#it’s just their dynamic of course none of them has spoke about it… YET | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairybinie · 2 years ago

Text

COPYCCINO — 60: relief

synopsis: soobin has been talking to who he thought was his unrequited crush on messages, only to find out through a visit to their coffee shop that it was in fact not them. not only does he meet the real y/n, he runs into their friend yeonjun, an ex friend of his who he has some unresolved issues with. as soobin and the real y/n are getting to know each other, yeonjun and soobin are working through their misunderstandings, as well as trying to figure out who the catfish was.

taglist (closed): @iyeonjuni @odxrilove @ifwtyun @iuwon @ijhyo @cherr-y-eji @peachy-yabbay @ameliesaysshoo @sunlightwoo @enhacolor @tyungun @multi4lifer @milkycloudtyg @bluhr @strawberri-uyu @fluffdiaree @misscalcutta @butterflx @cherrybeomgyu @skinnygowon @ilove-jake @feyregels @blahbluhblahbluh @hyukalight @wccycc @mnlylonely @seventeeneration @hyukabean @boba-beom @2ynjns @soobmint @tae-ology @voidbeomgyu @hyuntaena @luvnhwa @calumsfringe @7thgyu @ashxxkook @soobsfairy444 @sansluvr @flrtsbin @bibinnieposts @dandelionxgal @whoislouu @ahalya25 @cha0thicpisces @laylasbunbunny @robinsluva @luvsoobs @kooktattoos @binsoomi @noholywater

prev / masterlist / next

a/n: written (5.7k). profanity, mentions of threats, just crazy behavior, the moment has come 🫢

...

after coming up with a plan, it didn’t take long for the group of friends to act upon it. they needed this to be done and over with, for good.

the night ended with the plan of confronting min being carefully construed, sieun explaining everything to beomgyu like she had promised, and a script that kai had to follow. luckily for them, he still had min’s number considering he hadn’t cut her off yet. the group instructed kai on what to say to min and since this was kai of all people, he needed to be careful in order for this to work.

y/n couldn’t sleep. every piece of this puzzle kept playing in their head, each scenario becoming more unbelievable. it was at two in the morning when they received a facetime call from yeonjun in hopes that they were still awake. soobin joined in on the call not too long after. guess none of them were able to close their eyes.

the urgency of the situation left no time to worry about dynamics as the trio were on one call together. after all, everything had been resolved. each spoke about their own feelings, what they're most worried about. some other forgotten details were even brought up. yeonjun remembered how min reached out to him too, leaving cryptic messages about y/n and soobin’s relationship before everything else happened. it was revealed that min had been following them around, meaning she had to have gone to the same school as them. the picture that she sent yeonjun, her insinuating that she had even more. this was enough for y/n to question if they had all their doors locked. soobin mentioned how min tried to reach out to him too, of course under her yun persona.

each had their own realizations, though they were not easy to swallow. soobin had been gaslighted, manipulated, any other synonym throughout his run with min, or yun as he knew at the time. even when she was trying to ‘win’ him back she still found a way to turn everything on him. yeonjun realized that he shouldn’t be hung up on the fact that he was dumped for someone else, especially if this is the person in question. the same person who’s sending threats to his best friend, even attempting to use kai just like all her other victims. she’s clearly not in her right mind and her obsession has led her to do things that have been taken too far.

y/n is still questioning if min knows them. according to her sister, and even min herself, she doesn’t. but what are the chances that min used their photos? this can’t be some random occurrence. they had to cross paths at some point, there has to be a story.

and they were determined to find out.

kai sent his message to min the next day, asking if she’d like to hang out with him at the park. soon enough, she agreed, so long as it’s just him. in panic that he’d mess up this whole thing, considering the boy cannot lie for his life, taehyun took over his phone to send the rest of the messages. the date has been reserved, or so she thinks.

the sky’s color begins to fade from an orange hue to a darker crimson, and it’s apparent that the sun would begin to set soon. kai (taehyun) told min to meet him at their local park at 6:30. little does she know, he’s actually inside their car in the parking lot.

y/n, soobin, and yeonjun stand around near the trees, all of their guards being up. y/n looks around antsy to see any sign of min coming, despite having the others on the phone. yeonjun holds his phone on speaker as the others wait in the car, giving the trio updates any chance they get.

“beomgyu, i didn't know you drive.”

“this isn’t his car.”

“desperate times call for desperate measures, sieun.”

“does the security guard even know that you-”

“i’ll have you know steve and i are besties.”

“escorting you to class while you lurk isn't exactly what besties are.”

“i have a few words for you, taehyun.”

“and what is that?”

“suck my-”

“still nothing, hyuka?” y/n interrupts the conversation over the phone impatiently, gripping on yeonjun’s phone slightly. either they thought they were on mute, or the group genuinely forgot that they were still on the phone.

the sound begins to get muffled, assuming that the phone is being passed around in the car.

“the last thing she texted me was that she was leaving her house,” kai confirms clearly.

min had told kai that she would text him when she arrived at the park. it’s been fifteen minutes since her last update.

y/n lets go of the phone and takes a few steps forward, the cold air hitting their shoulders. they feel the goosebumps form as their teeth silently chatter, wrapping their hands around their arms for some kind of warmth. they forgot that it can get seriously chilly at night here. they also forgot their sweater.

yeonjun and soobin take notice of this and both have the instinct to take off their sweaters, their hands starting to reach from the bottom. the boys glance at each other and realize that they’re doing the same thing, a bit awkward with their movements. yeonjun looks over at y/n and lets go of his sweater before looking back at soobin. he gestures his head towards y/n while giving soobin an assuring smile. soobin sees what he's doing and appreciates him for it, hoping that yeonjun can see his gratitude. soobin proceeds to take off his sweater and walk over to y/n.

yeonjun can see y/n’s cheeks become fuller, knowing that they’re smiling from his perspective. y/n puts on soobin’s sweater while soobin places his hands on their shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze before he lets go. yeonjun can’t help but have a grin on his face and it’s at this moment he realizes.

they’ll be in good hands.

the trio hears a voice over the phone which brings y/n and soobin to head back to yeonjun.

“she’s here,” kai tries to state firmly, but there’s a quiver to his voice that insinuates he’s still nervous. he wants to be there, but the plan was that they would all stay in the car while the trio handles this on their own.

yeonjun hangs up as soon as they hear those words. they each remain in their place for a moment as they give each other one last look for good luck, before things go down. y/n reaches out with their hands and the boys hold onto theirs. yeonjun and soobin glance at each other and intertwine their hands together too. the three of them give each other a tight hand squeeze before they let go. yeonjun and soobin head over to different sides of the park, vanishing into thin air and y/n is left alone.

this, of course, was all part of the plan. y/n is eternally grateful that soobin lent them his sweater because they use this as an opportunity to bring the hoodie up to cover their head. thanks to soobin’s figure it manages to cover their head entirely. y/n walks over to the nearest table and sits on the bench, bringing their arms to fold in front of them. their darker hair blends in with the color of the sweater, enough to fool anyone from far away.

as y/n awaits for min to approach them, they can’t help but start to feel their stomach shrink in size. they’ve heard too much about this person and now they're going to meet her. many thoughts rush in their mind, some light and some of which are deeper. what does this person look like? what does she sound like? can they see why yeonjun dated her? is she prettier than them? soobin’s met her before too, does he think she’s prettier than them?

those thoughts are just silly. the thing they want to know the most is why. why try to ruin their life? why would she treat yeonjun like that? why is she so obsessed with soobin? is she actually insane? she did follow them to new york. she got her sister a job at brew hour to spy on them and report their conversations, thanks to chae’s confession. she’s followed soobin and y/n on their dates. now she’s trying to use kai to get to soobin, yet again.

what's her deal?

y/n starts to hear the leaves rustle from the distance, each of them crunching with every movement. she’s near.

min walks up to the bench and stands right in front of y/n, only being able to see their side profile. y/n does their best to avoid eye contact.

“hey, kai.” her voice breaks the silence. it’s a bit higher pitched and somehow sounds expensive. she rolls out her words and it’s apparent to y/n that min has a naturally flirty voice. it’s still calm, but it must get her what she wants most of the time.

if her voice sounds pretty, they can’t imagine what she looks like.

“sorry i’m a bit late, there was some traffic,” the girl apologizes. if y/n was mistaken, she sounds like a nice person. too bad they know everything.

y/n knows that they can’t stay silent forever. frankly, them having this dark sweater on already looks suspicious on its own. they take a deep inaudible breath and whip the hoodie off, the back of their head feeling the cold wind brush against it. y/n makes eye contact with the girl in front of them and min takes a few steps back, feeling herself gasp.

“what the hell?”

the girl stutters out a few words, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tries to make sense of the situation. she furrows her eyebrows together once she realizes that this is very much real. she’s face to face with y/n.

“what is this, some kind of sick joke?” min barely manages to ask, still flustered. y/n gets up from the bench and stands a few inches away from min, crossing their arms together.

“i could ask you the same thing, with what you've been doing lately.”

y/n comes across more cooly, which was definitely not what they were intending. they’re scared shitless inside. at least it doesn’t come across that way, because they can see min swallow some air. she sees that y/n knows everything.

it’s at this point where y/n can look at min more clearly. just as they feared, she is beautiful. it looks like she’s wearing more expensive clothing, fitting her body just right. her long black hair sits perfectly on her shoulders, her fringe shaping her face even more. they can see that she’s wearing makeup, not too bold but pretty enough where you could probably find this look on pinterest. y/n almost feels bad that they thought she’d look a mess, considering her behavior.

though, pretty people can do ugly things.

the girl looks at both of her sides and starts to walk backwards, trying to find a way out of here.

“i don’t think you should leave,” y/n nearly calls out. min hasn’t backed away too much. “you knew this was coming.”

in all honesty, y/n thought that wouldn’t do anything. this girl is perfectly capable of just running away. still, they can see that they at least hit some part of her. she remains in her place, doesn’t mean she’s gonna be nice.

“so kai told you, big deal,” she comes across quite defensive. “what, are you going to give me a heartfelt lecture coming straight out of barney?”

y/n can't help but let out a crisp laugh as they lick their mouth with their tongue. “you shouldn’t talk to me in that way considering you're stupid enough to give kai your actual name knowing damn well we’re friends with yeonjun.”

the words flow out of their mouth with a strong tone and min bites her tongue. she sneers at y/n before she thinks of her next comeback.

“so you’re friends now?” she asks, almost tauntingly. she tilts her head to the side as a smirk forms on her glossed lips. y/n cannot show that she’s getting to them.

“yeah,” they take a few steps forward. “maybe you were hoping otherwise but guess that didn’t work out for you.”

min scoffs as she shrugs her shoulders without a care in the world. “what do you want?”

y/n can feel the rage start to fire inside them after hearing the question. this girl dares to ask what they want? she either has no clue or she has no remorse. they still wouldn’t be surprised anyways.

“what the fuck is your deal?” y/n emphasizes. “you use my pictures to catfish someone you apparently care about and now you’re sending me threats online and at my own damn work to try to get to me?”

“i don’t think i have to try to get to you,” min takes a moment to admire her nails briskly before a cold smile appears on her face. “i know i did.”

the two stare at each other as y/n tries to contain the tears from showing. they’re already quite a sensitive person, but they certainly don’t need min of all people being the reason for it.

“do you even care about your own actions?” y/n feels the need to ask. “did you care when you broke up with yeonjun?”

min lets out a dry laugh and shakes her head amusingly. “i don’t think yeonjun even cared that i broke up with him. he was too focused on the fact that i dumped him for soobin to consider that maybe it was because of him.”

“you shouldn’t speak on me so confidently.”

a familiar voice comes out from the darkness and yeonjun makes his way to stand right next to y/n. he hides his tongue behind his teeth as he drags his feet to walk cooly, crossing his arms once he’s in place. min doesn’t appear to be thrown off, her expression appears that she isn’t surprised that he's here. she thinks she knows him so well. her eyebrows are raised facetiously as a spark appears in her eyes.

“i know it wasn’t because of me. i treated you the best i could and loved you with my whole being. you broke up with me for my best friend. it was you who didn’t treat me well.”

yeonjun harshly stares into min’s eyes and she does her best to appear unfazed. she can only deflect with attitude.

“and where’s that best friend now, i wonder?” min holds her index finger to her chin as she tilts her head to the side, eyes looking up at the sky. she slowly releases her gesture as she shows a sly smile. “i think you should focus on the fact that you cannot explain your feelings for the life of you and you feel like you can’t talk to anyone about it.”

“he has,” y/n defends their friend sternly. “and we’re doing our best to fix it.”

“fixing something that was already broken?”

“no, friends talk to each other when they’re in need and listen to their concerns. then it’s up to them to work through it and improve themselves for the future. maybe you wouldn’t know that though.”

the last few words leave a sour taste in min’s mouth and she can't help but nod pettily.

“yeah, well, you hurt soobin more than i ever did,” min remarks, looking both at yeonjun and y/n’s eyes. she feels satisfied with her response until she hears a faint voice in the distance, and that’s when she feels a needle drop on her heart.

“you really need to stop speaking on people.”

min is surprised to see soobin come out and stand on y/n’s other side. the trio watches her stumble in her footsteps as she tries to regain her composure. y/n can see that she holds this persona with everyone else but when it comes to soobin, she cracks.

“soobin,” she says breathlessly. she ignores the other two as the smile stays on her face, her attention only on him.

“i need you to cut this attitude out, you’re caught,” soobin states like he’s had it up until this point already. “we want answers. starting with why you felt the need to catfish me.”

it’s with those words that min’s life flashes before her eyes. she knew that soobin found out she was lying. what she didn't know was that he found out that it was her.

she still tries to look presentable and forces the smile to stay, even adding a nonsensical laugh. she fumbles out a few words but can’t come up with a way to fake this. she ultimately becomes sorrowful.

“i didn’t mean to deceive you, soobin,” she tries to be as honest as she can.

she might think that she can win soobin over, just like she did those other times when she came up with excuses not to meet him, but it’s gone too far now. he's not buying anything and he’s certainly not looking for a redemption arc.

“yeah, well that’s exactly what you did,” soobin speaks the truth. he glances at y/n and yeonjun and remembers the goal here. he’s not just here for himself, but for them too. “answer our questions.”

“do you know me?” y/n doesn’t hesitate to ask right after. they don't break eye contact with min. now that she’s thrown off, maybe she can finally give them what they want.

“what-no,” she brushes off, clearly intimidated now that soobin is here.

“then why did you feel the need to use my pictures?” y/n pushes even further.

min keeps the contact for a split second before giving soobin a pleading look, hoping she can fix this at least. “soobin, please, i didn’t mean-”

“you don’t mean to do a lot of things do you!?” soobin cuts her off, not wanting to hear her lies any longer. “you don’t mean to lie to me and then try to gaslight me when i cut you off, not to mention somehow blame me for it.”

“you don’t mean to make this worse by following these two around and try to convince me to unfriend them for it, not to mention use my personal problems against me.” yeonjun continues.

“or use my photos and then decide to send me threats because it’s not working out for you. follow us to new york and talk to kai to get to soobin. oh! and get your sister a job at my workplace to spy on us even more.” y/n finishes off.

min chokes on her own saliva hearing the last sentence. “how did you know that?”

“i told them everything.”

min hears a voice behind her and slowly turns around, meeting with her own sister. her confusion is replaced with pure rage. she bites her lip as she squints with anger. “you little-”

“snitch?” chae nonchalantly continues. at this point, she's not surprised with anything min does. chae starts to walk forward, past her sister to join the trio in front of her.

the plan has been thoroughly executed.

“you wanna know why i told them everything? i was tired of being a pawn to your game. you convinced me that these people did something to personally hurt you. you got me a job there so i can report back to you and i fell for it. it’s too bad it didn’t take me long to figure out that you’re hurting them.”

chae pauses for a moment to let those words sink in. she has min’s full attention.

“when i found out you were going as far as to send threats to them, i couldn’t take it anymore. i feel bad that i was apart of this. you can take it as me betraying you, but you betrayed me first.”

min shuffles in their place as she forms fists with her hands. she closes her lips together and keeps her eye contact very minimal. she might've been tough with just them three, but now that her sister is here, it’s personal.

“i love you min, but do you really want to drive me away like you did with mom?” chae tries to reach out. min becomes defensive when she hears her mom being mentioned, a book she’s closed long ago.

chae walks forward and holds her sister’s hand, looking deep into her eyes. “you owe them the explanation they deserve. no excuses.”

the girl stands next to her sister and the ball is completely in min’s court. she starts to get fidgety as she looks at each person in front of her. she ultimately gives in.

“i don’t know you,” min begins in a rush. y/n fixes their position more straight when they realize this is directed at them. “i saw yeonjun’s twitter get recommended to me one day and you were there too. at that point soobin asked if i could send him pictures, so i just used yours.”

“why?” y/n asks a little more softly. “you’re a beautiful girl, i don’t know why you feel the need to-”

“oh shut up,” min interrupts with frustration. “he’s already rejected me once, you think he was going to accept me this time?”

“so you were planning on catfishing me anyways?” soobin states what he’s gathered from this.

“well-yeah, you- you were the one who couldn’t get your shit together to confess back-”

“do you see what i mean?” soobin can’t help but choke out a laugh. “you say you love me but you only try to pin everything on me and make me feel bad.”

“you do that with a lot of people,” yeonjun speaks up quietly, looking at min with droopy eyes as he relates to his own experience.

min glances at chae, who gives a soft shrug in return. the expression on min’s face insinuates that she doesn’t even know she does it. no one’s ever called her out for it.

“you followed us to new york, why?” y/n turns the conversation back around. “you reached out to us with your threats, why? you tried to trick kai, w-”

“i don’t know!” min exclaims, feeling the pressure on her starting to kick in.

“you do know why,” chae almost whispers, looking at her with slight disappointment.

a sob escapes from min’s mouth as her voice begins to tremble as she speaks.

“you wanna know my story?” min rocks on her feet as she swallows a tear. nobody interrupts, so she goes on to continue talking.

“i grew up with the agenda that i always needed to be perfect. whether it’d be that i needed to get picked for things or whatever, it always needed to be me. yeah, i drove my mother away for it. who cares? i met yeonjun and yeah, i did like you for a while. you're right, you did treat me well. but then i met soobin. he is the kind of guy i always wanted to be with. he's perfect, and so am i. we would’ve been perfect together. so when he rejected me, yeah i got pissed off. he couldn’t see what i saw for us, and that was a great future. i used y/n’s pictures to talk to soobin and got pissed off that he met you, let alone started liking you. i couldn’t handle that fact so i got my sister a job at brew hour to spy on you and see how i could ruin it. i followed you around, i sent you threats, i started talking to your friend. hell, i was even hoping for the downfall of your friendship if that meant i could get my soobin back.”

min mutters something under her breath that could still be transcribed. “all that work to end up here.”

everyone falls silent at min’s confession. does it give context as to why she did what she did? sure, but it certainly doesn’t make up for it. she was waiting for friendships to fall apart, mental breakdowns even. as much as she would like to think so, she never had good intentions. at the end of the day, she cares about herself and only what she wants. makes sense as to why she never considers other’s feelings or she would’ve left soobin alone a long time ago.

the trio share some cautious looks with one another and y/n’s eyes can’t help but to fall on chae. they can tell she’s not even forgiving of her own sister. they wonder how it'll be for them back home.

yeonjun starts to speak before he’s cut off by soobin, who gives him a confident stare in hopes to speak instead. all of this technically happened because of him. he’s the one being obsessed with and now it’s causing problems in their personal lives.

he has to put a stop to this.

all eyes are on soobin and he feels the pressure start to kick in as his heart skips a few beats. he’s never been a confrontational person. he’s dreaded it the last few times recently, feeling frustrated with himself that he usually ends up crying and can’t get his emotions across. soobin has never been the person to speak his mind and it’s led people to walk all over him. he’s been through it in school, and now in the real world. though the last time he shared his feelings, it ended well. he and yeonjun made up and are now working their way to become friends again.

if he does it right this time, maybe he can say goodbye to this girl forever.

“i think you should know one thing about me min,” soobin starts off slow. “i’m not perfect.”

now that he’s reeled her in, soobin continues to speak his truth once more.

“i’m far from perfect. i’m someone who let people taunt me in school because i was too scared to stand up for myself, so much so that i had to let my friend do it. i’m someone who tries to see the good in everyone even if there’s no saving that person. i’m someone who can’t speak my mind for the life of me and when i do, i erupt easily. i’ve yelled at a lot of people in my life, some of whom don’t deserve it. i wasn’t appreciative when my friends tried to help me out through a dark time.”

soobin takes a deeper breath as he lets his words flow out smoothly. yeonjun and y/n can relate to his words and are spiritually patting him on the back. they can’t help but to look at him with fond eyes.

“you need to get that idea of me out of your head. i’ve been nice, i’ve been forgiving, but i fear the more i do that, the less you'll understand.”

the boy takes a step forward and gazes at min with seriousness written all over his face. she’s fearful of what he’ll say next.

“i don’t like you, and i never will. no matter what you do i’ll never grow feelings for you. it seems that you’ve misinterpreted my actions as anything more, but i was simply just being nice to you. it seems like you wanted to catfish me to get that boyfriend experience out of me but look where it’s gotten us. i barely respect you as a person now. i hope this is getting through your head but please let me go. this is a crush you’ve had on me for several years and it’s clearly not going to work out. i don’t know how much more rejection you need but this is all i can think of. i don’t like you. understand that, and let me go.”

soobin finishes off on a strong note and is pleased with himself for once. the confidence in his voice is something he never thought he'd hear. no tears were shed this time. he backs away to his original spot and waits for any response from min, but she looks emotionless. she's still in her place, even chae has to look at her to make sure she’s still breathing.

“i think you need to reflect on your actions and try to not be so self centered,” yeonjun says. he’s been on the more quiet side throughout this, but he’s already had his history with min. there’s nothing to bandage up between them. he’s ready to move on and so should she. his minimal words should be enough. “stop focusing on who you want in your life and start appreciating who you do have in your life.” yeonjun emphasizes his gaze onto chae, who gives him a small smile.

“realize how your actions can affect other people,” y/n continues off of what yeonjun was saying. the two share a nice glance as their friendship comes to mind. y/n turns back to min. “just please leave us alone. i don’t think you’ll want seven restraining orders on your personal record.”

min stares back and appears to be numb for a split second, until it’s replaced with denial. her voice comes across cold.

“so you’re just going to forget about how each of you stabbed each other in the back?” she adds in a little point as the words spew off her tongue.

“those were misunderstandings caused by you,” y/n responds fully fledged. “if we could move on so should you. on your own.”

min spits out a forced laugh, not accepting all this. “it won’t be long til each of you are on your own and are all alone.”

“they’ll never be alone.”

the girl turns around and sees beomgyu, sieun, taehyun and kai standing right there. they each have pleased looks on their faces. they're all satisfied with their friendship. they won’t be going anywhere.

min glances at kai and gives him a stare that’s equivalent to several curse words. normally he’d feel bad, as he does want everyone to like him. this is min of all people, it’s not worth it. she can go.

she looks back to face the trio. she notices soobin and y/n holding hands while y/n and yeonjun lock pinkies together. her gaze is set on the image as all this history runs in her head, mixed with her fantasies. with a flip through her hair she says her last words.

“you're not worth it,” she spits her words at soobin. “be happy together, you freaks.”

it’s with that when min storms the scene off, bumping shoulders with kai on her way out. the new group joins in with the trio as they all watch the girl walk off to never be seen again.

“we will,” yeonjun says more to himself, looking at his friends.

chae steps forward, first looking at her sister running off, then looking back at the group behind her. she looks conflicted, but then meets eyes with y/n, who can only give her a friendly smile. chae has done what she needed to do for the group. it’s her time to be there for her sister. pretty soon, she leaves the scene as well.

the group of friends form a half circle after the sisters have left. the sun has completely set by now and the bright stars can be seen in the sky as the crickets chirp away in the grass. they all give each other an expecting look.

“i want to ask what happened,” beomgyu starts off in amusement but then becomes delighted. “but i think we know.”

“that must’ve been so crazy,” sieun comments with a tired sigh.

“it was definitely something,” is all y/n can say as they stare ahead in thought.

yeonjun glances over at soobin and puts an arm around his shoulder with a grin on his face. “i will say, i’m proud of you soobin for telling her off like that. i’ve never seen that side of you before.”

everyone can be heard sharing some agreeing responses as soobin earns a couple high fives and side hugs. though, his attention can only remain on yeonjun.

“thank you, yeonjun.”

“i’m proud of you all,” taehyun compliments the trio, his tone is reminiscent of a proud father. this earns a couple chuckles out of everyone.

“did she even apologize for everything?” kai asks in disbelief.

“nope,” y/n replies, not surprised by min. “doesn’t matter. i think we got through with her.”

“so we won’t be hearing of her anymore, right?” beomgyu confirms, still a bit unease.

“definitely not,” soobin answers with confidence. he likes feeling this way.

“pretty sure she got the message,” yeonjun says with a small laugh.

the group takes a moment to let this all sink in. there’s a mix of emotions, but one common one they share is relief. they can now move forward with their lives.

they can now make the most of being friends with each other.

“should we go get dinner in our new car,” beomgyu offers as he begins to walk backwards, his hands out in offer as he rubs them together.

“new stolen car, i should add,” sieun comments with a roll of her eyes.

“i’m telling you, steve let me use his car!”

“okay, but can i pick the restaurant this time?” kai whines as they head to the car in question.

they all manage to fit inside the vehicle, a bit snug but nonetheless comfortable. taehyun takes the steering wheel as beomgyu calls shotgun, sieun, kai, and yeonjun taking the middle row. soobin and y/n take the last row together.

seatbelts are being put on as some of them choose where to go, deciding to go with kai’s suggestion for the night. yeonjun looks back behind his seat and catches a glimpse of y/n and soobin, making eye contact with the couple. they each share a smile as he turns back in his seat, ready to go to their next destination.

y/n scoots closer to soobin and reaches for his hand as they intertwine their fingers with his. soobin welcomes their contact as he gives them room to be comfortable. y/n rests their head on his shoulder and closes their eyes shut, to which soobin returns the gesture. as the car drives off into the highway they recall what happened tonight. they both smile as the feeling comes over them again.

relief.

...

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

176 notes · View notes

gaeilmeta · 2 months ago

Text

Whoa

As the early months bustled along, it was only to be expected that a few of Cinderella’s proverbial other slippers might drop and one by one they did. These revelations gave an answer to the baffling question as to why her trove of exceptional endowments had yet to flourish and convey her beyond the confines of a dinky town. They also spoke to the resonating statement, ”....somebody like me” heard on the evening of our genesis.

The first slipper hit the floor pretty hard. As a young girl, she had fallen victim to pedophilia. Fred and Marcia who lived two streets over were Mom and Dad’s best pals and so when her parents went away she was often entrusted to the care of their great friends. Unknown to her parents, godfather Fred used those absences to groom and molest the petite miss left in his keeping.

come here little darling let’s brush back your hair

goodness what is it that makes you so sweet

has me act like a bee to the nectar I swear

you know, that box full of candy you can’t help but to eat

maybe some tickles will show me exactly what’s where

by your sides, at your belly, on the bottoms of your feet

none of those, then I think it must be hiding down there

I’ll have to dig around for a while under your seat

pull off those panties, get your bottom all bare

and feel in both ends so the search is complete

now that you let me you should be ashamed

no good girl would tease me to do all them things

sure as shootin’ it’s you who’ll be blamed

they’ll say you’re one of those angels without any wings

your parents won’t love you, might even send you away

don’t forget too I’m your Dad’s boss down at the mill

he has to listen to me and do whatever I say

I can fire him from his job and I promise I will

don’t worry though I won’t tell a soul about our little play

secrets are safe when tongues are kept still

You might well imagine how hard it was for Mom when her little girl one day disclosed that Uncle Fred was in fact a perp. Fred and Marcia had been such close and trusted friends, making the enormity of the shock just too unbelievable. More than that, Mom didn’t really want to accept it as possible for her to have failed to protect her daughter. Mom’s initial stupor, unfortunately, left her psychologically injured daughter feeling not only doubted but also at fault for maybe having done something wrong without even knowing what it was that she did. This led to a huge and confused sense of guilt and even regret for having disclosed the foul matter at all. Worse, these malignancies were magnified several times over by the explosive violence and chaos that erupted when Dad was apprised. Needless to say, Mom, Dad and the victim were each branded with traumas that festered within and negatively impacted their family dynamics for years to come.

Next up, we arrive at the adolescent age of fourteen. Being a lowly high school ninth grader, she thought it especially “cool” that several junior and senior boys were interested in her and allowed her to be included in their social circle. The circumstance afforded her an unusual status, making her the envy of her girlfriends and granting her access to the automobiles and alcohol-fueled parties of the older crowd.

One afternoon while walking the roadside home, three of the older boys with whom she had partied pulled up in a shiny new Chevy Super Sport. They invited her to go cruising. Flattered, she accepted. Once in the car, she was immediately handed a bottle of beer and the tour began. After a while, it was observed that riding around with open bottles of beer was of course risky, so it was decided they’d drive to a relatively secluded spot along the railroad tracks that traversed the outskirts of town. There the car was parked and for no particular reason, the quartet began aimlessly walking the tracks with one remaining six-pack in hand. No doubt you’ve already guessed, it was in the woods just off the tracks where she was raped by all three of the boys. When recounting the event she tearfully heaved, “I stupidly thought they were my friends.” As is common among rape victims, she did not divulge the rape to anyone and only first told her mother years later.

Already bearing several severe scars in her still very early life, she naturally found it troubling to continue attending the high school where she couldn’t help but continually encounter the boys who had violated her. None of them were able to look her in the eye and avoided her as much as she did them. Still, that didn’t offer much solace. Floundering academically and at frequent odds with her parents, each being tormented by their individual wounds of heart and mind, she dropped out of school at the very tender age of sixteen, left home and incredibly set out to make her own way. Even with all of her gifts, it was a rough go and before very long she was gradually sinking, a waif amidst forces. She was sheltered only by the good graces of her girlfriend’s parents who allowed her to alternately hop from home to home. During this period she found a job at a pizza joint. It was there that she entered into a relationship which proved to be a grievous error.

At twenty-three Travis Penderson was a budding con man eminently on a path to nowhere. With the greatest of ease, he could fabricate intricate illusions and weave elaborate webs of lies out of the slick silk that slithered freely from his mouth. So consumed by the carbonated schemes he had bubbling in his head, he even convinced himself he would one day birth a surefire plot leading to fame and riches. While deludedly developing this grand plan, Travis in reality survived by smuggling and distributing illicit drugs. He surrounded himself with a squad of wannabe bikies who functioned as mules for authentic hard-core Canadian motorcycle gangs. Travis and his rag-tag cohorts shouldered all of the border crossing perils for chump change while the gangs up north kept the lion’s share of the profits. The crew typified what Randy Newman’s Fat Man would peg as little criminals.

Despite his defects, Travis recognized that the pretty, vivacious girl who took his pizza orders had the uncommon intelligence, talents, and moxie to be going somewhere he never could and figured he might be able to turn that to his advantage. He was also able to sense the vulnerability of her innocence, her dire predicament and her desperation to break out. Consequently, he pounced at the chance to seize the dangling dolly for his very own. She of course knew he was way full of it, but he did have the mystique of an outlaw, had money, soothing drugs and the kind of lies that she needed to hear. Filtered through the eyes of a pressure-cooking sixteen-year-old with meager means and fewer prospects, she regrettably regarded Harley hog riding Travis as a hand of rescue she had little option other than to accept. Thus ensued an oddly symbiotic, more often parasitic, on-and-off textbook relationship of domination, soul-sucking manipulation, psychological abuse and domestic violence that spanned more than four years.

During the year prior to my strolling onto the stage, she had to her astounding and individual credit almost completely cleansed herself of Travis Penderson. She renegotiated the apartment lease shared with Travis into her name alone and pro se obtained a restraining order against him. With those, she cast Travis out, for the most part ridding herself of the leech save his lame and eventually dwindling attempts to ingratiate himself. Over the previous summer, she had also finished an entire high school equivalency program, begun her part-time modeling and secured a full-time position with the human service agency where we met. Shortly after we started canoodling I moved in with her. My place was more than a half-hour ride away while hers was only a few minutes from the community residence we managed. It was a logistical, financial and personal consolidation that benefited both of us.

Of course, our cohabitation resulted in my coming to know her with greater and greater intimacy. About six months in, the last of the sagging slippers spiraled into what had been up until then a fairly well-camouflaged rabbit hole. Being in the business of applied psychology I should’ve detected the signs sooner. Thing is, I was thoroughly beguiled by romance and the abundant arsenal of expert compensations she had honed over time.

The first red flag went for the most part undetected. Retrospectively it was during the second of our honeymoon months when her customarily cheerful disposition began losing a little luster. Over the course of a few weeks, her usually enthusiastic temperament eroded into a bit of “whatever” which over several more days degenerated into testiness. At work, this transformation was imperceptible, but at home, it showed. We had disagreements, arguments and our first-all out shouting match. At the time, I chalked it up to the adjustments couples need to make when discovering the shiny new object of their affection might not exactly be the dream person that was initially anticipated. A few days further on she missed popping up early to start breakfast. Then came the morning when she complained of debilitating fatigue and took to bed for the next day and a half. This was very much out of character, but she soon recovered, bouncing back to her genial self. All once again well with the universe, it was easy to simply blame the recent irritability on menstrual symptoms.

The second code red flashed another couple of months on. In similar fashion, there were a few weeks of increasing conflict between us. The arguments were worse this round since my budding sense of insecurity was forecasting an inevitable demise to our relationship. Reckoning that the college classes she had begun would soon be broadening her horizons, I figured my days were numbered. The Green Monster was gnawing on my bones and inflaming my formative fears of abandonment. I worried too that our eight-year age disparity would not survive her impending blossom. Her petulance and my colliding apprehensions brought about a few figurative knock-down-drag-outs. As had been the case previously, the tensions ultimately crumbled into a couple of days of bed rest. This time though, Little Miss Sunshine’s narcolepsy exhibited an unsettling resemblance to catatonia and gave me pause for a long hmmmm. As before though, she quickly rebounded and happy days were back again. I probably should’ve assigned greater importance to my uncomfortable observation. In defense, I can only claim that the chubby archer was still very active and had to be dipping his arrowheads into some sort of blinding concoction.

Having witnessed two contentious periods followed by twenty-four to forty-eight hours of sleep bordering on the cadaverous, it finally dawned on me that the arrival of our third round of rifts was likely pointing to issues more significant than merely troublesome menstrual symptoms. Her down days were just too extreme. She didn’t complain of severe cramping or any other customary miseries, and despite our domestic upheavals, she never exhibited other than exemplary behavior at work. Aside from her acute episodes, recoveries from her bleak bouts were relatively brisk and her general physical health was the superior sort enjoyed by most young adults. Menstruation being cyclical clued me to begin thinking in terms of cyclical disorders. She functioned far too well for what was then referred to as manic depression. However, while poking around that subject I came across a couple of abstracts that introduced me to manic depression’s little sister, cyclothymia.

