#these two will never not be protective of each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neellscapsule · 2 days ago

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My Heart — Part Nine . . . The End.

summary | your family realizes how much they have missed. the problem is that you are a grown up by now, and terrible hurt by their neglect.

pairing | platonic yandere batfam x batsis!neglected!reader. conner kent x reader.

warnings / tags | angst, hurt/comfort, y/n is mentioned as a female, trauma, family issues, mostly trust and daddy issues. they all love each other (PLATONICALLY) they just don't know how to feel it and express it correctly.

word count | 8k

authors note | hi there!! english is not my first languaje so there might be some mistakes, or not, it can depend :) please vote <3 dick is 28. jason is 23. reader will be 22 in a few months. cass is 21. tim is 20. duke is 18. damian is 13. conner looks 22 as well.

taglist | @cebrospudipudi @jjoppees @corvoqueen @nirvanaxx1942 @lilyalone @aixaingela @lettucel0ver @time-shardz @pix-stuff @galaxypurplerose @cupid73 @theproblemisthattimnotfictional @vanessa-boo @timebomb1101 @chemicalwindexbottle @chiizuluvr @ihavenomuse @mat5u0 @thismessyshe @lovebug-apple @myjumper @angwlart @esposadomd @nisarelle @mrmacwaffles @mazixxss @ememgl @naomi-xxi @bbmgirll @ash0-0ley @rowan-no-rizzz @hearts4mica @sillyheartmoonnyx @crumbs-and-covers @nininehaaa @ironsaladwitch @c4xcocoa @keyllsbk @welpthisisboring @redkarmakai @yuyuzi-ling @91-kya @mat5u0 @nymphzy0 @jeshomie @keysmashstuff @imsomniaccorner @rowan-no-rizzz @xoxoangellll @oliviaewl @dandelion-delusion @wendee-go @funtimekoda14 @serendippindots @tweetybomb @wejwjjwe @hikary-jaeger @thatbitchanna27 @daimond6166

previous.

You return to New York with a retinue at your back—a parade of shadows you didn’t expect to follow you this far. It’s supposed to be your space, your life, your carefully constructed distance, but now it feels like the Wayne family is pouring through the cracks you didn’t realize you’d left open.

Your family is here.

Bruce had come, all sharp lines and heavier silences than you remembered. Dick had smiled too wide, tried too hard to fill every room with light, masking the shadows that lived under his eyes. Jason had hovered, stubborn and protective, and Tim… well, Tim still looked at you like you’d committed treason by breathing the same air as his best friend. Barbara, Cass, Duke, Steph—they’d all been there, crowding your doorstep, pushing inside, unraveling your sanctuary with the sheer force of their presence.

And Damian…

Damian had declared—publicly, firmly—that he was staying. His room, his bed, his claim. You hadn’t even tried to argue. Your apartment wasn’t exactly sprawling, but he was small enough to wedge himself into your world without breaking too much of it. And maybe—maybe—a part of you didn’t hate the idea.

The residence feels different now.

It’s still yours—the same chipped paint on the edges of the window frames, the same haphazard collection of canvases stacked against the walls, the same smell of turpentine and coffee and the faintest trace of jasmine from the old diffuser a friend brought you months ago—but it isn’t quiet anymore. Not entirely.

But now, for the first time since you landed back in New York, you’re alone.

It feels wrong.

The studio is quiet. The soft hum of the radiator rattling through the old pipes, the faint noise of cars several stories down, but no voices, no questions, no lingering, overbearing gaze pressing into your spine.

Your hands shake a little when you set the canvas upright.

You paint. You don’t think—you never think when it’s like this. You drag the colors across the surface with sharp, desperate movements.

One.

The brush moves almost without your conscious input. Long, messy strokes. Anger simmering beneath your skin, spilling onto the canvas in shades of red and gray. The lines are harsh, uneven, frayed at the edges. It looks like tension incarnate.

Two.

Blues now. Icy, muted. The shape of absence. The shape of your father’s empty chair at every school event. The shadow of missed calls. The echo of unopened letters. The unsent postcards you used to keep in a drawer, waiting for a reply that never came.

Three.

The colors shift. Something warmer. The brush slows. Your breathing evens out, just a little. It’s strange — your chest still aches, but the anger, the twisting, bitter knot, starts unraveling. Because they’re here. Finally. Because after all the years of feeling like a forgotten afterthought in a mansion of legends, they showed up.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

Four.

You’re not sure what you’re painting anymore. A house? A cage? Maybe both. The walls are crooked, the windows sealed. There’s no door.

Five.

You taste salt. You don’t remember crying. It’s just there now, the tears slipping down your chin, your mouth pressed in a line so tight you think it might splinter. The colors bleed into each other. Your hands shake. You keep going.

And by the sixth—you break.

Your fingers slip from the brush. You stagger back, chest heaving, the edges of the room blurring faintly.

Water. You need water.

The sink’s old, the faucet creaking as you twist it on, but the water’s cold and biting against your wrists. You lean on the counter, palms flat, breathing hard. The mirror above the sink reflects your face: flushed, tired, eyes wide and lost in a way that shouldn’t belong to you—not anymore. Not after everything.

But it’s there. It’s still there.

You stare at yourself like you’re a stranger. Maybe you are.

It’s… suffocating, in a way. The weight of them. The knowledge that they’re finally here, finally orbiting your world the way you’ve begged—screamed, cried—for them to do for years. You’ve sent invitations. Letters. Paintings, poems, melodies scribbled into the margins of postcards. You’ve watched the mailbox stay empty. You’ve watched birthdays and openings and every quiet milestone pass with nothing but silence from Gotham.

And now? Now they crowd you. They stake claims. They act like they belong here, as if they never missed a single moment.

You grip the counter, knuckles pale. Your vision prickles at the edges.

It feels like drowning in syrup. Sweet, warm, sticky nostalgia choking your lungs. You’ve spent so long angry—so long building walls and spitting venom through cracked teeth—that you don’t know how to breathe with the weight of their love pressing into your ribs.

They love you. In their twisted, broken way. It doesn’t erase the neglect. It doesn’t fill the years of absence. But it’s there. Tangled in Jason’s scowls, in Dick’s forced brightness, in Damian’s possessive cling, in Bruce’s silence.

You’ve finally gotten what you wanted. And you don’t know what the hell to do with it.

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose, shoulders tight. The studio smells like paint thinner and frustration. You want to rage—to rip the canvas apart, to shout, to throw every brush across the room—but you don’t. You can’t.

You’ve mastered the art of being quiet, of painting your grief into soft colors and wide-eyed portraits. You don’t know how to scream anymore. You barely know how to breathe.

The water runs until it goes cold.

You dry your hands.

You look at the sixth painting.

And you wonder—bitter, hopeful, exhausted—if any of this will ever be enough.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whisper to no one, voice cracking, raw.

Because it is. And it isn’t.

It feels like finally touching the sun, only to blister your skin in the process.

The anger, the sadness, the strange, hollow fullness of it all churns inside you like a storm that doesn’t know where to settle. You’ve dreamt of this — having them here, the weight of their presence anchoring you — and now that you do, the reality feels jagged. Messy. Complicated.

Your family is here.

You should feel joy, shouldn’t you? Shouldn’t you be grateful? Shouldn’t this be the moment where everything falls into place, where the gnawing ache finally quiets?

But it isn’t.

Instead, it’s like swallowing glass.

A knock rattles the door. You freeze, shoulders tensing, scrubbing your face quickly.

Damian’s voice filters through, flat and unimpressed. “You’ve been in there for two hours.”

You blink. Two hours? Already?

“I’m fine,” you call back, voice rough.

There’s a pause. Then, quieter: “We’re getting dinner. Father insists you come.”

Of course he does. Bruce Wayne, master of subtle emotional entrapment.

You drag a hand through your hair, sighing. “Give me five minutes.”

Silence. Then: “Five minutes.”

His footsteps retreat. You sit there for a moment longer, staring at the canvases. They stare back — ugly, beautiful, raw. A mirror to the mess inside you.

You think about all those years. The birthdays with no cake. The phone that never rang. The Gotham skyline, distant and untouchable.

And now? They’re here. Loud, chaotic, flawed — but here.

Your chest tightens. You want to scream. You want to laugh. You want to paint a thousand more canvases just to claw this feeling out of your ribs.

Instead, you stand.

You rinse your hands, wipe your face, and step out of the sanctuary.

The apartment feels different now. The faint murmur of your brothers’ voices. The weight of Bruce’s presence. The quiet hum of family — imperfect, complicated, but here.

It terrifies you.

And, for the first time in years, it makes you feel whole.

You don't go to them at first. It takes one glance at your father to know that the family is going to a luxurious place where you have to dress up, and while you don't consider yourself a fashion icon, you surely think a shirt with paint stains and loose pants are not something to go out in New York.

You linger by the door to your room, peeking out just enough to catch the full, inconvenient sight of Bruce Wayne in a black tailored suit, perfectly pressed shirt, silver cufflinks, and that unnerving, quiet authority he carries like a second skin. Behind him, Tim adjusts his tie in the mirror by the entryway, Jason is tugging on a dark jacket that looks expensive enough to pay your rent twice over, and Damian—well, Damian looks like he just walked out of a catalogue shoot for "dangerous rich heir with a sharp jawline and an even sharper stare."

This isn’t a pizza joint down the block. It isn’t one of your cheap, corner diners that smells like grease and broken dreams. No. This is a Wayne dinner. Which means luxury. Which means cameras outside. Which means you need to look presentable — or at least, presentable enough not to embarrass the empire of silence and meticulous appearances your father has spent a lifetime building.

You pull back into your room like you've been burned.

There’s no universe where you show up to that dinner looking like you’ve been trapped in a studio for three days straight—which, to be fair, you practically have been.

You glance down at your clothes: oversized paint-stained t-shirt that was probably black once, now an abstract explosion of reds, greens, and accidental smears of white acrylic. Your loose pants are comfortable, sure, but the splatters of cerulean blue on the thigh definitely ruin the "effortless New York chic" vibe.

“Absolutely not,” you mutter to yourself.

You sigh, stretching your arms overhead, feeling the stiffness of hours spent painting settle in your muscles. You deserve this. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you rummage through the wardrobe, pulling out the one outfit you packed that could pass as "luxurious dinner in the city" appropriate.

The dress is simple but elegant—a deep, dark shade of emerald that catches the light just right. It’s sleeveless, with a subtle neckline, the fabric smooth and cool against your skin. You pair it with black heels, a form of torture you endure for the sake of family theatrics, and a pearl necklace that glimmers faintly when it catches the light.

You glance at yourself in the mirror. For a moment, you don’t even recognize the person staring back—the subtle shimmer on your eyelids, the dark green fabric draped over your frame, the quiet strength in your posture. You look…pretty. Presentable. Maybe even like you belong in the Wayne family, if you squint.

But your eyes—they’re still yours. Still carrying the wary, restless gleam of someone not entirely sure where they fit in this puzzle.

Or where they will end.

The car downstairs is sleek, black, tinted. Of course it is. You pile in, shoulders pressed against unfamiliar silk and wool and expensive perfume. The city bleeds past the windows — glittering, sharp, alive. You watch it, nerves coiling under your ribs.

The restaurant is nestled in the Upper East Side, discreet and dripping in wealth. The kind of place with no visible menu, where reservations are whispered and last names open doors. You’ve passed by it before — always at a distance, head down, pretending it wasn’t built for people like you.

People like you, born in golden cribs.

Funny how quickly that changes.

The doorman greets your father by name. You’re ushered inside, through tall glass doors and into a space that looks more like an art exhibit than a restaurant. Minimalist, clean lines, soft gold lighting, tables spaced far apart. Privacy, wealth, exclusivity — it drips from the walls.

You’re hyper-aware of the eyes. Not many, but enough. People recognize Bruce Wayne. They recognize them. You feel them linger on you, curious, calculating.

The host — polished and professional — leads you to a private table near the window, the skyline glittering like broken diamonds beyond the glass.

Jason follows, tall and unfairly smug, his tie loosened just enough to piss off Bruce but still pass inspection. He bumps his shoulder lightly into yours as you fall into step beside him.

“Bet you never thought we’d all sit down for dinner without breaking something,” he mutters, smirking.

“I still don’t think that,” you shoot back.

Barbara, elegant and sharp, catches up on Jason’s other side, eyes sparkling behind her glasses. “It’s a fifty-fifty shot, honestly,” she says, adjusting her purse under her arm. “But hey, at least we’ll look good doing it.”

You settle into your chair, Damian to your right, Jason to your left. Dick, Barbara, Duke, Tim — all scattering around the table. Steph immediately starts rearranging silverware, much to Cass’s amusement.

Conversations spark around you — casual, easy. Dick is recounting some story about Blüdhaven. Tim and Steph bicker, Duke laughs. It should feel suffocating. And maybe it does, a little. But there’s a strange fullness, too.

“Are we… allowed to be here?” you ask under your breath, unable to stop yourself.

Jason snorts. “Allowed? Half the people in this room probably owe Bruce money.”

Damian glares at him. “We own this place.”

Steph raises her hand. “Translation: eat whatever you want. Bruce already paid for it.”

The menus arrive — sleek, heavy things with embossed gold lettering. The wine list alone is thicker than some of the novels on your bookshelf. You flip through it, searching for a wine sweet enough to dull your feelings.

Jason leans into your ear. “They’ve got some ridiculous Wagyu dish that costs more than Dick’s first car.”

Dick raises his glass across the table, his cheeks flushed from laughter and wine. “Worth every penny of that car, by the way.”

Damian’s already calling over the sommelier with the confidence of a middle-aged divorcee.

“Are you going to order something you can’t pronounce?” Jason asks, his right arm extended to let his hand rest on your seat.

“I can pronounce it,” Damian snaps. “You just lack culture.”

Jason sips from his water glass like it’s liquor. “You think ketchup is spicy.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “I was eight.”

“You’re still eight.”

“I’m thirteen.”

“Exactly.”

You lean back, watching the argument spiral with a kind of morbid amusement. The way Damian squares his shoulders. The way Jason pokes just enough to rile him without getting kicked. It’s like watching a very sophisticated zoo exhibit. Tim glances over and grins. “Ten bucks says Damian tries to stab him with a steak knife before dessert.”

“Twenty says Jason lets him,” Duke mutters.

“I heard that,” Bruce says calmly. No one responds. Because he did.

The appetizers come out on white plates with intricate garnishes. There are things you recognize and things you’re pretty sure are just edible art. Cass pokes at a miniature beet flower with the tip of her fork. Steph sighs dramatically. “If I wanted to eat flowers, I’d go graze in Central Park.”

“It’s actually delicious,” Cass says, and you pause — not at the words, but at the softness of her voice. The way she nudges the plate toward you, encouraging. “Try it.”

You do. And it is good. Sweet and sharp and unexpectedly real.

Somewhere between the soup course and the main, Dick starts talking about a circus memory. About a winter night, frost in the air and sawdust in his lungs, and the way the lights looked from the trapeze. Everyone quiets to listen. Even Damian.

You watch your father across the table. His profile is clean, his jaw tense, but his eyes are soft. He’s not interrupting. He’s not checking his watch. He’s listening.

You remember being seven and crawling into his lap while Alfred read bedtime stories. You remember painting his nails with your glitter polish while he took a call. You remember birthday mornings where he made pancakes — badly — and let you eat as many as you wanted.

You remember before.

Before things got harder. Before Gotham swallowed everything soft. Before the mission became more important than the girl who used to beg him to braid her hair.

You shake the thought off. Focus on now.

Now, Bruce is nodding. Now, Jason is cracking a joke about elephants. Now, Cass is smiling at something Barbara murmured. Now, you are here.

The main course arrives in a flurry of waitstaff and cloche lids. Your duck is perfect. Crispy skin, delicate sauce. Jason steals a bite without asking.

“Hey—”

“You weren’t eating it.”

“I was talking.”

“Exactly.”

You flick a piece of arugula at him. It lands in his lap. He looks offended, like you’ve just insulted his mother.

Bruce raises a brow. “Do I need to separate you two?”

Jason leans back. “Nah, she’ll behave. She knows I’m the favorite.”

You scoff. “Of who? The IRS?”

“Of Alfred. Duh.”

Everyone makes some kind of noise at that. Groans, laughs, one or two absolutely nots. You catch Duke giving you a commiserating nod. Across the table, Barbara’s smile is quiet but proud. Like she’s watching something finally click into place.

Dessert is a whole production. Gold-dusted mousse, handmade truffles, chocolate domes that melt when sauce is poured over them. Damian tries to pretend he’s too mature to enjoy it, but the way he devours his lavender macaron cake says otherwise. You and Steph share a lemon tart. Cass eats two éclairs and looks completely innocent about it.

The conversation shifts. From mission debriefs to movie nights. From patrol schedules to “Remember when Alfred caught Tim sleepwalking in full armor?”

Tim groans. “That only happened once.”

“Twice,” Dick corrects.

“Three times,” Bruce says, deadpan. Everyone stares.

He sips his espresso. “Alfred keeps notes.”

It shouldn’t work, all of this. All these jagged edges, all these broken pieces. You don’t fit perfectly. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But there’s space at the table. There’s warmth in the noise. There’s a hand on your chair, a smirk at your side, a bite of food shared over low laughter.

You glance out at the skyline. At Gotham stretched out in stars and shadows. At the glittering mess of it all.

Jason bumps your shoulder again. “You okay?”

You look at him. At all of them. At this ridiculous, chaotic, absurd family.

“Yeah,” you say. And mean it. “I’m okay.”

You are so not okay.

You stare into the mirror, not recognizing your own eyes. They're wide. Haunted. Somewhere between panic and paralysis. You blink twice, trying to center yourself. Behind you, the muffled murmurs of the crowd seep through the greenroom walls like an eerie tide swelling against your spine.

Ms. Morley stands beside you, her clipboard hugged tightly to her chest like a life raft. Her perfectly ironed suit doesn’t wrinkle even as she leans in, trying not to break her usual mask of corporate calm. “You don’t have to be perfect,” she says softly, but with urgency, like she’s rehearsed this with other artists before you. “You just need to tell them the truth. Why you made this work. What it means to you.”

You inhale through your nose. Exhale through your mouth. Repeat. You try to picture the pieces out there, scattered through the gallery like memories cast in bronze and color. Some are towering metal sculptures that twist into impossible, aching forms. Others are soft pastel sketches on raw canvas, lines so light they look like they’re breathing. All of them yours.

Your name is on the walls. Your name is on the brochure. Your name is on everyone’s lips tonight. It terrifies you.

You glance at her face, that tired but unshakable expression she always wears when she’s protecting you from something — usually yourself. Her heels click closer on the concrete floor, and she exhales as if your nerves are contagious.

“Is it the speech? Or the crowd? Or the fact your entire goddamn family is in there like a royal tribunal?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Yes,” you say simply.

“Okay. Great. That narrows it down.”

Ms. Morley softens, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Hey. You’ve done the work. You bled on these canvases. You rebuilt that damn bust five times because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You—”

You look at her with red-rimmed eyes, but she doesn’t let you crumble.

“You did it anyway,” she finishes. “So tonight, you talk. Then you breathe.”

You nod.

Ms. Morley nods, stepping aside as the assistant with the earpiece gives her a thumbs-up from the door. She holds out the small notecard with your speech on it. You don’t take it.

“I’ve got it memorized,” you say, although your voice sounds suspiciously like a lie.

She smiles faintly. “That’s my terrified genius.”

Showtime.

The hallway to the stage is narrow, like the throat of something ancient and hungry. Every step echoes. You wish you could vanish into one of your paintings. That oil-slick sky in the corner piece, the one where the child floats on a sea of stars. That’s where you’d go. That’s where you’re safe.

But instead, you walk.

The gallery lights dim slightly, a signal. The soft instrumental music hushes. A spotlight blooms on the small, elevated stage tucked into the main hall. It’s intimate, all black velvet and steel, with one slender microphone at the center. The crowd hushes in an elegant ripple of silk and murmurs. Champagne flutes are lowered. Heads turn. All eyes fall on you.

You step into the light.

