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autumnsvixen · 3 days ago

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Damaged - part 1

Azriel x f! reader

When the high lord sent Cassian to Ironcrest to recruit females to train, he was never expecting Cassian to bring something, or someone, back.

Word Count: 2093 Warnings: misogyny, violence, blood, use of knives, physical abuse, this is taking place in an Illyrian war camp so read with caution. I'm serious, it gets pretty dark and violent.

A/N: this is part one of a slow-burn Az fic I have in the works. I know you don’t see much of Az here, but I promise it is coming. And it will be well worth the angst wait.

masterlist || request guidelines

You stood by the training mat, eyes fixed as you were entranced by the male in the ring. His moves were graceful as he handled his sword with a precision you’d only seen in the birds that dive to the nearby lake as they hunt their aquatic prey. He swung towards invisible enemies, cutting them down with ease. As you watched him, you could only wish you could one day carry yourself with the same easy danger as he did. The males in the camp barely spared him a glance, and those who did had looks of disgust and anger on their faces.

Your trance was broken by the harsh sound of your brother’s voice, “Y/N, stop watching that bastard play pretend and get back inside. Shouldn’t you be washing my training leathers?”

Your shoulders stiffened as you moved your eyes from the training ring to the snow-covered ground below you. You mustered out a small, “apologies, I was meant to be fetching water for the wash. I just got distracted.”

He inched closer to you, the smell of sweat and grime pulling a gag from your throat that you swallowed down. His tone was quiet but harsh, “if I ever catch you looking at that brute again, I will show you what a real male can do with a sword.”

Your breath hitched, but you nodded obediently, running off to fetch water from the well on the outskirts of camp.

As you were pulling the bucket back up towards you, you were once again frightened by the sound of a male voice behind you, “I know you were watching me earlier.”

Your heart quickened as you turned, the bucket shaking in your hands, “I didn’t mean to offend you, sir, I apologize.”

The male with the long dark hair smiled softly at you, “no need to apologize. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to train with me tomorrow. You’re the only one here who seems like a worthy mentee.”

With wide eyes, you looked up at him fully, taking in the red glow of his siphons and the rich hazel of his eyes. “I would love that, but I am far too busy with my chores and my brother wouldn’t like it if I were to forego them to train with you.”

He stepped closer to you, a kind softness in his eyes, “If it’s your brother you are worried about, I can ensure you I will protect you from any backlash you might face.”

If only he knew what kind of backlash your brother had been known to give out. You shook your head, “I know that you and your high lord have imposed your laws about female training, but it is still strictly… discouraged in this camp.”

He looked angry at your words, an expression which faded into pity as he took in your trembling form. “If your brother has a problem with you training under his general, I will gladly speak with him. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“All due respect, general, you won’t be the one facing the brunt of his anger.”

He rolled his shoulders back, “then let me teach you how to defend yourself against him. He won’t hurt you while I am here.”

You hesitate, knowing you truly wanted nothing more than to learn how to fight, how to protect yourself against the males who had threatened you throughout your existence. He sees this and continues, “if you decide you want to take me up on my offer, meet me in the training ring 2 hours before dawn. That way, your brother won’t even know you’re gone, and you will still be able to complete your chores.”

With a respectful dip of your head, you breeze past the war general with the bucket still in your hands.

You don’t meet him in the ring the next day, or the following day. Despite the longing you felt to train, you couldn’t overcome the fear of your brother’s anger. It was in the early morning of the third day, as you stood by the dish basin in your family home and watched the war general train through the window, that you decided you would join him. You had only meant to be distracted for a moment, allowing yourself a glimpse of his routine, but you had been entranced once again. Your brother had caught you staring, anger coating his eyes.

With a hot hand, he grabbed your arm and spun you around, the dish falling from your hand and into the tub. His other hand met your throat, squeezing tightly. “What did I say about watching him train, little sister?”

Your eyes were wide with fear as you struggled to breathe, body frozen in terror. Your brother brought the hand not on your throat to your hip, sliding under your shirt so you could feel the cold metal of a blade against your skin.

You tried to speak, to apologize, but the grasp on your neck was too tight to allow any noise to leave your mouth. The sharp sting on your hip brought tears to your eyes as he carved a long line across your stomach. It wasn’t deep enough to seriously wound you, but you knew there would most likely be a scar.

He smiled wickedly down at you, bringing the bloodied knife to your cheek. He swiped it across your skin before leaning close to your ear, hot disgusting breath hitting your skin. “Now be a good little sister and clean yourself up. Then get back to work.”

The grip on your neck disappeared and you gasped for breath, holding onto the edge of the basin behind you for stability. As you regained your composure enough to grab a nearby rag, you made your decision. No matter what, your villainous brother would find a way to hurt you. The only thing you could do for yourself was learn to fight back.

You had hoped that Cassian would be pleased to see you in the early hours of the morning the next day, but you were instead met with a look of concern.

“What happened to your face?”

You shrugged off his question, “you told me you could teach me how to defend myself, right?”

His mouth morphed into a grimace as he took in your week appearance, the inflamed pink mark across your cheek. After a few moments, he nodded, “I hope you’re ready to work.”

You found that, despite the bruises and soreness that had made their home on your body, you enjoyed Cassian’s training. He pushed you enough to help you grow, but not so far that you would regress into the fear that had consumed your entire body throughout your life. He respected your boundaries, and never asked you to explain when you would show up to train with new cuts along your face or arms.

But any fool could tell he was furious about them. You had made it clear you wouldn’t talk about them and that you didn’t want him interfering, and he was too scared that you would stop coming if he did. Out of anger, or because you would be left in a state so poor you’d be unable to train, you both weren’t sure.

One day, the two of you had gotten distracted, and training had lasted just a bit longer than it normally would. As you were heading off the training mat, you caught a glimpse of your brother’s watchful eyes through the window of your cabin. They held an icy fury, and you knew what was to come as soon as you got home. You thought to ask Cassian to accompany you, but knew that if you didn’t face your brother now, it would only be worse later.

To your surprise, your brother said nothing as you carefully entered the house. You watched him warily, as he didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You quickly changed into your household clothes before starting quietly on your chores, jumping at the sound of the front door slamming shut as your brother left for the day.

The entire day, you were on edge. Chores had taken you less time than normal due to your anxiety quickening your hands. You were on your way to the market to trade the coins your brother earned as a blacksmith for meats and new gloves for him, as he had requested, when you were stopped by three looming figures.

You recognized them as your brothers friends, males who had come around to your home to get drunk with your brother and make gross, degrading comments towards you as you served them. Then, their eyes had been filled with lust and entitlement. Now, they were filled only with rage.

“Your brother said you’ve been training with that bastard general.” One of the males said.

Another spoke, “weak females like you don’t get to train.” He reached out to grab your shoulder, pushing you to the cold, hard ground.

“If you think you’re strong enough to fight like us males, why don’t we test out your skills?” The third one spoke as fear washed over your body. You pushed yourself up to your hands so you were sitting, looking up at them.

The second male’s foot made contact with your side as he kicked you harshly, sending you back to the ground. Though you had been training with Cassian, he had only been helping you build muscle and endurance, not to fight. Not yet.

Another of the males swung his legs on either side of your waist, pinning you underneath him. His hands wrapped around your throat, cutting your oxygen supply off. You struggled underneath him, trying to bring your knees up to harm him, but another of the males stomped on your ankle before you could.

A splintering pain traveled up your leg at the impact, bones cracking underneath his foot. You tried to cry out in pain, but no noise would come out.

The lack of oxygen was causing your vision to go blurry, hands scratching at the male’s to loosen the grip around your throat. He obliged, but you quickly realized it wasn’t from your pleading. His friend passed him a dagger, which he swiftly brought to your neck.

“C’mon little girl, didn’t your bastard teach you anything?” His voice was filled with disgust and anger, his breath reeking of ale. Your heartbeat was a swift and constant thud in your chest, echoing the fear you felt.

A scream left your lips as he plunged the dagger into your chest, just under your collarbone. You could nearly feel the blade scrape the bone as it entered you. You tried to push him off, but the other males placed their feet on your arms, keeping you locked into place. The male on top of you took his free hand to cover your mouth. “Hush, good girls don’t scream.”

Tears poured from your eyes as he removed the bloodied dagger from your chest before swiftly bringing it back down again, this time into your side. You screamed against his hand, the pain overwhelming you.

He continued his ministrations, plunging the blade into your middle, avoiding your heart and lungs narrowly, but not caring about anything else. You lost track of the pain, mind and body going numb as you let the frozen fear take over you.

At some point, it stopped. You would later vaguely recall a flash of red and the sound of men in pain, but in the moment you could barely remember your own name.

A male kneeled over you, concern in his hazel eyes and long hair brushing against your face. You groaned out of instinct, not pain, when he picked you up, your head lolling to rest on his shoulder as he took off.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me,” he said harshly to you over the roaring of the wind in your ears. You vaguely recognized that you were flying, a feeling so instinctual yet so unfamiliar to you, despite the large wings on your back.

The next things you remember happened in flashes. A dark male with bright, violet eyes taking hold of your hand, a castle surrounded by balconies and arches, a soft bed and warm hands spreading magic throughout your body, your bones clicking back into place, and a dark figure who seemed to be more shadow than fae.

It was him you thought of as the same darkness that surrounded him filled your vision and you were overtaken by a dreamless sleep.

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel slow burn #azriel series #azriel angst #acotar angst

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armpirate · 2 days ago

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Unspoken || Jungkook

pairing: Soldier!JK x fem!reader || Boyfriend's friend

w.c.: 9.3k

Warnings: smut, cheating, dirty talk, male masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 42 minutes

Summary: You thought you had a happy relationship with your boyfriend, you were convinced nothing would ever come between you two. At least until you first met Jungkook, Mingyu's friend and base partner, for a holiday break. His pull toward you was immediate, but also forbidden. Neither of you needed to express how you felt about each other, your attraction was unspoken. Although it'd only get out of control the second you both confessed how you felt about each other.

MASTERLIST

Jungkook leaned back against the passenger seat, the low hum of the car engine blending with the soft playlist his colleague, Mingyu, had playing on the stereo. It was a rare break from the structured chaos of military life, and Jungkook still wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up accepting Mingyu's invitation to spend the holidays at his place.

"You're gonna love it," Mingyu had said, grinning as he threw a duffel bag into the trunk of his car earlier that morning. "Y/n makes the best holiday food, and the vibe's just... different. You'll see."

"Thanks again for inviting me" Jungkook said now, glancing over at Mingyu, whose focus was split between the road and his casual commentary about how cold it always got in their hometown during the holidays.

"No problem. Can't have you stuck at the base during break, eating pre-packaged trash. And besides, Y/n's been wanting to meet you forever. She loves hearing my stories about how I carried your butt during training," Mingyu teased.

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes. "Carried me? Right. You couldn't even..."

Mingyu's laughter cut him off, the kind that made it hard not to smile along. Despite their constant banter, Jungkook had always appreciated Mingyu's warmth. It was one of the things that had made him such a good friend, both on and off duty.

The car pulled up to a modest but inviting house tucked behind a line of bare trees, its porch lit with soft golden lights. Jungkook stepped out, his boots crunching against the icy driveway as he stretched. His breath curled into the cold air, and for a moment, he let himself soak in the quiet that only winter seemed to bring.

Jungkook followed him inside, shaking off the chill. The warmth of the house hit him immediately, carrying with it the smell of cinnamon and pine. He stepped into the living room, his gaze moving over the soft, glowing decorations scattered across shelves and windows. Then his eyes landed on you.

You weren't quite sure when your boyfriend would show up, but you were dying to see him. Despite how cold it was outside, you managed to put on his favorite outfit: a pair of shorts that barely cupped your ass and a thin top that he had always managed to take off easily.

The click of the door, heard from your room, almost had you jumping in excitement in your place, biting your lip before you finally chose to walk downstairs to meet him.

You were expecting your boyfriend, but not the man who was behind him. Mingyu was quite big, but those doe-eyed man's shoulders managed to oversize your boyfriend's.

Jungkook barely registered Mingyu's playful retort because, for a second, it felt like time had slowed. You were stunning, not just in the way you carried yourself, but in the ease of your smile and the warmth in your dark eyes. You weren't what Jungkook had expected, though he wasn't sure what he had expected. It wasn't like he actually had bothered to imagine you.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming with someone?" it was your first question as you walked downstairs, closing the gap to slap your boyfriend's arm.

"It'd be better if I leave" Jungkook got cut off by you, big eyes looking at him over Mingyu's shoulder.

"No, I didn't mean that" you sighed. "It's just... this dickhead should've told me first. I'm Y/n".

"I know" he smiled, quickly nodding. "You're everything he talks about in the base".

And now Jungkook knew why.

"Let me guess... Jungkook?" you pointed at him, looking unsure, but at the same time knowing you were about to give the right answer.

"You got it right".

Your laugh was soft, but it resonated. "It's nice to finally meet you, Jungkook," you said, extending a hand.

Jungkook shook it, his palm warm against yours, while he noticed the distance you had built. Maybe it was that he just wanted to feel you closer, while you were keeping the safety of each other's personal space.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, his voice steady even as something in his chest stirred.

He told himself it was just nerves. Or maybe the exhaustion from months of routine, of walls and regulations. Whatever it was, he ignored it.

You were Mingyu's.

And Jungkook had no intention of complicating that.

But as the evening unfolded and conversation flowed freely between the three of you, he couldn't shake the strange pull he felt toward you. Every laugh you shared, every subtle gesture, seemed to light something within him. It was subtle, unspoken, but undeniably there.

Jungkook had told himself, over and over, throughout the months he dragged after knowing you that it was just a fleeting crush, a strange little inconvenience brought on by proximity and circumstance. But the more time passed, the more he realized he was lying to himself.

It didn't help that you weren't the kind of woman he could ignore. Every time Mingyu mentioned you in passing, with his face lighting up with affection, it made something twist uncomfortably in Jungkook's chest. He hated the feeling. Hated that his mind lingered on stolen glances and shared laughter from the few times he had seen you.

It was getting worse, though. Much worse.

You visited the base once, just over a month after the holidays, surprising Mingyu with homemade snacks and your bright, warm presence that seemed to brighten the cold halls of their quarters. Jungkook hadn't known you were coming, but the moment your laughter echoed down the hallway, he knew.

He was mid-conversation with another soldier when you appeared, walking beside Mingyu with a radiant smile and a bag slung over your shoulder. You looked out of place in the best way, soft in a world of hard lines and camouflage.

"Jungkook!" you called out when you spotted him, your hand lifting in a small wave.

He froze for a moment, the sound of your voice cutting through everything else. Forcing a smile, he raised a hand in return, his stomach twisting into a knot as you approached. He didn't expect you there, and even less looking so bright with that short flowing dress that stopped mid-thigh.

He needed you to hug him to finally realize he wasn't going crazy with his own thoughts.

"I didn't know you'd be here today," he said, his voice steady even as he fought to keep his expression neutral, stepping back to look you in the eyes.

"Surprise!" you beamed. "I couldn't let Mingyu go too long without something sweet to snack on. And I packed extra for you, too. Thought you might appreciate it."

Your kindness was as effortless as it was genuine. That was the worst part. You weren't trying to make his heart race or send him spiraling into feelings he didn't want. You were just... you.

"Thanks," Jungkook murmured, taking the small package you handed him. Your fingers brushed briefly, and he cursed the way his pulse quickened.

Mingyu, oblivious as always, grinned at the interaction. "See? Told you she's the best. You don't know how lucky I am"

Jungkook's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly, his gaze flicking to you, who was already chatting with another soldier nearby. "You're really lucky."

