a finger between the band of Mingi’s underwear and his bare skin, you tug at the elastic. “Gimmie” you command, your head back, tongue sticking out to the sky. You do the same to Yunho and your body rises as he rocks his hips, freeing himself from the confines of his pants. 

Yunho’s heard you with Mingi before. The walls in this apartment aren’t the thickest and you’re far from one of the quieter girls Mingi’s been with. He’s gotten off to the sound a couple of times, picturing how you might look in all manner of ways, but he never imagined he’d actually be here to watch you open your mouth expectantly, taking Mingi’s cock to the back of your throat like gag reflexes don’t exist. 

Mingi strokes your cheeks, admiring how puffy they get with him filling them up. “You’re doing so well, baby, fuck…” he beams and you wiggle your tongue on the underside of his shaft, relaxing the muscles of your throat to take him better. In your hand Yunho��s dripping with enough arousal for your hand to smoothly skate up and down his length, circling the rim with your thumb before massaging it back to the base.

You easily set a rhythm, perfectly balancing the two. Mingi in your mouth and Yunho in your hand. The arch of your tongue. The rotation of your wrist. With Mingi it’s simple, you know what he likes and you know how to do it, but with Yunho it’s different. You have to learn him as you go. Which spots make him quiver. Which angles make him twitch. Lucky for the both of you, you’re a quick learner and symphony of hushed moans whispers that you’re doing it just right. 

Keeping an arm looped around your waist, Yunho gradually pushes your panties aside, giving you every opportunity to protest. When all you do is push your hips toward him he takes it as a sign, rolling his thumb through the warmth of your folds to find your clit. Your body jerks when he bumps up against it, a melodic hum of satisfaction vibrating around Mingi’s cock.

You lift your hips letting another of Yunho’s fingers slide along your entrance. When you come back down his finger slips in, your drenched hole sucking it right up. There’s an audible squelching as he swishes his finger around, your juices already leaking down into his palm. His fingertip finds that soft, spongy spot inside of you and curls into it, and you rock into him. Your body’s way of saying, “Yes. More. Please.” Yunho hears you loud and clear, pressing harder, delving deeper. 

Hearing your moans turn to strained whines, Mingi grabs the back of your head, gliding himself out of your mouth until just the head of his cock rests at the edge of your tongue. His cock’s still pulsing, pink and glistening with your spit, as the tip traces your puffy lips leaving them shimmering with his precum. You wiggle your tongue, pushing your head forward to draw him back in but he doesn’t let you. 

“Breathe for me” he says, teasing you with an inch, “I can’t have my baby girl choking, can I?” 

Following his instructions you take a few deep breaths, feeling the cool rush of air through your lungs. You hadn’t even noticed the deprivation and the sudden introduction of hair leaves your head spinning. 

“You okay?” Yunho asks, running a comforting hand across the small of your back. 

“I’m okay” you smile as cutely as you ever have, offering Mingi the same confirmation. “I’m okay so give it back to me now.” 

“You want it that badly?” he asks and you nod impatiently. “Then take it.”

Mingi thrusts into your mouth, stealing away your last breath of precious air. With how hard he’s fucking your throat you’d think it’s been weeks. You’d think he wasn’t just inside of you last night making you scream his name like it’s the only word you know.

Drool leaks down your chin, your hollowed out cheeks greedily accepting everything he gives you. Yunho sneaks another finger inside of you, scissoring you open, spreading you wide, his thumb still rubbing your clit at a merciless pace. At the start you were intentional, calculating your every move, but now your movements are mindless. You’re a slave to pleasure and everything else is secondary. 

In the midst of it all an odd feeling overcomes you. A tugging at your heart that makes you think that you never want this to end. You could stay like this forever. Spend every single morning with them like this. It may not be holding hands in the park on a sunny day but there’s something romantic about this moment. Something tender in the perversion of it all. The reason behind it begins to surface. A word that you try to chase away as soon as it begins to spell itself out. L…Lo…Lov…

“Oh god…” Yunho gasps, his eyes widening in shock at the suddenness of his orgasm. 

He hadn’t even felt it coming, he just knew he had at least a few more minutes in him, but here he is spilling all over your hand, covering your black nail polish in a sheet of white. He fingers you harder, bouncing you in his lap, wanting you to hit your high before he comes down from his.

The warmth of his cum splashing against your exposed pussy is enough to make you lose control and you give him just what he wants, your body going limp as your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. You feel a vacancy in your throat and open your mouth to scream but it’s muffled by a sudden rush of liquid cascading across your tongue. Mingi keeps your head steady as he empties himself into you, making sure you don’t miss a drop, and you lap it up happily, kissing the tip as he pulls out. 

There’s a whooshing in your ears and your limbs feel like jello. You’re a sticky little mess who can barely hold herself up and you love it. You love it so much. Planting a clumsy, dizzy kiss on your lips, Mingi stumbles back to his seat, almost missing his chair as he plops down. Yunho tucks himself back into his pants and you spin back around to face Mingi, elbows propped up on the table, chin resting in your palms. 

“So…” you say, still gasping for air, “You boys still got room for breakfast?”

[arandomao3user]

. . . So, like, I'm 1000% a TimBern shipper, but I can actually picture Joker Junior! Tim Drake in "Love Me (For Who I Was)" totally hitting it off with either of them or both.

Like, I cannot bring myself to be a TimKon shipper, but you fools made me imagine J.J. Tim and Kon. And. I hate you all. Because it works better than TimBernn in my AU and I hate that.

Again, only like two of you follow me for this story, but I will still feed y'all as you wait for my dumbahh to write the fic and stop goofing around and making, like, 200 people suffer and die waiting.

—

Jason taking Tim to Metropolis to follow a lead

Jason: So, you're not gonna do anythin' stupid.

Tim, giggling: I swear on my grave!

Jason: Y'know how little that means to me? Fine.. Fine! Shoo, text me if you break another bone.

Tim, running off with his flamethrower: YES!!! FREEDOM!!!

Jason: I already regret this.

—

Kon, as superboy, somehow getting roped into letting Tim, whom he just met, paint his nails: Where'd you even get nail polish from?

Tim: I carry around three things on my person at all times, nail polish, fire, and flammable markers.

Kon, teasing: Should I be concerned your gonna get into trouble?

Tim, poking paint at the tip of his nose: I already have, boy of tomorrow.

Kon, leaning in: Oh, and what trouble is that?

Tim: You.

Jason, from the ground because Tim is up on a billboard: TIMOTHY JACKSON JASON PETER DRAKE TODD, GET YOUR A#& DOWN HERE AND STOP FLIRTING WITH ALIENS I SWEAR TO F#-%#&@ GOD!

Tim: I HOPE RENA DUMPS AGAIN!

Jason: I DIED THE FIRST TIME!

Tim, the overdramatic teen we all know he is: I WISH I WAS DEAD!

—

Kon, showing up outside Tim's hotel room window, knocking gently:

Tim, throwing it open and cackling: Stalker!

Kon: Sorry, I kinda memorized your heartbeat. It beats... Crazy fast.

Tim: I'm very excitable.

Kon: It's beating faster now.

Tim: Certain people make me really excitable.

Kon: I'm one of those?

Tim: You're the only one of those...

—

Tim, setting fire to a trashcan:

Kon, who definitely didn't set out looking for Tim again: What did that trash do to you?

Tim: Oh, nothing, I just like fire!

Kon: Sounds dangerous.

Tim: I like danger.

Kon: You seem to like a lot of things... So, uh, your... Brother?

Tim: Uh huh, Red Hood-uh.

Kon: Yeah, um, so, he kinda already said your name was... Uh, Timothy?

Tim: I go by Tim.

Kon: Yeah, so, uh! I'm... Well, I can't just give you my name, obviously, but...

Tim: No worries, Boy super.

Kon: You're really weird.

Tim: You're an alien, you're even weirder.

Kon: Maybe we could be weird together..?

Tim: You'll need my flamethrowers permission, but otherwise, I'd like that!

Kon: Cool.

Tim: No, it's not, it's very hot.

Tim, lifting his flamethrower and giving it an aggressive shake: Fire is hot.

—

Back in Gotham

Tim, kicking open Stephanie's window: SPOILER!

Stephanie: I'm not even in costume right now, coloring book.

Tim: STEPHANIE!

Stephanie, sighing and closing her laptop: Yes, Todd Two?

Tim: I have a date.

Stephanie: With who?

Tim: UNIMPORTANT, TEACH ME SOCIAL CUES!

Stephanie: Does Jason know about this?

Tim: No, you're my alibi.

Stephanie: Wow, not even asking permission? Shame, shame on you.

Tim: Stephanie this is the most important thing in the history. Prepare me for relationships.

Stephanie: Hmm, can I say be yourself and hope it works out?

Tim: It's superboy.

Stephanie:

Stephanie: The fu—

—

Kon, running a finger along the scars on Tim's cheeks: Where'd these come from?

Tim: Pumpkin carving gone wrong?

Kon: I dunno how likely that is, but you are from Gotham, so...

Tim: I'm crazy.

Kon: Huh?

Tim: Fair warning, I was in an asylum, I was broken out, I'm certified insane, lunatic, coo coo...

Kon: Hey.

Tim: Hey.

Kon: I was grown in a lab, by a crazy rich dude. You're a lot more tolerate brand of crazy... By miles, actually, so, uh. I don't have any issue with crazy.

Tim: Cool.

Kon: No, it's not, it's very hot.

Kon, flicking Tim's flamethrower: Fire is hot.

—

Tim, coming home one day with a piercing in his ear: Jason, look! :D

Jason, loading his gun with kryptonite:

—

[backtothedrawingboard]

Take A Break part 2 but it turns into a tickle fight

Take a Break Part 2

Switch!Doey + Switch!Reader

Summary: You plan on doing one of Poppy's tasks again, even after agreeing with Doey to take it easy for a while. While the two of you relax, chaos ensues.