There are hundreds of them. Maybe more. Gotham’s elite, with their practiced poise and pearl necklaces. A few familiar faces from the art world—critics, curators, buyers. Journalists with pens poised. You even catch sight of Lucius Fox in the back, nodding encouragingly. And near the middle, arms crossed, sharply dressed, is Bruce Wayne himself, your father.

He doesn’t smile. He watches.

Beside him, Jason leans on the back wall, arms crossed, but he’s there, and if he didn't want to be, he wouldn't. Tim’s already recording. Damian’s fidgeting with something in his hands, probably a small blade. And Dick... Dick gives you the smallest thumbs-up imaginable. It’s not much, but it helps. They’re here. All of them. You didn’t even ask them to come.

And behind them, just at the edge of the crowd, hands clasped behind his back, is Alfred.

Your breath catches.

The old butler stands straight, like he always does. His eyes find yours through the haze and lights. You feel the weight of everything about to come out of your mouth, and that look—steady, proud, knowing—grounds you.

You step up to the mic.

Silence.

“Hi,” you begin, and your voice trembles. You clear your throat. “I… I’m not used to speaking like this. Not in front of so many people. Not about this.”

There’s a quiet chuckle in the crowd. You grip the sides of the podium tighter.

“I started working on this collection two years ago. At the time, I didn’t know it was a collection. I was just making pieces to survive. Some of you might know what that’s like. When things happen and you can’t process them through words, so you make something instead. You bleed it out in color or metal or ink.”

You pause, forcing your hands to loosen their grip.

“There are pieces in here that I hope no one ever fully understands. Because they’re not made to be understood. They’re made to be felt. They’re… moments. Snapshots of grief. Of joy. Of confusion. Of rage. Sometimes, of love. Not always the soft kind. I didn’t make these pieces to be pretty. I made them to be true. And truth isn’t always clean.”

A murmur. Someone near the front tilts their head.

“I didn’t grow up with a paintbrush in my hand,” you continue. “I wasn’t supposed to be an artist. I wasn’t supposed to be… anything, really. But life has a funny way of breaking you down until you have no choice but to rebuild yourself with whatever tools you’ve got.”

You find Bruce’s gaze again. He doesn’t flinch.

“I rebuilt with this. Every brushstroke is a piece of me I didn’t know I still had. Every sculpture is a scream I couldn’t say out loud. Every canvas holds a silence I had to sit with. You don’t need to know the stories behind each one. You might find your own in them. That’s the beauty of art. It transforms pain. It doesn't fix it, but it reshapes it into something survivable.”

You see someone wipe a tear in the back. You don’t let yourself follow their example.

“I want to thank my manager, Ms. Morley,” you say, forcing a smile in her direction. She beams like it’s lighting her from within. “She took a chance on me when all I had was a half-burned sketchbook and a stubborn refusal to give up.”

A laugh ripples through the audience. Ms. Morley shakes her head, pretending to scold you.

“And finally,” you say, voice lower now, almost a whisper. “I want to thank the man who taught me how to polish silver without leaving fingerprints. Who told me that tea must steep with patience. Who ironed my first suit for my first failed gallery showing. Who never once let me forget that grace is not weakness, and kindness is not naïve.”

You lock eyes with Alfred.

“He taught me that art doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful. And that silence, when offered with love, can speak louder than any applause.”

Alfred doesn’t move. But you see the smallest motion at the corner of his mouth. A twitch. A smile, just for you.

You inhale sharply and smile, stepping back.

“Thank you for coming. I hope… I hope you see something tonight that makes you feel less alone.”

Applause. First polite. Then full-bodied. The room swells with it.

You bow your head, retreating from the mic. Ms. Morley catches you by the arm the moment you step offstage.

“You did it,” she whispers.

“I didn’t cry,” you whisper back, almost laughing.

“Barely.”

The next hour passes in a golden blur. People approach. Ask questions. Compliment your work. Some ask about the price of certain pieces. You answer as best as you can, though you feel untethered, like you’re floating through the room on some thread of adrenaline and disbelief.

You walk past your sculpture titled Inheritance—a cold, jagged structure with warm lights blooming inside it like something trying to survive. You pass your triptych Shadowplay, a series of paintings in black and crimson, detailing a figure growing through anguish.

People keep talking. You nod, you smile, you breathe.

And then, when the crowd parts just right, you find yourself face-to-face with Alfred.

“Hey,” you say, softly.

He bows slightly. “You did well, Master Y/N.”

“Did I?”

He lifts his brow. “You moved the room. That is more than well.”

“I was scared.”

“Good. It means it mattered.”

You smile, sudden and unguarded.

“I made a piece for you,” you admit. “It’s not labeled. But it’s yours. It’s the one tucked into the corner. The small oil canvas. The window with the light coming through.”

He doesn’t react much. But he knows exactly which one you mean.

“I thought I recognized the wallpaper,” he murmurs.

You laugh, finally letting the sound out.

And for a moment, just a moment, the noise of the crowd fades. The gallery disappears. You’re not the artist with critics at your door. You’re not the speaker who survived the spotlight. You’re just you, standing with the man who taught you how to be.

And that—more than the applause, more than the art—is what finally, truly makes you okay.

Then, just like that, the rest of your world pours in.

First is Dick, all bright smile and chest-high posture, practically beaming like he’s hosting you at the ball of the century.

“Birdie!” His voice is drowned in joy, but you catch every note. He sweeps you into a hug that cradles you against his chest, warm and protective. You laugh into his jacket.

“You were unbelievable,” he says. “Literally took my breath away.”

You pat his back. “You think so?”

He nods, eyes shining. “I’ve never been prouder.”

Then Jason slips in, all nonchalance and swagger, but his arm loops around your waist before you can stop him. His breath warms your ear.

“Nicely done, sis,” he murmurs sharply, but pride pulses in his tone like an electric current. He’s too cool to gush, but you feel it in his grip. “Damn good.”

Next is Barbara—your sister in every way but blood—and she hugs you tight, chin on your shoulder. She sniffs lightly, steadying you with her strength.

“You were radiant,” she says in that soft, steady voice that’s held you through data crashes and heartaches alike. “True to yourself. It showed.”

Then Cass stands beside her, quiet and intense, eyes scanning every detail—your smile lines, your bright eyes. She offers a quiet nod, fingers brushing yours gently, and then she lifts your hand to her lips.

Duke trails behind Steph, energetic and wide-eyed. He pulls you aside. “You have, like, a literal vision,” he gushes. “The lighting, the textures—your sculptures, your paintings—they breathe. They breathe you.”

You let yourself smile at him, and then Tim’s voice joins the fray. “So, uh… are we allowed to buy stuff, or is it all being reserved by billionaires and snobby curators?”

“Only if you pay double,” you quip.

“Triple if you ask dumb questions,” Steph adds, poking her head around his shoulder. Her ponytail is bright, bouncing, as she grins and pulls you into a side hug. “Your stuff’s gorgeous, by the way. Like, stupid gorgeous. I almost cried. And I never cry at art.”

You cried at Up.”

“That was different! That dog could talk!”

And then—finally, inevitably—Damian.

He stands a few feet behind the others, arms crossed, dressed to the nines in a blazer he clearly didn’t pick out himself. His expression is unreadable, but his jaw is tight. His brows are low.

“Tt. Your oil technique is subpar in areas, but the emotional structure of your visual narrative is…” He looks away, scowls. “Acceptable. Also, I counted seven cats hidden across your work.”

You blink. Then you grin.

“I’ll take it.”

“Don’t get used to compliments,” he mutters. But his eyes flicker to you again, and there’s something soft beneath all that prickly pride.

He showed up. They all did.

And it hits you.

They showed up.

Not as soldiers. Not as vigilantes. Not even as shadows lurking behind glass and secrets. They came as your family.

You’re not sure when your eyes start to sting, but Barbara notices first.

“Hey, hey—don’t ruin your eyeliner,” she murmurs, reaching for a napkin from the table.

“It’s waterproof,” you manage. “Mostly.”

Dick wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You made it. You did it.”

Jason leans in. “And you didn’t throw up on anyone. That’s what we call a full win.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a weight to their presence you didn’t realize you’d needed. They don’t fix the ache in your ribs. They don’t erase the doubt still whispering from the corners of the gallery. But they anchor you. And right now, that’s more than enough.

Steph loops her arm through yours and starts pulling you toward one of the exhibits.

“Okay, walk me through it. I want the full tour. From the artist herself.”

You hesitate. “I didn’t— I wasn’t planning on—”

“Y/N,” Dick says. “We all came for you. Not just the art.”

You bite your lip. The words stick in your throat. But you nod.

And so you begin.

You take them through the first gallery wall. You describe the piece you did the summer after the accident. The one with the bent metal and the streaks of crimson in the background that you swore weren’t blood, even though they were. Jason stands in front of it a long time.

You show them the portrait of the fire escape in Gotham Heights. The one you slept on after a fight with Bruce. The one where the city looks more alive than you did that night. Tim notices the crack in the glass that you left in on purpose. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he knows why it’s there.

You walk them to the centerpiece. The sculpture in the center of the gallery, made from melted car parts and broken glass and concrete. It’s ugly. Raw. Loud. And it pulses with something inside you that never healed quite right.

Cass kneels beside it, eyes tracing every angle. When she looks up at you, there are no words. Just understanding.

And finally, you bring them to the corner.

The painting. Alfred’s painting.

It’s small. Quiet. A single window, streaked with light. The wallpaper is faded. The dust motes are brushed in with silver.

“It’s the study,” Barbara breathes.

You nod.

No one touches it.

No one needs to.

“I didn’t know where I belonged,” you say, voice soft, “so I painted the only place I ever felt safe.”

No one says anything.

Until Steph—light, gentle—says, “You belong here. With us. You always have.”

You look down.

It’s hard to believe. Still. Even after everything.

But maybe… maybe the cracks are where the light gets in.

Dick nudges you. “You hungry? Because I saw them setting up trays in the back and I swear I smelled those little spinach puffs you like.”

You blink, startled. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” he says, grinning. “I’m observant. It’s my whole thing.”

Jason drapes an arm over your shoulders. “C’mon, baby bird. Let’s get you a puff pastry and a drink before you pass out from all this emotional vulnerability.”

You groan. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he says, smug, “here I am. Still your favorite.”

“You’re not even in my top three.”

He is. You just don't say it to him because you know how smug he can get.

The gallery has mostly cleared out now, still as full as before, though. The buzz has quieted into a low hum. Someone has started loading up wine glasses into crates near the back, and the lights are softer now—dimmed just enough that the whole space feels less like a spotlight and more like a memory.

You’re still buzzing, the adrenaline not fully gone, but dulled. Your head feels full and quiet at the same time, your body just beginning to register the weight of the day, the night, the entire everything of it.

Jason’s hand slips off your shoulder when Steph pulls him away, teasing him about a bet she made with Duke over how long he’d last in a “fancy adult gallery space without breaking something or someone.” He kisses the side of your head anyway, mumbles something about bribery with sugar, and leaves you standing in the soft hush of the nearly-empty room.

You smile weakly at their bickering. But it doesn’t last.

Because that’s when you see him. Finally. Standing alone, in the arch of the far hallway. His silhouette sharp and familiar and… immovable. Bruce.

He’s half in shadow, watching you the way he watches rooftops—like he’s waiting for something to fall. Like he’s bracing for the worst, even now. Even here.

He hasn’t approached. Not once during the entire event. You noticed. Of course you did. You always notice. And now, with most of the audience moving around and the family momentarily distracted, there’s nothing left between you but space. Space and years and the unspoken.

You take a breath and cross it.

Finally, when you’re close enough that you can feel the weight of his presence in your sternum, Bruce says, softly:

“Your mother would’ve loved this.”

You stop.

Of all the things he could’ve said. Of all the impossible, delicate things wrapped in that sentence.

You look up at him. “Do you think so?”

“I know so.”

His voice is steady. Unflinching. But it holds something rare. Not steel. Not command.

Memory.

“She liked painting as well.”

Something twists in your chest.

You don’t know how to talk to him most days. Not without sharp edges. Not without the underlying why weren’t you there when I needed you vibrating underneath everything. But tonight—maybe just for tonight—you want to try.

“I didn’t know you’d come,” you say.

He blinks. Slowly. “I wasn’t sure if I should.”

Your breath hitches.

“You’re my dad,” you say. “Why wouldn’t you?”

He glances down. Not guilty. Not ashamed. But honest.

“Because I haven’t earned the right,” he replies. “Not yet.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted him to admit, and somehow, it still doesn’t make the hurt easier to hold.

You exhale shakily. “You know, I think some part of me made this whole gallery just to prove something to you.”

He doesn’t interrupt. He listens.

“I don’t even know what. That I’m more than just… the daughter you forgot to look at when the city needed saving. That I could matter. That I could be loud in a room and no one would want to silence me. That I could show pain without it meaning I failed.”

You’re not crying, not really. But your voice shakes. And that feels worse somehow.

Bruce nods once. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Well,” you snap, suddenly, bitterly, “I did. For a long time.”

The silence that follows is jagged.

It hurts, to say it out loud. But you have to.

He takes it. He doesn’t deflect. He just stands there, chest rising slowly, like he’s breathing around rubble.

“I know,” he says.

You look at him. You want to hate him for how still he is. How composed.

But then he speaks again.

“I know I was absent. Not just physically. Emotionally. I was watching you grow up from behind a wall I built myself.”

Your hands are clenched at your sides.

He goes on.

“I convinced myself it was for your protection. That I had to keep everything sharp away from you. That if I just… kept enough distance, you wouldn’t be stained by what I’ve become. But I was wrong.”

You bite your lip, hard.

“You left me alone,” you whisper. “I didn’t want perfection. I just wanted you.”

“I know,” he says again, and this time, his voice cracks on it.

You turn away. Only a little. Just enough to breathe without drowning.

He waits. Doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t step closer. But he doesn’t leave either.

“I used to think maybe I didn’t try hard enough,” you admit, brokenly. “To reach you. Like I should’ve learned to speak your language sooner.”

“I should have learned yours,” he answers.

You look at him then, startled.

“I should’ve seen you,” he says. “Not as a project. Not as a risk. Just… as you.”

The silence stretches. This time, not jagged.

Just heavy. Sacred.

You inhale. “Do you even know how much I wanted you to come tonight?”

“I came,” he says. “And I didn’t leave.”

You blink, and finally—finally—the tears fall.

You don’t sob. You just… weep. Quiet and raw. The kind of tears you’ve been swallowing down since you were ten and decided he’d never really be yours.

And Bruce—your father, your impossible, unreachable father—he steps forward.

Slow. Careful.

Then his arms follow, keeping you against his chest, hugging you. Your tears stain his shirt, but neither of you care.

“I am so proud. So proud, kid.”

“You don't have to be,” you say, voice trembling. “You didn’t have to come. I know this isn’t—this isn’t what you trained me for. It’s not a mission. It’s not Gotham. It’s not even about—”

“You matter,” he says, cutting you off, and it lands like a weight. “You matter to me. Always.”

You blink too fast. “It doesn’t always feel that way.”

“I know,” he says again. And this time, his voice breaks a little on the word. “That’s my fault.”

You feel it—sharp and unrelenting. The grief of a little girl who learned too young that silence could feel like abandonment. That protection could come without warmth. That love didn’t always feel safe.

“I painted our house,” you say, voice trembling now. “I painted your shadow in the doorway. I painted the hallway outside your office. The gloves you left on the table. The cracked tile in the cave. I didn’t even realize how many pieces had pieces of you until I hung them all.”

“I noticed,” he whispers.

“I didn’t want to be angry,” you confess. “But I was. I am. Because I didn’t know how to reach you. And I still don’t. I spent years trying to be good enough—loud enough—worthy enough. And it never felt like it mattered.”

The tears fall full now, silently and unstoppable, and before you can stop yourself, you whisper the thing you’ve carried like glass in your throat:

“I needed you.”

It cracks the air.

It cracks him.

“I’m here,” he says, voice rough, pressing you even harder against him. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve said it sooner. I should’ve made you feel it.”

“I didn’t know if you loved me,” you confess, because now that the dam is broken, everything’s spilling out. “Not really. Not beyond utility.”

He pulls back, just enough to cup your face.

His eyes are red too.

“I love you more than anything,” he says, voice hoarse. “Not because of what you can do. Not because of what you survived. But because you’re you. You’re brilliant. You’re brave. And you’re mine. Nothing you could ever do would change that.”

It’s too much and not enough, and exactly what you’ve always needed.

You throw your arms around him again and bury your face in his shoulder.

This time, he doesn’t let go.

“I am proud of you,” he says, low and steady. “Not because of the art. Not because of the gallery. Because you let yourself be seen.”

“I was so scared,” you whisper. “I was terrified.”

“Good,” he murmurs. “It means it mattered.”

You laugh through the tears—wet, embarrassed, but real.

“That’s what Alfred said.”

“Smart man.”

And, somewhere across the gallery, your siblings are watching. Quietly. Not interfering.

“About time,” Steph murmurs, arms folded tightly around herself, like she’s scared the moment might vanish if she moves too fast.

Jason exhales like he’s been holding his breath all night, like your breakdown was the one thing none of them could punch their way through. Like it was worse than any bloodbath he’s ever walked into because this? This was you hurting, and he couldn’t fix it.

Barbara smiles faintly, eyes shining in the low golden light. She wipes under her eye with the back of her hand, her voice thick when she says, “She needed that. She needed him.”

Cass tilts her head slightly, her gaze never leaving your figure crumpled against Bruce’s shoulder. There’s no envy, no bitterness in her expression. Just pure, resolute knowing. Like the truth of you—your presence, your survival, your belonging—has finally locked into place, and she’s memorizing the weight of it.

And Dick—steady, centered Dick, with his arms crossed like he’s trying to hold the whole world together—says it like a quiet vow: “That’s our sister.”

He doesn’t mean it as a statement of fact.

He means it as a warning.

A promise.

The kind that no one will ever be allowed to challenge again.

Because now that the floodgates have opened—now that they’ve seen it, felt it, watched you sob into Bruce’s shoulder with the kind of grief that rewrites a lifetime—they realize something terrifying:

They almost lost you.

Not physically. Not in the way they’ve lost others.

But emotionally. Spiritually.

You were slipping through their fingers in slow motion and none of them realized how deep the silence went. How far down you’d buried your need just to make room for everyone else’s.

They’d seen you laugh. They’d seen you fight. They’d seen you bleed and stitch yourself up like it was just part of the job.

But none of them had really seen the part of you that believed you had to do it alone.

And now that they’ve seen it?

They won’t let it happen again.

You’re theirs. Fiercely. Permanently. Claimed in the way only family can claim something: with protective instincts sharpened into steel, and love so messy it bruises.

You’ll never be alone again.

They’ll make sure of it.

EXTRA

The gallery is still humming with life when you slip away.

There’s a dull throb in your temples—the aftershocks of vulnerability, of holding too much for too long and finally letting it go. You’ve been hugged, touched, praised, cried on, and nearly abducted by your siblings. You love them, you do. But right now, you need a moment of solitude before someone else decides you need to join a group hug pyramid or give an impromptu second speech.

You slip out through the velvet ropes and climb the stairs two at a time, your dress catching on the wood trim as you ascend. The second floor is quieter—reserved for staff and private storage, plus a small, rarely used bathroom tucked near the old office space. You push the door open and flick the light on.

The mirror greets you with the image of someone who looks like they survived a storm. Your eyes are rimmed red, mascara smudged faintly at the corners. But there’s something else there too—something softer. A peace trying to form, even if it hasn’t taken shape yet.

You splash cold water on your face and take a deep breath.

You’re drying your hands on a paper towel when you hear the creak of the old wood outside the door.

A knock follows.

Then his voice, low and familiar and warm in a way that unspools something inside you.

“Hey. You in there, beautiful?”

You open the door. And there he is.

Conner Kent. Wearing a black button-up rolled at the sleeves, his hair still tousled like he flew here without bothering to fix it. His boots are scuffed, his smile boyish, and his eyes—blue and endless—lock onto yours like he’s been waiting for this exact moment all night.

You lean against the doorframe, heartbeat hiccupping in your chest.

He whistles softly. “Damn. You look like a walking masterpiece.”

You roll your eyes, heat blooming in your cheeks. “Are you seriously flirting with me next to a bathroom?”