The rest of your visit was a blur of polite small talk and stolen glances that Jungkook wished he could erase from his memory. When you finally left, Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, talking about you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded in the chaos of military life.

And Jungkook?

Jungkook felt like he was losing a battle he couldn't even admit he was fighting.

Each passing week only made it harder to ignore. Every time he caught himself thinking about you, he'd push the thoughts away, burying them under layers of duty and loyalty. But they always came back, stronger and more insistent, until it felt like he was carrying a weight he couldn't shake.

And the worst part was knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

If he thought it was going to be a temporary crush, he couldn't be more wrong. And what made the least sense for him was the way it kept growing bigger with the little he actually saw you. But hell, the little he saw you was enough to have a huge impact on his system and the way his brain worked to be wrapped around you.

If you wore a new gloss, it was enough for him to keep thinking about the way it'd taste on your lips if he kissed you. If you did something new to your hair, he kept coming up with ways of brushing the few strands that escaped your hairstyle and getting you to smile shyly. And the most simple thoughts turned into the most primitive when he was alone in his room, reminiscing of how your clothes always looked good on you. It only made him wonder how good what was underneath would look.

You were a nightmare and a dream at the same time. Something he couldn't reach, but something he couldn't escape either.

He needed it to get it to stop.

That was why he agreed when you came up with a blind date for him. Jungkook knew he should've said no the moment you brought it up, but his desperation to get you out of his head was bigger than his common sense.

"I have this friend," you had said, your eyes lighting up with the enthusiasm that always made his heart skip a beat. "She's sweet, funny, and gorgeous. I think you two would really hit it off!"

He'd tried to decline politely, but you had a way of being insistent without overstepping. Before he knew it, he was sitting in a crowded cinema on a Friday night with someone he barely knew while you and Mingyu sat right next to them.

His date, Hana, was nice enough, chatty and kind, exactly as you had described. But Jungkook couldn't focus. Every smile she gave him, every laugh they shared over popcorn, felt hollow. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to the woman who had orchestrated this evening in the first place, the same woman who was sitting at his left, oblivious of how crazy you drove him.

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the movie, and the theater fell into a hushed silence. Jungkook shifted in his seat, trying to settle his restless thoughts, but the more he tried to focus on the screen, the harder it became.

It didn't help that your voice still lingered in his head, your laugh from earlier in the night replaying over and over.

He wasn't even aware of what he was doing at first. It was an unconscious movement he didn't quite control. His hand, resting on the armrest, slipped lower, brushing against your skirt where it met your thigh. It was an innocent gesture at first, or at least, he told himself it was. But as his fingers pressed just a fraction further, he felt the warmth of your skin, the soft fabric of your dress.

His breath hitched.

You tensed beside him, turning slightly. "Jungkook?" you whispered, your tone more confused than alarmed.

Realizing what he'd done, he immediately withdrew his hand, his heart pounding. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie. "I... hmm... I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

You offered a small, uncertain smile, brushing it off with a light shrug. "It's fine," you whispered back, your focus returning to the screen.

But Jungkook couldn't move past it. His stomach churned, guilt and shame twisting inside him. He hadn't mistaken you for Hana, not in the physical sense, at least. But in the darkness of the theater, his mind had wandered, and for a fleeting, selfish moment, he'd let his emotions take over.

He spent the rest of the movie barely moving, his body rigid as he counted down the minutes until the credits rolled. When the lights came up, you seemed as sweet and nice as always, as if that moment hadn't meant anything for you.

But Jungkook couldn't shake the weight of what had happened, or the realization that he was spiraling into feelings he had no business indulging.

Your concern for his happiness, your effort to set him up with someone, had only made things worse. You saw him as a friend, nothing more. And yet, his own desires had betrayed not only his loyalty to Mingyu but the respect he'd tried to maintain for you yourself.

As you exited the theater and Mingyu teased him about the "cute couple" they made, Jungkook forced a laugh, but inside, he felt like he was crumbling.

Something had to change.

Because if he didn't find a way to stop this, he knew it would destroy him, and everything he valued most.

Those were the only thoughts in his head while he stared at the ceiling that same night, trying to know what was the best way to put a solution to everything going on. Maybe it was time for him to stop his friendship with Mingyu and free himself from the pain and the trouble.

A sound broke through the silence. It wasn't loud, it was obvious he wasn't supposed to hear it, but it was followed by another sound that was heard clearer the second time. Your moans were soft and cautious, almost as if coming from the back of your throat by how hard you tried to keep them to yourself.

But he heard. Of course he heard it.

Jungkook didn't know when he disconnected, or more like when he allowed his brain to come up with images of you. But when he realized it was way too late and he liked it too much to stop it.

His fingers were closed around himself under the blankets, his eyes closed and his lips parted as the thought of him being the one getting those sounds out of you started being more powerful. Not only powerful, it was so vivid he could almost feel his digits pressing on your flesh to keep you in place, your warm breath on his neck while your fingers played with his hair. He twitched on the spot when he replaced the emptiness of his hand with warmth inside you. He was sure you'd take him well, knowing he was meant to be pounding into you instead of rubbing against his palm. He also knew he could make those moans sound louder, making you unable to control yourself, no matter who was in the next room. You'd be loud and desperate for him to let you reach your orgasm. He could even hear your whimpers against his ear, with your thin breath coating his lobe. Your nails would drag down his spine and your legs would close tight around his waist, because he knew you probably were the type to get so blinded by pleasure that you had no control over your body.

All of his muscles tensed when he pictured you reaching the climax, his toes almost curling by pleasure while he had to gulp the groan that almost interrupted your prolonged moan when you came, not wanting to cut how good you sounded.

If you ever said his name with that same needy tone, he knew he'd cum at the first letter you pronounced.

Reality hit him again when he blinked in the darkness, realizing he fell back again into the same course he promised he wouldn't follow a few weeks back. Without making a sound, he got out of his room to clean himself up.

Right when he was just coming out of the bathroom, you were walking through the corridor, coming back from the stairs. Your cheeks were a pale read, your eyes big and still dark, your hair messy, but that same friendly smile remained.

"How was the date? Did you like Hana?" your eyebrows raised with curiosity. "She's nice, right?"

But Jungkook didn't care about how nice Hana was. He didn't care whether they'd make a cute couple or not, because the only thing in his head at that moment was the idea of you asking that because you were minimally jealous, and not because you were genuinely hoping something would come out of that blind date.

"I... I don't think so" Jungkook grimaced, avoiding your eyes.

"Aw really?" you almost pouted. "Why not?"

It was his chance, or so he thought. For once he didn't let his consciousness get in between what he wanted, he didn't allow caution to stop him from taking the chance you were offering.

He pulled you in the bathroom, closing the door right behind you before cornering you against it. You couldn't help but hear your heartbeat against your eardrums, slowly taking you away from reality, leaving you deaf to anything that wasn't Jungkook's voice.

"If I tell you 'why not', I'm afraid we'll have a big problem" he admitted, his hand slowly raising up to your head level.

Your tongue moved through your lips, but it stayed as dry while his eyes pushed you to do the craziest things that came to mind "Jungkook, I..."

"Don't say my name" he cut you off. "Don't say my name or I'll lose control of myself, and I promise you there will be no turning back".

What were you supposed to say? No words were able to come out of your lips. What was he expecting you to say?

"I didn't like Hana because I kept thinking how your lips would still taste sweet, even after the popcorn you were eating. I didn't get confused and touch you when I wanted to touch Hana. I wanted to touch you, at least know what it felt like. I'm going crazier every day for you, and I don't know how much I'll take it".

"I'm with Mingyu" you confronted.

You used those words, hoping they'd work for Jungkook the same way they worked for you. But they had no effect on him.

Your sentence seemed like a lame excuse to stop yourself. It wasn't a straight 'no' because you were sure of your decision. It was a weak excuse to get to know whether that mattered to him as little as it started to matter for you since you first met Jungkook.

"I know" he scoffed, "of course I know" his head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to be in his place tonight. Just the thought of having you around me has kept me satisfied for a while, but tonight... Fuck, tonight I realized how much I need that to stop being a thought and be a reality".

You hated the way your body reacted to his words, but you hated even more how he didn't need those words to make you feel the way you did.

"I..." you were so close to succumbing, so close to ruin it all. "No".

It was the only word you could pronounce, the only word that wouldn't hint at how indecisive you actually were and wouldn't expose your shaky and unsure tone before you pushed him away.

It would be a mistake. A big one. And you couldn't do that to Mingyu, not to yourself. You were better than all that.

Your heart stopped when he paused your steps before you could reach the door to your room, forcing you to turn around and face him, before you were back against a wall.

Jungkook was aware of the way you looked at him before you stepped out of the bathroom, and seeing you under Mingyu's t-shirt pushed him to fire the last bullet. The only thought was how possessive he felt of you when he noticed you were wearing his military t-shirt, another detail reminding him you weren't his.

He would regret it the next day but, at least, it was something he'd get out of his chest.

He kissed you.

His hands were cupping your cheeks while his lips moved slowly on yours. For a moment, that was the only thing that mattered. It wasn't the way you both knew each other, or the circumstances... you could only feel him.

Your fingers tugged on his t-shirt on his waist, too unsure to pull him closer, but too needy to let go. His lips felt different, like he was familiar with you despite not kissing you before. He treated you with such care while showing off how much he craved you, that you thought it couldn't be real.

You gasped when his tongue slid through your lips, finding yours, barely touching before you broke the kiss again after hearing your boyfriend calling you from inside the room.

You felt so guilty because of how much you liked it, and you also felt guilty because you couldn't give Jungkook what he wanted.

What had you done?

He knew, by the way you looked at him as you walked back to the room, that there was no point in trying, because Mingyu would always be your choice.

The airport was buzzing with life, a constant ebb and flow of people coming and going. You stood just outside the arrival gate, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if the gesture alone could shield you from the nervousness to take a toll on your sanity.

You didn't want to be there. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

When Mingyu had asked you to pick Jungkook up, the instinctive response had been a hard no. But you'd hesitated, your heart betraying your mind. You hadn't seen him in weeks, not since that night, when everything got out of control between you two.

Actually, he set a whole ocean in between you when he left for a special mission in another country. Yet, that distance only made him more present in your life. Your head could only wonder whether he was alright, because whenever you asked Mingyu, he never had enough information that could help you to go on.

During those moments, you regretted only kissing him once.

The memory was still vivid, a flash of heat and regret tangled together in a kiss that should never have happened. He'd kissed you as if he'd been holding back for far too long, and the way your body had responded, the way your heart had raced, made it all more dangerous, because you couldn't remember reacting that same way with your boyfriend -not even when you started dating.

But you had returned to him that same night, guilt pressing heavy on your chest, and Jungkook had pulled away, physically, emotionally, entirely.

The distance he'd created had been suffocating. You'd told yourself it was for the best, that you two needed it. And yet, when Mingyu asked you to help out this once, your excuses had faltered.

Deep down, you wanted to see him.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you suspected Jungkook felt the same.

Your thoughts scattered when the sliding doors opened, and Jungkook emerged, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was tousled from the long flight, his jaw set with the faintest tension, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on you.

"Y/n," he greeted, his voice low, almost hesitant.

"Jungkook," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The hum of the airport surrounded you, but it felt distant, like you were suspended in your own little bubble of awkward silence and unresolved tension.

"You didn't have to come," he finally said, shifting the bag higher on his shoulder.

"Mingyu asked me to," you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

It was an excuse that you didn't believe yourself.

Your boyfriend asked you to, but you could've said no. You could've used work as an excuse not to be there, and you knew your boyfriend would've taken it.

You sighed, your posture relaxing slightly. "But... I didn't mind."

That last part slipped out before you could stop it, and Jungkook's eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place. Relief, hope... you didn't know, but it was positive.

"Let's go," you added quickly, turning on your heel and heading toward the exit.

The walk to the car was quiet, the tension between you palpable. You unlocked the doors, and both climbed in, the faint smell of pine from your air freshener filling the silence.

"How has it been?" you managed to ask.

He grimaced, his expression unsure while he twitched on his seat "It was... okay. Let's say the noise these few weeks have kept me distracted. Some thoughts are way louder and disturbing" he admitted, his tattooed arm resting next to the window.

It didn't take much for you to know what he was hinting at. Any hopes you had to be able to ignore what happened between you two, vanished when he confessed he felt as disturbed as you did.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, the words you'd been holding back tumbled out. "Why did you do it?"

Jungkook turned to you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"You know what," you said, gripping the wheel tightly. "The kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Because I couldn't keep pretending," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't keep acting like I didn't feel something for you. Like I didn't..." he trailed off, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I don't know what happened that night, but I felt like I needed to do it. After so much time, it just felt right".

Your chest tightened. You didn't know what you'd expected, but his honesty left you breathless.

"You didn't say anything after," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought it was better that way," he replied. "You went back to Mingyu, and I knew I had no right to... to want anything more. That's why I volunteered for this new mission. It was better than staying here."

Your grip on the wheel faltered for a moment, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You swallowed hard, focusing on the road.

"So you don't regret it?" you managed to ask.

"Do you?" he questioned immediately after, eyes narrowing while trying to read through your body language.

A scoff introduced your reply before you spoke "I asked first".

"No".

The car fell silent again, but this time, the quiet wasn't as heavy. There was something unspoken between you, something you both knew couldn't be resolved in one drive.

The ride had grown quieter, but the tension between you buzzed like static in the air. You couldn't focus, your hands gripping the steering wheel as your thoughts ran in circles around Jungkook's answer.

It lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you weren't sure you were ready to face.

Did you actually regret that kiss?

When you reached the mall parking lot, a stop you'd insisted on under the guise of needing to grab something, you parked the car and let out a long breath.

"You don't have to come in," you said, your voice clipped.

"I don't mind," Jungkook replied casually, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

Of course he wouldn't stay in the car. He would never make things easy for you.

The two of you walked through the glass doors of the mall, the buzz of activity offering a welcome distraction. You kept your focus on the shops ahead, determined to ignore the way Jungkook's presence seemed to fill the space beside you.

"What do you need here?" he asked, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as you strolled past storefronts.

"Just... something for Mingyu," you lied, thinking that bringing up his name would work as a stop for the two of you

"Hmm," he hummed while nodding slowly, his tone unreadable.

You stopped in front of a small boutique, pretending to be interested in the display of watches in the window. But your focus shattered when you felt Jungkook lean in, his voice low near your ear, the warmth of his chest almost hitting your back.

"Why are you avoiding looking at me?"

Your breath hitched, and you stepped back, glaring at him. "I'm not avoiding you."

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, one that sent a shiver down your spine. "You are," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and turned toward the entrance of the store, but before you could take another step, Jungkook caught your wrist.

"Y/n," he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.

You turned reluctantly to face him, your heart pounding. Thinking you'd look stronger, you ended up feeling smaller.

"What?" you snapped, though the bite in your voice was weak.

His dark eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you forgot where you were. The bustling mall around you faded, leaving just the two of you in the small pocket of space they occupied.

"I'm going to make you want me," Jungkook said, his tone calm but resolute.

"W... What?"

"These days I've been away... I made the decision that I wouldn't give up on you" he confessed. "I tried, but it didn't work out, because I know you want me as much as I want you, you just need something to help you realize".

Your lips parted, a mix of shock and defiance flashing across your face. "Jungkook, stop."

"I mean it," he continued, stepping just close enough to make your breath catch. "You can keep pretending this doesn't exist, but you feel it just as much as I do."

Your pulse quickened, heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the words wouldn't come.

"Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad... But I'll let you be the one taking the lead the next time".

"I'm with Mingyu," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

It didn't stop sounding like a momentary stop, instead of a determined rejection. It was an excuse that kept giving him hints on how you felt. Not by the words, but the tone and weak look in your eyes.