I learned that cyclothymia, or more euphemistically bipolar lite, is a somewhat rarer and less conspicuous chemical disorder. Nonetheless, the condition is formidable and can be difficult to diagnose and manage. It’s characterized by fixed-period mood swings of varying degrees that differ in intensity from person to person. Of course, everyone experiences mood changes, but when one’s affect tracks a pattern rather than normative responses to ordinary conditions, that is to say when the frame doesn’t simply provide a boundary for the artwork but instead either influences, obscures or even dictates the content, the result is problematic. The high side or manic phase of cyclothymia, akin to bipolar disorder, often features pronounced exuberance, impulsiveness, overconfidence, overachievement, insomnia and hypersexuality. The lower end or depressive phase includes irritability, despair, suicidal ideation, lethargy and hypersomnia. With the notion of cyclothymia on the table the pieces of the puzzle began to almost magnetically snap into place. It accounted for her impeccable work performance, the juggling of multiple projects, the adroit social skills, the all-night baking and cooking sessions, the three a.m. fish tank cleanings, and yes, the super-sized sex too. It also figured into her occasional bursts of temper, lacerating slights, distraction, expressions of despair and what I would sometimes refer to as hibernation. The only component left to establish was the duration of the orbit. After a bit of calendar study, the periodicity emerged. It was a sixty-day rotation. The interval initially proved tricky to tease out because it was on an unintuitive, every-other-month sequence confoundingly masked by her closely coinciding menstruation.

The subtle subterranean rhythm of her affliction ran as an obscured undercurrent. She had no practical awareness of her slowly pirouetting chemical warp, no notion of being sealed inside a seesawing jar of molasses, perpetually migrating from a ventral striatum’s elation on one end to an anterior insula despondency at the other. Her world was a water globe menagerie of joy and sorrow, a mosaic of light and shadow rolling across the calendar. Though caught between a breathless present and a monotonous past, the oscillating pattern always escaped her. Intertwined with her menstruation, she experienced the sway as a seamless tapestry of the existential ordinary. Her highs were considered surges of ambition and lows nothing more than the usual consequences of day-in-day-out pressures, punctuated now and then by hormonal collapses. Alike the old adage, she was prevented from seeing the forest for the trees. I, on the other hand, had the advantage of an outsider’s unobstructed perspective. My unique circumstance, being almost continuously in her presence, afforded me an aerial drone’s overview from which to observe her behavior not only in the present but the recent past and predictable future as well. The momentum of her congeniality and diamond-hard dedication to work kept her downward spirals well concealed from clients, co-workers and other casual contacts. She simply refused, via sheer will, to allow the quicksands or her psyche to interfere. It was only when she reached home that she would relent to the exhaustion of resisting her melancholy, give in to its intermittent course and sooner or later be consumed for a day or two.

Once I had convinced myself my suspicions were legitimate, I felt a begrudging responsibility to bring my discovery to her attention and offer what help I could with assessment and management. I use the word begrudging because her disorder served to augment a host of uniquely wonderful and highly desirable qualities. It magnified her intelligence and aural charisma, made her one in a million and ignited the unique spark that caused nearly everyone around her to feel suddenly elevated into the ranks of a special club they hadn’t until just then realized they were members. She was vibrant, fun, talented, entertaining. I didn’t want any of that to be dulled or diluted, and selfishly, certainly not for the industrial strength sex to be diminished even one iota. On the other hand, the middle-school rows, the instances of self-loathing, and the worrisome installments of virtual paralysis, though relatively brief, were no fun for me and immeasurably worse for her. I hated to see her suffer.

Despite making certain she was on an upswing when I first broached the idea of cyclothymia, it still didn’t go over well. Having it suggested to anyone that they might not be in complete control is a frightening and, on some levels, insulting proposal.

“Oh, I get it, you’re telling me I’m a lunatic and should have my head examined because you think I’m so phenomenal and you love me so much!” Stomp, stomp, stomp and slammo goes the door.

Needless to say, for a while it was the source and subject of intense argument, to put it mildly. Only after I had her agree to a demonstration I devised did she begin to entertain the possibility that a cyclothymic specter might be afoot. Without disclosing the content, I wrote down several predictions about her future disposition and anticipated behavior, sealed them in an envelope and had her date it. When my predictions were later opened and proved to be accurate, she assented to confer with a mutually trusted colleague of ours who was also a psychiatrist. Thereafter an extensive exam was pursued followed by medication trials. Before long an efficacious pharmaceutical was found and an optimal treatment dose was established. Much to my surprise and great relief, the medication worked to alleviate most of her symptoms and only marginally muffled her many sensational attributes. Hallelujah!

youtube

#poetry #music #original poetry #anecdote #cyclothymia

1 note · View note

aquamarinescarlet · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 2: The notebook

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3.7k

Warnings: None, Wanda is too hot.

Author’s note: The gif is killing me, how can a human being be so pretty?

Series Masterlist || Aqua's Masterlist

“I thought interrogating was your favorite part,” you jumped out of surprise, not much for the voice, but for the file that fell right on your stomach.

“When I can interrogate actual suspects, these people won’t be able to tell us a single useful thing,” you told Barton.

You pushed yourself up from the floor. You had arrived early at the office, hoping to get a chance at talking to someone interesting, but they had only brought in the people who were at the club on the night of the murder. As much as it was important to go through every single person’s statement, it was also absolutely pointless, boring even. So you decided to take a quick nap on the floor. Odd places tended to give you the best ideas, unfortunately it didn’t quite go that way this time.

“Did you get anything useful?” You asked just for the hell of it.

“No,” he threw himself on his chair, “no one saw anything interesting for the investigation, most of them didn’t even know Pietro other than the fact that he was a Maximoff.”

You nodded along, that wasn’t a surprise. Being hit with insomnia after leaving the crime scene, you took that time to go after everything you could find about Pietro Maximoff. The internet hadn’t been exactly a good source of information. One specific paper really caught your attention though, The Asgardian.

What was particularly interesting about it were the articles it held portraying the Maximoff family. Half of them painted the twins and their parents as good people, examples of great leaders, the other half always brought the gossip, unmasking that perfect picture. And two names stood out: Thor Odinson and Loki Laufeyson.

Both men took over the paper when their father, Odin Borson, died of cancer. Talking to these men might be a good idea for the investigation, for reference on how they gathered this exclusive information that no other place seemed to know about. But you’d pitch that idea later, there were more pressing things to discover first.

“How about the owner of the club?”

“What about him?” Barton didn’t take his eyes off of his phone.

“Did you find him?” You asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“No, records only gave us a name, Gabriel Burns-”

“But you haven’t been able to track him down yet,” you stated, interrupting him. He raised his eyebrow, gaze finally meeting yours. “If you had found him, he would be the first one we’d talk to,” you thought about it for a second, “although it isn’t surprising, he wouldn’t want to have any contact with the police considering all the illegal activities going on in his club.”

“Illegal activities?” It was Wilson’s voice that captured your attention.

“Of course, the drugs alone could cause him some trouble.”

“Not enough trouble for him to disappear like that, we haven’t even found someone who’s heard that name.”

“Then it’s because he has more things to hide.”

“Are you saying we should put more effort into finding him?” Barton spoke up again.

“Not really, I believe we can get answers from that notebook... by the way, how’s it going?”

“Banner is still on it, but I don’t think he’ll find anything.”

“Why not?” Barton probably expected that from you, but not from Wilson, he tends to be more hopeful and less observant.

“Well, our killer is smart, calculated, and if what she says is true,” he motioned to you, “they wouldn’t leave behind a notebook full of evidence that would lead us directly to them.”

“So you believe we were meant to find it?”

“Of course, that would make it a fun investigation.”

There it was. Wilson’s hopes were high, but placed in a different direction than Barton’s were. The dynamic of this team would be an interesting one to deal with. Sam wanted an investigation - follow leads, solve puzzles - while Barton would go for the quickest way to close the case.

While Sam would be a useful asset, eager to do things out of sheer curiosity and without asking too many questions, Barton was one to be kept an eye on. What would he gain with getting rid of the case so fast? You took a mental note to look further into that.

It was almost an hour before something actually interesting happened. An hour of asking the same boring questions to the same frightened and traumatized people. An hour of walking around the office, listening to the sounds of papers, typing, printing, yawning.

And then she walked in, the woman you had been dying to talk to. She walked in like she owned the entire place. It was a natural reaction - you noticed - acting powerful and elegant. Deep down she felt small, shy, uncomfortable with the amount of eyes that followed her every movement.

She kept a high posture but her gaze met none other. Her hand played with the rings adorning her fingers, although she tried to avoid, stopping every time she noticed the action, not wanting to look weak before all these strangers.

She was dressed, head to toe, in black, just as a sister in mourning would. A suit that made her look professional, important, but wasn’t exactly something that would catch the attention of the high society. A black wool coat protecting her from the cold, a piece of clothing anyone could use. Black heels, comfortable, short, making her look taller than she was, all for the sake of exuding power.

You couldn’t help but notice the contrast between her and her brother. His need to show he had money, and her’s to show she was someone to be respected.

Right as you were about to walk towards her, Romanoff appeared, pulling her to an interrogation room. Apparently you couldn’t hide your disappointment well since the men in the room felt the need to comment on it.

Determined not to let this go, you went towards the same room the two women had walked into. Natasha wouldn’t like the interruption, but you had been waiting for this opportunity for hours now. The universe, however, seemed to have other plans for you as Banner entered the office. You wouldn’t have cared for his presence if he hadn’t commented on the notebook. More specifically, that it was clear for you to try and solve the numerous puzzles it contained.

You’re sure your eyes shined at those words, as you all but ran back to the room.

“The notebook is cleared?” It was a rhetorical question, of course, but you had to voice those words anyways.

“It is, but we’ll leave it for Romanoff to take a look when she gets back.”

“Really Barton? Is she your boss now?” You knew how to get things from people, and Barton was clearly afraid of Romanoff, but what he feared more was being diminished, and making him believe you saw him as a subordinate in an investigation he was also the lead would do the trick quite well.

His eyes held anger, but he complied, allowing you to take the notebook from his table. You leafed through the pages, not letting yourself get completely lost on all the symbols and words on it.

"Ballistics was able to match the bullet to the gun found on the abandoned building,” Banner explained, “but they weren’t able to trace either of them.”

“Wasn’t there a lot that disappeared from the US military a couple of months ago, a small amount of the same rifle as the one we have?” Barton seemed deep in thought while Banner just made himself busy on his computer.

“Are you implying that whoever killed Pietro was the same person who stole from the military?” It was unlikely, and somehow not impossible to believe.

“Not necessarily, the killer might have gotten the gun from the stealer.”

“C’mon boys, that’s not the point of the investigation,” Banner interrupted.

The discussion died down, Banner kept himself busy while Wilson and Barton went to the improvised kitchen to get some coffee. You turned your focus back to the notebook, this time with no distractions.

The patterns of the letters were specifically crafted so the handwriting wouldn’t be recognizable. Block letters, sharp and pointy, almost as if the handwriting was printed, which you could only tell wasn’t true because it seemed they were written at a moment of rage, harshly, practically tearing the pages.

You all but jumped when you reached the page you wanted to.

If you had a guess, you’d say it was a floor plan. The numbers, from one to five, indicated different rooms, maybe there were actually numbers in each door that matched these?

There was something about the pattern the numbers followed, it didn’t make any logical sense. The number four was circled in pen, but you could see the other numbers had also been at some point, except it was with pencil and only light traces could be seen.

The entire notebook itself looked like it had seen some horrible times, but that specific page had wrinkles and folds all over it. Although it could be passed as just an overused piece of paper, the folds didn’t seem to be accidents.

As to the actual location that drawing was depicting, you weren’t sure, you had your theories, however, you wanted to see if the woman who was the closest to all of this had something to say about it.

A quick glance at the clock indicated that Natasha had already been with the woman for several minutes now, she wouldn’t mind the interruption. Plus, the only person around to stop you was Bruce, who was too busy on the computer to notice your absence.

So you set off to the interrogation rooms. The place was one you’ve known all too well for the past seven months, first as the interrogated, later on as the interrogator. You knew the feeling of being in that room, whether you’re guilty or not. The feeling of being under a microscope, the fear that they might actually find out all the illegal things you never even did. It could be frustrating.

Bursting into the room, your eyes fell on Wanda Maximoff. Gorgeous woman, impeccable from head to toe. Even under these circumstances she was able to keep her head held high. Impressive.

Natasha was just about to complain, probably something concerning your interruption, but you were faster.

“Ms Maximoff, if you don’t mind, I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask,” she just watched you, confused as to why the other agent in front of her didn’t seem too fond of you.

“And who are you?” Her voice was one of honey and spices, sweet and smooth, enveloped with the remainders of a foreign language she’d been trying to, unsuccessfully, get rid of.

“Dawson, you better get out of here,” Natasha warned, threateningly. She held no hints of companionship towards you, which would likely only make the other woman all the more wary of you.

“Relax Romanoff,” you sounded casual, “I won’t be long,” you approached the table, leaning forward beside Natasha, “I’m Sara Dawson, to answer your question,” you offered, the name still sounded weird in your mouth.

Her demeanor wasn’t inviting, “and what do you want, Ms Dawson?”

You smirked. Despite knowing she would put up a strong front against you, she had given you a chance to ask your own questions, taking away the power Natasha had of kicking you out.

“Alright, so, Ms Maximoff, how would you describe your brother?” She seemed bothered by your question.

“Look I already answered that, do we rea-”

“Please, Ms Maximoff, how would you describe your brother?” You insisted, causing her to sigh and roll her eyes.

“Funny, charming, good with people,” there was no emotion in the words uttered, she didn’t want to talk about it, you kept thinking it might be because they weren’t exactly true, “maybe too good,” she whispered.

“Were you, perhaps, jealous of him?”

“Jealous?”

“Yes, jealous, you talk about his qualities not with the nostalgia of a sister who just lost her beloved brother, but of one who wishes she could’ve been just like him.”

Your words had caused an effect. She straightened her back, clearly uncomfortable with what you were implying. Her expression shot daggers at you. The fact that you held a friendly smile was probably only making her madder.

“Yes, I would’ve liked to have been more social, but I would never want to be like my brother,” silence invited her to continue, “he was an irresponsible dumbass, had no sense of priority and would throw it all away for a chance to fuck a whore somewhere or get his veins pumping with the newest drugs on the market.”

She was fuming. If this was a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of her ears. It took her a few seconds to calm down, leveling her breathing and slowing her heartbeat. It must not be easy to admit something like that less than twenty four hours after her brother’s death.

“So you resented him?”

“He left me,” her tone was much calmer this time around, “our parents had just died and he left me alone. I had to take care of the empire my father had built, dealing every single day with sexists who didn’t believe I could do it. Do you know how hard it is to be told again and again that you are incapable, unfit for such a high ranking job? So yes, Ms Dawson, I resented him.”

She wasn’t affected by the confession. Her eyes bore right into yours. It wasn’t a lie, she really resented him, and she had a good reason for it. Taking the toll that was her brother’s to bear, defying, by herself, all the beliefs ingrained in society that women aren’t capable of taking positions of leadership. It must not have been easy.

You asked yourself if she ever gave out sexual favors in exchange for things. Beneficial business trades, respect, power. A beautiful woman like her would have men crawling to take her to bed. You were hypnotized by her green orbs; vivid, scared. Your eyes scanned her features, red hair cascading down her shoulders, small delicate nose that blended perfectly with the rest of her face.

“Did you kill your brother… Ms Maximoff?” She did not avert her gaze from yours, her breathing didn’t change, her chest rising at a steady pace.

“No, I didn’t.” You believed her, she didn’t seem like the murderer type, and despite their differences, she held nothing but love for her brother.

“Do you know a man named Gabriel Burns?”

“No,” you weren’t so sure you believed her this time. A simple pull of a muscle, right above her lips, made you question if she was being completely honest.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” she insisted.

“So you don’t know Gabriel Burns?”

“I told you, I do not.”

“But you’ve heard that name before,” it wasn’t a question, and she didn’t treat it as one. The long silence that followed was enough for you to know she did.

“My brother mentioned it once, but I have no idea who it could be,” you could sense her hesitation, “do you think he might be the killer?”

Her words were enough for you to conclude that Gabriel Burns was good at keeping himself on the low. All the research done by the team has gotten you no answers. There were no matches in any database, all of the witnesses interviewed stated never having heard the name before. The man was a ghost.

“Unimportant,” the tenseness from moments before was gone, “now one last question,” you raised the notebook you’d been hiding underneath the table.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to have that!” Romanoff protested after her long silence, but you just ignored her.

You placed the object in front of the woman, opening on the page you had been marking with your finger throughout the whole interaction.

“Does this ring any bells to you?” She scanned the page, her eyelids closing slightly while she focused on the weird sketch.

“I have no idea, it looks like a floor plan to me, but I wouldn’t know what for,” she seemed uneased by the smile that suddenly made its way into your face.

“I happen to have an idea,” you said, already making your way out of the room, but before you left you stopped by the door, turning back to face the woman, “oh, and agent Romanoff, let her go, she didn’t kill her brother.”

“I never said she did,” the woman screamed after you, but you were already far down the hallway, excited by the next steps on the investigation.

You hoped back to the office, catching the attention of the three guys.

“Looks like Romanoff didn’t kill you this time,” Barton’s tone was laced with amusement, which would’ve annoyed you if you didn’t have other things in mind.

“Wilson, I need you to come with me,” if he was surprised, he didn’t show.

“What for?”

“Just come,” you insisted, already turning your back to him. The less information you gave, the more intrigued he would be, therefore following you.

You could sense his shadow behind you as you walked down the hallway. Unfortunately you got cut off of your course by the two women leaving the interrogation room.

“Where are you going?” Romanoff asked in that authoritarian tone only she could manage to do.

“Nowhere,” you dismissed her, but a sudden idea made you stop on your tracks and turn around, “Ms Maximoff, if you’re free right now, I’d like you to come with me.”

She looked confused by the request, and you were getting impatient. Natasha was clearly not happy about it, but there was nothing she could do if the woman said yes. After almost 30 seconds of complete silence, you started to make your way again towards the exit, a pair of heels clicking behind you.

You got inside the car, Sam on the driver’s seat, Wanda following behind.

“Where to?”

“The nightclub, of course.”

Wanda’s demeanor changed at the mention of those words. She was already on high alert, but the idea of going to the place where her brother was murdered lit up something in her. It wasn’t fear, anger or shock, it was nervousness. Her fingers kept playing with her rings and her eyes kept a religious watch outside the window.

You couldn’t help but look at her through the mirror. The traces of red around her eyes, from crying all night, lips red and swollen, skin shining yet pale. She caught you staring when your phone rang, but you didn’t look away for a few moments.

“Yes?”

“Where is the notebook?” The voice on the other side of the line was mad, irritated.

“I have it, why?”

“And where are you?”

“I told you before, Romanoff, it doesn’t matter,” her silence scared you a little bit, “look, I’ll let you know in a few minutes, okay?” You tried to appease her nerves, as a precaution, though, you hung up.

“We’re here,” Sam said, as he parked the car on the entrance to L’Archange.

“Alright,” you said before either of them could get out of the car, “Wilson, I need you to go up to that security guard,” you gestured towards the one that guarded the entrance of the, now, empty club, “and say you’re from the FBI, that you need to take a look inside, let me know if he says yes.”

“Why? Aren’t you coming?”

“Nope,” you simply answered, swiftly leaving the vehicle, leaving them both startled, “go people, go.”

Wanda followed you, not sure what to do or where to go, while Sam, surprisingly, obeyed you, walking directly to the guard. You walked along the front of the building, watching the walls as if they were the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“You people ask too many questions.”

“Forgive me for wanting to know what I’m doing with a stranger at the place…” she quieted abruptly, you didn’t blame her, it was all still too fresh.

“I’m planning,” you explained, not quite sure why you did it.

“Planning what?”

You stopped at the side of the building, digging yourself into the small corridor between the club and the property beside it. Wanda felt weird about it, but followed you anyway.

“Planning for what?” She grunted when a twig got caught on her hair. The heels and clothes certainly weren’t ideal for this kind of situation.

“Agent Wilson will set the guards on alert, they won’t let us in without a warrant, of course, but they’ll know we’re coming. And what do places like these do when the police are coming?” You paused to look at her, but she didn’t show any signs of understanding. “They get rid of everything illegal.”

“Isn’t it preferable if you guys can catch all these… illegal things inside?”

“Perhaps,” it was the only thing you offered her, she’d have to wait and see your plan for herself, if she wanted to.

You finally reached the end of the corridor, and you found yourself, pleasantly, on the alley you had walked been that night, when the murder was called in. Wanda watched you curiously, the proud smile painting your features.

“You’re a very weird person, Ms Dawson,” for a moment you hoped she wouldn’t call you that anymore.

You smiled at her, “I’ve been told that before.”

You finished your round at the club.The other side also consisted of a thin corridor that Wanda was very uncomfortable to cross again. It was strange to be there when it was so peaceful and quiet, none of the crowds from that night, or the loud music that must’ve usually enveloped the place.

Sam met you at the car, a not so pleased expression on his face.

“He said we needed a warrant to search the place.” You sent Wanda a knowing look.

The three of you got back inside the car. Sam mumbling all kinds of complaints about going all the way there for nothing. You held the notebook tight on your hands, mindlessly flipping through the pages. Wanda caught your attention, tapping your shoulder after a few minutes on the road.

“Hey, can I take a look at the… notebook?”

“Of course,” you turned to hand her the object, but clumsily dropped it on the car floor instead.

It fell open, starting Wanda.

“I’ve seen that before!”

Taglist (fill up this form to be added): @purplemeetsblue @blurryylines @ambivertedfrog @nervoustrack @scarjo-wife @ilovemarvelwomen @Tsmukanii @chaekhan @sxfwap @zairaaaa @dabakedpotato420 @onceattwice @marvelwomen-simp @royalityofmultifandom @hallecarey1 @kategayden @unexpected-character @spongebobtentacles @007giu @wandasbubs @gimaximoff @myneveerlaand @Fallingfineline @makegoodchoices @olsensnpm @celestialcat44 @supersourlemon13 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @yeetus-thyself @@stephanieromanoff @paladinho @lenissa @lokisconnexion @myfavoriteficss @when-wolves-howl @aawake-atnight @dandelions4us @peter3iscool

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff #mcu #marvel #sleeping dogs

193 notes · View notes

quinntamsin · 2 years ago

Photo

Her wife faced her, the woman from Dorne was a stranger in the far north, but they loved each other. An Yronwood by blood, her dark skin stood out against the snows of late summer. And yet, the two of them loved the far north. Smiling, the heir of Wolf's Tooth walked the edge of the massive blackwater fjord of her home. In full leather armor and with the sable fur around her shoulders she was a far different sight than her Dornish bride. "I am still unsure in this new land, " Lady Denna spoke, they had know each other for years, and still the marriage was new. Qwynn let out a chuckle, "when we finish our fleet and sail to the far west things will change." "I would make a very fitting next Sea Snake," Denna replied.

House of the Dragon S1SE6, "The Princess and The Queen", at least ten to five and ten years have passed. Rhaenys now lives as the heir to the realm and ALicent a Queen properly. A dynamic which will form the Black and Green Council, the competing factions to the Lancasters and Yorks of the War of the Roses. We open again as the blood of the Targaryen Dynasty, their rises and fall before us in the opening. The literal blood of Dragons as the last Dragonlord House fights itself. Quite poetic, which reminds me I need to get Fire & Blood, so I know this story better! "By Fire and Blood." From a black screen we hear the groaning of a woman in childbirth. Rhae has given birth to her third child it appears (yes I researched the timeskip to get it accurate). Almost like Aemma the new actress brings new life into this world which brings Aemma's words to her daughter in episode 1 all more real. A beautiful strong baby to join the Dance later on. We fin dout that the Queen has called for the new baby so like the proper petty bitch she is Rhae does it herself. Seriously, ALicent and Rhae are rightfully petty to each other. What fucking clout and pettines do you have to have to walk POST BIRTH to deliver your baby to a petty ass noble. Seriously, this girl has fucking strength! Laenor pops up happy for a healthy baby and we can see he is a caring husband. And he asks the stupid question if fucking childbirth is painful. I love how she's a stubborn ass about doing it herself. She is shaming everyone for letting this happen. SHe' the fucking Crown Princess and yet they are letting the Queen do this. Cole pops up at the door being a fuckboy, and we get to see the modern Alicent, which is different. I'm still use to the younger actresses, but I do like Viserys comes out happy to see his. Both the Queen and the King seemingly ignore the Princess and just take the baby. Which is kind of messed up. And, of course, the Queen gets a jab in how the baby doesn't look like him. Laenor just naming the Kid Joffrey has brought a problem. And we see that Harwin has fathered the Queen's sons. Dammit, these Strongs have really got their hands into the Kingdom. Larys sits as the Master of Whispers and LIonel was fucking Hand. A young dragonling is brought before the Targaryen kids. We see the White Hair Aegon II and Helaeno along with Prince Jaecerys. And oh shit it's Aemond not Helaena. They bring a pig out for Aemond which is stupid, since the boy will ride Vhagar. The fact that the two Aegons are fucking with young Aemond shoes how sad it will be when they kill each other. And, the foolish child decides he's going to delve into the fucking Dragon pit. Note dragons CAN CARVE through stone to make tunnels. So this is beyond foolish. He ventures inside and out comes a fairly large Dragon, its mouth filled with flame. He runs in fear and we switch to Alicent speaking to her daughter? It does appear to be Helaena, the tragic future queen. She has a fascination with bugs which is a nice little quirk. "He'll have to close an eye." So Helaena likely has the dragondreamer power, since Aemond will lose his eye in the Dance. The queen brings Viserys up the fact that none of the kids Rhae has had is a Velaryon. None of them are true, but I want to point out, that it doesn't matter. They have the blood of the Dragon, does it matter? Criston decides to listen to the Queen and we all know he's just a spurned lover. We can see here that really Alicent resents Rhae, who flaunts her sexuality like mother fucking Daemon. And then we get a scene with Aegon fapping out a window to his mom popping up. Yeah, she's definitely so fucking fixated on this, on how Rhae will spite them. Well, it could happen, because Viserys and Otto handled this all VERY FUCKING BADLY. We split to Caraxes flying above what appears to be Dragon Stone, as massive Dragon flies over him. Vhagar, the future dragon of Aemond. Seems that Daemon and his family has come Pentos. To be offered a separate land for themselves. A place where they could be away from the Velaryons and Westeros. It would be smart to set apart, a way be free of them. Laea doesn't want it, but we can see Daemon is considering it. It does seem they do keep counsel with each other. Seems Daemon has yet to really mature, he's still a fuck boy. Back in Westeros in the Redkeep we see Aemond and Jaecerys training. Cole is the one doing the training and we see how he is foolishly. Aegon eyes a servant girl, ah great another Daemon, as Harwin strong comes out to watch his kids. Yeah, Lyonel has done really well for his family. Watching, we see Cirston pitting Aegon against Jacaerys, which he will do later on. Aegon quickly over powers Jacerys since he's a fucking boy. Jace comes back him with fury swinging wildly, but his fury seems to easily overraw the Prince. We can see that they are accusing Harwin of adultery and he decides to punch the shit out of Cole. Who deserves it like the little whiny spurned bitch he is. So he's the Incel Knight, and as Rhae comes to see Harwin she hears how Lionel is aware of it all. You can tell she is emotional and is aware something is about to change. As she tries to rest Rhaenor and Laenor bursts in with some dude named Qarl. We can tell that she's trying to listen to him. HIs story has him wanting to head off to war again. She calls on him on his actions and they begin to argue. She talks bout how those are his sons and he calls her out. It appears their sham of a marriage appears to be over since they cannot keep the rumors at bay for long. ANd suddenly we go to Rhaena (SO MANY RHAES IN THIS SERIES) besotted that she doesn't have a dragon. Laena tries to calm her and goes out to a lonely Daemon and they talk about the Princess' offer. WE can see that Laena really wants to be with him. THe man is obviously unsure, and desperately wants to head back to Westeros. We switch back to Rhae who is listening to the small council discuss the Brack and Blackwood feud. We here how the Triarchy is rearing its head again and we can obviously see that Rhaenyra isn't happy. She offers a dragon egg to Alicent after an apology and of course she lactates through her shirt. Alicent has reserved herself to the foolish notion that she cannot cool this problem. Honestly, if both of the women talked about I could see her being honest about how she feels saddled with the King. Lord Lyonel enters to speak to the King to resign and we can see the King does not want the Hand to quit. Lyon speaks of a Shadow, and he admits he cannot speak of the Shadow. Harwin is to be taken from COurt and we can see the QUeen wants it to be known. That her old friend has been having "Bastards" and her children should reign above. Heading back to her chambers she takes Counsel with Larys strong about what is going on. It is a tad strange the Queen is sitting with the Master of Whispers. This is obviously the action that has been building the so called "Green Council" faction which will stand against Rhae. He starts to discuss everything before smartly ending his words as a servant appears. This makes me think that Lyonel has some unseen contempt with his own father. The Queen speaks of how her father would have been in her corner. We bear down into what appears to be a gaol and it seems that the Lord of Whispers wants a favor as he names the various men and we see a very graphic scene of a man's tongue being cut open. In Pentos Laena is about to give birth to her baby, Baela, Daemon hovers nearby indifferent. This makes me wonder how are the two feeling. THe doctor speaks to the Prince if he'd consider a c-section. Daemon does not want it, and we see Laena wander outside later to Vhagar. She calls for Dcracrys as the massive Dragon actively refuses to follow the command. He then burns her alive in front of Vhagar who has demanded it. It kills me, another woman killed to further the story of how women are treated terribly in WESTEROS. Now, we find Harwin speaking to his son and the Princess waches. Switching back to Laenor sparring in the yar with Qarl. The Princess tells Laenor to bring the man along. They are leaving for Dragonstone, the Queen is set on undermining the Princess' status. The Sons of Viserys seemingly stand against her own children. Meanwhile, as Lyonel takes Harwin back to Harrenhal we see that the tongue-cut have come for House Strong. THeir doors are locked and a massive fire breaks out as both men die in the last burning of Harrenhal. Another Great House taken as the cadet line of House Targaryen flees. We hear Larys calling children a weakness. Viserys stares at his fingers as rats have popped into his room. His own illness seemingly coming from the shadows to take him. Larys continues his narration as people claw at the ashen remains of Harrenhal. The tongue-cut flee into the shadows like the rat does. We then find ourselves seeing the burning form of Laenor as Baela and Rhaena sob. Their father walks away in shame and sorrow. We switch back to Larys s he speaks to the Queen. This man is more deadly than LIttlefinger it seems, and just as treacherous as he feeds the Queen's paranoia. She tells him she didn't want it, but she can tell Larys did it as leverage against her. This man shows his dangerous nature to gain power in the throne. A Kinslayer walks the halls of the Red Keep. Gay Canon I'd really like to seem some great stories with Alicent topping Rhae, just cuz that's what's in my head. I have ises more for a Dragonrider Alicent story using some GEMD theories from Lightbringer. Hottakes

Knights of the Incel Guard.

The King is obviously TRYING to keep his shit.

Aegon is a fucking prat and him fapping out a window is disgusting.

Larys is obviously feeding the Queen's paranoia so he can form a power bloc with Lord Otto.

Seriously, FUCK Criston for attacking a child.

Harwin beating the Incel KNight was the best part of this season.

Fuck Larys and Alicent for killing the Strongs, Lyonel was a master Hand.

I wanna say that Laenor getting to fuck about with Qarl is a nice change of page.

This series really pushes how WEsteros considers women to be fucking disposable.

Queen Alysanne would be appalled at what has become of her family at seeing what her husband decided.

Laena's story was -appalling-, but less appalling than what happened in the books.

24 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

The Summer Before College | Marcus Moreno x reader

summary: just because you got some good scholarships doesn't mean you couldn’t use some extra cash. luckily, babysitting for a family friend has been a steady side gig for you. rule number one of babysitting: don't let your wandering eye rest for too long on the hot single dad.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut (dub con elements? but she’s into it lol don’t worry), age gap (he’s 40-something, reader’s 18/19), loss of virginity, pussy spanking (like, once), lots of petnames and ‘good girl’s, not a dark fic but kinda pushing it, not explicitly dad's best friend trope but it has that energy and I've decided that he is in fact friends with the reader's dad

a/n: this has basically nothing to do with the movie. he’s just a hot dad. don’t overthink it.

You knew the walk to the Moreno's by now: down two blocks from your house, take a right at San Vicente, a left on Birch, a few houses down and you're there. With your full backpack weighing on your shoulders it felt longer than usual, but you made it anyways and knocked on the front door.

"It's open!" a voice called from inside, and you turned the knob and swung the door open.

You almost regretted wearing your tiniest jean shorts, from the way Mr. Moreno did a double take when you walked in. But hey, it was the middle of summer and he would never look at you like that— you were just his daughter's babysitter, ever since you were sixteen; he was probably just surprised to see that you were wearing something other than your school uniform. Maybe some part of you wished he would look at you like that…

Missy called your name, tearing you from your thoughts, jumping up when she saw you and beaming as she rushed to give you a hug. "Hey!" you greeted in return.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Mr. Moreno nodded in your general direction, apparently already dressed for whatever it was he had to do, slipping on his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door. "She's already had dinner, so just homework and bedtime," he explained to you as you nodded dutifully.

"Bedtime? Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore," Missy rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you're a big kid and you need to be asleep by 10. It's a school night."

She huffed but didn't protest, and you joined her on the couch because she wanted to show you some drawings she’d done earlier that day. "Bye, Dad!" Missy waved when he left, and he turned back quickly to blow a kiss in her direction.

Once you helped her finish her homework (frankly, you didn't have to do that much— she's a smart kid), the two of you enjoyed some video games before you finally got her to start getting ready for bed.

It was cute how confident Missy was that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, only for her to be snoring within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow. You were envious of how easily she could sleep; you could kill an hour just tossing and turning and readjusting your blanket. But that wasn’t going to be your problem tonight: you weren’t going to sleep yet, until the man of the house returned, meaning all you had to do was wait.

Even in summer, having already graduated, you had plenty of work to do while you waited for Mr. Moreno. Knowing what classes you had in the fall, you bought your textbooks a bit early and planned on reading them all before the semester began. You’d already gotten through Philosophy Through the Ages and now you continued from where you left off in the middle of Introductory Physics.

What surprised you was that you had time to finish that one, too. You had anticipated that Mr. Moreno would be back before you made it to the module on fluid dynamics, but you reached the index at a quarter past midnight and he was still gone. You shrugged and picked up the next one— A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry— hoping he was alright and that he’d be back soon.