CW: Tickle fic, cussing, mentions of starvation

TW: None

AN: Part 2 of this fic!

~~~~~~~~~~

The wiring was annoying as hell. You growled and tore out the useless stuff. Poppy's instructions to fix the lighting pissed you off. You weren't even an engineer. Why did she always give you the mechanical stuff?? You held the flashlight in your mouth so both hands were free as you fiddled with the lighting.

It had been a couple days since Doey forced you to relax. You appreciated his care for you...but it just led to a more difficult job of fixing the damn lights. Just those two days caused the system to break down more and melted the wiring together. You took the parts retrieved from a scavenge and replaced the old broken down pieces. You flinched when bright lights filled the lobby. Finally.

You stood up and rubbed the back of your head wearily. Now to find food. You headed towards the infirmary to exit through the sewer system. As you walked, a large hand grabbed your shoulder.

"Hey, wait," the deep, comforting voice said. You turned and looked up.

"Oh. Hey, Doey. What's up?" you asked.

"Are you doing more scavenging?"

"Yeah. Gotta find some food. Why?"

Doey's expression turned serious. "I'm coming with you," he growled. "I don't like you being out there by yourself. And besides, I can carry more than you."

You smiled. Ordinarily, you would decline the offer. But the company sounded nice. "Alright. I was thinking we could look by the offices. There could be some snacks we missed last time."

You led the way out of the Safe Haven and started the trek to the office wing. It was risky with the Prototype out there, but there was a good chance of finding something there.

The scavenge proved more than successful. Doey had accidentally bumped into a large chunk of debris and revealed a door neither of you were aware of. Inside, there was a decent store of canned goods and snacks. The two of you collected absolutely everything. It was enough for everyone in the Haven to have a small portion and put the rest in the pantry to ration.

The success put both you and Doey in a good mood. You arrived back at the Haven and dumped the goodies on the ground. The kids all excitedly swarmed. No surprises there. You, Doey, and Kissy helped separate portions for everyone. The sickest and those that were starving got more than the rest. Their survival depended on it.

You put the remaining rations in the pantry. Before leaving, you snatched yourself your share: a couple pieces of canned mango. You headed back to the lobby and settled on your sleeping bag. Doey was next to you on his pillow pile, nibbling at a piece of peach and some chocolate. You grinned at him.

"Trying to savor it?" you teased.

Your friend smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Ehe. Yeah. I haven't had anything sweet in a long time."

"Yeah. Me neither." You sucked down your mango pieces ravenously. Doey laughed.

"Jeez! How did you not choke?" he giggled.

"I dunno!" you giggled with him.

The doughman finished off his rations and sat back with a sigh. "Thank goodness we found food when we did...I don't know how long most of them would've lasted," he muttered.

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Hopefully Izzy will be alright now..."

"I'm sure she will be. She's always been a fighter"

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you looked out at the rest of the lobby. With a little food in their bellies, some of the toys played a game of soccer with their newfound energy. You sighed and stood. Doey looked up at you in confusion.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Ugh. Poppy told me to-"

"Poppy told you to do something? Seriously?"

You looked down. "Uh. Yeah," you murmured.

The doughman shook his head in exasperation. "Y/N. We talked about this. We both need to relax for a while. The lighting had to be fixed, but I know for a fact nothing else is required now. A couple days isn't enough to recover from a mental breakdown." He set a hand on your back. You nodded a little and leaned against him, settling your head against his chest.

He sighed and played with your hair gently. "Does this mean you'll relax a little?"

"Y-yeah..." you mutter. "I guess I could still use a break..."

"Good. Cause I always know a method that'll work for you." You could hear that silly tone in his voice. It always meant he was up to something. You looked up just in time for his fingers to dig under your arms.

"Eee! Wait! Doeheheheheeey!" you giggled.

"Hehe! Yeeees?" He wiggled his pointer fingers, causing you to squeak and kick a little.

"Heheheeey! Whyyyyy?"

"Why? Cause you need a laugh!" Two more hands sprouted from his torso and grabbed your waist. You squealed and jumped as the fingers squeezed your ribs and hips.

"Doeyyyahahaha!" you cried. You bucked and squirms from the left and right and gripped the hands on your hips frantically.

"Hehehe! No escape! Unless you tell me to stop!" He grinned down at you and narrowed his eyes. Your face went red. You didn't protest, just laughed and squirmed.

Doey giggled and tweaked your ribs. You squeaked and jolted at each pinch.

"Awww! Is that a bad spot?" he teased. You giggled and nodded, hiding your face in your hands.

"Heyyy! Dont hide your face!" He halfheartedly pulled at your hands but didn't force them away. You squealed and kicked.

"No no! Not there! Kkkehehehehe!" You squirmed. His fingers were pinching in between your ribs and sending jolts of tingles through your body.

"Oh? Not here? How about here? Or here? Or here?" He pinched different ribs, causing you to lean against him further and giggle madly.

"Eheheee! Doeheheheeey!" You kicked yourself somewhat free and managed to turn and face him.

"Whaaat?" he teased. "I'm just cheering you up!"

"Yeah? Wehell take THIHIHIS!" You squished his belly in your hands. You didn't know if it would work or not but-

"Heheheey! D-don't do that, pal!" Score.

You grinned and kept squishing. "Oh? Why's that? A little ticklish?"

"Yes!" Doey giggled. "Very! Hehehehe!" He squirmed against you. His hands clutched the sides of his head rather than pushing at yours.

"Awww! What're you doin' bud?" you snickered.

"I don't- hehehe!- I don't wanna hurt you!" he cried.

"Awwww. I appreciate the concern. But now that just means I can do this!" You skittered your fingers up under his arms. A wheeze escaped him and his hands slammed down to his sides.

"Oops! Guess I'm stuck here now!" you teased. You wiggled your fingers vigorously. He wheezed again and kicked his stubby legs a bit.

"Oh my gohohoHOHOOOSHHH!" He squealed and twisted around. His laugh went up and down in pitch.

"D'awwwww! You have a cute laugh bud!" you giggled.

"Shush! I do nohot!" He covered his eyes with his hands.

"Yes you doooo! Just the cutest laugh!" You pulled your hands free and skittered your fingers all over his torso.

Doey squealed with laughter. His little legs kicked every which way and he rolled from side to side. "You little-!"

"What? Bitch? Is that what you were gonna call me?"

"Hey!" Your friend tried to sound serious, but it was hard to through his giggles. "Don't cuss!"

"Yeah, yeaEEE!" He grabbed your sides and poked them repeatedly. You toppled against him and giggled against his chest.

"That's what you get for cussing!" He squealed when you kneaded his sides.

"And that's what you get-" You were cut off by your own snort. "-for fighting back!"

Doey laughed, both at you and because of the tickles.

You felt four hands poking and skittering all over your sides and belly, occasionally wandering to squeeze your knees and lower thighs. You couldn't help but flail against him and laugh, but you held strong and squeezed his belly and sides.

"Doey! Nohohot theheERE!" You couldn't stand the hip and rib squeezes.

"Then gihive up!" Doey teased. You stopped tickling him and squirmed madly, trying your hardest to wiggle away.

"OK! Ok! You wihin! Stahahahahaaaap!" you cried.

The doughman let go of your ribs and hips, retracting his extra set of hands back into himself. You pulled you close and rubbed your back gently. "Hehe. There we go. Glad you took that break?" he murmured.

You nodded and yawned. "Yeah. Thanks." You leaned against him and settled with your head on his lap. He smiled down at you and rubbed your arm.

"Remember, pal. It's alright to take it easy every now and then. Your health matters just as much as any of ours," he said softly.

"Yeah. I know...Thank you..."

[strwbrrychnnie]

hiii! can i request for a top!male manager/reader x bang chan and han jisung? preferably with double pen OR spitroasting scene, you can decide who gets to bottom as long as M reader is one of the tops (or both of the members trying to fight who bottoms bcs they like reader’s dick but only one gets to bottom)

thank you!! im glad there’s one more M!reader writer here 😞

< under you >

pairing:: bang chan x han jisung x top!male manager reader genre:: smut, slow burn (if ur used to it getting straight to the point) word count:: 10238 summary:: you’re skz’s main manager. they’ve secretly all been pining for you, chan and jisung more than the rest. after you tease chan a little too much one night, it all comes to light. warnings:: smut !!! chan is pathetic. puppy chan. spitroasting. unprotected sex. praise. misuse of honorifics ++ age dynamic. crying . light bondage . notes:: i am SO sorry. this request has been collecting dust in my inbox for almost a full year and i finally finished it. i hope this is worth the wait<3 i love the likes, but if you guys have any comments feel free to share :3 i love the little notes you guys left on the last one

3RACHA overwork. You know this. They know this. The past couple of weeks, while they’ve supposed to be on break, the three producers have been grinding away in the studio. You’re worried about them– especially Chan, who will stay in the studio until the sun rises. So you’re sitting back on the couch, in Chan's studio, making sure the three boys don’t work too hard.

Chan’s focused, his brow furrowed and his lips pulled into a tight pout as he messes with the demos. Jisung’s sitting next to you, typing lyrics on his phone as Chan plays the tracks out loud. Changbin, sitting on the ground against Chan's desk, groans at a text.

“Agh, god.” Changbin stands up, stretching his arms. “I forgot I made plans with Hyune tonight. Can you guys deal without me?” You hold back a laugh and Chan leans back in his chair, looking at Changbin upside down.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Have fun with your wife.” Chan smiles and Jisung giggles. Changbin flicks Chan’s forehead and unplugs his charger.

“You’re just jealous, hyung.” Changbin sticks out his tongue, walking towards the door and ruffling Jisung's hair. “Bye, Sungie.”

“Bye, hyung.” Jisung reaches up and squeezes Changbin’s hand. Changbin opens the door and walks out, shutting the door behind him. Chan pauses the track and stretches his arms high over his head, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of his abs.

“Well, I think we’ve made a lot of progress today. My brain’s starting to go numb.” Chan sighs, making a groaning noise that ignites a flame deep inside your stomach. You tongue the inside of your cheek, staring intently at the exposed sliver of Chan’s pale skin. You shake it off, taking a deep breath, looking up at Chan's face.

“You all have done really well today,” you slowly work through your words. “Don’t stress about it, you can get back to it tomorrow if that’s what you want to spend your free time on.” Chan spins around in his chair, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Don’t worry about me. I'm not stressed, just a little tired. I'm going to stay here and work on some other tracks, in case you want to stick around. Jisungie?” Jisung perks up, looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, I'm gonna stay. I like the company.” Jisung looks over at you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Y/Nie hyung?” You smile, patting Jisung's thigh.

“I'll stay. As long as I'm not a bother.” Chan shakes his head, smiling shyly.

“You could never be a bother, Y/Nie hyung. You know that.” Chan says softly, stretching again. This time his shirt rides up even higher, revealing more of his skin. “Agghh. I've been sitting for too long. That feels good.” Chan stands up, closing his eyes and stretching his legs out. You huff, averting your eyes.

“Stretching? Or do you just like showing your skin, Chan?” You stare off to the side of Chan. He blushes and glances down, not having realized that his shirt had ridden up.

“Ah– sorry. I didn't mean– sorry.” Chan yanks his shirt down, hiding away that tantalizing strip of skin. You chuckle, running a hand through your hair.

“No worries. You’re okay.” It's cute, you think. He's so confident on stage, stripping every other performance, but he blushes when his stomach shows accidentally around friends. Chan rubs the back of his neck, sitting back down. He has a small, embarrassed smile on his face and his ears are bright red. Chan clears his throat, turning back around in his chair.

“Right. Well. Let’s get back to work, yeah?” Chan’s voice wavers, his face hidden from you. Jisung looks between you and Chan, a smirk growing on his face. You glare at him playfully, warning him to keep his mouth shut. Jisung chuckles and raises his hands in defeat, shooting a knowing smile at you. You flip him off behind Chan’s back and Jisung bursts out into a giggling fit, slapping your hand down.

Jisung hops up, kneeling down next to Chan and pointing at a track on Chan’s laptop. “Hyung, what’s this one?” Your interest is piqued, looking up over Chan’s shoulder to see Jisung pointing to a file called ‘Under You.’ You can see Chan visibly stiffen, his ears blushing pink.

“Ah, that’s– that’s just something I've been working on for fun. I won't make it a Stray Kids song. It’s not finished, but it’s coming along okay, I think.” He turns slightly to face Jisung, and you can see the side of his face. Chan slightly glances your way, then looks back to his laptop, biting his bottom lip.

Your body heats up– a song called ‘Under You,’ at the mention of which Chan looked at you immediately. Your thoughts are racing a million miles a minute, and Jisung voices those thoughts without hesitation.

“Just for fun? Sounds like another ‘Railway,’ hm?” Jisung teases, pinching Chan’s cheek. Chan hisses, slapping Jisung’s hand away, squirming in his seat.

“No, I mean– no. I was just messing around with some samples and throwing some lyrics together. It’s not about anyo– it’s not about anything in particular.” Chan babbles, closing the tab of his demos.

“There's already lyrics, hyung?” Jisung giggles. “Come on, we HAVE to hear it now.” You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest.

“C’mon, Channie. Sungie wants to hear it.” You want to hear it, too, but you won’t openly admit that. Chan hesitates, glancing back at you from the corner of his eye before looking back at his laptop. He takes a deep breath, opening the tab back up. With the click of a button, the demo plays.

The song is slow and sensual– it sounds like a copy of ‘Railway,’ practically. But Chan’s voice comes in, soft and breathy. You can’t make out most of the lyrics because of the vocal effects and how quiet his voice is, but his tone is downright sinful. It sounds like he’s on his knees, pleading for– 

You close your eyes, making fists with your hands. Stop. You can’t be thinking this way about the man who practically employs you. You open your eyes to see Jisung looking between you and Chan, holding back a giggle. Chan’s gaze is trained on his laptop screen, a faint blush creeping up on the back of his neck, stopping the song after not even a full minute. The room falls silent as Chan hesitantly turns to face Jisung, avoiding your gaze. You tilt your head to the side, looking up at Chan’s reddening face.

“Another explicit song, mm?” You chuckle. “It's good! I like it. Though I don't listen to songs like it often.” Chan laughs awkwardly, reaching up to tug at his ear.

“Ah, yeah, thanks. Like I said, it’s not about anyo– anything in particular, just experimenting with the track.” He looks back at his computer, very obviously ignoring the way you’re devouring him with your eyes.

You hum. “Sure, Channie.” A beat of silence passes before Jisung speaks up, gently pushing and pulling Chan’s shoulder.

“Oh, come on, hyung, it’s so OBVIOUSLY about Y/Nie hyung.” You choke on air, hiding your eyes with your hand. A strangled noise escapes Chan’s throat, his face burning as he glares at Jisung.

“I swear to god, Jisung, I’ll end you if you don’t shut the fuck up–” Chan slaps Jisung’s shoulder as he attempts to block the hits. You smile, chewing the inside of your cheek as you look at Chan’s back. As soon as you stand up, Chan stops hitting Jisung, hearing your steps move closer to him. You gently place your hands on Chan’s shoulders and he freezes, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Channie,” you whisper, softly massaging Chan’s tensed shoulders. “Turn around.”

Chan slowly turns around in his chair, the room dead silent as the chair squeaks beneath him. You look down at Chan, your hands moving to the sides of Chan’s shoulders.

“Is the song about me, Chan?” You ask softly, rubbing circles with your thumbs into Chan’s skin. Chan hesitates, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before quickly flickering down. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to find the right words. He breathes out a small response, but you can’t make it out. You move one hand off Chan’s shoulder, tilting up Chan’s chin. “Mm? I didn’t catch that.”

Chan’s cheeks flush a deep red, looking up at your face. He repeats himself with a small pout on his lips, barely above a whisper. “Yes. It’s about you, sir.”

Jisung giggles. “I knew it.” You narrow your eyes at him and he shuts up, his eyes widening as his lips close tight. You turn back to Chan, scratching under his chin.

“You two have talked about me, haven’t you? About this?” Chan glances at Jisung, chewing on his lip.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah. We've talked about you before.” Chan whispers, looking down at your chest to avoid your eyes. “God, this is so embarrassing,” he groans, bringing a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose. You shake your head, kneeling down in front of Chan. You place a hand on Chan’s knee and the other on Jisung’s thigh. Chan gulps, looking down at you with blown pupils as Jisung stops breathing.

“It's okay. Thank you for being honest with me.” You squeeze Chan’s knee, turning to look at Jisung. “Sungie, have you thought about me in that way, too?” Jisung blinks blankly, just now remembering to breathe and nearly hyperventilating.

“Uhm… yeah. Yes, sir. I have.” He stutters, biting his bottom lip.

“Good. Thank you for being honest with me, too.” You smile, looking back to Chan. “Channie. It's okay. Really. Look at me.” Chan nods, chewing his bottom lip, eyes meeting yours. You pout teasingly, tracing patterns into Chan’s knee. “You look adorable. I've never seen you like this.”

Chan turns even more red, if possible, spluttering. He tries to compose himself as he blinks rapidly, shaking his head. “D-don’t say things like that, hyung.”

“Mhm? You don’t like it?” You stand up, lifting Chan’s chin up only to take your hand away, stepping back to sit on the couch. “Okay. Then I'll stop.”

Crestfallen, Chan’s eyes follow your hand as it leaves his chin and Jisung whines pathetically at the loss on his thigh. Chan pouts, reaching his hand slightly out to you. “Y/Nie hyung, please–” You tilt your head to the side, crossing your arms.

“Please, what? Use your words.” Chan whines, shifting around in his seat awkwardly. Jisung watches Chan with bated breath as Chan looks up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“You’re m-mean. I want… you to keep saying nice things to me.” Chan whispers.

You smile, looking at Jisung. “Have you ever seen him like this, Sungie?” Jisung shakes his head, eyes wide and amused. He's slowly getting back into a solid headspace.

“Never. He's always so dominant, maybe a little shy sometimes. But this is… wild.” You nod, leaning back, patting the couch next to you.

“Come sit with me, Jisung.” Jisung scrambles up, plopping down next to you. Chan watches you two, silently fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. You lay your arm on the cushion of the couch behind Jisung, your hand draped over Jisung’s shoulder. “Channie looks so cute, doesn’t he?” Jisung nuzzles into your arm, smiling at Chan.

“Yeah. He’s always been cute, but… this is a whole new side of him.” You nod, looking at Chan, who’s pouting and looking at the two of you on the couch with pleading eyes. 

“Need something, baby?” Chan squeaks at the pet name, looking away with a huff.

“Stop it, hyung. You’re teasing me.”

“I'll give you what you want if you tell me what it is, sweetheart.” Chan whimpers again, sticking out his bottom lip and looking between you and Jisung. He squirms, biting down hard on his lip.

“I just– I wanna be held, hyung. I wanna–” He cuts himself off, flushing an even deeper shade of red. You chuckle, setting your legs together and patting your lap.

“C’mere, sweet boy.” Chan’s cheeks heat up, his eyes blown wide as he slowly stands up and walks over. He hesitantly sits in your lap, straddling your legs, wrapping his arms around your neck. You smile down at Chan, still towering over him even when he’s sitting in your lap. You wrap an arm around his waist, holding him close. “Hi, pretty.” Jisung sits a little closer, running his hand down Chan’s back. Chan buries his face in your neck, whining softly. He shifts on your lap, clearly flustered. You chuckle, bringing your hand up to caress the nape of Chan’s neck while you bring Jisung closer, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “You’re so cute, Channie.”

Chan mumbles something into your shoulder, too flustered to say anything more than some form of gibberish. He shivers under you and Jisung’s touches, burying his face in your shoulder. You hum, playing with Chan’s hair. “Sungie, you know what I think?” Jisung tilts his head, looking at Chan on your lap.

“No, hyung. Enlighten me.” 

“I think we should give our wonderful leader some much-needed stress relief, what do you think?” You whisper against Chan’s neck, making him shudder. Jisung giggles, petting Chan’s hair.

“Mhm. Hyung’s been working so hard for us, he must be so pent up.” Jisung whispers, twirling Chan’s curls around his finger. You softly kiss Chan’s neck to be met with a wonderful whimper from Chan’s lips.

“Wanna tell me and Sungie what exactly you were talking about in your song, mm?” You whisper, running your hand down Chan’s back. “Something about being under me?” A soft whine escapes Chan’s lips as his hips twitch against yours.

“H-hyung, please–” You snap your arm down to wrap around Chan’s waist tightly, holding him in place.

“Ah, ah,” you scold. “No moving. Tell me what the song is about, pretty.” Chan whimpers and you lean in, your breath ghosting over his neck. “Maybe I can make it happen, Channie.”

Chan whines again, his arms tightening around your shoulders as he clings to you. He turns his head to the side, away from you, eyes fluttering shut as he feels your warm breath on his neck. “I–It’s about you being… above me… holding me, pinning me.” You smile, curling a strand of Chan’s hair around your finger.

“Yeah?” You lessen your grip on Chan’s waist, gently setting your hand on the small of his back. “All I'm doing is pinning you down? Nothing else?” Chan relaxes in your hold but flushes red at your question. He buries his face in your shoulder, trying to form a coherent sentence.

“N-no, it’s… other things, too… other things I want you to do… to me.” He whispers so quietly that you’re certain Jisung couldn’t hear.

“Tell me, baby. Sungie and I won't judge, yeah?” You look over to Jisung, narrowing your eyes as if to say ‘agree, or else.’ Jisung nods quickly, running his fingers through Chan’s hair.

“We won’t judge, hyung. We wanna make you relax, okay?” Jisung plays with Chan’s hair as Chan whines, nuzzling further into your shoulder.

“Exactly. It’s okay, Channie baby, you’re safe here. What do you want me to do to you, sweet boy?” Chan sighs shakily, gripping your shirt tightly.

“I want you to… touch me, take control. I want, I want–” He cuts himself off as you feel his face physically get hotter to the touch. “I can't say it, hyung. You know what I want. Please don’t make me say it…”

You move your arm from around Jisung’s shoulders to cup Chan’s face with both hands, lifting it up gently. You caress his cheeks, looking him in the eye. “Channie, I'm not trying to mess with you or make you any more embarrassed than you already are. I just want you to tell me explicitly what you want, because I don't want to overstep or overwhelm you.” Chan melts, his eyes softening and his lips forming a small pout. “Please tell me, sweet boy.” A breathy whine leaves Chan’s lips as you call him sweet names, falling apart in your hands. He looks up into your eyes, his gaze flickering down to your lap. 

“I want you to fuck me, hyung. Please.”

You smile, gently squeezing Chan’s cheeks together to make him pout. You let go, ignoring Chan’s needy whine as you place your hands securely on his hips. “There you go. Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Chan shakes his head, looking at Jisung, leaning into his hand as Jisung ruffles his hair.

“S-Sungie, help me please, I’m…” You laugh, also looking over at Jisung. He smiles, chuckling as his hands trail down Chan’s back to tease under his shirt, rubbing circles into the small of Chan’s back. Chan shudders, leaning in to press his face to your shoulder. “Jisung–” Chan’s voice cracks as Jisung presses his lips to Chan’s neck, softly trailing kisses down to his shoulder.

“What, baby? You’ve gotta learn to use your words.” Jisung whispers, licking Chan’s jaw. A moan escapes Chan’s lips, his head falling back to give Jisung more room. His thighs squeeze around your waist and you chuckle, trailing a hand down to squeeze his thigh.

“I need you…” Chan whispers, eyes squeezed shut from overstimulation.

“Mm? You want us both, pretty?” You whisper, petting Chan’s thigh. Chan nods, letting out a soft whimper.

“Yes, please, so bad, I can’t– I–” Chan can’t form a coherent thought as you start kissing the other side of Chan’s neck, both you and Jisung covering his neck with your lips. Chan shakes, leaning further into your shoulder to let you and Jisung cover his neck with kisses. “Please– oh, god, hyungs, please…” You chuckle, leaving a long kiss to his neck.

“Hyungs?” Jisung giggles, gently yanking Chan’s hair back. Chan whimpers, letting Jisung pull him back. “Am I your hyung now, Channie?” Chan’s eyes widen, his face burning as he quickly squeezes his eyes shut as he realizes what he let slip.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean– I didn’t–” Chan stutters and you laugh, kissing Chan’s cheek.

“It's okay, baby, it’s cute.” You assure him, petting the small of his back. “Yeah? What do you think, Jisung?” Jisung smiles, nodding as he continues to nip at Chan’s neck.

“Yeah. It's cute. It’s very cute, Channie.” Jisung presses a long kiss to Chan’s jaw. Chan whimpers, digging his fingers into your shirt, holding on for dear life. He desperately bucks his hips against your abdomen, searching for some type of friction.

“Shh, don’t move, baby.” You whisper into Chan’s neck, holding his hips securely. “We’re gonna take our time loving on you.” A breathy whimper escapes Chan as you hold him, stilling his hips.

“Hyungs, p-please, I need…” Chan whines as you press your lips to his shoulder, humming for him to continue. You can feel him growing against your stomach as you smile against his skin, pulling back to tap on Jisung’s thigh.

“Our baby has a little problem, Sungie.” You caress Chan’s hip, looking at Jisung with a small smile. Jisung flushes, pulling away from Chan’s neck to look down.

“Look at you… already so desperate for us, Channie.” Jisung trails off, resting his hand on Chan’s inner thigh. Chan gasps, his legs tightening around you. You chuckle, looking between the two.

“You both have done this before, haven’t you?” Jisung chuckles, closing one eye and pursing his lips together, pretending to think.

“Maybe… once, or twice…” You scoff, squeezing Jisung’s thigh a little too hard. He buckles, his mouth falling open in a groan.

“Don’t lie. Tell me.” You scold as Chan wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest.

“I've lost count,” Chan whispers into your chest. “But it’s not new to us.” Jisung nods, the hand under Chan’s shirt trailing up his back.

“He's always in control, though.” Jisung caresses Chan’s back. “He’s so dominant, usually. It’s… nice, seeing him like this.” You lift your hand to Jisung’s face, holding his chin up.

“Had experience yourself, being dominant?” You ask softly as Jisung blinks, shifting under your touch as he meets your gaze.

“I, um… I’ve tried it, but… not really.” Jisung bites his bottom lip, looking down, his cheeks flushing pink. You run your thumb over Jisung’s chin, looking between him and Chan on your lap.

“What am I gonna do with you two…” You trail off, gently petting Chan’s thigh.

“Hyung, please…” Chan shifts in your lap, whining. You squeeze Chan's hip, moving your hand from Jisung’s chin down to Chan’s other hip.