“Oh, I’d flirt with you next to a dumpster if it meant I got to see you smile like that.”

“Smooth.”

“Super smooth,” he says, stepping closer.

You don’t move back.

You don’t want to.

“I saw the show,” he says, tone shifting gently. “I stayed quiet. Watched from the mezzanine for most of it. You were…” He exhales, eyes sweeping over you like you’re still a little unreal. “You were breathtaking. Not just the art. You. Standing up there, being so raw, so you. I don’t think I’ve ever been that proud of someone in my entire life.”

Something flickers in your chest. That weird mixture of disbelief and want. Because being seen like this—being held emotionally when you’re not hiding—is still new. Still dangerous.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” He steps into your space fully now. “Y/N, I’ve literally stared down galactic-level threats. I’ve punched through dimensions. But I’ve never been as moved as I was tonight.”

You laugh a little, soft and breathy. “You’re laying it on thick.”

“No,” he says, suddenly serious. “I’m not. You’re incredible. You feel like something I didn’t know I was missing until I found you.”

You freeze a little at that.

He notices. He always does. But he doesn’t apologize for it.

He just takes your hands, fingers curling around yours like he’s anchoring you back to the ground.

“And I know tonight was big,” he says. “And that your family just had a whole emotional breakthrough. I’m not trying to crash the moment.”

“You’re not crashing anything,” you whisper.

His smile returns, slower this time. More intimate. “Good.”

His hands drift up, one tracing your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. You don’t realize you’re leaning into him until his forehead touches yours.

“I wanted to kiss you the second I saw you tonight,” he murmurs.

You grin, a little unsteady. “Then what stopped you?”

“Didn’t want to smudge your lipstick.”

You laugh—and it bubbles out of you so freely, so purely, that even you blink at the sound. You feel weightless for a moment. Giddy.

“That’s considerate,” you say.

He brushes a strand of hair from your face. “But I’m out of excuses now.”

And then he kisses you.

It’s not rushed. It’s not greedy.

It’s full of warmth and promise. The kind of kiss that doesn’t demand, but offers. Like he’s asking if he can be your home, even just for tonight.

You melt into it, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt as he draws you closer. His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

You giggle against his mouth when your back hits the wall beside the bathroom door.

“Sorry,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to your jaw, then your neck. “Got a little carried away.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You sure?” he murmurs, lips ghosting along your skin. “Because I’m starting to think I might want to steal you.”

Your breath catches. “Steal me?”

“Borrow. Kidnap. Fly away with. Whatever feels the most romantic.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting—”

He pulls back just far enough to look at you, grinning like he has a secret. “The night’s not over. And I know a rooftop above the clouds with a view of the whole city. No noise. No people. Just the moon and you and me.”

You blink. “Conner…”

“You deserve to breathe after tonight. You deserve a break. Let me give you one.”

It’s reckless. It’s impulsive.

It’s him.

And it’s the most tempting thing you’ve ever heard.

You glance down at the noise still echoing from below—voices, laughter, applause. Your family is probably waiting for you by now. Tim’s probably trying to track your phone. Damian is definitely threatening to break into your location services. You should go back.

But…

You look back at him. And the pull is too strong.

“Okay,” you say. “Take me away.”

His grin turns boyish again, almost disbelieving.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He kisses you once more—quick, excited—then scoops you up with zero warning. You shriek, laughing, arms looping around his neck.

“You’re insane,” you tell him.

“I prefer spontaneous.”

#batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #batsis #batfam x neglected reader #batsis reader #platonic yandere #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batboys #neglected reader #yandere batfam x neglected reader #my heart #conner kent x reader

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creepykuroneko · 3 days ago

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A lot of people in the notes keep complaining that it's okay to have adult content that does not contain explicit sex scenes. I feel like they are 100% missing the whole point of this post.

Its true no piece of media NEEDS to have a sex scene in it, but if you know anything about conservative Puritan societies, you would be rooting for the sex scenes.

The LIE "we're protecting children" is the excuse used to beat down anyone and anything that doesn't fit into nice clean white, middle class, abled body, cishet, Christian values.

If you have not seen the documentary this film is not yet rated, I highly recommend doing so. It talks about Hollywood's double standards and hypocrisy when it comes to what type of violence and sex is considered acceptable in movies and what is not. Men masturbating on screen completely acceptable. Women masturbating on the screen unacceptable. Men having an orgasm on the camera a okay but a woman having an orgasm on the camera is a no no. Women being raped, beaten, tortured, and murdered is okay. Women having lesbian sex is not.

This horror movie is about a teenage girl who after being let down one too many times by society, starts to kill her rapists one by one? "Can't have that! It's too violent! How is that child appropriate?"

Don't even get me started on the fact that homophobes assume that being gay automatically makes you a sexual deviant. It doesn't matter if a movie/show has zero sex scenes in it, no "crude" or "offensive" humor, if there is a queer couple in it, that's basically an orgy in the eyes of conservatives. Andi Mack anyone? Bluey? I remember in a interview with Alex Hirsch, he talked about how in the Gravity Falls episode Love God, he originally wanted two elderly women to fall in love with each other, but the censors said absolutely not.

Movies that show black joy, black couples having a happy, intimate, romantic, sexual relationship are often put on the back burner. Keep in mind with how little representation Hollywood gives black voices, especially ones that are not harmful stereotypes, it's important for black people to see themselves represented in the media as being happy. Then you also have to acknowledge the fact that when black people make black movies for black audience, they get terrible funding, little to no advertising, and limited run in theaters. Regardless of if a black movie is meant to discuss social issues or it's just the campy movie that happens to star a all black cast, many non black people assume it's automatically political because its made by black people and feel that it would not be a all age is appropriate movie. Despite the fact that they know nothing about the movie and the reality that kids need to be taught about everything. We already know that children in elementary school already start to experience racism from their peers. So I assure you, watching racially diverse films it's the least of society's problem.

Horror is my absolute favorite genre. I'm not saying it's never problematic or you can't criticize it, there are movies that definitely deserve criticism. Sorry, stay with me here I'm about to break this down into two topics.

Horror is good for children. It helps give children a safe contained space to explore different issues, scenarios, and topics that can really help get the critical thinking going. A child reading a book about another child who gets kidnapped and is able to escape from their kidnapper because they figured out how to free themselves is actually good information. It's easy to laugh it off as it's not real life but let's be honest, we know that bad things happen in the real world all the time. Think about how many conservatives get angry when sex ed in schools is brought up because they think it's inappropriate for children to learn? They also don't like media that specifically gets into consent. It's because a lot of them turn out to be pedos themselves. They don't want the children they are abusing to catch on that they need to tell another adult about it.

Horror is the only genre I can think of that features the most physically and mentally diverse characters out there. Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that the plots are usually ableist. Going back to some constructive criticism needs to be had. At the same time though I can think of over a dozen horror movies off the top of my head with real disabled actors in them. How many movies can you think off the top of your head that are not under the horror genre that feature disabled characters? The 1930 film freaks, features a cast of disabled characters. The film was banned for decades because it was considered "grotesque". When American Horror Story freak Show came out, it was very heavily influenced by Freaks. There's some really good interviews with the cast about how they don't find being called a freak offensive. They explained their disabilities, what their life is like, and what they want people to know about them. Despite the title, the cast is very open about sharing their voice and being open with their disabilities. You also have iconic horror actor like Javier Botet who is very open about the fact that he has Marfan syndrome. Botet does not necessarily do child friendly horror but a lot of kids do see his horror movies and love him. Oftentimes when I speak with families of a child with Marfan syndrome, Botet is the first real world example of a famous person with the same condition as the children. It absolutely makes children happy to see that their favorite monster on screen has the same disability as them. Granted this is not true for everyone with Marfan syndrome. I have met people with Marfan syndrome who hate the horror genre and that is okay. Have also met other people with marfan syndrome who love horror films and love seeing actors with the same disability as them.

Child media is so heavily censored as it is. Adult media does not need to be handled with kid gloves as well. Children should not be watching cocomelon because we already know it rots their brains, adults really don't need to be fed cocomelon-esque type of slop. Sorry/not sorry for going on a long rant there. We need diverse stories with diverse characters in them. Adults deserve to have good media that yeah touches on issues that make SOME people uncomfortable. To the person who experiences discomfort watching certain types of media, what exactly is it that makes you uncomfortable? If it's a burry your gays Trope or poc, disabled, and women's lives are disposable while the white man lives I can understand disappointment at seeing your life devalued time and again. If you are outrage though because we got to see the actresses nipple, the rapist priest got decapitated, a group of Native Americans are killing the group of white zombies who are trying to kill them, the white abled body cishet man is the only character to die, or God forbid we should see a black woman kissing an Asian woman, then you need to sit in the corner and unpack that.

hot take possibly? but i actually think it’s okay for things to be marketed for adults. it’s literally okay if things aren’t suitable for children. i feel like we are losing the plot

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pomegranate-eater · 12 hours ago

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Phainon has a dream. cw: fingering, public sexual acts in the field, afab reader, fluff.

“You’re breathtaking when you’re like this…” Phainon murmurs against your ear. The voice comes from behind you, while you feel yourself drown into his broad chest your back is rested against. You both swim, actually; in the field of wheat, as it is the place where no one can disturb you two. It was just a few joys ago that the tunic of yours was bunched up and your garments pulled to the side. Now the legs that trap you from both sides are the only barrier concealing your below-waist nudity, after Phainon has stolen you to rest with him amidst the sunny land.

Except, said voice and nature are not all of the audible sounds in the open — the way his hand between your thighs lazily plays with your outsides and insides forces your wetness to be stirred in teasing to register for ears smacks. It’s all you can wrap your mind about besides how those fingers do you extraordinarily well — two are thrusting and curling in your soaked and constricting walls, while the heel of his palm rested on your mound keeps hitting your bud repeatedly. The arm draped across your front also allows you little escape, while the other makes sure to hold at least one of your shaky and sensitive limbs from closing.

“Phainon…” you whimper, needy yet wary... if not agitated from your desperation for release, as well. Your unadjusted gaze keeps the duty of taking in your surroundings to be on guard against any possible viewers. While the body wants to reach the highest of pleasures, the mind screams you are scared of this closeness disappearing too soon.

The calm sea that peeks through the golden crops feeds your tongue with salty air, the shuffle of wheat lulls you further into his manipulation, the house you two live in is in piece, and the familiar warmth of your lover leads you to believe you are still safe — nothing has changed, but the tension he's been building up lingers. Gathering wheat into your hands is all that you can do in order to ground yourself.

“Shh… I’ve told you, it’s just the two of us here. It’s my secret spot- or should I say, it's ours now,” he reassures with a loving laugh buried in and reverberating across nape, endeared by your vulnerability. As if to reward you for your patience with his slowness and bravery to be so exposed for him in the world’s rawness, his fingers hasten their pace and dig deeper into your body.

You moan — barely, as you remain prudent — and he smiles. “Feels wonderful, doesn’t it?” You nod, the back of your head against pressing tighter his shoulder when a nevralgic spot is grazed inside; as much as this question isn’t about this hedonistic comfort being the only possible truth.

You can feel your sweet release hanging and threatening to erupt between your legs, nestled under his eager hand, and he at once encourages you to let go. “It’s alright. I won’t deny you anymore…” it’s a soft promise made with a kiss as soft, right below your ear.

“So you do admit you were teasing me?” you manage to say amidst your whines and muffled groans, almost angry you had to endure his playfulness; but you’re not really mad at him, as you could never truly be that about your Phainon.

“Would you scold me if I said it’s more about prolonging our moment, even if you are not being given all that you want?” the way he speaks is gentle and you are incapable of reprimanding his approach. “Each chance is too precious to be ending soon.”

“Not if you finally…” your breathless reply is interrupted. Or rather, you deliver a clear answer as you finally finish on his fingers. It is him who’s cautious this time, the other hand quickly clamping your mouth. It’s a shame he has to be robbed of his name on your lips, but he’s not done with you yet to be letting other villagers know you’re hiding with him here.

The next thing you know, you’re on your back, the wheat's fibers poking and tickling your skin from below your fabrics. He’s protective, as the land is softened with a hand under your head. It’s just the bronze plants that accomplish entangling your hair, and you punish them by pulling at them with your growing anticipation once more.

“Will you allow me to have my own share of feeling wonderful?” That mischievous hand next rubs you between your folds, electrifies what’s already overwhelmed, and as your head tilts back with one more pleasure, all you could think about is how much more you want.

When you nod, he’s quick to be selfish himself, bottoms shoved down in a blink of an eye. Phainon is letting you know how much he needs you, and you appreciate that by wrapping your legs around his hips, entrapping your lover so he shall never leave.

“You’re beautiful. I can’t believe you’re here with me. Please, don’t you ever look away from me,” his desperate words are not a plea, but a wish you feel obligated to fulfill. You don’t look away from him now, and you want to maintain that promise in every future sense. Even as you feel the hot and hard intrusion and your hips taunted with a tight grip, your eyes abide faithfully to his ocean and reverent ones.

One thrust inside and the sole saltiness on your tongue is now his happy tears.

#a little writing exercise so I won’t get rusty #phainon x reader #phainon smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #haniaistic—works.

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wonwunss · 2 days ago

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–ᝰ.ᐟ✮ Seungkwan has always shown his affection through playful teasing, calling his sunshiney best-friend-turned-lover names like “dummy” and “idiot”—terms laced with years of shared memories and unspoken love.

But when someone else casually calls you the same name, it doesn’t land the same. You’re too polite to say anything, but Seungkwan sees it instantly—and doesn’t tolerate it one bit.

pairing: seungkwan x f!reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, grumpy x sunshine dynamics, protective love, love language (teasing as affection), “only i get to call you that” trope

word count: 1.2k

a/n: thank you for all the love 🥹🥹 i appreciate it a lot really🫶🏻🫶🏻 also i feel like i haven’t seen seungkwan in forever, missing him a little more today..

You don’t remember the first time Seungkwan called you idiot. Probably somewhere between you falling asleep during a cram session and waking up with highlighter on your face.

But you do remember how your heart stuttered at the way he said it.

Soft, almost fond—like it was dipped in every memory the two of you ever made. It wasn’t cruel or cold. It was never that. Not with him.

It was:

“Yah, idiot, you forgot your charger again.”

“Stop staring at me like that, dummy, you’re distracting.”

“You really are such a chatterbox… but I guess I’m used to it now.”

It was him.

So you didn’t mind. In fact, you’d smile like a lovesick fool every time he muttered one of his usuals, like a song on repeat just for you. And now that you were together—officially dating after years of dancing around each other—it was even better. His insults had a little more tenderness, his teasing laced with soft glances and the quietest acts of love.

Which is why… you weren’t expecting to feel so off when someone else tried it.

“Wow, you really are kind of a dummy, huh?”

The voice was light, amused. A joke. Meant well enough, you guessed.

It was Jisoo—someone from high school who’d joined the little catch-up dinner tonight. Not exactly your friend, but not a stranger either. You’d probably hung out a total of three times in the past, all through Seungkwan. And she always seemed nice enough.

You laughed. Or… tried to. A small huff of breath, polite. Nothing more.

But something about it didn’t land right. The word didn’t feel the same coming from someone else.It wasn’t dipped in warmth. It wasn’t a private joke.It just sounded… mean. Like it was meant to make you feel small.

You didn’t say anything. Just smiled faintly and reached for your drink, hoping the heat crawling up your neck would disappear if you ignored it long enough.

But Seungkwan was already watching.

He saw the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. The way your shoulders tensed just a little. The way you avoided looking at anyone for the next five seconds.

And that’s all it took.

“Don’t,” he said flatly.

Jisoo blinked, confused. “What?”

Seungkwan turned his head slowly, like the bare effort of entertaining this conversation was already grating. “Don’t call her that.”

A beat of silence passed. The mood shifted—just slightly. Enough for Jisoo to frown.

“It was a joke,” she said, laughing awkwardly. “You call her that all the time, I thought—”

“Yeah. I call her that.” His voice was sharp now. Icy. “Not you.”

You swallowed, heart skipping.

Seungkwan didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.

His glare was enough to ice over the table.

“I’ve known her since high school,” he went on, tone flat but furious. “You think you get to talk to her like that just because you heard me do it? You think you understand what those words mean between us?”

Jisoo stammered, taken aback. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it—”

“Then maybe next time, think before you open your mouth.”

Another beat. The silence was uncomfortable now. Not even the clink of utensils dared to interrupt.

You reached for his sleeve under the table. “Kwan…”

His gaze flicked down to you, and just like that, something in his expression softened. A breath. A blink. He exhaled, the edge dulling ever so slightly when he looked at you.

You gave him a small smile. One that said I’m okay, really. But he didn’t smile back.

Instead, his hand reached under the table to intertwine with yours. Firm. Reassuring. His thumb brushed over your knuckles once. Twice.

He still didn’t look away when he said, quieter now, “Only I get to call you that.”

Later, on the walk home, you tugged on his sleeve again, voice light.

“You got all scary back there.”

“You didn’t like it,” he muttered, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I saw your face.”

“It wasn’t that bad—”

“I saw your face.”

You smiled. Warm. Heart aching with something soft.

He always noticed. He always knew.

“You know,” you teased, “you’re kind of possessive.”

He stopped walking, turned to look at you with that familiar frown. “Well, you’re mine.”

You grinned like an idiot. “Say it again.”

“What?”

“The last thing you said. Say it again.”

He rolled his eyes. Looked away. “You’re such a dummy.”

You beamed.

“Only yours.”

Your apartment door closes with a soft click behind you.

Seungkwan doesn’t say anything as you kick off your shoes and toss your bag on the couch. He just stands in the entryway, arms crossed, eyes downcast. Quiet in a way he rarely ever is.

You glance over your shoulder. He hasn’t moved.

“…You good?” you ask gently.

“I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

You blink. “Kwan—”

“I know they were out of line. But I shouldn’t have made it awkward for you. Or for everyone else. I should’ve waited until after or talked to them privately or something.” His tone is calm, but his brows are furrowed deep. “You’re not a fragile little thing. You can handle yourself. I just—”

“Seungkwan.”

He stops rambling, gaze flicking up to meet yours.

You walk over, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. He doesn’t return the hug immediately. Just stands there, stiff and still, like he’s afraid you’re going to pull away any second.

You lean your cheek against his chest. “I liked that you stood up for me.”

“But you were uncomfortable.”

“Not because of you.”

His arms slowly slide around you. “Still.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him. “You know I’m not mad, right?”

He nods once, but there’s something unspoken in his expression—some quiet guilt clinging stubbornly to the edge of his words. So you rise on your toes, brush his hair away from his forehead, and press a soft kiss to the space right between his brows.

“I’m yours,” you whisper. “To love. To tease. To make fun of—only you get to do that.”

His breath catches.

You cup his cheeks with both hands, smiling like he’s the only boy in the universe. “She didn’t mean anything by it, but… it still didn’t feel nice. And you saw that. You always see me. That means everything, Kwan.”

He doesn’t reply—not right away.

Instead, he leans down and rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“I hate it,” he murmurs.

“Hm?”

“When someone else talks to you like that. Like they know you.” He swallows. “Like they think they’ve earned the right to treat you the way I do. They haven’t.”

Your fingers trace gentle lines across his jaw. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” You grin. “It’s cute.”

He groans, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t say that.”

“But it is. You’ve been calling me names since I was seventeen and you yelled at me in the cafeteria for eating chips before lunch.”

“You were being a dumbass.”

“See?” you giggle. “Only you.”

He softens then. Really softens.

His arms wrap tighter. His nose nudges against yours. And for once, Seungkwan doesn’t have anything else to say—no snarky comeback, no annoyed little scoff.

Just a long sigh. A hand smoothing over your back. And a whisper so quiet you almost miss it: “I’m never letting anyone hurt you. Not even as a joke.”

You press your lips to his again. “I know.”

You kiss him once, twice more.

Soft. Sure. Reassuring.

Because in every way that matters, you’ve always been his.

And he’s always been yours.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen reactions #seventeen drabbles #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #seventeen x you #svt fluff #seventeen #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x you #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #svt scenarios

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organic-bloodbath · 16 hours ago

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Please, forgive me (i love you)

Thanos x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Thanos finds his ex-girlfriend, now very much pregnant, in the games with him. You didn’t break up in good terms but Thanos does everything he can to protect you in the games. You and your baby.