You had to make yourself some coffee when 1 a.m. rolled around; tired, anxious, and distracted, you realized this was probably not the best state to be attempting to study in, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice. You didn’t want to fall asleep here, you’d promised to watch Missy and you couldn’t exactly do that while asleep… plus, he would probably be back any minute now. Sure, you’d been saying that to yourself for nearly an hour and a half now, but it was more true than ever.

It was another hour and a half, though, until his car pulled into the driveway and he pushed through the front door, prompting you to set aside your textbook.

“Good evening,” you greeted, standing up. He looked a little disheveled— but it worked for him, with that curly hair all messed up in just the right way. Maybe it was just that it was late or that it was the rare time you saw him without Missy around, but there was a darkness about him now, not sinister so much as just purely intimidating. It was like you hadn’t really taken him seriously before, and now you were appreciating that you should have.

“She’s asleep?” he assumed, glancing over to the hallway which his daughter’s bedroom was positioned at the end of before slipping his jacket off and hanging it by the door.

“It’s half past two, so… I really hope so,” you chuckled.

“Shit, is it that late already?” he groaned, glancing at his watch.

“Did you not notice?”

“I.. got carried away.”

You didn’t want to know what he’d been out so late for. It was none of your business, and you figured you were better off without any secrets to keep— you’d never been so good at keeping secrets, even your own.

“Been studying this whole time?” he noticed as he glanced at the textbooks on the couch, grinning a little. It sort of felt like he was mocking you, and it made your cheeks warm as you nodded. “What a good girl.”

That made a cold tingle crawl up your spine. Sure, other students had called you that before, and plenty of your teachers, but when he said it, like that… it felt entirely new. “I try,” you managed to respond eventually.

“You’ll do well in college, I bet.”

“You think so?” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he nodded confidently. There was something comforting about the way he smiled at you; yet, there was something predatory about the way his eyes glanced down your body and back up slowly.

As you turned and bent over to pick up your textbooks off the couch, you could tell that he had stepped closer; you could just barely hear the soft noise of his footsteps on his carpet, just barely feel the warmth of him behind you, just barely pick up on the slow, thoughtful breath he took in and out through his nose.

Standing back up slowly, you felt him do it again, right against your neck.

“M-Mr. Moreno,” you stammered, shivering when his hands gripped you on either arm. Not a tight grip, per se, but one that made his strength obvious.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he breathed. “Not when we’re alone.”

Not that you really had any plan on how to respond to that, but if you had, it would've been forgotten as his lips brushed over your neck, leaving teasing kisses in a trail over your pulse.

"Wait—" you blurted out instinctively when his hands moved to your waist, cut off by your own shaky sigh and suppressed moan. “What if she wakes up?” you questioned anxiously, glancing down the hallway and hoping you wouldn’t find Missy there, watching her dad feeling you up— and you letting him, not just that but enjoying it. Of course, the hallway was deserted, but you couldn’t feel certain it would stay that way.

“She won’t,” he assured. “Not if you can be a good girl and stay quiet.”

You made a little whimpering noise as you wondered if you could. You didn’t know how, really; you were good at being quiet when you were alone, but being alone had never felt like this. Forbidden, sexy, terrifyingly wonderful… nothing had ever felt like this.

“Do you want me to stop?” he purred, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, “please… please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grinned. “Tell me what you do want.”

“I want…” you sighed and started over again, willing yourself to speak your thoughts aloud even though they made a pit of guilt sink in your stomach. "I want you to make me feel good."

You knew it was a sort of childish way of putting it, even before he laughed at your statement, but you weren't sure what else to say. "Yeah? I can do that," he decided. "But I can make you feel good in so many ways…" he trailed off as his right hand slipped lower and lower, finally landing between your legs as you gasped. Two fingers slid over the crotch of your shorts, and somehow he managed to bump against something that made electricity shoot up your spine and your hips buck into his touch of their own accord. You felt his smile widen as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "You'll have to be more specific," he finally finished. "How do you want me to make you feel good?"

"Inside me," you whined, "I want you inside me."

There was a sudden shift as it seemed like the control he had over you suddenly did not extend to himself; he growled a bit and pulled you into him, and you could feel the hard shape of his cock, through his trousers and your shorts. You could feel it pressed just above your ass and it made you squirm against his embrace. "Feel what you do to me?" he grunted, and you nodded quickly. "Good."

He spun you around quickly, pulling you close to him and burning right through you with those brown eyes darker than ever, but just as you thought he might kiss you, he spoke instead.

“My bedroom’s upstairs,” he informed you quietly.

You just nodded, following him as he pulled you along through the house, up the stairs and past the door to the master bedroom of the house.

Now that you hadn’t seen it coming, of course, was when he chose to grab you and kiss you suddenly. It was rough and passionate and nothing like you could've imagined; you were certain you'd never been kissed like this, like he needed to kiss you more than he needed anything.

Your arms slipped around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he kicked the door shut behind the two of you. Little moans were muffled by the kiss— and it took you a minute to realize they were yours. You didn’t even sound like yourself; probably because you’d never felt like this before, and therefore had never had any reason to sound like this.

You could feel his cock between your legs, though unfortunately not in the way you wanted. Still, it drove you wild to have him so close like this, to try to imagine how the thick shape you were feeling would ever fit inside you.

His hands were so strong and thick that you worried they’d stretch out your tank top just by reaching under it— well, that is you would have worried about that if you could think about anything else but his hands reaching under your tank top. He didn’t even waste his time touching you over your bra, instead making quick work of the clasps with one hand before coming back to grope one breast in his palm, then the other. Just that was enough to make you run your fingers into his hair, but a little pinch to your raised nipple made your fists tighten and pull— you didn’t mean to, and you were just about to feel bad about it until he growled a little. It seemed like a growl of approval, considering he pinched your nipples harder to make you do it again.

“Feels good?” he asked with annoying (yet arousing) confidence.

“S-so good,” you slurred, stumbling over your words as you tried to think as clearly as possible through the thick haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

As he guided you to set your legs down and unhook your arms from around his neck, you felt a bit like a doll being posed; when he pulled your top over your head and your bra from your arms, you felt like a doll being undressed. You sort of didn’t mind it; you were happy to let him take the lead, confident he knew at least 100% more about this than you did.

He knelt down before you as he roughly pulled at your tight jean shorts, his knuckles nearly bruising your hips as he stripped you. Your underwear were not the pair you would’ve worn if you had known somebody was going to see them, just a plain dark blue color that made you feel so drab as he came face-to-face with them. He didn’t seem to mind much, grinning up at you as he slipped his fingers under them and pulled them down, too. Your face was so hot and yet your legs were breaking out into goosebumps simultaneously, and a shiver rolled up your body when he growled at the sight of your body laid bare for him. Before you could even process it, he stood up and grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed and spreading your legs.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praised with a smile that made you feel a little light-headed, swirling a few fingers over your swollen button until pulling them back to spank you there— it wasn’t even that hard, but you yelped and jolted and he laughed darkly. “So sensitive,” he purred, his words walking a fine line between a compliment and a taunt, “so wet.”

Another finger slipping down to your entrance proved him right, your arousal plentiful as his touch glided through your folds.

Suddenly overcome with a moment of bravery, you sat up and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, making him smile down at you. “Let me help you,” he offered as he worked the buttons instead, freeing you to try to open his belt. “Look at you, acting so desperate…”

At this point, you weren’t even offended by that; you wanted him so bad that you didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by it anymore.

He slipped the shirt off of his shoulders just as you finished opening the belt. He pushed your hands away, and now you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you down by your wrists. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, señorita,” he purred.

Why did feeling powerless to him turn you on so much? There was no real fear to it— you knew and trusted him, you would never have developed your misguided crush on him if you didn’t— and yet there was a strong edge of uncertainty as he kissed your neck and moved down your chest, between your breasts before he stopped to kiss those, too.

“Oh god,” you breathed, and he smiled against your skin before sitting up and staring down at you. It wasn’t apparent if it was distant streetlights or the moonlight shining in through the window, but either way it cast a cold blue light into the room that reflected as a glimmer in his eyes.

“Not gonna make you wait any longer,” he promised in a low voice, reaching down to push his unbuttoned belt and trousers to his thighs— those thick, muscular thighs that made your lip catch between your teeth.

Your breath caught, too, but in your lungs this time as his cock was exposed: thick, swollen, veiny… it looked picturesque, if thoroughly intimidating. You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to move towards it or sheepishly crawl away.

"Why do you look scared?" he asked, his voice so much deeper than you remembered it from before, even if there was genuine concern somewhere in his tone.

"Is it gonna hurt?" you asked instead of answering.

"Baby…" he sighed huskily, "are you a virgin?"

You bit your lip and looked away, irritated that you hadn't managed to hide your fear enough to keep your secret.

He sighed, your silence apparently answer enough.

"Do you not want to, anymore?" you asked anxiously, afraid you had completely killed the mood. Part of the reason it'd taken you this long to lose it was specifically because people seemed intimidated by the idea of being your first.

"No, no, I— no," he asserted sternly. "I just need to… change my approach, slightly.”

He leaned down a bit, hovering over you as he trailed his hand up your leg, rubbing the inside of your thigh before finally drawing circles over your aching clit with his thumb, causing you to shiver and moan quietly.

“And, to answer your question, it won’t hurt. Not if I get you good and ready for me,” he explained, pushing just one finger into you— and even that small of a stimulation made your eyes flutter shut, with his fingers being so much thicker and stronger than yours.

The second made your fists clench around the satin-y sheets beneath you. You didn’t dare open your eyes, knowing you’d find him staring down at you and you weren’t ready for that, weren’t ready to see his reaction to your body in such a vulnerable state. You could hear his reaction, though, with the rough groans and satisfied sighs he let out as he pumped his fingers into you.

When three fingers filled you, your eyes shot open. “Fuck!” you yelped.

He smiled but slowed down, apparently taking some pity on you— but not enough to stop him from pressing down harder on your clit.

Just when you figured he’d warmed you up enough and he’d fuck you like he promised, he slid lower and the bed and bent down, adding his tongue into the mix with his fingers. It was… overwhelming, and hot, not just psychologically but literally: it was physically hot, as in temperature. How was his mouth so warm against you, and his fingers so warm inside you?

When he latched his lips around your clit and sucked on it, you saw stars. Energy gathered in your gut and burned so bright that you thought you might explode. Really, it was more like an implosion as the coil inside you snapped and your thighs accidentally clamped down on his hand. It didn’t faze him though, it didn’t even slow him down as he moaned a little against you and curled his fingers even harder. You didn’t remember reaching down to grab his head, you just felt his hair between your fingers as you pulled it roughly, gasping his name.

When he did stop, sitting up and wiping his face with the back of his hand, you just looked back up at him as you caught your breath. He laughed, and you realized you were gawking unintentionally.

“I’m guessing you’ve never come like that before?” he ventured. You didn’t know if ‘like that’ meant from oral or just so suddenly and intensely, but it was true either way so you nodded.

When he reached down to grip his cock with the same hand still wet with your slick, you held your breath without realizing it. “Please put it in me,” you whimpered.

“I will,” he assured as he guided the head of it through your slick folds, stopping to tease your clit as you jolted from the contact on the sensitive nerves. Something surreal and indescribable tingled under your skin— you could hardly believe that this was happening, let alone with him, with Mr. Moreno. Or, Marcus. You were on a first-name basis by now, surely.

He pushed forward in one smooth, slow stroke until he was all the way inside you, his body filling yours to the brim as you quivered from the sensation of being stretched so wide.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.

“...almost,” you answered hesitantly, unsure how to describe the sensations you were feeling; not exactly pain, but not not pain. The favorite pain you’d ever felt in your life, easily.

He chuckled as he gripped your hips a little tighter. "I'm gonna move now," he announced. You nodded your approval, sighing shakily as he pulled his hips back and you felt the intoxicating friction of his cock against your walls.

"Ffffuck," you whimpered, gasping when he slammed his hips forward again. Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pushed as deep into you as he could with each thrust, still measured but not exactly gentle as he set a pace faster than you’d prepared for. But it was good, god it was so fucking good you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. "Marcus," you sighed, barely recognizing your own voice when it was heavy with need and arousal like this.

He grinned when he heard his name cross your lips, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis until you were forced to arch your back. "You like it rough, don't ya, honey?"

You nodded, confident that you liked it however he was doing it.

"Fuck, I knew it. Knew as soon as I saw you."

Before you could wonder what he meant by that, he was already moving fast enough to make your head spin. You had never had anything so deep inside you before, and when he pushed your legs up and back against your chest, you had no choice but to scream with pleasure.

Just before you reached the peak of it though, his hand clamped down over your mouth to muffle the sound. "Gotta be quiet," he reminded you through his teeth before relaxing his hand a bit so you could still be heard somewhat

"I can't," you whined, "Marcus, please, I can't stay quiet—"

"You have to."

"Feels too good," you whimpered your excuse. "F-fuck, slow down, I won't be able to stop it—"

He cut you off with a kiss, slow yet dominating, and your moans were muffled by his lips. You still sounded so loud in your own head, but at least your cries weren't echoing against the walls of his room anymore.

What was echoing were the sounds of skin slapping on skin as he pounded into you, roughly finding every delicate spot within you and making the backs of your thighs sore as his hips slammed into them. It forced your hands to grip at his muscular shoulders and your nails to dig into the skin there. You hoped there would be little half-moon shaped marks there tomorrow, maybe one would even scar so he'd have your mark on his body forever; after all, he'd carved a permanent space in your body by taking your virginity. Even if you couldn't dream of being as special to him as he was to you, you liked the idea of giving him something that he couldn't give back.

That energy was building again, different from before but no less powerful and persistent. "I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm so close," you whispered.

“Yeah? Go ahead," he encouraged. "I wanna see you fall apart just for me, wanna feel you come around my cock."

You hadn't realized he'd be able to feel it, and the idea of that was so filthily beautiful that it pushed you over the edge, your whole body tensing up in sudden waves of pleasure so intense that it made your eyes water.

Through the static filling your ears, you heard his low, husky voice encouraging you: "Good girl, just like that, don't fucking stop."

You'd always been powerless to his voice, but this was another level. It was as if your body understood and met his demands, continuing to ride the peak of your sensation so long as he growled in your ear just right.

It was much too tender, the way he brushed the stray hair away from your face, the way he kissed your slack mouth again, the way he held you tighter and mumbled more praises to you. It was more romantic than it had any right to be, and you had to bite back the words of affection threatening to spill out of your mouth.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, I've loved you for years, but it was beyond inappropriate. You didn't want to play the role of the innocent virgin who thinks sex means being in love and lets herself catch feelings for the older man who is just taking what he wants and, at best, doing her a favor so she doesn't have to go off to college and get her cherry popped there. Maybe that was accurate, but that wasn't who you wanted to be.

You wanted to be sexy, and mature, and in control. You wanted to play a new rule, one that still felt foreign and yet closer than ever. So you wrapped your legs around his hips and held him deeper in you, smiling with a little growl of your own.

"I want you to come inside me," you informed him with a purr, loving the little moment of shock that passed over his face before he groaned, fucking you a little faster and more erratically.

"Fuck, really?" he rasped.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and nodded.

"You're on the pill?"

Another nod, this one finished off with a shiver as you wondered how much more of this your body could take.

He grinned and picked up the pace again, his moans getting a little louder with each movement. "Fuck, I'm gonna come— gonna fill up your tight little pussy, is that what you want?"

You nodded feverishly, already close to the edge again as you imagined what it would be like to have his come in you for the rest of the night. Was he going to make you walk home with it leaking out from between your legs? Why did that idea make your inner muscles involuntarily tighten around him?

With a string of curses and a grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise, he reached his own peak and you felt his cock flex and pulse inside you, a new warmth filling your gut from the inside out.

It's hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that, since you were busy basking in the afterglow (and, less enjoyably, worrying about the consequences that tomorrow morning would bring).

When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, you wondered if you should get up and get dressed.

"Stay here tonight," he instructed you, as if somehow a response to your internal thought. "Your folks won't freak out if you're out all night, right?"

"I'll just tell them I slept over at your place," you shrugged. With a confused look from him, you clarified: "on the couch."

"Right," he nodded as he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you closer, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. In this way and in so many others, it was how you expected (and hoped) losing your virginity would go: someone you trust and who cares about you, with enough attention on you that you didn't feel much pain, plus cuddling afterwards. But, in even more ways, it was unlike what you'd ever thought possible: it felt incredible and you came so hard that your ears were still kind of ringing, you didn't use a condom or even think to mention it, and finally— and most absurdly— it was with Marcus fucking Moreno.

Frankly, considering his performance earlier, "fucking" very well could be his middle name.

"You should sit for me again next week," he suggested quietly.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No," he grinned, "but I'll be sure to come back real late, after she's gone to bed, so I can show you all the other ways I can make you feel good."

"H-how many ways are there?!"

He just laughed, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, sweetheart… so smart, but so innocent. We can fix that.”

You weren’t sure entirely which of those two things he intended on fixing.

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal x reader

2K notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

not okay, m | jjk, myg

full title: I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, ft. jungkook

summary: Jeon Jungkook fucked up. He talked shit about emo girls. Min Yoongi decides he's going to make him take back what he said, make him beg and plead and cry to be touched by the sexiest woman he knows. Never mind that you were a goth in high school and not an emo.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (Yoongi/you); definitely a scheme to seduce a clueless JK; threesome smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, m-masturbation + daydreaming, edging / orgasm denial, inappropriate (but wanted) touching in public, a lot of begging, hair-pulling, scratching / marking, thigh-riding, handjob, choking, ball squeezing, restraints, cowgirl, nipple play, handcuff and anal vibrator usage, doggy, little bit of m-receiving oral, finger sucking); tbh Jungkook is a mess, is forced to make messes, and likes it; fluff; shifts from all three POVs; black-haired, sub!JK x noona, dom!reader x blue-haired, dom!Yoongi

yes, there are My Chemical Romance references, I'm aware MCR don't like being considered emo, we know labels =/= how someone truly is; yes, it's PTD (emo for a hot second) JK and Yoongi

"Is that what you think?"

Jeon Jungkook flicked the long black bangs over his left eye, laughing. "Yeah, these are just extensions. I thought it would be funny. I don't actually think this kind of style looks good on me."

A sharp click of the tongue. "No, the other part. About women."

Jungkook blinked, bewildered. Then he slowly remembered, recalling his words. "Oh... I just meant I wouldn't be attracted to a girl with a more emo, edgy style."

The deep voice was sharp and accusatory. "You said it was cringey."

"Ah... well... a little?"

Those pointed, cat-like eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Uh... hyung?"

Min Yoongi frowned and stood up.

"We will see about that, Jungkook."

Jungkook watched him go, even more confused than before.

"Why did that sound like a threat...?"

Because it was.

The next time they went out to eat together, Min Yoongi brought his girlfriend with him. She didn't often tag along. When his friends asked Yoongi about it, he just laughed.

"It's because you guys are too fucking loud."

The few times she did come with him, she was relatively quiet. She had an unapproachable air about her, intimidating in the way that a single eye shift and locked-on attention could cause heart palpitations. Everything about her image seemed far too sleek and refined for everyday life. Her gestures, her walk, her style. Minimalist outfits, mostly white and black. It was obvious that she had a nice body, but none of her clothes implied that she was advertising it, at least when she was hanging out with her boyfriend's friends.

There was one exception.

She always smelled delicious.

Noticeable, addictive, gourmand, always making you turn your head just to smell it again. A hint of ginger to startle, followed by the warmth of marshmallow and the earthly scent of green tea. It blended with her skin, turning warmer and muskier as the evening went on, making you wish that you could smell the bedsheets that laid against that sweet-smelling body later that night.

Very troubling for Yoongi's friends for his girlfriend to smell like pure sex and then gaze at them with such intensity when spoken to, startlingly similar to Yoongi himself.

"Hello, Jungkook. Surprising that you're the only one here."

Jeon Jungkook was so stunned that his brain seemed to cease all functions. He was completely frozen, eyes and mouth wide open, not believing the sight in front of him.

Yoongi?

His hyung was dressed normally. Black cardigan, white shirt, black jeans. His hair was light blue now, a cool-toned, steel azure. The color made his fair skin glow and his dark brown eyes stand out.

His girlfriend?

Her hair was loose and wild, partially covering the left side of her face. Dark eye makeup and dark crimson lips. Large, loose black shirt hanging off one shoulder, with a black leather choker and silver chain that clipped to the button placket of her shirt with a clasp. Her bra strap was obvious, meant to be seen, the delicate lace pattern molding around the top of the cup that was barely visible. The shirt was long enough to cover her ass, belted at the waist with a black leather belt adorned by a silver moon-shaped buckle. Sheer black stockings with seemingly intentional rips and sleek black velvet heels.

"Yoongi said you think emo girls are cringey," she chuckled, looking down at him, smirk on her plump, defined lips.

Jungkook sputtered, feeling his face burn. "N-No, noona, that's not what I meant, I–" He was attempting to restore brain function, but he was rapidly losing blood up top and it was gushing down below.

This had to be the hardest part of living.

"I had to remind him that I was a goth in high school, not an emo. They're slightly different."

She bent at the waist and adjusted the chair before sitting down next to him, giving Jungkook half a second to view her perky tits encased in black lace, her chest smelling so fucking good that he nearly passed out. He jerked his head away, glancing at Yoongi in sheer panic.

The older man gave him a completely blank expression.

Their previous conversation echoed in Jungkook’s head. We will see about that.

"The rest of them aren't coming today. I'm treating Jungkook," Yoongi was explaining.

His girlfriend tilted her head. "I thought you said Hoseok was coming."

"He was, but then something came up."

"Hmm..." She raised an eyebrow at Yoongi. He straightened his cardigan, noticing her discerning gaze, and raised one back.

It was only then that Jungkook realized they weren't sitting next to each other, but on either side of him, boxing him against the wall. Now Jungkook could smell Yoongi too, wearing a spicy, woodsy cologne that mixed with his skin to become warmer and more comforting, except right now it was scaring the shit out of him because he didn't understand why they weren't sitting next to each other.

"Ah..."

He simply pointed to the empty chair in front of him, unable to finish his sentence.

Yoongi looked over to see what he was pointing at. "Hm?"

"You're right, I should move it so the server has easier access to our table."

And she dragged the chair to the side.

"Very considerate of you, Jungkook."

She smiled at him and he swore the proximity was causing his sanity to crumble to dust. He saw her tuck her black purse behind her perky, round ass. It had a small pin on it of a devil reading a book titled, Guide to Eternal Torture.

A cutesy yet ominous image.

At this point, Jungkook realized he was staring at her ass and the raised hem of the shirtdress, revealing the fact that the stockings were thigh-highs. The black garter straps were straining against her juicy thighs as she adjusted her long legs under the table.

Fuck.

He bolted out of his seat, mumbling and stumbling past her, the alluring scent of her perfume enticing him as he squeezed past.

"B-Bathroom, be right back!"

You watched Jungkook run off, clamping his hands below his stomach, raising your eyebrows as he and his tight black jeans sprinted to the bathroom.

"Hm."

You turned back to your boyfriend who was looking at the menu like it was the most intriguing piece of art he had ever laid his eyes on. You stuck your tongue in your cheek and breathed out, waiting for him to continue. Yoongi didn't look up. You didn’t really expect him to. You waited out of politeness.

"How long am I torturing him for?" you finally asked.

"Until he takes back what he said about you," your boyfriend responded dryly.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't think it was directed at me specifically. Does he even know that this is what I usually dress like? Or why you always tell me to dress simpler when I come with you to eat with all of them?"

Those dark brown eyes flickered up.

Yoongi's perfect lips curved into a small smirk.

You rolled your eyes. "Of course, he doesn't."

He lowered the menu, raising his chin defiantly as he spoke. "My reason is still valid. You saw how Jungkook acted. He a mess around you."

"I don't ooze sex, Yoongi. You're exaggerating."

He cocked a brow. "I beg to differ. I would wager he's jacking off in the bathroom right now."

He drummed the table with his fingertips, challenging you to bet on it. You waved a hand, dismissing the challenge. Wasn't like you could miss that tent. You circumvented back to the matter at hand.

"Did Jungkook actually say that? About emo girls being cringey?"

Yoongi shrugged. "Something like that."

You frowned. "Really? With his eyebrow piercing and tattoos? And his black hoodie and jeans?"

Your boyfriend went back to the menu. "Projecting, I think you called it?"

Yes, Jungkook washed his hands before throwing himself into a stall and touching his dick.

He wasn't gross.

Would be really great if his dick had calmed down on his own, but her perfume lingered on Jungkook's hoodie sleeve, just the faintest trace on his left arm, and he pressed it against his nose, inhaling.

Fuck, why does she smell so good?

His right hand was undoing his pants, his eyes and fingers closing in, focusing on his throbbing erection fighting his underwear. Maybe if he just touched it on the outside, it would be fine...

Her face popped into his head, complete with the little quirk of her eyebrow.

Nope.

Jungkook shoved his hand into his boxer briefs and pushed them down, teeth biting his hoodie sleeve so he could smell her perfume as he stroked his cock, feeling somewhat dirty about it, but mostly violently horny. It wasn't like he could stop his brain. He couldn't go out there with a massive boner either, so he had to do what he had to do. It was only a few thoughts anyway, thinking about her thighs under the table and wondering how they would feel wrapped around him, wondering if she would let him rip those stockings off and bite those delicious legs, wondering if he could undo that belt and unwrap that body and press his nose against that sweet-smelling skin and taste it with his tongue, planting kisses over those beautiful breasts with her hand around his cock instead of his own, pumping him to her unforgiving pace, forcing him to moan into her skin, abusing his stiff length with her tight grip and expansive strokes, his hands gripping her soft thighs and his whines saturating the air, pleading, begging her to let him cum.

Would she edge me?

His hand abruptly stopped.

Jungkook used every ounce of willpower to avoid whimpering into his own sleeve.

His whole body was achingly tense, screaming at him to finish, but he refused, shoving his whole face into the thick fabric and breathing hard, clenching his jaw and his twitching cock, imagining her pretty face with a smug, sadistic smirk, those dark lips teasingly telling him he could finish inside her.

"What are you doing?"

The pale hand dance in the air, beckoning the waitress over.

"Ordering."

You tilted your head. "Jungkook isn't back yet. You should wait for him."

Yoongi shrugged. "I know what he likes." His gaze flickered to you. "Meat."

You narrowed your eyes. Yoongi gazed back, unfazed. You knew that look. You knew how to read between the lines. To everyone else, Yoongi was a 3D puzzle with a million pieces, but to you, he might as well have been a children's picture book.

The side of his lips quirked upward, so faint you would have missed it if you weren’t looking for it.

He did have very nice pictures in his book. You'll give him that.

You ticked your right eyebrow so subtly that no one caught it but him. He, too, knew that to look for. His smirk grew, pleased at your wordless communication.

You were dating a real troublemaker.

You smirked back as the waitress arrived at your table, apologizing for keeping you waiting. One look from both Yoongi and you, and she nearly dropped her notepad, fumbling with the pen, cheeks flushing pink.

Trouble did tend to find trouble.

Jungkook had determined he hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't actually orgasm in the bathroom stall thinking about Yoongi's girlfriend while smelling her remaining perfume on his clothes as the said couple sat in the restaurant, awaiting his return.

Well.

Now that he mentally described it like that, it did sound kind of fucked.

Crap.

He saw a blob of black in his peripheral vision and looked up to see Yoongi's girlfriend stride past him, fragrant-smelling hair drifting behind her, his head turning automatically to follow the sight, entranced by the movement of her hips and hair, only to find her glancing back at him, foxy smile dancing on those dark lips.

He swore she mouthed his name.

Maybe even said it?

Jungkook blinked and she was no longer looking in his direction, heading to the women’s bathroom and rolling up her sleeves, clearly going to wash her hands.

He was seeing things.

Yes.

Just horny and delusional.

"I ordered the beef plate for you. If you don't like it, we can order something else."

Jungkook looked down at the streaming, sizzling platter of seared beef and vegetables, feeling his stomach growl as he sat down.

"No, hyung, this is great. Thank you."

"Hm, that's good. You can start eating, I'm going to wash my hands."

Yoongi began to stand up, brushing off his pants. Jungkook jerked his head up, seeing the older male push his chair back, light blue hair falling over his forehead.

"Um, h-hyung?"

"Mmm?"

Those dark brown orbs flickered to him.

"Er..."

Yoongi tilted his head.

"Erm... why is noona here? I thought you said… you were just treating me to a meal...?"

Yoongi tilted his head the other way, slowly, unreadable expression in those cat-like eyes.

"I am. I'm paying today."

He raised his head and smiled. Jungkook tore his eyes away from Yoongi to see her weaving through the crowd to make her way back to the table, silver chain hanging from her black choker glittering in the overhead restaurant lights, exposed shoulder and collarbone a stark contrast to her all-black outfit, body shape so exquisite that it wasn't only Yoongi and Jungkook watching her walk. Many pairs of eyes followed her wake, some shy, some unabashed and brazen.

"Besides, she is a treat, isn't she?" Yoongi purred.

She had made eye contact with Jungkook and her lips curved into a small, amused smile.

Any response he had to Yoongi’s words died in his throat.

"Too bad you think that style is cringey, otherwise you might have had a shot, Jungkook."

You sat back down as Yoongi waltzed off, gesturing to his hands, leaving you with the Korean equivalent of Steve Rogers from 1943 to 2011, complete with what you presumed to be a very nice ass if the rest of Jeon Jungkook was anything to go by. Ah, well, you trusted genetics. Surely nature would have blessed Jungkook with a good booty. You looked over to him. He wasn’t moving.

Wasn’t even blinking.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Jungkook started, jumping in his seat, his wide brown orbs shakily shifting to you. You made eye contact and he quickly looked away, swallowing hard.

Come on, surely, it's not that serious.

Jungkook ran a hand through his short black hair and snuck a glance at you. Or, more specifically, your chest. Ah. Was that it?

"Something wrong?" you asked, picking up your chopsticks.

"N... No...?"

You had to smile. Jungkook didn't even sound like he believed himself. You pointed to your collarbone.

"Too much?"

His brown orbs shot up. Silence. You locked eyes with him, keeping him in place. You witnessed his inner struggle now, trying to decide between what he thought was the right answer and what his instincts were telling him.

"Aren't you... uncomfortable, noona?"

You chuckled, picking up a piece from your pork belly dish and blowing off the steam. "Me? Of course not. People stare at me all the time. Might as well dress how I want." You dabbed the extra oil off on the side of the plate and brought it to your lips. Your eyes flickered to the younger man. He was still watching you, his own lips parted, wispy black strands over his forehead, accenting his dark brows and the silver bar piercing on the right side. Poor guy. Jungkook really picked the wrong man to project to, the one whose girlfriend never grew out of her goth phase.

You brought the meat close to your mouth.

Let your tongue snake out for a millisecond between your open lips.

His eyeballs nearly fell out of his head.

This is too easy.

You placed the hot meat into your tongue and closed your lips around it, chewing slowly, maintaining eye contact.

Not speaking.

Yoongi was surely overreacting to something Jungkook probably didn't think too much about before saying it, but that was fine with you because Yoongi told you to cause some trouble. You liked causing trouble. That's how you got Yoongi. Trouble attracted trouble. Still, he had something planned. You could tell. Maybe even guess.

You smiled at Jungkook and he gulped so loudly you could hear it over the sizzling meat.

Otherwise you might have had a shot, Jungkook.

What did that mean?

Jungkook was having a mild panic attack throughout the entire meal, even when Yoongi suggested they get beers. His girlfriend was driving, so only he and his hyung drank as they ate. They barely talked. Jungkook’s brain was too busy trying to break down the meaning of the mysterious phrase, replaying Yoongi’s words over and over.

You might have had a shot.

A shot at what?

What, exactly?!

Jungkook snuck a glance at Yoongi’s girlfriend and she was looking back, cocking an eyebrow when they made eye contact. He flinched and peeked at Yoongi's expression. His hyung was chewing his beef slowly, staring into space.

Have had a shot.

Maybe Jungkook needed to do shots to be a normal human being at this point.

"You're pretty quiet today, Jungkook."

His dick twitched in his pants.

Jungkook threw one thigh over the other and mashed his dick between them.

"Ah... sorry..." he mumbled, fixated on his beer glass.

Yoongi rapped his forearm with the end of his chopsticks. "Look at people when you talk to them."

Jungkook swallowed and looked up at her. "S-Sorry, noona."

She tipped her head and frowned slightly. "Is there something wrong? Did I say something to make you upset?" She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry if my presence is ruining your time with your hyung."

He jerked his head to said hyung. Yoongi prodded at something in between his teeth with the end of his chopstick and gave Jungkook a confused look, as if to say, what are you looking at me for?

"Um... no," Jungkook finally said, shaking his head and turning back to her. "No, noona. I'm glad you're here. It's really nice to see you."

"You're barely looking at her."

His ears burned at Yoongi's dry remark.

She perked up, pointing to her collarbones. "Is this bothering you? It's too much, isn't it?" she chuckled, jingling the chain on the choker and making his dick jolt between his clasped, jean-covered thighs. "You really don't like this style, huh?"

Jungkook darted his eyes to Yoongi, who pointedly stared back, giving him zero context clues except for reminding him of what he said before the meal.

A shot.

“Uh, that isn’t it, noona. Ah, actually…”

Jungkook chewed on his lip nervously, focusing on her instead of Yoongi. She turned her body, giving her full attention to him. He couldn’t tell if that was better or worse. The guilt ate away at him. Minutes passed by. So many, in fact, that it was getting awkward. His neck was on fire, his ears were red-hot, he was pretty sure his cheeks were flushed, and not from alcohol, yet he still he couldn’t say shit to those dark eyes and crimson lips, trapped by the gaze of the woman in black, feeling like he just booked himself a room in the Hotel Bella Muerte.

“Are you okay, Jungkook?” she asked, shadows of an amused open-mouthed smirk on those lips.

Was he?

“Er, yeah… I’m okay,” he croaked, coughing to clear his throat.

Yoongi snorted.

Jungkook shook his head quickly, letting out a small growl of frustration. “Actually, no, noona, I’m not okay.” He rubbed his forehead and exhaled hard, biting his lip as he faced her questioning expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said the style you’re wearing is cringey, because it’s not. It’s really not. You look amazing. You always have, but you look extra cool and sexy today and I feel really bad saying something like that because I should have thought about how other people could look and pull off that style, but I didn’t, I was only thinking about how stupid I looked when I was fifteen and I assumed–”

Her hand shot out and she pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him.

“Shh,” she hummed, fully smirking now. “You assumed and thus you got yourself in trouble, didn’t you?”

She’s touching me!

Jungkook jerked his eyes to Yoongi, who was nibbling on his last piece of steak and ignoring Jungkook’s panic. He added a bit of the sauce and popped the meat in his mouth, chewing slowly. It was like she and Jungkook weren’t talking at all or, rather, Yoongi wasn’t concerning himself with it.