“Yes, Channie?” You look down at Chan, holding him in place.

Chan huffs, looking up at you with pupils blown wide. “You know what, hyung.” You chuckle, kissing Chan’s forehead.

“Okay, okay. Channie’s needy. We need to take care of that first.” You give in and Chan nods quickly, trying to get even closer to you. He holds your shoulders like a lifeline as he fights against your strong grip to grind down.

“Please, please, it hurts…” Chan whines quietly and you kiss his cheeks softly.

“I'm sorry, I'll stop teasing. Can you stand up for me, sweetheart?” You ask softly, letting your hands fall down to Chan’s thighs. Chan slowly stands, his legs shaking beneath him. He holds your shoulders desperately, looking down at you with pleading eyes. You stand up, taking his hands to hold him up, towering over him once you’re fully standing. You cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb into his skin. “Jisung, go lock the door.”

Jisung scrambles off the couch and nearly trips over his own feet twice to lock the door. Chan blinks up at you, nuzzling into your hand on his cheek. You drop your hands down to Chan’s shoulders, caressing them gently. “Go lay on the couch, however you’re most comfortable,” you softly command him to move.

Chan takes a shaky step towards the couch and sinks down, laying on his back, his head propped against the armrest. He stares up at you with clouded eyes, his cheeks flushed. You smile down at him, slowly parting his legs to place your thigh between them, hovering on top of him. You place your hands on either side of Chan’s head, caging him below you on the couch.

“This is what you wanted, yeah? To be under me?” You coo, running your thumb over Chan’s cheek. He whines, nodding desperately as he wraps his legs around your leg. He rolls his hips up, grinding his aching problem against your thigh.

“Please. Please.” Chan whimpers, clinging onto your shirt tightly. You chuckle, leaning down, kissing Chan’s neck. Chan starts panting, one hand gripping the arm of the couch above him to ground himself, his head thrown back. You trail your hands down Chan’s hard chest, tugging up the hem of Chan’s shirt. “Take it off, please. Please, hyung.” Chan begs and you peck Chan’s jaw, giving him space.

“Up, baby. Help me take it off,” you ask Chan gently, only one hand beside Chan’s head. He nods, sitting up and raising his arms over his head. He watches you with dark eyes as you pull his shirt up and over his chest, tossing it off to the side. Jisung picks up the shirt and gently folds it, setting it on Chan’s desk. Chan blushes deep red, bringing his arms down to attempt to cover his chest. You run a hand down his pale, toned body, intentionally rubbing against his small yet hard nipples. He shivers, his head falling back again with the exhalation of a soft whine. “So pretty, Channie,” you whisper, kissing Chan’s cheek softly. He shoots his hands up, trying to grab at your shirt to pull it off, too. You tsk, taking Chan’s wrists into your hand, pinning them above Chan’s head. “Hands to yourself.”

Chan whines, nodding with a pout as he lets you pin his hands down. He squirms, trying to create friction to relieve himself of the intense pressure. “Please, hyung…” You sigh, looking over at Jisung, unsurprised to find his shirt discarded, as well.

“Is there anything in here to keep Chan’s hands tied, Sung?” Jisung nods eagerly, scrambling over to the desk and opening the drawer, pulling out a long piece of black fabric. You laugh, taking it from Jisung’s hand. “Wow, holy shit. Is this from Red Lights?” You run your thumb over the silky fabric. “It's like you cut off a piece of the huge tethers.” Jisung chuckles, sitting on the opposite arm of the couch.

“Yeah. Seemed like a useful thing to take as a souvenir.” Jisung smiles, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Kinky.” You look back down to Chan, gently wrapping the fabric around Chan’s wrists. You tie them together, testing the knot to make sure it’s secure but not too tight. “Is this okay? Does it hurt?” You whisper, caressing Chan’s wrist. Chan shakes his head, gently trying to pull his hands out to no luck.

“No, no, it’s good, just tight enough…” He tries to pull at it again, his face scrunching up as the fabric digs into his wrists. “Please– touch me– do something, anything…” Chan begs and you melt, kissing his cheek.

“Okay. God, there’s just no room,” You groan, looking back at Jisung. “I want you involved, Sungie, but I don't know how.” Jisung gets up and kneels beside Chan’s face, petting his hair.

“Mm, I could help you out, hyung, or…” Jisung runs his thumb over Chan’s bottom lip, making his hyung whine. “Or I could give him something else to think about.” You smile, looking down at Chan’s blown out eyes.

“Channie, you want Sungie to keep your mouth busy?” You pet Chan’s cheek and he immediately nods, opening his mouth to lick at Jisung’s thumb.

“Please, please.” Chan whimpers breathlessly as you start to trail kisses down Chan’s chest, settling between his legs. You kiss his waistband, gently tugging it lower to kiss Chan’s v-line. Chan moans softly, rolling his hips up towards your face, his eyes fluttering shut as Jisung traces Chan’s lips with his thumb. You lick at Chan’s v-line then freeze, groaning against Chan’s skin.

“Fuck.” You lift your head up, looking Chan in the eye. He whines at the loss of contact and you soothe him by petting his abs. “Is there lube in here?” Chan nods, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Yeah, yeah, there’s some in… the bottom drawer, I think.” He softly answers, his wrists struggling against the fabric. You lean back down, kissing Chan’s stomach.

“Sungie?” You whisper, caressing Chan’s hips as you kiss all over his skin. Jisung pulls away from Chan’s face to look through the drawer, pulling out a small bottle of lube.

“Got it, now what?” Jisung hands you the bottle and kneels back down next to Chan. You take the bottle and place it next to you on the couch, kissing Chan’s abs again.

“Do whatever you want with Chan. I've got to prep him.” Jisung smiles, nodding as he kisses Chan’s cheek.

“Hyung–” Chan whimpers. Jisung chuckles, running his fingers through Chan’s curls, pulling them back to expose Chan’s neck. 

Jisung kisses and nips at his neck, mumbling against Chan’s skin. “Don’t worry, baby, I'm here now.” Jisung nibbles Chan’s jawline, trailing up to kiss his soft lips. You smile, watching them, as you gently pull Chan’s shorts down. Chan, entranced in the kiss, still manages to lift his hips a little to let you slip off his shorts. You coo, kissing the waistband of Chan’s boxers.

“Good boys.” You gently rub Chan’s length through his boxers, kissing around his belly button. Chan rolls his hips up again, a breathy moan escaping his lips as he pulls against the fabric, whimpering.

“Hyung, please…” He whines helplessly, trying his hardest to break free.

“Yes, baby?” You kiss the tip of Chan’s cock through the fabric, smiling against it as you feel him twitch under you. Chan shudders, his breathing quickening, as he pulls against the fabric tying his hands together hard enough to bruise. Jisung stops him, holding his hands together, rubbing his thumbs over Chan’s red wrists.

“Y/Nie hyung, please, stop teasing, I need you, need it, please–” You concede, pulling down Chan’s boxers, softly wrapping your hand around his aching cock as he gasps.

“You’re right, I'm sorry, you’ve been so good for us. I won't tease anymore.” You apologize, stroking the base slowly as you pepper kisses to the tip. Chan keens, pressing his head back into the couch with all his strength.

“Thank you, oh god, thank you, feels so good, thank you–” Chan whimpers, babbling as he leaks precum against your lips. You hum, licking the release as you kiss down his length, spreading Chan’s legs a little wider. Chan whimpers, watching you with a heavy gaze as he tries to hold back his whines. Jisung kisses down Chan’s jaw, pulling back his hair to bury his face in Chan’s neck. He stops at Chan’s collarbone, sucking softly then biting down. Chan gasps, head shooting up. “Sungie, no marks, please,” Chan panics, stumbling over his words. Jisung sighs, licking Chan’s collarbone instead of sucking and biting.

You smile, watching the two as you gently stroke Chan’s length, trailing kisses down his taint. He tries his best to hold back his whines, failing miserably. You chuckle, taking your hands away from Chan’s cock to pour a little lube onto your fingers. Pressing your clean hand against Chan’s thigh to hold him down, you gently tease Chan’s entrance with a lubed finger, tracing circles around the rim. Chan shivers, lifting his hips in a wordless plea for you to hurry. He bites his lip as Jisung licks over his nipple and you press your fingertip inside him, a needy shudder running down his spine. You kiss the side of Chan’s length, licking down to the base as you press your finger all the way in.

Chan gasps, his dick twitching under your tongue. “Hyung, fuck– oh my god.” He whimpers, looking at Jisung with teary eyes. “Sungie…” Jisung lifts his head from Chan’s chest and brings him in for a kiss, swallowing Chan’s needy whimpers as you curl and pump your finger into Chan’s hole. Once Chan’s whimpers die down a bit, you slick up a second finger and push it in slowly, to let him adjust. Chan moans, breaking his kiss with Jisung to focus on breathing, his fists clenching together. “Please– more–”

You curl your fingers up, kissing along Chan’s thigh as Jisung swallows Chan’s whimpers while you hit his prostate. He clenches his thighs around your hand as your fingers speed up. “Please, please, I'm sorry, I need more, please…” Chan whimpers and whines as Jisung pulls away. Jisung looks down at you between Chan’s thighs as you kiss his thighs. Jisung wraps his hand around Chan’s dick, gently rubbing the tip.

“Hyung,” Jisung nudges you and you lift your head from Chan’s thigh to meet his gaze. “Can I suck him off?” His words instantly go to your dick, imagining him with Chan’s cock down his throat. It takes a couple seconds for you to come back to reality, quickly nodding.

“Yeah. please. I'm almost done, but it’s gonna hurt a little. Please distract him.” Jisung immediately drops next to Chan’s hips, stroking his drooling cock and licking the tip. Chan whimpers loud enough to surprise even himself, grimacing as he shuts his mouth tight. You chuckle, kissing Chan’s inner thigh. “It's okay, baby, let it out. It's late and the walls are thick. Don’t worry.” Chan nods, closing his eyes, throwing his head back. It’s too much, he decides, to see what Jisung and you are doing to him. He's better off with his eyes shut.

Jisung starts to bob his head, taking a little more of Chan’s length with every stroke of his head. Chan has to hold back a scream with how good he feels. He’d been sucked off, sure, but never had fingers inside him at the same time. Taking advantage of the pleasure Jisung’s giving Chan, you slowly push a third lubed finger into Chan, cooing as he grimaces. Chan lets out a loud moan and involuntarily bucks his hips up, accidentally shoving his cock further down Jisung’s throat without warning. Jisung gags, pulling off to catch his breath.

“S-Sorry, hyung, ‘m sorry–” Chan rambles, trying to sit up to look at Jisung apologetically. Jisung shakes his head, diving back in instead of responding. He swallows around Chan’s cock, closing his eyes and humming at the sweet taste. You smile, a familiar feeling pooling in your lower stomach as you press your lips to Chan’s thigh. Curling your three fingers up to hit Chan’s sweet spot again, you spread them out to stretch Chan open. He pulls hard at the fabric binding his wrists together, breathy whine after whine escaping his lips. Chan chokes back a sob as Jisung swallows around him and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Hyung– hyungs, please, let me go, let me touch,” Chan babbles as you pick your head up, stilling your fingers to let him speak. “I've been so good,” Chan hiccups. “Please let me touch, please, Y/Nie hyung, please…”

Having a massive soft spot for Chan, you give in immediately. You kiss a part of Chan’s length that’s not deep in Jisung’s throat and push your fingers in a little deeper, reaching up with your free hand to untie the fabric around Chan’s wrists. “There you go, I'm sorry, sweetheart. You’ve done so well.” You discard the fabric, gently rubbing the bright red marks on Chan’s wrists. Chan shakes his hands, rotating his wrists to get rid of the soreness.

“Thank you, hyung…” Chan trails off, eyes flitting between you and Jisung, who’s now looking up at Chan, licking the tip of Chan’s dick softly. Chan bites his bottom lip, reaching down to pet Jisung’s hair. “Off, wanna– need you. Wanna touch you. Been good, please.” He mumbles, trying to pull Jisung up. You pet Chan’s hair, slightly damp from his sweat.

“Baby, let us take care of you, okay? I haven't been prepping you for nothing.” Chan nods, sighing at your hand in his hair.

“Y-Yes, sir, okay. Please take care of me,” he whispers, sighing as your hand trails down his face to caress his cheek. Jisung takes Chan back into his mouth, swallowing loudly as he takes Chan fully down his throat. Chan yelps, unconsciously bucking his hips up further, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sungie–! Fuck–” He pants, his body going limp under Jisung’s mouth. You chuckle, patting Jisung’s head and gently lifting him up.

“Enough, Jisung. Give the poor boy a break.” You scold and Jisung pulls off Chan reluctantly, but not before giving the tip a small lick. He wipes the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at you with a grin. Chan whimpers at the sudden loss of Jisung’s warmth around him. He lifts his head off the back of the couch, eyes flitting between you and Jisung.

“H–Hyungs…” he trails off, his brain fried. You pet Chan’s hair, moving the strands out from in front of his eyes.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, gentle and soft. “We'll give you what you want. How do you want me, sweetheart?” Chan stares up at you with wide eyes, chewing his bottom lip.

“I– I don't care– doggy? Missionary? Please… I just want you.” Chan whines, leaning forward into your hand. You hum, ruffling Chan’s hair softly.

“You decide, sweet boy. I'll do whatever you want. Do you want to see me or Sungie when I’m fucking you?” Chan looks down at his lap, chewing his lip again. He looks back up between you and Jisung.

“I wanna… I wanna see you, Y/Nie hyung… but…” Chan pouts. “I wanna hear Sungie. Is that… okay?” You smile, leaning down and kissing his nose. He giggles, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sungie's not going anywhere. You’ll hear him just fine.” Chan nods, wrapping his arms around your neck to pull you down for a kiss. He hums softly into your mouth as you kiss him deeper, cupping his cheek and licking into his mouth. Chan whines, his hands moving to your shoulders to hold you close to him. You get on top of him again, your knees on both sides of his thighs. You cup Chan’s chin to tilt it up, kissing him deeper, hungrier, sloppier. He moans softly, allowing you to devour him. Chan’s hips buck up, grinding against your bulge. He pulls back with a gasp, breathing heavily. You smile, letting him take a breather, gently kissing his forehead. “Your lips are addicting, Channie.”

Chan giggles, his ears flushed red, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Thank you, hyung,” he whispers, his voice quiet. You hum, sitting back and unbuttoning your jeans. Chan’s eyes go wide, stuttering nonsense as he watches you slowly unzip your pants. You chuckle, looking back over to Jisung, who’s painfully hard in his pants.

“Sungie, wanna use Channie’s mouth while I fuck him?” You can see Jisung’s cock twitch in his pants and he almost trips over his feet to climb onto the couch next to Chan.

“Please, please–” Jisung cups Chan’s cheek, turning Chan’s face to make eye contact. “Baby, can you handle it?” He asks softly, petting Chan’s cheek. Chan nods vehemently, leaning closer to Jisung, trying to kiss him.

“Yes, please, hyung, wanna taste you–” Jisung leans in to kiss Chan, both boys whimpering as their lips meet. While they’re preoccupied, you slip off of Chan, standing up in front of the couch. You pull your pants down and off fully, chuckling as you watch Chan and Jisung break the kiss to look up at you with wide eyes, darting down to the tent in your boxers. “What the fuck,” Chan whispers, biting his lip, scooting back on the couch. “Hyung, you’re–”

“Holy shit.” Jisung cuts him off, blinking rapidly. “I think you’re bigger than all of us.” You chuckle, pushing your boxers down to free your length. Both of their jaws drop and you laugh with your full chest, throwing your underwear aside.

“Come on. I'm not that big, am I?” You softly pump yourself, narrowing your eyes at Jisung. “Wait, who’s this ‘all of us’ you’re talking about? You mean out of all the kids?”

Chan swallows thickly, licking his lips. “Yeah,” he whispers. “A lot bigger– like, a lot–” Chan mumbles nonsense, fear slowly spreading across his face. You start to get a little worried, placing a comforting hand on Chan’s thigh.

“Am I too big?” You whisper, caressing his skin. “Do you not want to do this, baby?” Chan sits up, snapping out of his daze.

“No! No, no, sorry. I just– got… distracted,” his ears flush red as he giggles. “I'm okay, I want this, please, hyung.” You chuckle, squeezing his thigh.

“Alright. I'll go slow, yeah?” You trail your hand down his thigh, slowly pushing it to his chest, met with an appreciative whine from Chan’s lips. “Sungie, don’t use his mouth until he’s fully adjusted, got it?”

Jisung nods, kneeling down next to the couch. He kisses Chan’s cheek, soothing his hair. “Yes, sir. I'll wait.”

Chan takes a deep breath as you press both of his thighs to his chest, the sharp intake of air making his body shake. “I'll– I'll tap Jisung if he needs to stop. He can use my mouth now.” You shake your head, running your hands down his thighs to softly squeeze his ass.

“No. You need to be able to talk to me as I push inside. When you’re ready, Jisung will start. Okay?” Chan whines, but agrees. He reaches out for your hand and you take it, squeezing softly. “You ready, sweetheart?” You take your other hand to slick your cock with lube.

Chan chews his bottom lip, holding onto your hand tightly. “I'm… I’m ready,” He locks eyes with you, his heart hammering in his chest hard enough for you to feel his pulse through his hand. You push his hand up above his head, pinning it down as you use your other hand to guide your tip to Chan’s entrance.

You push in as slowly as you can muster, but as soon as you breach the rim, a warm bliss spreads throughout your entire body. He's so warm, so tight, so perfect around you. You squeeze your eyes shut to ground yourself– not even a full inch inside.

Chan is beside himself. His head is thrown back against the couch, his grip on your hand bruising. He’s whimpering pathetically, his own eyes squeezed shut tight. “Hyungggg,” he whines. “Please. More. Need more.” Jisung coos, soothing Chan’s hair.

“Be patient, Channie,” Jisung whispers, kissing Chan’s forehead. “Y/Nie hyung is going slow, remember?” Chan just whines in response, writhing around.

“Noooooo,” Chan is pathetic. “Hyung, all the way, now, please, I need–”

You push in a full two inches and Chan stops breathing. You’re still inside of him, gently caressing his hand. “You okay? It’s what you wanted, no?” You tease and Chan shudders, breathing again.

“Yes, h-hyung, it’s what I wanted, thank you, thank y–” Jisung shuts him up with his lips on Chan’s, turning his head to deepen the kiss. You let go of Chan’s hand to pinch Jisung’s ear and he pulls back, groaning.

“What was that for?” Jisung whines, rubbing his ear. You narrow your eyes at him, going back to holding Chan’s hand above his head.

“Let him breathe and speak. I'm not done, Sungie.” You scold. Jisung looks like a kicked puppy, the way he sits back on the ground next to the couch.

“Sorry, sir,” he whispers, chewing the inside of his cheek. You chuckle, turning back to Chan.

“You okay? Ready for more?” Chan whimpers, his bottom lip jutting out.

“There's more?” His voice sounds small, looking down as if he could see your cock through his own thighs against his chest. You chuckle, leaning down to kiss his nose.

“There’s quite a bit more,” you lift back up, looking down to see over half your length still unsheathed. “You sure you want this?”

“Yes!” He responds instantly, then giggles at his desperation. “Yes, hyung. please.”

You groan, your free hand pressing down on his stomach to hold yourself up as Chan tightens around you. “Loose– loosen up, sweetheart,” you breathe out, unable to push in any further or even pull out. “Please.”

Chan takes a deep breath and, squeezing your hand, he slowly relaxes. You feel his muscles ease around you. Chan trembles, whimpering softly as Jisung kneels next to the couch, petting Chan’s head. “There you go, Channie, just relax. You’re okay.”

You pull Chan’s hand up to kiss it, then place it back down softly to push in another inch. “Good boy,” you praise, met with the softest whimper from Chan’s lips. “You’re doing so well. Not used to bottoming, hm?” You whisper, stilling inside of him. Chan nods in response, whining high in his throat.

Chan lets out a soft sob, closing his eyes tightly as tears run down his cheeks. “H-hurts…” he whispers, trying (yet failing) to hold back his tears, squeezing your hand tightly. You coo as Jisung kisses away his tears, petting his cheek.

You pull out slightly, just to push in slightly deeper than before. Chan moans loudly at the absence of you, then his breath hitches when you press in again. “It's okay, it’s okay,” you soothe him, rubbing patterns into his hand. He bites his lip to hold back another sob.

“Y-You-You’re so big, I– oh my g-god…” he gasps, tears dripping down his face. Jisung wipes them away, kissing his forehead.

“Color, hyung?” Jisung whispers, checking in. Chan hiccups, sniffing softly.

“Green,” Chan replies after a couple seconds of slowing his breathing. “It's just a lot. I've only ever bottomed for Minho.” Jisung giggles, kissing Chan’s cheek.

“Then you’ve barely bottomed,” Jisung whispers underneath his breath, as if Minho could hear. Chan laughs, then winces as he’s reminded of the mass inside of him. “Sorry, sorry,” Jisung apologizes, wiping a stray tear that escaped Chan’s closed eyes.

You almost burst on the spot watching the two of them. You knew all the kids fooled around, it was beyond obvious, but seeing and hearing confirmation warms your heart. You know for certain now that they’re all there for one another, in more ways than you knew for sure. And now you’re a part of that– and you hope this isn’t a one-time thing.

You come back to reality as the two of them look up at you, silently giving you permission to continue. You push into the backs of Chan’s thighs, forcing them flush against Chan’s chest as you lift his hips to push in deeper. Chan wails, a broken sob escaping his lips. The sound instantly dies to the soundproofed walls, but it doesn’t make Chan any less mortified. He curls up into himself, pulling your hand as he covers his face with his arm in embarrassment.

Chuckling, you pull his hand back to the arm of the couch above his head, caressing his chin with your other hand. “Don’t hold back your noises, baby boy.” He sniffs, nodding as he lets more whines out. You trail your free hand down his chest, pressing down on his stomach. “I know it feels good, sweetheart. Keep making those pretty sounds for us.” Chan keens, his ears burning blood red.

“H-hyung, god…” he looks up at you only to squeeze his eyes shut again, failing to hold back the tears streaming down his face. He grasps your hand as tightly as he can muster as you push in deeper. He whimpers pathetically, breathing through his nose as he holds back sobs.

You stop moving, overwhelmed by his sweet sounds. “God,” you lean down and press your forehead to Chan’s sternum. “You sound so good.” It takes every ounce in your body to not cum right in that moment as Chan sobs, his chest heaving under your head. “Give me a second, baby.” Chan squeezes your hand in response, trembling under you. He takes shaky breaths under you, whining and moaning as his brain melts. Your name is the only word he can seem to remember, repeating it softly.

“Y/N, hyung, Y/Nie, hyung, Y/Nie hyung–” Chan hiccups as you lift your head, kissing his lips softly. You keep your lips on his as you push the rest of the way inside, swallowing his sobs and whimpers. He kisses you like his life depends on it, like if he stops you’ll disappear, this will all be over. He has the softest lips you’ve ever felt– it feels like making out with a pillow.

You’ve stilled inside of him, letting him adjust to your full length. After another moment of needy, desperate kisses, Chan tries to roll his hips up for more but his hips tremble too hard for him to move properly. You still feel the movement, though, and you pull up to let Chan speak. He lets out a strained whine, chasing your lips.

“Please–” he whispers, staring at your lips. “Move, please. And more– more kisses. please.” You press your lips to his again, pulling out a couple inches just to push back in. Chan gasps as you hit as deeply as you can reach, allowing you to lick into his mouth. He pants, letting you do whatever you want to him.

Ignoring his protests, you sit up to get a better angle to move inside him. Chan pouts, his mouth opening and closing, feeling empty. You chuckle, stilling your hips. “Sungie.” Jisung perks up as you say his name, sitting forward on his knees. “I think Chan’s okay. You wanna have your fun now?”

Jisung almost falls onto Chan with how quickly he stands up. “You ready, Channie?” Jisung whispers, tilting Chan’s head to face him. Chan nods, staring up at him. “If it's too much, just squeeze my hand twice, okay?” He takes Chan’s other hand– now holding both you and Jisung’s hands.

“Please. I’m ready,” Chan begs, wetting his lips with his tongue and opening his mouth wide. Jisung laughs, ruffling Chan’s hair with his free hand. 

“Desperate much? I don’t even have my pants off yet,” Jisung undoes his jeans with one hand, rubbing patterns into Chan’s hand with the other. He gets them off quick– you can tell this isn’t the first time he’s had to undress with a hand busy.

As soon as Jisung slips his long dick into Chan’s mouth, you start moving again. “Channie, squeeze my hand twice too if you need me to stop, okay?” Chan whines in response, his mouth full, but he squeezes your hand once to let you know he heard you. You chuckle, pressing down on his stomach as you start a steady rhythm. “Good boy, you’re doing so well for us,” you whisper as you lean down, burying your face in Chan’s neck as he takes Jisung’s cock down his throat on his other side.

You lick a stripe up to Chan’s ear, peppering kisses to his jaw. “What a perfect boy,” you praise, nibbling on his earlobe. “You like being used, don’t you?” Chan moans so loudly Jisung buckles, almost falling on top of you both.

“Fuck. Hyung, please,” Jisung whines. “Don’t make him moan. I'm gonna cum too quick.” You laugh, pressing your lips to Chan’s jaw.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “So good, Channie,” whispering into his neck, you trail your hand down to wrap around Chan’s aching cock. Chan chokes on Jisung’s cock, squeezing his hand twice and gasping for air as Jisung immediately pulls out.

“Y/Nie hyung, wait, wait–” he whimpers and you instantly stop all your movements, your hand stilling on his cock and your length half outside his warmth.

“What's wrong?” You coo, sitting up to watch Chan’s face as Jisung kneels down to pet Chan’s hair.

Chan’s voice falters, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. “Sorry, sorry, just– so close. Don't wanna cum yet. But don’t stop, just– don’t touch.” You nod, moving your hand from his cock to his stomach, stroking softly.

“Okay, puppy.”

Chan lets out the most pathetic sound of the night as you feel a sudden warmth on your hand. You look down to see his cock leaking cum, dripping down the side of your hand into his belly button. Jisung holds back a laugh, turning around so Chan can’t see him fighting his demons. You can’t fight the smile that spreads on your face, looking up to find a deflated Chan staring back at you with tears in his eyes.

“Channie,” you hum and he whines, shutting his eyes.

“Don’t,” he whispers, facing away from you.

“Chan,” you let go of Chan’s hand and force him to face you, running your thumb down his jaw.

“Please don’t,” his voice shakes as he opens his eyes slowly, a tear streaming down his cheek.

“Bang Chan.” He nearly screams, hitting your chest with the hand you let go of.

“Don’t call me that right now!” He cries out, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. You lift your hand, coated in his cum, and slowly lick it off as Chan watches you. You don’t even have to look down to know his cock is getting hard again.

“Channie,” you whisper, licking the last drop of his cum off your hand. Chan is too distracted to pipe up this time. “Did you just cum untouched from me calling you ‘puppy’?” He whines, covering his face with his hand.

“I wanna die. Actually, just kill me. Please.” You chuckle, kissing his nose, then kissing his lips softly. “Hyung–”