"And I hate that I'm saying this while you are," he admitted, his gaze softening. "But it doesn't change how I feel. And I know it doesn't change how you feel."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. "You don't know how I feel."

"You're right, I don't" he countered, his tone firm. "But one thing for sure: you were waiting for that kiss as much as I did. You keep waiting for me to kiss you, I bet you're dying for me to do it right now" he continued. "Next time we kiss though... I doubt I'll be able to go on with just that".

You shook your head, breaking eye contact as you turned away. "Don't waste your time. Nothing is going to happen"

He didn't follow you this time, letting you walk ahead into the store. But as you browsed aimlessly, his words echoed in your mind, each one carving deeper into the walls you'd tried to build between you two.

It wasn't simple. It never could be.

The party was alive with music and chatter, the kind of event where everyone seemed carefree, wrapped up in their own little bubbles of fun, laughs and alcohol. You, however, felt far from carefree.

You stood at the edge of the dance floor with Mingyu, his arm draped possessively over your shoulder as he laughed at something one of his friends said. You tried to smile, to play the role of the attentive girlfriend, but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the man standing across the room.

Jungkook.

He looked effortlessly handsome in his black button-up, the top few buttons undone to reveal just enough of his tanned skin to make heads turn. He leaned casually against the bar, a drink in his hand, his gaze flicking toward you every so often. You tried not to look at him, but the pull was magnetic, impossible to resist.

It was as if having him so far from you only helped to pull you closer. And that was what happened the whole night. Jungkook didn't walk around you, even Mingyu was surprised by the distance he had settled, although he shrugged it off thinking his friend was just out to get on with someone.

If he only knew...

The tension between you two had been unbearable ever since the airport.Thinking it couldn't get any worse than the day after your first kiss, you were proved wrong. The unresolved words, the unspoken confessions... they lingered like ghosts in every glance you shared. And tonight, it felt as though the air crackled with it, threatening to ignite at any moment.

You adjusted the hem of your dress, a sleek black number that clung to your figure in all the right places. You thought it was Mingyu's gift when it arrived at your apartment, complete with a note that read, Can't wait to take it off tonight.

But when you'd mentioned it to him earlier, Mingyu had laughed. "I can't wait to take off any clothes you're wearing, to be honest. But, especially, this new dress. You have such a good taste" he'd said casually.

It was then you realized.

The handwriting on the note wasn't Mingyu's, but it wasn't like you cared enough to realize. You wanted it so bad to be your boyfriend's, that you ignored all the details.

The realization had sent a ripple of unease through you, but it wasn't enough to stop you from wearing it.

Jungkook's gaze darkened every time it landed on you, his jaw clenching as he watched you laugh at something Mingyu whispered in your ear. You weren't immune to his jealousy, but instead of feeling guilty, it fueled something in you, a twisted desire to test his limits.

So when Mingyu kissed you, you let him.

The kiss was long and slow, a public display that left no room for doubt about your relationship. Your hands trailed up Mingyu's chest, and though your mind wasn't fully in the moment, you didn't stop yourself. Even your boyfriend was surprised by how touchy you were being.

When you dared to peek through half-lidded eyes, you saw Jungkook. His knuckles whitened around his glass before he abruptly turned away.

It was petty, and you knew it. But it didn't stop you from feeling a small, vindictive thrill.

Jungkook didn't stay by the bar for long. When you glanced over again, he was on the dance floor, a striking brunette by his side. She was tall, confident, her hand sliding along his chest as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Your stomach twisted, the sight of them together setting your nerves on fire. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Mingyu and the party, but your eyes betrayed you, following Jungkook as he danced with the woman.

He didn't look at you, not once. It was as if he'd decided to pretend you didn't exist.

And yet, every move he made felt deliberate. The way he leaned into the brunette's touch, the way he let her lips graze his ear, all of it was meant to taunt you.

It was working.

You felt a sharp pang of jealousy that you couldn't suppress, your grip tightening around your drink. Mingyu noticed, pulling your attention back to him with a soft smile.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a little warm in here."

Mingyu didn't seem convinced, but he let it go, turning back to his conversation.

You, however, couldn't let it go. Your gaze found Jungkook again, and this time, he was looking back. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

His expression was unreadable, but his message was clear.

Two can play this game.

Your heart pounded, and you hated the way it thrilled you. The way his attention, whether born of anger or jealousy, still managed to consume you entirely.

The game was far from over, but you weren't sure who would come out the winner, or if winning even mattered anymore.

The pounding bass of the music reverberated through the walls, muffled and distant in the small confines of the bathroom. You leaned against the sink, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Your lipstick was still flawless, your dress clinging to you like a second skin.

You should've felt guilty for what you were about to do. You really should've.

But the fire in your chest, the jealousy that had flared every time you saw him with that brunette on the dance floor, had burned through your restraint.

The door clicked open behind you, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room before he even said a word. You didn't let him take one step forward when you pushed him back inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you two.

"You shouldn't be in here," Jungkook said, his voice low, his tone carrying that familiar edge of frustration.

"So, do you want me to leave?" you replied, turning to face him with a small, taunting smile.

He looked at you, his dark eyes searching, confused by your calm demeanor. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his posture stiff as he leaned back against the closed door.

"You've been playing games all night," you said, taking a slow step toward him. "Dancing with her. Ignoring me. Acting like you don't care when we both know you do."

Jungkook's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

You took another step, the sound of your heels clicking against the tile floor. "You said you'd make me want you," you murmured, stopping just inches from him. "So why aren't you trying harder?"

He exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up. "Didn't you tell me to leave you alone?"

"Right after I told you, you said you'd make sure I wanted you" your head tilted, the tip of your fingers gently brushing against the exposed tattoos on his arm.

"You don't know what you're asking for"

"Don't I?" you asked, tilting your head. Your fingers trailed up his chest, over the smooth fabric of his shirt, until they rested just over his racing heartbeat.

His hand shot up, catching your wrist, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his grip tightened, as if he were holding on for dear life.

"You seem to be a little too much into what I'm doing" he snapped back at you, though his voice lacked the confidence.

"Don't come up with that" you countered, your lips curving into a sly smile. "Don't act like you haven't been looking at me, dying to touch me all night."

The tension snapped like a live wire.

Jungkook let go of your wrist, only to grab your waist, pulling your flush against him. "You're really pushing me, Y/n," he said through gritted teeth, his breath warm against your face.

"Maybe I want to see how far you'll go," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt.

His resolve crumbled in an instant.

Your lips crashed together, the kiss hungry and frenzied, months of pent-up desire pouring out in every movement. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, sliding down the curve of your back as if he couldn't get enough.

You matched his intensity, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your back hitting the door when he made the both of you turn. The cool wood contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're going to regret this," Jungkook murmured against your lips, though his actions said otherwise.

"Then give me something to regret," you shot back, your voice breathless.

For a moment, time ceased to exist. There was only the sound of your breathing, the faint thrum of music beyond the door, and the way you fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had been waiting far too long to connect.

His smirk only disappeared when he kissed you back again, pressing his body against yours, not wanting to let a single centimeter ruin the experience of feeling you against his body. It was like his dreams were coming true whenever your fingertips brushed the back of his hair every time your tongues touched.

But reality was never far behind.

A loud knock on the door startled you both, and you pulled back, your chest heaving. Jungkook's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

"Occupied!" he called out, his voice rough.

You laughed softly, the sound almost bitter. You straightened your dress, smoothing out the fabric cupping his cheeks again. Your tongue traced his upper lip, instantly getting him to lick it as a response before Jungkook tried to pull you for another kiss.

"You won't be taking this dress off tonight" you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

"Really?" Jungkook challenged, his gaze piercing as he looked at you.

Your resolve wavered, but you forced yourself to turn away, your hand on the door handle. "Really"

As you stepped out into the chaos of the party, your heart pounded in your chest, your body still buzzing with the memory of his touch.

The door closed behind you, the sound reverberating through the small entryway of Jungkook's apartment. He kept looking at you concerned. When he heard you through the phone, he knew something was off, but now that he was seeing the state you were in, he knew it was worse than he could imagine.

"Y/n?" he asked,getting your attention, your face flushed and eyes blazing. "What happened? Why are you here so late?"

You didn't answer right away, your fists clenching at your sides as you struggled to find the right words. The argument with Mingyu was still fresh, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

"Why do you keep doing this?" you finally demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts anger and frustration.

Jungkook frowned, stepping back at that attack. "Doing what?"

"You," you spat, pointing at him. "You're always there, always watching, always... lingering in the back of my mind. Do you have any idea what it's doing to me?"

His confusion shifted into something more guarded, his shoulders tensing. "I think you need to calm down," he said carefully.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "I just had the worst fight with Mingyu, and you know what? It wasn't even about him. It was about you."

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I was mad because he's leaving again, he's leaving me alone for another mission, another stretch of time where I have to sit and wait and pretend like I'm okay with it." your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "But I wasn't yelling at him because of that. Do you know what I was thinking instead of worrying because he won't be with me?" you stopped, your gaze attacking him. "I was fucking glad he is leaving. Do you even realize what this means? I'm the worst girlfriend ever. No matter how much I try, I can't get you out of my head. You're there all the damn time with any reason".

Jungkook's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his gaze searching for yours.

He knew Mingyu was leaving. They both discussed it before he finally made the decision. He even remembered the way his friend tried to find out the way to tell you, yet all he could think of was how there would be nothing on the way for him.

"I hate it," you whispered, your voice softening as the anger gave way to something more fragile. "I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. That when I'm with him, it's your face I see. That this... whatever this is between us, it's ruining me."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

"You think it's easy for me?" Jungkook said finally, his voice rough. "You think I don't feel the same way? That every time I see you with him, it doesn't tear me apart?"

You flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show.

"I didn't ask for this, Y/n," he continued, stepping closer to you. "I didn't ask to feel this way about someone I can't have. But here we are. I also hate not being able to look Mingyu in the eyes because all I can think about is his girlfriend. Or how, instead of telling him not to go, I wanted to encourage him to leave".

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides as though he were trying to hold himself back.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. "Why now?"

There was a brief silence, realizing with his question you had no business there. Why were you there?

"I don't know," you admitted, your eyes glistening. "I just... I needed to see you."

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You're killing me, you know that?"

"I know" you whispered, your voice breaking.

And then, as though drawn by an invisible force, you both moved at the same time. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him toward you as his arms wrapped around your waist. Your lips met in a clash of desperation and need, a release of all the emotions you'd been bottling up for so long.

The kiss was messy, frantic, and utterly consuming, neither of you caring about the consequences for the first time.

In a mini second his hands were everywhere they could reach, making your whole body squirm when he cupped your ass with his palms. It was fast, need hitting you two like a truck, barely giving you time to settle what was happening before you were getting rid of each other's clothes.

His tattooed fingers moved down your neck, in between your breasts, feeling your rushed heartbeat against his palm. He could sense you felt the same way he did, but you'd been too stubborn to admit it.

He kept moving down, the heat of your skin raising with every soft touch of his digits, your legs slightly parting when he attempted to slide through your folds. His groan made you throb against the tips, causing his breathing to become heavier.

"Do you like it when I touch you?" he asked with a thin voice, slowly starting to rub your clit in circles.

"I love it" you admitted. Your hand traced his packed chest, going down his marked abs until you moved past his v line "I kept thinking about being with you like this since you first kissed me".

You didn't know, but those words worked like a switch for Jungkook. Hearing from your lips how you were into him as much as he was into you was the little he needed to lose every bit of sanity.

Before your fingers could reach his dick, he pulled you for another kiss. His rough hands went straight to your ass, cupping your cheeks so he could lift your body and have your legs around his waist.

Jungkook didn't take you to the room, he didn't want to waste another second without being linked to you, he had wasted too much time already. You gasped again when your back collided against the wall.

His lips trapped you in an unknown world you didn't know could be so pleasuring. Usually, it was always just about Jungkook. But that night it was all about Jungkook, his taste, his gaze, the way his tongue worshiped your body like he wanted to know and memorize what every bit of you tasted like.

Your body arched for him when he closed his lips around your hard nipple, moving his lips and tongue like he was actually devouring you. You hadn't ever done it, but you were sure you'd be able to cum by the way he was only sucking you.

"Please, Jungkook" you muttered, your fingers getting lost in his strands of hair.

"Ask me" he demanded. "I've been imagining those words for way too long, I need to hear them".

"Fuck me" you asked, looking into his eyes. "Make me regret taking so long to do this"

"You're mine, Y/n," he growled, his eyes darkening, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You didn't respond, but the passion and hunger simmering within you made it clear that you knew a part of you belonged to him before you could admit it.

He reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair, and tugged your head back, exposing your neck. His lips found the delicate skin below your ear, and he nipped and sucked, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

He leaned in, his eyes blazing with possessive desire, and his lips crushed against yours again, with a hunger that set fire to the pit of your stomach. His tongue delved deep, exploring every hidden crevice of your mouth, whilst his hands clutched at your body, gripping you tightly. That kiss only worked to drown the moan in your mouth as he slowly slid inside you, trying to memorize the feeling, to feel every millimeter in your channel get adjusted to him.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against his. It was slow at first, with the two of you wanting to get a taste of what you'd been craving, but were too stubborn to admit. But slowly, the intensity started getting the best of you, his digits denting on your skin as he angled his hips to rock them against you.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans and sighs echoing in the room as you reached for your release. Jungkook's dirty talk fueled your desire, and you eagerly met his thrusts, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that only intensified their pleasure.

"Oh, god, Jungkook," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust harder.

"You like that, don't you?" Jungkook asked, his voice strained with desire. "You like feeling my cock inside you? Hmm? Fucking you like this?"

As you moved together, you found yourself lost in the moment. You had never felt this alive, this desired. Jungkook's dirty talk only added to the experience, his words making you wetter and more eager for him. Every time you thought you couldn't be more into him, he always did something that proved it was only the beginning.

"Yes, Jungkook, harder," Y/n begged, your voice filled with need.

He bent down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently. You arched your back again, your hands tangled in Jungkook's hair as you urged him on.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Jungkook sensed it too, because he started pounding into you even harder. The loud dry claps of your bodies echoing through the silence of the room.

"Are you going to cum for me? Do it, baby" his forehead was resting against yours. "I'm going to cum inside you, Y/n. I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

With a loud cry, you came, your pussy clenching around Jungkook's cock. Jungkook followed soon after, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you with his cum, staying like that for a few moments, panting and trying to catch their breath, hoping common sense wouldn't hit you and make you regret what had just happened.

Jungkook slowly pulled out of you, moving his hips back while his hands still carried you. You looked up at him all the way through it, your eyes filled with something else that wasn't regret, yet he couldn't quite decipher what it was. You leaned in and kissed him again.

Although that kiss only meant the night wasn't ending there.

And it didn't.

You laid on top of Jungkook, your long hair cascading down your back as you moved your hips up and down, grinding your pussy against his cock. Your perky breasts bounced with each movement, and Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you, hypnotized by the way your body moved. He reached up and cupped your breasts, teasing your nipples as you moaned with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, throwing your head back as you rode him harder. "Your cock feels so good"

Jungkook smirked, reaching down to spank your ass. "I love how your your tight little pussy takes me so well"

You moaned, biting your bottom lip as you nodded. "Hmm yes"

"Just like that... Show me how bad you want it" as time passed by, he sank deeper on the couch.

Just then, Jungkook's phone started ringing. You paused, looking up at him with a confused expression when he froze for a moment.

You were too drunk with pleasure to think of any possibility that wasn't distracting him from it, your lips moving quick to his neck.

"Who is it?" you asked.