Her fingers slid down, pressing into Jungkook’s lower lip.

He very nearly made a noise, quickly darting his gaze back to Yoongi’s girlfriend.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

Why was she saying his name like that? Like… like she was sexing it with her tongue or something? Oh, shit, he was going crazy. He had to be. It was all in his head. She must be saying his name normally. Had to be. Yoongi’s girlfriend? Flirting with him? No, no, absolutely not. And certainly not in front of Yoongi. Even if his hyung was pretending to be deaf, he was definitely not deaf. Yoongi was the kind of guy who would smack a stranger looking at his woman funny.

This?

It was all in his head.

Her fingertips slid to the side of his lips, tracing the shape.

R… Right?

“You think I look extra cool and sexy today?” she mused, licking her lips.

Jungkook could smell her perfume off her wrist. Sweet, musky, seductive. His thighs were so tightly clasped together that Jungkook was pretty sure his dick was pointing straight down with how erect it was at the moment.

“Ah… w-well… a b-bit…?”

Clink!

Jungkook yelped as cold water flew into his lap, immediately spreading his legs as the glass tumbled onto the tabletop. Yoongi swiftly stopped it, sighing exaggeratedly.

“Ah, my bad, that was quite clumsy of me…”

“Shit, Jungkook, are you okay?”

Her fingertips left his lip and he could finally breathe, only to squeak sharply as hands planted firmly onto his thighs and crotch, bunched-up napkins dabbing the excess water away, quickly soaking it up with the paper.

“You should be more careful Yoongi, sheesh…”

“Sorry, Jungkook, here, take these.”

Jungkook vaguely registered Yoongi saying her name apologetically as well, but at the moment he was not okay, very not okay, he promised this was the most not okay he had ever been in his entire life as Yoongi’s girlfriend mopped up water from his inner thighs and crotch, molding her hands around his dick, yes, his actual straining hard-on was being touched by her hands and it was getting harder by the fucking second, her hurriedly wiping the water off, acting like this was completely normal and not like his cock was trying to rip out of his pants.

“Ack, noona, w-wait…!”

He tried to sit up and Yoongi’s hand came down on his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Good idea, get under his ass just in case.”

Jungkook nearly blacked out as her napkin-covered hands slid under him and cupped the inside of his legs and bottom half of his ass, patting around. Her palms cupped his balls for a hot second.

He was fucked.

Utterly fucked.

Jungkook whimpered in his throat.

Her hands immediately stopped.

She looked up at him, very serious. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Jungkook shook his head from side to side so quickly that his vision blurred. “Yes.”

She shared a glance with Yoongi. The older man sighed and stood up, squeezing his shoulder as he leaned down to Jungkook’s ear.

“You want her to keep touching you or not?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, jerking his head to Yoongi. Those dark brown orbs looked back at him, demanding the truth.

“I didn’t spill that water for nothing.”

It was only then that it dawned onto Jungkook.

This was a set up. He was being set up. His hyung had set him up.

This whole fucking thing was a set up.

We will see about that, Jungkook.

She was cleaning his seat off and gently tapped his thigh. “It’s dry now. I think you’re okay.”

Jungkook decided that he really did not care about being set up. He did not give a single shit that he fell for it wholly and completely like a gullible idiot. He whipped his head back to Yoongi’s girlfriend, who was sighing ruefully, giving Yoongi the side-eye, muttering under her breath so only they could hear.

“What do you think he’s gonna do, Yoongi, ask to fuck me?” she hissed, placing the wad of wet napkins onto the table.

Too bad you think that style is cringey, otherwise you might have had a shot.

Jungkook’s hand shot out and squeezed her thigh.

“Can I fuck you, noona?” he breathed, chest tight.

He dug his nails into the sheer stocking, ripping new holes.

“If hyung lets me?”

"Yoongi, what are you thinking?"

Your boyfriend smiled. Very nonchalant. Nearly innocent. You knew better. This was Min Yoongi after all. His cardigan was off now. His broad shoulders in the white t-shirt were very distracting. Actually, so were his arms, now toned and more defined. Yoongi had recently taken an interest in working out.

His smile turned into a smirk. "What?"

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You noticed movement under you and smacked Jeon Jungkook's hand down so he was no longer picking at the peach fuzz in his face. He gasped in surprise, but you ignored him, completely focused on your rather troublesome boyfriend.

"You can't be serious."

You felt fingers brushing against the hem of your shirtdress, playing with the edge of the fabric. Yoongi was kneeling behind Jungkook, who was sitting on your bed, and the younger man was now messing with your outfit as you and Yoongi continued your conversation about him.

Your boyfriend leaned down and placed his hands on Jungkook's jaw, laying down his deft fingers one by one, lifting that chiseled chin up, those wide brown eyes now looking at your face, paired with the amused, cat-like ones.

"I am serious," Yoongi murmured. "You should teach him a lesson."

You pursed your lips. "He already apologized. That's enough."

Yoongi tilted his head, clicking his tongue.

"No, it's not."

Your eyes flickered down and you raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's interruption. "What was that?"

He gulped under your stern gaze. "Um..."

Yoongi smiled pleasantly, removing his hands from Jungkook's face. "See? He wants it."

"He's your friend, Yoongi. We're going to have to see him in person later. You want him to be horny every second he's around me?"

Yoongi placed his palm on the crown of Jungkook's head, drumming his fingers slowly. Light blue strands curled around his dark brows and eyes, playful smirk on his shapely pink lips. His deep voice was a low, alluring drawl.

"He already is."

Jungkook nodded very fast to agree. He was trying to hide the keen excitement in his eyes by not speaking, but his eager expression was giving him away as Yoongi slowly chipped away at common sense. You grabbed Jungkook's chin and squeezed, holding him in place. His breathing hitched in your hand, small whimper of your name leaving his lips.

"Don't look at me like that," you scolded.

"Like what?" Jungkook asked with shaking eyes and a small pout.

You kept switching from Jungkook's to Yoongi's eyes because if you looked too long into those pleading brown orbs, you might actually crack. You spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.

"Like you're desperate for it."

A low, dangerous chuckle.

Your gaze fixated on Yoongi. He was about to do something.

His long fingers worked into that short black hair and yanked back, making Jungkook gasp and shiver as he was pulled from your hand, your name falling from his lips in a breathy moan as his eyes continued to watch you, waiting, needing, begging.

"P... Please, noona..."

Yoongi's grip tightened in those black locks, Jungkook whimpering at the roughness, his own hands clutching your shirtdress, tugging at it.

"I'm telling you to do it," Yoongi purred, smokey and dark, staring into your eyes.

Jungkook was pulling your shirt now, pulling you to him, getting you to straddle his lap, you glaring at Yoongi's smirking face the entire time, annoyed that he put you in this position, and yet you knew something of this nature was coming the second he pulled you aside earlier today and asked you to dress the way you normally did because he was going to take you out to eat with Jungkook and Hoseok. Jung Hoseok already knew about your eccentric fashion sense and, while it did spook him a little the first time, he often sent you links of clothes that reminded him of you. You didn't think much of Jungkook being there. He was the youngest and Yoongi often treated him to a nice meal, although usually without you.

"Unbutton the top more."

Yoongi had adjusted the exposed shoulder himself and handed you the leather choker.

"Wear this one."

You had given him a skeptical look. "You suiting me up for some kind of mission?"

Yoongi had smiled mysteriously.

"We're going to make Jungkookie's life a living hell and he's going to like it."

Apparently, Yoongi's mission was to tempt and torture Jungkook until he was mildly insane and then subsequently draw out the younger man’s ravenous desperation so that Jungkook was now clawing at your thighs and whimpering under you, trying to get you to fuck him, shuddering every time he attempted to raise his hands and Yoongi punished him by yanking at his hair in warning.

"She hasn't said yes yet. No higher until she says yes," Yoongi snapped, not taking his eyes off you and your body.

"B-But..."

You slapped a hand down on Jungkook's mouth and squeezed harshly, digging your nails into his cheekbones.

"Shh. I'm thinking."

You closed your eyes.

Breathed out.

"You know the only hope for me is you, right?"

"That's a little dramatic, Yoongi."

Those dark brown, cat-like eyes glittered, full of mischief.

"You always play along with my ideas."

"They're all very good. You are a genius."

You loved the way Yoongi smiled at you, endearing and sweet with a hint of cunning cleverness. He liked to invent new ways to keep your life interesting. Being with Min Yoongi was never boring.

"I doubt you'll be able to shock me though. I've seen it all." You, too, enjoyed challenging him and being challenged. That was part of the fun.

That's why you carried on with his black parade.

Yoongi chuckled. "Mmm, famous last words."

“Don’t let him move.”

His veins were on fire, chest shuddering as his head was pulled back, back, his spine arching to an almost uncomfortable position, but he didn’t care, only feeling pleasure as she leaned down, hovering over his body, her hand on his mouth, gasps trapped on his tongue while her own extended from those dark lips, down, down, her other hand grabbing a fistful of his hoodie and yanking down the neckline.

The tip of her tongue touched the space right between his collarbones.

She removed her hand.

Jeon Jungkook moaned, hot and wanton, sinfully right in front of Min Yoongi’s face as Yoongi’s girlfriend licked up his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple and scraping her teeth against it, before sliding up to his chin, stopping right before his lips.

Exactly where the mole under his lower lip was, tip of the wet muscle unmoving.

Those sharp eyes shrouded in black eyeshadow and dark eyeliner looked down on him.

“Please, n-noona…”

He didn’t care if he was being pathetic, tearing at her stockings with his fingernails, unashamedly imploring for more.

She didn’t speak. Yoongi spoke for her.

“Please what?” his hyung murmured, massaging his scalp slowly.

His cock was so hard that it physically hurt being trapped in his jeans like this. Any sanity he had left was being obliterated into pure, unadulterated lust. Jungkook didn’t care anymore about right or wrong. Whatever they let him have, he would take. He would beg and plead and cry if he had to. Whatever it took.

He whimpered, his thighs tensing with need.

“P-Please fuck me…”

I want it.

I need it.

I crave it.

She raised her tongue and flickered it over his lips. He moaned, shaking, his hands dropping from her thighs, reaching between his own legs and rubbing his painful erection through the zipper of his jeans, nearly sobbing as Yoongi’s fingers tightened, nails raking at his scalp.

“I can’t t-take it anymore… please… whatever you want to do, just do it, please, please touch me, I can’t s-stand it, I’m so h-hard…”

She pressed her knee down onto the back of his hands and Jungkook whimpered, so aroused that even that felt good, simply knowing she was applying the pressure, his balls suffocating a little against the center seam because of how thick and stiff he had become.

“Are you a little bit of a masochist, Jungkook?” she whispered, licking his lower lip gently.

Instead of answering right away, he pulled his hands out from under her knee and pressed it down onto his aching cock, his eyes rolling back and moaning deeply, forcefully raising his hips up, slightly pulling on his own hair in the process.

“Hyung, noona, please…”

The friction was almost painful, but the leaking pre-cum had soaked into his underwear, the slickness rubbing against the head, the added pressure of her knee slightly crushing his erection being his own self-inflicted pain that only added to the pleasure.

Jungkook gazed at her with half-lidded eyes, shuddering.

“Destroy me more.”

Min Yoongi liked to watch his woman work.

She was the best, she knew she was the best, and she only got better the longer she was with him. Of course, he loved her working him most. But Yoongi also enjoyed keeping things interesting. Being an assistant to the master was just as fun. And besides, they had a much more equal power dynamic and that’s what they liked.

But Jeon Jungkook.

He pulled Jungkook’s hoodie off, taking the shirt underneath with it, bare chest exposed to sharp black nails that immediately sent Jungkook into a spiraling mess of moans, falling back as those dark lips attacked the tanned skin, leaving marks all over that muscular body. Yoongi placed a hand under that sharp chin and pressed the younger male’s head to his chest.

He liked this too, this power.

Yoongi pressed his fingertips into Jungkook’s chin and raked his nails over that quivering throat.

He didn’t expect anyone to understand how or why he operated the way he did. He only needed one person to understand and she was currently yanking off Jungkook’s jeans and black boxer briefs with vicious vigor, throwing them aside before climbing off his lap.

Yoongi placed his hand over Jungkook’s eyes and wordlessly took his sight.

He liked the sounds Jungkook made. Needy, desperate, and strikingly beautiful. He had a wonderful quality to his voice, pouring all of his emotion into it. Nice cock too. Very hard, very red, a good length and girth. Yoongi chuckled, amused at the younger man’s eagerness. He lowered his head, whispering into that ear with three quivering silver hoops.

“So cringey, isn’t it?” he taunted.

Jungkook whined in his hands, trembling tone saturated with apology. “I’m sorry, hyung, I’m so sorry, I take it back, I didn’t mean it, p-please believe me...”

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his woman remove her panties and step out of them. Stockings and garter belt stayed on though. She had style. He smirked, humming softly to mask her movement.

“You don’t have to say sorry to me.”

He removed his hand and she dropped her bare pussy onto Jungkook’s naked thigh.

Wet, hot, and sweet.

“Oooh, fuck…”

He lifted his head, eyes hazy and unfocused, greeted by the sight of Yoongi’s girlfriend straddling his thigh and rubbing her pussy all over him, the scent of her perfume mixing with the scent of her sex, thick and delicious and intoxicating, her soaked opening flexing against his hard muscle, driving him insane, disappointed that she was still mostly dressed.

“Noona…”

Jungkook reached for the belt at her waist, expecting Yoongi to stop him, but he didn’t, letting Jungkook unbuckle it, his hands shaking badly from the pleasure of her pussy touching his naked skin. The gentle slap of her thigh against his balls and cock not enough. He wanted to be touched, but those scrutinizing eyes indicated that she would touch him when she wanted and no sooner. It was making him lose his mind, but he loved it, moaning her name deep from his chest as he struggled to undo the small buttons, flinching and shuddering with her movements.

“I’m sorry, noona…” he gasped, staring into those sultry dark eyes.

She reached up and touched his lips, tracing the shape with her nail, sending shivers all over his body.

“You gonna watch your mouth from now on, Jungkook?” she murmured, trapping him with her gaze, turning the shivers into brimming electricity.

“Y-Yes, noona…”

He undid the last button and she swiftly removed her hand from his mouth and smacked his away, shrugging out of the shirtdress and tossing it to the floor before reaching down to her ass. She opened her mouth and her tongue snaked out, shiny with saliva, using her hands to spread her ass and pussy, squelching down on his hard, tense muscle.

“A-Ah, so good…”

And now he could feel more, the inner lips of her pussy now rubbing on his skin with her clit, slick and slippery, muscles of her opening constricting and relaxing on his thigh, an indescribable feeling, sensual and dirty and raw, the control so precise that her smug expression and upper body remained relaxed, hips still moving at the same rough pace.

Yoongi’s fingers tangled in his hair again, husky voice at his ear.

“Put the fingers of your right hand in her mouth.”

Jungkook obeyed as if spellbound, raising his hand and dipping his fingers into that waiting mouth, her warm tongue wrapping around them and coating them with her saliva, pink muscle gliding between his joints and dancing around his tattoos, spit dribbling down his palm and dropping in fat plops onto his crotch, his body flinching at the contact, unashamedly whimpering his want, Yoongi’s dark chuckle filling his ear.

It must have looked so dirty.

So wrong.

“Take them out.”

Jungkook removed his fingers with a sniffle, the coil in his core so tight he thought he was going to explode.

“Touch yourself.”

His cheeks burned at the thought of his own hand wrapping around his cock in front of two people, adrenaline and thrill burning his veins.

“B… But, hyung…”

“You touched yourself in the bathroom at the restaurant earlier, didn’t you?” that deep purr accused, pulling at his hair, prickling pain shocking his scalp.

“I…” His hand lowered. “I h-had to… noona is just so…” Staring into those heavily shadowed eyes, tongue licking those dark-stained lips, his saliva-coated fingers wrapping around his aching, taut cock, so close to sobbing at the relief of being touched that his voice cracked a little. “So sexy… and she smells s-so goooooood…”

Eyelids fluttering, Yoongi rapping his shoulder, telling him to look at her, telling him to appreciate that hair cascading over her left eye, those breasts cupped perfectly in that black lace bra, that garter and stockings barely encasing those juicy legs and her pussy sliding up and down his thigh, her hands spreading her ass wide so he could feel it as he punishingly and roughly pumped his cock, trembling all over, struggling to get his words out, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he explained but, for some reason, he wanted to explain and became even more aroused by it, relishing in knowing that she was listening intently to his confession.

“You always smell so, so good, noona… I t-touched myself w-while smelling your perfume on my clothes… T-Thinking about you and my hands all over your perfect body and your hands t-touching me…”

Fucking his hand harder, tighter, faster, slipping down, down, knowing what he was going to say next, driving himself to that point, the coil inside causing every muscle to tense, staring right into her eyes, knowing his pupils were blown-out and unfocused.

“T-Touching me like I am right now, abusing my c-cock and… s-stopping right before I c-cum…”

So close, so close, so close, please, please, please…

Her hand shot out and gripped his wrist painfully, forcing him to let go of his cock.

Jungkook cried out in vain, jerking his head forward and bringing tears to his eyes from the pain of Yoongi’s unmoving grip, tugging at his own hair, the sudden denial causing his cock to twitch and slap against her thigh, smearing pre-cum and saliva onto her soft skin, knowing that he wanted it, sinfully satisfied in how perfectly frustrated she made him, reading his signals and torturing him just right.

A merciful, skilled devil in disguise.

The hand left his hair.

Her hips slowed, sitting onto his thigh, an almost unbearable weight that he welcomed.

“Jungkook.”

His head lolled, scalp stinging, staring into her eyes and loving the way she said his name, like her tongue was wrapping around it and caressing it, each syllable drenched with curated possessiveness that was meant just for him.

Yoongi’s fingers snaked around his neck, four fingers fitting under his left ear, thumb pressing onto the pulse just under his right ear.

“You want to finish inside me?” she exhaled, hot and heavy and addictive.

The grip on his neck tightened, pressing on the blood vessels leading to his head.

One of her hands was still on his wrist. The other reached in between his thighs, past his stiff, purple-red cock. Fingers wrapped elegantly around his balls, joints locking, keeping him in a vise-like grip of pure power without adding any unnecessary pressure.

“Y… Yes, please…” he gasped weakly.

The grip of his wrist vanished. He was getting lightheaded, fighting to keep his eyes on her, and her free hand was now finally encircling his cock, finger by finger, making him wait, squeezing his balls a little harder, fuck, her touch, a distinctly different hand and different power, gently stroking his throbbing length as Yoongi choked him and she pulsed her grip around his balls, his breath leaving in shallow gasps and not only from the thinning circulation, but the flashes of pain and the constant pleasure of her hands and her wet pussy flush against his thigh.

“What if I make you cum like this?” she murmured, leaning in, Yoongi pressing in between his shoulder blades and pushing him to her beautiful face, dark and sultry and captivating, her lips now close to his.

“O… Okay…”

It took all of his willpower to hold himself up with his hands.

“You can do whatever you want to me, noona,” Jungkook whispered thinly. “I mean it.”

Yoongi pet his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his forehead, squeezing his neck tighter.

Jungkook choked out her name, desire so potent that he saw something in her eyes flicker. She liked it. She liked him and what she was doing to him and his reaction to it. It gave Jungkook a special kind of high, the kind of arousal that transcended past the sex.

Jungkook couldn’t get out anymore.

He knew he would crave this feeling, the feeling of power in powerlessness.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Jungkook’s first kiss with Yoongi’s girlfriend was her forcefully jacking him off as she squeezed his balls and Yoongi choked him, his tongue sloppy and lips quivering, her sucking on it and making him moan with his tongue trapped in her dark lips, his hips twitching and shooting thick strings of cum all over her thigh, his thigh, and the sheets, suddenly slingshot into oxygen when Yoongi let go, adding to the high, his eyes rolling back, shivers racking his body, pleasure so intense that he felt nothing else, absolutely nothing but her touch, her hand leaving his balls and wrapping around his waist, pulling him to her body, her kiss stealing his breath, her cum-covered hand sliding up and down his abused cock.

Jungkook inhaled.

Her perfume invaded his nose, marshmallow sweetness, warmth of green tea, spark of ginger, and he was drunk, drunk on submission, sex, and their power over him.

Yoongi loved everything she did.

The way she looked at him.

The way her body moved.

The way she leaned over and kissed him as he pinned Jungkook’s wrists over his head while she was riding the younger man’s cock with a bruising, intense pace, her tongue curling around his, moaning softly into his mouth, lover to lover. With every moment, Yoongi fell more and more in love, addicted to orchestrating the perfect scenarios for his woman to completely ruin someone else.

She broke the kiss.

What a brilliant, satisfied, killer smile.

“O-oh, fuck, so good, fuck, your pussy is s-so good…”

Yoongi sat back and watched her hands slide over Jungkook’s chest, gripping his shoulders and fucking him hard, watching her pretty pussy clench around that cock that was begging for that tightness and that torture, the younger man rolling his hips up with every descent, destroying himself further.

The squelch and slap of skin to skin was audible, loud, and so, so sexy.

Her fingertip flicked the bottom of Jungkook’s chin, smirk on those plush lips now smeared with dark lipstick. There was something erotic about the mess though, her wild hair bouncing with every thrust, faint dark smudges now on his lips and Jungkook’s panting mouth.

“Aren’t you the perfect little fucktoy?” she teased.

There was a tension in her jaw, indicating that she was clenching around the younger man’s cock.

“A-Ah, just f-for you, noona…”

She frowned playfully, cocking a disbelieving eyebrow. “Hmm, I don’t know, sweet boys always have sweet tongues and you’ve already proven yours sometimes says misleading things…”

Jungkook whimpered. “P-Please, I s-said I was sorry… I m-mean it…”

Yoongi liked this begging, this desperate tremble vibrating from that silvery voice.

“I would n-never do something l-like this…”

Jungkook had such a handsome face, even with his cheeks flushed red and his composure falling apart.

“Unless it was y-you… and Yoongi-hyung, oooh, God…”

He raised his eyebrows, making eye contact with her.

She smirked back, dangerous and perfect.

“I-I can’t...”

“Yes, you can, Jungkook,” you murmured, arms around his neck, his arms shaking as he held himself up, moaning as you stroked his back, Yoongi behind you, still fully dressed, kneading your breasts, your nipples poking out between his long fingers and giving Jungkook the visual of your cleavage and the hard nubs poking straight out at him.

He groaned, hazy brown orbs returning to your face.

“Please, wanna make you cum with my cock so b-bad…”

You began to rock your hips again, the brief intermission stalling his orgasm over, and now he was moaning again, squirming at the oversensitivity and strained by the denial, your pulsing pussy keeping him hard until you built the pace up again, pushing him to the edge once more.

“Look at you,” you murmured, caressing his neck and back, fingers splayed over his hot skin. “You dream about this, Jungkook? Dream about hyung letting you be noona’s fuck slave?”

His teeth sunk into his lower lip, whining in his chest.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Shh…”

Your fingers slid up into his hair, cradling his head, smacking your ass down onto his thighs, tightening around his cock. Jungkook moaned into your face helplessly, shuddering at your sensual gesture contrasted by your fierce thrusts.

“I wanted you too,” you whispered hotly, breathing in his clean scent. “You always looked so innocent. Made me want to mess you up every time I saw that handsome, nervous face of yours.”

Your grip tensed around his head, lower half really giving it to him now, bouncing on his cock, letting his thickness and his hardness fill you up over and over again, Yoongi pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers, following your rhythm.

“It’s not going to be enough for him, you know,” Yoongi chuckled darkly behind you. “He’s going to come crawling back, begging for more.”

Jungkook bit his lip again, looking from you to Yoongi, already guilty.

You leaned forehead, placing a light kiss on that mole below his lower lip.

“I love it when you beg for me, Jungkook,” you purred.

You could feel it, arousal flaring at your own words, already close and getting closer, pussy pulsating around that satisfying girth.

“Are you going to be patient?” you teased, tugging at his hair, savoring the strained moans from Jungkook’s throat. “Are you going to wait on your knees and watch Yoongi fuck me until he’s satisfied and then come to take his place and show me that you can be good for me too?”

You felt Jungkook’s cock twitch inside you, already enthralled with the idea.

“Y-Yes, noona, p-please…”

Fuck.

You dug your nails into his scalp and moaned deeply, staring into those glazed-over brown orbs, drugged on his lust for you.

“You’re so obedient, fuck, makes me want to cum on this pretty cock of yours and reward you.”

Yoongi pinched your nipples and tugged on them.

The spark collided through you, gasping as your orgasm seized your senses and took over, your eyes rolling back as the powerful jolts made your walls spasm, tension so high that it felt as if your nerves were vibrating, Jungkook’s name tumbling from your lips with a hiss that turned into a groan in unison with his, his overstimulated cock jerking and twitching from the brutal massage of your orgasm, the condom swelling inside you from spurts of his own.

The scent of sex was so strong that even Yoongi moaned, squeezing your breasts roughly.

“F-Fuck…”

You inhaled sharply, feeling Yoongi’s arms wrap around you, nuzzling your neck.

“Don’t I have such good ideas?”

You grinned, seeing Jungkook’s euphoric expression before he pitched forward and leaned his forehead against your other shoulder, panting for breath. His exhale was warm, drifting over your racing heart and heating your heated skin.

“Yes, Yoongi,” you chuckled, stroking his soft blue hair and Jungkook’s sweaty black hair. “You’re a genius.”

"Jungkook-ah!"

"Sorry, Jimin-ssi, I can't–" He clenched his jaw, stifling the noise threatening to escape from his throat. "I can't hang out today. I have a deadline for work."

"Aw, that's okay Jungkookie. Do you want hyung to bring you some dinner? I can stop by!"

"I already ate, ah, just now. Thanks anyway."

"Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. Don't forget your hyungs! You work too much."

Jeon Jungkook made an affirmative grumble. "Talk to you later."

An elegant finger reached over and hung up the call. The same hand lifted his phone from his ear and placed it back on the nightstand. Jungkook wasn't able to hold the phone himself.

He was handcuffed to the headboard.

"A-Ah, noona, fuck!"

Now that he was off the phone, she turned the toy back on, making him yelp and squirm. He whimpered, thighs shaking as his prostrate was assaulted with harsh vibrations, the connected silicone ring choking his cock and balls, flush against the base of both.

He moaned her name helplessly, looking down to see her laying between his legs, jerking forward with every smack of Min Yoongi's hips. His hard, dark red cock was sticking straight up right in front of her face. She heated it with her calm exhale, smiling at his shuddering whine.

"P-Please, touch me, o-o-oh, fuuuuuuuck..."

Yoongi smacked her ass with his open palm, making Jungkook moan at the sight of her ass bouncing from his hyung's dick.

"F-Fuck, please, noona, hyung, please, I wanna c-cum so b-bad..."

She increased the vibration setting and patted his thigh, returning to casually fucking Yoongi as he lost his mind from the jarring, rough pleasure, flexing his core and ass to make his cock jerk and swing in the air, unable to touch himself because of the handcuffs.

He loved it.

Jungkook loved every second of the torture crafted just for him.

"What a good boy for his noona."

Jungkook could only moan and whimper in response.

"Mm? Are you a good boy for her? Lying to Jimin so you can spend more time with my lovely woman?"

The younger man whimpered, biting his lip.

“H-Hyung…”

Yoongi smirked as Jungkook’s eyes rolled back, mouth open, gasping wail falling from his mouth as her tongue circled the head of his cock, lapping gently at the sensitive skin. The handcuffs rattled, Jungkook’s hands gripping the chain, tattoos standing out on his arm from his tense muscles. Yoongi watched her hands side up those toned thighs, up shaking hips, up to that slim waist, then drag back down, nails pricking at that skin, creating indents and red lines, visible, wet, glistening tongue toying with the throbbing cock in front of her.

He felt his own twitch inside her. Her muscles clenched around him tightly in response.

She lifted her head, gripping Jungkook’s hips and forcing him down on the bed, him whining and pleading for her to do more, but all three of them knew the way this was going to go and the one in the handcuffs wasn’t calling the shots.

“You keep coming back, Jungkook, and it’s gonna ruin sex for you.”

Her hand slid up his abused cock and balls, playing with them and rubbing the overstimulated skin as Yoongi increased his pace in power and speed, fingers spread out on her hips and sinking in, mirrored by the way she removed her hand from Jungkook’s length and grabbed his hips again, cocking her head, looking down at Jungkook.

“You keep flying high and you’re not going to want to come down.”

Jungkook’s black hair was all over his forehead, messy and sweaty, shudders leaving his swollen lips. The light caught the glint of the silver metal piercing on his trembling eyebrow.

She leaned down, hands crawling up his body, digging her nails in, scratching him up, and Yoongi hissed at the shifted angle, deeper now and more intense, her hair cascading down her shoulders, the sweet scent wafting up, sweet, warm, spicy, his favorite scents in the world melding together.

Sex.

Perfume.

And his woman, a curator of the little, beautiful death.

She chuckled, taunting and playful, placing her forearms on Jungkook’s chest, pushing back against Yoongi and using the other male’s body as leverage, poised in front of Jungkook’s fallen composure, one hand lifting and tracing his lips, enticing that pink tongue to sneak out, begging for a taste.

She shoved her fingers into his mouth, humming approvingly as Jungkook began to suck on them noisily, moaning around her fingers as the rhythm escalated, louder and louder, squeezing his length tighter so Yoongi had to thrust harder, growling in his chest, firmly gripping her ass, faster, rougher, her fingers sliding in further, the wet sounds of tongue and lips adding to the symphony.

Her words the crescendo.

“The jetset life is gonna kill you, Jungkook.”

The fire flared to an unbearable tension and Yoongi hissed her name, clenching his jaw and scratching her back hard, causing her to let out a long, drawn-out moan, clenching around his entire length and he came, cock jerking against her punishing walls, shooting his orgasm into the condom, his fingers sliding down her back, groaning satisfyingly when she matched him, her cum gushing out and sticking to his crotch and thighs, sweet purr of his name drifting out of her lips, her fingers slipping from Jungkook’s mouth, shiny with saliva and wiping it all over his chin.

“O-o-oh, fuuuuuuuck, please…”

And she didn’t forget, not even in her ecstasy, her hand wrapping around Jungkook’s neck, choking him strongly, driving him to the edge.

It took seconds.

Your lips curved into a smirk, Jungkook’s shaking, half-lidded brown orbs saturated with lust, vibrations and visuals and now the loss of blood leaving him breathless, lightheaded, and at your mercy.

Open mouth, gasping out your name.

Then he threw his head back, airlessly screaming, handcuffs rattling, muscles standing out all over his body from the searing tension, tattoos glistening with sweat, eyes rolling back, hips jolting up and shooting cum all over your stomach and his, orgasm so intense that he arched his back and jammed his cock between your bodies, your hand releasing him, Jungkook sobbing at the relief of his aching length still flinching and twitching, the hot head of his cock throbbing against your skin, still dribbling out hot cum in between your bodies, thick and slick.

You slithered on top of him, smearing it everywhere.

“Oh, God, n… noona…”

“Asleep already?”

You petted Jungkook’s head, smoothing his hair. “He had an eventful night.”

Yoongi chuckled. “He asked for it.”

Jungkook scooted closer to your heat, burying his nose in your chest, inhaling deeply.

Yoongi kissed the top of your head affectionately and you reached for his hand, running your fingertips over his knuckles. He placed it on your bare hip, tracing his marks on you.

“So, next time…”

“You’re already planning next time, huh?” You turned your head to look at those mischievous, cat-like eyes shrouded by strands of wispy light blue.

Yoongi ticked a brow. “Do you think he’s going to stop? I made him wait a whole month from the first time to this time and he gave me puppy eyes every chance he got.”

You shook your head with a smile, turning back to run your fingers through Jungkook’s black hair. “I wonder how you survived.”

“I looked away.”

You snickered and lifted Yoongi’s hand, pressing his fingertips to your lips.

“I would make him look away from me,” you murmured, low and dangerous.

“Hmm, then I’ll let you decide when next time will be.”

“Not counting tomorrow morning, right?”

“Of course.”

You felt Jungkook’s lips press onto your skin, a soft kiss inviting you and Yoongi to destroy him more.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #bts smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jungkook x you #yoongi x you #yoonkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

389 notes · View notes

warriorsbutnotreally · 3 years ago

Text

Why Squirrelflight And Finleap Are NOT The Same - Discussion

I have a lot of opinions on this, do bare with me

because I can say now

if you put Squirrelflight asking Bramblestar about kits on the same level as Finleap pressuring Twigbranch

Assume I don't like you

Unless you have a legitimate reason to compare a domestic abuse victim to someone who was actively manipulating his mate to consider having his babies so that he felt 'like he could stay with her', I don't care what you have to say

Because there's a big difference and it's a little thing called context and power dynamics

That being said

disclaimer that I am aro/ace, so this is coming from the lens of someone who doesn't understand romance but knows a bad situation when I see one

///

tw; mentions of abuse and manipulation

Let's start with Finleap

As apprentices he has a cute friendship with Twigbranch and it's implied the two like each other as a little more than friends, though Twig doesn't seem ready for that commitment just yet

We first see the topic of kits come up in this conversation.

“I know.” Finleap spoke softly. “It’s scary having so much responsibility. And these are our first apprentices. But it’s okay for us to make mistakes and it’s okay for them to make mistakes. We’re learning together.” “But I’m supposed to know what to do.” A lump sat in Twigbranch’s throat like a stone. “Why?” Finleap wove around her and stopped as he caught her eye. “You’re a great warrior, Twigbranch. And you’re kind. You don’t have to stop being kind just because you’re a mentor. Trust your instincts. Push Flypaw when she needs pushing, but encourage her too. You must know how good a little encouragement can feel when you’re facing something new and difficult.” There was warmth in his gaze that touched Twigbranch’s heart. He really cared whether she’d be a good mentor. He wanted her to succeed. She purred and touched her nose to his. “Besides,” he went on, “mentoring will teach us patience. Imagine what good parents we’ll be when we have kits.” When we have kits! Twigbranch pulled away. Finleap’s gaze was misty. Was he really thinking about having kits already? They weren’t even mates yet. Twigbranch wasn’t ready to be tied to the nursery. She was barely ready to think about having a mate. She changed the subject. “Let’s check the border.” She didn’t want to hurt Finleap’s feelings. “Flypaw! Snappaw! This way!” she called to the apprentices, scanning the bracken until they appeared, then turned and headed along the trail toward ShadowClan’s border.

It's important to note the obvious negative reaction she has, even outside of her own thoughts. She was perfect fine with touching him until kits are mentioned. She's also quick to change the topic.

It's also implied here and in a couple other places that they hadn't even had this conversation before, as it's sprung onto her without any warning.