“Shh,” you whisper, kissing Chan to shut him up. He doesn’t complain. He kisses back hesitantly at first, tongue darting out to taste his own cum. You open your mouth to let him in, and he devours you in return.

A couple minutes of hungry making out pass and Jisung starts protesting. “Y/N,” Jisung whines. you sigh into Chan’s lips and pull away after licking Chan’s bottom lip.

“That's ‘hyung’ to you, Sungie,” you correct, kissing Chan’s cheek.

“Sorry, sorry– Y/Nie hyung.” Jisung fumbles, correcting himself. “Please. I’m so hard, I need to cum.” You groan, reminded of your own neglected length.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too,” you sit up, away from Chan’s neck, as he pouts up at you. “Sorry, pup. Can we go again?” Chan keens at the pet name, his face lighting up.

“Please. Please, yes, I wanna, wanna feel hyung again.” Jisung clears his throat obnoxiously and Chan giggles. “Sorry. Wanna feel hyungs again,” he corrects. “Please.”

“Good boy,” you praise, pressing into Chan again. He closes his eyes, letting out contented breaths as you press all the way in. Once you’re in fully, he gazes up at Jisung, letting his mouth fall open in anticipation. Jisung pushes in, gently rocking back and forth as you match the same pace.

“‘M not– not gonna last long,” Jisung whispers, petting Chan’s hair as he slowly fucks his throat. Chan hums around him, letting his eyes fall shut as he enjoys being used. You lean back down and bite his neck to ground yourself, moving your hips quicker and snapping into Chan’s. Chan lets out a punched whimper at every thrust, driving Jisung closer and closer. “Fuck,” Jisung groans, pulling out of Chan’s mouth. Chan whines, chasing Jisung’s cock with his mouth, only for Jisung to slap the tip back onto his tongue. He jerks off into Chan’s mouth, cumming with a low whine, painting Chan’s tongue white. As soon as he finishes, he bends down to meet Chan’s lips in a sloppy kiss, Jisung’s cum spreading between their mouths.

You pepper kisses into Chan’s neck as you speed up, stroking his aching cock as you groan. “Channie, where do you want me to cum?” Chan breaks the kiss with Jisung, panting.

“Inside. Please fill me up,” he begs, turning his head to face you. You kiss him immediately, thrusting one, two– three times, cumming deep inside him. Chan whimpers, exploding in your hand as soon as he feels you filling him up. You chuckle into the kiss, lifting your hand to lick it clean once again. Chan’s pupils are blown wide watching you, sticking out his tongue to lick your fingers. You let him lick off the remaining cum, humming as he closes his eyes when you kiss him again.

Chan grimaces after a couple seconds of kisses and you pull away, scanning his face. “Are you okay?” You whisper, rubbing his cheek.

“My legs are gonna go numb,” he whines, giggling a little. You sit up instantly, letting his legs stretch out after what felt like forever. He sighs in contempt, closing his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“I’m so sorry. I had you bent in half for too long.” Chan giggles, waving you off. “Sungie, are there any towels?” You ask softly, too scared to pull out of Chan yet. “Or tissues, at least?” Jisung stands to his feet after pressing a soft kiss to Chan’s cheek.

“Yeah, lemme go grab one,” he disappears behind you for a moment, Chan watching him walk away. He tries to sit up and winces, his hand shooting to his stomach.

“Fuck. That’s gonna be sore,” he giggles up at you. You lean down to kiss his stomach, caressing both sides of his hips.

“Sorry, pretty boy.” Chan just smiles in response.

“It’s okay. I asked for it, didn’t I?” He chews his bottom lip. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” 

Jisung returns with a towel and you clean Chan’s stomach up, carefully wiping Chan’s soft dick before wiping your own.

“God,” you groan after they’ve both cleaned up and eased back into their clothes. “I haven’t done that in so long.” Jisung lifts his head to look at you as he slips on his second sock.

“Done what? Topped? Or fucked your boss?” You laughed, massaging your temple.

“Please don’t say that. I’m reeling enough after everything.” Chan nuzzles into your shoulder, wrapping his arm around yours. “It’s okay. Nobody will know. Unless you want them to,” Chan looks up at you, chewing his bottom lip. “The others… like you, too. We all like you,” he confesses.

You ruffle his hair, kissing his forehead. “I know, pup.” Chan melts into your shoulder at the endearment. “But I’m not sure I’d want to. Y’know. I think…” You trail off, eyes flitting between Chan and Jisung.

Panic seeps in. You just fucked your boss. Bosses, rather. You’d be dead if anyone found out. Sure, the other kids would be fine with it. But for that to leak to anyone else? You could never show your face again. You overstepped. Massively.

Chan can feel you stiffen up, and he lifts his head to study your expression. Before he can say anything, you stand up, running your hand through your hair. “I… I should go.” Chan shoots forward, tugging on your wrist to not let you move any further away.

“No. Sit down.” Chan’s back to normal. Gone is the submissive man you had wrapped around your finger just minutes prior. You know that tone, you know better. So you sit down.

“This was a mistake,” you start as soon as you sit back down. “I got so caught up in the moment, I shouldn’t have– really. This is bad.”

“Stop. Just stop, okay?” Chan squeezes your wrist tightly, sitting closer. “If we didn’t want this, we would’ve said something. If we didn’t enjoy it, we would’ve stopped. We wouldn’t have done it. Do you really think so low of us?” Your eyes widen, shaking your head rapidly.

“No, no, I know you would’ve, but–” You stare down at the ground, thinking, trying to speak, but nothing comes out. “I’m your manager. I overstepped.”

Chan places his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. “Hyung. Y/Nie. It’s okay, I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t overstep. You didn’t do anything we didn’t want.” His thumb runs across your cheek in gentle circles. “Sungie and I both wanted this, hoped for this, prayed for this. We enjoyed it more than you can even imagine.”

You laugh, shaking your head in bewilderment. “Prayed? You two wanted to have sex with me that badly?”

“I can’t speak for Chan, but…” Jisung pipes up. “I know the day you became our main manager, I jerked off for an hour to the scent of your cologne still on my hand.” You roll your eyes.

“Freak. Okay, whatever.” Jisung giggles, raising his hands up in defeat. Chan chuckles, dropping his hand back down to hold your hand.

“I’ve been thinking about it for years,” Chan confesses, rubbing patterns into the palm of your hand, unable to meet your eyes. “You have no idea how many times I’ve had to stop myself from getting on my knees and begging for it while you lectured me.” You scoff, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Okay. Got it. Is it just you two who’re crazy for my dick, or do I have to look out for the other kids drooling over me, too?” Jisung and Chan exchange an unreadable glance, then refuse to respond to your question. “... Okay. Understood.”

Chan rubs your knee, tonguing the inside of his cheek. “Please, don’t panic, okay? This was just one fun night. It can just be a one time thing.” You think Chan can feel the disappointment through your skin, because he immediately backtracks. “Or not. We can do this again. Whenever you want. Whatever you want.”

“I’d like that. For this to not just be a one time thing. Please.” Chan leans forward and kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin. 

“Thank god.” He straddles your thigh, hugging you tight. “You scared me for a moment.” You chuckle, running your hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” you reach out for Jisung to come closer, and he takes a seat on your other thigh. “I trust you guys. Anytime you want me, just let me know. I’ll be there.” They both nuzzle into your neck, wrapping their arms around you.

“I love you,” Chan whispers, kissing your neck.

Before you can respond, the door unlocks and swings open.

“Sorry, forgot my–” Changbin stops in his tracks, staring at the scene before him. He takes in everyone’s messy hair, the towels scattered across the floor, your mortified face as you meet his eyes. He processes slowly, then a smirk slowly appears on his face when Chan and Jisung finally look towards him.

“Bin, I–” Chan starts, his voice small. Changbin clicks his tongue, Chan instantly falling silent. Jisung curls up into himself on your lap in preparation for a lecture. Changbin steps back to lock the door, then turns back to the three of you.

“Got room for one more?”

[trippiexlove]

Snooze

Author Note: I am just offloading all my one shots I have in the drafts lol. This is a part two to my CARE one shots, with Josh and Solana. Read the first part linked here. Based off the song Snooze by SZA <3

Warning: None, just Fluff

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black OC

Word Count: 3,162

Face claim - SZA

I can't lose when I'm with you... I can't just snooze and miss the moment... You just too important... Nobody do body like you do..you do...

The vocal booth felt suffocating. Solana ripped off her headphones, the unfinished track echoing in the sudden silence. A frustrated groan escaped her lips as she rubbed her temples, the elusive melody still stubbornly out of reach. Ken paused the recording, his brow furrowed with concern. "Lana, what's up? You've been...off all morning."

Solana looked up, her eyes heavy. She couldn't hide it anymore. "It's...Josh." The name hung in the air, weighted with unspoken tension. They'd clashed two nights ago, a messy tangle of missed calls, misinterpreted texts, and the aching loneliness of forced distance. A stupid fight, really, born from the very thing they both hated: being apart.

Now, a wall of silence stood between them. He'd resorted to calling their kids' iPads just to hear their voices, a hollow substitute for a real conversation. She knew the demands of their careers, the constant travel, the unavoidable separations. But knowing it didn't make the emptiness any less real, or the stubborn refusal to pick up the phone any easier to bear. The frustration with the song was just a symptom, a manifestation of the deeper ache in her heart.

Solana was just missing her man. 

Wanting to just be up under him. It didn't make it better that she was going on tour soon. With it being Wrestlemania season, that means Josh would be spending more time on the road than at home. 

"Yeah I'm good Ken" she gave him a slight smile. Hoping that it was enough for him.

He slowly nodded, leaning forward on the sound board. "Alright then, sing that note like need to girl" making Solana laugh a bit. 

She nodded putting the headphones back on. She closed her eyes, letting the soft beat consume her. She started belting out the lyrics to the song. Before she knew it she sung through the whole song. No breaks. 

"Now that's what I'm talkin' bout" Solana eyes popped open at the deep raspy voice. A tiny gasp coming from her. Shocked to see her husband-- who wasn't supposed to be home til next week-- standing before her. Ken no longer in the studio. Josh tilted his head as he stared right back at her. "You just gon' stare or come out that booth?."

Solana reacted instantly. The music cut off abruptly as she ripped the headphones from her ears, the cushioned cups clattering against the far wall. She bolted from the sound booth, a whirlwind of pent-up energy, and launched herself into Josh's waiting arms. He caught her easily, his strong arms wrapping around her as she clung to him, her legs instinctively locking around his waist.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief. She leaned back slightly, her gaze searching his, though her legs remained securely wrapped around him. "You're not supposed to be home for another week."

"I know," he nodded, his eyes warm and reassuring. "But I didn't like how our conversation went the other day, and I needed to talk to you face-to-face."

Solana slid down, her feet touching the ground, but she remained nestled within the circle of his arms. "Yeah, I didn't like it either." She guided him towards the plush, worn couch in the corner of the studio, and they sank into its soft cushions. Solana instinctively draped her legs across his lap, a familiar gesture of comfort. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice laced with sincerity. "I shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me. I should have just talked to you calmly about how I was feeling."

Josh nodded, his hand gently stroking her leg. "You have to tell me how you're feeling baby" His voice sincere. 

Solana rested her head on her hand, propped up on the back of the couch, her gaze drifting towards the ceiling. "I guess," she paused, searching for the right words, "it might seem silly, but honestly, we've been apart for weeks, and I just...missed you so much."

"I've been missin' you too, ma," he said, his voice soft and husky. "We've both been crazy busy lately, but I promise, there's never a second I don't think bout you, bout y'all."

"I know that, babe," she replied, her eyes dropping to her hands, where she nervously twirled the delicate wedding band on her finger. "It's just...the distance gets hard sometimes."

Josh used his index finger to lift her gaze to his. "It's hard for me too. If I could lay up under you all day you know I would" Solana let out a soft laugh as he gazed into her eyes. "That's why I'm here, to steal you away"

Solana lifted her eyebrow in confusion "What you mean?"

"I mean we got a private to catch in a few hours so you need to go pack" Josh could see that she was about to protest and quickly cut her off "I ain't takin' no for an answer, so you might as well cut that out"

She playfully rolled her eyes as they both stood up. "How you gon' tell me to just pack up and leave on short notice?"

"Cause I run shit round here" he laid a playful smack to her backside, earning him a glare from Solana. She grabbed all her things before they made the trip back home. Josh had already dropped the kids off with her mom. 

Solana was on the floor of her closet, confused on what to pack. Josh walked in with his bag in his hand. "You didn't even tell me where we're going so I know what to bring"

"Just bring your bathing suits," he leaned against the doorframe of the closet. "actually just bring nothing at all"

Solana playfully smacked her teeth as Josh laughed, dodging the shirt she threw his way. She quickly finished packing, bringing her bag-- along with her purse-- downstairs. They loaded up in the car making the hour drive to the airport, going through the private entrance to get to the plane. 

Once settled on the plane, Solana looked out the window, sipping the champagne the flight attended served her moments ago. When they were up in the air she quickly cuddled up next to Josh.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" 

"Nope you just gon' have to wait til we land in a couple hours" Solana rolled her eyes jokingly, but hissed when Josh landed a smack to her ass. "Don't be rollin' yo' eyes girl"

She hit his chest lightly before placing her head back on his shoulder. They stayed that way for the rest of the flight before hearing the pilot announce that they will be landing soon. 

Solana bat her eyes as she began waking up. The morning sun blinding her momentarily as her vision tried to adjust. 

She felt the weight of Josh's arms wrapped around her bare waist, turning around to face him. Cuddling more into him, she sighed in contentment. Josh's gripped around her tightened as he began to wake up too. 

"Good Morning" Solana leaned her head up, pecking his lips. 

"Good Morning Ma," Josh rasped out, "how long you been up?"

"Only for a moment," she closed her eyes laying her head on his chest. 

Josh could feel her breathing begin to even out. "Don't go back to sleep, we got plans today"

Solana groaned lowly "I don't want to do anything today but lay here with you" making Josh laughed lowly. 

"Trust me I want to lay here with yo' ass too," he placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "But we got plans so we got to get up" 

Josh unwrapped his arms from her waist getting out of bed. The sudden coldness made Solana pull the covers up over her shoulders. When Josh walked around to her side, he pulled on the cover landing a smack to her exposed cheeks. "Get that ass up"

Solana groan as she turned over, laying there for a few moments before getting up. Slowly walking due to the dull ache between her legs. As she passed Josh she heard him laugh lowly. That abruptly stopped when she sent a glare his way. 

Solana scrutinized her reflection, ensuring her makeup was flawless, her wavy hair a soft, tousled frame. Josh was whisking her away, a continuation of their indulgent Fiji escape. He'd been relentlessly spoiling her, and she wasn't about to complain.

As she applied the final touch of gloss, Josh filled the doorway, his broad frame silhouetted against the soft light. "Ready, baby?" his voice, a low, resonant rumble, vibrated through her.

"Ready," she murmured, her gaze tracing the lines of his handsome silhouette. He crossed the room, his presence filling the space, and trapped her against the counter, his hands bracketing her.

His eyes, dark and intense, met hers in the mirror, igniting a blush. "You look beautiful," he breathed, his warm breath ghosting over her ear.

She turned, her smile radiant. "Thank you, handsome." A quick, playful kiss turned into a deeper embrace as his hands slid down her back, tightening at her waist, pulling her flush against him. She broke the kiss, breathless.

"We have plans," she teased, a playful lilt in her voice.

He groaned softly, releasing her. "Lucky we do." He took her hand, leading her from the suite into the balmy Fijian air.

Their day unfolded like a dream: snorkeling in turquoise waters, island hopping under the vibrant sun, culminating in a secluded beach dinner.

Solana gasped, the sight of the candlelit setup taking her breath away. The gentle lapping of waves created an intimate symphony. "You planned all this?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Josh's proud smirk answered her. "Anything for you, aulelei" he murmured, his words warm against her skin. He guided her to the plush blanket, where dinner awaited.

"You've truly outdone yourself," she said, her voice filled with admiration.

He playfully scrunched his eyebrows. "Don't act surprised. I can be romantic." making her laugh. They dined, their conversation light and easy, the sound of the ocean a constant backdrop.

After dinner, a comfortable silence settled between them. Josh's gaze lingered on her, admiring the way the wind danced through her hair.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, a playful smirk curving her lips.

"I can't look you?" he countered, his eyes twinkling. He held out his hand. "Come here."

She slipped onto his lap, straddling him, his hands finding their familiar place on her lower back. "Let's make a promise," he said, his voice serious. "No matter the distance, we'll have each other. We'll talk, we'll check in."

"promise," she echoed, her smile soft. She extended her pinky, and he laughed, interlocking his with hers. He pulled her into a deep, lingering kiss, sealing their promise under the starlit Fijian sky.

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Lana Outside focuses on the Inside ❤️

Solana found herself back in the studio a few days after returning from the trip. Josh going back on the road, both keeping the promise they made on the beach that night. 

Ken walked into the room, going over to the soundboard before turning towards her, "you ready to finish that song" 

"Nah," Solana shook her head "I got a new song I want to do" she smiled as she tapped her pencil on her notepad. 

Solana leaned over in the mirror, checking to make sure her hair and makeup was good, til she heard a knock at the door. "Come in"

"Mommy!" The sound of her children's voices sent a wave of warmth through her. Turning, she was met with two small figures rushing towards her, their arms wrapping around her legs in a tight, eager embrace. 

"Hey, babies," she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine joy. She knelt, pulling them into a hug that squeezed a little too tightly, but she didn't care. It had been weeks since the tour began, weeks since she'd held them like this. She pressed soft kisses to the tops of their heads, savoring the familiar scent of their hair. When she finally looked up, her heart skipped a beat. Josh stood in the doorway, his eyes meeting hers, and a familiar flutter of butterflies erupted in her stomach.

After coaxing the kids onto the plush couch with their iPads, promising them a post-show treat, Solana slowly rose to her feet. She watched as Josh's gaze traveled over her, taking in the sequined one-piece that hugged her curves. The outfit was a statement, a bold declaration of her confidence, and she could see the appreciation in his eyes.

For a moment, they stood in a silent tableau, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, with a slow, deliberate saunter, Josh closed the distance between them. His towering figure loomed over her, and she felt that familiar sense of being both protected and desired. "Hey, stranger," she said, her voice a soft murmur, breaking the silence with a smile. 

He wrapped his arms around her, the familiar weight of his embrace a comforting anchor. "Hey, superstar," he murmured back, his voice a low rumble. "Think you could spare a few minutes for a couple of your number one fans?"

"I'll always make time for you all," she replied, her eyes searching his. She leaned up, connecting their lips in a kiss that was both tender and charged, a silent acknowledgment of the weeks they'd spent apart. FaceTime calls, while appreciated, couldn't replicate the warmth of his touch, the feeling of his lips on hers.

The moment was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Hey, Lana, you're up in a few minutes," Maria, her tour manager, announced. 

Solana nodded, a flicker of professional focus returning. She turned to her children, giving them each a quick kiss. "Mommy has to go now, but I'll be right back." Then, turning back to Josh, she added, "I've got a new song I'm singing tonight. You'll know it when you hear it."

He nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. "We'll be waiting right here for you."

With a final, lingering glance at her family, Solana slipped out of the dressing room, just as the intro to her first song filled the backstage area. She took a deep breath, ready to step into the spotlight, the memory of their embrace fueling her performance.

Solana stood in the middle of the stage, slightly out of breath as she took in the energy from the crowd. 

A wide, genuine smile spread across her face. "How we feeling tonight?" she called out, her voice amplified, yet still warm and intimate. The response was immediate, a thunderous cheer that vibrated through the floorboards. She scanned the sea of faces, a kaleidoscope of lights and expressions, each one a testament to the shared experience of the night. Her gaze drifted towards the stage exit, and she spotted Josh, his silhouette outlined against the backstage shadows. A soft, knowing smile curved her lips, and she sent him a quick, private smile, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between them.

Turning back to the audience, she felt a surge of anticipation. "Tonight," she announced, her voice filled with a quiet excitement, "I have a new song I want y'all to hear. It's…it's a little different from what we've done so far." She paused, letting the words hang in the air, building the anticipation. "It's called 'Snooze.'"

A hush fell over the crowd, a collective intake of breath, as the band began to play the opening melody. The first few notes were soft, ethereal, a gentle shift in the atmosphere. The driving rhythms of the previous songs faded, replaced by a smooth, sensual groove. The stage lights dimmed, casting a warm, amber glow, and the vibe of the night shifted, slowed, became more intimate, more personal. It was a song of quiet comfort, of finding solace in another's embrace, and Solana was ready to share that feeling with every soul in the room.

I'll touch that fire for you I do that three, four times again, I testify for you I told that lie, I'd kill that bitch I do what all of them around you scared to do, I'm not Long as you juggin' out here for me, I got it

Solana really got into the song. Josh, standing backstage, was mesmerized. Not only by her performance, but by her ability to captivate the audience. A wave of pride washed over him as he watched his wife command the stage. Beside him, their two kids, Maya and Liam, bounced excitedly, their eyes wide with adoration.

The final notes of the song faded, the crowd’s roar washing over Solana like a tidal wave. She held the pose, the spotlight a warm embrace, before finally lowering the mic and flashing a dazzling smile. The band launched into the instrumental outro, a signal for her to exit stage left.

Backstage, the energy shifted from electric to a quiet hum of organized chaos. Stagehands moved with practiced efficiency, and her backup dancers were already gathering for the next number. But all Solana saw was Josh and their kids.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a soft smile playing on his lips. Mia and Liam were practically vibrating with excitement. He pushed off the wall, Liam grabbing his leg, and Mia held his hand, as they walked towards her, the noise of the backstage area fading into a dull background buzz.

"You were incredible," he said, his voice low, a rumble only she could hear. 

Mia and Liam echoed him, "Mommy you were so good!"

Solana felt a wave of relief and pure joy wash over her. "Thank you," she breathed, the adrenaline still thrumming in her veins. "Did you like it?"

He closed the remaining distance, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face. "Like it? Solana, you poured your soul into that song. I loved it. And so did these two." He gestured toward their kids, who were both beaming.

She felt a blush creep up her neck, despite the heat of the stage lights. "It's about you, about us," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

Josh's eyes softened even further. "I know," he said, his gaze locked on hers. "And it's perfect."

"Mommy you were so pretty!" Mia exclaimed, breaking the intimate moment, but in a sweet way.

A stagehand called out, "Solana, two minutes!"

The urgency of the moment snapped them back to reality, but the intimacy lingered. She needed to change, and fast.

"Ok" she turned back towards Josh, gesturing towards the costume rack. "Once mommy is done we'll get that treat ok?" Mia and Liam nodded, giving their mother a final hug.

"Go," he said, stepping back slightly, but his hand lingered on her arm for a moment longer. "We'll be right here."

As she rushed to change, the lyrics of her song echoed in her mind, each word a testament to the feeling that pulsed between them. She knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her bones, that no matter the roar of the crowd, no matter the distance the tour put between them, their connection was the quiet, unwavering heartbeat beneath it all. And in that backstage moment, with Josh and their kids' warm gazes on her, she knew she was home.

If you would like to leave a request go comment on this link post. Check out my master list for other one shots and my other stories.

Tag list: if you want to be added to the tag list comment below!

@xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112 , @theusotwinzcom , @yana3sworld

#jey uso#jey uso smut#jey uso x black fem oc#jey uso x black oc#jey uso x black reader#jeyuso#main event jey uso#wwe

[sea-changed]

"#i have a post to write at some point about the way this movie depicts intimacy between men physical and otherwise" I WOULD LIKE TO READ IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU!! I really have no conclusions at this point, I'm just so interested in the spectrum of ways that the movie depicts intimacy and physicality (as separate but overlapping categories) between its male characters in a way that feels unusual and unselfconscious on the film's part. There's such a variety of dynamics going on: the intense, constant, often boyish but also more charged physicality between László and Attila; the comfortable intimate but not particularly physical friendship between László and Gordon; the largely intellectual relationship and later power struggle between László and Van Buren that culminates in the brutally physical. There's so much going on, on so many different axes.

(Heads up for, perhaps obviously, discussion of rape.)

With László and Attila, in many ways they seem to be able to connect meaningfully only on a physical level (that first hug, my god); when they try to talk to each other (the first scene at Attila's desk, the last scene when he kicks László out) it doesn't go well. The dance scene, meanwhile, is in some weird third space--the sexually charged coercion going on is pretty overt, but the physicality between the two of them (as opposed to between László and Audrey) never seems uncomfortable or strained.