A/N: Forks don't exist in Squid Game ok. Idk whatever the hell this is but i missed this little purple shit in s3 😔

☆☆☆

Thanos was prepared to leave the games with a stack of money – not with a stack of money and a newborn baby.

When he saw you for the first time, right before the first game started, his heart dropped and for a moment he forgot how to function. What the hell were you doing here?

"Y/N?" he asked, making you turn around to face him. He was about to pull some sort of a joke on you, but his amused and cocky smile faded as he looked down to your stomach – clearly a very, very pregnant stomach. Getting any words out of his mouth wasn't so easy anymore.

“Su-bong,” you replied coldly and crossed your arms against your chest. You had already seen him inside, being surrounded by a crowd of his fans, eager to be in the picture with him and disappointed when they couldn't get the photo together with the oh so amazing rap artist. You were probably the only one who didn’t want to talk to him or hear a single word from him in return, having nothing good to say to him.

“What… what are you doing here?” Thanos asked, shocked to see you after all these months.

8 months exactly. The last time Thanos had seen you was in your apartment. You were shouting and throwing things at him, screaming at him for ruining your life and how you never wanted to see him again. You had kicked him out in the middle of the night, ending the three year long relationship. You had taken a lot of shit from Thanos, always forgiving him, but using your money for more drugs without your knowledge and permission, a lot of it too, when he had ran out of his was the final point of a breakdown for you and ending things between the two of you. Later, when you were already gone, he had realized how he had taken you for granted and put his career as a rap artist before you. Both his career and drugs, while you were supposed to be his priority.

“Do you actually have to ask that?” you scoffed. “I think you know pretty well what kind of debts you left me after you emptied my bank account. And my life has only gone to worse ever since.”

The game will now begin.

“Y/N, I —“ Thanos started but you brushed him off.

“Fuck off, Thanos,” you spat and quickly walked away from him to the other side of the field before the game would start.

You had never called him ‘Thanos’, it was always Su-bong. Thanos knew that he deserved all the hate from you, he was aware of that. He had fucked up, big time, and he didn’t know if you’d ever forgive him for that.

☆☆☆

As the first few days passed, you didn’t talk to him, didn’t even look at his way. You simply wanted nothing to do with him, and Thanos understood that. He deserved it. But he couldn't help but look in your way whenever the players were thrown back into the dorm after the games.

You had found your own group there, hanging out the most with the player 388, 120 and 456. He watched you, whether you were aware of it or not. Wanting to approach you, talk to you, but you would just push him away, and he didn't want to cause a scene in front of other people. Thanos didn't know if you wanted to be associated with him there at all, letting others know that you already knew each other and even that Thanos had been the one to knock you up. Or had you told about it to the others already? No, of course you hadn't. It was a secret you didn't want to spill. Thanos had to respect that.

Thanos opened the cross hanging from his neck, planting one of the pills on his tongue to get his mind off everything.

Off the games. And you.

☆☆☆

During the game of Mingle, Thanos made sure that you had a team to search for a room with before he'd start heading towards one of the rooms with other players. He had to see that you made it in and weren't left all alone by the carousel.

But the player 388 and 120 took good care of you.

However, when it was time for two players to find a room together, Thanos noticed you nearby still without a partner. Before the player 388 (Dae-ho, was it?) would manage to reach you, Thanos grabbed your hand and started leading you towards one of the rooms.

“Thanos, for fuck’s sake can—“ you started, angry at meddling into your business when you were just fine with a partner already.

"Will you stop avoiding me?" Thanos asked, annoyed of your stubborn behavior. “Please, can we just talk?”

“About what exactly?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Thanos wasn’t sure what to say. There was so much he wanted to say but he didn’t know where to start or how to form his thoughts into real sentences so that they’d make any sense. It didn’t help either that he was a little high. And you seemed to pick on it. You could always tell.

“Are you high again?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. You scoffed and shook your head, turning away from him. “Typical.”

“Y/N, seriously,” Thanos repeated. God, why did he have to take the pill again. “I just want to make up things between us.”

“Why?” you chuckled. “Because I’m pregnant and suddenly you have a need to be a responsible dad?”

“No, I don’t mean that,” Thanos shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Then what?”

“I just,” he started but the words got stuck in his throat.

The door unlocked, and you didn’t spare him a moment longer, leaving him alone in the room.

☆☆☆

That night, you had ended up to lying on the nasty bathroom floor, knees up and legs spread. This was absolutely the worst fucking moment to start giving birth.

It was the middle of the night, you had woken up to bad stomach cramps and felt the mattress turned wet underneath you. So, after the initial shock and panicking, you woke Geum-ja up, knowing she was the best person to help you.

Although, as Geum-ja was walking you towards the bathroom, you hadn’t been the only one up and awake. Thanos had been sitting on his own bed, not being able to sleep, when he noticed you going towards the bathroom with the old woman supporting you so you wouldn’t fall on the floor.

Something was clearly wrong. Thanos knew you didn’t want to see him, wanted nothing to do with him, but he grew worried and had to get up and go to see what was going on.

You were crying, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I can’t do it, I can’t,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I don’t want to. Please don’t make me do this.”

“It’s time, dear. The baby’s coming, whether you wanted it or not,” Geum-ja said calmly. “Now, take a deep breath and lay down, alright?”

When both of you noticed Thanos arriving to the doorway, you fell silent, just a hiccup slipping out of your throat. Thanos’ eyes widened when he realized what was going on.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck shit.

“Su-bong, get the fuck out of here,” you growled, fuming inside.

But Thanos was frozen still on his spot, eyes wide unable to move.

“Su-bong. Get. Out.”

But he stayed, Geum-ja approving his help since there was nobody else around right now.

“I fucking hate you,” you gritted between your teeth, squeezing Thanos’ hand so hard it hurt but Thanos tried not to show it. “God, how much I hate you.”

“I know, I know,” Thanos mumbled, trying not to take anything coming out of your mouth personally right now.

Thanos brushed your hair and forehead with his free hand, a few strands of hair sticking on the sweaty skin. You had lost the sense of time how many minutes had passed. Ten minutes? An hour? It felt like the baby was taking forever to come out, the pain being unbearable, the worst pain you had ever had to go through. This would certainly be the last time you would willingly give birth to a child.

“One last push,” Geum-ja instructed.

When the baby finally came out and you heard crying, you let yourself relax. Thanos held you behind you, your body shivering and limp from exhaustion.

When the baby was in your arms, the initial crying and screaming stopped, you could have burst in tears as well. And you did, without realizing it.

You let yourself lean against Thanos’ chest, his arms around your waist as he pulled you slightly up, but still sitting on the floor while Geum-ja cleaned you up a little. You were way too tired and out of energy to even move your limbs at the moment, actually glad that Thanos were there to support you.

“She’s pretty,” Thanos whispered and pressed a kiss on top of your head.

“She is,” you said and smiled, only concentrating on your newborn baby and how much love you already had for her.

☆☆☆

Your arm was broken after the hide and seek game, it definitely was, and you could barely hold the baby in your arms. How the hell could you make it through the game without accidentally dropping her on the way?

"I can carry her," Thanos offered.

"What?" you asked. "Oh hell no."

"Y/N, you clearly can't carry her on your own," Thanos argued.

"Are you on drugs right now?" you asked, trying to get closer to look into his eyes.

"No, i'm not on drugs," Thanos sighed. He knew you wouldn't believe him that easily, knowing how he had acted during all the previous games.

"I have a really hard time believing that," you scoffed. "You've been on drugs constantly since we got here."

"Fair, but i haven't taken a single pill after you gave birth," he explained.

"That was literally one day ago."

"What else are you going to do with her, huh?"

You knew you wouldn't be able to pass the game with your baby in your arms.

"Come on, give her to me," Thanos pleaded. He wanted you and the baby go to the other side safely. He wanted to help you to get out of here. Take care of you. Keep you safe. Protect you.

Because god damn it how much he loved you.

You looked around you. Gi-hun was going to carry Jun-hee’s baby across the bridge, so he wouldn’t be able to help.

Yes, two babies had been born during these games. Bet the VIPs were having a blast.

Dae-ho was dead, Hyun-ju was dead, even Geum-ja was dead — you had nobody left anymore. Nobody who you truly, from the bottom of your heart, trusted. Even though you had known each of them for barely a week, you trusted them more with your baby than this reckless drug addict in front of you.

But you had no choice.

“If you drop her, I’ll actually kill you with my bare hands,” you threatened him.

“And I’d expect nothing less,” he replied with a smile on his lips, but the look on your face told him that this wasn’t the time to joke about anything. He cleared his throat and turned more serious. “I’ll keep her safe, I promise.”

You were hesitant but gave the baby to Thanos. He handled her like she was made of glass and would break in pieces if he held her too tightly.

“Hi, baby,” Thanos whispered and smiled, looking directly into his daughter’s eyes. It was the first time he held her in his arms, and the sight of them together made your heart skip a beat and eyes tear up a little, smile threatening to crawl on your lips but you tried to keep your face neutral.

You looked towards the bridge, half of the people had already stepped their foot on the bridge. You swallowed, your body getting filled with so much anxiety your hands were shaking and you felt like you could throw up. You can do this, you thought. It’s not so bad. Just jump at the correct moment and you’ll be fine. Easy. Easy game. Nothing to worry about.

But each time the rope swept another player off the bridge to their death, you became less and less confident on passing the game yourself.

“Hey,” Thanos said quietly, startling you from your thoughts. “It’ll be alright, you can do it. We can do it.”

You took a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself down.

“You wanna go first or should we?”

“I… I’ll go first,” you muttered and took one last look at your child in Thanos’ arms, pressing a kiss on her forehead before heading towards the bridge. You didn’t spare Thanos another look, you couldn’t. You’d see him on the other side, right?

Thanos didn’t think he had ever been as scared as he was right at this moment. He didn’t care that much if he fell and died. To be honest, he was surprised he had managed to progress this far in the games, not taking them seriously and recklessly fooling around. Now, he had to concentrate a lot more, because he was responsible for another life as well. A life that hadn’t even properly started yet. And if he fucked up this, you’d be gone forever. You would probably push him over the edge in the end of the bridge if he arrived there empty-handed.

Thanos glanced towards the platform at the end of the bridge. You were safely standing there among other few players who had passed the game. You were safe, thank god for that; Thanos wasn’t ready to become a single father, raise his kid on his own.

One jump, two steps, then he looked back into your eyes again. You didn’t dare to move your eyes from them for even one second, as if staring at their progress would help Thanos keep his balance and not trip on his feet.

He was doing well, he could do it. Almost there. Almost back there with you.

Finally, Thanos stepped on the platform and walked towards you.

“See, told you it was gonna be simple,” Thanos said with a smile.

You instantly took the baby back into your arms from Thanos. She was alright, you were alright - he was alright too.

“Y/N,” Thanos said before you could turn around and leave. “I want to be in your life. Both of yours.”

“Yeah?” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not until you quit taking drugs and are able to prove that you’ve changed.”

Thanos hesitated for a moment. Then, he pulled his cross necklace over his head, opening it and showing the remaining four pills inside of it.

“This is all I have here,” he said. “I won’t take any tonight or for tomorrow’s game, alright?” You didn’t answer at first. He then closed the cross and turned around, throwing it over the edge until the metal cross hit the floor next to the fallen corpses. Thanos turned back to you.

“That’s a start but not nearly enough,” you said.

“I know.” Thanos pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “I promise I’ll try.”

☆☆☆

#squid game imagine #squid game x reader #thanos x reader #thanos imagine #thanos x you #choi su bong imagine #choi su bong x reader #choi su bong x you

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basshole-astard · 8 hours ago

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btw if you don't know how shitty gerrymandering is and why this makes it . so so so unbelievable to assume they voted for this. they didnt! it's just... well,

Gerrymandering, defined in the contexts of representative electoral systems, is the political manipulation of electoral district boundaries to advantage a party, group, or socioeconomic class within the constituency. The manipulation may involve "cracking" or "packing". Gerrymandering can also be used to protect incumbents. Wayne Dawkins, a professor at Morgan State University, describes it as politicians picking their voters instead of voters picking their politicians. The term gerrymandering is a portmanteau of a salamander and Elbridge Gerry, Vice President of the United States at the time of his death, who, as governor of Massachusetts in 1812, signed a bill that created a partisan district in the Boston area that was compared to the shape of a mythological salamander. The term has negative connotations, and gerrymandering is almost always considered a corruption of the democratic process. (Wikipedia)

and these images that show you a visual representation of what's going on - which means "red" wins without actually or accurately representing its voter base.

which you can view the latter yellow and blue one as an annotated chart - with text-reader accessible text! - here, thanks wikipedia

but lets see these in map form, you know.

first, here's a caricature image of the 1812 district that coined the term, imagined as a "dragon" or a "monster":

and here's a famous example of "packing", where all like-minded voters are crammed into as few districts as possible, meaning they will never win enough districts to influence the whole state. Congressional District 12 of North Carolina, which was the topic of Shaw v Reno, a Supreme Court Case on racial gerrymandering... District 12 had a "snake-like" appearance that encompassed basically the entirety of NC's black population, who largely voted democratic.

in 2017, they "fixed" it and drew new districts that couldn't be based on racial distribution, but whether or not this is "more" "fair" is not something i feel qualified to say

And this real life example in Austin, Texas. From the UCF page:

These maps show examples of gerrymandering in Texas, where the Republican-controlled legislature has redrawn House districts to reduce the number of Democratic seats by combining voters in Austin with those in surrounding counties, sometimes even several hundred miles away. Today, Austin is represented by six different congressional representatives.

which you can also see here on wikipedia:

U.S. congressional districts covering en:Travis County, Texas (outlined in red) in 2002, left, and 2004. In 2003, Republicans in the Texas legislature redistricted the state, diluting the voting power of the heavily Democratic county by parceling its residents out to more Republican districts. The district in orange is the infamous "Fajita strip" district 25 (intended as a Democratic district), while the other two districts (10 and 21) are intended to elect Republicans. District 25 has now been redrawn as a result of the 2006 U.S. Supreme Court decision, and is no longer a "Fajita strip".

- and one last image that really breaks down "cracking", i feel. The urban (and mostly liberal) Columbus, OH, located in Franklin County, is split into thirds, each segment then attached to - and outnumbered by - largely conservative suburbs.

finally, CBS News on how Gerrymandering has gotten worse:

"The problem is, politicians don't like to change the rules that got them in power; that's the biggest barrier," said Virginia Commonwealth University political science professor Alex Keena, co-author of two books about gerrymandering. Pogue asked, "Do Republicans and Democrats gerrymander equally?" "No. We studied 48 states, just the state legislative maps," Keena said. "And we found that there were 44 gerrymanders, and 42 of those were Republican."

#uspol #voting #gerrymandering #sorry to pop off but the more i looked into gerrymandering to understand it the more horrified i was #sometimes. sometimes it is simply. not your fault.#shoutout to the states that went ''ok we are taking the district mapping out of the hands of the politicians'' which at least feels. fair?#idk if the districts are ACTUALLY fair but. the AZ one has like maps and maps and maps of data to back up their decisions #and it's such a hard balance between ''we need to make sure our minorities are represented'' and #''it's probably not good to have a district that bends over backwards to include the entire POC population''#''so that POC population cannot overwhelm white votes in other districts''#AND due to population density some congressional districts can seem unnecessarily huge but like #of course the mostly empty desert that contains two or three small towns is a huge district #and the third most population dense city in the US is split into several districts WITHIN ITSELF #anyway take the products of my research

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viorel-lette · 2 days ago

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Is it controversial for me to think Pure Vanilla would be Bobby coded 😭 i think he fits the happy girldad manager role perfectly… (I know he’s probably Rumi in your au though?)

From what I've seen of Bobby aka best manager ever, I don't think its controversial at all! I think the manager role really suits him :]

Also woah I never even thought of making it into an AU :O I kinda just drew the beast x saja boys for some crossover fanart funsies but hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[PS! With how popular crossovers with this movie is, there's a chungus possibility this has already been done before, so simply consider this as my own little version among a bunch of others :] ]

With that aside, here's a little looksies on The Beasts outfits!

Since we've established that the beasts are the Saja boys, then that obviously leaves the ancients being Huntrix. And this could either go in two ways:

(1), huntrix are all the five ancients with PV being Rumi/the leader OR (2), they could consist of only the the three ancient girlies! (GCheese, HBerry, and WLily) with Lily being Rumi

And hear me out, I prefer the second option more and here's why:

Lily wears a braid just like Rumi :D

If we're basing this option lore wise, this can sorta click because of how Shmilk and Lily somewhat relate to each other more with the whole knowledge seeking, truth awareness, and fall to corruption— just like how Rumi and Jinu understood each other due to both of them being demons (half on Rumi's case)

Expanding this point ^, just as how Rumi is only half demon while Jinu is fully one, Lily and Shmilk could have a closer dynamic similar to these two with how Lily had corrupted but seperated and Shmilk having fully corrupted.

Also this paves the way for PV to be their Bobby/manager :D— AND! Dark Cacao will be the group's security personnel bodyguard or CPO (Close Protection Officer)! These guys are usually in charge of the idols safety, particularly when their in public or surrounded by fans

[Planned to include their designs here, but I think I'll instead make a separate post just for them, detailing their designs and other possible headcanons I can think of :D]

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Gwi-ma is Dark Enchantress! Tried adding bits of red on the beasts' "Your Idol" fits as a little hint to that.

The previous demon hunters (Or I guess beast hunters?), specifically Celine, in this crossover will be one of the Witches (kind of a little call back to how the witches forked the beasts)

"Wait so with Shmillk being Jinu and Lily, Rumi, doesn't this mean this AU contains ShadowLily?" It can but I suppose not necessarily?? Lily and Shmilks dynamic in this crossover can be taken in any way! Though I'm a pretty big fan of platonic relationships and these two are my favorite shaylas so in a way, their dynamic here to me can be summed up with this one scene:

Their frenimies with besty vibes your honor 😔

ALSO also—

Black Sapphire as Sussie (the sassy little magpie) and Candy Apple as Derpy (the tiger, the kibbie, the blue yellow-eyed floof)!!

And hhh that's about it :D thinking of calling this silly AU "K-pop Beast Hunters" or something akdkskwh idk 😭— and thanks for the ask Anon! A new crossover has been crossed🗿

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blueskiestarot · 2 days ago

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18+ Your Next Spicy Night 🔥

Hey, friends! Happy Spicy Saturday! In today's reading, we're going to look into your next spicy night, who it will be with, and what will happen between you two. To choose your pile, focus on the images and pick the one you feel the most drawn to or the one that catches your eye first. Let me know what pile you chose and if it resonated with you! 🫶

Love, Tara

Who Will Your Next Spicy Night Be With?

Right away, I see that this is someone new, someone you don't know yet or have history with. This is someone you will be in a committed relationship with when you have this spicy encounter. This person is also EXTREMELY attractive. There will be a fiery passion and intense sexual chemistry between you two. I see that this is someone who is very in touch with their feminine energy regardless of their gender. They are deeply emotional, intuitive, complex, and very nurturing. However, they may not show that side of themselves to everyone. When you first meet, this person may come across as a bit guarded. They take awhile to open up to people, especially new people. It takes awhile to earn their trust because they have been hurt before. They've had things they had to heal from in the past and they aren't looking to repeat those experiences. Because of that, they are very protective of their peace and their inner world. They don't let just anyone into their life. I also feel like this person takes love and sex very seriously. Those two things are intertwined and they have a hard time separating them. So, they aren't one for hookups or casual sex. They have to be emotionally invested in someone before they feel sexual attraction to them and before they even consider sleeping with them. I also see that this is someone who is very intelligent and they have very progressive views. As traditional as they are about love and relationships, they are actually very open-minded and accepting of others who may be different from them. I do feel like they can be quite opinionated and they are not afraid to stand up for what they believe in or stick up for others. They have a lot of inner strength and their personality is very dominant. That dominance has gotten them far in life too. I see that they are very successful. Their success has not been handed to them though. They have worked hard and have dedicated themselves to whatever it is that they do. This is someone who knows they are the best at what they do and it's not arrogance, it's confidence because they know that they've put the work in to be able to say that. I feel like this person could have a very important position in their career. They may be a leader, someone who is in charge of others or someone who is an expert in their field. I do feel like you may have some insecurities about this when you meet. You may feel like this person would never be interested in you because of how successful they are. You may have a career that isn't always associated with wealth or you may just not be in a place in your life where you feel secure and successful. It'll be like the "starving artist" falling for the wealthy businessman. However, I see that this person will have no issue with what you do and where you are at in your life. This is someone who looks at someone's soul, not their wealth when choosing a romantic partner.