And if you don't believe me, consider this paragraph -

His confidence soothed her. He seemed so sure of himself. Even when he’d been pulling Puddleshine free, he’d known he could do it. He was sure they’d be mates too and that they’d have kits one day. And the thought didn’t scare him. Anxiety wormed beneath Twigbranch’s pelt. Then why does it scare me?

Twigbranch isn't ready for kits and the fact Finleap is shows that they're not seeing eye to eye on the issue. He's confident he wants to be a father, but she's not sure she wants to be a mother just yet.

He wants her to be on the same page, even if she isn't ready.

“I like it here, but I don’t feel like I belong.” Finleap glanced at his paws. “Which is why I want to start a family. Here, in ThunderClan. Then I’ll feel part of the Clan. I’ll feel like I have something here that is truly my own. I want to have kits.” “Kits?” Twigbranch’s mouth was so dry, she could hardly speak. Finleap watched her, his gaze expectant. “But you know how I feel about kits,” Twigbranch blurted. “I’m not ready. I want to concentrate on mentoring. I’ve told you all this.” “I know.” Finleap held her gaze. “But I need you to think about it again. I have to feel I belong here—that you want me. If you don’t ever want to have kits with me, I’m not sure I’ll ever feel at home in ThunderClan.”

"If you don’t ever want to have kits with me, I’m not sure I’ll ever feel at home in ThunderClan."

That's a really shitty thing to say to someone especially your bestfriend / girlfriend

"I'm worthless here unless you give up part of your young adult life to providing me with children"

This isn't even a Fernsong situation where he offers to live in the nursery when she's able to go back out. No. He wants her in the nursery with her kits.

Next time we see these two

She glanced at Finleap, wishing he would say something encouraging. “I’m glad Bramblestar picked us. What if it’s the last chance I get to see Violetshine and Hawkwing?” Please tell me everything will be okay. “I thought kin wasn’t important.” There was bitterness in his mew. Twigbranch flinched. Since he’d told her he wanted to have kits, Finleap had been distant. She always seemed to be the one to start conversations, while he only replied in short, vague phrases. Her heart ached, but what could she do? Promise to be his mate? Give up mentoring Flypaw so that she could have his kits? Anger pricked at her belly. He was pressuring her into something she didn’t want yet. But she loved him, and she could understand that he was acting out of unhappiness. If only he could find his place in ThunderClan. She’d planned to keep stalling—refusing to give him a straight answer—to give him time to adjust. But what if SkyClan left? It would force him to make a decision. Clan or kin? She changed the subject. “I hope Reedclaw has recovered from her cough.” Finleap didn’t respond.

Now Finleap is giving her the cold shoulder, being such a piss-ant about her not wanting kits that he's not even willing to comfort her when both their families might be being chased away.

And moments later

Twigbranch was unnerved. Sparkpelt had been her mentor. Had she always wished SkyClan would leave? Why didn’t I realize? “Do you think the other Clans feel the same way?” Finleap shrugged. “If they do, then SkyClan will have to leave.” Her mouth grew dry. Hearing Finleap say those words out loud made her realize that she hadn’t truly thought it was possible until now. But he was right—SkyClan would have no choice but to leave if none of the Clans were on their side. “I really might never see Hawkwing and Violetshine again.” Finleap didn’t speak. Didn’t he care? “Will you go back with them?” She stared at him, her heart pounding. “I don’t know.” He avoided her gaze. Was she going to lose her kin and her love at the same time? What would be left if they went? Feeling sick, Twigbranch followed her Clanmates to the tree-bridge.

Not only does he voice her fears out loud, but he doesn't deny that he'd stay with her if she isn't with him. This is a manipulation tactic and a very shitty and terrible one that that for him to use again the girl he allegedly loves.

At the end of the gathering -

“SkyClan!” Leafstar called to her Clanmates from the long grass. Harrybrook and Macgyver hurried after her. “We must go,” Hawkwing mewed huskily. He turned away. Twigbranch gazed frantically at Violetshine. “Is this the last time I’ll see you?” “I don’t know.” Violetshine touched her muzzle to Twigbranch’s. Her breath was warm in the chilly night air. “It’s up to Leafstar now.” “Good-bye.” Twigbranch could hardly speak. Her throat tightened as Violetshine pulled away and headed after Hawkwing. As she turned back to her Clanmates, she saw Finleap. He was watching Plumwillow and Sandynose disappear into the grass. She hurried to his side. “Did you say good-bye?” He didn’t answer. The sorrow in his gaze pierced her heart. “Are you planning to go with them if they leave?” She felt numb. He stared at her. “I love you, Twigbranch. But if you don’t want to have kits, I should go with my kin. At least I’ll be somewhere I belong, instead of chasing a dream that might never come true.”

His wording is honestly just terrible.

His dream with Twigbranch is only to have children with her. He may say he loves her, yeah, but according to himself, he's willing to leave her forever just because she's isn't committed to the idea of having babies with him.

I want to say this now

If someone you like is willing to ditch you because you don't want to raise a family, be it at the moment or ever? Leave them. They're not worth it.

You shouldn't feel obligated to have a family with someone.

After SkyClan leaves, Finleap decides to stay in ThunderClan.

Of course, his pity party isn't over.

In the days since SkyClan had left, Finleap had seemed uneasy. They’d talked after the Gathering and he’d decided to stay in ThunderClan. Twigbranch had been relieved. Of course Finleap was upset at losing his kin, and at first she’d tried to be supportive, but it was like he was clinging to the loss. He’d started to act as though he’d made the wrong choice. He’d begun to eat alone and go to his nest early instead of sharing tongues with the Clan. He was acting like an outsider. Frustration itched beneath Twigbranch’s pelt, growing stronger each day. How could Finleap ever feel like part of ThunderClan if he didn’t try to fit in? At least he’d stopped talking about having kits. Had he really accepted that they wouldn’t have kits until they were both ready? Twigbranch wasn’t sure the matter was settled. Part of her wondered if Finleap wished he’d left with SkyClan after all.

This is where communication between the two is an issue.

Of course Finleap is going to be upset that his family is, as far as he knows, gone forever.

However

He never once clarifies that he's only upset about his kin to Twigbranch, his girlfriend, making his breakdown seem torn between missing his family and not liking the idea that the girl he likes isn't ready to have babies yet.

Not only that, Twigbranch has a huge point here.

Finleap claims kits will make him feel like he belongs in ThunderClan. However, outside of Twig and the idea of kits, he hasn't done much to try to bond with anyone in the Clan. Even outside of the conversation about kits, he mostly interacts with his apprentice unless he's out helping someone.

He's not focused on making friends, or being a great ThunderClan warrior. His only focus is having a family with Twigbranch and nothing else.

Granted we don't see his POV, but we do his actions and what he says to the cats he apparently cares about.

Her talk with Tree expresses more of her concerns with her relationship while they're out trying to find SkyClan.

Twigbranch followed his gaze. “I can’t imagine having kits,” she mewed guiltily. “Finleap wants to already, but I’m not ready to give up being a warrior.” “You don’t have to give it up,” Tree reminded her. “Queens only stay in the nursery until their kits are weaned, don’t they?” “I guess.” Was she being selfish, wanting to focus on herself? “But I don’t want to worry about that yet. I like being a mentor. I’m learning so much every day.” “You’re young,” he mewed gently. “There’s no rush.”

For the first time she's being told that it's okay that she doesn't need to feel ready and that there's nothing wrong with taking her time on deciding what she wants.

Of course this leads to-

“Well done!” As Twigbranch purred admiringly, she saw Finleap padding toward them. He was carrying a bedraggled sparrow. It was skinny and looked more like crow-food than fresh- kill. He stopped beside Flypaw and laid it on the ground. “I was thinking that we could share this . . .” He eyed the fat rabbit lying, half-eaten, between Twigbranch and Tree. “But I guess you don’t need it.” Anger hardened his mew. Twigbranch shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize you were bringing me food. Tree just offered and I was hungry.” Finleap wasn’t listening. He was still staring at the rabbit. “I guess he knows where the best prey lives. This used to be his home. It’s easy to hunt when you know the territory.” Tree stared at Finleap coldly. “I could catch a rabbit anywhere.” “Did you used to catch rabbits to impress Violetshine?” Finleap mewed pointedly. “Or have you forgotten Violetshine?”

Immediately he's jealous of Tree because he was thoughtful enough to share a rabbit. And Warriors has shown us that there's nothing inherently romantic about sharing prey. It happens all the time and not specifically between mates or two courting cats.

It's a common social interaction between Clan cats.

But Finleap's acting like he caught them sharing a nest.

Tree had been hard on him, but Finleap had picked the fight. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, even though he was acting like a fox-heart. She hurried across the cave. Finleap was sniffing at the bedding, his pelt bristling. “Oh, so you can tear yourself away from Tree?” Twigbranch blinked at him. “What are you talking about? Tree loves Violetshine!” He glanced at her angrily and padded out of the cave.

He accuses her of liking Tree and when she denies, he walks away.

She chases after him and then this argument goes down

He stopped as he reached a swath of heather and turned on her. “I bet you don’t even want to find SkyClan! You’re probably happy to see Violetshine gone now that you’ve made Tree notice you.” Shock froze Twigbranch. “Do you have you bees in your brain?” She stared at him. “How could you say something like that? I would never betray my sister. And I’d never make Tree try to notice me. I told you! He’s just a friend. And he wouldn’t do that to Violetshine, either!” “You haven’t left his side since we left camp,” Finleap snarled. “I’m leading the patrol, and he knows the way!” Twigbranch snapped. “Every time I look at you, your muzzle’s in his ear.” “We were just talking! I’ve got to talk to some cat. Ever since SkyClan left the forest, I feel like I can’t talk to you.” Grief pressed in her belly. “I don’t know why you stayed with me. You’ve made it pretty clear that you wish you’d left with SkyClan.” “I stayed because I love you!" Finleap spat. “You’ve hardly looked at me. If that’s love, I don’t want it!” She lashed her tail. “You don’t know what love is!” He glared at her accusingly. “Of course I do!” Why was he being so mean? “I love you!” “Not enough to have my kits.” She stared at him, wind tugging at her fur. “Is that it? If I won’t have your kits, you don’t want me?” “I want you to love me enough to have kits.” Hurt sharpened his gaze.

Again what he's doing here is shitty and he's being jealous of another tom talking to his girlfriend, despite this tom just being a friend, all because he's being nice to her

Not a good sign

And, of course, the apology just sucks. It comes out of nowhere and it doesn't feel like he earned the right to be forgiven

he hurt Twigbranch, made her doubt what she wanted, and treated her like shit

`“But I thought you loved me.” He sounded surprised. “You told Violetshine you loved me very much.” “I do,” she mewed softly. “But not enough to have your kits. Not now. Maybe not ever.” Finleap glanced at his paws. “Let’s forget about kits, huh?” She blinked in surprise. “Forget?” “I was wrong, Twigbranch. Seeing SkyClan again made me realize . . . however much I love my kin, I love you more. I don’t want you to have kits if you don’t want to. I can live without them. But I can’t live without you.” Twigbranch stared at him. “Do you mean that?” “Yes.” Finleap’s eyes shimmered with love. “I’ve been so wrapped up in feeling hurt, I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you—or how much I was hurting our relationship.”

Now, not every character needs a grand realization

But

I don't think just a simple "I'm sorry" makes up for how he made her feel and the harm he did to their relationship and the fact it took this long for him to realize that his girlfriend his her own cat and not just a kit-making factory.

And this is one part of a very long story

Now let's talk about Squirrelflight

Specifically Squirrelflight's Hope, but I will also make references to Omen Of The Stars, as that's when her worse breakup with Brambleclaw/star happened where

may I remind you

he ignored her and treated her like garbage for many moons and when he thought there was a chance she might die was when he finally decided to make amends for her horrible crime of

*checks notes*

protecting her sister's kits from a system that punishes not only halfClan kittens, but the kits of medicine cats

"but she lied" I hear you cry

and to that I say

and?

Bramblestar lied about much worse things than where three kits came from and, may I remind you, he trained in cat hell with his very obviously evil dad who he had been judged for being the son of.

And cats lie in Warriors all the time and it's very rare that they're punished for it

and no, saying you find her annoying also doesn't justify anything

The punishment doesn't match the 'crime' here.

Let's get into Squirrelflight's Hope

The first time kits are brought up is by Bramblestar, him talking about it in a negative light.

... She didn’t feel old yet, but it had been a long time since she’d felt the rush of excitement she used to feel in her first moons as a warrior, whenever she was picked to go on patrol or attend a Gathering. She pressed closer to Bramblestar. “Do you miss being young?” He shrugged. “I miss being irresponsible. Back then, the only thing we had to worry about was our next hunt. That was before we became leader and deputy, and before we had kits to look after.”

Obviously, Squirrelflight doesn't agree there

Squirrelflight felt a pang of longing. Sparkpelt and Alderheart were grown, and she’d never had a chance to know their littermates, Juniperkit and Dandelionkit, who had died. She’d been hoping to have a new litter by now—tiny kits to nurture and love. But they’d had no luck. “Having kits didn’t make me feel old. I liked the responsibility. It’ll be good to feel that way again.” She glanced hopefully at Bramblestar. When he didn’t comment, she prompted him. “Don’t you think?” “Of course.” He didn’t look at her. Anxiety prickled beneath her pelt. She’d wanted him to sound more enthusiastic about kits. “Let’s pretend we’re young again now. It’s almost like we’re sneaking out of camp.” Squirrelflight kept her mew light. “Half the Clan are already in their nests, and the rest will be asleep by the time we get home.” “I wish we could.” Was that a sigh in Bramblestar’s mew? “But we can’t be late for the meeting. And we have to go straight back to camp afterward; Birchfall and Lionblaze will be waiting to find out what happened.”

It's important to note now that Squirrelflight wants to feel young and wants to feel important, something that she doesn't feel now as an older molly.

Things have been serious lately and she wants to lighten the mood, but this is brushed off by Bramblestar.

It should be noted that the leaders - and not Squirrelflight - are talking about how their Clans need territory because they have expecting queens. Squirrelflight has an internal reaction, yes, but doesn't say anything.

Bramblestar's also being a hardass here and Squirrelflight does have a good idea, but he's quick to make her feel bad about it.

“Might be.” Bramblestar’s tail twitched angrily. “Or it might be overrun with snakes, or dogs, or foxes. Warriors might die thanks to your idea.”

There was no sign the gathering was leader only. If it was, why bring non-leaders? And everyone had been having an open discussion about possible ideas.

But Bramblestar shames Squirrelflight for trying to be helpful.

And of course, we start reaching this scene

“But we’d all have bigger territories if SkyClan moved.” Squirrelflight hurried after him. “And you heard Harestar and Leafstar. The Clans are growing. There’ll be more kits by newleaf, more mouths to feed, more apprentices to train—” “More kits!” Bramblestar lashed his tail. “Is that all you think about now?”

She's not talking about her own kits. She's literally referencing something previously brought up by two other Clan leaders. However, Bramblestar turns this against her, lashing out about an already dead conversation that didn't last.

A conversation that he had brought up both the first time and this time.

His words stung like claw marks. She watched him disappear into the grass, her chest tightening. “Don’t you think about it?” She pushed after him, but he was already hurrying ahead. He was on the tree-bridge by the time she caught up to him. She followed him over it and jumped onto the far shore. She fell in beside Bramblestar, breathless as she tried to keep up. “Don’t you think about kits, Bramblestar?” “I have kits,” he snapped. “Alderheart and Sparkpelt? They’re grown up now!” “I know!” Bramblestar didn’t look at her. “They’re old enough to look after themselves. Why are you so desperate to be responsible for new lives? Isn’t being deputy enough?” “It should be, but it’s not.” Squirrelflight felt panic welling. “I’m getting older with each season. One day I won’t be able to have more kits. I just want another litter before it’s too late.”

Not only did he run off after bring this conversation back, but he continues to shame Squirrelflight after he stops running, implying that she's not content being deputy.

She's worried because she's scared that she's getting older.

The fear of growing older is a common fear and brushing it off as someone being irrational isn't fair to the person.

and to get to the scene where she's "like Finleap" according to those people out there with pebbles instead of brains.

“I know.” Bramblestar sounded weary. “And of course I want kits. Just not as much as you do.” Squirrelflight stopped and stared after him. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

She's not asking this to guilt trip or manipulate. We'd be seeing signs of that way before this question.

Instead this is given the context of being asked in desperation.

I remind you that Bramblestar had spent an entire arc being harsh and cold to her, making her feel small, and he had been making her feel small again, berating her and having her question her ideas.

He's being a piece of shit and she's scared that this is going to turn into all those moons of OotS again.

Even if she was trying to, the power dynamic isn't in her favor. Not only is he older than her, having been made a warrior before she was even born, he's the leader. He has 9 long lives ahead of him.

As shown here she's painfully aware of it, too

Bramblestar turned, his eyes sparking with exasperation. “Yes! But I am responsible for our Clan. And if the other Clans are planning to start up more trouble with SkyClan, I need to focus on that. I don’t have as much energy as I used to. I’m getting older too.” “No, you’re not!” Anger flared in Squirrelflight’s chest. “You have more lives than me—” She broke off as a realization washed over her like ice water. Was that why he didn’t care about kits? He had plenty of time to have kits in the future, maybe even with another mate, when she was dead. The thought made her feel sick. Bramblestar’s next litter might have a mother who wasn’t her. She stared at him, unable to speak.

She doesn't put it past Bramblestar to move on after she's gone, despite his older age and that was also proof in Bramblestar's Storm, where he was actively interested in courting Jessy.

Her fears here are valid. Not only is she older, but she only has one life to live. He doesn't.

And he's perfectly in the right to not want anymore kits

However, his attitude and behavior to his mate is absolutely terrible and instead of talking to her, he's belittling her and making her feel bad for wanting things.

And for having different opinions at that

His gaze shimmered suddenly as though he saw her pain. “I’m sorry.” He hurried to her side and pressed his muzzle against her cheek. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I was angry. I felt you weren’t on my side at the meeting. I was trying to protect SkyClan.” “So was I!” She pulled away indignantly. “I was trying to find a solution that would keep the peace.” “Maybe you’re right. But that isn’t the point. You’re my deputy.” His tail twitched. “You’re supposed to back me up in front of the other Clans. We need to look united. You know how quickly Tigerstar smells weakness, and how he exploits it.”

Then why make her deputy again?

“And you did the ShadowClan border patrol.” Squirrelflight’s tail-tip was twitching, though she kept her voice low. “And yesterday you trekked all the way over to RiverClan and risked your life rescuing that kittypet.” “So?” Bramblestar began to feel frustrated. “I’m fine. It’s not a problem.” “It’ll be a problem for the rest of us if our Clan leader collapses from exhaustion.” Bramblestar heaved a long sigh. “Remind me why I chose you to be my deputy,” he muttered through his teeth. “Because I won’t let you boss me around,” Squirrelflight retorted, her green eyes flashing. True, Bramblestar thought ruefully.

Oh yeah, cause he doesn't want a yes-man deputy

Or maybe he wants a deputy who only challenges him when it's convenient and/or doesn't make him look like an idiot.

Which is kinda

not great

“It looks a lot like weakness when a deputy disagrees with her leader in public.” Bramblestar shifted his paws. “You should know better! You should have discussed your idea with me in private and we could have taken it to the other Clans together.” “It might have been too late by then.” Squirrelflight paused. She didn’t want to argue. And besides, the issue with SkyClan wasn’t what was worrying her now. “I’m sorry I spoke up without talking to you first. But is that really why you said you don’t want to have kits?” Bramblestar gazed at her, his eyes round. “I’m sorry if I made it sound that way. I do want to have kits with you.” “Really?” Her heart lifted. “Yes. If that’s what you want.” Squirrelflight stared at him. There was resignation in his eyes. Grief twisted her belly as he stared back at her blankly. She turned away. I want you to want it too.

Here's where the argument that Squirrelflight, in any way, is equal to Finleap falls apart the most.

She doesn't need to be told that he doesn't feel the same.

She can see it in the way he acts.

She knows he doesn't and she lets the conversation die. Yes, she still thinks about how Bramblestar may move on and have a new litter after she's gone, but she doesn't talk about it, instead keeping her thoughts to herself, not wanting to rock their unstable relationship any more than it has been.

Most of this book has Squirrelflight second guessing what she wants and believing that maybe she was in the wrong for talking openly about a possible idea when everyone else had been doing it.

There's literally a scene where she's having what, in my opinion, feels similar to the start of a near panic attack where her thoughts spiral into a dark pit

But it hadn’t been just the kits he’d been upset about. She’d contradicted him in front of the others. But they were close to fighting! Squirrelflight flicked her tail indignantly. And I have a right to my own opinion. Her plan for SkyClan could be the perfect solution. She couldn’t have held her tongue even if she’d wanted to. Bramblestar had implied that a good deputy would have kept quiet. She shook out her pelt. Was that what Bramblestar thought—that she wasn’t a good deputy? Hurt sharpened its claws on her heart once again. She closed her eyes. Chasing thoughts like this wasn’t going to help her feel better.

The way Bramblestar spoke to her struck so deep that Squirrelflight feels selfish for having her own wants, as seen by her talking to her sister.

Squirrelflight let out her breath. Never mind the awkwardness—Leafpool will understand. And she needed reassurance. “He said he doesn’t want more kits as much as I do.” Leafpool’s eyes rounded with sympathy. “Oh, Squirrelflight.” Squirrelflight nodded. “I know. It’s—” Selfish of me, she was about to say. Because I’ve already mothered two litters. But Leafpool didn’t let her finish. “That must have hurt,” Leafpool said softly, dipping her head. “I know how much you want another litter.” “Bramblestar says he’s getting old and that the Clan is enough responsibility.” She trailed into silence, the memory of the argument stinging her afresh. “I’m sure he’d love kits if you had them,” Leafpool mewed. “But I can see how he finds the thought overwhelming.” Squirrelflight blinked at her. “Do you think I’m being unreasonable, wanting more kits? I know I . . .” “No, of course not. But you already have Alderheart and Sparkpelt. And, in a way, Jayfeather and Lionblaze.” Squirrelflight nodded, but her heart ached. “They don’t need me anymore.”

The power dynamic between Bramblestar and Squirrelflight aren't fair and, again, he's in his right to not want any more kits right now

but the way he spoke and made her feel like her wanting kits at all was terrible and that she should feel bad isn't the way to handle a relationship where two people have two different wants

And for more proof that Bramblestar doesn't make his deputy, who is also his mate, feel important

we have this line

And as far as kits went . . . Leafpool didn’t understand what it felt like not to be needed. Leafpool was needed every day. The Clan depended on her, sometimes for their lives. It was different for Squirrelflight. Even as deputy, she was just one warrior among many.

She's made to feel like another warrior, a replaceable cog in a machine, when Bramblestar had never been made to feel like that while he was deputy

In fact, in Squirrelflight's own words

"Who does Brambleclaw think he is, treating me like I'm still wet behind the ears? Toms are so much trouble! You don't know how lucky you are, Leafpool, not having to worry about things like that. Well I know there was Crowfeather..."

After becoming deputy his confidence and ego went up and he made it known that he wasn't just another cat

He was ThunderClan's deputy

But he never allows his mate to feel like that

In fact, he actively puts her down

He starts making up rules just to keep her in place and lashing out when she tries to fight back. Even when Squirrelflight is trying to be happy that Sparkpelt is expecting kits, Bramblestar brings up their conversation.

Yes, Squirrelflight did feel a little envious, she felt guilty about feeling that way and just wanted to be happy for her daughter

but he was the one who brought up how she wanted kits and he didn't, further making her feel shameful

he didn't even aid in comforting his daughter when her pregnancy brought pain after he sparked the fight with Squirrelflight. He was just watching as Squirrelflight helped their daughter, Squilf being the one to talk to her gently when she was worried about the intense craps she was feeling

When Sunrise, one of the Sisters, is actively dying, he refuses to allow anyone to help her until the medicine cats talk to StarClan and when they get an unclear message, he's more than willing to let her die

When Leafpool refuses to allow this, he actively challenges the medicine cat in front of the entire Clan and Squirrelflight snaps to her sister's defense once more.

Squirrelflight held her ground. “I have to do what I think is right.” “Even if it costs you your Clan?” “ThunderClan is stronger than that,” Squirrelflight spat. “At least I hope it is. If our future depends on letting a cat die, then it’s not the Clan I thought it was.” Bramblestar stared at her. Uncertainty glittered in his gaze. “Why are you doing this to me?” His words pierced her heart. “You’re my deputy. You’re my mate. You’re supposed to support me.” “Being a good deputy doesn’t mean blindly following orders.” Squirrelflight didn’t move. “It means standing up for what I believe, and this time, I believe I’m right.” The camp seemed to swim around her. She knew she was hurting him. But she had to convince him. As the Clan watched her silently, their eyes round in the moonlight, Bramblestar backed away.

Bramblestar tries to manipulate her and that's where the big power dynamic comes in

he's the leader

he's older

he had gone out of his way many times to make her feel small and weak compared to him, even imposing reckless rules just to try to keep her where he wants her

he wants to use her emotions against her

and when she refuses to let him hurt her more

he strikes her with more sharp and hurtful words

Around him, the Clan got to their paws. Mousewhisker and Twigbranch helped Tempest and Hawk lift Sunrise. Leafpool nosed her way into the medicine den. Bramblestar narrowed his eyes, his face like stone. Squirrelflight tried to drag her gaze from his, her heart cracking as he curled his lip. “StarClan wanted unity among the Clans,” he snarled. “Thanks to you, there’s not even unity in ThunderClan anymore.”

“Thanks to you, there’s not even unity in ThunderClan anymore.”

because she didn't want an needless death, he blames her for the discourse he created

this is only a portion of the Squirrelflight mistreatment in this book, but it's all that I'm going to mention since it deals with the topic at hand

and of course we know she decides she doesn't need more kits after all

but what I want to say is

these two stories aren't even

Finleap is manipulative and tries to make Twigbranch feel like she needs to have his kits to prove she loves him or to keep him around

Squirrelflight wants to have more kits, but is made to feel like her needs are selfish and that she should feel bad for these feelings

Twig and Bramble are valid for not wanting kits just as much as Fin and Squirrel are valid for wanting them

However, Finleap isn't in the right for pressuring his girlfriend to marry him and have kittens when she isn't ready

and Bramblestar isn't in the right for shaming his mate for wanting more kits and making a scene out of their relationship problems

and before any incels find this

their genders wouldn't matter in this

if Finleap was a she-cat harassing the tom she liked to have kits with her to make her feel like she belonged in a Clan, I'd still feel the same way

if Squirrelflight was a tom who wanted more kits, but his female leader mate berated him and made him to feel guilty for wanting that, I'd feel the same

it's not about toms and she-cats, men and women, or whatever terrible black and white gender binary lens you're looking through

it's about two different types of shitty mates in two different situations

those being Finleap and Bramblestar and their manipulation of Twigbranch and Squirrelflight respectively.

#discussion #finleap #twigbranch #squirrelflight #bramblestar #warriors #warrior cats #cw; mention of abuse #cw; manipulation #cw; finleap and bramblestar are terrible in canon #and their redemptions are half-assed cause the erins still want you to root for terrible couples

181 notes · View notes

oscopelabs · 3 years ago

Text

Isn’t Everything Autobiographical?: Ethan Hawke In Nine Films And A Novel by Marya Gates

When asked during his first ever on-camera interview if he’d like to continue acting, a young Ethan Hawke replied, “I don’t know if it’s going to be there, but I’d like to do it.” He then gives a guileless shrug of relief as the interview ends, wiping imaginary sweat off his brow. The simultaneous fusion of his nervous energy and poised body language will be familiar to those who’ve seen later interviews with the actor. The practicality and wisdom he exudes at such a young age would prove to be a through-line of his nearly 40-year career. In an interview many decades later, he told Ideas Tap that many children get into acting because they’re seeking attention, but those who find their calling in the craft discover that a “desire to communicate and to share and to be a part of something bigger than yourself takes over, a certain craftsmanship—and that will bring you a lot of pleasure.”

Through Hawke’s dedication to his craft, we’ve also seen his maturation as a person unfold on screen. Though none of his roles are traditionally what we think of when we think of autobiography, many of Hawke’s roles, as well as his work as a writer, suggest a sort of fictional autobiographical lineage. While these highlights in his career are not strictly autofiction, one can trace Hawke’s Künstlerromanesque trajectory from his childhood ambitions to his life now as a man dedicated to art, not greatness.

Hawke’s first two films, Joe Dante’s sci-fi fantasy Explorers with River Phoenix and Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society with Robin Williams, set the tone for a diverse filmography filled with popcorn fare and indie cinema in equal measure, but they also served as touchstones in his development as person drawn to self-expression through art. In an interview with Rolling Stone’s David Fear, Hawke spoke about the impact of these two films on him as an actor. When River Phoenix, his friend and co-star in Explorers, had his life cut short by a drug overdose, it hit Hawke personally. He saw from the inside what Hollywood was capable of doing to young people with talent. Hawke never attempted to break out, to become a star. He did the work he loved and kept the wild Hollywood lifestyle mostly at arm’s length.

Like any good film of this genre, Dead Poets Society is not just a film about characters coming of age, but a film that guides the viewer as well, if they are open to its message. Hawke’s performance as repressed schoolboy Todd in the film is mostly internal, all reactions and penetrating glances, rather than grandiose movements or speeches. Through his nervy body language and searching gaze, you can feel both how closed off to the world Todd is, and yet how willing he is to let change in. Hawke has said working on this film taught him that art has a real power, that it can affect people deeply. This ethos permeates many of the characters Hawke has inhabited in his career.

In Dead Poets Society, Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) tells the boys that we read and write poetry because the human race is full of passion. He insists, “poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.” Hawke gave a 2020 TEDTalk entitled Give Yourself Permission To Be Creative, in which he explored what it means to be creative, pushing viewers to ask themselves if they think human creativity matters. In response to his own question, he said “Most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about poetry, right? They have a life to live and they’re not really that concerned with Allen Ginsberg’s poems, or anybody’s poems, until their father dies, they go to a funeral, you lose a child, somebody breaks your heart, they don’t love you anymore, and all of the sudden you’re desperate for making sense out of this life and ‘has anyone ever felt this bad before? How did they come out of this cloud?’ Or the inverse, something great. You meet somebody and your heart explodes. You love them so much, you can’t even see straight, you know, you’re dizzy. ‘Did anybody feel like this before? What is happening to me?’ And that’s when art is not a luxury. It’s actually sustenance. We need it.”

Throughout many of his roles post-Dead Poets Society, Hawke explores the nature of creativity through his embodiment of writers and musicians. Often these characters are searching for a greater purpose through art, while ultimately finding that human connection is the key. Without that human connection, their art is nothing.

We see the first germ of this attraction to portray creative people on screen with his performance as Troy Dyer in Reality Bites. As Troy Dyer, a philosophy-spouting college dropout turned grunge-band frontman in Reality Bites, Hawke was posited as a Gen-X hero. His inability to keep a job and his musician lifestyle were held in stark contrast to Ben Stiller’s yuppie TV exec Michael Grates. However in true slacker spirit, he isn’t actually committed to the art of music, often missing rehearsals, as Lelaina points out. Troy even uses his music at one point to humiliate Lelaina, dedicating a rendition of “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes to her. The lyrics add insult to injury as earlier that day he snuck out of her room after the two had sex for the first time. Troy’s lack of commitment to his music matches his inability to commit to those relationships in his life that mean the most to him.

Reality Bites is also where he first positioned himself as one of the great orators of modern cinema.” Take this early monologue, in which he outlines his beliefs to Winona Ryder’s would-be documentarian Lelaina Pierce: “There’s no point to any of this. It’s all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know, a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle, and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.”

Hawke brings the same intense gaze to this performance as he did to Dead Poets Society, as if his eyes could swallow the world whole. But where Todd’s body language was walled-off, Troy’s is loud and boisterous. He’s quick to see the faults of those around him, but also the good things the world has to offer. It’s a pretty honest depiction of how self-centered your early-20s tend to be, where riding your own melt seems like the best option. As the film progresses, Troy lets others in, saying to Lelaina, “This is all we need. A couple of smokes, a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation. You, me and five bucks.”

Like the character, Hawke was in his early twenties and as he would continue to philosophize through other characters, they would age along with him and so would their takes on the world. If you only engage with anyone at one phase in their life, you do a disservice to the arc of human existence. We have the ability to grow and change as we learn who we are and become less self-centered. In Hawke’s career, there’s no better example of this than his multi-film turn as Jesse in the Before Trilogy. While the creation of Jesse and Celine are credited to writer-director Richard Linklater and his writing partner Kim Krizan, much of what made it to the screen even as early as the first film were filtered through the life experiences of Hawke and his co-star Julie Delpy.

In a Q&A with Jess Walter promoting his most recent novel A Bright Ray of Darkness, Hawke said that Jesse from the Before Trilogy is like an alt-universe version of himself, and through them we can see the self-awareness and curiosity present in the early ET interview grow into the the kind of man Keating from Dead Poets Society urged his students to become.

In Before Sunrise, Hawke’s Jesse is roughly the same age as Troy in Reality Bites, and as such is still in a narcissistic phase of his life. After spending several romantic hours with Celine in Vienna, the two share their thoughts about relationships. Celine says she wants to be her own person, but that she also desperately wants to love and be loved. Jesse shares this monologue, “Sometimes I dream about being a good father and a good husband. And sometimes it feels really close. But then other times it seems silly, like it would ruin my whole life. And it’s not just a fear of commitment or that I’m incapable of caring or loving because. . . I can. It’s just that, if I’m totally honest with myself, I think I’d rather die knowing that I was really good at something. That I had excelled in some way than that I’d just been in a nice, caring relationship.”

The film ends without the audience knowing if Jesse and Celine ever see each other again. That initial shock is unfortunately now not quite as impactful if you are aware of the sequels. But I think it is an astute look at two people who meet when they are still discovering who they are. Still growing. Jesse, at least, is definitely not ready for any kind of commitment. Then of course, we find out in Before Sunset that he’s fumbled his way into marriage and fatherhood, and while he’s excelling at the latter, he’s failing at the former.

As in Reality Bites, Hawke explores the dynamics of band life again in Before Sunset, when Jesse recalls to Celine how he was in a band, but they were too obsessed with getting a deal to truly enjoy the process of making music. He says to her, “You know, it's all we talked about, it was all we thought about, getting bigger shows, and everything was just...focused on the future, all the time. And now, the band doesn't even exist anymore, right? And looking back at the... at the shows we did play, even rehearsing... You know, it was just so much fun! Now I'd be able to enjoy every minute of it.”

The filming of Before Sunset happened to coincide with the dissolution of Hawke’s first marriage. And while these films are not autobiographical, everyone involved have stated that they’ve added personal elements to their characters. They even poke fun at it in the opening scene when a journalist asks how autobiographical Jesse’s novel is. True to form, he responds with a monologue, “Well, I mean, isn’t everything autobiographical? I mean, we all see the world through our own tiny keyhole, right? I mean, I always think of Thomas Wolfe, you know. Have you ever seen that little one page note to reader in the front of Look Homeward, Angel, right? You know what I'm talking about? Anyway, he says that we are the sum of all the moments of our lives, and that, anybody who sits down to write is gonna use the clay of their own life, that you can’t avoid that.”