Jungkook reached for his phone, but he didn't answer it. Mingyu had sent him countless messages, he had called a few times, and he knew the reason why was in front of him. He looked at you, knowing the second he mentioned your boyfriend, it all would stop.

He tossed it aside and focused on you, his hands on your hips as he thrust up into you.

"Who fucking cares" he moved forward, hiding his face on your neck. "You're so fucking hot, Y/n," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I could fuck you all day long."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

Jungkook grinned, his hands on your hips as he guided your movements. He loved how wild and uninhibited you were in bed, how you weren't afraid to take charge and ride him hard. Hell, you were the best fantasy he had ever had, and he finally had you.

"That's right, baby, ride my cock," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "You do it so well"

You nodded, unable to speak as you focused on the delicious sensation of Jungkook's cock filling you up. You could feel yourself getting close to orgasm, your muscles clenching around him as you rode him harder and faster. The claps of your bodies turning into splashes due to your sticky skin covered in sweat and his load mixed with your juices leaking out of you.

He reached down between you, teasing your clit with his fingers as you moaned into his mouth. You started moving your hips again, grinding against him as you chased your orgasm again.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, breaking the kiss as you threw your head back. "I'm so close. Don't stop". Your nails digged on his skin, all the muscles in your body tensing "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "I'm almost there, Jungkook, I'm almost there."

Jungkook grinned, gripping your hips as he slammed up into you harder. "That's right, baby. Come for me. I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Jungkook didn't need any more encouragement. He thrust up into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he came hard. You followed him over the edge, your muscles clenching around him as you screamed out your own orgasm while your nails dug into his chest. Jungkook grunted, following you over the edge as he filled you with his cum.

It didn't hit you after the climax, not even after you showered and dressed yourself. It hit you when you walked to the door and he kissed you one last time, with such delicacy and care that you couldn't believe it was the same man you were begging to.

His steps were careful, pinning you against the wall again while cupping your cheeks.

You weren't quite sure what you wanted to do, but one thing for sure: you couldn't let go of Jungkook so easily after that night.

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boomstab-papa · 2 days ago

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Oh absolutely, giving misogynists captive girlfriends/wives isn't going to fix anything. Being a little more misogynist to try to appease misogynists won't work.

But "giving any credence" is such an interesting phrase to use here, because it's so ambiguous and also accusatory. What does "giving credence" mean? Who has been doing it? What have they been advocating for? Who, for example, has been saying leftists should be more misogynist, and how?

I'm not alone in this confusion, either, there are several comments on the tweet who are equally perplexed.

The fact is that the left DOES NEED a better approach to people who are feeling lost, angry, and scared.

Alt-right "self-help" authors and programs are hugely popular. These predators target lost, scared, and angry people. They're cults, really. And no matter how much the left discusses things like "can we stop parroting bioessentialist bullshit because hey, men aren't destined to be misogynistic assholes"... these alt-right cultists don't ever even have to TALK TO a leftist to repeatedly hear "leftists hate you for being born white/male/rich/etc". I really can't get over how Rush Limbaugh popularized the term "feminiazi" and told an entire generation that feminists were angry man-haters when they literally are not. But that's exactly how the grift works!! I should know, I grew up in exactly this Rush Limbaugh kind of house!!

"Don't blame the hyper-wealthy for ruining the economy, blame women and foreigners for taking all the jobs! Don't blame the ruined economy when nobody wants to have kids anymore, blame the women! Don't blame patriarchy and all the misogyny it taught you when women avoid your misogynist ass, blame the women! Remember, the feminazis hate you!!"

So what to do?

On an interpersonal level, sometimes it can be really easy. This is a comment made to Innuendo Studios's video "How to Radicalize A Normie" on this exact topic (which I highly recommend watching).

"Hey, ex-alt-right member here. First, really like this series. I feel like you’re validating the radicalization that me and my male friends experienced. Putting it into words and showing us how we got tricked, exposing the magician and their tricks. Second, I vot out not through argument and discussion but actually through feelings. I was very edgy and would use the n-word in jokes all the time. My male friends would not call me out on it. But a female friend of mine said it made her uncomfortable and that she didn’t appreciate these jokes when we played fortnite together. That shook me to my core as I cared for my friend and that’s how my deradicaliztion started. Just wanted to add in this personal story, keep up the great work :)"

If this is someone you know, tell them their behavior is not cool.

THIS GOES DOUBLE FOR THE MEN READING THIS. Misogynists are more likely to listen to you than they are to listen to women!! If someone is being a shithead in your vicinity, consider: are you gonna let it slide? Or are you maybe, possibly, going to be the one thing that yanks them out of a hatespiral and prompts them to re-examine their hateful worldview? Tell them "hey not cool".

This might not work the first time. This might not work at all for some people. But if the situation is relatively safe, then it's worth trying.

And this does not mean that you personally are responsible for "centering men in your conversations" or "marginalized people putting in even more emotional labor" or "if a man is misogynist it's because you failed him" what the fuck ever like I've seen in this discourse. Come the fuck on.

It means you can probably try saying something to somebody you know. And if it doesn't work? You can say you tried.

On a policy level, we have more work to do. It shouldn't come as a surprise to any leftist that the current economic and political system in the USA exists to separate and exploit people. I think we all agree it really sucks to live in a system like this. Your average reactionary misogynist also thinks the system sucks, but as explained above, they've been trained to place the blame on some convenient scapegoats instead. Immigrants. Women. Queer people. Muslims. Anybody who's not white. Et cetera. "Government needs to get out of the way of smart people and then Elon Musk will build a utopia for The Faithful (which includes me) on Mars" or some shit.

These people need to hear that their anger is justified, but that their blame is misplaced. They need policies that will hold the responsible parties accountable. They need policies that won't leave them impoverished and isolated and exhausted after working a 40+ hour work week. They need to realize the system isn't sorting people into "the worthy rich" and "the unworthy poor", rather, that it's exploiting everyone except the wealth-owning class. They need to realize it's their politicians' biggest campaign donors that are doing this to them.

The Democratic Party needs to actually talk about this. I'll be dangerously pithy here: the Democratic Party needs to sound more like Bernie Fucking Sanders. Politicians need to oppose health insurance companies and get Medicare For All going. Politicians need to stop voting to give the military two fucking billion dollars every single day and fund free college and trade schools. Politicians need to tell business interests to fuck off and get a livable minimum wage AND a universal basic income passed, which will severely undercut employers' ability to exploit and isolate us.

And we need Citizens United repealed. Badly. I'm not trying to imply the problem is only with Republicans' campaign donors, because Democrats' biggest campaign donors are also often the same people exploiting us. But look at how Democrats did a tiny little bit of pro-union and anti-trust work these past 4 years and they screamed bloody fucking murder. If Democrats are relying on these people's money to get them elected, I think it's going to be really hard to get policies passed that will actually make USAmericans safer and happier (ie. address Republicans' economic fears that they keep blaming on various scapegoats).

Although with Republicans controlling the entire Federal government for the next two years minimum, this feels more distant than ever.

That's what we need to be taking seriously. If you don't give any credence to the fears and insecurities underlying the horrifying reactionary politics, you're not actually addressing anything. If you can't admit that capitalism fucks all of us over and makes all of us miserable and looking for a remedy, are you even a leftist?

#politics #talking #essay #feminism tag #misogyny #cults #activism

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goldfades · 2 days ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/goldfades/768009162138517504/title-luke-hughes

What about luke’s reaction? coming into the room after the boys told him he was wrong at practice or something, maybe he saw the comments?

it’s a little past eight when you hear the front door slam. you’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone with a smug grin on your face. the video you posted earlier is still blowing up, comment after comment pouring in. your favorite so far might be the one that reads “he’s so confident it’s actually heartbreaking”—but there’s stiff competition.

the sound of heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway makes your ears perk up, and you sit up straighter just in time for luke to appear in the doorway. he’s still in his practice gear, hair damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed pink, but his expression is what gets you: somewhere between confusion, betrayal, and... is that a pout?

“you,” he says, pointing at you with the kind of dramatic flair usually reserved for soap operas. “you set me up.”

you blink innocently, setting your phone down. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

luke steps further into the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “don’t play dumb. the guys wouldn’t shut up about your video during practice. jack kept reading the comments out loud! ‘cuticle pusher means nail thingies? HAHAHA.’ do you know how humiliating that is?”

you’re already biting your lip to keep from laughing, but when he mimics jack’s voice, the dam breaks. you burst into giggles, doubling over as luke groans loudly.

“it’s not funny!” he protests, though the way his ears turn pink suggests he’s more embarrassed than actually mad. “i was so proud of myself, and you—you let me think i was getting them all right!”

wiping a tear from your eye, you manage to catch your breath long enough to speak. “okay, okay, listen. it wasn’t my fault you were so confident! i mean, ‘tight lines’? really?”

he groans again, flopping onto the couch next to you with a dramatic sigh. “i knew something was off when you said i got ‘halo eye’ right. but you were so convincing!” he shoots you a look, half accusing, half amused. “you’re evil. actually evil.”

you snicker, nudging his shoulder. “oh, come on. you were having fun.”

“yeah, until i realized you were setting me up for the internet to roast me,” he mutters, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “look at this—this one says i belong in a museum for confidence alone.”

you glance at his screen and can’t help but laugh again. “they’re not wrong.”

he groans, tossing his phone onto the coffee table and sinking lower into the couch. “i’ll never live this down.”

“oh, stop being dramatic,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you made people laugh, and isn’t that what really matters?”

he’s quiet for a moment, then tilts his head toward you, lips twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “did i at least look good in the video?”

you grin, reaching up to ruffle his curly hair. “you always look good, lukey. even when you’re confidently getting everything wrong.”

his laugh rumbles under your ear as he finally relaxes, letting himself sink into the moment. “you better watch your back, though. payback is coming.”

“oh, i’m shaking,” you say with a smirk, already planning the next video in your head.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes blurb #new jersey devils #nj devils #hughes brothers #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #njd

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crushpunky · 8 hours ago

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drew tells a story about actress!reader

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this one’s a bit short, but it was suggested and i thought it was really cute so yk i had to write it. based off of drew’s recent esquire interview <3

“Your audition tape for Queer was a slam dunk, can you tell us what you did for the tape?” Drew read the question card.

“Oh, this is actually a funny story.” Drew laughed to himself, crossing his legs. “The first one I had my good friend Rudy Pankow help me tape it. I usually have my girlfriend help me, but she was shooting at the time.”

“One of the scenes was me in bed, I believe, and so Rudy came to my apartment,” Drew explained, speaking dramatically with his hands, “and I had my camera and tripod set up and I was laying in the bed, kinda sort-of framing myself and he came in was like… ‘so what are we doing’?”

Drew laughed, “and I told him, ‘just trust me, ok, I need your help’. Then, as if it couldn’t get any more suspicious, my wonderful girlfriend, y/n, gets back from shooting and walks into our room to find me and Rudy on our bed with the camera set up.”

“I was like, ‘babe I promise this is not what it looks like, I’m just filming an audition’, but she was already like on the floor, crying and laughing.” Drew grinned at the memory, the site of y/n’s smile and adorable laughter playing in his mind.

“But, I appreciate him for helping me with that… and y/n for not freaking out at the strange site she walked in on.” Drew laughed, flipping to the next card.

“Oh, speak of the devil, your good friend y/n y/ln was quoted saying, ‘Drew is probably the scariest sweetheart you’ll ever meet’,” Drew blushed as he read, “what is it like finding the balance between ‘scary’ and ‘sweetheart’ roles?”

The quote was from an interview when someone asked y/n if she ever felt intimidated or even scared working opposite Drew as the big bad Rafe Cameron on Outer Banks. While the scenes between their characters on OBX would certainly get intense at times, it wasn’t very often she was “scared” of Drew. After all, she knew her boyfriend better than anyone else and knew the big heart hiding behind his imposing exterior.

“Wow, I’d like to thank my ‘good friend’ y/n y/ln for that wonderful quote.” Drew grinned, scratching his jaw bashfully. “Well I certainly like to challenge myself, and y’know depending on where I am, that could come in the form of more intense roles or more grounded or more kinda… soft? I don’t know. Y/n says I need to be in a rom com, so maybe that’ll be the next step after this.”

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader

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rose24207 · 3 days ago

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sliding into the requests and asking for something where Mafia Lando gets jealous when some guy flirting with you and he dosnt find out till he walks on this guy flirting and reader and Lando aren't even dadting but it should be common knowledge reader is off limits. 🫦

Your work is in flick. Like seriously you're other fics are so good. 🤌

The Rookie’s Mistake

Summary: In which a Rookie makes a mistake by unknowingly flirting with someone that belongs to Lando.

Genre: Mafia!Lando

TW: Mafia

A/N: thank you soo much for the request and the feedback. It brings me joy to read the positive comments! I hope you like it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

It was late in the evening when you stepped into the dimly lit bar, the familiar hum of low conversation and clinking glasses greeting you.

The space was quiet, but that was how you liked it.

It was the kind of night where you could relax with a glass of wine, the weight of your thoughts temporarily lifting in the presence of a small crowd.

You’d been invited to this particular gathering, a casual evening among Lando’s men. They’d told you he was busy with something that couldn’t wait, as always.

But tonight, you weren’t upset by his absence. After all, you’d grown used to it.

You ordered your drink from the bar and settled in, letting your eyes scan the room.

Lando’s empire wasn’t easy to navigate, and most of his men understood that. They knew who you were—Lando’s—and they respected the boundaries that came with that. No one dared to flirt, not without serious consequences.

But the key word was most.

And tonight, it was a rookie’s turn to make a fatal mistake.

You saw him the moment he walked in—a fresh face among the usual crowd of hardened men.

His name was Luca.

You didn’t know much about him, except that he had just been assigned to Lando’s inner circle.

He looked cocky, sure of himself, his expensive jacket and confident gait announcing that he was more than just a rookie to him.

As you took another sip from your glass, you noticed him glancing in your direction.

There was an arrogance in his eyes that made something in your stomach tighten. He was the kind of guy who walked into a room and immediately thought he had the world at his feet.

Luca’s eyes flicked to you again.

This time, the look was different.

It was bold.

Too bold.

You raised an eyebrow, internally rolling your eyes. There was always one rookie who thought they could play it like that.

He sauntered over to where you were sitting, his smile broad and completely unaware of the invisible warning signs radiating from every person in the room.

Every one of Lando’s men who saw him move in your direction stiffened, exchanging wary glances.

They didn’t have to speak to each other—they knew better.

Luca, on the other hand, was too full of himself to notice.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little too close to your table as he flashed you a confident smile.

“I don’t think we’ve met. Name’s Luca.”

You looked up at him from your seat, coolly assessing him.

“I know who you are,” you replied, your voice calm, almost disinterested.

Luca chuckled, his smile widening. “Oh yeah? I guess I’m pretty memorable.”

He took a seat across from you without waiting for an invitation.

“You’re not from around here, are you? You don’t look like the usual crowd. More like… well, you’re too pretty to be hanging out with this lot.”

The comment made you roll your eyes inwardly. You’d heard worse from men who were actually worth your time, but Luca’s arrogance was another level. He didn’t even seem to care that the men who worked for Lando—who worked with Lando—were now all watching, a few of them with uneasy glances.

But none of them intervened yet.

No one dared.

“I’m not some random girl, if that’s what you’re implying,” you said, choosing your words carefully.

You wanted to make it clear, but without outright insulting him just yet.

“Of course, of course,” Luca replied, his voice smooth as silk, but there was a certain smugness to it now.

“I’m just saying… maybe you could use some company. It’s not every day you see someone so stunning walking around this place. What do you say? We grab a drink and see where things go?”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes.

The audacity.