Meanwhile László and Gordon's intimacy seems to be adjacent but peripheral to direct physicality--Gordon singing to him as László wraps the rope around him to ensure his safety; the way Gordon takes László's cigarette in the jazz club bathroom; them on László's bed together. A lot of their relationship is spoken, though not necessarily directly to each other: László telling Erzsébet he couldn't have gotten the Institute project off the ground without Gordon, for instance, or László saying to the bouncer, I know he is in there, my friend would not leave me.

László and Orazio seem to have the most uncomplicated and warm intimacy, both physical (the hugs are so good) and spoken (will I ever be over Orazio calling him darling; probably not). We also of course see them for the least amount of screentime of any of the relationships discussed here, but I do like that the film establishes an intimacy beyond the bounds of what we see directly: Orazio talking about László's stubbornness, or how much he enjoys a party, or Van Buren (unreliable narrator extraordinaire, but I think this could be taken at face value) saying Orazio carried László to bed.

And of course a brief note here on László and Harry--he twice tries to physically dominate László in a way that almost makes it look like he's grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, using that physicality to undergird what he's saying. László allows it after the Christmas party and shakes it off after the groundbreaking ceremony, but both times it's very loaded.

Conversely, though, László and Van Buren's physical relationship doesn't have this same kind of menacing tone until, of course, the rape scene itself. The first time they touch in the film it's László's doing, when he reaches out to touch Van Buren's hand at Christmas dinner after the conversation about helping to get Erzsébet to America. (I could write pages about this moment; it breaks my fucking heart.) (And then that moment ends up having a terrible sort of mirror in the scene at the beginning of part two, when their hands touch as Van Buren makes László hand back the penny.) Van Buren doesn't try to physically dominate László the way Harry does, and indeed the way Van Buren touches him is generally quite benign--Van Buren taking him by the shoulders on the Institute site after dinner, or grabbing him by the arm after the argument with Jim Simpson, or leaning on him in the quarry. When Van Buren is at his most domineering and manipulative it's largely verbal (the crack about László's accent) or situational (going behind his back to alter the plans). A part of what's so jarring about the rape, I think, is that it's such an aggressively physical expression of something we've seen in Van Buren, up to this point, as lacking a physical component. And it's an example of physicality in the film that is not only lacking any intimacy but is in many ways the antithesis of intimacy (reinforced by the removed and virtually unmoving camera angle).

I said at the beginning that I don't have a thesis here, and I really don't; at this point I'm more or less just listing things that happen in the movie. But it's so fascinating to me, and I felt like there was such specificity to the ways that characters related to each other physically and otherwise; I think about it constantly, and maybe at some point will have some actual conclusions.

[konakoro]

I'm hoping the "giant distressed man getting beat to a pulp to help his tiny competent lady partner" becomes the new action movie trend because I like it a lot more than stock gruff action dude

[thedropsofblood]

A wolf in hunter's clothing

Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.

Word count: 8k

Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs

Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.

Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.

As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.

It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?

The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.

It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?

.

.

.

Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?

Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...

You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?

Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?

You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.

"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.

"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.

"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.

Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.

"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."

The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.

You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."

You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.

"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.

This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.

Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.

That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.

You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."

You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.

"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.

Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.

You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.

He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

HEAD OVER HEELS

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict readers appearance !!)

SUMMARY: in which drew starkey is head over heels in love with his girlfriend, y/n.

based on this ask !! i really hope you like this anon, you didn’t request a specific plot so i went with this :)

WARNINGS: pure fluff, obsessed!drew but in a cutie patootie way !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

A/N: i promise guys i will sort out making a master list tonight !! for now, click on my personalised tags like #bettys asks !!

WORD COUNT: 1k

THIRD PERSON +

Drew couldn't stop talking about her. His girlfriend, Y/N, that is.

His castmates on the Outer Banks set had long since grown used to it, though they still teased him mercilessly. It wasn't unusual for him to pull out his phone between takes and scroll through pictures of her, showing anyone who would listen. Even Chase joked once, "You know, Drew, we've all met her. You don't have to keep proving she exists."

But Drew didn't care. He loved talking about her. Loved the way her smile lit up his entire day, the way her laughter felt like sunshine breaking through clouds. Y/N was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn't shy about letting everyone know it.

"She's visiting today," Drew announced, a giddy grin spreading across his face as he leaned against the craft services table.

Madelyn raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. "You've only mentioned that about a hundred times this week."

"Yeah, and what's your point?" Drew shot back, unbothered. He grabbed a bottle of water and opened it, taking a sip before adding, "I just can't wait for you guys to see her again. She's incredible."

Madelyn exchanged a knowing look with Rudy, who was attempting (and failing) to suppress a laugh.

When Y/N finally arrived on set that afternoon, Drew spotted her instantly. She stepped out of the car, her hair slightly tousled from the coastal breeze, and his entire world seemed to pause. She was wearing his favorite sundress—the one he'd told her once made her look like a walking daydream—and he couldn't stop the wide, lovesick smile that overtook his face.

"Y/N!" Drew called out, practically sprinting toward her.

Before she could respond, he had her wrapped in his arms, lifting her off the ground as she let out a surprised laugh.

"Joseph Andrew Starkey! Put me down!" she exclaimed, though she was grinning just as much as he was.

"Not a chance," he replied, spinning her around once before finally setting her back on her feet. "God, I missed you."

"You saw me three days ago," she teased, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"And that's three days too long," he said without missing a beat, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

It didn't take long for the rest of the cast to spot her. Chase and Rudy came over to say hi, both of them giving her warm hugs and cracking jokes about how Drew had been "insufferable" without her.

"You're a saint for putting up with him," Rudy quipped, earning a playful shove from Drew.

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly as Drew laced their fingers together. "He's not so bad," she said, glancing up at Drew with a soft smile.

"Not so bad?" Drew repeated, feigning offense. "I'll have you know I'm the perfect boyfriend."

"And humble, too," she teased, nudging him lightly.

The group chatted for a while before Drew pulled her away, eager to have her to himself. He brought her to his trailer, where he'd set up a small surprise for her: a bouquet of her favorite flowers and a handwritten note resting on the table.

"Drew," she said softly, her eyes shining as she turned to look at him. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You deserve it. You deserve everything."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as she took a deep breath. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Not possible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

For the rest of the day, Drew was glued to her side. He introduced her to everyone on set—again—even though most of them already knew her from her previous visits. But it didn't matter to Drew. He wanted to show her off, to let the world see just how amazing she was.

During breaks in filming, he would find her wherever she was sitting and drape himself over her like an oversized golden retriever. "You comfortable?" he'd ask, despite the fact that he was the one taking up all the space.

"Very," she'd reply, laughing as she adjusted to make room for him.

When it came time for Drew to shoot his scenes, Y/N watched from the sidelines, her eyes filled with pride. He'd glance over at her between takes, flashing her a grin or a wink, and her heart would flutter every time.

At one point, Madelyn leaned over to Y/N and whispered, "He's like this all the time, you know. Completely obsessed with you."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink, but she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. "I'm not complaining," she said softly, her gaze never leaving Drew.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the set, Drew was practically attached to her hip. He posted a candid photo of her sitting on a beach chair, the ocean in the background and a soft smile on her face. The caption was simple: My favourite view.

"You're going to make people sick with how sweet you are," she joked when she saw the post.

"Good," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Let them be sick. I don't care."

That night, as they sat on the beach together, watching the waves crash against the shore, Drew couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

"I love you," he said suddenly, his voice soft but steady.

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and a little surprised.

"I mean it," he continued, his gaze locked on hers. "I love you. More than anything."

A smile spread across her face, and she reached up to cup his cheek. "I love you too, Drew."

In that moment, with the stars beginning to twinkle above them and the sound of the ocean in the background, Drew felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. With her.

Always with her.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so sweet :’) there’s something about guys who are so lovesick and obsessed with their gf’s that just MELTS my heart😫

i’m still working my way through all my requests from oldest to newest (except a couple i got good inspiration for), so please be patient if you’ve recently requested something !! <3

[shitpostingsapphic]

My favorite headcanons for caitvi are ones where they met as kids/teens, by far

Like it's so fucking cute, the idea that Caitlyn would be immediately drawn to Vi due to her curiosity, and Vi can't help but be smitten by Caitlyn's atypical behaviors and willingness to explore new concepts and experiences and ideas.

Just like when they meet as adults in the original universe, their backgrounds should make them incompatible, but there's that inexplicable draw that brings them together.

Imagine Caitlyn tags along with Jayce to his visits in the undercity without telling her parents and can't stop staring at the pink haired girl she sees there at the shop, just hanging around, and they meet eyes, and BOOM, instant connection. Vi also sneaks glances and realizes she's never seen a Piltie girl her age this close before. She wonders if they're all this pretty.

Imagine Vi is sneaking around topside to catch glimpses of Caitlyn, because she feels like she shouldn't be so drawn to a Piltie, but she is anyway.

Imagine one day Caitlyn actually catches sight of Vi across the street as she tries to remain inconspicuous, but Caitlyn would recognize that pink hair in a heartbeat. Imagine she sneaks away from her mother or whoever she's with in order to go talk to her.

"It's you," she says, shy yet bold.

Vi, of course, tries to play it off. "Dunno what you're talking about, topside." But the blush on her cheeks tells another story.

Caitlyn ignores the very obvious attempts at ignorance. "I've been wanting to come visit the shop again, but it's hard for me to find the chance to get away from my mother. She's kind of overprotective."

Vi decides it's best not to play dumb, but can't completely be honest about wanting to see her as well. "You're sure you wanna share about your life with me? Maybe your mom's got a point, shouldn't associate with undercity trash and all."

Caitlyn frowns. "I don't think you're trash. That's silly. Why would you call yourself that?"

Vi is caught a bit off guard. "Isn't that what all you Pilties think of us?"

"I certainly don't." Caitlyn cocks her head as this leaves Vi without a response. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Vi stumbles around in her head for an answer. Shoves her hands in her pockets. Kicks a rock aside. Shrugs. "W-why are YOU talking to me?"

This makes Caitlyn smirk. "I DID say I've been meaning to come back to the shop. What do you think?"

"Dunno. Could want a number of things there." Vi has been staring at the ground but peers up at Caitlyn here. "Give me a hint?" The barest of upturned lips.

This makes Caitlyn break out into a genuine smile that steals Vi's breath a bit. "You're kind of adorable, you know that?"

Vi sputters. "Am NOT."

"Are so." Caitlyn tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Can't help but think the girl's freckles compliment her blush well.

Vi rolls her eyes, trying to pretend her brain isn't setting off fireworks. "I don't even know your name."

"Would you like to know it?" Caitlyn says, tilting her head.

"Since you insist on teasing me, I think it's fair."

"But you make it so easy," Caitlyn giggles. "Alright. I'm Caitlyn."

"Caitlyn," Vi breathes. Shakes her head. Clears her throat. Thrusts her hand out, scuffed up palms and knuckles and all. "I'm Vi."

"Vi. Pleasure to meet you." Caitlyn takes her hand without hesitation, notices how rough they feel compared to hers, incredibly intrigued.

"Caitlyn!" A voice calls. The girls both turn. It's her mother.

"Shit." Caitlyn breathes.

This makes Vi laugh, surprised. "Didn't know princesses could use words like that."

"Oh, hush." Caitlyn looks back at her, panicked. "I have to go. I'm sorry." Her eyes shift so they're alight with mischief. She jerks her head towards her mom. "You've got a talent for sneaking around, I assume?"

"And if I do?"

"Wait until we're out of sight. Maybe if you're good enough, you can stay under her radar." Caitlyn smirks. "Maybe you could teach me how to sneak about myself. Could come in handy."

Without giving Vi a chance to respond, she turns away, skirt swishing about.

And if Vi does exactly what Caitlyn says, following her home out of sight, and later taps at the same glass doors of the balcony she sees the girl disappear into after a while of spying, no one is the wiser. She figures she doesn't need to tell Vander what she's been up to just yet.

[x--sinner--x]

I love the concept of coincidental rape. Like just imagine being neighbours, but we found each other on a dating app. We talk and flirt for days, and eventually we reach the point of exchanging selfies and other spicy pictures.

And then one day I noticed something. In one of the pics you sent me, I could see my own house in the reflection. You took one right by your window and that's how I realized it.

With this newfound information I had to act upon it. I eagerly knock on your door, and you don't disappoint as you answer the door quickly.

"Hey, we haven't really met but I am your neighbour," I introduce myself, "and this is my house behind me. Can I come in? I would like to get acquainted."

I didn't know such a bombshell was talking to me on a dating app while being my neighbour.

"Yeah, sure. Please come in." The funny part is, as I am walking into the hallway of your house, you are texting me on the dating app. "Sorry daddy, but I have a visitor. I'll talk to you later. 💋💋"

And my phone pings with the notification you just sent me. While I know the cause behind the ping, you have no idea as it's just a normal notification in your eyes.

"Thanks for letting me in. You have a gorgeous house." I pause for a moment to take in the view and proceed to talk again. "And here you go. I wanted to bring you a gift to introduce myself."

"Thank you for the compliment... and for the gift as well. What is it?" You ask curiously.

"It's a pretty rare vintage wine bottle. My dad had a wine cellar and was an avid wine collector. When I moved here, I brought some of his collections with me, and I thought you would enjoy it. Wanna drink with me?"

"Aw that's lovely. And yeah sure, we could have a drink." But little did you know, I had put in a little substance to knock you out in a matter of seconds.

We both make our way to your living room, where sofas are arranged around a small glass table with some glasses. You use a bottle opener and pour some for both of us. We take seats opposite each other and I take my glass of wine and bring it up to my mouth, but I don't drink it. I waited patiently until you took the first sip and it wasn't long before that happened.

"Do you live here alone? Seems pretty big for you." I ask you a simple question, just to break the ice until you fall unconscious.

"Well, this is my friend's house actually. She has moved abroad with her family, and I was searching for a house and she rented it to me a year back." You take another pause to take a few quick sips and then continue. "Damn, this wine really tastes good. Great choi---- huh.. what's happe--"

The wine glass shatters on the ground as you pass out on your side of the sofa. I placed my glass back on the table as I had accomplished what I was hoping for.

I carry your passed out body to your bedroom and place you down gently on the bed. I whip out my phone and take some pictures of you - for keepsake purposes.

I slowly proceed to take off your clothes and look at you in all of your glory. You look much more pretty than the pictures you keep sending me in a teasing way. I couldn't hold it in anymore and I come on top of you and mount my cock next to your entrance and start thrusting it inside you.

Your pussy feels so tight even as you are passed out. Your breasts flop up and down with each thrust and when I look up at you, you look just like a dainty little flower. People might always look at your cute and demure side of you, but what I'm seeing now is a whole another side of you.

Your glowing skin puts infectious thoughts into my brain, forcing me to act upon them. I give into my desires, violating your supple skin and leaving marks as I go. I smell the perfume on your hair and it only makes me all the more feral. Your breasts are so milky that my hands sink in with every squeeze.

I take your breasts into my mouth and suck on it like a baby and it feels so good. I was picking up the pace with which my cock was moving inside your pussy. I grab onto your hips as I thrust harder, reaching further parts of your pussy with subsequent thrusts.

I think I overestimated my own resistance to cum, because it didn't take me too long, combusting all that pent up cum straight up her womb. I pull my cock out and see some of it dripping out onto the sheets - and it made me only want to continue. I pushed my cock back in her hole - in every hole in fact, taking turns - until I unloaded my cum several times in each one of them - and watching my cum drip out of every hole was very satisfying to see.

I took some more photos of you in that state, and sent you those pictures in the dating app.

"No worries baby. Here are some souvenirs of our first encounter with each other. Thanks for the return present. It was really lovely. Hope you liked all of my presents.

- Your visitor. 💋💋💋"

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Now (PT. 2)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]

(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)

Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything. 

After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.

"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling’ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.

Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.

"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace. 

Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"

"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."

"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.

"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.

"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."

Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."

"And?"

"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."

"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"

"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?

"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.

"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."

"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"

"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.

"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"

Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.

"Why?"

"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.

"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.

"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."

"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."

Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.

"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."

You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.

"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.

"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.

"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.

All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.

When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.

Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.

You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.

Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much. 

Dick, in that way, was too much.

You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with. 

Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…

You hope he's okay, at least.

Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.

You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely. 

It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.

You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…

Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick. 

Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.

The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.

Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.

Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.

Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.

As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?

Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.

Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all. 

So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.

Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.

Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on. 

Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.

Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else. 

Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…

Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.

Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.

The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.

Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway. 

Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.

Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.

Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.

Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.

Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.

You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.

The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.

A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.

You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.

You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.

Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.

Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.

… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance. 

Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.

You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.

Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.

His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.

Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.

“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.

“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.

“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can’t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before. 

“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.

You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.

“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.

He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far. 

While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.

Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.

Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.

Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.

Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time. 

A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him. 

You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.

You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment. 

Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.

Point is, you have clearly changed. 

Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.

Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.

It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least. 

Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.

Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.

He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.

“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.

Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?

Why now? What was going on?

“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.

So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.

“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.

He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”

“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.

Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?

Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?

Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?

Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?

You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.

Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.

“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”

So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely. 

Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.

Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore. 

Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.

However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.

“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest. 

Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.

“I’m here to see you.”

‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.” 

Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.

“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.

“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart. 

“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.

“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.

Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.

“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.

“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”

Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.

There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.

You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?

From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.

The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.

“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.

“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”

“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”

“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”

“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”

“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.