What Will Happen Between You Two?

This night will be full of both physical intimacy and emotional intimacy. I see long, deep talks about the future and what you both want. I see you talking a lot about marriage, family, and children. You both are very serious about each other and you see a future together. So, I see you both wanting to have this conversation to see if you are compatible on that level and on the same page when it comes to future plans. This feels like a sweet night that turns spicy. At the start of the night, it'll feel like you are two best friends who are enjoying each other's company. You'll be laughing, doing something you love doing together, and just enjoying the night. However, at some point, things turn heated. It may be a look or a touch but whatever it is, it brings that fire between you that was simmering in the background roaring to life. For some of you who are more inexperienced, this could be the night you lose your virginity. I do see you two going multiple rounds. However, I do feel like the first round won't be all that good and I don't think it will end in either of you feeling satisfied. I feel like you may have to stop before either of you has orgasmed. If you or your partner are inexperienced or if either of you have sexual trauma, it may just get to overwhelming or it may be a bit painful (especially if you are a woman with a man) and that may be why you have to stop and take a break. However, when you do come back to it later in the night, I see you two having more success because you know what to expect, you know how to plan for it, and you are just much more comfortable with each other in that way. So, I do see you both being able to orgasm the second time and I think there could be another round or multiple rounds after that because once you two get a taste of each other, you won't be able to keep your hands off of each other.

Who Will Your Next Spicy Night Be With?

This pile is a little messy, not gonna lie. So, only take this if it resonates because it's kind of specific. Your next spicy night will be with someone you have some history with. I see that this could be someone you are friends with currently or who you friend zoned in the past because of other factors in their life that made a romantic relationship with them undesirable or difficult to maintain. There could be baby mama/daddy drama with this person and that could have been a big factor in their hesitancy to commit to you in the past. For some, this person could have even had an ex say they were pregnant as a way to come between you and this person in the past. This person may have even been in a relationship as well but I do see that if that is the case, this person has severed ties with that person. For some, this person even went through a divorce recently. So, just take it as it resonates. I do see that this person has been through a lot of hardship recently. I see that right now, they aren't feeling the most stable in their life. They could've disappointed their family and their family could've shunned them. I just feel like right now, they feel very alone. However, as bad as it sounds, I do think this is what they needed. It's been a wakeup call for them and it has made them realize what is truly important to them. So, I do feel like they have a completely different outlook on life and their priorities have shifted because of it. I do see that right now, they are very focused on happiness in general. They are done doing what is expected of them and done trying to please others. Instead, they are focused on what feels good to them and what makes them happy. There's an emphasis here on being honest with you as well. So, in the past, if this person tended to lie or skirt around issues, they are going to be much more honest and open with you now.

What Will Happen Between You?

I know this is a "your next spicy night" reading but I feel like this spicy encounter will happen during the day or it will start in the daytime and go into night. I see that this person is going to be very magnetic and there will be something about their energy that is much more intense and alluring than it was in the past. I do feel like for a good portion of your time together, you'll keep things kind of surface level but it'll feel like there is an "elephant in the room" that you aren't acknowledging. There will be this feeling of one or both of you holding back, almost like you are afraid to bring up sensitive topics because you don't want to rehash any past drama but knowing that it is necessary in order to move past it. Because of that, I do think things could be a little awkward or tense for awhile. However, at some point, I see one of you breaking the ice and choosing to address those past issues. This will lead to a very open and honest conversation, one that creates more trust between you. I see you talking about any third party interference from the past and really addressing those issues. While this conversation may be tense and uncomfortable at first, I feel like there will be a sense of relief after it is done. You'll feel like your connection has changed in the most positive way. You'll feel like you truly were able to overcome whatever it was that kept you apart in the past and that you are moving towards a more stable and positive future together. I see the night ending on a lot of laughs, reminiscing, and emotional intimacy. I don't know that things will get very physical. I think the "spice" here is more about sexual tension and the attraction between you, almost like a promise of what is to come.

Who Will Your Next Spicy Night Be With?

So, I do feel like you could have more than one romantic option when this person comes into your life. You may also feel like this person is a bit of a player as well and you may think that they aren't that serious about you. However, I do feel like they are a lot more serious than they seem. This is someone who is very assertive and confident. Some may even call them a bit arrogant or even a bit pushy (not in a negative or creepy way that would make you feel unsafe around them). I feel like the way this person approaches you will be a lot different from past connections. You may not be used to being pursued or people who have pursued you in the past may have been very passive about it. So, having someone who is chasing you and not being shy about how attracted they are to you, how they feel, and what they want with you will be a lot different. At times, it may even be a little overwhelming. However, I'm seeing a lot of potential for long-term commitment here. So, keep that in mind, especially because I feel like this person is not your usual type. You may have been manifesting long-lasting, genuine love when this person comes in and here they come, looking like the last thing that you wanted. I keep hearing, "this is not what I manifested" and "this is not what I meant." So, I just feel like they may surprise you but Spirit is urging you to take a chance on them because I do think that you will be pleasantly surprised. I also feel like you may be kind of avoiding romance when this person shows up. Even if you do have multiple options and people who are interested in you, you may be turning down offers and choosing to remain single in order to focus on yourself. You may even be a bit guarded and you may be afraid to open your heart to someone new because you've been hurt a lot in the past. Whatever the case may be, I do think you may be a little resistant to this connection when it shows up. With that said, this person is very persistent and when they want something, they go after it and they don't give up easily. This person loves a good challenge and they are not afraid of the chase and having to earn your trust. That just makes it more fun and makes you more alluring to them. On a more random note, there is something about this person's style and the way they dress that will be unique or make them stand out from the crowd. They could also drive a sports car and/or a convertible.

What Will Happen Between You?

This will be a night filled with romance, love, and affection. This is a true romantic encounter. This person will want to wine and dine you. They will want to spoil you and make you feel like royalty. So, expect them to pick you up, bring you flowers, and take you to a really nice place. Also, this feels very much like a formal date and not a hookup or random encounter. This feels like something that was planned out. I do see that the sexual chemistry and the attraction between you will be burning hot. However, I think this date may not flow very well at the beginning but I think that is due to your own stubbornness. lol. I feel like you'll be a bit reluctant to open up to this person but they'll be trying so hard to impress you, earn your trust, and make you feel safe with them. There seems to be a lot of overthinking happening on your part, almost like you are afraid to hope for a happy ending here because you've been disappointed so many times in the past. However, I do think that you will slowly warm up to this person and with every minute that passes, you'll start to feel much more comfortable with them and more open to them. By the end of the night, I see that your connection will have grown and will have gotten so much stronger because of the effort this person is putting in. I also feel like your opinion of them will be positively changed by the end of the night and you may even have a more positive outlook on love and relationships as well. Now, on a sexual level, I don't know if much will happen. I see that this person will be very respectful of your boundaries and they don't want to be pushy or make you feel uncomfortable in any way. So, I do feel like they'll keep their hands to themselves for the most part. I do see some hand holding and maybe a tame kiss at the end of the night but for the most part, it seems like this person is keeping things very friend and PG while also making it clear that they want a serious romantic relationship with you if you are open to it.

Who Will Your Next Spicy Night Be With?

So, your next spicy night will be with someone who is very balanced, calm, and grounded. This is someone with a very solid, secure energy. You will feel so comfortable and safe in their presences. However, your connection may start with a bit of a hiccup. I feel like when you first meet, your first impression of this person may not be the best and you may think they are something that they are not. I feel like when you first meet this person, they will be fresh out of a breakup. They are trying to heal and move on from that past relationship. However, they may be going about it in not so healthy ways. They could be in a bit of a player phase and you may judge them for that and shut them down when they make a move towards you. However, I do think you will quickly realize that how you see them is a misconception. Even though they were exploring their options, this person is more than ready to settle down with the right person. This is someone who wants marriage and a family. So, while they may be exploring their options and enjoying being single, their ultimate goal is to find their person. I do see that there will be a very strong attraction between you, almost primal and animalistic. You definitely won't be able to deny the chemistry and the connection you share.

What Will Happen Between You?

This encounter will be full of emotional and physical intimacy. As far as spiciness goes, I do see that there will be some sexual acts that you do with each other. However, I don't see you going all the way. I see you wanting to but stopping yourselves because you don't want to rush this connection. I do see some touching and grinding/dry humping. It will be very hot and sexy in the moment and neither of you will want to stop. You'll have to really force yourselves to take a step back and take a breather in order to allow the sexual energy to dissipate. Even though you don't go all the way, I feel like this will be the best sexual experience of your life. This connection will feel much different and a lot stronger than anything you've experienced. I also feel like you two will get a lot closer emotionally through this encounter. I see this person being vulnerable with you and opening up about the complexities of trying to heal and move on from a past connection while exploring a new connection. All in all, I feel like this is an encounter and connection that transform both of you in the most positive ways

Who Will Your Next Spicy Night Be With?

I love this for you, pile five! This is a connection that has so much potential for a long-term, stable connection. For most of you, this is likely the person you will end up marrying. This is a connection that starts as friendship and slowly but surely grows into something more deeper, undeniable, and all consuming. I feel like you will most likely meet this person in the Summer time and at some point, they will invite you somewhere or to do something under the guise of just friends. However, they plan to confess their romantic feelings for you and that is the moment that changes everything. It sounds cliche and silly but it'll feel almost like the stars and planets are aligning just for this moment to happen. It will feel like the universe is celebrating with you because two souls who were meant to find each other finally found each other. This will be a relationship built on reciprocity, tenderness, safety, and warmth. It's not a burning wildfire, it's a cozy campfire. This person will also be great at reading you. They are very observant and they have an almost intuitive connection with you that allows them to feel and see any mood shifts you may have. You will feel truly seen in this connection. You'll open up to this person about things you wouldn't tell most people. They will know your deepest secrets, the feelings that you are afraid to share with anyone else, and they will know you like the back of their hand.

What Will Happen Between You?

So, I see that this night could happen in the fall or late summer (September to October) when it's still warm but the temperatures are starting to cool down. I feel like this person could invite you to some kind of get-together with their friends and family. It won't be a huge thing but they'll want to introduce you to the people that are important to them. This feels more like a barbecue, bonfire, Sunday dinner vibe. It's cozy and down to earth. However, I feel like you go into this night with a lot of nerves. You'll worry if this person's friends and family will like you and you'll be really worried about embarrassing yourself and your person. You'll just be putting a lot pressure on yourself but it's all overthinking. When you get there, I feel like you'll quickly start to feel comfortable with these people even though they are new to you. They will be so warm and welcoming. You'll have no choice but to feel the love and warmth that surrounds you. This night will feel almost magical, like you are exactly where you are meant to be. I don't feel like there will be much physical spice until later. I feel like you could end the night with a very spicy kiss in the car before they drop you off, one that leaves you wanting more. It could even turn into a full blow makeout session with lots of tongue action, touching, clothes getting pushed aside to give better access, etc. However, I don't think you'll go very far sexually. This feels like an encounter that is hot and heavy but leaves you wanting more. Later that night when you are both alone, I feel like you could call each other or text each other and that quickly turns very spicy. I feel like this could result in pictures, videos, or even a FaceTime call that leaves you both panting and going to bed with very inappropriate thoughts of each other and what is to come in the future.

Who Will Your Next Spicy Night Be With?

So, I want to begin this by saying that I want you to be careful with this connection because I do see this possibly turning very obsessive and toxic very quickly. I feel like the attraction between you two will be very fiery. This is definitely a connection based on lust but because you are a romantic at heart, you may mistake this for love and see a future with this person that isn't possible. I feel like this person is someone who is only in it for the physical. This person has no intentions of settling down or committing. They enjoy sex, they enjoy being single, and they love their freedom. I see this person possibly stringing you along and giving you false promises to keep you interested. They know how you feel about them and they know that they have power over you because of that and they aren't ashamed to use that power to get what they want from you. This person could be a fire sign (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) and for a lot of you, this is someone you already know and are having a hard time letting go. If that resonates with you, I see that this person knows that you've developed this almost obsession with them and they aren't afraid to use that to their advantage. It's super important to use logic when approaching this connection. In order to navigate it, you will need a clear mind and not be clouded by your emotions.

What Will Happen Between You?

This person may start out being very sweet to you. They may wine and dine you, bring you flowers, and give you very sweet compliments. However, it's all done with the motive of getting you in their bed and under them. Yes, this will result in a hot and sexy hookup. This person is no doubt a very skilled lover. They are very good in bed and this will end in both of you climaxing. So, I don't think this will be a bad or unsatisfying hookup in the slightest. However, the emotional intimacy with be lacking. I feel like you will be seeing and feeling things that aren't there because you are in love with idea of love and are obsessed with feeling that. So, it's almost like you trick yourself into feeling these intense emotions and this person is very good at playing the part as well. However, this seems like a "love 'em and leave 'em" type of encounter. You'll have some hot and steamy sexual moments that end in complete sexual satisfaction but it will be over quickly and this person will be out the door without providing aftercare, giving any sweet words of reassurance about how they feel, and without making you feel like they actually give a damn about you. I see you ending the night feeling a bit used and even rejected on an emotional level, unfortunately.

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bones4thecats · 2 days ago

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Can i request Yandere platonic saja boys with young teen male idol

Like reader is a singer whos probably 13-17, who looks young for their age and is blind in one eye with a scar over it. Like reader been a idol for years and is probably friends with Huntrix, so the saja boys decided to try and befriend reader for information but almost immediately decided this is their new son/baby brother. While they follow him around even trying to get reader to quit his solo act and join them, reader just wants nothing to do with them, especially because the saja boys baby him.

Just imagine the internet going insane with theory’s about reader being related to the saja boys and the saja boys hinting at it while reader trys to clear the rumors. The boys probably wanting their king to make reader a demon

↳ Songbird of HUNTR/X the Saja Boys.

A K-Pop Demon Hunters × Young-Teen, Male Idol! Reader.

Requester: @vampirnico.

Characters Included: Jinu, Abs, Romance, Baby, and Mystery Saja.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Mentions of stalking, hints of murder (not explicitly said though), delusion, hinted obsessions, and cyber-stalking.

A/N: The Reader is inspired by Stray Kid's Hwang Hyunjin. Specifically, his appearance in this picture: link. Also, some things in your request weren't explicitly put it, but I believe I got them all. Sorry if I missed anything. Hope you like it!

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

🎤 JINU. He views hard work as an admirable quality in someone, especially in the people he holds dear. So, when he went up to the surface to scope out how he and the rest of the boys could invade the Idol Industry, he had appeared at one of your concerts. He saw how devoted and hardworking you were, and he began to watch over you like a hawk. Did he take the form of his bird to stalk you? Yes. Who knows? He does love babying you once befriended, seeing it as a second chance to be a better older brother. Hates how close you are the Hunters, wants them out of the picture and you to become a demon to be by his side forever. He's the best at talking to you, but still fails at convincing you to quite your solo performances and join the Saja Boys.

💪 ABBY. This guy is known far and wide for his physique, and when he saw how devoted you were to your own in order to please the fans, he felt a pride he never thought he'd feel. He was the slowest to get close to you, mainly due to his issue of his shirts always showing his abs and distracting you from your work; which annoyed you to no end. He stalks you the least, always making sure you know he's there and watching. Abby hints the most that you're related, and gets slightly upset when you deny the claims and describe him as "just a friend, no blood relation whatsoever." He fails at convincing you to join the Saja Boys the most, never really good at talking to you without messing up his words. 💖 ROMANCE. He loves how devoted you are to your fans, seeing it as destiny that you were meant to be brothers. He does not take kindly to the others claiming to be your brother as well, so whenever asked by interviewers or fans, he says they're "just like brother-figures while he was more of a blood-brother." This leads to rumors which you turn down. It's because of Romance's words that HUNTR/X actually begins to block contact from them more, trying to keep you safe. Romance doesn't view watching you from the shadows as stalking, he sees it as protecting his family. And if you catch him watching, he plays it off as if he's ran into you. But, you don't think two people can run into each other backstage like you would in the grocery store. ☄️ MYSTERY. Mystery is the one who is always clinging to you, barking and growling lowly at anyone surrounding you that he got even the smallest amount of bad vibes from. Especially HUNTR/X. During the meet-and-greet for example, when a fan brought a photograph of you and the girls for each of them to sign, he gritted his teeth and balled his hands in fists in anger. Doesn't verbally claim to be your brother, but doesn't deny the claims in the slightest. Fans only suspect you're related because of your shared quality of hiding your eyes; you doing it because of your scar and him doing it for... unknown reasons. Does want you to become a demon, but wouldn't force you. He likes your humanity quite a bit, surprisingly. Stalks you the most, and is the best at doing it because he knows how to be silent and blend in with his surroundings, despite his bright-colored hair. 🎼 BABY. Hates the Hunters as much as the others, but hates the fact that you're extremely close to them more. If any interviewer asks if you're dating one of the HUNTR/X girls, he shrugs and passes it off, saying you're just friends and "wouldn't abandon your brother is such a way." When asked to clarify if you're actually biological brothers or just friend-brothers, he shrugs and tells them to "make an estimated guess". Rumors spread, you clean up the mess, and you begin to have animosity between the two of you. Baby also stalks you the second-most, not physically though. He tends to stalk your socials more, ghosting in a fake account and only reacting to certain things; hiding himself well between the thousands of interactions of fans. He doesn't try convincing you to join the Saja Boys a lot, the topic only comes out when you question your life as a solo-artist. But, no matter how down you are, you always turn his offers to join his group down.

"Hey!" Zoey calls from the door of the elevator. In her hands is a tiny, dog-edible cake. Your long-haired chihuahua barking happily as his tail wagged, tiny pieces of his fur moving like a wave of seawater on the shores.

"Hey, Zoey! How have you been?" You asked when inside.

"Perfect! Actually, I've been working on the collab between HUNTR/X and 'The Prince'!" She exclaimed, holding up one of her journals after putting the dog-cake down on the counter.

"Sounds nice. Can't wait to actually start performing. The fans are gonna love this, no doubt."

Hearing two voices call your name, you looked behind you. Walking in from the hall was Rumi and Mira, who were in their comfort clothes, much like Zoey. You smiled and embraced the two, only stopping when you heard Zoey turn on the TV.

"BREAKING NEWS: IS SOUTH KOREA'S YOUNGEST MALE IDOL RELATED TO THE HIT NEW BOY BAND THE SAJA BOYS' MEMBERS? MIN-SEO IS ON THE CASE." You heard the host say.

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you sat down on the couch beside the black-haired idol. She was confused; the Saja Boys were demons, how would you be related to them?

Rumi and Mira on the other hand were upset. This was no doubt not the first time you've heard this, based on your reaction.

The purple and pink haired girls leaned on the couch from behind and watched as an interviewer named Min-Seo asked the demonic boy band questions.

"So, there is a rumor going around the fans that one of you boys, or all of you according to some, is related to hit solo artist 'The Prince'. Is this correct or just another rumor?"

The boys each chuckled and glanced at each other, their eyes each flashing golden yellow before they spoke back to the woman.

"Depends." Jinu began. "What do they mean by 'related'. Musically or biologically? Because, answering such a question is quite frankly difficult without..." He fake pondered. "Details."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt your dog curl up on the couch in between Zoey and you. His soft fur just barely touching your balled-up fist.

"I believe what they mean by is blood related." Min-Seo clarified, obviously oblivious to their taunting.

"Might have to take a DNA test on that. But, you never know, I guess." Romance said, his lips rested upwards in a delicately-crafted smile. "After all... there are always possibilities to every rumor."

Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you pressed the app directly to your manager. Texting him furiously to let out a statement as soon as possible that the rumors were false along with the results from the DNA test you had taken literally a couple days prior when they got back.