He was so naive, thinking you’d fall for some charming line. This wasn’t your first encounter with men like him—but it was definitely one of the more brazen.

But before you could respond, you felt it.

A shift in the air.

A dark weight that wasn’t there just moments ago.

The subtle sound of boots hitting the floor, slow, deliberate.

Luca didn’t notice.

He was too busy leaning in, clearly enjoying the small audience of Lando’s men who were now holding their breath.

The rest of the crew, including Marco, the long-time veteran of the group, exchanged glances.

They all knew exactly what was going on, and none of them were about to step in.

Not unless things went south.

Then, just as Luca’s hand moved a little too close to yours, his words still echoing in your ears, a voice you knew all too well interrupted.

“Luca.”

The sound of Lando’s voice sent an immediate wave of tension across the room.

The entire group of men froze, but Luca, for all his arrogance, didn’t seem to realize what was happening until Lando’s figure appeared in the doorway.

Lando stood there, eyes dark, sharp, like an animal sensing its prey. His gaze flicked to Luca, and then to you.

The moment he saw your face, the storm that had gathered around him seemed to calm, just slightly.

His expression softened, but his eyes were still cold, piercing through Luca like daggers.

“Lando,” Luca said, rising quickly, wiping his hands on his pants as if trying to look more composed.

“It’s nothing, I was just—”

“Don’t,” Lando interrupted, his voice low, deadly calm. “I know exactly what you were doing.”

The men in the room stiffened, each of them understanding the unspoken command in Lando’s tone.

Luca looked a little less confident now, though he was still trying to salvage his dignity.

“You’re new here,” Lando continued, taking slow steps toward the table.

The air felt thick now, heavier with every move he made.

“But you should’ve learned by now that you don’t flirt with what’s mine.”

Luca blinked, his smile fading as he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation.

“Lando, I didn’t know—” Luca began, but his voice trailed off as Lando’s glare intensified.

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Lando said, his voice dangerously soft. “You didn’t know.”

You watched as Luca’s face flushed, all the confidence he had been exuding evaporating in an instant.

Lando was not someone to be messed with, and everyone in this room had known that from the start.

Lando’s eyes didn’t leave Luca for a moment. He gestured to the door with a sharp, almost imperceptible motion.

“Get out,” he ordered, his voice icy. “And don’t come back until you’ve learned some respect.”

Luca’s face contorted into a mix of frustration and embarrassment, but he knew better than to argue.

He quickly mumbled a hasty apology and made a retreat toward the door, his shoulders hunched in defeat.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the tension in the room lifted, but only slightly. Marco’s eyes met Lando’s, a quiet understanding passing between them. It was the kind of unspoken language only Lando’s men understood—the kind of trust that ran deeper than words.

Lando turned to face you, his gaze softening, the dangerous edge fading.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, exhaling the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “I’m fine.”

Lando’s jaw tightened, his eyes still a little too intense. “No one touches what’s mine, Y/N. Not even the rookies.”

You smiled faintly, letting your gaze soften. “I know.”

And for a moment, it was just the two of you in the room. All the chaos, all the power, all the danger seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the quiet hum of the bar and the unspoken promise in Lando’s eyes.

You were his. And in this world of shadows and blood, nothing was ever going to change that.

Thank you for reading!

#lando x reader #lando x you #lando imagine #lando norris #mafia au #f1 mafia au #f1 #f1 x reader #f1!mafia #mafia!lando #Mafia

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ere-the-sun-rises · 3 days ago

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Okay, I'm sorry again Medieval and Biblical Latinists, but this post popped up in my notifs again and the more I look at it, the more revolted I become. Wheelock's love for Republican and legible Latin is possessing me from beyond the grave, so let's go.

"Pro Jupiter, puer, ecce bibendum!" Where the fuck do I even start. The sentence is straight up an incoherent collection of words. The literal translation is "Before Jupiter, boy, lo! about to be drank." What the fuck were you even trying to type??? Were YOU drunk doing this? I thought the Vatican was supposed to be full of monks with nothing better to do. You're shaming your 9th century copyist predecessors.

"Pro" is used wrong. It usually takes an ablative, because "before" is temporal, not spacial - it doesn't usually mean "in front of [object]" so much it means "[in the period of time] before [event]". If you're looking to say something like "by god", then a more natural invocation would in vocative or ablative of agent - "O Jupiter" or ""Ab Jove".

"Ecce" is bizarrely out of place. It should be at the beginning of a sentence because it's not actually a word, it's an exclamation. You wouldn't place "behold!" or "huzzah!" in the middle of a sentence, you heathen.

"Bibendum"? Bibendum??? You can't have a participle in a complete sentence without a normal verb. Participles can't ever stand on their own. If you're using this as a substantive ... why??? Just use the word for whatever this liquid is. Even as a substantive it barely makes sense. It's the equivalent of holding out a cup and saying "liquid" with no further context. Why are you making this so hard and ugly to read???

I don't think the sentence is even salvagable because I cannot figure out what the fuck it was even trying to say. If I had a gun with one bullet in it, I would use it to shoot this sentence. Hang the translator by the nipples unless they're into that.

I can't read most of the second panel, but the last phrase "dubito quin sciat" is clearly meant to stand on its own by the way the punctuation is placed. And that is a damn shame because it's horrific. It reads "I doubt why he would know."

Students, please note that "quin" is an interrogative adverb meaning "why?" The question mark is non-optional. It's literally only a question word - why is it in a passage that does not contain a question???

"Sciat" is weird here. Subjunctives can be used as a clause verb, but scio in particular usually takes an accusative noun to make sense. The word means "to perceive with the senses" but can also be used as shorthand for "to see/to know/to understand".

The sentence would read better as "dubito ut illum sciret" or "I doubt that [he] would see this [thing]."

0/10, broke ass original construction. Lock the translator in a basement with Wheelock's textbook until one or the other breaks.

"Heu, Timothee, mater tua delapsa est ob cutem arienae et P. S. mortua est." Fine, this one isn't technically wrong, but it is brutally literal in a frankly uninspired way.

"Delapsa est"?? Have you no imagination? No creativity? No sense of good Latin prose? Delabor does mean "to fall/to descend" but it also means "to fall to ruin/to be destroyed". A much better (and funnier) word would have been "cado", which means "to fall [down]" too, but crucially also means "to be cut down/to be slaughtered/to die". It would be a way better play on words with the "mortua est" following after.

His name needs to be Romanized. Do you think the Romans had names like Vergilius for fun?? No! It was so the fucking thing could be declined. Fix Timothee's name.

I don't like "ob". It feels wrong, like a skinwalker. It's not meant to be here. It can technically mean "on account of", but it's more prominent meaning is "toward". It should probably be replaced by a dative or ablative of agent/means here instead.

"Cutem" should be cuto, to be dat./abl. of agent/means. An accusative doesn't look right when the sentence's main verbs are passive, since passives are reflexive.

"et P. S. mortua est." Ugly, disfiguring little addendum. Why is it in the same past tense as delapsa? Repetitio is only fashionable in poetry. This is prose - you need variatio. Cicero and I hate it here.

It would read better as "Tua mater, Timotheius, cuto arienae casura est, cepitque morti." - "Your mother, Timothee, fell [by means of] the skin of a banana, and [she] was seized by death."

These panels only get more offensive to the Latin language the longer I look at them. This translator would get roasted alive by any ancient or Medieval scholiast who read this and they would deserve it. Even poets would vomit.

today i found out that if you have library access through ur school, you almost definitely have a copy of the vatican’s latin translation of diary of a wimpy kid and i am currently reading Commentarii de Inepto Puero thank you

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notthesoup · 1 day ago

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got a few ideas for your writers block

stoner vi and what she’s like when she’s high

athlete vi au and her reaction to you going to her games

what vi is like when she has a crush on reader like a massive one

PAIRING vi x fem!reader

TYPE headcanons

SYNOPSIS what vi is like when she has a major crush on reader (friends to lovers)

NOTES i will complete the other two prompts on a seperate post. not beta read!

She loves the way you laugh, and though she may not admit it in the early stages of tour friendship, she’ll often do things to try to make you laugh.

In group settings she is often seen by your side. You both are inseparable in times of happiness, preferring to share it with one another.

Vi is a big listener, and loves to hear you talk. Though, sometimes she finds her mind adrift as she gazes at your face as you speak animatedly about a subject. In these moments, her mind is blank, but there is an overwhelming feeling of affection and appreciation towards you.

When she focuses back on the conversation after you’ve asked her a direct question, she quickly flounders. She thinks that her excuse as to why she wasn’t listening is enough to tide you over, but there’s a certain glint in your eyes when you contemplate why she started spluttering. Your fixed stare at her is almost enough to make this cycle repeat again.

Vi is a very physical person, always having a hand on your shoulder or arm, holding your hand in hers, or absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

She sometimes feels guilty/anxious about this physical aspect of herself though; throughout her life, fighting has been at the forefront of her mind, so to finally be at peace is a strange headspace to be in. Sometimes you’ll walk too quietly or turn a corner to quickly and she flinches, her fists clenched in instilled preparation. It’ll take a while, but she eventually unlearns these habits and exists in a more serene state, where she doesn’t have to be constantly vigilant.

Vi loves that she’s able to talk about stupid shit with you; what qualifies as a soup, what a hypothetical second winter would look like, whether cherry tomatoes are inherently evil, etc. The both of you could discuss for hours without tiring, even though you’d eventually talk in circles. It’s never a dull moment with you.

Vi’s love language is acts of service. She realizes her feelings towards you are more than just a crush when you surprise her with something seemingly small, be it a cute note or an offer to help her with errands.

Although she has a reputation of being a smug cocky bastard (affectionate), it’s mostly a bluff. When it comes down to it, she’s a very gentle and careful lover. After realizing the extent of her feelings towards you, she tries gauging your reaction by “subtly” being more affectionate.

In the end though, it’s actually you who initiates the romance between you two. Months down the line, she’ll ask you how you knew she liked you. You’ll then laugh, a very boisterous and happy sound, and she’ll store that memory with her like a picture in a wallet.

ARCANE MASTERLIST !

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting! thank you if you do 🤍

#bells ring #vi #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi headcanons #vi x reader headcanons #arcane #inbox #anon

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our-hextech-dream · 2 days ago

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i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

#league #arcane #viktor #jayce talis #hextext #also i'm not like devastated over it. i've seen worse endings and way worse character assassination.#this is just my onion ya know.

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restinan · 1 day ago

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I don't actually think that shooting the ten guys with the wealth has literally never made things better at any point in the history of man. If you actually read my post instead of pattern-matching it to the nearest easy thing to dunk on you might notice that I don't ever say anything incompatible with there being a wide range of outcomes. That said, it really is the case if you read history broadly there are trends in how well countries do if they descend into political violence and civil war. It tends not to make things better. Yes, there's a distribution- it's not a good distribution.

I understand that's a bit rude to accuse you of pattern matching to something dunkable rather than actually thinking, but you're the one who opened by attributing people who disagree with you to propaganda from the US government and fantasy novels. I get that that lets you feel pleasantly smug but there are in fact historically literate people who disagree with you for real reasons.

The American Revolution is probably one of the examples of "just kill some people" working out well you're thinking of here. It's genuinely true that things worked out well, but the American Revolution was a very weird civil war. The American revolution notably preserved most of the existing ruling class and didn't substantially disrupt the general structure of society. If you want to argue that wars of secession specifically have a very different track record from popular uprisings or attempting to use political violence to stabilize a country you'd have a good case for doing so. That said, even in that reference class the American Revolution had much better results than typical.

Perhaps you're not thinking of something so famous and instead thinking of examples like the overthrow of the government of communist Romania?

If you're making predictions from the American Revolution and the French Revolution and a handful of overthrows of dictatorships at the end of the Cold War and not on the banal, boring, usually forgotten peasant uprisings in Early Modern Europe, or the various peasant uprisings and descents into warlordism in Ancient China, or the slow rise of political violence and decay in norms in the Roman Republic (a shiny popular example, but still not one you should leave out- reversed stupidity isn't intelligence and we have a disproportionate amount of insight into this one), or the dozen instances of political violence in the early twentieth century aiding in the rise of the opposed party from the people doing the violence, or the communist attempts to swiftly restructure society in ways that accidentally caused massive famines, or the general outcomes of civil wars in the late 20th century, or the hundred other things in this vein, you're going to end up wrong about things.

Yes, the distribution of outcomes is wide. Yes, it is not entirely negative. That doesn't mean anywhere near as much as it might seem. A lottery which has a 50% chance of killing you horribly, a 20% chance of torturing you before you die, a 30% chance of leaving you alive but worse off, a 10% chance of not much detectable change, and a 10% chance of making things a small amount better, is not a lottery worth playing. That doesn't correspond to the political violence lottery, it's just a simple example.

The obvious response to this is that we should be examining the cases where it goes well to see how to get results like that. That response is a good response. However, to do that you need to know in the first place that violent revolution isn't a magical cure-all. You need to know that it tends negative or you won't even bother figuring out how to make it not do that. You need to know that the present has a larger list of fragile improvements and so you can't just use outcomes from nobility in 13th century France or even 18th century America to make predictions.

Things are legitimately different in the period where wealth flows almost entirely from land and just killing people and taking their land will mostly just work to enrich yourself. Even then, doing a bunch of it via an outside-the-norms-method in a polity and eroding the legitimacy of whatever is stopping the descent into violence from kicking off earlier tends to result in more and more violence over time. That trend really isn't hard to notice. Almost every single time without exception you end up with the place in general being drastically worse off. Usually the people who started the cycle end up very dead and frequently their family ends up extinct or less powerful than they started. Yes, they cared about different things- it was still usually a mistake to kick off a period of violence by their own values. For an example of this, consider literally any period of civil war in the history of China. Yes, someone manages to succeed and end up the next dynasty. The odds of being that someone aren't great. Assassinating your uncle to end up Emperor has a better track record. if not a stellar one. It's also not a mass uprising, and has a lower chance of kicking off a civil war.

If all you do is notice a lot of the people who hold a view are unsophisticated and stupid, find a couple counterexamples, and then smugly posture about how there's nuance, you see, you may legitimately be doing better than the idiots. But you need to actually know the distribution to be right, you can't just notice some other people know less than you and assume that means nobody knows more. Historians can tend kind of stupid in a lot of ways but there is actually something you get from having seen a broad overview of history. Not as much as a lot of historians like to pretend, but "just using a bunch of outside-the-norms violence to try to make things better for you personally was a high risk strategy before the modern world, doing it to make things better for people in general or for the sake of preserving a polity's stability was harder still, and the modern world makes it all work a lot less well" is one of the things that is, frankly, somewhat overdetermined.

What people care about is usually whether something makes slides into dictatorship more likely. Whether it makes famines more likely. Whether it makes instability and a lot of suffering more likely. Whether it tends to make things worse by our values, both when people don't care much about that and even when they do. The answers there are pretty clear. Yes, there's a distribution rather than a universal single outcome. It's not a good one.

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fanbasetwo · 3 days ago

Note

first time w anton? virgin anton x virgin reader?

IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙂

✦ BABY GIRL, 143 ! ANTON

001. PAIRING , virgin anton × virgin reader

002. SYNOPSIS , anton had been away from you for some months and now when he was back, you showed him all the texts you had seen on his phone. only ending up sealing the deal at the end.

003. GENRE , smut

004. WARNING(S) , kissing, a little dirty talk but anton is just shameless lol, teasing, pussy slapping, little to no prep, boob play, nipple play (slightly), they make up pretty early after fight, hymen breaking, mentions of blood and pain, too much plot if you ask me, lmk if I missed anything.