“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”

“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.

“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't. 

If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now. 

“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well. 

So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask. 

“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.

He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.

“... What do you-”

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.

“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process. 

“...”

You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?

You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.

“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”

Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.

He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.

He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.

“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.

Something he doesn't find.

He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”

“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax. 

“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”

“I know where it is.”

“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.

“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?” 

“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”

Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”

“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface. 

“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.

“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”

“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”

“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”

“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.

Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?

“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.

“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”

“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.

“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.

“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?” 

“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.

However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.

“We both know how that turned out.”

If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.

“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.

“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”

“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does. 

“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop. 

“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.

“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer. 

“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”

“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.

Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.

Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.

“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.

You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.

“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.

“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.

“Just. Stop.”

“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why. 

Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset. 

After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother? 

You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.

… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain. 

Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.

This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.

“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.

Is he seriously asking you that?

“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”

“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.

“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.

“... What?”

“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”

Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?

He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”

“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.

“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.

“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-

Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.

“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”

“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.

“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.

You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”

An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.

He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.

“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now,  “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.

“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”

“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.

The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”

The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out. 

So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.

“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”

“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”

“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.

The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?

“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”

Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.

Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”

“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.

“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ‘let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.

“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.

“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”

“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?

“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”

“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”

“Y/n, please, just calm down-”

“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”

“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.

Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”

“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”

“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”

“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained. 

“Well, I’m just saying-”

“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.

Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”

“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”

“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”

“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.

“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”

“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.

Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.

“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”

“Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?

It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.

“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”

“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”

“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”

For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.

“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.

“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”

“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”

“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”

“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”

“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”

“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”

“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”

“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.

“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”

“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.

“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”

“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”

“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”

“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.

Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.

If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.

Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.

“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”

“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”

“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”

“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”

“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”

“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”

“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”

“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”

“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”

“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”

“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”

“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”

“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”

“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.

You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.

“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”

“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”

“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”

“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”

“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”

“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”

“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”

Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.

“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it.  Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing. 

He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.

So, he falls silent. You both do.

Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.

“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.

Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.

“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”

You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”

Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.

He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.

… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.

Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.

[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]

Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.

[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]

… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.

With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.

Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.

Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.

Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.

The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.

Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.

With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.

For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.

—----------

Dick had no such luxury.

The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.

All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.

Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.

“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.

“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.

“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.

Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”

“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.

“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”

Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”

“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.

“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”

“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”

“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment. 

Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.

“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.

Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.

… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.

“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.

That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”

He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there. 

“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”

“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.

Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!

“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”

Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”

“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.

“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.

Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”

“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”

Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.

A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.

“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.

“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”

[cregansdingdong]

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘʟᴇꜱꜱ.

Cregan Stark x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, p-in-v penetration, outdoor sex(does a tent still count as outdoor?), swearing, Cregan has a breeding kink, semi-public?, slight brat taming, classic doggy style, ass slapping, f!receiving oral, Cregan’s gonna eat her out from the back which is truly the highlight here; so. this has been festering in my drafts for well over two months. Good luck. poison ivy by hemi moore

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Are you going to explain yourself or do I have to ask why you’re speaking to me that way in front of my men?”

“In what way?” She murmurs, snappily adjusting the furs beneath her, staring above at the roof of their tent. Cregan watched in partial disbelief—and partial irritation—at the sight of his wife going to bed despite their disagreement. It wasn’t often that they argued, and especially not on account of her publicly disrespecting him. The Hunt was meant to celebrate the unity of the North, among other things, and yet she’d been cold to him most of the late afternoon and early evening. They were meant to be setting an example. He couldn’t understand what he’d done to agitate her in the first place. “I’m not going to play this game with you.” Cregan huffs, setting down his cloak on the back of a chair. “Why have you been so cross with me today of all days?”

“I haven’t.” She counters smartly, tone filled with an attitude he wanted nothing more than to fuck out of her. “You’re being childish.” He grunts right back, earning a glare from his cross little wife. If he hadn’t been so ticked off, he might’ve actually laughed at the way her eyes narrowed in his direction—like a pup about to pounce. “I’m not a child.” She snaps, turning to adjust her pillow as he removes his boots. He snorts at that. “You’re behaving like one. Now are you going to resume your wifely duties and speak to me or must I tuck you in and read you a story?” He could’ve done without the mocking, but both their tempers had risen by that point, overspilling and soaking their marriage bed like a tempest.

She ignored him completely, reaching to blow out the candle at her bedside, rolling over to face the wall of the tent, linens and furs pulled up to her chin. As much as he was irritated with her refusal to communicate, he wasn’t going to sulk until she decided to give him the mercy of her words. Cregan continued to undress down to his small clothes, joining her under the covers despite their mutual fuming. It was an agreement they’d reached at the beginning of their marriage: angry or not, their bed was shared. Non-negotiable. He was especially thankful for that condition now—the ground did not look very comfortable if she’d decided to banish him like a hound. He faced her back, arm thrown haphazardly over her middle. Admittedly, he needed to feel her there to get a proper night’s rest. She allowed it.

The tension had seeped into their tent, clearly choosing to remain even with the terms of bedtime they’d set in place. She was still angry, he was still puzzled. Even with her back against him, Cregan could still sense her irritation. It hung in the air like a dark cloud, refusing to disperse. He’d never thought being married would sometimes feel like a storm in his own home. But the Wolf of the North was not a man to back down from a challenge. And it was becoming clear to him that his wife wouldn’t talk unless he spoke first. So he does. "You can’t keep behaving this way,” He starts, his voice gravelly but low. There's about a minute of tense silence between them before her attitude-filled reply breaks the quiet of their tent. “And why not?”

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he shifts in the bed, arm still loosely wrapped around her waist. “Firstly you’re my wife. Secondly, the hunt was meant to celebrate the North. And thirdly…” His voice trails off, his jaw clenching. He’d already said too much for his liking. Cregan was never one to give too much away, and giving an explanation for his emotions had never been a strength of his. But with her…there was a part that he couldn’t help but be honest with her. She wouldn't judge him even on his worst days. “Because I don’t like it when you’re angry with me.” His words were heavy with sincerity, which only irritated him more. The Wolf of the North was not supposed to feel so exposed to his little dragon wife’s moods.

For a moment, he thinks he's gotten through to his stubborn wife. "...we can discuss it tomorrow. I want to sleep." She grumbles into the dark. “You want to ignore it tomorrow, you mean,” He retorts, arm still refusing to remove itself from her waist despite the rejection. Cregan lets the argument drop for now, however. But only because he can tell for himself that she's not going to give way to his stubborn badgering that night. He grunts in annoyance, shifting so that his chin rests on her shoulder. “Unbelievable.” He mutters to himself. Angry or not, though, they were going to cuddle. It’s the smell of her hair that pulls him into a steady rest, his chest pressing against her back, his arm still slung over her middle like a claim. For some reason, even in his sleep, he still needs to feel her near him; a possession of the body and mind. The two of them adjust a little, the usual marital squirming in order to get comfortable. Peace even in the chaos of their argument.

On the other hand, his wife could not find sleep even if she had a map. With him snoring lightly behind her—something that always put her to sleep—both irritation and guilt chewed away at her reserve, leaving her restless. It persists. An hour passes, then two, and still, Lady Stark was wide awake, bothered and guilty. The snoring continues through the night, the Northern Lord blissfully unaware of her warring emotions. But even unconscious, he could sense the battle for sleep. The Wolf of the North stirred beside her, his arm now fully thrown over her torso, hand resting against her ribs. Cregan was in no way a light sleeper, but as her frustration grew, he seemed to be silently disturbed from his sleep. His eyes flutter open with a tired hum, his chin buried in the warmth of his wife still. He’s quiet for a few long moments before mumbling in a groggy voice, thick and raspy. “You’re still awake.”

“I can't sleep.” She mutters. It's clear that the heat of their argument had ceased to a smolder in the while she had reflected into the dark. "Probably because I'm still upset." She sighs. "And I'm a little cold...and..” As she speaks, his initial tiredness starts to clear. “And?” He prompts, shifting again to lift his head in the slightest.  His hand rubs against her stomach, trying to share any semblance of his warmth with her. “...I feel…worked up. I'm annoyed but…roused.” It's laced with a begrudging admittance and Cregan opens his eyes in disbelief, suddenly more awake at her mumbled words. A rush of heat rolls through his body, his heart skipping a beat. It always does. The thought alone never failed to stop him in his tracks. His hand stills against her stomach for a moment, considering how to respond. “Well, my love, it sounds like you've had enough of keeping your anger a secret. You can tell me no matter what. Even if it's childish and silly. I'm your husband.”

"You didn't eat breakfast with me this morning." She blurts, finally revealing what had made her so irritated all day. "You gave me a kiss and then you just ran off to eat with Torrhen Manderly. Didn't even invite me.” He pauses in his caresses, a low hum leaving his chest. “That’s what caused your little temper tantrum?” He murmurs, tone still somewhat drowsy but now a bit exasperated. Affectionately, of course. He can’t fight the small smile that’s formed on his lips. A temper tantrum over him eating with the second son of the Lord of White Harbor and not inviting his sweet wife. It was such a small thing, but for some reason, it makes his chest feel tight. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in a morning meeting with House Manderly,” he mumbles in response, pulling her closer, his hand once again tracing patterns across her waist.

"I'm not, but I'm interested in sitting with you.”

The corners of his mouth twitch even more at that. A quiet huff of a chuckle leaves his lips, and he moves his chin to rest on her shoulder, warm breath lightly fanning on her jaw. “So I’m to invite you to every little meeting I have now?” He murmurs, teasing and still somehow half-drowsy. There's a very light dusting of indignation in her tone as she answers. "...not all of them, I'd be bored to death." She huffs. "But today was about unity. I didn't feel very unified with you.” He grumbles under his breath in mild disagreement. The Hunt wasn’t all about unity, it was about celebration. Of the North and of the Starks. Unity amongst the Northmen was an important facet of the feast, but it was not the entire point. But he didn’t want to argue about that, especially not when she was still so irritable with him. “You should’ve just come by and sat yourself down then. Torrhen would've liked your company, and of course I had no problems with having my beautiful wife beside me.”

"And intrude? That's embarrassing." He could hear her pout from a mile out, at least. Cregan’s chest vibrates against her back with a low laugh. “And throwing a little fit all day isn’t embarrassing?” He muses, nipping at her shoulder. "...it's more dignified than begging.” She grumbles. One of his hands suddenly moves from her stomach and up to her jaw. In almost an instant, his wife was putty in his grasp once more. He turns her head, pressing a kiss against the corner of her mouth, his tongue suddenly swiping over the skin—almost like he needed a taste of her. A low, gravelly murmur leaves his chest. “There’s no part of you that has to beg for my attention. But I’m not sure it’s dignified to pout all day over me having a morning meeting, my sweet Lady Wife.”

Before she could say something smart in return, Cregan dips his face into her neck, unable to stop himself from taking a greedy bite. She makes a small noise from the back of her throat—a mewl that sends the sleep far, far away from his thoughts. He smiles against her skin when he feels her tilt her head for more. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” He teases, taking advantage of her movement to press another open-mouthed kiss against her neck. “Pouting all day for my attention, and here you are, melting at it now.” In the quiet of the tent, he can hear the low, shaky exhale release past her lips. “I'm sorry…for being impolite to you with your men present.”

“An apology?” His voice holds his amusement, and he continues his trail of kisses up her neck, until his lips are hovering right next to her ear. “Now that is a new one. I’m sure some snow from beyond the Wall will start falling within the hour if you’re apologizing to me. Not something you make a habit of doing, my sweet wife.” He felt her smile just a little, and he mentally counted down for whatever joke she was about to tell him. “At this rate, I'm sure Winter is fleeing.” His nose brushes up against the skin behind her ear, and he lets out a barely stifled laugh. “That’s blasphemous to say in the North…but funny.” He pushes himself up on his forearms above her, looking down, eyes suddenly filled with barely contained heat—as was his usual disposition. "Still annoyed and roused?”

"Not annoyed. Just worked up." She murmurs, tracing the outline of his shoulders in the dark. He hums in acknowledgment, stomach warming at her confirmation. “You want me to tire you out? Make up for this morning?” His voice is still thick and gravelly, a testament of his deep sleep and the hunger that now had him captivated. Her response came out in a quiet ‘mmhm’, reaching for him through the dark. In one swift movement, Cregan flips her onto her stomach, chuckling at the noise of surprise she releases. Furs and linens thrown back, his hands glide over the skin of her thighs, gently raising the hem of her delicate shift. It was a slow, deliberate action, and he didn’t need to see her face to know how much she was anticipating his touch. As her nightgown rose over the curve of her ass, he could feel the goosebumps forming beneath his palms. “Arse up, face down.”

She shivered at the command. Simple, yet drowning her in want. How could she ever deny her Wolf of the North? With a near-silent grunt of effort, she raises herself on her knees, lowering her upper-half down onto the pillows. The hem of her shift pools at her mid back, exposing herself to her husband just the way he loved it. “Perfect.” He murmurs, his hands gripping the flesh of her ass like he couldn’t wait to take a bite out of her. “Look at you. Fighting me all day, and yet here you are. All but begging for me to unspool you. I should make you beg, but you’re quite lucky I don’t have the patience, wife.” Just as she thinks she’s going to feel his hot tongue, a hand comes barreling down on her rear, a loud, searing spank that was probably heard from the next tent over. Her gasp was barely stifled into the pillow.

His tongue dipped slowly between her folds, a measured pace that nearly made her lose her breath. He always knew how she wanted it. Back and forth, savoring her like her juicy cunt was his last meal in the living world. With every languid stroke forward, the tip of his tongue nudged her twitching pearl in a toe-curling rhythm. Her noises only urged him on further. He slurped up her slick like a man starved, wordlessly encouraging her movements as she rocked back against his tongue. Eyes shut, face contorted in bliss, he could only picture what she looked like in his mind’s eye. He was too preoccupied with his meal to bother to light any candles. Not that he needed them, anyway. He knew her body as if they shared a soul. His wife was unable to piece together a single word, reduced to a puddle of whines and squirms.

“All day.” He reiterates. “Talking back to me. I accept your apology, but that does not mean you’re entirely free of the consequences, pup.” And then, another. Harder than the last, and most certainly stinging. Another. Another. He was merciful enough to distribute his spanks evenly, and with every bloom of hot pain, she felt herself grow more and more eager for a release. “Please–” She mewled, on the verge of patheticism. A sixth sear spreads over her left asscheek. The rest of her plea remains locked in her throat. “I’ve had enough of your pretty mouth speaking against me.” He murmurs into the dark, hands massaging the hot skin with an air of tenderness. “Understand?” Head spinning with lust, she can barely form a coherent word. “..Y-yes.” That seemed to moderately satisfy him, and Cregan finally leaned his face down, spreading her for his pleasure.

“I’ll never tire of your sweet taste.” He rumbled against her, fingers digging into the supple flesh of her ass like he was afraid she’d run off. Not that she ever would, but the feeling of her in his hands was grounding—a reminder of who he was and where he was between every dive of his tongue. He was drowning in the tang of her. Every lap of his tongue drove her an inch closer to her peak. “Cregan—Cregan, I can’t.” She cried, on the verge of desperation. If he’d had her sitting on his face instead, it would’ve been much easier to keep her from wiggling, but she couldn’t help herself not to writhe against his mouth and nose. And frankly, he was too hungry to separate himself from her for even a moment in order to change position. No. Not even a snippet of patience. He needed her to release.

“Yes, you can.” Cregan grunts against her soaked cunt, although it was less than coherent—something about the idea of getting caught made him eager to please. With all the pretty noises she was making for him, he couldn’t bring himself to attempt to quiet her. Not that it mattered. He doubted anyone would dare interrupt the Lord Paramount of the North and his Lady wife. And yet, someone walking by? Hearing the private way she cried out for her husband? Thrilling in every sense of the word. The thought alone made his blood pump, and his teeth lightly nip at her sweet pearl. More like a graze, really, but her reaction seemed otherwise. She squeals into her pillow, a throaty, rabid sound that nearly makes him peak. She was coming. And he had the absolute pleasure of lapping up all her delicious juices right from the source.