He agreed and told you it was on the top of his to-do list, and wished you luck in this scenario. Thanking him and hearing the TV turn off along with feeling three pairs of arms wrap around you from behind, you smiled.

"Don't worry," Rumi said. "I'm sure this'll all pass over soon."

"Yeah." Zoey agreed. "Rumors rise and fall. Kind of like a balloon!"

Mira chuckled. "Besides, they've asked us quite a bit if we were related. That's passed, this will too."

"Thanks girls." You said, hugging them back as best as you could before they pulled away and took deep breaths.

"You want some Ramyeon? It's your favorite flavor~" Rumi said, pointing towards the kitchen. Now, you could smell the noodles and broth. And it was true; it was your favorite flavor.

Nodding as you stood up and whistled for your pup to follow you, you agreed.

You loved these girls like your older sisters; thank goodness you were there with them and not alongside those teasing and taunting Saja Boys.

Unbeknownst to you, they were always there. Watching. Waiting. And planning for your rise into demon-hood, whether you wanted it or not.

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paulyenvol6 · 1 day ago

Text

Fuck The Cold

Based on this amazing request. I loved the idea and I'm really happy with the outcome, so I hope you're going to like it too. Enjoy :)

Joel and you are stuck in a cabin during a storm and he finds that there is only one way to prevent himself from freezing to death...

Contains: smut, dubcon/noncon, corruption kink, power imbalance, manipulation, p in v, creampie, oral (m receiving), deepthroat, gagging, fingering, rough sex, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, implied age gap, mentions of free use, dom!Joel, naive and subby reader, nicknames like babygirl/baby/sweetheart/slut (once), praise, description of physical discomfort and pain, psychological distress, possessiveness

Wordcount: 6,757

Masterlist

The wind was howling outside and it reminded you of a whole orchestra playing just for the two of you.

At least there was no one else in a circle of at least 5 kilometers.

If only the the wind would play a lovely, peaceful tune instead of rattling against the wooden walls of the small cabin as if the thunder wanted to personally tear down the shelter. But right now the storm seemed to have a clear goal and that was to get Joel and you out of the cabin, expose you to the horrible weather outside and peel the rotten layers of wood planks off, one by one. The storm was haunting you, creeping around the corners and shaking the building almost human-like. To say it was scary was an understatement.

"Joel?" you spoke against the darkness and the banging in your ears, just to get him to talk and distract you from what was waiting outside. But he didn't hear you.

"Joel?" you shouted again, not eager to get up from the couch now that you had huddled together like a cat.

"Yeah?" you finally heard him and involuntarily exhaled. Good. He hadn't left you.

"Are you coming?" you wanted to know, but before the answer came, he was already standing in the doorway. The gleam of the moon that was casting scary shadows alongside the wall to your left made him look tall and broad. Dangerous almost, in the way his hands were resting on his hips, his eyes indistinct, but his jaw sharp under the dim light.

Yet, you had never felt more relieved to see him. Even the moment he had returned to your camp with a jar of fresh water the other day couldn't compare to this. You felt safe, protected, although Joel certainly couldn't do more against the spooky storm outside than you.

"You alright?" he asked, taking a large step toward you so he was standing next to the backrest of the couch, resting one hand on the cushion. "Are you cold?"

You shrugged, unaware of how bad it actually was. When you spent an entire day constantly freezing, at some point you lost the feeling of coldness and discomfort.

"It's gonna be okay," he soothed you nonetheless, briefly running his eyes down your body to search for any wounds or other violations.

"Move a little. It's gonna be a cold night and we gotta keep each other warm."

He didn't pay attention to your big eyes. And neither did his expression shift when you hesitated. Joel circled the couch, kicked off his shoes and when he sank down on it, you had finally made room for him. He was close now, his arm flush against yours and you couldn't deny the way his body heat made its way through the fabric of your longsleeve. It felt good, comforting and warming, yet you shivered at the unfamiliar closeness to him.

Joel wasn't the kind of man who sought solace or proximity with the people around him. All he had given you so far were annoyed glances, an occasional low chuckle that didn't always sound genuine and a rough tug at your bicep once when you hadn't been quick enough to hide from a few raiders in the woods. This was strange and different. Not necessarily in a bad way, but still you needed the next few minutes to get used to hearing his steady breathing so close to you, his smell of walnut and earth thick in your nose.

The moment you finally got comfortable, slightly moving in your seat, Joel turned to you. Not aggressively or angrily, but rather alarmed.

"This ain't gonna be easy," he said and you had to blink, seeing his face so close up for the first time. He had a few freckles on his nose that you hadn't noticed before. His eyes looked different from this angle too. A little darker with a circle around the iris. But maybe this was also because of the eerie light inside of the cabin, lightning bolts coating the sky outside, as well as the walls inside in cold white, almost purple shades.

"What?" you said, unconsciously holding your breath as you stared up to him.

"Survivin'," he spoke, making your heartrate pick up.

No, you had made it so far, this couldn't be the end. You had lost people, cried, suffered, broken down, but always kept going. And now everything was about to end because of a stupid thunder? Wouldn't that be poetic – Joel and you had been the reason for so many peoples' deaths and now you would die from a natural cause… This wasn't at all what you had seen for your end. But Joel hadn't said that you were going to die… He had only said that it wouldn't be easy to survive and when had your life ever been easy?

"What do you mean?" you said, restlessly moving on the couch as nervousness was keeping a cold grip on you.

"I'm fuckin' cold. I know it's my own fault 'cause I went outside again, but I gotta do something if I don't wanna die."

Your breath hitched in your throat, sheer panic blurring your view. He couldn't die. Anything, but this. You wouldn't make it without Joel and there was no doubt about it. In an instant, flashes of memories from the past week appeared before your eyes. The broken truck Joel had fixed and with which you had traveled more than 200 miles before it had eventually given up the spirit. Without him, you would probably still be in Kansas City right now. Or the raiders that had shown up in the forest out of nowhere and Joel had been the one to hear them, not you. You probably would have been killed in your sleep and that would have been a pretty sad ending. Maybe even sadder than dying in this storm. Or on Monday, when you had ran out of food and Joel had shot a deer and secured your dinner. If you wouldn't get lost or get killed by raiders or infected, you would probably starve to death.

Yes, there was no question. You needed Joel for your survival.

"Fuck," you cursed, eyes frantically dancing over the drawer in the corner of the cabin before scanning the whole room for anything to help him.

"Maybe there's a blanket… Or maybe we can make a fire or – or something warm to drink? Or – or do you have any alcohol left, maybe…"

You left the sentence unfinished, not that you actually knew what you were saying. You had gone through a lot these past days, but you couldn't remember ever feeling so scared. You relied on Joel and if his life was in danger, so was yours. You swallowed, the dryness in your throat keeping you from muttering more mindless things. Your eyes were still searching the room as if the key to survival could be found in a corner if you only looked precisely. Like a blanket along with a hot water bottle and firewood were waiting for you.

You were already crawling to the end of the couch to get up and browse the drawer, when you felt a deliberate and large hand holding you back by your arm.

"No. I already looked. There ain't nothin'."

You slumped down, the air driving out of you at the disappointment.

"Really? Have you also looked in the drawer?"

"Yeah. I have."

The next thing you knew, tears swam in your eyes and you flexed your hands into fists. You were so angry, so infinitely furious that you were punished over and over again in your life and sometimes you caught yourself wondering what you were even getting punished for. Losing Joel would definitely be one too much.

"Just lie down, little one," Joel murmured as he roughly pulled you down until you were back in your original position.

"But you – we gotta do somethin', right?" you whined, your voice shaking from the panic and frustration you felt, but Joel just tilted his head and chewed on his bottom lip, observing your face like he was looking for something specific.

"Yeah. I needa warm up if I don't wanna die. C'mere, come a 'lil closer, will ya?"

His voice was hoarse and raspy, but it felt different to what it usually was like talking to him. The rolling of his eyes was absent, as were the baring of his teeth and the way he would barely look at you for more than a second. Right now, his eyes were fixed on you, lingering on your face, and never letting you out of his sight.

"But we gotta do somethin'…," you almost begged him, pupils dilating when you felt him wrap an arm around your back.

"Yeah, I know, I know…," Joel whispered, exhaling when you were pressed to his side. "We're gonna do something, don't ya worry…"

"Joel?" you spoke quietly, but sharply because you were simply confused. What was he doing and why didn't he take this as seriously as you did? This was first and foremost about his life and his well-being and wasn't he usually the one to take the reins and fight for both of your survival?

"Shh… You don't want me to die, do you?"

You shook your head with a frown. What kind of question was this? Was it a test, a way to see whether he had taught you well and you knew how to deal with a situation like that? If yes, it was a pretty damn mean test, playing with your fears like that.

"You don't want me to freeze to death?"

Another shake of your head, a little more relaxed now, yet suspicious. Maybe Joel still had a grip on everything, just like he always had. Maybe he had an idea, a solution that would prevent you from ending up all alone in this cruel, cold world that was unraveling itself once again right now in the form of a frightening thunderstorm.

"Then we gotta warm each other up, little one. We gotta heat up by bein' close to each other. Gettin' each other hot."

He grinned at his words, a corner of his mouth lifting, which lightened your mood a little, although you were still stuck on his words. What was he trying to say…?

"What do you mean?" you whispered, feeling irritated and stupid.

Yes, you were slow, but you were trying your best to follow him even though Joel wasn't making it easy for you. You felt like a child not being able to catch up to the adult and instantly wanted to slap yourself the moment the question had gone past your lips, but now it was too late to shove them back inside your mouth. Joel chuckled softly and this time he didn't sound sarcastic, but rather amused.

"Ohhh I really have to speak out everything, don't I? C'mere."

Before you could blink with your eye, Joel had pulled you even closer, your shoulder against his chest and his chin lightly brushing over your head.

"As I said, we gotta warm each other up. 'Cause I don't wanna leave this world just yet and I don't think you want that either. So we're gonna keep each other company, make each other feel good and then make it through the night."

His arm around your waist moved, the rustling of clothes loud in the air, but you were too stunned to realise what he was doing until his cold, large palm touched your naked skin on your side. You shrieked, head rapidly turning to find his gaze, which was lingering on your stomach and didn't even shift at your wide eyes desperately staring up to him.

"Feel that? That's how cold my body's gotten. S'not gonna end well if I do nothin'."

You just waited. There was nothing else you could do. Your body felt numb, your limbs heavy and the blood in your veins pulsing. And then there was your brain, a mushy mess and somehow it felt like there were a million thoughts racing and no thought at all. But you had to think, you had to figure this mess out, but it was hard when your mind seemed to have stopped. At least you couldn't form a coherent thought.

Joel used this moment of hesitation to slip a hand under your shirt, gently caressing your stomach and moving his other hand to your hips to adjust you snug against his broad torso. Everything about this was strange and wrong – this man was almost 20 years older after all – but at the same time, wasn't it worth it? Wasn't his life worth it? Thus far, Joel had always been kind to you, he had protected you and kept you safe even though he didn't have to do it. And not only was his survival clearly necessary for yours, but you also believed that he wouldn't harm you. What if this physical closeness was all he needed to stay warm right now and in a few minutes you would be calm, knowing that Joel was feeling better. These were just his hands exploring your body a little and if he had to do it in order to help his own body, then you would gladly let him.

This was Joel. He knew what he was doing and he knew what he needed.

Therefore you relaxed, or at least tried to.

His hand on your stomach moved in that very moment, slowly traveling up your body until he reached the underside of your breasts, touching you draggingly and carefully like the sensuality of his touch was important for the desired warming effect.

"Yeah, lemme feel those tits," Joel growled in your ear, softly kissing your earlobe and then sprawling out his hand on top of your chest.

"Good girl. So soft and pretty for daddy. Already feelin' better, babygirl. You're helpin' me a lot like that…"

The way he was talking to you unsettled you, but at the same time the latter part of his sentence gave you hope. You had made the right decision, it seemed, Joel was feeling better and he surely would make it through the night if you only allowed him to create heat by touching you. Maybe this would even be all it took, just his hands roaming over your body a little and rubbing your warm skin - compared to his icy.

"That's g-good. Wanna help you," you managed to press, but the last word turned into a gasp, feeling his fingers twist your nipple.

"Joel," you breathed, searching for his pupils in the dark in sheer confusion.

"Shh," he hushed you, kneading your flesh and soon adding his second hand as well. By now, you were relatively calm under his hands and he didn't seem to figure it was necessary to hold you down by your hips.

"It's alright, just keep still f'me. You just take it. Help daddy to feel better, right?"

This time you didn't answer, but something made you believe that you wouldn't have been able to, even if you had wanted. Two hands were massaging your breasts now, digging into the softness and warmth of your flesh, jiggling them in his palms from time to time and paying extra attention to your nipples, which were stiff and hard by now. You didn't know what was happening to your body, could only feel stunned if you thought about how innocently you had lay next to Joel 10 minutes ago and wondered how things could have shifted like this.

"Joel," you moaned, eyes frantically searching for his and the light in it, but there was just a pair of black irises traveling down your body.

"I said shh. You wanna make daddy feel better, don't you?"

He didn't even wait for your answer. He gently took your wrist and pushed you toward the edge of the couch, gently, but like he was making clear that there was no room for second thoughts. You nodded while Joel was bringing your hand to his center.

"Can you feel it?" he asked, inhaling your scent with his eyes closed and his breath ragged.

"What?" your trembling voice cut through the air, your body stiff and a little shaky.

"Feel how hard I am for you, babygirl? If you really want daddy to feel better, you should take care of it. It's gonna distract daddy from the cold…"

You felt stupid being unaware of what he was asking of you. Taking care of it, yes, you wanted to do this, but you had a feeling that you wouldn't be able to without any further instructions. Therefore you hesitated, waited for his mouth to open again and fortunately it did.

"Get on the floor. Kneel."

A muscle next to your eye twitched.

"B-But aren't we gonna be cold if our bodies are not pressed together?" you wanted to know, head swirling and heart pounding. A cold shiver ran down your spine as Joel softly cupped your chin, the gesture almost suspiciously gentle.

"It's gonna be so good for daddy that he's gonna forget all about the cold. And you'll be fine too. Once I warm up your throat, you won't think of anythin' beside my dick."

A strong hand wrapped around your bicep and slowly guided you to kneel in front of the couch between his spread legs. The ache instantly spread in your kneecaps and you couldn't prevent yourself from whimpering.

"Hurts," you sniffed and shifted on the floor, your knees painfully scrubbing over the wooden planks no matter how hard you searched for a more comfortable position.

"Just wait and it's gonna be better…," Joel replied, his voice low and raspy and the way he whispered the words made you think of a cat purring. Only that his tone was deliberate, in its content not too commanding, but the sound of his voice made you think that there was no way you could possibly refuse him.

Especially not after his next words.

"Good girl…," he murmurated, giving your chin a light squeeze and fondling with his belt with his free hand.

Your eyes were fixed on his center where a bulge was looming under the rough fabric of his jeans. Once he had shoved his pants down just enough for his hard dick to spring out he reached for your hand again, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his thigh. You felt scared, yet excited. Doubtful, but eager to help Joel and defeat the cold. Right now you were not sure how this was supposed to help him because you had believed that snuggling up to him and sharing your body heat was your best shot, but this? You could now feel a cold breeze creeping up your spine.

"Use your hand," his cold voice made you snap back to reality, your eyes quickly jumping between his angry red tip and his tense jaw.

"Up and down. Like this."

He made you form a fist with your hand and showed you how to glide it up his dick. It felt warm and soft, heavy when you squeezed your hand and a little glitchy once you had smeared his precum all over his shaft. You were in awe, felt fascinated by the way his teeth grinded at this slightest stimulation. The way his eyes pinched shut whenever your grip tightened. Soon a hand had made its way to your hair, not to pull and tug, but just to ground himself from the sensation.

For now, at least. Because then what you were doing wasn't enough anymore. Joel took a deep breath, shook his head like he wasn't fully in the moment and roughly pushed your head toward his center.

"Go on. Take it in your mouth. You're gonna suck on it real good, I know it."

A wry grin played around his lips, but an ugly, bubbly feeling was twisting in your stomach area. This felt so intimate and real, but somehow also degrading. Taking his dick in your mouth? Did you really want to do it? You had had sex before, but you had never done anything like that.

"C'mon, babygirl," Joel sighed, rubbing over his eyes like he was losing patience. "You're not gonna back out now, are ya? Just look at the mess you made all over my dick, someone's gotta clean it up. Just take it in your mouth and I'll take care of the rest."

You hesitated for another brief moment, but then made a decision. Well, if he said it like that? If all you had to do was unlock your jaw and he would do the rest of the work, maybe you would even be able to hide your inexperience.

"Good girl," he commented, deeply exhaling as his dick slid past your lips. The first thing you noticed was his taste that was very distinct and intense, but not in a bad way. You couldn't exactly say what it reminded you of because it was so unfamiliar and like nothing you had ever tasted.

"Good fuckin' girl," Joel growled again, fingers digging into your scalp and his hand leaving no space for you to move at all. He was really living up to his promise because even if you had wanted to do the work, you wouldn't have been able to.

At first, Joel just savoured the way your mouth felt around his length without moving, his tip twitching in the back of your throat, but his cock still. He glanced down at you, lips twisting and eyes glistening, which you would have seen, had you been able to stop blinking. Tears were swimming on your waterline just from this first thrust in your throat, but Joel was obviously far from being done with you. He hummed to himself, giving your head a soft brush with his thumb before rolling his hips and starting to move in your mouth.

"Jesus – oh fuck. That's right, baby. If I had known you had such a nice mouth, I would've done this earlier."

He felt you wriggle, lashes nervously fluttering as you glimpsed up to him. He chuckled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, that was a compliment. Now realx… And let daddy use this throat o'yours."

Two hands were on the back of your head now, pushing and tugging to keep you to his liking while he abused your mouth. Soon your throat felt raw and sore, jaw aching and knees numb from the way they scraped the floor. Your whole body was on fire, but kind of in a good way, if that made sense.

Sure, you would have appreciated a short break to properly catch your breath and move your jaw, but the thought that you were making Joel feel good right now, strangely aroused you. You were the one he was moaning for right now. You were the one that was making his dick throb and pulsate with your lips tightly wrapped around his manhood. Still, you couldn't deny the way you were gagging and drooling all over him, struggling to keep your eyes open and not to get sick. This wouldn't just be disgusting, but also very inefficent considering your limited food supply.

Joel noticed the way you writhed and squirmed, but wasn't quite done with abusing your poor throat yet.

"It's okay, baby," he commented your muffled whimpers and cries. "Don't hold back. I'll be done soon. Want you up here on the couch with me anyways. Just a little longer, alright? Just until my body's all warmed up, mhm?"

You couldn't answer – how could you? – but you forced your body to loosen up, despite the urge to fight and withdraw from his center. Joel took advantage of your new willingness, seizing the opportunity to push deeper, test your limits and linger along your borders to real discomfort.

"That's it…," he grunted, running his hands through your silky hair before finally releasing you.

You pulled off him with a plop, staring at him through blown eyes that reminded Joel of a doll. He reached for your jaw again, examining the remains of his rough treatment on your face and tracing the glistening wetness with his thumb.

"Well, look at that… You did so well, babygirl, and that's the proof right there. Look at me. Yeah… there ya go."

There was this sparkle in his eyes now and it made a coiling heat twirl in your lower belly. There might not be much softness about this man, but there were these moments like this when his eyes brightened up at your sight. When something around his eyes softened.

"Come up 'ere," he whispered next and didn't stop looking at you for once while you made your way onto the couch again. The soft cushions under you felt so much better than the rigid floor and you softly purred when Joel pulled you to crouch next to him.

"Let's get this off, shall we?" he murmured, already toying with the hem of your longsleeve.

"But isn't it gonna be too cold?"

Joel smirked, hands hovering close to your stomach, but he didn't act yet.

"No, babygirl. S'the opposite. It's gonna warm ya up."

"Okay Joel."

You didn't know why you consented, you didn't know why you believed that all of this was the right thing to do, but whenever you hesitated and thought about putting an end to it, you saw Joel in front of you. Lying on the ground, lips purple and skin pale and calloused from the cold. The world would be dark and dangerous without him, even more than it was right now, so the least you could do was have fate that he knew what he was doing.