005. WORD COUNT , 1.8K

MASTERLIST!! join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

You had been dating Anton for a few years now. You met through a dating app, and while some might find that odd, you both clicked instantly. For better or worse, you fell in love.

Since you started dating at a young age, you both decided to seek job opportunities outside of town, which meant navigating a long-distance relationship. While many say long-distance relationships often fizzle out, that wasn’t the case for you two.

In fact, Anton would send you those silly memes that made you laugh and would video call you while cooking, asking for your advice if he messed something up. His friends teased you, saying you two were practically a married couple, and while there was some truth to that, the more accurate reality was that you both missed each other terribly.

So when he finally returned after landing a high-paying job—while you worked part-time as a cashier to cover rent—he insisted on paying your rent, but you turned him down.

The relationship seemed perfect, especially with his visit after what felt like two long years apart. But everything changed when you accidentally glanced at his phone. A text from a number with a heart emoji as a name read, “Is my baby fine?” In that moment, the realization hit you hard: the person you thought was your boyfriend was cheating on you.

“SO YOU CHEATED?!” you shouted as soon as you heard him enter the apartment. Anton, always the goofy one, jumped back in surprise at your furious tone and asked, feigning ignorance, “I’m not sure what you're talking about.”

“The message!” you ground out through clenched teeth, pointing at his phone, which he had mistakenly left behind.

As understanding seemed to dawn on him, he cursed under his breath and then smiled, which only confused you more. Why was he smiling? Shouldn’t he be trying to explain himself? Did those years together not mean anything to him?

Then he stepped closer, and instinctively, you took a step back until your back hit the wall of your apartment. His hands cupped your face as he said, “Hmm… Why would you trust the text so much? The ‘baby’ wasn’t me. The ‘baby’ was her dog, the one she asked me to take care of for a while.”

You didn’t buy it, so you pressed on, “Oh really? Then why does her username have a heart?”

He paused for a moment but answered without hesitation, even though you glared at him. “Well, maybe because that’s my mom?”

Processing that, your eyes widened. It actually made a sick sort of sense. The woman in the profile picture looked significantly older and bore some resemblance to Anton. Now you found yourself in a strange situation, filled with doubt.

You had just confronted your longtime boyfriend, your heart racing at the thought of betrayal, all sparked by a simple text while he gently held your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I’m hurt, but I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you. I could never cheat on you, Y/N,” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin anchoring you in that moment.

It took you back to when your love was fresh and innocent, when you were just seventeen, lost in each other’s world. Those years apart felt like an eternity, and as you closed your eyes, you longed for the sweetness of his touch, the electric thrill of his lips on yours.

The kiss deepened, a beautiful melody played by your lips as you moved together in perfect sync. He pulled away just enough to catch his breath before diving back in, his tongue tracing gentle patterns that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt the rhythm of your tongues entwining, a lovely exploration you had only ever dreamed of. You had talked about waiting for one another, yet now you felt the exhilarating unknown of your connection. His hands traveled up your shirt, igniting tingles on your skin, and as he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, the world around you faded away.

“Can I touch you more?” he asked, his hands gliding under your shirt as he looked at you with such intensity and love, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. The truth was, both of you were a bit inexperienced in this area, but let’s be honest, you both wanted to explore… so you nodded.

Before long, his hands were cupping your breasts beneath your shirt and bra. He was touching your bare skin. You could feel both of your breaths hitching; it was something new for the two of you after all.

You feel Anton's warm breath on your face as he leans in close, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I can... really touch, right?" he murmurs, looking for your confirmation before pulling you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you. His tongue dances with yours as the kiss deepens, sending tingles through your body.

When you nod, he breaks the kiss, and his hands move with a swiftness that takes your breath away. Your shirt and bra are discarded in one smooth motion, leaving your bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. His thumbs find your nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds until they harden into tight peaks. You can't help but let out a soft moan as waves of pleasure wash over you, your back pressed firmly against the wall.

Suddenly, you're airborne as Anton scoops you up in his arms, cradling you securely against his chest. A warm feeling envelops you, and you can't help but wish that at least one of you had some experience with this. "You don't mind, right?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he lays you down gently on the bed.

"Yeah, but..." you trail off, a hint of nervousness creeping into your tone. "Do you know how to...? At least one of us should know what we're doing."

Anton crawls on top of you, his powerful body hovering over yours. He leans down, planting a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts before looking up at you from between them. A sheepish grin spreads across his face. "I may have watched some... for scientific purposes, of course," he adds with a playful wink.

His arousal is evident, a hardened bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It brushes against your jeans, sending shivers through both of you.

Your eyes flutter shut as Anton unbuttons his pants, the sound of fabric sliding against fabric filling the room. He discards them on the floor, along with your own jeans, the cool air brushing against your now bare skin. His large hand envelops your smaller one, guiding it towards his clothed bulge. You both hitch a breath as your fingers make contact, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.

"See what you do to me?" he whispers, his voice low and husky with need. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest as he pushes his boxers down, and you see him, all hard and long, your eyes widening as a deep blush spreads across your cheeks at the exposed sight of him, vulnerable to you.

"Baby, you wanna put it in or do I?" he asks, unapologetic and direct, his tone incredulous. You squirm under him and look away, embarrassment exuding like a palpable scent.

"That's not quite. decent," you mumble, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Anton chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. "For what we're about to do, I don't think we should care about being decent," he says with a raised brow and a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as your clothes join his on the floor.

Again, his hand bumps against yours to move it to his bare cock. You can feel every ridge and vein beneath your fingertips, the heat of his skin searing against your own. Your shyness returns, but there's no denying the effect your touch has on him. He groans and his hips bulge slightly as your hand is constricted around his length.

"Have you never slept with anyone?" you ask, a note of skepticism creeping into your voice because of how confident he seemed. He shakes his head, the dark locks falling across his forehead.

"It's because I love you and I trust you," he breathes, words stuttered over a guttural curse as your hand tightens its grip. "Fuck.”

Your grip tightens on the shoulder of Anton as his cock teases your wetness, the head slapping lightly against your pussy. He lets out a sigh as that anticipation builds between you and him. "I am going to put it in," he whispers, his gaze searching yours for any sign of disapproval. Finding none, he slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance.

A shiver of agony rips across you as your cherry is broken, drops of blood trickling down into your pussy. Tears well up from your squeezed eyes, your body tensing against this strange sensation. Anton buries his face in the crook of your neck, his own breathing in ragged gasps. "It—h-hurts—" your voice cracks, the words barely audible.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he asks, "Should I pull out?" Despite the guilt etched on his face, you shake your head stubbornly. "No, I want to do it." Your walls clench around him, your body instinctively trying to accommodate his size.

Anton takes a sharp breath of air. He waits a few moments before pushing deeper. A scream tears from your throat, your body arching off the bed as he sheathes himself fully inside you. Tears stream down your face, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he stills, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

"This is good, right? You're not scared now. are you?" he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently, your body slowly relaxing as it grows accustomed to the stretch.

"Mm." is all you can say, your mind dazed by the shocks of the sensations. His cock spasms inside you, and you and he are suddenly acutely aware of the crimson stain spreading across the sheets. Concern flickers in his eyes, but he knows this is normal, a testament to your lost innocence.

"It's okay, baby. It's supposed to hurt a little the first time," Anton reassures you, his voice soft and soothing. He kisses your tears away, his lips trailing along your cheek and down your neck. "I've got you. We'll go slow."

He starts to move, his hips rocking gently against yours, easing you into the rhythm. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure mixed with discomfort, your body struggling to adapt to the foreign sensation of being filled so completely.

"Breathe, Y/N. In and out," he coaches, his own breathing ragged as he fights to maintain control. "Tell me how it feels. If it's too much, I'll stop."

You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on the instructions. "I-It's intense," you manage, your voice trembling. "But don't stop. I want to feel all of you."

NOTE FROM SENA , this was genuinely just supposed to be a drabble, how the hell is this 1.8k words 😭💕

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alaskan-wallflower · 7 hours ago

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doing research on vietnam and the draft to make actual historically accurate takes so here’s what i got

darry would’ve been drafted, however i believe he would’ve been able to opt out of it as the sole provider of money in the family (though im not sure—in 1970 president nixon set a law for fathers (ik darry isn’t a father but a legal guardian hence why idk if this would work) to prove why their absence would have been dangerous within the family-ill have to find out what year(s) jan 5 was called tho)

edit: also darry would’ve been called to fight in 1969 before the law nixon set in place…BUT if you think about it, the chronic back pain he suffers could’ve been a possible way for him to be exempt (i think he’d play up whatever cards he could to make sure he didn’t have to go-idk i feel like that’s more in character than him just leaving. i think he’d make every effort to stay and i think he could’ve made it work)

edit 2: darry would have been exempt due to his chronic back pain—“any injury that would impair someone’s full efficiency as a soldier will be exempt” (he also wouldn’t have made it through any boot camp activities either with the pain)

soda wouldn’t have been drafted

ponyboy would’ve been but he actually would’ve been exempt because he would be in college at that time-a full time college student was exempt (though i suppose it also depends on whether you think the events happened in ‘64 or ‘67 but regardless the draft ended in 1973 so idk if it would matter either way since pony would’ve graduated in either ‘72 or ‘75 anyway—i don’t think july 22 was called in ‘72 or ‘73)

edit: edit-the draft for july 22nd was called in 1969, when pony would’ve been a full time college student (or in the case of choosing the musical timeline he would’ve been a junior or senior in high school, so regardless pony would have been exempt from the war because he would’ve been a full time college student in ‘69 or he would still be in high school)

johnny would’ve been drafted if he lived , however he would’ve been physically handicapped (unable to walk) and unable to fight anyway so he would’ve been exempt

dally would’ve been drafted with no way out (unless you wish to count if he had gotten shot and lived, in which case the area he would’ve been shot in would probably be the determining factor in if he was drafted or not)

edit: due to dallas’ criminal record i don’t think he’d have been eligible (though it’s hard to tell since his crimes (as far as i know) are all mild misdemeanors (petty theft, driving w/out a license, stuff like that) so idk if that would leave him exempt or not—there’s nothing online saying either way so idk—all that i’ve read is that you can sign a plea waiver but there were felons who fought in vietnam, so im not sure if he would’ve been exempt—but regardless thanks @curlyshepardconfirmed!

two bit would not have been drafted

steve would not have been drafted

tim would not have been drafted either

so realistically the only one who would’ve been drafted if he lived would be dally , depending on the route you wish to go on with him

hope this helps 👍

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle #idk i’m like 99.9% sure darry has chronic back pain

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sugarushwriting · 2 days ago

Text

cherry popper

reader x jay

jay, your long time school crush

a trip between your friend group and his to a cabin in the woods

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

check out my masterlist!

“will you loosen up!” your friend, yuna, exclaimed. “we are here to have fun!”

“hard to have fun when it’s freezing, a snow storm coming our way, and to top it off, you booked a cabin on a hill in the woods!” you rattled off, pulling your suite case out of the rented SUV.

your other friend, sully, scoffed, “you need to leave those suspense books and movies, alone.”

you huffed crossing your arms. “how did you even know my mind was going that way?”

“because your mind always does.” sully replied.

“no it doesn’t.”

“yes it does.” both sully and yuna replied with a laugh.

you huffed once again, your coat not doing much to keep you warm. “when are these other friends of yours coming, yuna?”

yuna smiled big, “oh soon. they should be arriving any minute now!”

you helped the girls with their suite cases, bright lights coming up the icy driveway. it had began to snow slightly, and was thankful you all made it before the actual storm.

3 boys got out of the SUV. jake, sunghoon, and jay.

you gasped, nearly hyperventilating. “yuna, i will kill you!” you said through gritted teeth, and both girls just giggled. “why didn’t you tell me it was them three? specially, jay!”

“because if i told you he was coming, you would’ve backed out!” yuna sighed.

“you’ve had a crush on him since high school. it’s been three years and we are now third years in college. it’s time to make a move.”

“and lose that damn virginity!”

you scoffed, slapping yuna’s arm, “not so loud, would you?”

yuna just laughed as the three boys came up the driveway with their own suitcases or duffles.

“hi ladies.” jake smiled.

“hi jake, jay, and sunghoon!” yuna smiled eagerly, you and sully waving.

all three boys greeted you by name and sully along with yuna.

“i’m glad you came!” jake said to you.

jay added with a chuckle, “when yuna said you were coming, we almost didn’t believe it.”

“oh yeah, well, i didn’t have a choice really.” you mumbled.

“it’s getting cold and my ass is freezing! let’s get inside. there’s a fireplace, how romantic!” yuna clapped and you all followed her up the steps, careful not to fall.

well, you tried to be careful, but ended up stepping on the snow wrong, and almost twisted your ankle.

jay caught you, “careful there.”

“oh, um thanks.”

yuna unlocked the door, you all rushing in to the warmth of the cabin airbnb. you all awed in delight with how beautiful it was.

“how many bedrooms does this place have?” sunghoon asked dropping his duffle.

jay and jake immediately went to the wood burning fireplace to add the already prepared, chopped wood.

“3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms.” yuna replied.

“three boys, three girls,” jay tapped his chin, “how are we going to divide it?”

“i vote jay sleeps alone. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes.” jake shivered at the thought.

you and the other girls laughed. jay shrugged, not complaining to have a bedroom to himself.

“ok so jay in one of the master—,”

“why does he get the master?” sunghoon objected.

“because you and jake are getting the room with the bunk beds!” yuna laughed.

“okay, we can deal with that!” jake said excitedly, sunghoon chuckling.

children.

“the girls and i will share the other master bedroom.”

“won’t it be crowded for you three?” jay asked. “i can sleep on the couch—,”

“absolutely no way!” yuna interrupted. “we’ll be fine. we’re used to sharing small beds.”

jake looked at all you girls with a flirty expression.

“get your head out of the gutter, sim!” sully screeched.

jake laughed. “let’s just unpack and get ready for dinner.”

about an hour and a half later, you all had changed into comfy clothes, and made 3 frozen pizzas in the oven.

3 bottles of alcohol open—whiskey, wine, and tequila along with some seltzer cans and beers.

“let’s play never have i ever!” yuna offered.

you groaned. “that juvenile game?”

“and you have a better idea?” yuna narrowed her eyes at you, but you shook your head with a sigh. “no.”

“it’s settled then!” yuna clapped.

she was so happy and eager this trip.

jay watched you closely. he has of course noticed you around like the other guys have, noting how pretty you are, but you stayed much to yourself.

“i’ll start,” yuna tapped her chin in thinking, “mhm, never have i ever made out with a stranger!”

all three boys and sully took a drink.

jake looked at you and yuna, “really? neither of you?”

yuna and you both shook your head no.

“my turn!” sully said, “never have i ever, got a piercing other than in my ear!”

you and yuna drank to that. the boys raised their eyebrows at the both of you.

“matching belly button piercings.” yuna leaned against you.

“and it hurt like a bitch too!” you sighed.

“you still have it?” jake asked.

“i don’t, but she does.” yuna said. “my mom threw a fit!”

“can we see it?” sunghoon asked.

you shrugged, standing up showing off your belly piercing.

“nice!” jay nodded. “can i go?”

“sure!” yuna agreed.

“never have i ever had sex with a girl other than in a bedroom.”

“LAME!” both sunghoon and jake laughed. they took sips of their drinks.

“should’ve phrased that a bit differently jay.” sully laughed.

“fine, never have i ever had sex with someone else other than in a bedroom.” jay rolled his eyes.

yuna and sully took a drink, leaving you and jay out.

“yall are lame!”

“no surprise she’s not drinking.” yuna laughed.

“what?” jake asked and you slapped yuna’s arm once again, shaking your head.

“what’s the wildest place you had sex?” yuna asked.