While Before Sunset was shot in 2003, released in 2004 and this monologue refers to the fictional book within the trilogy entitled This Time, Hawke would take this same approach more than a decade later with his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness.

In the novel, Hawke crafts a quasi-autobiographical story, using his experience in theater to work through the perspective he now has on his failed marriage to Uma Thurman. Much like Jesse in Before Sunset, Hawke is reluctant to call the book autobiographical, but the parallels to his own divorce are evident. And as Jesse paraphrased Wolfe, isn’t everything we do autobiographical? In the book, movie star William Harding has blown up his seemingly picture-perfect marriage with a pop star by having an affair while filming on location in South Africa. The book, structured in scenes and acts like a play, follows the aftermath as he navigates his impending divorce, his relationship with his small children, and his performance as Hotspur in a production of Henry IV on Broadway.

Throughout much of the novel, William looks back at the mistakes he made that led to the breakup of his marriage. He’s now in his 30s and has the clarity to see how selfish he was in his 20s. Hawke, however, was in his forties while writing the book. Through the layers of hindsight, you can feel how Hawke has processed not just the painful emotional growth spurt of his 20s, but also the way he can now mine the wisdom that comes from true reflection. Still, as steeped as the novel is in self-reflection, it does not claim to have all the answers. In fact, it offers William, as well as the readers, more questions to contemplate than it does answers.

The wisdom to know that you will never quite understand everything is broached by Hawke early in the third film in the Before Trilogy, 2013’s Before Midnight. At this point in their love story, Jesse’s marriage has ended and he and Celine are parents to twin girls. Jesse has released two more books: That Time, which recounts the events of the previous film, and Temporary Cast Members of a Long-Running But Little Seen Production of a Play Called Fleeting. Before Midnight breaks the bewitching spell of the first two films by adding more cast members and showing the friction that comes with an attempt to grow old with someone. When discussing his three books, a young man says the title of his third is too long, Jesse says it wasn’t as well loved, and an older professor friend says it’s his best book because it’s more ambitious. It seems Linklater and company already knew how the departure of this third film might be regarded by fans. But it is this very departure that shows their commitment to honestly showing the passage of time and our relationship to it.

About halfway through the film Jesse and Celine depart the Greek villa where they have been spending the summer, and we finally get a one-on-one conversation like we’re used to with these films. In one exchange, I feel they summarize the point of the entire trilogy, and possibly Hawke’s entire ethos:

Jesse: Every year, I just seem to get a little bit more humbled and more overwhelmed about all the things I’m never going to know or understand.

Celine: That’s what I keep telling you. You know nothing!

Jesse: I know, I know! I'm coming around!

[Celine and Jesse laugh.]

Celine: But not knowing is not so bad. I mean, the point is to be looking, searching. To stay hungry, right?

Throughout the series, Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke explore what they call the “transient nature of everything.” Jesse says his books are less about time and more about perception. It’s the rare person who can assess themselves or the world around them acutely in the present. For most of us, it takes time and self-reflection to come to any sort of understanding about our own nature. Before Midnight asks us to look back at the first two films with honesty, to remove the romantic lens with which they first appeared to us. It asks us to reevaluate what romance even truly is.

Hawke explores this same concept again in the 2018 romantic comedy Juliet, Naked. In this adaptation of the 2009 Nick Hornby novel, Hawke plays a washed-up singer-songwriter named Tucker Crowe. He had a big hit album, Juliet, in the early ‘90s and then disappeared into obscurity. Rose Bryne plays a woman named Annie whose longtime boyfriend Duncan is obsessed with the singer and the album, stuck on the way the bummer songs about a bad breakup make him feel. As the film begins, Annie reveals that she thinks she’s wasted 15 years of her life with this schmuck. This being a rom-com, we know that Hawke and Byrne’s characters will eventually meet-cute. What’s so revelatory about the film is its raw depiction of how hard it is for many to reassess who they really are later in life.

Duncan is stuck as the self-obsessed, self-pitying person he likely was when Annie first met him, but she reveals he was so unlike anyone else in her remote town that she looked the other way for far too long. Now it’s almost too late. By chance, she connects with Crowe and finds a different kind of man.

See, when Crowe wrote Juliet, he also was a navel-gazing twentysomething whose emotional development had not yet reached the point of being able to see both sides in a romantic entanglement. He worked through his heartbreak through art, and though it spoke to other people, he didn’t think about the woman or her feelings on the subject. In a way, Crowe’s music sounds a bit like what Reality Bites’s Troy Dyer may have written, if he ever had the drive to actually work at his music. Eventually, it’s revealed that Crowe walked away from it all when Julie, the woman who broke his heart, confronted him with their child—something he was well aware of, but from which he had been running away. Faced with the harsh reality of his actions and the ramifications they had on the world beyond his own feelings, he ran even farther away from responsibility. In telling the story to Annie, he says, “I couldn’t play any of those songs anymore, you know? After that, I just... I couldn’t play these insipid, self-pitying songs about Julie breaking my heart. You know, they were a joke. And before I know it, a couple of decades have gone by and some doctor hands me... hands me Jackson. I hold him, you know, and I look at him. And I know that this boy. . . is my last chance.”

When we first meet Crowe, he’s now dedicated his life to raising his youngest son, having at this point messed up with four previous children. The many facets of parenthood is something that shows up in Hawke’s later body of work many times, in projects as wholly different as Brooklyn’s Finest, Before Midnight, Boyhood, Maggie’s Plan, First Reformed, and even his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness. In each of these projects, decisions made by Hawke’s characters have a big impact on their children’s lives. These films explore the financial pressures of parenthood, the quirks of blended families, the impact of absent fathers, and even the tragedy of a father’s wishes acquiesced without question. Hawke’s take on parenthood is that of flawed men always striving to overcome the worst of themselves for the betterment of the next generation, often with mixed results.

Where Juliet, Naked showed a potential arc of redemption for a father gone astray, First Reformed paints a bleaker portrait. Hawke plays Pastor Toller, a man of the cloth struggling with his own faith who attempts to counsel an environmental activist whose impending fatherhood has driven him to suicidal despair. Toller himself is struggling under the weight of fatherhood, believing he sent his own son to die a needless death in a morally bankrupt war. Sharing the story, he says “My father taught at VMI. I encouraged my son to enlist. It was the family tradition. Like his father, his grandfather. Patriotic tradition. My wife was very opposed. But he enlisted against her wishes. . . . Six months later he was killed in Iraq. There was no moral justification for this conflict. My wife could not live with me after that. Who could blame her? I left the military. Reverend Jeffers at Abundant Life Church heard about my situation. They offered me a position at First Reformed. And here I am.” How do we carry the weight of actions that affect lives that are not even our own?

If Peter Weir set the father figure template in Dead Poets Society, and Paul Schrader explored the consequences of direct parental influence on their children’s lives, director Richard Linklater subverts the idea of a mentor-guide in Boyhood, showing both parents are as lost as the kid himself. When young Mason (Ellar Coltrane) asks his dad (Hawke) what’s the point of everything, his reply is “I sure as shit don’t know. Nobody does. We’re all just winging it.” As the film ends, Mason sits atop a mountain with a new friend he’s made in the dorms discussing time. She says that everyone is always talking about seize the moment—carpe diem!—but she thinks it’s the other way around. That the moments seize us. In Reality Bites, Troy gets annoyed at Lelaina’s constant need to “memorex” everything with her camcorder, yet Boyhood is a film about capturing a life over a 12-year period. The Before Trilogy checks in on Jesse and Celine every nine years. Hawke’s entire career. in fact, has captured his growth from an awkward teen to a prolific artist and devoted father, a master of his craft and philosopher at heart.

#ethan hawke #boyhood #before trilogy #before midnight #before sunset #before sunrise #reality bites #first reformed #dead poets society #a bright ray of darkness #film writing #film essay #musings #oscilloscope laboratories

140 notes · View notes

sibsteria · 4 years ago

Text

hallelujah [jack kline]

prompts: ''please, don't stop'', ''I love it when you kiss my neck'', ''you want to have sex with me?''

summary: first time with jack

characters: Jack Kline, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) Castiel

warning: smut, fluff, first time awkwardness, tooth rotting reassurance fluff, literal filth

---

The atmosphere was light and solacing, the subtle tenderness of his fingers soothed my restless arms, as they danced across my skin with such delicacy. His hands left tingles, igniting a fire that spread across me, shivers took their toll up and down my body.

I looked up to his angelic face, to be greeted with a toothy grin, as his eyes settled on my relaxed frame. If my heart did stutter as much as it did metaphorically, I'd be six feet under from the day I met him. I lay cradled between his legs, my head against his chest, as my body was positioned on it's side. Feeling the soft inhales and exhales coming from the soft boy below me had lulled me into such a confined sense of security, his warmth enveloping me as I revelled.

The remainder of TFW had business elsewhere, so this left me and my chosen soulmate in the confines of the Men of Letters abode. If soulmates were a thing, Jack and I could be labelled as a prime example. I mindlessly fiddled with the folds of his jacket as we found comfort on the sofa, his hand that was currently grazing my arm had moved up to repeat a stroking movement in my hair. I hummed as the sensation of him running his fingers through my hair was a well-found favourite feeling of mine.

Each time he accidentally tangled his fingers within strands of my hair, creating a soft tug, would create a fiery pit in my stomach.

''Y/n...I need to-'' He paused for a moment, ''-ask you something?'' he had ended his sentence as if it were a question to himself as well, unsure of his words. His words were communicated in a shaky manner and he was biting his lip, he only did that when he was nervous.

I sat myself up and he followed suit, I sensed the seriousness of the situation and reached forward to clasp his hands in mine.

''Are you okay? Is something wrong?'' I let my tone remain calm yet my head was spinning with questions.

''N-No, nothing's wrong, I just-'' He swallows hard, his eyes can't seem to reach mine, so I cup his cheek which is red and warm.

''Whatever it is, you know you can say anything to me, I'm the last person to ever hurt you.'' I turned his jaw, carefully and lightly, so his eyes were looking into mine.

''I was, uh...speaking to Dean last week and he was teaching me about...pornography?'' I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes widened a small amount.

''What did he say? I swear to Chuck if he said anything ba-''

''He said that, everything that went in in those...videos, were fake and that you should only repeat what they were doing with someone you love.'' My heart softened for the elder Winchester, who knew under that tough exterior that he knew the right things after all.

''Did he tell you what it was they were doing?'' I tilted my head as he continued to recite his conversation.

''I had read and learned about intercourse before but, saw no need for the knowledge. Until now.'' I dropped my jaw, no way, he doesn't mean- ''I would like to try it with you.'' He smiles wide and it makes my heart drum like a Metallica canticle.

''You want to have sex with me?'' I couldn't hide the awe and blush of the features of my face that betrayed me. ''Are you sure? No one is pushing you to do this, are they?'' I search his eyes for any uncertainty but find no evidence.

''I'm sure, because I love you, no one has told me to do anything. I really love you.'' The sincerity and sureness in his voice- I could pass out, if people's hearts can shrink from hate then my heart was exploding from love and affection.

''I love you too, Jack, when do you want to-'' I couldn't find the words I was searching for, but he took the hint.

''I-I would like to try now? If that's okay, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to.'' His eyebrows pursed in genuine concern, how could anyone ever say no to him?

''Of course, I would do anything for you- with you, Jack. I'd give my life for you, if the situation desired it.'' I could see the tears glaze over his cerulean stars that guarded his gaze.

''I could never ask you for that, I'd never let you do that.'' He pulled me into his strong cherish, his arms embracing me in a lax yet wistful capture. My heart was crying out to him, craving his everything, beseeching him as a whole. But not in a sexual way, in an amorous pining way.

''I love you more than I have anything, more than I will love anything.'' I voiced, looking into his azure allure as he beamed down at me.

''I love you.'' That was all he needed to declare before I pushed forward, seizing his ductile lips with mine, moving with a fervour that could shake the building. His delighted trill that vibrated against my mouth was a sound worth the world, every nerve in my chassis felt electric, with the passionate epicentre in the deep of my stomach. What were once innocent butterflies, felt like raging hawks in the depths of this tension.

His docile nature is an adverse contrast to the cruelty of most men I have met, the sensation of his padded fingers drifting across my skin as if they belonged there, was dynamizing.

I decided that I would take direction, seeing as I have prior experience. As our lips remained deep into a passionate lock, which could taunt the most enlightened of couples.

I lightly shifted him on to his back, moving his to lie onto the sofa, as I sat in the space in front of himself. I broke our connection to press small and sighted kisses the the outline of his jaw, he breathes out what I guess he was holding, with a small profound noise. I moved my kisses across his jaw until I reach the corner.

''Are we going to?- Y'know-'' I could pin-point his struggle so I decided to answer for him.

''Yeah, are you sure you want this? None of this matters to me as long as I have you.'' I felt his reaction before I heard it.

''Oh-I'm sure, if this is any part of it, I can't wait.'' What did I do to deserve this jewel of a soul.

I lifted my leg to straddle over his lap, almost as if instinct, his hands found the safety of my hips. I felt my eyes becoming heavy with lustful dilation as I inclined my head down to re-animate my lips with his in another searing kiss. We had kissed before, a lot, but nothing could compare to right now.

I seated myself down more, pressing myself against his lap, lighter than air. I didn't want to push him right of the bat.

His careful touch trailed up the side of my back, whilst one hand remained where it lay. His lips moved so fast, it was hard to keep up, I changed my approach. I continued down the road of gentle jaw pecks and moved down towards his neck, which was high in temperature. I added the aspect of pulling his skin through my lips and teeth with pleasurable suction, creating a small purple mark on neck which disappeared a few moments after. This was the first time he let out a fully fledged moan and his hips involuntarily bucked up to press against me. My breath hitched and through impulse I ground down on him harder.

''I love it when you kiss my neck, gah-'' He let out another strangled moan as I returned my focus to his neck, his crotch pushed up once again and connected against mine.

''Oh- can you do that again?'' His voice was hardly there as I felt him getting hard.

I listened to his plea and grinded myself down onto him, this time, I didn't stop. His hand gripped my hip, but he had trouble holding on.

''Here- this might be easier to hold on to.'' I guided his hands down towards the skin below my ass, which connected to my thigh. He grappled onto it and I sucked in air between my teeth, biting on my tongue, although it wasn't pain.

''Sorry! Did I hurt you?'' His frantic apology reminded my that I was the first person teaching him how to copulate.

''N-No, felt good, you can do that as much as you like.'' I edged him on, he nodded and gripped me again, this time moving onto my ass and I lurched my front forward. Burying my head into his neck, I whimpered.

''How did you know to-'' I couldn't answer as he spoke before I could finished,

''I guessed, was that right?'' He had a hopeful look in his eyes which almost made me cry out.

''So, so right. You're doing everything right.'' I moaned against his ear, taking in his ear lobe, nipping at it. His other hand which rested on my back had moved down to cup the other side of my ass, mirroring the other. He pushed my hips down to meet his, impatiently, he really couldn't wait. I can tell already he has an extreme praise kink. I slid my hips across, driving against his cock. He bucks again, fast and sure.

Today was a good day to wear a skirt.

His length was solid and craving release, his lips found my neck, as mine had once found his. He copied what I had done, nipping and sucking at the skin, but this time it would mark. I whined out in frustration.

His hips coiled up faster, stuttering as he came, unexpectedly. Holy motherfucking shit. He called out my name in shattered cries, clasping at any part of me he could. His eyes were screwed as he experienced sexual fulfilment. shut He stopped for a moment after he peaked, I kissed his forehead and his nose as he smiled up at me in awe.

''Was-Was that?'' He searched for the words but couldn't find them.

''You had an orgasm, and I'm guessing your first. I'm also guessing you liked it.'' I heaved an amused exhale, he had no idea how hot he was in this second, he sat up to take his jacket off as I rested on his lap still.

''Did it feel like that for you?'' I could see the wishing in his sky shaded eyes.

''Not yet, but this is about you, we don't need to carry on-'' I stopped my sentence as I felt him grow once again beneath me.

''No refractory interval, huh.'' I whispered to myself in shock.

''In-In the video, the people didn't have clothes on, is that normal. And I didn't put my-'' I stopped him before I could blush any further.

''Uh yeah it's normal don't worry! You just had an orgasm from grinding your- self against me. We haven't had sex yet.'' I brushed the hair from his forehead, which stuck to him because of the cold sweat lacing his skin.

''Can-Can we? Now?'' His hot, pink, cheeks blaring against the sunlight, beautiful as he begged. I couldn't refuse him. His breathing was normal and fluid now, seemingly recovered completely.

''If you really can't wait any longer.'' I cupped his face, kissing him once again, rolling my hips down onto his. He was impossibly hard. I moaned again, slipping my hands under his shirt brushing against his untouched body.

He still remained sat up as I pulled of his shirt, his chest had a small redness across it from the heat, fucking beautiful.

I reached down to grab the hems of my shirt when his hand stopped me.

''Can I?'' Jack's curious eyes bounced between mine and my shirt.

''Go ahead.'' I shuffle back from his lap, still straddling him. His fingers find the end of my shirt and slowly pull it up, revealing my good bra thank the lord- actually no, let's not thank him.

''If it's okay with you, I'll take care of this part, it can be tricky.'' I motion to my black, lacy garment and he mumbles an 'okay'.

I reach behind myself, taking a breath before I unclasp the back, pulling off the straps and letting it fall to the floor. I go to cover myself but Jack restricts me, his head moves in confusion.

''Don't do that, I want to see you.'' His declare makes my head reel.

''I'm sorry that I can't be more than this for you.'' I remove my arms from my chest as he holds my hands.

''Why would you want to be? This is you, and as I once head Dean say-'' I inwardly cringe at his name being used in this situation. ''I think the word breath-taking describes you.'' His still-sitting form moved forward so his head can near towards me, his eyes watch me closely before leaning down. He presses soft and sweet kisses to each bust of my chest, I groan out in pleasure, but not physically. The emotional heaviness of the moment is what makes me cry out, how could one person love another so immensely.

''I love you. And that means all of you.'' I shut my eyes in impassioned heaven.

''I love you too.'' I kissed him before I left the warmth of his lip, he whined before I could speak.

''We need to take the rest of our...clothes off.'' I bit my lip and looked off to the side in blushing attraction.

''O-Oh!'' He seems to excite at this and eagerly unbuttons his jeans, unzipping before ultimately dropping them completely. ''Should I take my underwear off also?'' He questions me. His briefs are soaked from his previous settlement and I long to wonder what it would feel like to have him in my mouth, that would have to wait.

''If you'd allow me-'' I step towards him, slowly reaching for his clothed crotch, he nods in affirmation. I hook my fingers around the sides of his briefs, kissing his shoulder and chest as I start to pull them off. He kicks them from himself once they reach a certain point and points towards my skirt.

''Can I take it off?'' I nod and smile at him.

''You can do anything you want, anything.'' I say, a sincere and truthful confession.

He kneels below me, looking up with an innocent yet ruined look in his eyes. Pressing small kisses to my stomach and thighs as he pulls down my skirt along with my underwear in one swift action. I didn't feel a need to be nervous with him anymore, letting my body do the talking instead of words I led him back towards the couch, which up until this point remained un-christened. That was about to change.

''In the video, the man puts his mouth on her...lower area.'' He whispers in thought as he sat on the couch.

''That's not important right now, we can explore that later. Right now, I just want you to feel the peak of physical affection.'' He gives me one of his toothy smiles again and I can't help but stare at him with adoration in my eyes before we resume the position we were previously in.

I straddled him with no effort and took his impressive length in my hand. He gripped the couch and moaned lowly as I worked him up and down a few times, spreading the leaking pre-cum.

''You ready?'' I lean down, kissing his nose, fondly.

''Yes, really ready.'' He breathes out, I prod my entrance with the tip of him, sliding it in slightly.

He let out fast paced breathy groans as I slid down onto his firm cock. I'm in no way a virgin, but it's been a while.

He moves his hands my my waist, his nails dig into me, I moan.

''I'm not hurti-'' I answer him before he could finish.

''Definitely not hurting me.'' I sigh in pleasure, down his ear as I hunch over.

''I'm gonna move now.'' I mumble, he doesn't know what's coming to him.

I lift up my hips until I reach the tip of his cock before lightly slamming back down, his hands slide down to clutch the skin on the side of my thighs.

''Do-Do that again.'' He groans.

''I'll do more than that.'' There was no need to hold back, I slid myself up again and repeated the motion, setting a steady momentum. His hips snapped up to meet mine as I bounced with no shame.

''Oh, please, don't stop.'' He rushed out, trying to set a faster pace as he snaps up with impatience.

''Jack, you wanna- try being in- control?'' I attempt to communicate through breathy laments.

''Yes, please.'' I stop sinking my hips for a moment whilst I slowly try to transfer my body weight to beneath him. He gets the gist and helps to flip us over, carefully.

''Don't hold back, you don't need to be gentle.'' I brush a hand through his hair so it's out of his face before an unexpected thrust knocks the air out of me. He doesn't waste time, pushing himself to the brink of speed, I struggle to find somewhere to anchor my hands and I settle for one against his shoulder blade and the other in his hair.

With the relentless pounding and merciless fucking of his hips, I felt blissful thrill that I had never felt before, I couldn't help the tug of his hair that pulls between my fingers. He wails out, I panic and try to apologise.

''Sorry, fuck! Did that hur-'' He snaps into me with more meaning than ever, it's ruthless and hot.

''Do it again.'' He begs into my ear, his voice wavering. I do as he says and pull against his hair, he whines, biting down into my neck.

''Fuck, Jack!'' I cry as his pelvic bone creates intoxicating friction against my swollen clit, he's balls deep and no where near stopping.

''Are you sure you haven't done this before?'' I grip at the skin on his shoulder blade and he grouses in pleasure.

''Never, you're the only person I'd ever do this with, I love you.'' He grunts our as his cock remains a punishing and brutal pace. The sound of his voice saying 'I love you' in such an intimate moment makes me orgasm on the spot, I came hard and with a recoil I stutter my hips to try and match his, failing at the objective. I moan out his name as I grip onto his hair, the hardest I have.

''Jack!'' He pounds impossibly faster as my walls clench around him, begging him to let go, and he does. With a chorus of strangled moans, and stammered whines, he came. He gives a few more ruts before collapsing his head against my chest, leaving kisses up my neck.

I feel my body give up, refusing to move, refusing to breathe.

''O-oh, wo-wow. Woah.'' Jack grins with astonishment.

''I know, Jack. That was- especially with you- and-'' I give up on words.

''I want to do that all the time.'' He let out a throaty laugh, but I knew he was completely serious.

''We can, maybe not all the time but- when it doesn't inconvenience the others.'' It rings in my head for a moment before I realise.

''Shit! The guys will be back soon, grab your clothes.'' I usher him to hurry up and I grab mine as well, stammering along to my room with whatever working muscles I had left. As soon as I shut my door, I felt the front one open. Close call.

I breathe out in relief.

''What the fuck?'' I hear from outside.

''Uh, Y/n?'' I looked towards a blushing Jack. ''I forgot to pick something up.'' He drops his clothing and I realise we are missing his briefs. Oh, fuck.

''What the fuck is this?'' Ah yes, that would be your adopted sons cum-stained underwear, Dean.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural #jack kline #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline smut #jack kline imagines

867 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

Text

I am looking (disrespectfully) at the trope of Bruce and other family members only seeming to respect Dick’s wishes when doing so aligns with what they already wanted to do.

Let’s go to the examples!

1) Bruce not broaching adoption with Dick because he wants to respect Dick’s first parents and feels like he would be taking their place or overstepping or putting himself in between Dick and his memories of his parents. Sometimes its cited that Dick himself expressed this wish early on after his parents died, sometimes its not and this is still just upheld as Bruce’s reasoning for not adopting Dick before he was already well into adulthood.

THE FATAL FLAW (in mine own personal opinion, natch. Personal mileage may vary, check your speedometer to be safe):

This particular plot point or tangle is in my experience ALWAYS paired with Bruce’s own insecurities about his role in Dick’s life, or not wanting to push that or receive an answer he doesn’t want to or is afraid to hear. Sometimes its about his fears of unworthiness to be Dick’s actual parent, etc, etc. But the bottom line is, there is always the presence of SOME element (and not a small one) in which Bruce’s own self-interest or feelings are protected by him NOT broaching the adoption conversation with Dick and having to confront these fears head on.

This is additionally juxtaposed with the problem that although there’s a lot of variance in regards to stories where Bruce fired Dick versus stories where Dick gave up being Robin and moved on to Nightwing voluntarily....there’s NOT a lot of stories where Dick makes Jason Robin himself or is asked by Bruce first. The part where Bruce takes this initiative on his own, without thinking through its repercussions on Dick emotionally.....this is practically always present.

Now, the problem here is that......Dick became or began becoming Robin well into his time with Bruce. Its frequently cited as the thing that began allowing them to truly connect, their time training and acting as Batman and Robin.

Meaning no matter WHAT interpretation you go with as to why specifically Dick chose the name Robin, whether it was a family nickname or an homage to Robin Hood.....the fact remains, NOTHING of Robin, THEMATICALLY, nothing that spoke to Dick in regards to what he wanted Robin to be - specifically in honor of his parents because avenging his parents and making sure what happened to them didn’t happen to others like, this was literally a key part of what bonded Dick and Bruce, the fact that Bruce was TRYING to help Dick specifically BECAUSE they shared this particular overlap of purpose - like the bottom line is, nothing about Robin CAME from Bruce. Or Dick’s feelings about Bruce. That....didn’t really even exist yet, at the time he created Robin. Everything about Robin, other than the physical costume itself, not even the design just the actual creation of it....all of that came from BEFORE he met Bruce. None of it was thoughts or feelings derived from BRUCE. Its the whole reason Dick was never Batkid or Batlad, or any derivative of Batman.

It all, ALL came from what Dick came to the manor WITH. Remnants of his life with his first family.

So the fatal flaw of Bruce’s reasoning that by not broaching the subject of adoption with Dick before well into adulthood, he was actually just respecting Dick’s relationship with his first parents and not trying to come between them and Dick’s memories and feelings about them....

All of this is inherently undermined by Bruce’s own actions.....when by repurposing Robin to ANY degree, even just to give the mantle to Jason.....this meant that he was inherently viewing Robin as being more about being Batman’s partner, HIS partner....then it was about being Dick’s heritage, his last intangible keepsake of his first family and life BEFORE Bruce.

In effect....Bruce making Jason Robin or firing Dick as Robin, either way....both betray Bruce’s OWN alleged intentions for only wanting to respect Dick’s relationship with his parents, and that being why he didn’t want to overstep by trying to impose or even ask for his own official parent/child relationship with Dick. Because that’s exactly what appropriating the Robin mantle was. It was Bruce ignoring the relationship Dick had with his parents and their memory and the fact that Robin was directly born of that....and making Robin entirely about Bruce’s OWN relationship with Dick, heedless of any other factors.

And the second Bruce did that.....his entire justification for not raising the adoption issue....disappears. It goes away. Because you can’t claim inaction being just a result of not wanting to disrespect something you’ve already voided respect for. No matter whether Bruce INTENDED it or not.....by crossing this boundary, Bruce already acted against Dick’s feelings in this regard and well, disregarded them....which makes claims of Bruce not raising the adoption issue pretty much JUST self-serving at that point. Its an alleged viewpoint of Dick’s that Bruce largely just ASSUMES....and only ultimately respects - in direct contrast to how he didn’t respect the associations Dick had with Robin - because it aligns with something Bruce ALREADY wanted to do, rather than what Dick actually wanted. It provided justification for Bruce to just....not have a conversation he was afraid to have. And that’s about Bruce at that point. Its not about Dick. Its just like...not.

2) Another example of this that is not unique to just Bruce, but recurs frequently in both canon and fanfics in Dick’s dynamics with other characters he’s close with.....is characters not apologizing for things they’ve done to Dick or raising the issue of things they did a long time ago but never apologized for....while claiming to do so because they thought DICK didn’t want to talk about it.

THE FATAL FLAW (in my own personal opinion. Nuances and variations may not be identical at all store locations, please see your local branch for details):

The particular problem I have here is that....Dick never ever ever in the history of ever and also the before ever time.....has EVER expressed a desire to avoid confrontation.

Like. That’s what he DOES. That’s his JAM. That’s literally CITED time and time again as one of the reasons he’s viewed as more of a people person and natural team leader than Bruce and other Batfam members....because he’s not afraid to cut straight (or bi) to the heart of the matter and air out a dispute.

In fact, this very character trait is one of the ones most commonly utilized AGAINST Dick in various depictions of him, as he’s often cited as TOO confrontational, TOO eager for a fight or conflict especially when his temper is engaged, such as when he’s well....personally hurt or offended.

So how does it follow, then, that avoiding tough conversations ONLY when its on the OTHER person to INITIATE, because they were the ones who DID the wrong-doing and Dick the subject of that rather than the instigator....how does it work, exactly, that these are the only times in which we DON’T tend to see a direct conversation about the harms done and the fallout that resulted? With it being claimed that this is solely for Dick’s benefit, out of a desire to avoid pulling him into an allegedly unnecessary (but really just unpleasant) confrontation?

When the concurrent reality is that whether stated or acknowledged or not.....avoiding these specific conversations and ONLY these conversations (as there never seems to be a problem finding canon or fanfic stories in which Dick apologizes for harm HE’S caused to others or is clearly expected to).....this avoidance also carries the side benefit of allowing the character who DID something wrong to Dick to....not ever have to have that super uncomfortable conversation in which they actually verbally acknowledge the thing they did to him and the effects it had on him, and apologize for that.....and then render themselves vulnerable to actually hearing whether or not he accepts their apology or is still upset with them regardless.

While - as long as they DON’T ever have this conversation, for whatever reason - they can look to the clear and consistent precedent of Dick continuing to work with people who have done things like oh, I don’t know....punched him in the face cuz they’re mad at him (and this isn’t a Bruce critical point, this is a whole damn family critical point as the only one who HASN’T actually done this is Duke. Well, Cass technically just threw him out a window, but I mean, tomato toh-mah-to). Writers and characters both can lean on the fact that actually Dick has a pretty clear track record of ultimately giving up a grudge or at least showing a willingness to look past those grudges enough that it doesn’t prevent him from still maintaining or resuming some kind of relationship with the person who hurt him.

And thus, like Example Numero Uno......this ultimately just lets other characters off the hook while claiming to do Dick a favor, but actually Dick receives no real benefit from it and instead now just has another instance of characters saying “see we respect your wishes” when ultimately their inaction is MORE in service to their own wishes and self-interests.

2b) See also the variation of this in which characters such as Bruce, Jason, Tim and assorted others like....are written specifically determining that they’re not going to apologize to Dick or beg his forgiveness because they feel they don’t DESERVE to be forgiven, and once again....its in HIS best interests that they not even give him the opportunity to say he forgives them....because they know Dick Grayson of course, and they know he’s too forgiving for his own good, so its better to like....not make it ever a possibility in this particular instance.

With the problem here being like.....Dick can’t and shouldn’t be expected to KNOW that’s their logic? So....all he’s going to actually SEE is loved ones just....not expressing remorse for hurting him or acknowledgment it even happened? Which....hurts?

So......hurting your loved one MORE after already hurting them....because you don’t feel you deserve to be forgiven for hurting them in the first place and are actually PROTECTING them from being hurt more when mistakenly forgiving you.....by.....hurting and continuing to hurt them with your silence and lack of evident remorse....

Mmmm.....

Its not the best approach, y’know?

Flaws are detected.

3) Dick’s friends and family manipulating situations in order to get the end result THEY desire, while claiming to do so for his benefit only. Dick being willing to manipulate people to achieve his own ends comes up a LOT actually....but there’s relatively little examination of how often people do this to him, claiming his best interests but really just circumventing his clearly stated desires for independence and the right to make his own choices about what HE needs....or when this is brought up, its usually limited to JUST Bruce doing it, but uh....no that ain’t it.

Specific examples of this are like when Wally joins the 1999 version of the Titans specifically to get Dick to join up, because in his estimation Dick needs more of a social life and is drowning himself with his responsibilities....and then quits not long after Dick is finally officially invested in staying with the team. Another example is when Roy gets Dick to join the Outsiders based entirely on his pitch of NOT treating the team like a family, like they did with the Titans, so that Dick could keep emotional distance and not be as worried about losing them like he suffered from losses like Donna....with his claim again being that he worried about Dick in the aftermath of that loss, etc.

And to be clear! Its not that I think Wally and Roy and others who do similar things have NEGATIVE intentions in mind for Dick. That’s the whole point of this post.....like the other examples, I fully believe THEY believe (or writers believe when writing them this way) that they have Dick’s best interests in mind and not their own. I just....disagree.

THE FATAL FLAW (at least as I see it here):

Is that I view this and Batfam members who do similar stuff as like.....falling into the trap of the savior friend complex. Its that thing when you see a friend hurting, and over time get FRUSTRATED by seeing this when a solution seems obvious to you but think they won’t take it because they’re too stubborn or don’t know what’s best for them....with this specifically recurring a LOT with Dick in particular, due to his core characterization of wanting to be the one to make his own choices. The problem here, same as the problem with the savior friend complex....is that it treats the subject of these views as like....incapable of determining what they need. Its a tacit condemnation that they actually don’t know how to cope with things and are doing it wrong - even though the ones making this assessment will never be the ones actually having to LIVE with the outcome of their meddling. Its the conviction that someone like Dick needs to be HANDLED, for his own good....because he can’t be trusted to KNOW what he needs, not as well as them at least.....and so they jump to manipulation rather than just....ASK him what he needs, or HOW they can best support him, or even just WHY he’s making the choices he is.

For instance, the problem with what Wally did was never that Dick wasn’t struggling. He was. He was drowning in his responsibilities, he had very little to no life outside of them.....Wally is not remotely in the wrong for WANTING to do something to change this situation. The problem is Wally basically defaulted to just...HANDLING his friend by restarting the Titans just to give Dick a social life again, which is pretty much a line straight out of the comics...and basically railroaded right over Dick’s initial ‘no’ when he first heard the proposal. And kept pushing things until Dick eventually joined up in order to get Wally to commit to the team too, because Wally spun it as though Dick was helping Wally by getting Wally to commit to the team for the very same reasons Wally wanted Dick to. And then....right after that, Wally quit to go back to just focusing on the Justice League, which was part of what Dick predicted would happen all along.

The thing was.....at no point along the way did Wally actually ask WHY Dick initially said no....he jumped straight to assuming his own view of the problem, that Dick just COULDN’T be made to ever see the reason to take a break occasionally and put his mental and emotional health as a priority. If he’d done this, Wally could have had dozens of other options to achieve his desired end result....he could’ve like....set up regular hangouts with Dick.