He couldn't make himself wait any longer after that. Cregan pawed at his small clothes until he was entirely bare behind her, feeling his beautiful wife tremble as he aligned his twitching cock. There was no other sensation in the living world that mattered to him more than the way her walls stretched to accommodate his size. Absolute perfection. Nothing but bliss. A noise of pleasure rumbled from his throat as he sunk into her soaked cunt. Inch by murderous inch, the Wolf of the North felt his sense of reality fade into the background. Much like an animal focused on dragging their kill home, Cregan was fixated on drowning himself inside her to the hilt. No matter how many times he'd experienced that exact sensation, he would never tire of his perfect Lady wife. Not even if she'd throw a tantrum every day for the duration of their marriage—so long as he got to kiss her goodmorning and fuck her goodnight.

“There we go…” He grunts, laying himself over her back as he eased his tip deep inside. Pulling out and back again was a torturous, toe-curling feeling, but the little mewls she whined into the pillows made it worth every teasing drag of his hips. “This is how it should be.” Cregan pants, his nose pressed against the back of her neck. “You, enjoying your fulfilled cravings, and me, balls-deep inside my woman. I hate fighting with you—but I love fucking that attitude right out.” Her thighs trembled as he rutted into her ass, an incessant, fervent type of rhythm that only came out when she truly frustrated him. And she certainly had; all day long, in fact. But his vixen of a wife couldn't bring herself to regret a thing. She knew what she was going to do in the next Great Hunt.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[d1stalker]

I Want You [Logan Howlett]

Summary: Logan is jealous of you and Scott's friendship, not knowing your true feelings.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please. fem/afab!reader. brief argument, logan being stubborn comme d'hab, making out, oral, riding, you get the idea ;)

WC: 2.9k - MASTERLIST

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the X-Mansion grounds. You find yourself on the patio, leaning against the railing, watching as the last rays of sunlight dip below the trees. The tranquility of the moment is soothing, a brief escape from the chaos that often fills your days.

Your mind drifts to earlier that day, when you and Scott had been working together in the training room. He's always been a good friend—someone you can rely on when you need advice or a steady hand in a crisis. Scott had patiently helped you fine-tune your abilities, offering encouragement and constructive feedback.

"You're really getting the hang of it," Scott had said with a smile as you both took a break, sitting on the edge of the training mat. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Scott," you had replied, grateful for his support. "Couldn't have done it without your help."

He had shrugged, a modest grin on his face. "We make a good team. It's nice to have someone who gets it, you know?"

You had nodded, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship between you. Scott was like the brother you never had, someone who understood the challenges you faced and never judged you for them.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching breaks your reverie. You recognize them immediately—Logan.

"You and Summers seem to be gettin' pretty close."

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow at his accusatory tone. "Scott? We're just friends, Logan. You know that."

He crosses his arms over his chest, scowl deepening. "Doesn't look like it from where I'm standin'."

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can’t help but let it spill over. "And where exactly are you standing? Lurking in the shadows, jumping to conclusions?"

His eyes narrow, jaw clenching. "I'm just callin' it like I see it."

"You don't see anything," you retort, matching his intensity. "You're too busy looking for problems that aren't there."

He steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "I see the way he looks at you."

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "And how do I look at him, Logan?"

"Like he hung the damn moon," Logan mutters, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

"That's rich coming from the guy who's too stubborn to see what's right in front of him," you snap back, heart pounding.

He pauses, taken aback by your words. "What do you mean by that?"

You take a deep breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "I mean, I'm not in love with Scott. I'm in love with you. But you're too busy being jealous and stubborn to notice."

He blinks, surprise flickering across his features. His defenses falter for a moment, and you see the real him beneath the rugged exterior. "Me? Why the hell would you—"

"Because you're you, Logan," you interrupt, voice softer now. "You're gruff and infuriating, but you're also brave and kind. You see through the facade I put up, and you make me want to be better."

He looks at you, his hardened exterior cracking. "I thought I wasn't good enough for you,” he says, quietly. 

You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. The contact is electric, as always, grounding both of you in the moment. "You don't get to decide that for me. I've made my choice."

He stares at you, a mix of disbelief and longing in his eyes. "All this time... and I was just bein' a damn fool."

"Yeah, you were,” you say with a smile, the tension between you dissipating. 

Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess I should apologize for actin' like a jerk, huh?"

You nod, teasingly. "That would be a good start."

He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that makes your heart race. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I was stupid, and I let my jealousy get the best of me."

You smile, feeling the last remnants of your anger melt away. "Apology accepted, but you're gonna have to make it up to me."

Tthe familiar glint returns to his eyes as he smirks. "Oh, I will. Count on it."

A comfortable silence falls between you. The night air is cool and refreshing, and you can hear the distant sounds of laughter from inside the mansion.

"Why didn’t you ever say anything?" Logan asks, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

"I guess I was scared," you admit. "Scared of ruining what we have, of pushing you away. You’re not exactly easy to read."

He chuckles softly. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who’s scared. I’m not good at this...feelin’ stuff. Always thought it’d get in the way."

"It doesn’t have to," you say, hoping your words convey the sincerity you feel. "You don’t have to do this alone, Logan. We can figure it out together."

He nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You share a moment of quiet understanding. For once, there’s no need for words. You both know what this means.

"Come on," Logan says suddenly, breaking the silence. "Let’s get outta here for a while."

"Where to?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he shrugs. "Anywhere but here. I hear there’s a nice little spot by the lake where the stars look like they’re close enough to touch."

You laugh, "Alright, lead the way.”

---

The walk to the lake is peaceful, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The sound of your footsteps on the gravel path blends with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. You and Logan walk side by side, your fingers occasionally brushing against each other, only feeding the tension that seems to be growing as each moment passes.

When you reach the lake, the water shimmers under the starlight, a breathtaking view that makes you catch your breath. Logan finds a spot on the grassy bank, and you settle down beside him, lying back to gaze up at the sky.

"It's beautiful here," you whisper, feeling the tranquility of the moment seep into your bones.

Logan nods, his gaze fixed on you instead of the stars. "Yeah, it is."

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, grounding you in the reality of this moment.

You tilt your head up to look at him, meeting his eyes. There's a softness there that you haven't seen before, a vulnerability that makes your heart swell. "I've wanted this for a long time, Logan."

He smiles, a rare and genuine expression that lights up his features. "Me too. Guess I was too stubborn to admit it."

You chuckle softly, reaching up to trace your fingers along the line of his jaw. "I like this side of you."

He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not careful. The world around you fades away as Logan leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It's slow and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly deepens into something more urgent and heated.

You shift closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly as his hand slides up your back, pulling you even closer. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself as the kiss intensifies, leaving you breathless.

Breaking away briefly, his forehead rests against yours as he catches his breath. "You sure about this?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your own breath coming in short gasps. "Absolutely."

With a growl of approval, Logan captures your lips again, the kiss filled with a hunger that leaves you dizzy. He shifts, pulling you with him as he rolls onto his back, guiding you to straddle his hips. His hand traces down your side, sending shivers of anticipation through you. The world around you feels distant and unimportant, the only thing that matters is the man with you and the way he makes you feel.  

As the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the moment, the passion and intensity of it all consuming you. Slowly, you rock back and forth, grinding your hot core against his growing bulge. Something akin to a growl releases from his throat, as his hands tighten their grip on you.

Breaking the kiss, Logan trails his lips down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him to continue his journey, savouring the sensation of his mouth against you. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt, pausing to look up at you. With deliberate slowness, he slides your shirt up and over your head, discarding it with a flick of his wrist. He takes a moment to admire you, his hands tracing the curves of your waist with a gentle reverence.

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice rough with emotion. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

His eyes roam over you appreciatively, lingering on your bare skin. His words and gaze make your heart race and heat flood your cheeks.

“Says you,” you murmur, feeling a heady mix of vulnerability and desire under his gaze.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, flipping you over so you’re now on your back as he hovers above you. “I’ve thought about this moment more times than I can count.”

He begins to kiss the valley between your breasts, hands never ceasing their exploration of your body. Your grasp finds the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers trace over his muscles, delighting in the way they ripple beneath your touch.

Logan grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he moves even lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach. Each touch is electric, leaving a path of heat in its wake. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs. With your pants discarded, Logan settles himself between your thighs, his hands gently parting them to make room for himself. His touch is firm yet gentle, and you shiver in anticipation as he leans in, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin.

He starts with soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasing you with his lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. The feeling sends a thrill through you, making your heart race and your body ache for more. Finally, Logan focuses his attention on your centre, his mouth moving with expert precision as he tastes you. The first touch of his tongue is like fire, a sensation so intense that it steals your breath away. You gasp, your hands finding their way to his hair, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure begins to build.

He works you with a practiced ease, his tongue tracing patterns that have you arching into him, seeking more of the exquisite sensations he’s giving you. He alternates between gentle flicks and firmer strokes, finding a rhythm that leaves you trembling beneath him. Your soft moans and gasps fill the night air, mingling with the sound of the lake and the distant rustle of leaves. Logan responds to your every sound, adjusting his movements, his sole focus on drawing out your pleasure.

As the tension coils within you, winding tighter with each deft movement of his tongue, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release. Logan senses your impending climax, his efforts doubling as he brings you closer and closer to the brink. With a final flick of his tongue at your clit with gentle, firm pressure, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. The world dissolves around you as the waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Logan stays with you through it all, his touch gentle and reassuring as you come down from your high. He presses a soft kiss to your thigh before moving back up to lie beside you, gathering you into his arms as you catch your breath. “Logan,” you whisper, feeling a warmth that’s more than just physical spreading through you.

He smiles, a satisfied, tender expression on his face as he brushes a stray hair from your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs.

You shift slightly, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The sight of him, hair tousled and eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire, stirs something within you. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

Responding eagerly to your initiation, the kiss deepens as your hands explore each other with a renewed sense of curiosity and hunger, as if he didn’t just make you finish with his mouth. You push him gently onto his back, straddling his hips as you trade positions once again, trailing kisses down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tense under your touch.

Your hands make quick work of his belt and jeans, tugging them down to reveal the hard length of him. He’s beautiful. Logan’s breath hitches as you take him in your hand, stroking him with a slow, deliberate rhythm that draws a low groan from his lips.

You lower yourself further, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of him, tasting and teasing until his hands are tangled in your hair, guiding you with a mix of urgency and need. The sounds he makes, the way he reacts to your touch, only spurs you on, and you take him deeper, reveling in the way his body responds to yours.

“Darlin’,” Logan rasps, his voice strained with pleasure, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smile against him, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, the heat in his eyes matching the fire burning within you. “Well, don’t go dying on me now,” you tease, moving back up to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you settle over him. You barely break the kiss as you grab his length and slowly sit down on it. The pleasure of being filled by him draws a gasp from your lips, and a hearty groan vibrates underneath you.

You brace yourself against his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your palms, as you begin to move. The rhythm starts slow and steady, each movement deliberate as you rise and fall, taking him deeper with each movement of your hips. Soon enough, you feel him begin to thrust up into you, matching your pace, pounding into you even deeper than before. 

Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as you pick up the pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sound of your breathy sighs and his low groans fill the air, mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves and the lapping of the lake against the shore.

His eyes remain locked on yours, a dark and heated gaze that stokes the fire within you. You feel the tension coiling tight, winding with each movement until it’s all-consuming, a need that demands release.

“I’m close,” you gasp, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. 

The tension within you builds to a crescendo, a tidal wave of sensation that sweeps you away. With one final movement, you tumble over the edge, your release crashing over you in a symphony of pleasure that leaves you trembling in his arms.

He follows soon after, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he finds his own release, his hands finding and squeezing your breasts while his body shudders beneath you.

When the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you smile against his skin, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that only comes from being with him.

The night air cools the heat between you, and you nestle against Logan’s side, feeling safe and cherished in the aftermath of your shared passion. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you as you bask in the warmth of his embrace.

“Wow,” you whisper, a soft laugh escaping you as you meet his gaze, the stars reflected in his eyes. “That was…”

“Incredible,” he finishes for you, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve got me all figured out, darlin’.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. “I think we’ve got eachother figured out.”

“Yeah, we do,” Logan agrees, pulling you closer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As the night stretches on, you find comfort and peace in Logan’s embrace, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful and real. You’ve found a home in each other’s arms—a place where you truly belong.

---------

A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut yikes lol please leave feedback!

[saphiccarma]

Hi! I saw your requests were back to being open so I would love to send in one if that’s not an issue! Could you do a wandanat x reader where Wanda and Natasha are both professors at a university where school and notice she’s slowly getting more and more burnt out and make it their mission to make her relax/ take care of herself. If comfy mommy Wanda and if not that’s fine! Not too dark smut but smut would be great! Yoy don’t have to make this your priority and don’t forget to take care of yourself!

- Overworked 18+

Relationships - Wandanat x Reader

Summary - When your collage proffesors notice you're starting to become burnt out, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: Soft dom Wanda, Daddy Nat (barely tho), scissoring, fingering, breast play, bath sex, gentle sex

A/N: I'm so sorry 😭this took me forever to get to , but ngl pretty proud of how it turned out

You could hear Natasha talking in front of the class, her words cutting through the air sharp and clear like a knife through butter. Very few students filled the room, either the unlucky ones or the ones dumb enough to take Natasha's class - Slavic Languages. You were a mix of both. Slavic languages was a class you'd been wanting to take ever since you got accepted into the university, but everyone tried to avoid Natasha at all costs, taking other classes instead.

The paper in front of you was a mix of words that swirled together and blurred into black smudges on the white sheet. Pencil shaking in your hand, you place your other on your wrist in a pathetic attempt to stop the trembling. It was most likely a side affect of the caffeine, as was your pounding heart, another energy drink sitting in your bag. Now you regret your spot in the front of class, just another excuse to be close to your girlfriend, but it made her eyes on you all the more intense.

Sharp green eyes flicked to you every now and then, taking in your messy hair and oversized sweatshirt that hung off your frame. The article of clothing still smelled like Natasha, vanilla and something uniquely her, keeping you somewhat grounded.

As you glanced up from your paper, forcing yourself to look away from the jumble of words, you caught Natasha's eye. She tilted her head subtly, a motion that only you noticed. A slight twitch of her eyebrow voiced the unspoken question, and you gave a small smile in hopes it'll appease her. Ever attentive, her eyes narrowed at the weak tilt of your lips but then a student raised his hand, and she had to leave you be for now.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips and your tired shoulders deflate. Natasha notices, based on the way her gaze flickers to you, but she's too busy answering the question in a sharp tone of voice that indicated it was something stupid to ask. Natasha took zero nonsense, one of the things that made her class so hard to pass, but it was something you loved about her.

Unfortunately, when class came to an end, that ended up backfiring on you. She caught your arm as the rest of the students trailed out. You almost wince at her tight grip before she loosens it, but her expression remains hard, eyebrows knitted together, and lips pursed.

"What's going on with you?" She asks, straight to the point, "Wanda and I have texted you dozens of times this morning and last night, yet you've answered none of them."

There's was a sharp reprimand to her tone that had you shrinking back into yourself, but also an underlying layer of concern that peaked through her rough demeanor. You avert your eyes down, a habit they've been trying to break, and shrug.

"I dunno," you mumble, "Been busy."

"Busy?" Natasha repeats slowly, the word falling off her lips like it's the first time she's heard it. You can tell you said the wrong thing.

Hastily, you try and explain, to backtrack, "I've been caught up with school, like half of my teachers have assigned tests or projects and I dunno, I'm just having to focus on those, but I think I can come over this weekend and-" You weren't aware you were rambling until Natasha huffs out an impatient breath.

There's a long stretch of silence where her thumb simply rubs circles on your shoulder. You can see the gears turning in her head, practically hear them, as she thought out her response. It wasn't often that it took her so long to respond, Natasha was rather quick-witted, so this meant it was either something very simple or something complicated.

"I want you at the house tonight," she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument even as you open your mouth to protest, "5 o'clock sharp for dinner, да?"

You lick your lips, already considering the amount of homework you would have. Then you take in the stern look on Natasha's face and nod with pursed lips and a taught expression. She gives you a small, yet appraising smile in return.

^__________________^

You show up with a backpack slung over your shoulder, your laptop and various textbooks crammed inside as it weighs on your shoulders. The chances of you staying the night were high, almost certain, so you might as well get some work done after dinner.

You don't bother with a knock, picking up the spare key from where you dropped it and unlocking the door with shaky fingers. Fresh spices and peppermint candles drift through the air, both potent smells that you've grown used to. With the winter here, Wanda had taken to lighting peppermint scented candles, something that Natasha fought her on.

Their bickering, playful and light, echoed from the kitchen softly and you smiled. It was something familiar, something that pierced through the foggy cloud in your brain. Dropping your bag by the door, landing with a heavy thump, you meander over to the kitchen, lingering in the doorway for a second.

Wanda notices you first, eyes shining with joy that seem to glow even brighter as she spots you. You meet her halfway, steps hurried, and burrow into her embrace with a tired sigh. She smells like the candles that are lit on the counter and a hit of cinnamon. Her hands curl around your neck, long fingers toying with the short strands at the nape and you relish in her touch.

"How are you?" she murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. She slips her hand beneath your shirt and beings to scratch the skin underneath, manicured nails dragging up and down lightly. All you give her in response is a content hum.

Her fingers that were around your neck find your chin, tilting it up gently, "Words, дорогой."

"I'm good," you mumble, licking your lips before she rewards you with a soft kiss to your lips, nose brushing against yours. She pulls away, taking her warmth with her, and busies herself in the kitchen once more. Since Natasha was utterly useless at anything but baking, Wanda did most of the cooking between the two of you.

With the loss of Wanda's comfort, you shuffle over to Natasha who's leaning on the counter. The older woman opens her arms without a word, and you burrow your face into her chest. Her chest rumbles as she laughs, a vibration that shoots straight to your heart and makes you melt.

She rests her chin and chats quietly with Wanda, their conversation going right over your head, both literally and figuratively. All you can focus on is the feeling of Natasha's strong arms wrapped around you, the soft fabric of her hoodie that presses against your cheek, her hand that rubs up and down your back in a soothing motion.

In the back of your mind, you know you should work on homework while Wanda finishes dinner, probably some warm Sokovian dish from her childhood, but being safe in your girlfriend's arms was too distracting. You turn your head and place a soft kiss on her neck, meant to just be a gesture of affection. As you do so you catch a glance at the clock, internally groaning. Pressing another kiss to her smooth skin, you extract yourself from her arms and grab your backpack.

Natasha huffs in disappointment but doesn't say anything as you take a seat at the table, pulling your laptop out and setting to work. The chef glances back with a fond smile on her face that quickly turns into a frown as she notices you starting to type on the laptop.

"дорогой, why don't you put the laptop away for now?" She requests softly. It's not a command, not yet at least, but there's a good chance it will turn into one.

"I have homework to do," The keys click slightly beneath your fingers as you start on an essay, the topic rather simple, but that was exactly the problem. You could explain it in just a page, maybe even less if you needed to, but the essay required three pages. Both of the other woman exchange a glance you miss.

Wanda exhales sharply but leaves you be as she continues on dinner. The words come to you slowly, as if you're pulling every single one of them from a pit of quicksand and they weigh a thousand pounds each as you chuck them onto the paper. It was such an easy task yet you were exhausted from working on it for just a few minutes.

You bounce your leg beneath the table, foot tapping on the wooden floor in a rapid movement as you chew on your chapped lips. It's another habit that you've been trying to break but to no avail, especially with the stress of the last few weeks. Your girlfriends cast a worried look in your direction at the sound of your foot hitting the floor and a frustrated exhale.

They had some sort of freaky marriage telepathy, in all honesty you weren't sure, but they seemed to be able to communicate through just words with each other. At times it was annoying and at other times it was convenient for all three of you. Such as now, where you were so focused on your work you didn't even notice.

Faintly, you register Wanda and Natasha bustling about, plating food for themselves and one for you. The words on the document float off the screen ever so slightly and you sigh, shaking your head to clear your sight before starting again.

A plate of food is slide in front of you, chicken coated in an orange sauce that smells heavenly, but you ignore it. After a moment your laptop is snatched away from you.

"Hey!" you protest, snapping your head up and immediately curling in on yourself when you notice Natasha's firm look, daring you to say more. Your next words are mumbled, "Sorry."

She rolls her eyes fondly but jerks her head towards your plate as she sets your laptop on the counter, "Eat."

Wanda slides into the seat next to you, her hand coming to rest on your thigh and rub slow circles as you eat. It's becoming increasingly harder to focus and you can feel your head getting foggy, slipping into a familiar space. The two talk casually through the course of the meal, but your brain keeps switching between shutting down and drifting towards the impending homework assignments.

Shoveling another spoonful of food into your mouth, flavor bursting across your tastebuds and burning the back of your throat slightly. Only half your plate is gone when you stand from the table, carrying it to the sink and gently dumping the rest of the food into the trash. You can feel Wanda's eyes on your back as you pick your laptop, hardly looking at them, and plopping down on the couch.

The essay is waiting for you, daunting as ever and you almost give up and decide to watch a movie. But regardless, it was due tonight, and you only have about half of it done. The scrapping of chairs and the running water as the dishes clink together fill your ears as you hear Wanda and Natasha clean up.

A part of you feels bad for not helping. Glancing back, your heart clenches as you see the two engrossed in domestic bliss, smiling and laughing as they clean up. You swallowed thickly and forced your head to turn away, force your eyes to stop narrowing in on Natash's arms, her ass, her bright smile and Wanda's nose, the way her nose scrunched when she smiled, and her waist.