“just a car at a park.” sully answered.

jake smirked, “dressing room.”

“hotel balcony.” sunghoon answered.

“hot tub.” yuna was the last to reply. “and sunghoon, we’ll revisit that balcony answer later.”

“we both know the last two who didn’t drink probably have only ever fucked in a bed.” jake joked.

“nothing wrong with that.” jay defended.

you kept your lips closed. jay looked at you as you stayed quiet not backing him up.

“don’t you agree?”

“oh, uh, yeah—um, i guess.” you shrugged, lacking the confidence in your answer.

“what do you mean, you guess?” jake teased. “don’t tell me—,”

“can we move on, please!” you rushed out. “someone say something that’ll make me drink!”

“never have i ever had a crush on someone in this room.” yuna smirked looking right at you.

damnit. you took more than enough sips.

each of the boys took a sip, you the only girl. “what, you both never found them attractive?” you stared at yuna and sully shocked. “or me?” you teased.

“so what you’re saying is you find one of us attractive?” jake grinned.

you looked wide eyed between the three boys. “i don’t like this game, let’s play something else.” you suggested nervously, gulping your drink, emptying the cup.

jay was wondering, who did you have a crush on in this room? he knew sunghoon had a small crush on sully, jake having a crush on yuna, sully, and even you at one point.

yuna pulled out uno cards.

“oh thank goodness, a normal game!”

“no way! we’re using this to play truth or dare!”

you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. “oh great.” you mumbled.

“let me explain.” yuna began, shuffling the cards. “if you draw a red or blue card, it’s a dare. if you draw green or yellow, truth. wildcard, you choose truth or dare, if you get any of the draw two or fours, then you pick a truth or dare and give it to someone.”

“what if we run out of questions to ask?” sunghoon brought up.

“ya, that’s what google is for! sadly i left my sister’s game. you know the one with explicit content and questions.”

“ryunjin is probably hiding it from you.” sully scoffed, sipping her drink.

“whatever, let’s play!” yuna pouted.

after another twenty minutes of truth or dare, yuna was tired of the boring stuff. you still weren’t flirting or making a move on jay. jake was getting annoying. sully was flirting with sunghoon, who claims so much she doesn’t have a crush on.

“next, you pick.” yuna looked at you with a bored expression.

you picked out of the deck—red.

yuna smiled wickedly, “let me ask you the dare.”

you swallowed nervously. so far, any cards you picked that were dares, the group went easy on you. but you could tell yuna was bored and on a mission.

“yuna—,”

“out of this group of boys, who’d you pick to have sex with?”

all three of the boys choked on their beers. “yuna, ya!” jay scolded.

“a little warning would be nice!” jake added wiping his chin.

your face felt hot. “oh, uh, yu—i don’t think,” you stuttered out looking between the three boys and yuna and sully.

“just pick one! not that hard!” sully smiled.

then yuna put you on blast. she rolled her eyes, “fuck this! who out of the three boys would you chose to take your virginity?”

you froze in place. so did sully. and so did each of the boys.

“yuna.” sully said through a warning tone. she can’t believe yuna outed you like that.

you swallowed, fighting off tears. it wasn’t like you were ashamed or embarrassed to be a virgin, but it’s not something you’d really want to advertise, especially in front of your crush.

you told yuna with your crush being jay, you wouldn’t mind he be the one to take your virginity. you knew he was a nice guy.

but you didn’t know if he had sex with virgins. or even would be interested in you that way.

“i need to pee.” you quickly stood up, running to the bathroom down the hall.

“not cool yuna!” sully snapped.

yuna shrugged. “i was sick of her beating around the bush. if i didn’t do anything she sure wouldn’t have.”

“well you didn’t have to out her like that.” sully pushed yuna’s shoulder. “go apologize, now.”

yuna looked at the boys who were quiet and felt awkward.

“maybe we should end the night. we have 2 more nights here to enjoy it.” sunghoon said standing up with a stretch.

the boys turned in for the night, and the girls went to the bedroom. yuna knocked softly on the bathroom door hearing you sob quietly.

“i’m really sorry.” yuna apologized.

you knew you would soon forgive her. yuna wasn’t a bad person, she just had a strong extroverted personality compared to you. sometimes yuna forgot you weren’t all about putting your business out there or being forward.

you soon came out the bathroom, giving your friend a hug, sully joining in.

“i’m sorry, i really am. it’s just,” yuna sighed, “i saw you weren’t going to make a move! at least now jay is intrigued.”

you looked at yuna like she had two heads. “how do you know that?”

“you’re a virgin, with a crush on one of the boys, and never answered that question or who you would choose to take your virginity.” yuna explained. “jay is romantic and polite, but he’s still a man.”

sully snapped her fingers. “i did see him sneaking glances at you.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“no need to make me feel better.”

“we’re telling the truth!” yuna said. “trust me on this.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

around 2 am, you awoke freezing cold. of course you slept on the end, yuna and sully hogging the covers.

you got up quietly, walking towards the kitchen down the hall. you quickly made a cup of hot chocolate. while doing so, you noticed from outside, the snow falling heavily from the sky.

walking to the window, you stared up at the sky in awe at the gorgeous sight.

“pretty outside, huh?”

a voice startled you. turning around, you noticed it was jay, dressed in his pajamas.

you nodded to his question. “yeah, very pretty.”

he came up beside you, you turned back around to look out the window with him. “good thing we brought enough food to last us a couple days.”

“yeah.” you agreed softly. a cold chill ran over you, causing you to shiver.

“cold?”

you nodded. “sully and yuna are cover hoggers.” you laughed.

“i see you’re making hot chocolate. mind making me a cup? i’ll put more wood in the fireplace.”

you nodded walking back to the kitchen. jay put more firewood in the fireplace to get it warmed up, grabbing the extra blankets and pillows from the couch and setting them comfortably on the floor.

you brought jay a cup of hot chocolate, handing it to him, then sat down next to him, immediately enjoying the heat of the fireplace.

you both sat in quiet, enjoying the crackle of the fire, the quiet snow falling outside.

jay sighed deeply. “i, uh,”

you looked over at him, shocked he seemed nervous. you always thought he was cool and confident. the glow of the fire looked good against his honey skin, as his hands wrapped tightly around his cup.

“mhm?” you tilted your head, sipping the hot chocolate.

jay laughed nervously. “please don’t be offended.” he looked at you.

“i won’t.” you stated.

“i just—are you really a virgin?”

you sighed and nodded. “that i am.” you chuckled. “yuna didn’t lie.”

jay stayed quiet for a moment, calculating his next move. he didn’t want to scare you off or come off too strong.

“why?” you asked instead.

“mhm?” jay hummed, raising his eyebrow, sipping his hot chocolate.

“why did you ask if i was really a virgin?” you whispered out.

could yuna and sully be right?

jay scratched his eyebrow, then the back of his head. “it’s just, i don’t like questions left unanswered.”

“oh don’t i know it!” you chuckled. “remember senior year in high school? mr. youngin for once didn’t have the answer to a complex question and it drove you crazy?”

jay laughed remembering. “yeah.” he cleared his throat. “so i was wondering, um, actually, jake, sunghoon, and i were all wondering,”

you liked this side of jay, a stuttering mess. you bit your lower lip, fighting back a chuckle of amusement.

jay breathed through his nose, cursing himself for acting like such a loser right now. “so um, the first question, who in the room did you or do you have a crush on? and, uh, secondly, who would you choose to you know?”

you laughed, “no, i don’t know.”

where did this string of confidence come from? was it because jay seemed less intimidating than he does in the classroom? in an academic setting?

jay looked up at the ceiling, then back down to you. “who do you have a crush on and who do you want to take your virginity?” jay mumbled out quickly. “and please answer. please don’t leave me hanging.”

“why jay?” you asked seriously. “would you be disappointed if i said jake or sunghoon?”

“no, not disappointed. just, upset and jealous.”

you set your mug down next to you, grabbing jay’s chin between your thumb and index finger, making him look at you.

“it’s you dummy.” you laughed and kissed his lips softly, you both tasting like chocolate.

when you pulled away, jay almost looked like a giddy teenage boy. “me?” he whispered and you nodded.

“since second year of high school.” you confessed. “i’ve had a crush on you since then, jay.”

jay smiled confessing his own feelings. he hasn’t liked you as long as you’ve liked him, but he’s had a crush on you for the past two years, always afraid to make a move.

“yuna would punch us both.” you poked fun at.

jay had set aside his mug as well, leaning in to kiss your lips again. “do you want me to?” he asked against your lips.

“here? now?” you leaned away briefly, to look around the living room.

“i mean yeah. at least it’d be somewhere other than a bedroom.” he joked, but then cleared his throat, “but if you want to, we can go to my room.”

you’re starting to think yuna set this up in beginning—especially jay getting his own room.

“well it is kind of romantic to get my cherry popped by a fireplace.” you smiled.

jay smiled too, and leaned back in to kiss you softly. “i’ll be gentle, okay?”

you nodded against his lips, as he began to ease you down on the blankets that covered the floor. jay was careful to not bare all his weight on you, as his right hand ran up and down lengths of your side, goosebumps riding against your skin.

you then got shy. “uh don’t worry about going down on me or anything.”

jay looked at you like you’ve lost your mind. “i gotta get you turned on and wet for me.” he caressed your cheek.

you smiled shyly, “no need to worry about that. honestly been that way since you walked in the room.”

jay chuckled, “if you don’t want me to, i won’t, but i don’t mind it at all.”

“maybe another time? i—i just want my first time to be over. then you can take it slow if you want me a second time.”

“if? oh cherry, i will definitely want you a second time and more.” jay kissed roughly against your lips, appalled you’d even say something like that.

jay began to tuck his hand in your pajama bottoms and pull those, along with your underwear, down your legs as far as possible without breaking the kiss, then he did the same to his own bottoms.

“are you okay with no full nudity? still rather not have our friends get a full show.”

you nodded with a laugh. “yeah. let’s just be horny impatient teenagers.”

“i can do that. i—don’t have condoms, but i know jake does—,”

“absolutely do not wake him up!” you whispered. “how’s your pull out game?”

“well i’ve always used a condom—,”

“well tonight we can test it, if you’re okay with that?” you asked and jay nodded.

“yeah.” he answered softly. “just let me know when to stop if it hurts too much, okay?”

jay looked in your eyes, completely serious. you verbally told him you understood.

resting his forehead against yours, heavy breathing between you two, your face skewed, mouth slowly opening as jay push forward.

his dick meeting the tightness and resistance of you. you let out quiet gasps, as he slowly pushed in his tip, then inch by inch.

jay wasn’t lengthy, but he was thick.

your eyes snapped shut, your hands gripping jays shoulders, thankfully his skin protected by his shirt. a low moan of pain escaped your lips, mixed with a gasp as jay finished settling inside you.

he brought his lips down to meet yours for a rough, passionate kiss, almost as if he never wanted to stop kissing you.

jay used his tongue to distract you from your lower half and the stinging of it. he was still, dick settled into your cunt, which was pooling with wetness around him.

you didn’t even know you could get that wet.

just making out, while nestled inside you, when he felt you were distracted enough, jay pulled back slowly to push back even slower.

by accident you bit his lip. “fuck.” your head leaned back against the blanket, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

jay grabbed a pillow to place under your lower back for better leverage and for you to be more comfortable.

he sat up on his knees, your legs resting apart, enough for jay to rest in between them.

he pulled back out and began a slow thrusting pace, watching your facial expressions for any sign of extreme discomfort.

for the most part, you let out low pitched moans, and bit your lip. jays own mouth began to let out a few moans of his own, making sure to be quiet enough that only you could hear him.

other than the cackle of the fireplace and quiet sounds from you two, anytime jay pushed deeply into, your wet cunt made noise against his dick, it slicking down your behind, his balls slapping against your skin.

thankfully your friends were heavy sleepers for the most part.

jay leaned down for a different angle, his forearms resting on each side of your head, as his thrusts picked up in pace, the stinging pain still in place, but mixed with pleasure.

“fa-faster.” you grumbled against jays lips, and with no protest or hesitation, jay picked up this pace of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping getting louder, but you both ignored it.

your friends being able to potentially hear be damned. they’re always in your sex lives anyway.

jay thought you felt heavenly, and was for sure hoping for a second time, third time, as many times as he could, with you. he would definitely love to explore his sexual interests with you in different places.

he never had any interest in having sex with someone in someplace other than a bed, but with you, he can imagine taking you against the kitchen counter, a couch, in his car, against a fucking desk in an empty classroom.

the thought only excites him more, and when he heard the squelch of your cunt, he was done for.

“shit, im gonna come.” jay whispered out, leaning his hand down between the both of you to stimulate your clit.

you’ve never experienced an orgasm in your life, so you had no idea what they felt like. all you could feel was your bottom half starting to become overly sensitive, your legs shaking, and wanting jay to stop because you felt like crying.

“jay—it all feels like too much.” you cried against his shoulder. “i—i can’t take anymore, please.”

jay with a proud smile, kissed your forehead, quickly pulling out, lifting your shirt up to come on your stomach. in the belly piercing he finds so damn attractive. his come perfectly landed there, dripping down to meet your cunt.

“sorry—should’ve asked where you wanted me to come.” jay sighed in content and out of breath.

you laughed out of breath yourself. “s’fine.”

jay took off your bottoms completely, but pulled his up. he covered you with the extra blanket.

“mhm, wanna take a bath or shower?”

“why? want me in there too?” you joked.

“of course. but you’ll start to ache soon, shower sex can wait for now.”

you nodded tiredly. “can i sleep with you?” you yawned.

“of course cherry.”

“mhm, cherry?”

“my new nickname for you.” jay kissed your cheek.

thank you yuna!

#enhypen drabbles #fanfiction #engene #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #jay smut #reader x jay #enhypen jay #enhypen smut

134 notes · View notes

senigami-yltsom · 1 day ago

Text

I was going crazy reading this omg. I could tell right off the bat that this was going to be insanely well written but you still managed to exceed my expectations. You set the scene beautifully, and I love the little details scattered in that make it feel so much more real.

“Not when you got to wear that cute little black dress that’s been hanging in your closet for months”

I loved the showing > telling when the creepy guy approached the reader, the imagery you created of his appearance did a lot of heavy lifting for the subtext. Also love that the reader is actually capable herself. She put up a hell of a fight and acted, in my opinion, very realistically for how this scene might have played out in real life. The action was also phenomenally written, I was able to keep up with it the entire time which is rare for me.

This bit is really fucking good:

“His veins flex against his forearms, rippling with effort. It looks like he’s putting all his strength into incapacitating the man, but you know better. He’s putting all his strength into restraint.”

I loved Jason’s characterization, I thought it was a take that felt like there was a lot of depth and thought behind it, like you really know your character. The side characters too were actually very nice additions.

“I’ll take care of this.” He faces you. “Can you give me a minute? Is that okay?” His voice is calm.

Amazing, love it, no notes

Very cute how he has someone escort her to the office just in case.

“It’s not ‘bad skills,’ it’s cost-effective. ‘M runnin’ a business here, baby. If you need a place to sit that badly, you can sit right here.” He joked, patting his lap. And he said it with such conviction you believed him, but the next time you visited there was a brand new, plushy suede couch pushed against the wall.

Not only is the dialogue so alluring, this!! Is!!! So!!!! Sweet!!!!!!!!!! I’d pay to take a class from you on characterization.

Doubling back on how sweet he is with the reader, whether they’re alone or not, but when he comes into the office everything about his demeanor is so soft and gentle and i think it juxtaposed the image of him covered in blood really really nicely.

“He…he’s walking himself to the hospital.”