His hands were swift as he peeled off your shirt. Quick and skillful, but with a certain tenderness about them that caught you off guard. His skin felt rough against yours as always. Years of fighting and physical work had marked and changed it, and the scars and marks couldn't be reversed at this point. It was raw and calloused, his veins prominent and a tan line right above his wrists.

You were staring at his hands so precisely that you hadn't even noticed how your shirt had been tossed behind you by Joel until your nipples stiffened at a cold wind draught and goosebumps rose on your arms. But before you could complain or let alone ask back for the piece of clothing, Joel was already busy with the zipper of your jeans and was the first one to open his mouth.

"We're gonna see if you need some preparation now, babygirl. I'm gonna see if you're 'lil pussy's ready to take me and if not I'm gonna get 'er ready. Lemme take a look, alright?"

You involuntarily moaned at his words, or maybe it was just the sound of his voice. It didn't matter, all you knew was that your underwear was surely soaked by now.

Joel shoved down your jeans and then your panties until they were around your knees, but he was yet to take them off. Perhaps it was his impatience that made him instantly slip a hand between your legs where a slick heat was happily welcoming his touch.

"Jesus, girl… You're fuckin' drenched."

He parted your legs wider with his free hand, biting his lip at the sight of your glistening entrance and then sighing as he trailed along your slit with two fingers.

"What a pretty 'lil cunt. A shame I didn't know what you were hidin' from me all that time. Yes… you're not gonna hide from me from now on, ain't that right?"

You frantically nodded, pressing your lips together as Joel collected your juices on his fingertips and smeared them over your throbbing clit.

"Ah fuck," you whimpered, fighting the urge to press your legs together, but only partly succeeded. As a response, his hand on your thigh clenched hard like he was trying to warn you while simultaneously spreading you wider for him.

"Jesus christ, honey, you don't need preparation, do ya?" He chuckled lowly, his chest vibrating and his jaw tight from the way he grinded his teeth.

"But you look so goddamn pretty like that."

His switched his fingers now, his thumb circling your clit with a precision that made you throw your head back while two thick, long fingers prodded against your entrance and parted your soaked pussy lips.

"S'just what daddy needs, you know? Doin' so well for me, babygirl, makin' me real proud. Just needed someone to warm me up. Needed to feel your heat and touch that pretty 'lil clit. But it ain't enough yet. If we oughta get any sleep tonight, we gotta be close. You said it yourself."

He suddenly pulled back, ignoring your frustrated groan and delivering a soft slap to the inside of your thighs.

"Get on your back. Like this."

Joel guided you to lay down, your head on the armrest of the couch and your eyes glossy from the intensity and overload of it all. He yanked your jeans and underwear down, throwing it behind him just like he had done with your shirt earlier and then settling between your legs.

"If you're gonna be good, you're gonna get my fingers again, sweetheart. Promise."

You doubtfully glared up to him, head swimming and eyelids barely open, but still his words reached through the mushy embrace of your brain.

"Relax. Daddy's gonna fill ya up so good, but you needa be good for me too."

One hand cupped your cheek, thumb tracing over your dimples and the corner of your mouth while his other wrapped around his shaft to drag his tip through your folds. He stopped at your clit, circling it once, then twice before reaching his initial target, your quivering and leaking entrance.

"Good girl," Joel purred, which made you smile softly, although you didn't know what you had done to deserve his praise.

"Relax now. Open up and lemme in, okay?"

You gave him a nod, forcing your hips to relax and taking deep breaths while Joel carefully and slowly started to work himself inside you. There was a light stretch, probably from the fact that it had been years since you had last slept with someone because Joel really was going slow. Maybe he did it for you and for your well-being or maybe because he simply enjoyed entering you inch by inch, but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

"Oh jesus, baby… What a perfect 'lil pussy. You stay right there…"

He palmed your hip, making you stay still for him until he was finally all the way inside you.

"Fuckin' hell, babygirl..."

Joel brushed a strand of hair out of your face, grinning at the drops of sweat coating your forehead and connecting his thumb with your lips as you began to whimper.

"Shhh… No need to whine 'n' complain… Daddy's got ya. Just needa let go."

Suddenly, he moved inside of you, slowly pulling out only to enter you with a sharp thrust. There was nothing left of the initial gentleness, but by now you had almost entirely adjusted to his size, so all it elicited was a loud gasp.

"Oh fuckin' hell… You know who else would enjoy this pussy, baby?" Joel grinned, caressing the side of your face with a softness that didn't match the punishing pace with which he pounded your pussy.

"N-No," you replied and grabbed his underarm for leverage.

"My brother. God… I just know it. He would've fucked your brains out. You would've felt him for days… You're his type, you know? He likes 'em young 'n' pretty… He likes to know that they haven't had anyone bigger than him."

You choked on a cry, the obscenity of his words making your eyes round as coins.

"You haven't had anyone bigger than me, have you?"

"No…"

Joel crookedly smirked again, pressing a brief kiss to your brow before picking up the pace again.

"I know. Anyways, I would let Tommy use ya. I tend to get possessive over what's mine – and you are mine now, pretty girl – but with this… I couldn't possibly refuse him the joy. Maybe I would let 'im fuck you one night and then laugh about the way you can't get your sore body up the next day. And then I'd fuck you again until you don't know your own name anymore. 'Cause this pussy's fuckin' divine. God… I could stay here forever."

You moaned and squealed, your body feeling so warm and pliant under the weight of him that you wondered if he had actually been right. If this was the best medicine against the cold.

As promised, his hand found its way between your legs again, two fingers connecting with your clit that set a slow, yet steady pace.

"Joel…," you couldn't help but moan, hips buckling and palms pressing into the cushions of the couch. Your pussy felt sore, not particulary in a bad way, but you felt how everything started to become too much. The closeness to him, the heat, that was a grave contrast to the wind that made the small cabin shake, his massive cock ramming into your raw cunt and of course the stimulation on your clit.

"Joel, fuck…," you whimpered again, bending your neck and cringing to release the chaos and wild combination of emotions, but without success. He was so deep inside of you, you suspected that you would be able to feel him if you pressed a hand on your lower belly. He was everywhere. He stimulated each of your senses and consumed your entire being.

"Fuck… Fuck, daddy, I… It's too much. I – I can't. Are you still cold?"

A fearful crease was visible between your brows as Joel raised his eyebrows. He couldn't possibly still freeze while all of this was happening. While he was thrusting in you like a man possessed, while he was so snug against you.

"Yes, baby. Still too cold to make it through the night. And you don't want daddy to die, do ya?"

You wailed and wiggled, head thrown to the side, which gave him the opportunity to cover your neck with kisses.

"Oh, shit," you squeaked, slamming your fists on the couch next to you, but Joel silenced you immediately, pressing his large palm onto your mouth.

"Quiet."

You wanted to ask why – it was only him and you in here after all – but he didn't let you, instead skillfully rubbing your clit to bring you closer to your high while entering your aching pussy over and over.

"You're gonna cum soon, sweetheart? Wanna clench so hard around daddy's cock that he explodes inside of ya?"

You could only nod, your eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure and pain alike became almost unbearable. Your body was on fire, at least it felt like that, and you seemed to be aware of every last nerve and muscle contradicting, pulsing, tensing and loosening as Joel made you release. Your back arched off the couch and you had to cough as a strand of hair got caught in your mouth. Joel fortunately noticed and removed it, but neither his hand nor his dick stopped as he guided you through your high.

"Good fuckin' girl… There ya go, just let go f'me. Let it all out…"

He reduced the pressure with which he pressed onto your mouth to hear your little noises, grinning at the way your fists clenched around the blotchy sofa cushions.

It truly was the most beautiful moment and you regretted that it was over so soon. Pure and intoxicating pleasure was still bubbling in your stomach, flowing in your thighs and chest area and leaving a sticky, warm silky feeling that reminded you of honey. Yes, maybe that was a suitable comparison. It felt as though Joel had poured a liter of honey all over your body that was now gliding along your limbs and beautifully tingled on your skin.

You were still processing the heavenly effects of your orgasm, loudly panting and your head dizzy while Joel chased after his own release. His finger on your clit had come to a stop after he had noticed the wiggling of your hips, so he was now fully focused on coming inside of your pussy, his tip already threateningly throbbing.

"Oh fuckin'… Oh god, yeah. Stupid 'lil slut."

The insult was drowned not only by the smacking sound that his balls produced against your wet pussy, but also by the soft and steady rustling noise in your ears. Joel eventually came with another loud "Fuck" and then you felt his warm cum fill you up. It was only now that you truly realised what kind of consequences this could have, but not only was it too late now, but you were also too exhausted to speak up. You just let him empty himself inside you, your pussy deliciously clenching at the tickling feeling and your pussy pulsating and hurting after the rough treatment.

"Jesus," Joel hissed, kissing your sweaty hairline before pulling out of you in one go.

"Oh my fuckin' god… Who would've thought you have such a tight 'lil hole, mhm?"

He trailed along your jawline, softly pinching your chin before crawling off you. You immediately regretted the loss of his weight on top of you, but as you watched him adjust his clothes and grab your shirt and jeans from the ground, you prayed that he would go right back to his previous position once you were both fully dressed.

"Are you warm now, daddy?" you wanted to know, curling up on the couch like a cat and giving him the most innocent deer eyes Joel had ever seen.

He chuckled, closing the zipper of his jeans before approaching you with your clothes in his hand.

"Yes, babygirl. I'm better now and that's all because of you. You made daddy so happy."

He kissed you again – on your mouth this time – and then ordered you to lift your arms so he could pull the shirt over your head. After adjusting it to your upper body, he helped you step into your underwear and jeans, pulled them up your legs and closed the zipper, well-aware that your hands were too weak and shaky to do anything useful with them.

"Can we sleep now?" you asked, gripping his checkered shirt like you were still afraid he would slip away in the wind.

"Of course, sweetheart. I know you must be tired. You deserve some rest now. C'mere."

Joel got comfortable on the couch, his head resting on the armrest now, and then pulled you flush against him. Your back was against his chest and even though you didn't have a blanket, the way he hugged you from behind made you feel protected and comfortable.He draped one arm around your waist, his palm lying flat against your stomach, while he toyed with your messy hair with the other.

"Sleep well, angel," he murmured, lids heavy and his body exhausted from the intense make-out session as well.

"Good night, Joel. And you promise, you're not cold anymore? I… I don't wanna lose you."

The last sentence had been quiet, barely even understandable to him, but it still reached him. Perhaps because he had spent such a large amount of time with you. He knew you, he knew the sound of your voice, the way you articulated yourself, the way your body moved, what your face looked like when you were sad, happy, confused, angry. And now he also knew what you looked like when you were gifted immense pleasure. He grinned, though it must have looked unfitting if you had been able to see him behind you.

"I promise. I'm fine. And you ain't gonna lose me, I swear. Ain't gonna leave my girl alone in this world."

It was this promise that made it possible for you to sleep tonight.

The thunderstorm was still roaring outside, screaming, shouting and crying in every language there was. Any other night, you might have taken the time to listen to it, but not tonight.

Tonight you were content lying so close to Joel, you could hear his heartbeat.

His promise echoed in your head long after you had drifted away, a soft smile lingering on your lips and your body comfortable and warm.

198 notes · View notes

rikisbaddezire · 1 day ago

Note

Hiii, I love your work so much! Can you write a story about childhood friends niki and reader, and there's been sexual tension building for years, and during a movie night they kind of just snap. Sorry for the lack of detail, but I'm not too sure hhow to describe it lol :)

WET DREAMS

note : this was lwk actually kinda fun to write so thank you anon for this suggestion because i had really fun time writing this!! guys i havent finished the end yet and i really don’t want to stress over it so im just gonna release it now (cant leave the anon waiting 💔) ill figure out an ending when im finally finished airing out my drafts

warnings : riki and y/n are lwk perverts, p in v, dry humping, swearing, mentions of hormones, dirty thoughts, mention of wet dreams, no protection, small hand job, i wrote this really weirdly but wtvr, riki is kinda degrading if you squint ig, lots of dirty talk.

RIKI NEVER UNDERSTOOD how much his dreams had influenced him. all it took was a little wet dream of his best friend all the way back grade 9 to absolutely destroy all the friendly thoughts he had of someone he grew up with.

he believed maybe he was just going through puberty. desperate and hormonal was all he felt. suddenly he noticed how short her uniform skirt was, how her breasts had gotten bigger over the years, how curvy her body looked in that tight, teasing, and sexy uniform.

after grade 9 it had taken a while to forget those weird emotions and feelings, but even then he couldn’t help but notice how y/n seemed to notice something was happening with him. she also started acting different and the innocent jokes they would tell each other before suddenly became dirty and flirtatious.

but she couldn’t have been flirting, right?

the thing is during the whole puberty thing, y/n was blown away by his new appearance over the summer. now he was tall, he had muscles and his voice had gotten deeper.

when he’d whisper or even speak to her in that deep, dark, sexy voice, her thighs clenched and her panties soaked.

grade 9 was just a mess of hormones and mixed feelings for the two, and now by grade 12 they had both gotten better, the feelings they felt long before had disappeared.

not anymore though.

riki woke up in a sweat. he was hard. like really, really hard. thanks to that little dream he had yet again. this one wasn’t the same though, this one was more obscene, it felt so real for him and he was panicking because not only were those feelings supposed to be long forgotten, but that they always walked to school together every morning.

there was no doubt she was on her way.

he was contemplating just fisting himself so his little problem goes away faster but his parents would call him down for breakfast anytime soon.

but when he turned over to the other side in bed, there she was right there leaning against his door, drinking a juice box from his kitchen that his parents no doubt gave her like she was some kind of child who was abandoned so he forced himself to stay calm, just like he did in grade 9.

“wh-what are you doing here so early?” he mutters hoarsely, clearing his throat.

she was getting closer to the bed. his eyes widened as she pushes herself off the door going around to sit right beside him in the bed.

dont look down riki warns himself oh god dont look down

but he couldn’t stop his eyes as they slowly drag down to her thighs. her skirt. it was long enough to cover her more intimate parts, but showed just enough for him to conjure up the most dirtiest things in his mind against his will.

“oh yeah, there’s this stupid movie jake and jungwon and sunoo want to watch,” she pauses and groans. “i don’t really want to watch it and they wanted me to ask if you wanna come, i just want you there because i don’t want to be lonely.”

he winces out at the way she says lonely as if he hasn’t had thoughts of sneaking out to her house and just fucking the shit out of her to get those crazy thoughts over with, as if he wasn’t hiding condoms under his mattress, as if he tried not to let his thoughts wander to her when he’s masturbaiting, as if he never wondered what could be underneath that uniform he’s been itching to rip off of her.

“uhh… tonight?” riki manages to inquire, his voice cracking subtly at the word tonight to which she nods and giggles. “i guess i can go. do you want me to pick you up and drive you there?”

“do you want to?” y/ns head tilts to the side, looking up at him with the same pretty eyes that would look as good rolled back as they do in his imagination.

he doesn’t respond. he couldn’t stop himself as his body leans in

the whole day y/n found herself drifting off to the thought of him, and how big his dick really could be. she’d seen the outline before, just this morning she saw his dick peeking out from his shorts.

she was this close to riding him.

during math she was making estimates in her head based on what she’d seen before. how big could that monster of his be? all the times she’d been to his house and accidentally walked in on him, she never bothered to look down.

god she was such a horny teenager.

he was right beside her right now, she was tempted to ask him what the exact measurements are, but in reality they’re just friends. and no matter what they were it would just straight up be a weird question to ask.

their legs were brushing each other due to how close they were sitting and riki could’ve sworn his fingers twitched. and his dick.

school was almost over. just 10 more minutes.

ten more minutes til he’s finally free from school for the day. ten more minutes til she’s in his car. maybe an hour til he can get into that wet pussy of hers.

he decided today he wasn’t going to hold back anymore. riki already had enough watching her breasts bounce around and those little exhausted noises she’d make. god, with how sweaty and tired she looked, made him wish he could make her look that way.

slowly the time passed from 7 minutes

to 6 minutes til he could dick her down.

to 5 minutes til she’d be able to see what monster he’s hiding under those sweatpants.

she couldn’t take it anymore. knees brushing up against his as she turns to him, “whens the homework due?”

y/n mentally cringes at that, it wasn’t even what she wanted to say, but it came out being something totally different then what she could’ve said.

“u-uh sex…” he shook his head quickly, rikis eyes widening at the word that also accidentally fell out his mouth. “fuck! no i mean- its due on friday.”

luckily the bell rings ending the conversation right there. riki and y/n both get up to grab their things. her legs were shaking, and she swore a trail of arousal was following behind her, while riki was so sure the bulge in his pants were visible.

the whole ride was silent, which was very rare for both him and her. all they could hear was the sound of the engine running and the various noise of children or the birds chirping.

all he could think about was fucking into that tight pussy while keeping his eyes on the road. holy shit. his hands clenched around the steering wheel, the grip so tight his knuckles turned white.

he decided to speak up though. “so uh, things have been weird lately between us, huh?”

“yeah…”

“man what happened to us, we were so close and now it’s like we barely ever talk at all.”

he stops at the red light and turns to her, her panties practically soaked in arousal so scared he might even smell it. she almost felt herself come just by his words.

“i can’t lie, i’ve been dreaming of fucking you all night long since grade 9.” his own words make his jaw drop completely. was it too late to take it back? riki looks at her carefully studying how her head whipped to turn to him and how her cheeks flushed almost immediately.

she manages to drag out some words but they were more squeaky. “you’re joking?”

he shakes his head. “i can’t stop thinking about you. i haven’t been able to since grade 9, you used to be so innocent, but fuck ever since you hit puberty its like you’re so fucking naughty.”

“riki. do you even know how attractive you started to look when you hit puberty? you’re voice got deeper and you got more muscular. ive been trying to figure out the size of your dick since grade 10.”

he chuckles at that, his old teasing facade coming back to him. “yeah? you wanna know how big it is or do you wanna see for yourself?”

“fuck, i don’t know just give it to me”

“right here in the car? in the middle of traffic? i knew you’d be such a fucking whore, y/n.”

“pull over so we can get this over with” she mutters to which riki obeys almost instantly. he ignores all the honks from drivers and everything as he practically drives into a ditch.

in the backseat, the car windows were fogged up and the craziest part for them was they weren’t even getting it on yet, all their self control completely gone.

“fuck you’re so fucking hot keep grinding on me show me how much you want this dick.” riki groans out, as her hips rut against his lap. all her moans and whimpers were being swallowed by his messy, lazy, slow kisses.

she whines out as she feels his cock sticking up through their clothes, the only thing keeping their bodies apart. “mgh fuck ill be so good for you riki! i fuck cant stop, so mmh good for me.”

“i’ve been wanting to wreck that pretty pussy of yours since—“

riki’s cut off by a little, “buzz, buzz” in his pocket, which they try to ignore at first but eventually it just gets annoying so he answers. “fuck, jungwon what do you want?” he hisses out, trying to ignore the fact that y/n was still rubbing against his hard pulsing dick.

he sighs out, lying through his teeth “yeah, yeah. we’re stuck in traffic right now, we’ll be there soon.”

y/n moans out, his hand quickly jumping from her waist to her mouth covering the whines that come out of her as her head tilts back.

“so fucking loud for me keep it down, yeah?” he teases her, guiding her hips.

she lets out a cry. not a cry as in oh no am i really dry humping my childhood friend? no this was a oh no im gonna come just from this kind of cry.

and there he was just sitting there talking to jungwon like she wasn’t about to come all over his lap just from rutting against his uniform covered cock.

“uh huh, uh huh, okay we’ll be there soon now bye.” he mutters dryly into the phone. he lifts y/n off his lap and onto the backseat, which elicits a low whine from her throat. “fuck i know, i know just be good for me okay? jungwon really needs us there right now or their gonna watch it without me and you there.”

she scoffs at his words be good for me, though denying the fact that it deep down turned her on would make her look like a fool. “saying be good for me to your friend, childhood friend, even, is beyond weird and creepy”

“what? how is that even creepy?” he grunts out as he crawls over to the front seat and starts to pull out the ditch.

“shut up”

“weren’t you the one whining on my lap earlier?”