Eventually you hear the sink shut off, the chatter slow down, and the soft thump of footsteps. You exhale sharply as your train of thought vanishes, brows furrowing in annoyance and nose scrunching. The couch dips under an added weight and Natasha's arm drapes itself over your shoulders.

"What are you working on?" Her voice is a husky whisper that sends shivers. Natasha leans in close, her breath tickling the skin of your ear.

"An essay," you mumble, fingers faltering as her tongue pokes out to trace the shell of your ear. Breath hitching, you turn your head away, a ridiculously hard task, and scooch over. Your girlfriend huffed with both surprise and annoyance.

Wanda entered the living room with two wine glasses, passing one to Natahsa, "Let her work, Natalia."

You didn't notice it then, but there was a light smile on her face and an almost teasing lilt to her voice. Eyes drifting you notice the wine glasses Wanda brought and you perk up a little.

"Do I get one?" you ask hopefully, meeting Wanda's eyes. The auburn-haired woman sits down onto the armchair, her legs folding beneath her elegantly. She raised an eyebrow, face the perfect imitation of unimpressed.

"Are you working on an essay?" At your nod, she smiles sharply, "Then, no, you do not."

You pout, lower lip jutting out and eyes shining with childish desire, but neither phases Wanda. It never did. It was always Natasha who folded first, but even as you turn your gaze towards her, she merely takes a dainty sip of her wine. Puffing air out your mouth you return to your computer.

Time seems to drag on impossibly slow and you can hear the other two women sitting in silence, merely sipping their drinks. You sneak a glance at Natasha. Her thumb is pressed into the spine of a book as she flips the pages every now and then. Stray tresses of hair frame her sharp face, her emerald eyes focused on the book. A worn hoodie hides the curve of her neck, but you can still picture it and how soft it would be between your lips.

A heat curls in your stomach, low and hardly noticeable, and you force yourself to look away before you can get too distracted. You can feel your eyelids grow heavy despite the fire that sparks in your veins. The movement of your fingers grows slower, typing sluggishly along the keyboard.

You aren't sure how long it is before your computer is snatched away from you again. Wanda snaps it shut, folding it under arm with an unamused look.

"Does this mean I can have wine now?" You quip sheepishly, giving her a cheeky smile.

Wanda sighs and her hand runs over your hair lovingly, "No, it means it's time for a bath and bed."

You lean into her touch, eyes fluttering for a moment before you pull back with a slight pout. You can't go to bed now, you still have to finish the essay, but Wanda doesn't look like she'll budge. Eyes flickering to towards Natasha for help, the other woman is only focused on her book and sipping wine.

"I need to finish my essay."

"Not tonight," Wanda's tone softens and she cups your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eyes, "Sweetheart you have bags under your eyes, and I can see how exhausted you are. C'mon, we'll go take a warm bath and Natalie will make some hot cocoa after she finishes up, hm?"

Natasha hums absently to show she acknowledged the fact, yet you remain stubbornly set on the fact you need to finish your essay. Exhaling slowly at your stubborn expression, Wanda sets your laptop down on the table before sliding into your lap. Your breath hitches at the unusual position and your hands hover by her hips awkwardly.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, eyes flicking to her chest, the small amount of cleavage revealed before back to her face. There's a small smile on her pale lips, eyes shining in amusement. Her hands trail up your sides, stopping when she reaches your shoulders and Wanda leans in close.

Instead of responding verbally she ducks her head, breath warm on the skin of your neck, and her lips dance teasingly over your collarbone. You let out a shaky breath through your nose, thighs pressing together, and hands coming to rest on her waist.

She plants a soft kiss on your collarbone, then a bit higher to your jugular, and finally to your jaw. Raising her head her lips meet yours and you let your eyes fall shut. It's soft and tender, filled with love and devotion, not the usual violent clash of teeth and tongue.

When she pulls away her nail traces the side of your face, "You can be a good girl for mommy, right? Take a bath and get ready for bed?" All it takes is those words to have you nodding like a lovesick puppy. Her smile widens and she taps your nose, "Good girl."

Wanda slips off your lap and onto her feet, offering you her slender hand. You take it, letting her pull you to your feet and guide you through the luxurious house and to the room upstairs. It smells of lavender up here, a contrast to the distinct peppermint downstairs, and the bathroom is cooler than the rest of the house.

Releasing your hand, Wanda starts the bathtub, letting warm water fill the container. Steam starts to rise into the air, already fogging up the mirrors and heating the room. She turns back towards you, smile soft and eyes kind. She works delicately, slowly even, to undress you.

"Let Mommy help you," she murmurs when you try to protest, "You've been a big girl for long enough."

Her words have you melting as your arms raise to allow her to tug the shirt over your head. With familiar ease she reaches around to unclasp your bra, letting it fall on top of your shirt, and then she's undoing the button to your jeans. Graceful fingers dip beneath your panties, and she goes dangerously close to your dripping slit just to tease before pulling your panties down.

By the time she's undressed you, the tub is filled with warm water. Wanda peels off her own clothes next, much swifter than she had with you. The older woman steps into the bath, sinking into the water with a sigh, and gesturing to the space in front of her.

It doesn't take words for you to settle between her spread thighs, leaning back against her bare breasts. The warm water envelops you like a comforting embrace, wrapping around you just like Wanda's arm as she begins to dance her fingers up your side.

You shiver. One of her hands leaves your skin to pump some shampoo and her lathers it onto your scalp. You relax into the sensation, leaning even further back and letting her massage your scalp and play with your hair. A cup of warm water is dumped over your head, and you close your eyes to keep the soapy water out.

Next is conditioner, gently applied like the shampoo. Wanda takes her time, pouring love and care into her movements and small actions. After she rinses out the condition with a few dumps of water over your head, she presses a kiss to your neck.

She doesn't stop there, trailing them from your jaw to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. One of her hands swipes under your breast, teasing, and you whimper slightly.

"Let Mommy take care of you," she breathes in your ear, biting onto your earlobe.

A small whine of agreement passes your lips as her other hand trails down your stomach and settles between your thighs. Two of her fingers part your folds before dipping in, circling around your clit slowly. You let out a shuddering thigh, your head falling back.

Her touch is featherlight, not nearly enough to get off on, but you can still feel your body heating and you know it's not from the bath. Lips still dancing along your neck, she tweaks your nipple between her fingers, rolling and pinching it.

"Wanda," you whisper, voice filled with desire and need.

She chuckles softly against your neck and slips a single finger into your heat, your walls clenching around the digit and sucking her in greedily, "That's not my name, дорогой."

"Mommy," leaves your lips in a breathless plea, her thumb rubbing your clit slowly. All her touches are maddeningly slow, not enough to settle the ache between your thighs and in the pit of your stomach.

"Good girl," she praises and as a reward her pace picks up. The hand on your breast plucks at your nipple until it’s hard and straining in her touch. She switches to its twin, lathering it with the same attention while her fingers work down below.

She adds a second finger to the first, curling them to hit that spongy spot inside of you. A shaky moan falls from your lips as you lean on her shoulder, eyes falling shut. Wanda takes advantage of your exposed neck, biting and sucking love marks onto it, her lips not leaving a single spot untouched.

Her thumb presses against your clit, the little nub pulsing and throbbing with need. Scissoring her fingers, Wanda bites on that sensitive spot just below your ear, smoothing the sting with her tongue. She tweaks your nipple as she thrusts her fingers up harshly.

You gasp, the sound turning into a moan, back arching and walls fluttering around her digits. The need to come builds in your stomach rapidly and you tense up, thighs beginning to shake. Wanda's hair tickles your shoulder as she bites your shoulder, her lips sucking on the mark to leave a hickey.

The bath water is growing cold, but that does nothing to deter the heat that flows freely through your body. Wanda splits her fingers inside your walls, stretching you open for her and her thumb presses down harshly. Whimpering, you claw at the edges of the tub, the smooth surface providing little traction.

Lips parting, you pant slightly, "Mommy- 'm gonna cum, please."

She stretches your cunt out, pulling at your nipple as she kiss your neck. The sensations flow through you like water through a pipe, overwhelming all your senses. All you can smell is her cinnamon perfume and body wash. All you can feel is her fingers, spreading you open and playing with you. Her breath is light in your ear, hot and laced with desire as she speaks.

"Go ahead."

With a final curl of her fingers and squeeze of your breast, pure unadulterated pleasure courses through you. Your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching and toes curling beneath the water. Wanda works you down from your high, keeping her fingers lazily pumping in and out of your cunt, while she presses soft kisses to your neck.

"Such a good girl," she praises, tilting your head to kiss your lips, "Let's get you dried up hm?"

You nod hazily, eyes glazed over and brain foggy. The sight makes Wanda smile. She slips out of the bathtub first, wrapping a towel around her frame before pulling the plug and helping you out. You shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself before you're wrapped in a cozy towel.

"Go see Daddy," she instructs, words gentle, "She'll get you dressed."

There aren’t many thoughts in your head anymore as you exit the bathroom, shuffling up to Natahsa who wraps your arms around you, not caring that you're still wet. She kisses the top of your head before pulling back.

Natasha dries you off with meticulous care, rubbing the fluffy towel up and down your body with soft words of praise and love. She bunches it up in her hands and drapes it over your head, ruffling your hair as she dries it, drawing a small giggle from you.

Kissing your nose, Natasha stops her fluffy assault on your head and instead snags an over-sized t-shirt from the bed that smells distinctly vanilla, a clear indication it was her. Wanda emerges from the bathroom, hair damp and wearing a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt.

When you go to move over to her, she meets you halfway, wrapping her arms around you just like Natasha had, "Sleepy time, hm?"

You nod into her neck, yawning sleepily. Words are practically impossible to form right now, so you don't speak, instead letting Wanda guide you to the bed and under the sheets. Curling into her, you feel Natasha settle next to you, her arm draping over your waist.

Humming in contentment, Wanda's fingers begin to card through your hair softly, undoing the tangles and knots from the bath. Natasha's breathing grows heavy quickly and you feel your eyelids falling shut. As Wanda begins to hum a song softly, you let sleep claim you.

[tiredmamaissy]

Sung Jin-woo letting one of his shadows join? Only if it’s Igris. 

🔞mdni🔞

jinwoo x reader x igris

Warnings: nsfw, expletives, smut, threesome, would this be considered necrophilia? I sincerely hope not, anyways—oral, pnv, dom jin, just absolute filth, creampie—although questionable, throatpie, multiple forced orgasms, first persons pov, links attached for some visuals, i just wanna shoutout this tiktok

——

I can’t lie, whenever I watch Igris in action my heart thuds in my chest, hard. It’s just the way he carries himself that makes him seem…so human. But he’s a beast, and he became Jinwoo’s shadow by a split hair. 

It’s no secret that they’re both equally as powerful. 

Sometimes I let myself fantasize for a while. Let myself think that when he looks at me, he’s feeling the same way. That his heart is slamming into his ribs, just like mine—if he even has one. I can’t help but wonder, what’s under that mask? Or rather, 

Who’s under that mask? 

Jinwoo catapults across my field of vision, slamming into the wall of the training arena. Igris stalks towards him, sword at his side and cape flowing behind him. I watch his every move, his every strut. He glances over to me, staring down at me with a predatory gaze, checking on me. Well, that’s what I allow myself to believe, only for a second. I know where his loyalty lies. 

Regardless, my heart’s about to fly out of my fucking chest. 

Within seconds, Jinwoo regains his strength, getting back up to rejoin this… ‘spar’. His aggression is palpable, I can sense it from all the way over here in these four walls tucked behind this safety glass. Only Igris can bring out this side of him—it’s always a fair fight, after all. 

Well, almost. 

I always look away at this point. It always gets bad for Igris. But for some reason, I can’t today. I watch, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding before me. 

Jinwoo slams Igris into the ground, sending a rumble through the earth beneath me. The chair I’m seated in shakes, and I grip the table in front of me. Igris fades into black smoke under Jinwoo’s fist, and his glowing eyes snap up to meet mine, piercing into me with a threatening glare. 

Fuck. 

My core spasms. Suddenly I’m empty, and yearning for Jinwoo to make it better. He stands and walks through the residual mist that was once Igris, toward me. I swallow hard and reign in the ball of muscle trying to break through my ribcage.

His stare never falters, his eyes are anchored to me. I stand as I urge myself to hold it, to dominate it. But it’s too intimidating—he’s too intimidating. I look down, just for a brief second, showing my submission. And when I look back up…

He’s gone. 

I feel a gust of wind and Jinwoo’s voice growls my name behind me, his hot breath misting against my shoulder. I break out into a shiver, and I stumble back into him. He catches me, steadying me with his iron grip on my waist. 

“Jin—” 

“Igris has taken quite an interest in you.”

He cuts me short with a hint of aggression in his voice. My stomach drops. His fingers wander down my hips, to my thighs—under the hem of my skirt. He presses his lips against the shell of my ear. 

“I’m not quite sure if I like that.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” I whisper, obviously unnerved. I feel his hard bulge press into me, and my pussy floods with heat. 

“I'm his master.” Jinwoo speaks a little too calmly, subtly tugging my skirt up, little by little. “I know his thoughts, his feelings. He takes a particular liking to your—hah, well, everything.” He yanks my skirt the rest of the way up in one swift, harsh move. “I mean, I do know the feeling.” 

What is he even saying? That Igris…feels something for me? I can barely think, much less focus on the words he’s speaking. Not when he’s thumbing at my soaked panty. 

“I didn’t know he could feel anything. He’s a shadow.” I say, breathless. 

“Yes, he is. But he still has his own…urges. Instincts.” He whispers quietly as he tugs my panties down my hips, letting them drop to my ankles. 

“Desires.” 

“R-Right.” I gasp and hold my breath in anticipation and my body tenses. 

He’s going to bend me over this table and fuck me. 

I swear I feel a gush between my legs, and suddenly my face is flush against the wooden table and his feet are kicking apart mine. My panty stretches between my ankles and he snakes his fingers around my throat. 

“Igris.” He summons his best shadow in a thick, dark voice, and Igris fabricates from a black mist in front of me, as if he didn’t just disappear. “Isn’t that right?” 

I look up from the table, only to be met by a suit of armor and his piercing gaze spearing down through me. Shit. He can see me…like this. With my panties at my ankles, bent over a piece of furniture. 

How embarrassing. 

I feel Jinwoo fiddle single handedly with the buckle of his belt, and then the button on his pants. His other hand maintains its searing grip on my throat and jaw, forcing me to meet Igris’s quiet gaze. I struggle to breathe and my eyes threaten to leak. 

My heart is going to explode. 

“See? He didn’t even respond. He has total control over himself.” His voice lowers into a whisper next to my face and I hear his zipper. “He actually wants to fuck you.” 

What? He—what? My eyes bulge wider, if it’s even possible, and I feel his cock notch at my slick opening.

So what, he’s forcing him to watch us? To teach him some sick lesson? 

Jinwoo must sense my unease, and he loosens his grip on my jaw and my head slumps back down to the table. But I’m still staring into the void of Igris’s eyes. He remains unmoving, eerily still in his stance with his sword sheathed on his back. 

“Caalm.” He draws out the word, letting his fingers just barely skate along the length of my spine.

My back arches and I roll onto the tips of my toes to present my pussy to him. Pathetic. I almost hate how wet and ripe I am for him. He hasn’t even looked me in the eye yet. 

“We’re not doing anything you don’t want.” Jin-woo’s hand trails up to grip my throat once more, and he hunches over me until his lips are next to my ear again. 

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Jin-woo breaches me with exigency, in one hard thrust of his hips. I let out a whimper and try to stay on my toes as I frantically adjust to his thick cock inside me. 

“I see the way you look at him.” He growls as he presses a harsh kiss onto my jaw. 

He knows. And he’s teaching me a lesson, too. 

“I…I don’t.” I can’t find my voice to tell my lie, especially when I’m doing it now—staring at Igris while his master is inside me. 

Jin-woo lets out a low, wicked chuckle, and his hand tightens on my throat. Igris moves just a millimeter, as if he were about to let himself react to his master's slender fingers wrapped around my neck. 

But he holds himself firm, head ever so slightly tilted down as he takes in the sight beneath him. The sight of my quivering, glossy eyes peering up at him, and my flushed, swollen lips glistening with a layer of spit. 

“Careful, Igris.” Jinwoo warns his subordinate. “We’re not in the arena anymore. You might hurt her if you retaliate here.” He unleashes me from his grip, allowing me to take an unobstructed breath. 

“He’s not a fan of my hand around your throat.” Jin-woo whispers into my ear, and pulls out of me suddenly, leaving me empty and aching. 

“I won’t hurt her. She’s mine, remember?” Jinwoo speaks nonchalantly, as if he were stating a fact. Reassuring Igris, yet at the same time reminding him that I’m his. I can sense Igris tense—he feels like a ball of kinetic energy, ready to burst. 

Jinwoo’s cock prods at me again, and I ready myself for the impact of his thrust. I know it’s going to be brutal. He slams into me with a ruthless smack, making the table beneath me topple onto two legs. My fingers grip onto its corners as I bite my cheek to stifle the moan threatening to rip from my throat. 

“Mine to fuck.” Jin-woo growls, and there’s a possessive tone to his voice. He wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head back. Now I’m forced to stare directly at him. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

That damn question again. He wants me to say it to his face. To make it clear that he owns me and my pussy.

“Yes.” I just barely whisper and feel him ram into me again. “Fuck!” 

Igris takes a step toward me, his stare trained down on me. He’s so close to me now, and I’m eye level with his armored crotch. Blood rushes to my face and Jinwoo hisses behind me. 

“Soon.” Jinwoo snaps, using the grip he has on my hair to hold me firm as he immediately sets a relentless pace, fucking into me with a vengeance.

“Soon? W-what’s ha-ppening soon?” My voice bounces from his incessant thrusts, and I’m so fucking overwhelmed. 

“Igris wants his turn.” Jinwoo growls. 

His…turn?

My heart lunges out my chest, and I’m pushed closer towards the edge. The image of Igris actually fucking me is almost too much to handle. If he were to fuck me…oh god. I’m going to cum from just the thought. 

“Jinwoo, wait. I—” I moan softly as my legs tremble and my pussy grips his cock. Fuck, I’m going to come already. And Igris is going to watch it happen. “Please, s-slower—or, or, I’m going to—haah—gonna!” 

“Yeah? Already?” He huffs, letting his hips snap into me repeatedly, fucking me like he’s angry with me. “Just from the mere thought of my shadow fucking your needy little pussy?”

“N-No!” I deny the truth through a tiny, pathetic cry, fixating on the sight directly in front of me.

The armor guarding Igris’s most prized possession looks tight. 

“Show her your face.” Jin-woo orders quickly, huffing and puffing as he ruts into me. 

Igris obeys, taking off his helmet and letting it fall to the ground with a clank. I crane my neck to look up at him and I’m met with glowing red eyes.

Hungry, scarred, red eyes, staring down at me like he wants to wreck me.

His hair flows down past his shoulders, a stark white with silver highlights. Christ, he’s more gorgeous than I ever imagined. 

And I'm coming…to his face. 

“Fu-uck.” I whine shakily and watch Igris’s eyes widen and his angular jaw tense. 

“Oh fuck, she’s cumming on my cock, Igris.” Jinwoo grunts and fucks me through every spasm that ripples through me. I writhe and squirm underneath his grip and my eyes fill to the brim with hot tears. “Don’t you wanna feel that?” 

Igris’s gaze snaps to Jinwoo’s, and the answer to that question is written all over his beautiful face. 

“Shadow exchange.” Jinwoo growls under his breath. 

Within moments, Igris fades to black and before me stands the menace himself—the shadow monarch—huge cock in hand with his ominous, glowing eyes shooting freshly sharpened daggers into me. 

Then I feel it. A delicious stretch. My still throbbing cunt desperately tries to adjust to Igris’s fat cock. He’s inside me. He’s really fucking inside me. Fuck, it’s so thick and big that I could cry. I really might fucking cry. 

I let out a wobbly whimper and force myself to keep still, if I move I think I’ll split open. All I can do is peer up into the luminous eyes that look back down at me with contempt, as I beg him to do something. 

“Oh my god. J-Jin. Jinwoo.” I chitter through my teeth and my tears of disbelief finally stain my cheeks. “Jin-woo, he’s really i-inside me.”

“Impressive, mm?” He grunts, breathing heavily. He cups my chin, pads of his fingers sinking into my damp cheeks. He tsks, and a slight smirk tugs at his lips. “I want to be inside you too, darling.” 

Jinwoo drives his thumb and pointer finger into my jaw bone, forcing my mouth open. He gives himself a few sloppy strokes before swiping his swollen tip on my lips as if it were lipstick, coating them in my own cum. 

“Tongue.” He demands through a breathless groan, and my tongue instinctively darts out, tasting myself on him. 

I’m sweet. 

“That’s my good girl.” Jin-woo grins, his thumb rubbing my cheek tenderly like some sort of twisted praise.

His attention turns to his second in command, and he takes in the sight of him mounted to me. His cock twitches against my tongue, and my mouth reflexively closes around his mushroomy head. 

“Hnng—she’s incredible, isn’t she?” Jinwoo sounds so smug, and for the first time, I hear Igris grunt. “Fuck her good, Igris.” 

The force of his first thrust litters my vision with stars, and it pushes me further down onto Jinwoo’s cock all at once. Jinwoo takes an intentional breath to stifle a groan and begins balling my hair into his fist. 

My clit definitely has its own fucking heartbeat. 

Igris begins thrusting in and out of me like a starved man, shoving himself as deep as my tiny body will allow him. His movements are incessant, laced with desperation. Like he’s been waiting—wanting to do this for a long, long time. He’s fucking into me like he’s never fucked a pussy in his life and the thought of that likely being the truth is making this even hotter. 

“Shit, I don’t even need to fuck your throat.” Jinwoo huffs with a smile and stands still, proving his point. “He’s fucking you so hard that your throat is riding my cock.”

Tears stream down my face and my head feels like it’s full of cotton. Am I even breathing? I test it out and hear a gurgling noise that I can only assume came from  me. Jinwoo pulls out of me, holding my head in the air and I hear myself heave a loud breath. 

“Don’t pass out on us, sweetheart.” Jinwoo’s dark voice echoes and I feel him tap my cheek a few times with his cock. “Come on, you can take us both. Right?”

He slowly sinks his cock down my throat again, inch by inch. I gag and my eyes water, because while he’s doing that, Igris is ramming him into the back of my throat repeatedly. 

It’s all too much. 

I shake my head and tap Jin’s thigh, and he yanks out of me and I gasp for air. He strokes himself fast, with his hips thrusted into the air and his core flexed. He groans low and long, watching me. Watching us.

“Make her cum.” He speaks quickly, stroking himself harder. Igris pounds into me at a frightening rate and I feel the coil in my core suddenly snap. I let out a filthy moan, loud and languid, from the back of my fucked out throat. “She’s gonna come, Igris.” 

I am. I fucking am. 

“I’m—I’m cummi—”

Jinwoo stuffs his cock back down my throat with an urgency, hunching over me and fucking my throat like it’s a pussy. His hand snakes down my belly, and his finger barely swipes my pulsing clit. His ghost touch sends me over the edge and I cum so. fucking. hard. My pussy throbs so bad that Igris groans like a dying man and ruts me harder. 

“Oh fuck, baby. Yes.” Jinwoo moans, giving me one brutal thrust before emptying himself down my throat.

He grunts from the bottom of his stomach and he holds me for what feels like an eternity on his pulsating cock before tugging me off of him. I cough and sputter, swallowing between sorry attempts at taking a breath. 

“Granted.” Jinwoo catches his own breath, and I can’t even speak to ask him what he’s allowing Igris to do to me now. He leans down, caressing my face and brushing my sweaty hair away from my pleading eyes. He plants a tender kiss on my ear and as he pulls away he whispers to me.

“Igris wants permission to breed you. That’s okay, right darling?”

Jin-woo takes a step back and I call for him with my hoarse voice. But he only grins and uses his stealth to fade into thin air, seemingly leaving me alone with the knight commander Igris—the blood red. I feel his metal arm wrap over my chest and his hand grip my shoulder to gain purchase. 

“I-Igris.” I nervously and directly acknowledge him for the first time in this entire interaction. “Ple-ase…” 

He growls and pulls me off the table and into his hard exterior. My toes cramp from trying to stay on my feet but he’s way too big and I feel myself lifting off the ground. He wraps his other hand around my waist and supports me with ease, fucking me mid-air. I claw at his armour and my legs kick and cross but I’m trapped in his undying grasp. 

“Holy shit…Igris!” I cry out, frantic. “Hold on!”  

Igris’s rhythm goes sloppy, and he’s trying to force as much of himself inside me as he possibly can. He’s trying to kill me, not breed me. A high pitched squeal splits my quivering lips and I kick a little harder—entirely too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

“T-Too deep! You’re too deep!” My tears stream down my cheeks yet my pummeled pussy weeps for more. 

“You’re okay, my princess.” Igris’s deep voice hurls me into my third orgasm and I go limp in his grip, completely dissolving into the pleasure of his cock filling every possible part of me.

He cums with a gruff shout, tightening his arms around me as he stays inside me, stuffing me with cum until I’m queasy. 

My vision splits and fades to black and his grip on me fades with it. I hear a hushed sound and feel myself falling. I’m about to slam into the floor. I brace for impact in my fizzled brain yet I don’t feel the hard, cold tile. Rather, a warmth envelopes me, cradling me as I blubber and fail to set any breathing pattern, much less a steady one.

“Shh-shh. Breathe. You did so well, baby.” It’s Jinwoo’s voice, cooing at me, and he holds me close to his warm chest. “You were such a good girl for us.”