But Wally jumped to assuming he knew the answer, he knew what was best for Dick, and that Dick’s logic was inherently self-destructive and self-flagellating.....and he felt the solution was to bring back the Titans, as he recalled their earlier times as Titans together as a time when Dick was better able to balance his social life and responsibilities.

But by not ever stopping to LISTEN to why Dick felt the way he did and was initially opposed to rejoining the Titans....Wally overlooked one crucial fact: He isn’t Dick.

And more important, his view of the past wasn’t Dick’s view of the past.

Wally was a lot more capable of viewing the Titans as not just a family, but an inherent social life, a hangout, a kind of club....because that’s what it had always been to him.

But he’d never been the leader.

Throughout all their childhoods, the whole time the Titans WERE all of the above, and relatively light-hearted in comparison to their older selves....Dick STILL had the weight of responsibilities that none of the others had by virtue of just...not being the leader. Ultimately, all of their lives were in HIS hands. He was the one calling the shots. The buck stopped with him.

And this is precisely WHY Dick had gotten to the point he had in adulthood. It wasn’t because he’d changed. It wasn’t because he’d stopped figuring out what he needed and how to take care of himself. Its because the position he’d ALWAYS been in as leader....has WEIGHT. That eventually added up more and more and weighed him down. A huge part of the reason Dick had ended up leaving the Titans in the first place, before they disbanded prior to the 1999 revival....is because of the sheer WEIGHT of all the deaths and misfortunes that had befallen the Titans....and how much he and he alone struggled with it in ways the others didn’t....because they didn’t have to. It hadn’t been their plans, their calls, their RESPONSIBILITY to find a way the others could have all made it out alive or at least less traumatized.

So.....of COURSE Dick said no when Wally first proposed restarting the Titans, before Wally defaulted to using his own membership as a lure to get Dick to agree.....because......nothing about the above paragraph had changed, via Wally’s ‘plan.’ It wasn’t because Dick just didn’t KNOW how to be a fully rounded person....it was because nobody was helping him find actual OPTIONS for doing that....that didn’t just double as MORE responsibilities! Because that’s exactly what ended up happening! Dick wound up the leader of the Titans again, just as responsible and just as invested as always.....just like he always knew he would....and also as he knew would happen...Wally ended up quitting not long into it and persuading Jessie Quick to step in as his replacement....aka just one more person for Dick to worry about when it wasn’t like he was going to be worrying any less about Wally, just now he wasn’t going to have Wally there to even POTENTIALLY be able to support him when tragedy inevitably struck because they’re freaking superheroes....and instead he’d just have another person looking to him for the answers but with no reason or chance of being the support Dick could ACTUALLY use at times like that!

Wally’s manipulations circumvented Dick’s opinion that no, actually he knew what was best for him and it wasn’t what Wally was suggesting....without actually accounting for the fact that hey, Dick might actually know that. And in the end, Wally got the result he was after, he got to feel that he’d HELPED his friend....which again, this isn’t WRONG to WANT to....but Dick didn’t...exactly....benefit from this. It wasn’t actually in his best interests ultimately.

I mean...see Donna’s death for details.

And in the aftermath of THAT....Roy essentially did exactly what Wally did....just in REVERSE! Roy got Dick to agree to lead the Outsiders, to shoulder responsibility once again....by promising that Dick WOULDN’T have to view them as family. And did Dick go too far and end up TOO uncaring about their welfare? Yup! No disagreements there! Problem is though....he only ended UP in that situation because yet again a friend thought they KNEW the solution to what Dick needed.....only for Dick to end up essentially punished and further self-blaming....just for doing exactly what Roy had told him TO do, with this particular team. Again - Roy hadn’t EXPECTED Dick to take it this far. But that’s the whole point! Roy had expectations about what Dick would ACTUALLY end up doing, that didn’t match up to the pitch Roy actually gave Dick to GET his agreement.....because Roy all along was of the assumption that by virtue of being Dick Grayson, he wouldn’t be ABLE to avoid connecting with these new teammates and viewing them as family, and thus he’d end up ‘snapping out of it’ with it being the funk he’d been in since Donna’s death.

Roy’s intentions might have been noble, once again.....but his methods stuck to the same pattern of people around Dick believing they knew what he needed or knew who he was or knew what it meant to BE Dick Grayson....better than Dick actually did...particularly when Dick said no, this isn’t what I need or this isn’t a good idea or just...I don’t want to do this.

And in the end....its Dick who ended up paying the price for it, as well as the people who got hurt because of his INTENTIONAL emotional distance.....because the ‘view all surrounding people as new surrogate family’ aspect of the Dick Grayson Experience hadn’t kicked in as Roy thought inevitably would....but the ‘view all this as directly my fault and suffer guilt for it forevermore’ aspect of the Dick Grayson Experience most certainly did! Not at all actually helped along by the fact that like....Roy also expressed frustration with Dick that like.....Dick hadn’t actually responded to Roy’s intended manipulation of his emotions the way Roy had expected him to when he EXPRESSLY TOLD DICK TO BEHAVE THE WAY THAT DICK ULTIMATELY BEHAVED. (Just, he didn’t tell Dick to dial that all the way up to Extra, but given that’s the only setting Dick does ANYTHING at, I feel its a possible outcome Roy should have at least considered. I mean, wasn’t the whole point that you know Dick Grayson better than he knows himself?)

But lo, I am salty.

LMAO, but I mean, you get it right? Obviously, I LIKE Wally and Roy. I LIKE Jason, etc. I’m not saying all of this to be like ugh how dare these characters do all this to Dick....I’m saying it because like.....they all keep falling into the same patterns of making a big fuss and acknowledgment of how much Dick prioritizes being able and free to make his own choices and decide what’s best for him and what HE wants.....

But without ever like....actively asking him AT THE RELEVANT TIME....what he thinks and feels about all this. What he thinks and feels he needs. What he ACTUALLY wants from them, or why he’s ACTUALLY saying no to something and maybe it being for reasons that aren’t just him inherently being stubborn and self-destructive.

And instead just defaulting to falling back on whatever he might have said or expressed in an entirely different context at an entirely different time.....and saying okay, by doing so, we are abiding by his wishes and thus doing what he wants and respecting his right to make his own choices.....

But ONLY when doing all of the above just so happens to align with these other characters then getting to do the thing or take the approach they’re already predisposed towards wanting to take because of their OWN self-interests at the same time.

With this never actually coming into play when respecting Dick’s wishes aligns with them taking actions they DON’T personally want to undertake, because it makes them uncomfy or they think its a bad call, even if it is something that should be his call to make.

Like....the pattern. It very much exists. And abounds. Like I could cite examples allllllllllll the way up to Ric Grayson, where Bruce respected RIC’S wishes to be left alone and not interfere in his life no matter what.....in ways Bruce almost never respects Dick’s actual expressed wish for Bruce to butt out of matters when Bruce is actually quite keen on meddling and would very much like to....

But notice how the other thing about the Ric Grayson storyline is that Ric’s expressed desire to stay the fuck out of vigilantism and superhero work, like.....just so happens to align with Bruce’s longstanding desire for Dick to like...get out of the vigilantism and superhero work? With butting out of Ric’s life and respecting his privacy in ways Dick has to FIGHT him for, like......absolutely the optimal action to take in order to allow this expressed desire of Ric’s to flourish in the ways Bruce always wished would kick in for Dick?

.....just saying.

The pattern. It abounds.

And the key to breaking any pattern, of course, is to first recognize....and acknowledge....that it exists.

Otherwise you tend to fall into the trap of repeating and perpetuating it over and over without even realizing it, simply because its what’s familiar.

This has been A Post by Me. Thank you and have a nice day. Or don’t. Idk. I’m not the boss of you. Whatever.

162 notes · View notes

chihomichannel · 4 years ago

Text

i wish you all the happiness in the world

| pairing: oikawa tooru x short female! reader | summary: In which you loved each other for all this time but timing was never on your side | genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, kinda smut but not really | warnings: MANGA SPOILERS, cursing, alcohol, NOT EDITED ‘cause i’m tired | word count: 6964 words | a/n: hi hi! this is my first haikyuu ff. hope you like it! ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ i have to say though, i’m not really satisfied with this smh. it’s more like a summary of an entire fanfic i’ve thought for oikawa siiigh. this also was kinda rushed by the end ‘cause i wanna post it already jhbksdjna

icon used

You treasure your time back in childhood. Whenever you think back to those days, you would be reminded of the times you spent with Oikawa and Iwaizumi by your side. Still young and ignorant to the world other than your own little bubble, you played around and made memories that even years later, you could still remember what you felt back then. What it felt like to pull on your sister’s hair and the terror that went with it, what it felt like to accidentally injure yourself after you tried copying that one commercial you saw on TV, what it felt like to trip over your own feet as you dived head first to receive a ball for the first time - and with all those times of stupidity and utter fun, Oikawa and Iwaizumi was always there. You don’t even remember the first time you met them. All you knew was that they were already a part of your life for as long as you could remember.

You and Oikawa are next-door neighbors and Iwaizumi lives just right around the corner by the end of the street. For everyday that passed by, you three were always joined at the hips. You can’t even remember a time in your childhood that you weren’t with either of the two. Or maybe it was because it was so long ago that you don’t remember everything now that you’re a bit older.

But a distinct memory of Oikawa forcing both you and Iwaizumi’s pinkies to his as he shouted in promise “Someday, we’ll make it all to nationals!” Nationals. What a fancy word for such young dreamers.

But hence, when you reached the age of kindergarten, your parents made it a mission and a promise to always, always enroll the three of you in the same school. They thought your friendship was cute and special. Even everyone in the neighborhood found your little group endearing. They could never imagine one without the other two or either of the bunch. You would always be three and that would never change. At least that was the ideal reality that everyone imagined for you three.

Though that ideal friendship remained true for years and years. But in your final year of middle school, that was when everything shifted its course.

It was when Oikawa and you were alone in between the two gyms that separated the boy’s volleyball team and the girl’s volleyball team. You were a setter, a genius setter. And during that time, you didn’t know the animosity Oikawa held towards genius volleyball players. So when he told you “You’re a really great setter” And with the small smile accompanied by those fluttering words, a great wave of pride swelled in your chest to hear such a comment from such a great setter, a tinge of pink painted across your cheeks.

You let out a small shy “Thank you” Your eyes stuck on the ground with your hair hiding your reddening cheeks. You didn’t notice the slight quirk in the corners of his smile. Too busy with your head in the clouds, you failed to notice the envy that flashed through his dark chocolate-brown eyes.

While you were busy pining over your new realized feelings, Oikawa was also busy over his conflicting feelings for you. You were his friend, his best friend along with Iwaizumi. So why does he harbor so much jealousy towards you? It was him who got you into volleyball in the first place. It was him who dragged you out of bed every morning for as long as he could remember just to play volleyball. But seeing you do so much better than him, even when he would never face you on the court, he couldn’t help but feel insecure in your presence.

He thinks he could do more, be better and surpass every living genius in the world of volleyball. He wants to be the best. He needs to be much much better. And with the green-eyed monster controlling his need to be the best, without knowing it, he held a resentment against you.

And you, none the wiser of your friend’s bitterness towards you, you found more reasons to be around Oikawa more. More than you already do. Which to be honest did not help calm the growing storm Oikawa harbors in his heart. You always just seem to be everywhere and seeing you always reminds him of what he’s lacking. Feelings of guilt, envy and your sudden overwhelming presence is what drove him to finally snap. To finally pull the trigger and kill whatever’s left of his fondness towards you.

Iwaizumi had told you that Oikawa has been pushing himself much more than normal. Oikawa has been losing his cool and Iwaizumi has explained the pressure, the constant need to be better and the inferiority Oikawa feels towards players like Kageyama and Ushijima. But neither you nor Iwaizumi knew you were one of those Oikawa felt inferior to.

So one late afternoon, the sun has set and the sky is minutes away from dark. Hours after classes were dismissed and the rest of the players had been sent home, you entered the boy’s volleyball gym alongside Iwaizumi to see that Oikawa is still hell-bent on practicing.

You frowned. You could see how exhausted he was but still, he stood on his two feet, determined. Before you could even call out his name, Kageyama caught your attention as he made his way to his senior “Oikawa-san, please teach me how to serve”

As if something inside him snapped in half, Oikawa’s hand flew towards Kageyama only for Iwaizumi to catch his arm in time “Get a grip you moron!” Stunned silence echoed through the gym, only heavy breaths and wide eyes spoke volumes of what just happened. “I’m sorry” Oikawa relaxed and Iwaizumi let him go. But his eyes, he was just as shocked with his actions as much as everyone was.

“Kageyma, I’m sorry but we’re done for the day” Iwaizumi’s spoke and with that, Kageyama walked away, eyeing Oikawa warily as he passed him by.

“Tooru?” Your voice caught his attention. You being there sent him in overload and before he could stop himself, before Iwaizumi had the chance to stop the words that flew out of Oikawa’s mouth, he snapped once again. But this time, there was no stopping it.

“You!” He bellowed, you flinched “I hate you! I hate you and your presence and everything that is you!”

“Huh?” “Wha-? OI!”

“-Why are you always everywhere? Why do you have to be a part of my life? You’re always in my eyes! You’re always there and I am sick of it!” Oikawa huffed, tears brimming on his eyes. You’re already crying.

“You like me don’t you?”

He knows

“-Well I don’t like it! Stay away from me will you! You overwhelm me!”

He knows

You clenched your hand, shaking.

“-WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE A SETTER?!” With a frustrated cry, Oikawa dropped to his knees and suddenly, you realize.

‘He hates me’ You thought. You didn’t even dwell as to why when you ran out the gym. You heard Iwaizumi call out your name but you ignored him and ran. You ran and ran until your lungs forced you to stop, tumbling down to your knees as you sobbed in the empty road under the street light.

You can’t understand for the life of you. Had you been mean to him? Have you done something wrong? Or is it because he knows you like him and he doesn’t feel that way towards you. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. His mother doesn’t really help as she always gushes about how you should be her future daughter-in-law. You had overwhelmed him and now he hates you.

It was only the night before Monday did you remember what he last told you.

“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE A SETTER?”

‘Ah’ you thought as you realized the roots of his new found resentment towards you.

Oikawa has always been ambitious and successful at whatever he sets his mind into. But he was no genius and his skills were practiced, it did not come naturally. You remembered those times he ranted about Ushijima and how unbelievably strong he is. And Kageyama and how he’s younger yet so much better than he is. And then there’s you.

He had never complained about you. Or at least none that you knew about. You should have realized when people started calling you a genius. You should have noticed the change of his demeanor towards you. How he doesn’t smile genuinely anymore. How you weren’t actually friends anymore.

You didn’t love volleyball and maybe that’s one of the reasons why he hates you. Or maybe that’s the exact reason why. You don’t even love it yet you’re so good at it. No wonder he was frustrated about you. He’s not just envious about your skills, he’s also frustrated to see you obtain something he wants when you’re only half-hearted into the game. It was a reminder that no matter how hard he pushed himself, there would always be some genius that would trample over his hardened efforts.

You couldn’t believe how fast you could go from liking someone to hating them the next.

You avoided him after that incident. You avoided him like the plague. You still talk to Iwaizumi though but not as much as before. You distanced yourself from them and before you knew it, you had graduated.

Over the summer, that was when people noticed the shift in the dynamic of your friendship. The three became two and you’re now only one. You don’t leave your house, not even when Iwaizumi called out your name for an hour because you knew Oikawa would be there.

Oikawa did not make any effort to reconcile with you and it annoyed you to no end. It was always Iwaizumi acting as the mediator but eventually, even he gave up. It was tiring to force two people to reconcile when neither party wanted anything to do with the other.

It doesn’t mean Oikawa didn’t feel guilty. His guilt was one of the reasons why he exploded and it was also guilt that made him ashamed of facing you. You were a precious friend, a childhood friend, a person who’s known him for so long. A person who knows him better than his family and yet he pushed you away.

And now you won’t come back.

At the opening ceremony in high school, he waited for you. He thought that he would make peace with you. Apologize once and for all. You were already in high school for god’s sake. You had let the whole summer wash away the broken pieces of your friendship with no way of reconciliation. You had wasted a whole summer and Oikawa’s determined to bring everything back to where it was. Even if it meant to pick up all the pieces of the broken fragments of your strained friendship. He would do so. Because you’re precious to him, more than you nor he could understand.

But you never came. And at once, all that courage and determination in him was also washed away.

You went to Karasuno for high school and swore your soul to the gods that exist that you would never ever step foot into a volleyball court ever again. You had decided to quit on volleyball. Sure, you were a genius at it but you didn’t love it. At least not as much as some people you know. But that promise was also thrown away when Sugawara, a classmate, begged you to be their manager.

He was resolute and you were annoyed. And so you rejected his offer. Though that did not stop him from pestering you, begging you down to his knees which is why you found yourself watching a practice match held in the school’s volleyball gym.

‘They’re weak’ You thought. You didn’t really care as you watched the team pathetically lost. You could not stress enough the difference in power between your school and the away team. It was truly and utterly pitiable.

You had heard about the tale of the once powerhouse that is Karasuno and you wondered what happened. You learned that your school had once managed to make it to the nationals so why is the team so weak now? No coach, no manager, just players.

You were already leaving, indifferent to your school’s volleyball team when your ears perked up on an insult, an insult that sent you to overdrive and before you knew it, you were screaming. You screamed at your school’s team. You screamed a vow, a vow to get them to nationals once again. And so beyond your belief, you were on the court once again. Though this time, you were only at the side.

It was in the Interhigh Tournament did you and Oikawa look at each other once again. His eyes were wide while yours was determined, glaring at him as if challenging him. He knew of your abilities and how well you could use that to coach others. He knew you could use that to examine opponents and use that knowledge against them. You were a genius that way. And so seeing you in the opponent’s team as their manager made him nervous. Just because you were a manager doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be able to help the team technically.

But how can you help a team that doesn’t want your help in the first place? It was only you and your other fellow first years that were bitter when you lost in the first round. Your seniors seemed to accept that your team just wasn’t good enough. And the frustration sent you to silent tears as you questioned your decision of being involved in volleyball again.

And Oikawa, being the ever jackass that he is, used the opportunity to tease you. An excuse to talk to you. And imagine the delight he felt when you gave him the attention. And so started the rivalry you never imagined you would have with him.

You thought that maybe if he hadn’t chosen to tease you that day, you would’ve quit the volleyball club. And maybe if he hadn’t teased you that day, you would have probably never talked again.

Three years passed and it was your last year at high school. With the addition of promising first years, you faced off against Aoba Johsai in the Spring Interhigh Qualifiers. Karasuno won and would face off Shiratorizawa for the finals. You should be glad, ecstatic even. So why are you sad? Why are you mourning for your childhood friends’ loss? Why won’t you look away from the opponent and celebrate with your team?

But how could you when you could see the two special people in your life fight off the tears that threatened to stream down their eyes. And the night after Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa, you thought ‘Nationals’

You were the only one who made it to Nationals. And you weren’t even a player.

The thought of that stupid childhood promise left a bitter taste on your mouth.

๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ๋࣭

The high of the nationals died down once it was over and you and your fellow third years now focus on studying for the finals and upcoming university entrance exams. It was dismissal time and having no volleyball club activities any more, you head straight home, parting ways with Sugawara at the intersection.

You sighed. The sky is orange with hues of pink, purple and blue painting the sky gradient. You had arrived by your house’s gate when you heard the ruckus of voices. Male voices. So you turn and lo and behold, it was Oikawa, Iwaizumi and number 2 and 3 from what you could remember.

They turn to look at you and their ruckus dies down. You turned your back at them, already opening the gate when Iwaizumi called out your name. You turn your focus back at them “Would you mind tutoring us?”

“Please, she’s bad at math” Oikawa commented. You felt a nerve pop out of your neck “You bitch, you suck at everything but volleyball!”

“Excuse me, I’m in class 6-” “Doesn’t matter”

Iwaizumi could only sigh as Matsukawa and Hanamaki watched in amusement. ‘So you’re the famous childhood friend’ they thought.

You and Oikawa stared down at each other, neither backing down. For added effect, you crossed your arms which earned a snort from the setter “Please?” Iwaizumi pleaded. With a sigh, you looked at your friend “Fine. I’ll just tell mom first”

Why did you accept? You didn’t know. But you knew you didn’t mind being around Oikawa now. Though you don’t really trust him, not anymore.

Your mom was surprised to hear you would be going to Oikawa’s house. It’s been years and she could not hide the glee on her face as she practically pushed you out of the house. With a deep breath, you made your way to his house.

The door opened to his mother who, like your mom, albeit a bit more enthusiastic, was ecstatic beyond relief at the sight of you. She asked you continuously without giving you any chance to reply “Did you finally make up? Are you friends again? You’re talking again? How splendid! Why did you stop talking in the first place? I was so sad. I missed you so dearly. It wasn't the same without you”

She kept on beaming and you only replied in awkward chuckles, not wanting to kill her joy and tell her you still very much held a grudge against her son. But fortunately, she left you to the company of the four boys who sprawled all around the couch, bags thrown at the side with the television on in a music channel. A girl group is performing.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be studying?”

“Shh, Miho-chan is singing” Oikawa held a finger on his lips. You could only grimace at their focus on the girl group. Maybe you should go now.

But before you could even turn around, Iwaizumi had turned off the TV much to the boys’ protests “Fanboy later you horny scumbags”

“You know I’m here, right?” You say and Iwaizumi sent you an apologetic smile.

“You don’t count as a girl anyway so it doesn’t really matter” You felt your heart drop at Oikawa’s comment. You frowned, dropping your books down on the coffee table with a slam. The three boys jumped, startled. They were sitting down on the floor when you did that.

With a huff, you sat down at the end of the table while Matsukawa and Hanamaki sat beside each other and across from them sat Oikawa and Iwaizumi “So-” You cleared your throat as they looked at you in synchrony “-what is it you need help in?”

๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ๋࣭

You looked up to the digital clock hanging on the wall. 8:47 pm, it read “Aren’t you guys gonna go home?”

Oikawa is fast asleep on the coffee table, head resting in his arms. Matsukawa has given up on his practice test and Hanamaki sat spaced out. It was only Iwaizumi whose focus is still on his notes. Even you gave up 15 minutes ago, feeling your head ache as the words start swirling incoherently in your mind.

You received a hum of reply, everyone focused on their own little worlds. You sighed, closing your book and tucking in the notes in your bag in a hurry. You stood up, groaning at the ache that has built up on your legs from hours of sitting. The others noticed this and copied your actions, slowly standing up and slinging their bags on their shoulders “You all should rest for the day. Just continue tomorrow”

Iwaizumi did not budge from his position and you walked out of the living room to the front door, Matsukawa and Hanamaki hot on your heels. Once you were outside, you were about to bid them goodbye when Hanamaki beat you to it “Hey, I’ve been thinking. Why didn’t you go to Seijoh?”

Matsukawa hit Hanamaki in the back of his head, earning a hiss from the latter “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that”

“Why? Did they talk about me?” Your smile was sad it could come off as a frown. The two boys looked at you sheepishly and you chuckled, turning away from them as you unlocked your gate “We’ve heard the three of you were close and that something happened. They didn’t really elaborate. You’re a really touchy subject” This made you laugh

“Damn” You turned back around to face them to see that they’re still on the same spot, waiting for your response. But you only gave them half a smile, bid goodbye and entered your house.

The next day, you slept through your alarm. Only waking up when your mother woke you up with a screech. And so you skipped on breakfast, snatching a biscuit from the top of the refrigerator and dashed out of your house. Only to be met with Oikawa getting on his bike, obviously late like you are.

“Shouldn’t you be at morning practice?” “Shouldn’t you know that 3rd years don’t go to practice anymore?” You rolled your eyes.

“Geez, how could I know? I don’t go to your school, dumbass” Oikawa pedaled to match your pace “You sound like Iwa-chan, chibi-chan~”

You held your tongue, though your frown failed to conceal your annoyance. Oikawa gazed at you, pursing his lips as you refused to look at his way “Hop on, chibi-chan. No matter how fast you go, you’ll still be late with those tiny legs of yours”

“Can you shut up?!” “What? Is that your best retort? How lame~” You kicked the wheel of his bike sending him trembling out of balance “Hey!”

You huffed. You did not sign up for so much annoyance so early in the morning. You groaned, head looking up at the sky in exasperation when Oikawa blocked your way “Please, please get hit by a truck” Oikawa looked offended

“Ouch, chibi-chan. Just hop on already, you know I’m right” He gave you a grin which only aggravated you more “No”

“Don’t be so stubborn, little girl” “I am not little” “Your height says otherwise” “I’ll kill you!”

Both of you were locked out of the gate that day.

Your review with the four boys continued everyday after school. As well as your morning walk to the school being bombarded by Oikawa. When he learned what time you go to school, Oikawa made it his mission to walk with you. Always biking at your pace as he ranted on and on much to your dismay. You had begged Iwaizumi to go to school with the two of you since Oikawa doesn’t give any signs of giving up on you. But Iwaizumi only gave you a grunt for a response, mumbling about respecting his sleep.

And came one Friday morning, 2 weeks left of school and 3 days before university entrance examinations. Oikawa is waiting by your gate as always and hopped on at the sight of you “Morning, chi-bi-chan~”

Closing your gate, he waits for you to walk but was pleasantly surprised when you sat on the back of his bike “Huh?”

“Bike” You said and so he did. He began telling a story about Iwaizumi tripping in front of his crush, elaborating on what happened that day. And you, you were uncharacteristically quiet.

Usually, you’ll banter with him. And so when you called out his name, Oikawa could feel that you were about to say something heavy. So he continued rambling, zoning out your voice and filling the air with his words.

“Tooru” He paused, his heart thundering against his chest. It has been years since he last heard you call him by his name “Yeah?”

“Why are you acting like we’re friends” Oikawa let out a strained smile but you didn’t see

“Damn, that hurts y/n-chan” He said in jest but you could hear the genuine hurt in his voice. Oikawa felt your hand tighten as you clutch on the back of his jacket.

“Tooru-” You leaned your head against his back ‘-it’s weird how this makes me feel happy but hurt’ You thought

“Tooru-” ‘-I’m glad we’re talking again’

Oikawa could feel his heart go erratic, longing for whatever that is on your mind. Voice it out, he thought. Voice it out. But you don’t

“Tooru-” ‘-how come I still like you?’

That night, everyone is staying over at Oikawa’s house except for you. It would be weird considering you’re the only girl and your parents didn’t let you. But here you were, shivering in the cold as you knocked on the window outside Oikawa’s room. He was there because it was him who called you out at 2 in the morning, begging you to come. You shouldn’t have come but you couldn’t really resist him. Not even after all these years. Not even after convincing yourself to move on from him.

You’re whipped and you’re annoyed by it.

‘He’s a jackass’ You think as he holds your hand to support you down ‘He shouted at you. Never apologized, rejected you before you even had a chance to confess. He’s an annoying son of a bitch’

Your heart flutters when you stumble against his chest, Oikawa holding you by the shoulders to steady you “You’re cold” He says, his breath raining down on your hair. His breath was hot and your cheeks turned warm.

You fought the urge to look up at him but when he wrapped a blanket around you, your eyes unconsciously made its way to his face to see he was glowing red despite the darkness of his room.

“The others are in the living room” He says, pulling you down with him on his bed. Shuffling of sheets echoed around the room as Oikawa dived under the blanket. He had his arm under you while his other pulled you to his chest. He kept his arms around you, his chin on your head as you flushed yourself to his chest.

You could feel his heart, beating its way out of his chest. His heart slowly lulling you to sleep. He called out your name. You reluctantly pulled your head away from his chest and looked up at him “Hm?”

Oikawa bite his tongue, mulling over the words in his head. Should he tell you right now? What would your reaction be? He doesn’t want to hurt you again. He doesn’t want to repeat the same mistakes. He doesn’t want this moment to stop. For the world to pause and let him hold you close to him.

He thinks it over - deciding he should tell you soon. But not know. Not when your cheeks are red, your half-lidded eyes glossy as you gazed at him longingly. Oikawa leans in, planting a soft kiss to your forehead that tells you exactly what he feels. You could feel yourself shrink under the affection.

You didn’t notice that you fell asleep. Did not know that his eyes scanned every nook and crevices of your face. How beautiful you looked to him. How you would always be the prettiest in his eyes. How he looked at you so utterly and deeply in love it hurts to know that the time is ticking.

Oikawa brushes the strand of hair on your face, pushing it behind your ears in an agonizingly slow pace. He takes his time feeling your skin, placing his lips on your forehead and falls asleep with your warmth wrapped against his.

After that night, you and Oikawa grew more affectionate with each other. Sure, you still banter. That would never change. But there was a shift in the air and you knew there was something in there. But neither of you admitted anything. Still friends but much more than just that. Nothing was official and no one acknowledged the elephant in the room.

And you were glad it was never official. Because after graduation, Oikawa’s mom threw a party for him. A graduation party. A farewell party.

It seems like night brings out the intimacy that the morning shies away. Oikawa had led you to the playground behind your house. You remembered playing here with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, practicing volleyball as always.

You climbed up the slide and sat down at the top, letting your feet dangle on the edge. Oikawa sat beside you, his long legs dangling down beside yours. You studied the difference and smiled to yourself.

“I’m going to Argentina” He says, refusing to look at you. His hands are pulled into a fist, trembling. You placed your hand on top of his, his shaking stops as he finally looks your way “That’s great” You said, and you mean it.

He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. So you held his cheeks, head tilting to the side “It has always been your dream, Tooru. I can’t believe it’s finally happening”

“It’ll be hard” You snort “Of course. It’s Argentina dude. Japan is still miles away from their skills” Your eyes glint at that, giving Oikawa a determined smile “But we’ll beat you, just you wait”

“I’ll win first” And he means it. You laugh, hand dropping from his cheeks “I’ll look forward to it”

Oikawa gazes at you with so much adoration in his eyes. You were the only person who didn’t tell him his plans were stupid. And he loves you for that.

“I love you” he was the first to crack. Your cheeks turn red, expression shy at his intense gaze “I-I love you too” You stutter, a bit overwhelmed.

Oikawa chuckles “You’re cute” His words don't really help to die down the red in your cheeks. In fact, it only worsens it “Shut up” You grumble indignantly and he laughs.

“Hey, will you be my girlfriend?” At this, you looked at him with a sad smile.

“We can’t” Oikawa knew your answer before he even asked. But he didn’t expect the pain would hurt that much.

“Can’t we try?” His voice is painful and it broke your heart to see him so broken “Tooru” He looks at you pleadingly and he speaks

“I think I've been in love with you all this time. But to be honest-” He bitterly chuckles “-I was envious of you more than I liked you"

"And that's why it's a no" you smiled sadly.

"You love volleyball, Tooru. More than anything else. More than you. More than me" The atmosphere was somber. Until a thought passed by your mind and you tittered.

"More than milk bread" The both of you giggled.

"Yeah...more than milk bread"

Neither of you moved. Not even when the sun rose from its sleep and in a few hours, he'll leave.

He'll leave.

And you have to let him go. Even though he's right there beside you. So close yet so far away. He's there and he loves you. But for his dreams. For him.

You let him go.

And then he's gone. On the other side of the world, thousands and millions of miles away from you. And you regret the three years that could've been so much more if the two of you hadn't been so stupid and so prideful.

And just like that, years and years passed. Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi left abroad and only you stayed. Though you did move to Tokyo and worked at a hospital for a few months until the opportunity to work as an assistant manager and physical therapist for MSBY Black Jackals came up. You could only thank the stars for connections. In this field, you only get a chance if someone in it knows you. And luckily for you, you know a ton of them from your years as a manager back in high school.

It’s 2021 and 8 years have passed and you remained in contact with Oikawa. Though you don’t talk as much as you two now have your own separate lives. He has volleyball and you have your athletes. And of course, during the course of those 8 years, the both of you had dated several people. Some long term, some not so long. And inside those 8 years, you’ve finally convinced yourself you’ve moved on from Oikawa Tooru.

The olympics is this year and along with Iwaizumi, you were pulled in to be a manager and their physical therapist. You had made quite the reputation in the industry. What with your genius mind for volleyball, opponent teams that know you fear your analytical skills and your ability to use that knowledge for the benefit of your team. Really, all professional volleyball teams want you. It just so happens that it was MSBY Black Jackals that called you first.

Oikawa doesn’t know that you and Iwaizumi are part of the Japan team. And so when his team emerged, ready to face old rivals, Oikawa swore his eyes jumped at the sight of you and Iwaizumi.

Your heart swelled with pride, lips outstretched to a big smile. You’re proud of him, so so much.

You could only yelp when Oikawa sprinted towards you and pulled you and Iwaizumi in a tight hug. It’s been such a long time since you saw each other. And a thought passed by your head.

The three of you didn’t make it all in the nationals, but you sure did all go to the olympics.

When Japan lost and Argentina won, you didn’t find it in yourself to be sad. Instead, you were happy. Ecstatic. Euphoric. You’re so proud of everyone, of your teammates and rivals. To have made it this far, they were truly beyond just amazing.

๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ๋࣭

“You could stay with me” Oikawa says nonchalantly as he takes your bag from your hand, the hubbub of the crowd ringing in your ears as you exit the airport “My car’s right here” He tells you as you near a red sports sedan. Unlocking the car, he placed your bag at the backseat as you sat at the passenger's seat.

You’re in Argentina for the weekend for a seminar for sports physical therapists. Just two days, sure nothing could happen for such a short time.

“Nah, just drive me to a hotel” Oikawa gazed at you mischievously

“What? Afraid I’ll do something?” You threw a box of tissue at him “Shut up bitch” He laughed, taking a seat before starting the car “So you are”

“Please” You scoff.

You ended up staying at his guest room.

His house is in an apartment - a kitchen, a couch, a TV, a fucking gym, and pictures on the wall. His apartment is surprisingly cozy, you noted.

You dropped your phone on the bed, collapsing in fatigue. Your eyes were about to flutter shut when Oikawa’s voice boomed in the room “You should shower. Ya stinky from the flight” You rolled your eyes.

You reluctantly pushed yourself out of bed, passing by him and snatching the towel from his hands. You noticed he already changed into a shirt and shorts. You could see the outline of his muscles, lining down his chest. His thighs in view, you tried hard not to stare.

But of course, Oikawa being the ever asshole that he is, comments “Take a picture! It’ll last!”

Once shower was over, you fell down beside him on the couch, the television on in the sports channel. It’s Schweiden Adlers against Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets. You smiled thoughtfully at the sight of Ushijima and Goshiki on TV.

“What time tomorrow is your seminar again?” Oikawa asks, passing you the milk break from the coffee table. You took it “8 in the morning until 5” He hums, bread down his throat.