I actually laughed so fucking hard at this

The bit about the bandaids was so thoughtful, i LOVED that

The idea of a big, powerful man that everyone is terrified of being so kind and gentle towards you is my absolute biggest weakness and this is definitely one of the best fics i’ve read that’s adopted that dynamic. You’re killing it, I can’t wait to read what else you come up with.

simplicity

out there they're afraid even of the killer's shadow, and here i reside in his heartbeat like a home

or; the big bad red hood has a soft spot only for you [3.4k]

jason todd x fem!reader; tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff; aggressive unwanted advances, implied roofie attempt, violence & blood, slut-shaming; Jason “my girl can wear whatever she wants I can fight” Todd; in da clerb, we all fam ⎯ based on this !

A humid, crowded, upscale club isn’t the most ideal way to spend your Friday night, and Jason knows this. Frankly, it’s not his either, but as the owner of the humid, crowded, upscale club, he had to make some appearances as his own business.

“It’s a night out,” he had said. “Let’s make the most of it.”

If you’re being honest, it’s also not the worst way to spend your Friday night. Not when Jason dressed up so deliciously, in a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. Not when he took you to a booth in the corner of the club and had them bring over your favorite drinks and snacks with the order to keep them coming. Not when you got to wear that cute little black dress that’s been hanging in your closet for months with your favorite strappy heels, the ones with ribbons that wrapped around your ankle and tied into a bow in the back. Not when Jason sat you on his lap and settled a large hand on your thigh, where it stayed the whole night.

All in all, you would say you’re making the most of it.

You’re sipping on your drink, chatting about something or the other with your boyfriend. He’s half listening, half drawing circles on your thigh and pressing kisses to your shoulder when one of the employees finds you. She’s freaking out because one of the performers hasn’t shown up, and there’s no one else to go in her place.

Jason huffs. He lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the seat. “I’m sorry, baby, I just gotta take care of this. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be here.” You smile over the rim of your glass.

He looks around for a moment, then gestures to someone across the room. One of the bouncers make their way to you.

“Just keep an eye out,” he tells him. “I don’t trust these entitled country club fuckers.”

He gives a curt nod. Jason leans in close, smirking, and says, “especially not when you look like that,” and gives you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd with the employee.

A couple minutes later, a crash snaps your attention towards the bar. A young, college-aged looking man is berating a waitress while a mess of shot glasses litter the floor around them. The waitress looks about to cry.

“Jesus Christ,” the bouncer says to himself. Then to you, “Gimme a second.”

You move to the edge of the booth to watch as he goes over and tries to pacify the man, but that only seems to make him angrier. He shoves the bouncer, yelling about “shitty customer service.”

You don’t get to see what happens next, though, because your field of vision is obscured by an enormous, very shiny, and very douchey silver belt buckle. You look up for its owner, and a greasy-looking, white-haired man looks down at you.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” A fake gold tooth catches the flashing lights and it glints in your eye. Uninvited, he slides into the booth across from you. He places a drink on the table, sliding it towards you. “You look thirsty. Got this for you.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got one.” You hold your own glass up.

He rolls his eyes. “Pretty thing like you should be takin’ advantage of all the free drinks you could be gettin’.” His smile sends a chill down your spine.

“Again, I’m fine,” you say, a little harsher. “My boyfriend has brought me plenty of drinks already.”

He laughs. It’s a high-pitched, scratchy, wheezing sound. Like a kazoo. “I don’t see this boyfriend of yours anywhere. He should know better than to leave you alone. I’d treat you much better than him.” His eyes travel down your neck and stay there. You stand from the booth and take a big step back. It’s not entirely personal; no matter how much of a threat he may be, Jason is a worse one. And if he’s still in this neighborhood, never mind this building, you fear for this man’s safety much more than your own. But the man follows, bringing the cup with him. “Come on, honey, it’s a compliment. Show a little thanks. I don’t bite.”

You don’t have to be the world’s finest detective to know that is most definitely a lie. Or to know to avoid that cup at all costs.

You could just rebuff him, walk away. But you’re willing to bet he’d just move on to the next woman. One who’s probably a little less sober, and a little less aware of her surroundings. You feign a stumble and knock the drink out of his grip. It tips toward him, drenching him with its contents. He chokes out a shocked gasp.

“Oops,” you deadpan, not at all trying to hide your indifference.

“You bitch,” he snarls. He lunges forward, snatching your wrist. You try to pull it back, but his grip is iron and bruising. “I was doing you a favor. Do you see anyone else here looking at you?”

You’re suddenly grateful you didn’t put up much of a fight after Jason came home from patrolling one night insisting he show you some self-defense moves. Far be it from you to cause a scene, but this guy isn’t giving you much choice. You employ the cardinal rule of women’s self-defense: go for the crotch. You shift your weight to your non-dominant side and launch your dominant knee right into his groin. The sharp metal edge of his belt buckle slices the skin just above your knee, but it shocks him enough to release your wrist and double over. The same leg used in your attack plants itself on the ground, and you use the momentum to pistol your opposite fist forward. It collides with his nose in a bone-cracking cross. Your stacks of studded rings didn’t do him any favors, either. He cries out in pain. His hands fly up to cover his nose, and the cup falls from his grasp and shatters on the floor, garnering the attention of some surrounding patrons. Blood seeps between his fingers.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” His tone drips with poison. He reaches into his coat pocket and brandishes a switchblade (because of course. You’re not surprised, though. It is Gotham). You look around in a panic, hoping to find Jason towering somewhere over the crowd. He’s not there. A few guys who work for him, though, have since taken notice of the commotion and are making their way towards you. You know they won’t make it in time. You weren’t scared a moment ago, but you definitely are now. Jason only briefly covered disarming techniques, and you didn’t have his practice to stay calm in situations like these. He steps closer, shoes crunching over the glass shards, and you step back. You’re backed into a corner, literally. Your back is pressed against the table. His eyes are glassy and void of color.

There is a resounding pop when the man’s knife-wielding hand is yanked to the side. Too fast for your brain to register, he thuds against the table next to you and the knife clatters to the ground. You look over and see Jason, one hand pressing his face into the table and the other twisting the man’s arm behind his back.

When his men finally reach you, Jason is seething. They look almost as afraid as the man, whose whimpers are muffled the pressure with which he’s flattened against the table.

“Who the fuck let this happen,” Jason glowers. Uncomfortable glances are shared between the men, all sharing the same sentiment; we fucked up big time.

Jason’s livid gaze flits back and forth among them. His veins flex against his forearms, rippling with effort. It looks like he’s putting all his strength into incapacitating the man, but you know better. He’s putting all his strength into restraint. The look on his face is cold and steely, with hardened, venom-green eyes and a clenched jaw. This isn’t Jason, the sweet boyfriend, or Jason the easy-going yet respected club proprietor. This is Jason the crime lord. Jason the anti-hero. This is the Red Hood. Who makes his own rules and kills anyone who breaks them. It’s a bit off-putting for you to see him like this; he’s never like this with you. He’s always just…Jason. Your Jason.

One of his men speaks up. “We’re sorry, Boss, we were keepin’ an eye like you asked, but there was trouble up at the bar.”

Jason scowls. “Trouble that required all of you?”

At their silence, he rolls his eyes. “Idiots,” he says under his breath. He jerks the man up to stand, the hand that was pressing him to the table now gripping the back of his shirt collar. “Someone take care of this.” He shoves the man in their direction. Hard. One of them catches him. “And for fuck’s sake, check him for anything else.”

While they’re busy patting him down, Jason turns back to you. You get whiplash from how quick his demeanor changes. Though still tense, the rigidity of his expression is long gone, replaced with tender concern.

“Are you okay?” His wide eyes scan you up and down, searching for any signs of injury. You manage a nod, still a bit stunned by his apparent shape-shifting abilities. “I’m so sorry, honey, this is my fault. It’s my fault for leaving you alone.” He pulls you close for a hug and kisses the top of your head, murmuring further apologies into your hair.

You pull back and cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay, Jay, I’m fine. I promise.” You lean in to kiss him, and feel his shoulders relax.

“Jesus, man, sorry! Wouldn’t’a come on so strong if I knew she was your whore. How much did ‘ya pay for her, anyway?” His voice rings from behind. Jason tenses up again. When he pulls back from you, he’s gone. He’s like Jekyll-turned-Hyde when the combatant that lay dormant inside him reassumes his body.

He turns around, but his large frame shields you from seeing the scene unfold. You place a hand on his arm, a silent message of support, and you can feel him vibrating with anger. His hand comes to rest over yours and give a reassuring squeeze.

“You know what?” You can’t be sure who he’s speaking to, but you can hear the eerie smile in his tone. “I’ll take care of this.” He faces you. “Can you give me a minute? Is that okay?” His voice is calm.

You know he would stay if you asked him to. And you never would, but you know he would go outside and kill that guy if you asked him to. And maybe you’re feeling a tad vindictive after the whole ordeal, so you just say, “Okay.”

He kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ll come find you,” he says, stepping away, and you nod.

“Ross,” he commands. “Take her to the office. Get her whatever she wants.” Jason then speaks to all of his men. His tone drips with disdain. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about who’s getting fired for this.” You catch some of his men flinch.

He grabs the man by the collar once again and stalks towards the exit, dragging him along.

You’ve met Ross once or twice, though never exchanged more than a few words. He smiles at you. It’s amiable, if not slightly nervous. You know where the office is, but you’re still grateful for the guide. The mesh of moving bodies under dim lights makes all four corners of the room look the same. With the adrenaline wearing off, your hands ache and you become acutely aware of the stinging shock that shoots up your knee when you walk on it but, persevering, you follow him to the back. He holds the door that reads ‘RESTRICTED - DO NOT ENTER’ open for you, and you smile in thanks.

Various employees, servers and performers alike, mill about in the back hallways. You know some of them, having met in passing during other visits to the club, and offer polite greetings as you walk by. When you arrive at Jason’s office, Ross unlocks the door for you and you step inside.

It’s a nice office, noticeably homier than it was when you and Jason met. The first time he brought you back here it was just a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. You perched yourself on his desk while he sat in his chair and you teased him for not having a place for guests to sit, saying something about ‘men and their awful interior designing skills.’

You find a seat on said couch and try to get comfortable despite your protesting joints. From here you can spot a framed photo on Jason’s desk; the two of you smiling while bathing a shelter dog at the Wayne Animal Sanctuary. But while you smile at the camera, his gaze is trained on you.

Ross stands in the doorway, stoic as a bodyguard should be. “Do you need anything?” He asks you.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“‘Course. I’ll be outside. Just yell if you need anything.” He moves to exit, but pauses. “Look,” he says, “We’re all really sorry about what happened. It was our fault. You have every right to hate us.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. “God knows the boss does.”

You purse your lips, unsure how to respond. Technically Jason did instruct them not to leave you alone. But really, the only person at fault is that horrible man, and he was currently getting what he deserved.

“It’s okay, Ross,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t blame you. And Jason’s not gonna fire any of you, okay? I won’t let him.”

He exhales. “Okay, you—yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He loiters awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. “Listen, Todd’s always been a great boss. But it’s no joke when it comes to you. Don’t know exactly what happened, but after meeting you, he’s just…different. Not sure if I believe it, but after the first time you were here, one of the bartenders swears they heard him whistling. Anyway, just mean to say…we’re glad he has you.”

His sincerity warms your heart. You thank him, and he assumes his post outside, closing the door.

At last in decent lighting, you take the time to examine yourself. Your knee, knuckles, and wrist are splotchy with bruises. A small scrape rests just above your knee from you were scratched. There’s a splattering of blood on your knuckles and on the rings you’re wearing. You grimace, the reality of what just happened settling in. Someone pulled a knife on you. If Jason hadn’t been there…the thought leaves you cold.

There’s voices on the other side of the door, then receding footsteps. After a few seconds, a knock.

“Baby? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you call out. Jason enters, locking the door behind him. There’s some smatterings of blood on his hands and face, and he’s holding a first aid kit. Your immediate instinct is that he’s the one who needs first aid.

“Are you okay?” You ask as he kneels on the floor in front of you. “Did he hurt you?”

Jason tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrow raised. Just like that, The Red Hood is gone. He’s Jason again. He speaks softly, with a hint of his usual boyish charm. “Should I be insulted by you asking me that?” He picks up your un-injured leg and places the foot on his thigh, beginning to unravel the ribbon wrapped around your ankle. He removes the shoe and places it to the side, then repeats with your other foot. But when he moves it, your knee twitches and you wince. He frowns, but doesn’t say anything. He sees the way your eyes travel between all the spots of blood. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, none of it’s mine.”

You sigh in relief. “You didn’t…kill him, did you?”

He chuckles, lightly massaging your foot. “Nah…did you want me to? ‘Cause I can still—”

“No.”

He smirks at you, before leaning down to press a kiss to your bruised knee. It’s so gentle, so loving, it completely contradicts the bloodstains that adorn him. As his hands move up to your calf, your hand moves to his hair, fingers threading through the white streaks and pushing them back so you can get a better view of his eyes. They’re a silky teal, bordering on sea green. They remind you of lake trips in the summer, and ice skating during the holidays.

“How bad is he? Like, on scale of ‘he can walk it off’ to ‘he needs to go to the hospital.’”

Jason pauses his movements, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“He…he’s walking himself to the hospital.”

There’s not much you can say to that. After all, you gave him to okay to go fuck that guy up.

From the first aid kit, he retrieves a box of Band-Aids. They’re the children’s ones, decorated with cartoons and various characters. A specific one catches your eye, and you pick it out of the carton.

“Robin? Really?”

Jason breathes out a small laugh. “One of my guys’ daughter loves him.” He unwraps the bandage and sticks it over the scratch. You admire the small red plaster. Jason traces a finger over the emblem in the center, a black and yellow ‘R’.

He moves from your leg to your hand, gingerly laying it in his palm. One by one he slides each of your rings off. They’re not particularly special, but you still like them and you try to protest when he tosses them in the trash. He’s quick to assuage you with promises to buy you new ones with, hopefully, less blood.

"Did you see how good I got him?" You suddenly feel shy asking such a question. Like a child seeking validation.

"I did see," Jason says. And there's not a hint of condescension in his tone. "I'm proud of you. You remembered what I taught you."

You beam under his pride.

He uses a sanitizing wipe to remove the droplets of blood from your knuckles, kissing each one along the way. He reaches your wrist last. There’s a purple hand-shaped mark that wraps around it, and he stares at it. You can see his thoughts race at sixty miles an hour, and you know he’s beating himself up about it.

“Hey.” The hand in his hair moves to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I promise. I love you.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry.” He places gentle kisses on the purple skin. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He moves to the scratch above your knee, pressing more kisses, repeating the words like a prayer. Your hand is still enclosed in his hands, and his cool fingers soothe the throbbing swell. You pull his head up, holding his chin in your fingertips. His eyes close as he soaks in your warm touch.

You reach for another wipe and begin wiping the blood from his face. Some of it has dried, so you press the wipe a little harder, and blood rushes to his cheeks to give him an adorable flush. You repeat the process on his hands. Blood erased and wipes discarded, you pull him up to the couch to lie down with you. He stretches out, so large that his feet hang over the armrest. You snuggle up to his side and your head rests on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. It’s surreal, how utterly soft he is, and just for you. How no one else gets to see him like this. He goes out at night, a fighter, crusader, a deadly threat. And then he comes home to sleep in your arms. In your bed.

You place your hand against his chest, right over his heart to feel it thrum beneath your palm. It beats simple and steady, and just for you.

am i the only one who likes the whole jason owning the iceberg lounge storyline (aside from the whole penguin prisoner thing but i only write according to canon that i like and leave out the things i don't! whoops🤷‍♀️);

the feminine urge to write more fics that take place within the universe of this one...

divider is from here

#jason ❤️

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