“Wanna go out after? My practice ends at the same time” You yawn “Sure”

True to his words, he picked you up from the university 30 minutes after five. Oikawa took you everywhere, to the beach, to a restaurant, to a park, even to a club. Which is probably why he’s dragging your drunk ass to his apartment at 1 am.

You slipped from his arms and landed on the floor with a thud “Shit” You heard him curse under his breath as he hurriedly closed the door behind him. You felt arms curl around yours causing you to giggle “That tingles”

“How can you get drunk from 2 glasses of vodka?” He mused but you only giggled at him. Oikawa glanced at the clock, 1:42 am. Sighing, Oikawa put a hand under your knees and back, carrying you bridal style to your room.

“Tooru” You exhaled, your hot breath sticking to his face as he laid you down gently on the bed. Gulping, Oikawa turned away, grabbing the blanket to put it over you. He felt your hand enclose his cheek, forcing his gaze to you.

Your cheeks are red, illuminated by the moon that is the only light source in the room. Your hair is a mess and your breath stinks of vodka. Your eyes are closing, hands collapsing on your side as you exhale, dropping your head on the pillow. Oikawa notes the way your eyelashes squint and the mole in your left eyelid. And suddenly, Oikawa felt like he was eighteen again.

You could feel his breath, hear his heavy breathing and you flutter your eyes open. You shrink under his gaze, lips parting unconsciously and Oikawa fought with all his might not to kiss you right there and then. His eyes are half-lidded, filled with desire, longing, and love.

Love. Suddenly, you’re not so drunk anymore.

“Tooru” You breathed out in a soft voice. As if something in him snapped, his lips zoomed into yours in a passionate heated kiss. You moan, slinging your arms on his nape, pulling him closer to you until he was in between your thighs.

“Tooru” You slipped out when he removed his lips on yours only to kiss you again. You could feel the heat of his skin on yours as you pulled and pulled him closer as humanly possible. 8 years flashed through your eyes and all you could think about was how good it feels to have his lips nipping on your neck.

He moans your name, fingers combing through your hair in a desperate attempt to feel all of you. He’s wanted you for so long he couldn’t think straight when he felt your hands dig under his shirt, the cold of your hands digging into his back. He groans, kissing you again in the lips before letting you slip his shirt off his shoulders.

You hum, pulling away to kiss his collarbone, hands feeling his chest down to his abdomen. You felt him tug your shirt and you giggled into his chest, taking your shirt off only for Oikawa to roam his hands on your back, to your front then to your chest. He pressed a soft peck on the flesh of your breasts that wasn’t covered by your bra and he looked up at you and asked “Are you sure?”

“Yes” You exhaled and that was all it took for Oikawa to push you gently deeper to the bed, enjoying the feeling of his fingers working its way down to your legs. He took off your pants, Oikawa took a deep breath at the sight of your cunt. He goes back up to you, nuzzling his head into your neck and whispers “God, the things you make me feel” He airly chuckles.

You took a hold of his cheeks, kissing his eyes, his nose then his lips “I love you”

“I love you too”

“God, I’m nervous” Oikawa starts, jumping lightly as he holds your hand. You rolled your eyes but a smile plastered on your face. You grin at him and he continues “I’ve been an idiot for a very long time-” He pauses and smiles

“-still am” You snort “-but a tad bit better now that I’m with you” A soft, endeared smile crept onto your lips

“I won’t say that I don’t regret all those years that I could’ve been with you. But we both know that was crucial and all that matters is that now I’m with you” His eyes shone and his lips creased into a smile that reached his ears

“I promise to never leave you,” he pushes the ring into your left ring finger “-not even death can do us apart” You hear your family and friends laugh in the background

“I will bother you every step of the way-” you could not help the roll of your eyes “-and love you for the rest of my life”

“Actually, scratch that. I’ll love you even when I die. I’ll love you in my next life. And the one after that, and the one after that. No matter how many times I reborn-” Oikawa takes your hands to his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his soft lips on your knuckles

“-I vow to find you and love you. Like I’ve always had and always will”

For all of your life, Oikawa Tooru has been a constant even at times you wish he wasn’t. There was a time you loathed him, a time you missed him, a time you forgot him, and a time you realized you will never stop loving him.

And as you stand before your creator, in front of your friends and family, promising to love each other till the end of time. The sound of “I do”s and cheers reverberating around the hall, as he kissed you with a tilt of his head.

You fell in love all over again.

i suck at ending lines ajhbsnckl. i’ma edit this later when i ain’t tired AND hungry

#oikawa torū #oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru imagines #oikawa angst #oikawa fluff #oikawa smut #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #oikawa haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa oneshot #chihomichannelhq

192 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you.

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily.

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.”

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.”

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently.

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun.

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes.

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease.

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.”

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips. He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time.

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?”

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave.

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta smut #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #dom aizawa

980 notes · View notes

unknownwriting · 4 years ago

Note

Same!! Aside from the top 3 you listed, I generally don’t hate any character. Sure, if I see a bad character, I’d either go “Ehhh, I’m willing to forgive you... to some extent” or just “Nope, I dislike you”. But I don’t immediately think of them (except for those 3) when I go to my mental “hated characters” list. Thanks for answering 😊

Also, guessing request are open since your recent post said so, but the description says it’s closed...? I’m gonna take your word for it, and hopefully don’t offend you 😅

May I request Crocodile, Lucci and Kid with a crush on a fem. reader that’s a hopeless romantic? Just thought the dynamics would be adorable with how their personalities are portrayed >w<

As for what I personally classify as a hopeless romantic... it’s not so much the suaveness or charm. Sure, we love ourselves a gentleman that can remind us chivalry is not dead, but it’s more about finding “the one”. And “the one”, which we’re meant to find (kinda like a soulmate), has got to be able to show their sincerity. You can shower me in gold without the most genuine of feelings behind it, and I’d take one look at you, scowl and walk away. Small actions are weighed more heavily if the feelings behind them are sincere. A paper crane with a sweet note on it? My heart would straight up melt.

Figured it’d be interesting since I can imagine them trying to win her over with their perfectly crafted facade only to have her grimace in response since it’s not entirely genuine. We hopeless romantics are “in love with love” and could love practically anyone, but that’s only if they’re sincere.

ｓｕｍｍａｒｙ- having a crush on a hopeless romantic

ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ - Eustass Kid, Lucci, Crocodile

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ - none :)

ａ/ｎ - Hopeless Romantic gang rise up 😫✊🏻 also akdjdid omg I totally forgot to even change the request until I saw your request. Thanks so much i hope you enjoy

unedited

Eustass Kid

This man?? Having a crush?? Not in a million years....well it must’ve been a million years because the Captain of the kid pirates has found himself crushing over a common bartender

There is not anything special about you anyways, just a girl around his age who is stubborn, easy to talk to, and cute. He could find someone like her almost anywhere, but the thing that got him was how stubborn she was.

Kid could flirt all day and try and get you to come with him. But you just wouldn’t come, turning him down each time. It was so frustrating, seeing how you didn’t even flinch when Kid spoke but it was also nice. Kid loves a good challenge.

Of course, didn’t stay on the island the whole time, he still had other things to do, but he did come back often to meet up with her. Kid was not gonna let a perfectly good challenge slip away from him. So it’s easy for y’all to quickly become friends with how often Kid comes by and visits you. It only then did Kid finally realize why you kept turning him down: you were a hopeless romantic searching for the one and as far as you were concerned Kid was not it

When you told him that though all he gave you in return was a confused face and a curse word. ‘The fuck is ‘the one’?’ Kid has never heard anything of the sort, and it didn’t come as a surprise either. Kid was a very loud, mean, frustrating guy who probably only slept around.

Now that the 2 of you got closer, you decided that you could at least tell me, explaining why he doesn’t have a chance. Going over what you imagine your soulmate is just gonna be like definitely grossed Kid out, but he still listens trying to use your explanation as a hint

Long story short it didn’t work that much. Kid was farther from the mark each time he tried. At least that’s what you thought, the more time you spent around the red-haired captain the more selected traits would stand out to you. Traits that you told kid yourself.

Although with the fear of finding the wrong one and only wanting Kid because he’s convent to you, you didn’t say a word not even a peep to him. There would be no way to know that he is the one he’s so different then what you thought. With doubt still sitting in the back of your mind, you decided to keep quiet for now. It wouldn’t be bad to just enjoy his company for a while

Crocodile

LMAOO AJSJSJD I KINDA FORGOT CROCODILE’S PERSONALLY WAS ALREADY TO FAR IN. I’m so sorry but I hope you still enjoy

As soon as Crocodile had laid his eyes on you, he knew exactly what type of person you were a troublesome girl who is still obsessed with finding the one, your soulmate.

He tries his best to stay away from people like you, but it’s hard to do that when your working for him. However he still tried his best to stay away, but then you just always appeared where he would be. You failed the realize it but Crocodile definitely noticed it and just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

From there on out he kept looking at you where ever he went, wondering when and if you would show up. That’s when he finally realized, he has a crush.

It took him a while to approach you and to even get you to talk, but once he was able to, he constantly, being subtle about it, tried to when you over with small gestures of romance.

Which of none has even persuaded you. You had the idea of falling in love with your soulmate. Crocodile can spoil you as much as he wants but that won’t change your mind.

Although the gift he did give you was sweet, somewhat unexpected. Some days it might be a rose, others it might be bracelets, other days it might be a bag of money. Half of the time you thought it was whatever he had on him at the moment.

Aside from gifts he also let a lot of paperwork side which was probably the best thing he could’ve done. But you still did them all, although he was acting very out of character and being unbelievably kind, there was no way you were to gonna take advantage of him.

It frustrated him, it really did. The fact that you didn’t even budge but at the same time he found it very admirable. Having such a strong will and not settling for anything better than your soul mate. It’s a nice challenge that he would definitely accept.

Rob Lucci

Each one of these men loves a good challenge. It’s just a known fact. So when Lucci learned that he was getting a new member on his team he treated her the same way he treated everyone: cold yet with respect. However, he failed to notice just the type of girl you were.

Talkative. Talking to everyone about anything. It’s doesn’t matter who it was you always found a way to talk to them. Whether it was Lucci or Kaku or just some random worker. You always found a way to talk

That was the first challenge. Just getting you to shut up, whether it was by intimation or if it was force, whatever it was, that was his first challenge what came next he has no intention of. You were....actually nice to talk to.

when you were rambling now Lucci could feel his expression loosely and a small, very small smile on his lips. You seemed to be a kinda nice person to talk to and Lucci doesn’t mind you. Maybe you were even nice enough to have a crush on.

With Lucci’s newfound crush, he had no idea what to even do. Besides a few nightstands, the man has never really been considered with the idea. and to make matters worse, he overheard you talking about ‘the one’ as if he was supposed to know what that means. After asking around a bit he was able to figure it out and concluded that he wasn’t it.

Although he wasn’t ’the one’, what’s a challenge if you don’t at least try. So starting with the first thing he could think of he slowly began to participate in the conversation with you. It was awkward and weird but you thought it was cute in his own little way. At least he was trying.

Surprisingly it didn’t take long for the 2 of y’all to warm up to each other. From there, Lucci was able to learn more about you and just how to win you over. He wasn’t as bold as the other 2 but he did try his best to make it noticeable.

You were definitely quick to catch on to his change and to what he was doing but being strong-willed and all you continued to turn him down. Lucci just wasn’t your type and you felt bad for telling him that but it was true. However, Lucci is not gonna give up on you that easily. Once Lucci accepts and challenges there’s no going back

#one piece x reader #one piece #unknownwriting💕#crocodile x reader #rob lucci x reader #rob lucci #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x reader

236 notes · View notes

zensharks · 4 years ago

Text

𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧 - 𝙙𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙘 𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙧

you create more questions in his mind than he would like - and what does one do when they have a question? they find the solution.

ᴀ/ɴ: ohhhh boy this is the longest, most dialogue-y piece i’ve written - i am very open to constructive criticism ^^ enjoy!!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

ᴡᴄ: 2.2k

he has loved you for longer than he thought possible. every chaste glance between the two of you he thought would be the death of him only led to stronger feelings, more knots tying in his chest, and less rationality. diluc is a reasonable man. love is an unreasonable feeling. and it was because of this that his love for you was so confusing - how could you ever feel the same? was it possible for another to feel with the same intensity? was there another fire that burned as bright as his? as he attempted to answer these questions, he hoped to the archons that you were the answer.

one particularly cool evening, he was closing the tavern for the night when you appeared, peering through the crack in the doorframe. he was so invested in his cleanup that your presence went unnoticed as he placed bottles back in their correct spots on the shelves. you softly cleared your throat, diluc whipping his head towards the source of the alarmingly sudden noise. the rapid movement caused his hair to hit a bottle that sat precariously, knocking it into the ones nearby. he quickly steadied them on the shelf before turning his attention to you, straightening his posture and brushing his gloved hands against the front of his shirt.

“what brings you here? the tavern will be closing soon.”

“oh, um-” you replied, searching for an reason for your presence that did not include his name, “wine?”

slightly bemused by your reply that seemed to disregard what he had told you, he coughed lightly. “o-of course. you can have a seat here, if you’d like.”

despite the fact that it was now past the closing hours, diluc was glad to let you stay. he was aware that nothing would come from time alone with you, but whether it was to slightly give in to his feelings or the fact that he held on to a shred of hope that they were exchanged, he began to pour you a glass.

“dandelion wine,” you remarked.

“of course. you order this consistently, every time you visit.”

diluc wasn’t always working at the tavern, rather, he was often stuck in his business at the winery. how did he know your usual? did he check the tavern’s order history? the realization that he made an effort to know more about you brought a flush to your cheeks, that diluc did not take notice of as his attention was fixed on pouring your drink. he promptly slid it across the bar towards you with a nod that you exchanged back at him in silent thanks. this silence continued for a moment - a moment longer than you or diluc would have liked. it weighed the air down, creating a pressure that pushed harder and harder on your skull as you looked down at the bar below you-

“why are you at the tavern?” you suddenly spoke up, a little too loudly, making diluc’s brow furrow slightly.

“i’m not sure i understand.”

“i meant why are you working in the city today? you’re usually at the winery, so i got the picture that you’re quite busy”

“ah, yes. in truth, the winery can feel rather dull. the business of the tavern is a nice change of scenery,” diluc explained as he continued cleaning the counter behind the bar.

“that makes sense, i can imagine how the same view every day could get a little repetitive, even if it is quite a sight.”

“of course. i don’t take the winery’s scenic location for granted, but after seeing the same cliffs every morning it can feel ordinary, to an extent.”

“naturally,” you agreed, taking a sip of your wine. the taste had a sort of gentle sweetness to it that filled your mouth with warmth.

the two of you were usually well-versed in conversation, as you often found yourself spending far too many hours at the counter of the tavern on the days that diluc was present. your talks lasted throughout the day as customers came and went, ogling at the sight of the famously stoic master diluc laughing at your jokes and gazing fondly at you with a soft smile as you told him about your recent commissions from the guild.

on one of these days as you were explaining to diluc the many troubles that dragonspine has given you, kaeya decided to make his grand appearance. the sight of his adoptive brother so immersed in a discussion with another was greatly amusing to kaeya, resulting in it being the topic of his teasing for many days to come. this got on diluc’s nerves more than many of his other jokes, resenting the sound of kaeya’s voice bursting through the tavern doors. however, kaeya’s interest in your and diluc’s strange dynamic faded as he moved onto other topics; but the feelings that the two of you shared did not, which is exactly what brought you to the tavern at such an hour.

you traced your forefinger around the rim of your glass as the silence returned after your small-talk fizzled out, the both of you waiting for the other to say something. and to diluc’s own surprise, he was the first to speak.

“have you been in love before, [y/n]?”

the shock from this very straightforward question was apparent on both of your faces, diluc’s face contorting into confusion as to why he would dare to utter such a thing.

“i think so,” you replied steadily, “have you?”

“i think so,” he repeated, after a momentary pause. “it’s strange - love is said to be wonderful, but in all truth it’s quite uncomfortable.” his words were now at the mercy of the wind, the bewilderment at his own sentences remaining plastered across his face as he silently begged for the anemo archon’s mercy.

“how so?” you pushed, wanting him to continue. you knew the point, it was simple to understand, he was just waiting for your green light.

“it’s not easy to read. the others’ thoughts are crucial, yet there’s no way to determine if the feelings are exchanged or one-sided. then arises the issue that if, in fact, the interest is not mutual, then it was futile from the beginning.” as diluc rambled he vigorously scrubbed at the same spot on the counter which had been polished to perfection many minutes ago. you let out a soft laugh at his uneasiness, the sound causing butterflies to fly through his stomach and out of his throat. he longed to hear your laugh again.

at this point, it was clear to you that diluc had similar feelings towards you. he was under the impression that you were not conscious of the way he was always gently studying your expression on your visits to the tavern, and his now very strong uneasiness in your presence, but on quite the contrary you were well aware. each action of yours that brought down his professional and polished front was another answer to your question that, yes, diluc ragnvindr has feelings for you. on the other hand, the winery owner himself was very unsure of your stance. he was so engrossed in keeping a hold on his own behaviours that he barely noticed yours - the way that your gaze always lingered after he had looked away, the frequent and seemingly aimless visits to the winery when diluc was not present at the tavern, and of course, your unexpected appearance at the door tonight. you did not hide your feelings for the ragnvindr, rather, he did not take notice. for this reason, the idea that you could even slightly return his feelings was far out of reach, if not impossible.

“and if it’s not futile?” you questioned, teasingly. your reply made diluc go red in the face, and with nothing to hide the fire that lit before you he was made to simply endure it.

“that’s not probable,” he stated matter-of-factly as he forced himself to regain composure. the tone in his voice implied he already knew the answer, but he could not have been more wrong.

“don’t be so sure.”

diluc was stubborn, but not totally oblivious. he was able to pick up on hints, or at least the more direct ones. knowing this, you were direct. this had his mind running circles as your eyes seemed to look directly through him, straight to his heart - he has lived with his questions for so long, that the idea of finding the answer is terrifying. the storm that had amassed in his head barely manifested itself for you to see; only in the smallest of gestures like the repetitive and almost mechanical way that he tucked the same loose strand of hair behind his ear, even when it had already been put in its place. he simultaneously loathed and relished in the way that you danced around the answer, loving the chase yet dreading the end.

“and why shouldn’t i be?” he challenged, his voice painted with more annoyance than he intended. your expression stiffened.

“i think you know why.” as much as you enjoyed the nature of your conversation, the end goal was tugging on your sleeves as you drew nearer.

diluc then proceeded to do something he had previously thought impossible. he slung over his shoulder the towel that had now nearly polished a hole in the counter, moving around to the front of the bar where you were seated. he could feel the beat of his heart in his head, the pace quickening as you stood up from your barstool. despite your certainty in the situation you couldn’t help but feel a hint of nervousness as diluc stood in front of you, eyes looking down piercing directly into yours. moving as if it was second-nature, diluc took one of your hands in his, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he snaked his free arm around the middle of your back. you instinctually brought your empty hand to the back of his neck, the touch sending a chill down diluc’s spine.

as the two of you stood silently, chest to chest, keeping both of your stares fixed on the other, diluc spoke up, “you’re right,” he breathed. if it weren’t for your closeness, his words would have been inaudible. “can i?”

the second you began to nod your head you were pulled into a kiss, stealing away any breath left in your lungs. it was chaste, gentle but with purpose. his lips said what his words could not. he was the first to pull away, the way that you relaxed into his touch swiftly forcing him back into reality; he refused to meet your gaze, the contrast to his previous actions forcing a small laugh out of you. there it was - that sound that he loved, again.

“yes,” you laughed, “you can.” you let go of his hand to place both of yours on the sides of his head, bringing his eyes to meet yours. “i told you, you knew why.”

with neither you nor him able to think coherently, you remained still for a moment, eyes locked on each other’s. any onlookers could only assume that this is where you would remain forever, the look that you shared and the weight in the air making you both appear to be roots planted in the ground.

diluc could not help but smile at the irony in the timing of your remark, a bit of confidence returning. “did you know i play piano?”

“i did not,” you replied with exaggerated formality, tilting your head with a slight smirk.

“i have a piano at the winery, would y-”

“i’d like to hear,” you interrupted, letting your hands fall from where they rested on his face.

“it’s quite late,” diluc points out, of course needing to take all considerations into account.

“i’m assuming you have a couch?”

“we have plenty of unoccupied guest bedrooms.”

“oh my, luxurious!” you grinned, drawing a similar expression out of diluc as he reached for a ring of keys.

wordlessly, he led you out of the tavern, the slightest of smiles remaining on his face and a more obvious one on yours. he shot you one final glance before locking the door as you gave him an affirming nod.

when you first entered the tavern that night, neither diluc nor you expected for the evening to end with both of you having confessed months worth of feelings within half an hour of conversation. diluc especially was in quite a haze of disbelief, unsure of what to do with the masses of doubt that had accumulated being suddenly reduced to nothing. moreover, he had acted solely driven by emotions with not a hint of rationality; it was rare that diluc was led by emotion, but your presence was enough to quell any logic or reason that he had established.

diluc lives his life driven by questions remaining unanswered. the resolve is unnecessary, and often underwhelming at best. however tonight, as diluc led you back to the winery surrounded by the cool evening air, he came to a realization: perhaps questions exist to be answered - and perhaps the answer is worth chasing.

✦ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥! 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 :)

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #diluc #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc fanfic #diluc headcanons #diluc ragnvindr #dawn winery #mondstadt #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr fanfic

170 notes · View notes

fandomsonrequests · 4 years ago

Text

first times

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: good kid/nerd!jeong yunho

reader: fem! punk

word count: 2.8k+

summary: your dynamic with Yunho always balanced each other out; he was the stability you needed and you provided the little excitement in his life. It was perfect. You two have learned a lot after introducing things to each other. Like showing off a few tricks at a party or how to organize your notes (which has been a big help to you and your notes spread all over the place).

There was one thing though that you were yet to try- and that was sex.

a/n: it’s ✨horny✨ hours. Also this was probably more intense than I had anticipated e.e please enjoy!

notes: smut, sub!yunho, dom!reader, size kink, Yunho is a virgin, piercings, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), some voyeurism

taglist: @galaxteez @latte-fairytaekwoon @sweetheartsannie

Your relationship with Yunho was something straight out of the movies where the good kid dates the rebellious punk of the campus. He wore soft, woolen sweaters that surprisingly went past his hands while you wore dark-colored leather. Your hair was dyed in bright colors while his hair was styled into neat curls. His lifestyle was calm, normal, always following the rules whilst yours was all about living fast and dying young.

Yet your dynamic always balanced each other out; he was the stability you needed and you provided the little excitement in his life. It was perfect. You two have learned a lot after introducing things to each other. Like showing off a few tricks at a party or how to organize your notes (which has been a big help to you and your notes spread all over the place).

There was one thing though that you were yet to try- and that was sex.

Yunho is a virgin, it’s one of the few things he told you when you first started dating. You understood though and you didn’t want to force him with anything. You’ve helped him explore a little bit though but it never reached anything past heavy making out with the occasional heavy petting. You would always drink in the furious blush on his round cheeks and ears. Or the way his swollen-kissed lips tempted you to fuck him silly. But you always held yourself back, always making sure to relieve yourself in the bathroom or whenever you were home first in your shared apartment.

Yunho would listen to you through the thin walls of the apartment, his hesitation and shyness preventing himself from talking to you about it. He had even almost walked in on you once when you were fucking yourself on the vibrating wand you kept in the back of the closet. He felt so dirty seeing your hips buck up into it, one of your hands grabbing and kneading at your breast while you moaned out his name. He felt dirty in retaining the image in his mind whenever he jerked himself off in the shower. But at the same time, he thought that this was one of the moments where you looked most beautiful, next to seeing your cute face in the morning.

So here you were, watching a classic action-packed film called Salt. there was a sex scene that came up- those typical, raw, and passionate sex scenes in the movies. It made Yunho squirm in his seat on the couch, his arm around you while you leaned into him. He looked down at you and was quite amazed to see that you were unfazed by it.

He could hear your voice in his head even if you haven’t said anything: it’s just sex baby- it’s a normal human thing.

That may have stopped him from being so awkward around you but that definitely didn’t stop him from growing more aroused each second. He gulps as his free hand fists the fabric of his sweatpants while he tried to stabilize his breathing.

You weren’t oblivious to what was happening beside you though- you just haven’t said anything. That was until you heard your giant teddy bear of a boyfriend cough under his breath. You paused the film and immediately turn to him, a slightly mischievous smirk on your lips.

“Are you horny baby?” you ask him.

He sputters at the question and you laugh. Your hand gently trails up his thick thighs while you hum in amusement, leaning closer to him. Yunho’s cheeks glow a bright red, spreading down his neck and up to his ears. He lets out a shaky breath when you graze against the bulge in his pants, making him close his eyes.

“C’mon baby boy, I need you to tell me,” you gently coax him but make no further move to touch him. He whines at the nickname. “Did the scene turn you on?”

Yunho’s eyes flutter open and meets your lust blown gaze. He knew you didn’t want to push him into anything he didn’t want to do and that you were probably just teasing him right now, but his arousal was through the roof and he wanted to know how you felt around him. He wanted to experience the warmth of your cunt around his cock or the way his skin would feel pressed up against yours.

The cold metal of your horizontal lip piercings against the skin of his neck jolted him out of his little fantasy. A quiet whimper leaves his throat and you smirk against him. His arms snake around your waist, his hands hesitantly gripping onto your waist. He moans when you suddenly nip at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, his voice growing in volume when you moved to straddle his hips.

“Are you okay with this, baby?” You ask him, pulling away with a gentle look in your eyes.

“You act like we haven’t done this a bajillion times,” he muses and you laugh.

“I know,” Your fingers play with the baby hairs at the base of his neck. “But I just want to be sure.”

He flashes you one of his signature dorky smiles and kisses your nose. “Just keep going please,”

You nod before engulfing his lips in a hungry kiss. Your hips ground against his and he groans, his grip on your waist tightening. You’ve done this a couple of times before, grinding against him and making him cum in his pants. But you wanted more. And luckily, Yunho finally felt ready to give you what you wanted.

His hands trailed under your shirt, large hands travelling along your soft skin before settling at the hem and tugging it upwards. You pull away, letting out a surprised noise, and grasp at his wrist. For a moment, the ravenet was worried that he did something you didn’t like until you spoke up.

“What are you doing..?”

“...taking off your shirt..?” He responds almost hesitantly. “Why— are you off the pill—”

“No no, don’t worry I’m on the pill but are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything just because—“

“I’m ready, ______,” Yunho stops you midway, his warm brown eyes blown with lust. He looks at you, dead in the eye. “I want you to fuck me— please.”

The way Yunho says this with a desperate look in his gaze and the meekness of his tone switched something in you. You lick your lips as it morphs into a grin. You gently cup his chin, firmly kissing him.

You moan in approval when he obediently parts his lips to grant you access, your tongue mingling with his. He could taste your cherry flavored chapstick and the remnants of your cigarette that you had smoked a while ago. It was so erotic, the sounds of his lips smacking against yours and the way your tongue’s snakebite piercings tickled him, the way you tasted... and for some reason, despite having made out with you many times, this felt different, much more addicting.

“Arms up.” You say firmly as you tug his shirt and sweater up.

Yunho doesn’t even think twice and immediately raises his arms, allowing you to shed off said clothes. He was rewarded with another kiss to his lips before you push him down against the couch, taking in the sight before you. He looks away in embarrassment, the beautiful red returning to his complexion.

You were having none of it though. “You’re beautiful,” You tell him as you run your hands down the expanse of his chest to his stomach, nails lightly scratching his skin. He whines at your actions, the flush on his face worsening.

Before Yunho could say anything though you were already making your down, leaving wet kisses in your wake. He leans up against his arms to see you leave your marks down his chest, whimpering every time he felt the sting of your teeth against him. Dark purple starts to bloom by the time you reach his pants, your deft fingers making quick work of removing them and throwing them to the floor.

His hard cock springs up almost immediately, the head leaking with precum. You stare at it in pleasant surprise. You had a feeling he was well-endowed but you were surprised at how much girthier he was than you anticipated. Your small hand wrapped around him, making Yunho throw his head back and buck up into it.

“Fuck you’re so huge baby boy,” You hum as your other hand pushed his waist back down to the couch. “Can’t wait for you to fill up this tiny pussy.” He twitches at your words, making you wet once you see the effect your words had on him.

Without any warning, you sucked on the head of his cock, tongue tasting the salty precum.

“O-oh f-fuck, _____,” Yunho whines as he leans back against the couch. His hands settled firmly onto it, nails digging into the leather covering. He tries to keep himself from bucking up into your warm mouth as your tongue trailed up his length.

This was much better than he had fantasized, his toes curling as pleasure courses through him. The snake bite piercings on your tongue were surprisingly cold against his cock, making him shiver when you swallowed and bobbed your head around him.

He throws his head back when you pull away, a string of saliva mixed with his precum connecting your lips to him, and gently squeezed his balls. Your other hand stroked him at a tantalizing pace, your thumb teasing the slit of the head.

“Look at you, you’re so big compared to me yet you’re letting me handle you like this.” Your hand lands a gentle slap to his thigh, eliciting a whine from your boyfriend. “So cute~”

But before Yunho could even retort, your mouth was on him again. The metal ball of your piercing runs down the underside of his cock, tracing his veins before moving up to play with the head. He had never thought that the feeling of fucking your mouth would be absolute torture having you tease him like this and yet, he loved it.

His breathing became labored and he could feel his stomach tighten, impending signs that he was about to cum. You could sense it too, especially with the way you let your teeth graze the soft flesh of his dick.

“I-I’m close, ______,” He pants and you pull away from him completely.

He whines at the loss of contact but his voice dies down when you quickly strip yourself of your own clothes. Yunho takes in the sight of your bare form in front of him, being stunned into silence.

God, you were so fucking gorgeous.

“You- your uhm,” Yunho uncharacteristically stammers and you look down at yourself.

You grin when you realize what he was referring to. “Yeah, my nipples are pierced. Do you like them?” You ask as you brush away your hair to let him admire it more.

“I love them.”

You giggle out your gratitude before you settle over him once more, your slick cunt hovering over his length. You only smile at him when you take his hands and lead them to your breasts, chuckling at the gasp he lets out.

You moan when he gave an experimental squeeze, lip caught between your teeth. “You’ve always wanted this, right baby?” You taunt him. You wordlessly guide him to massage your breasts, letting his thumb flick at your perk nipples. “Watching through the crack in the door when you’d get home early~”

His eyes widen in surprise as the embarrassment of being caught fills his system. He feels his body heat up with shame when you chuckle airily, another moan leaving you when you move his hands down your sides and coax him to squeeze the flesh of your ass. “It’s okay baby,” you assure him, pressing your chest flush against his. “I enjoy putting on a show for you.”

You drop your hips down on his and rub yourself up against his cock. You both groan out at the feeling. Yunho was losing himself in the feeling of you just surrounding him, your scent, your touch, your juices just coating him— it was driving him insane.

You reach down to jerk him off a couple of times before lining yourself up with him. “You ready big guy?” You ask.

Yunho could only nod, all words lost. His jaw drops open in pleasure when you finally sink down against him, his back arching at the way your warm velvety walls took him in. Your slick helped you grow accustomed to the stretch, a drawn out moan leaving your lips as he slowly bottoms out within you.

His head falls back as you lightly ground against him, his cock twitching inside of you. “F-fuck, _______, you’re so tight and you f-feel so warm—”

You chuckled breathily, leaning down to kiss him. You moan against his lips, forcing your tongue into his mouth, when he brushed up against your spot. You pull away from him after he so obediently allowed you to ravage him through the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connecting between the both of you.

You ran your hand along the bulge in your abdomen and pressed down on it. Your boyfriend let out a choked gasp when he felt how deep inside you he was. You press down on it again and you fall forward, arm wobbling as you try to support yourself over him. His arms come up to settle around your waist, the both of you getting used to the feeling of being wrapped up in each other.

“I love you so much, ______,” Yunho whispers.

“I love you so much more,” You reply. “I’m going to move now, okay?”

Once you get his permission to move, you slowly bring your hips up before settling down against him. Your initial pace was slow at first for the benefit of the both of you. Yunho didn’t want to cum early and you were still getting used to the size of him. Eventually, the speed of your hips increase as you start to bounce up and down along his length.

Yunho’s eyes squeeze shut and leans his head back, exposing the column of his neck. He could feel your lips mouth along his skin, teeth lightly nipping along, as your warmth clenched around him. He dug his fingers into your waist when you squeeze around him again, leaving bruises against the plump flesh. A light sheen of sweat covers your intertwined bodies.

“You f-feel amazing,” he mewls and tries his best to meet each thrust of your hips. “K-keep going please,”

“Yeah? You’re enjoying this baby boy?” You pant out, taking both of his hands and lacing his fingers with yours, pinning them by his head. He never thought he’d like being dominated, always thinking it was he had to take the lead, but this was definitely something he enjoyed.

Yunho could feel his stomach tighten as his orgasm neared, squeezing your hands to let you know. He writhes under your actions, sweet praises and come curses tumbling from his lips. “I’m, I’m gonna cum- _____, lemme cum, please, please, please,” he cries, looking up at you with large eyes.

“You think you can hold it for me baby?” You ask and reach down to circle at your clit, whining quietly at the feeling. “Wanna cum with you…”

Yunho wanted to sob at that, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to last long, but nodded nonetheless. It was the least he could do after you pretty much gave him all your attention from earlier. He leans up on one arm, taking one of your nipples into his mouth in an attempt to get you to cum and you cry out in pleasure.

Your hands shot up to his hair, tugging at the soft locks as he desperately sucked, occasionally switching between each mound. The way his round, innocent eyes, looked up at you with his lips locked around your breast fueled the fire you felt in your tummy, bringing you closer to the edge.

Your hips lose all sense of rhythm as you chase your orgasm, leaning your forehead against your boyfriend. “I’m gonna cum baby,” You tell him and he practically groans in relief at that.

After a couple of more bounces of your hips, you slam down against him, your orgasm crashing down against you. The feeling of your warm juices gushing around his length sent Yunho over the edge and he latched onto you, his forehead falling to your shoulder. He grunts deeply as his hips jerked up into you, painting your walls with his cum.

Your arms give out and you fall over him, head resting on his chest. Pants fill the room as the both of you lay there to catch your breaths. You turn your head to face him, chin tickling his clavicle, and offer him a tired smile.

“How are you..?” You say softly and card your hand through his damp hair.

“That,” he let out an amused huff. “That was pretty intense… but I enjoyed it. No wonder why some people have active sex lives…”

You snort at that, shaking your head at his little joke. You could feel his release trickle down your thigh when you lift yourself off of him, making you feel sticky down there. You stand with shaky legs and Yunho reaches out to help stabilize yourself.

“Care to join me in the shower?” You offer and hold your hand out to him.

He smiles at you. “Of course, sweetheart.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #ateez imagines #yunho smut #sub!ateez #sub ateez

396 notes · View notes