“oh my god—! riki shut up”

he just giggles at her flustered state. they were both kind of happy their old banter that had been long gone 2 years ago had finally come back.

but y/n sort of wondered as she glanced at him. if they do go farther than whatever was going on in the backseat earlier. what will that make them?

would they still be friends? were they gonna be awkward again like they were for the past two years? or would this mean that they would maybe admit the feelings that definitely went way past the sexual tension they had for years.

“holy shit what took you guys so long, finally you guys here.” sunoo sighs out in relief, almost dramatically.

y/n and riki stop in their tracks, heads slowly turning to look at each other. riki felt amused subtly letting the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “oh uhm traffic, yeah traffic was really bad today.” he pauses for a second before turning and sitting onto the couch, legs spread and everything. “are we gonna start the movie or what?”

they both came to a realization that they couldn’t focus on that stupid movie that was playing in front of them. not when they could feel the heat of each other’s body radiating off each others skin. she was debating heading to the bathroom and risk getting cornered by riki. but she wanted that after all, they did have some unfinished business to get to anyway.

either way, she stands up without warning and heads straight to the bathroom, but as she turns to close the door, a foot stops the door from fully closing. “don’t we have some business to finish, y/n?”

god the tone in his voice. fuck. she can feel herself dripping onto the floor. “we do have some business to finish, but not here—”

it was too late for his mouth moved lazily and slow against hers, cutting her off. he didn’t even need to look back his foot kicked the door closed and his hand came down from her jaw to lock it. “fuck, ill be so good, ill be so slow” he babbles into her mouth. “so slow you’ll beg me to go faster on you.”

his hands were wrapping her legs around his waist.

all she could do was swallow her moans, slightly whimpering at him. he grabs her hips putting her up on the sink’s counter. “how big is it?” she whispers between kisses.

“fuck why don’t you go and see for yourself, y/n?” riki tilts his head back as she pulls down his pants. “you know how long i waited for this? i’m so hard for you— o-oh shit! what the hell are you doing with your hands, why does it feel so good?”

she giggles as he tries to speak through his whimpers and pants. “aww, do you like this riki? yeah? where’s all that teasing going? so hard and you’re not even inside me yet…”

he shoots a glare at her, but fails too as his face contorts back to an expression only one could call pure pleasure. the noises he made, fuck he sounded so good. she didn’t think riki would make so many noises, but holy fuck was she wrong because he was loud.

it took a few minutes to get him to come, and she practically teases him through the whole thing purposely because she knew he would try to fuck her hard as payback.

she hesitated a little asking this question, only cause she was a bit terrified of being bullied by him or make him think she isn’t cool, she speaks up either way though “you have a condom, right?”

riki’s eyes widen as he looks up from undoing her pants, some hair falling onto his eyes. he shakes his head slowly. “no… but come to my house tomorrow morning and i promise my mom will have some plan b.”

she nods as he undoes her uniform skirt, his eyes immediately falling on her soaked panties. he can’t help himself as his finger runs down her clothed pussy, feeling her puffy folds. “fuckkk…” he groans out in arousal.

“i just want you to fuck me. cmon fuck hurry up” y/n rushes, pulling her underwear down to her ankles. he lines himself up, and then slowly but steadily pushes in. his mouth drops open, wide with a small whine coming out. “oh my god, im inside my best friend.”

“please stop talking and fuck me.” she whimpers softly as he pushes himself to the hilt.

he groans, pulling out a little bit before slamming back in, one hand holding her thighs open and the other gripping roughly on her shoulder. “fuck fuck so tight you want this fucking dick”

she can’t control herself, she’s moaning out and they’ve just started. “want it so bad— ughm fuck!”

he begins rolling his hips nice and slow, just trying to spread and work open her tight little pussy. he grunts a bit each roll of his hips. he wanted to keep it nice and slow first and then slowly start fucking the shit out of that tight spot inside her.

“fuck is it right there? right where you’re clenching me?”

“i don’t fucking know just don’t stop” y/n whimpers as his pace picks up slowly. the force of his body slamming against hers slowly started to make the counter creak. “i wanna fucking break your back. shit, what would you tell your parents if they asked you why you’re walking funny? say that your best friend fucked the shit out of you?”

“aah… f-fuck yeah.”

“knew you’d be such a fucking whore for me.”

each thrust was harsh and it began to be a repetitive noise of her body falling back onto the countertop mixed with the slow, heavy slapping noises.

her hands gripped his uniform tie almost undoing it from how hard she was clutching it for purchase. “you’re so slow, fuck me faster! fuck! im close!” her whines echo with the sound of their bodies combined and her hips move with him almost instinctively.

“so loud, fuck… you want jungwon and sunoo to hear how fucking good your pussy is?” he grunts out. letting out a sharp hiss, his head tilts to the side as he takes a drag out her wet, tight walls before burying himself deep inside her, his tip obliterating her cervix.

“agh fuck! riki dont stop i-i-im coming!” y/n tenses up with the weird feeling in her lower stomach making her cry out more. loud whines and whimpers erupt from her throat as he rides her through both their orgasm. a white sticky mess was left on the table as the result of their pleasure.

it took a while for them to get ready to leave and hopefully sit back down without any problems knowing jungwon and sunoo liked running their mouths, but she stops him. the words rush out her mouth almost immediately as he turns. “riki, what does this make us?”

his heart stops. why didn’t he expect this question? he just fucked his fucking childhood friend. “uhh… do you want to date me then?”

she scoffs out at his response. “really riki? not even going to tell me you’re madly in love with me? just gonna put out a question like im forcing you?”

“okay then what do you want to hear? ‘oh y/n, i couldn’t stop thinking about you for years and now i want you to date me and maybe be my occasional fucktoy.”

“anything but the last part, you’re so weird.”

she was definitely aroused though.

190 notes · View notes

starryjake · 2 days ago

Text

comfort | w.y & b.e

in which your best friends find a way to make you feel better after your breakup.

pairing: best friend!nicholas x fem!reader x best friend!euijoo

includes: threesome obviously, MXM CONTENT SO DONT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE (they just make out), oral sex ( f and m receiving), cum eating, unprotected intercourse, nipple play, cumming inside, (lmk if i forgot anything!).

“i’m really worried about her,” ej said to nicholas, the two of them standing outside your apartment.

ej was carrying a bouquet of flowers and nicholas had a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. they’d knocked on your door a minute ago, but you still haven’t come to answer it.

“she doesn’t see it now, but it’s for the better,” nicholas said. “that guy was an asshole.”

“i know,” ej agreed. “i don’t understand how anyone could cheat on her. she’s so—”

the lock clicked on the other side of the door, so ej shut himself up before you could open it to find them talking about you.

“there she is,” nicholas said warmly. “how are you?”

“never better,” you lied, stepping to the side so they could come in. “you guys didn’t have to do all this.”

“we wanted to,” ej responded, handing the flowers to you as he walked in.

“this is really sweet,” you said with a sigh, bringing the floral arrangement up to your nose and inhaling their fresh scent.

“i brought wine,” nicholas said from the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets for glasses. “figured that could come in handy.”

“that sounds perfect,” you said.

within a few minutes, the three of you were gathered in your living room, each holding a glass of wine. ej and nicholas graciously sat there and listened to you rant.

“i just can’t believe he would do this to me,” you gushed, your eyes watering. you stared down into your glass of wine, continuing. “was our entire relationship a joke to him? was i just a joke?”

“of course not,” nicholas said.

“he’s an idiot for doing that to you,” ej insisted, scooting over to sit closer to you. he placed a hand on your thigh and said, “no one in there right mind would cheat on you if they had you. he was crazy.”

his words meant a lot to you. for weeks now, you had been heartbroken thinking about your failed relationship. you’d cancelled on all your friends, not just nicholas and ej, unable to find it in you to hang out with anyone. but now that they were there, you were beyond glad.

“it just sucks,” you mumbled, quickly dabbing at your watery eyes.

nicholas came and sat on the other side of you, taking the liberty to brush some of your hair out of your face. he then rubbed your back soothingly.

“i know,” he cooed. “is there anything we can do to make it better? anything at all?”

you sniffled, pondering the question.

“you could beat him up,” you joked. nicholas and ej exchanged serious glances with each other. “guys, i was kidding.”

“we’d do it, though,” ej said, his thumb gliding back and forth on your thigh. “anything you need, y/n, you name it and we’ve got you.”

you smiled softly, grateful that you had friends as good as them. friends who were willing to beat up the guy who’d put you through hell, just to make you feel better.

“thank you guys,” you said, your voice soft.

both of them were right there beside you, both their hands on your body in some way, both staring at you like they could see your soul. you were intimidated, despite having known them both for years and trusting them with your life.

you looked over at ej, finding comfort in the way his big brown eyes looked you over protectively. then over at nicholas, who’s sharp eyes were dark and serious, ready to make things right for you however he had to.

you suddenly had a weird feeling in your stomach. heat was spreading throughout your body, and you had to push your thighs together to ease some of the tension that was building.

why the hell were you feeling…turned on? over your two best friends of all people?

you sighed, then said, “i must’ve had too much wine.”

they both glanced over at your glass. you’d only really had about two sips. you couldn’t blame the way you were feeling on the alcohol.

“why do you say that?” nicholas wondered.

“‘cause i feel…”you trailed off, unsure if you should be telling them that you suddenly felt turned on. “weird.”

“weird how?” ej asked.

“i don’t know, i…”

you trailed off again, overcome with embarrassment. they both knew how you were feeling. it wasn’t hard to tell based on the way you were so obviously squeezing your thighs together. but they wanted to hear you say it.

“what is it?” nicholas urged. “do you feel okay?”

“yeah, i feel okay,” you assured. “i don’t know. you guys probably don’t wanna hear about it.”

“hey, we’re here for you,” ej cooed, squeezing your thigh slightly. “we’re your best friends. you can tell us anything.”

you looked over at nicholas, and he smiled reassuringly, which gave you the strength to admit your current predicament.

“i just kinda got…turned on,” you finally admitted.

a silence dwelled in your living room.

you immediately brought your knees up to your chest, knocking both their hands off of you, and hid your face in your hands.

“sorry,” you groaned, hiding from them as best as you could. “i don’t know. i’m a mess. i shouldn’t have said that.”

“hey,” ej said, his hand coming firmly to your back. “look at me.”

you shook your head, too mortified to let them see your face. still, ej pushed your hands out of the way, revealing your blushing face to both him and nicholas.

what you weren’t expecting was ej to smile sweetly at you before leaning in and kissing you. his hands came up to cradle your face, and you immediately melted into the kiss, sighing into his mouth.

you were already starting to sweat from how turned on you were. you brought your hands up to his neck and brought one of them into his hair, tugging softly on the dark strands.

you both mutually pulled away from each other a moment later, staring at each other in shock. that was when you remembered nicholas was still sitting right there next to you.

his face was serious as ever, but you could see the hint of a smirk creeping up. you could also see an evident erection in his sweatpants from watching you and ej make out.

“do you wanna do this?” he asked.

“do what?” you wondered.

“do you want us to make you feel better?” ej intervened.

you gulped. you barely hesitated before nodding your head.

“use your words, baby,” nicholas instructed.

“yes,” you answered confidently. “i want to feel better.”

nicholas and ej smirked to each other, then started to stand up.

“let’s go to your room,” ej suggested.

so, the three of you ditched the wine and the pizza and made your way to your bedroom. it was a short walk to get there, just down the hall, but the entire time you were in your head, questioning if you were really about to have a threesome with your two best friends.

the answer, though, was yes. you sure were.

once the three of you were in your bedroom, clothing started flying off. first was nicholas’ shirt, then yours, then ej’s.

you got on your bed and lay on your back, waiting for the men to join you on either side.

“c’mere, baby,” nicholas said, kneeling by your side.

you sat up on your knees to be more level with him and he pushed his lips against yours. his kiss was harder than ej’s, rougher and messier. you could practically feel yourself dripping in your shorts.

you entangled your fingers in his hair, trying to match his pace.

behind you, ej joined the two of you on the bed. he took the liberty to unhook your bra for you, sliding it down your arms and off your body. nicholas had to pull back then to get a good look at you.

“fuck,” he grunted. “you’re so pretty, baby.”

you blushed, crossing your arms over your chest as a wave of embarrassment washed over you. you were completely shirtless in front of ej and nicholas, and that was terrifying.

“don’t be embarrassed,” ej cooed, softly guiding your hands away from your chest. “you’re perfect.”

he kissed you again, bringing his hand up to one of your tits and squeezing it. you gasped into his mouth as he rubbed his fingers over your erect nipple expertly.

while you were kissing him, nicholas stripped himself of his pants and underwear, leaving him completely bare. his cock was so hard that it stood completely straight up, hitting his lower abdomen.

he wrapped his hand around his thick length and watched you and ej make out for a moment, staring shamelessly.

when you finally pulled away and noticed what nicholas was doing, you wanted to help. you crawled over to him, slowly pushing his hand out of the way and replacing it with your own.

nicholas leaned back on his palms and watched you stroke his length, biting his lip to hold back any noises.

ej took that moment to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, then helped you fully undress the rest of the way while you stroked nicholas.

once all three of you were fully naked, nicholas stopped your hand from jerking him off any further. he guided you to lay flat on your back, and all you could do was watch and see what they were going to do next.

both of them moving at the same time was overwhelming. you didn’t know who to focus on. you had to focus on both of them at the same time somehow.

ej positioned himself with his face between your legs while nicholas kneeled at the side of your head. he rubbed his leaking tip on your lips, guiding his cock into your mouth.

meanwhile, ej leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your clit, stroking your thigh. he licked a stripe up your pussy, tasting your arousal and moaning. you were perfect, he thought. you tasted perfect and your pussy felt so good against the tip of his tongue.

he tilted his head to the side, flicking his tongue up and down your folds. you writhed, gasping and huffing while jutting your hips up against his face.

at the same time, you had to manage sucking nicholas off. he wasn’t being too difficult about it. he let you just lick along his length and suck on his tip. the night was about you after all. he didn’t expect you to deep throat him, not right away anyway.

you could feel ej’s finger as it slid inside your fluttering hole, and you took it with ease. you gasped at the sensation, clenching around the finger and tilting your head back.

“does it feel good?” nicholas asked you, his voice deeper than normal. “is he eating your pussy good?

“yes,” you cried out, looking up at him with glistening eyes. “feels so fucking good.”

ej hummed against your pussy, which made you look down to watch him. he seemed like he was truly content there between your legs, licking and fingering you like it was his job.

he looked so pretty down there too. strands of hair were falling into his face, his cheeks a soft shade of pink and his lips were swollen and glistening with your wetness.

it was hard to concentrate on getting eaten out at the same time as sucking off nicholas. you tried, but ultimately, he had to do most of the work, thrusting his thick length in and out of your throat.

“that’s it, baby,” he cooed, pushing some hair out of your face. “doing so good.”

you were moaning around his cock, vibrating it and making nicholas want to thrust into your mouth even harder. he’d always thought you were pretty, but he thought you might’ve been even prettier when his dick was down your throat.

the way ej was licking you up and down in long, fluid strokes, and back and forth, and in circles was all too much. he was too good, and you were so sensitive. you just couldn’t last.

“euijoo,” you practically whimpered. “i’m gonna cum.”

he moaned into your pussy, squeezing your thighs, like he was wordlessly giving you permission to let go. and let go you did.

you had to pull off nicholas’s length as it hit you, too overwhelmed to focus on anything but the orgasm washing over you. you gripped ej’s hair, nearly sobbing as you came all over his tongue.

“fuck,” ej nearly growled. “so hot, baby. she tastes so good.”

nicholas raised his eyebrow.

“yeah?” he said.

a silence fell upon the three of you then. nicholas and ej blinked at each other. it seemed as though you were all thinking something.

you, personally, were slightly nervous to speak your mind. you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable or ruin anything, but you decided to speak up anyway.

“you wanna taste me?” you asked nicholas, who directed his attention back to you then. “you guys should make out. you’ll be able to taste me on him.”

ej and nicholas briefly met each others gaze. you couldn’t read their expressions, so you were unsure whether they were on board with the idea or not. you just hoped you didn’t make them uncomfortable.

“you want us to make out?” ej asked, slowly sitting up on his knees.

“well,” you stammered, nervous. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. it was just an idea.”

ej smiled down at you before looking back over at nicholas. the corners of nicholas’ lips raised ever so slightly, and you just knew that he was into it.

with both of them on either side of you, they attached their lips together, clearly putting on a show just for you. you sat yourself up slightly, watching in awe without sparing a single blink.

the way they were kissing, so fluidly and in sync, made you question if they’d done it before. the way their hands found their way into each other’s hair felt rehearsed.

the idea turned you on. them kissing right in front of you turned you on. all you could do was watch your two best friends as their kiss turned messier by the second, their tongues both coming into play.

“mmm,” nicholas moaned against ej’s mouth. “she does taste good.”

they pulled back from each other after another minute, looking down at you to see your reaction. you were still just staring at them in awe, wishing you could get between them even more so than you already were.

“c’mere,” ej commanded.

you sat up on your knees like them. ej grabbed your waist and held you flush against his chest before kissing you. nicholas, from behind you, brought his hand down to your pussy and started rubbing you.

you were still sensitive from cumming, your knees buckling slightly. nicholas held you up with his arm around your waist, kissing the back of your neck.

you dug your fingers through ej’s fluffy hair and tugged on it, moaning into his mouth as nicholas massaged your pussy, your pussy that was just aching to be filled by one of them, or better yet, both.

eventually, nicholas grabbed you by the waist and pulled you from ej, laying you down on your back. the two men, both so much taller than you, knelt by your side. you were intimidated and even nervous, but way more excited for finding out what their next plan with you was.

“there’s so much i wanna do with you,” nicholas said, his eyes dark as he scanned your body. “i don’t even know where to start.”

“i’ll give you an idea,” you responded, looking up at him with big eyes. “i need one of you inside me.”

nicholas and ej met each others eyes again, like they were able to communicate telepathically. you want to be let in, to know what they were thinking.

suddenly, nicholas was spreading your legs wide enough to make room to fit himself between them.

“want my dick, baby? is that what you want?” he asked you, stroking your inner thigh, which was shaking ever so slightly. “want me to fuck you?”

“god, nicho,” you cried. “please, i need it so bad. it hurts.”

“it hurts?” said ej, who was at your side. he caressed your face, pushing strands of your hair out of the way. “we’re gonna make it feel better for you, baby. don’t worry.”

you looked up at ej with big eyes. he brought his hand down to your chin, then slid his thumb into your mouth. you sucked on it, swirling your tongue around it.

it was then that nicholas lined the tip of his swollen cock up with your pussy, and started pushing in.

you clenched your eyes shut, moaning around ej’s finger. ej watched nicholas enter you, pushing himself further and further into your pussy until he couldn’t go anymore.

“fuck,” nicholas shuddered. “oh my god. you’re so warm, baby. so fucking wet and tight.”

ej twitched, wishing he was inside you instead. but he knew his chance would come. he just had to be patient.

he pulled his thumb out of your mouth, letting your moans freely come tumbling past your lips.

“nicho,” you moaned.

“what is it?” he asked. “what do you need, sweet girl?”

“need you to move,” you told him. “please.”

he was quick to listen, pulling his hips back until half of his cock was out of you. then, he pushed back in, feeling you convulse and grip him like your life depended on it.

his pace fastened with each thrust. ej, who could only sit there and watch, brought a hand down to his clothed bulge. he gave himself a squeeze, sighing at the sensation. it wasn’t enough, not even close.

“come here,” you urged, reaching out for him.

he leaned down and you brought your lips together. he sighed into your mouth, bringing his hand up to tweak your nipple and rub it in circles with the tip of his finger.

you couldn’t believe how good you were feeling. you had two of your best friends right next to you, making you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. making you forget all about your shitty ex-boyfriend.

nicholas gripped your thighs and pushed them up to your chest, giving himself more room to thrust harder, and putting you at an angle where his cock hit the deepest part of you, making you see stars.

“fuck!” you yelled out, forced to detach from ej’s lips. “oh my—fuck, it feels so good.”

ej opted to occupy his lips around your nipple instead, sucking on the hard bud and massaging the other one. all you could do was lay there and take it, letting your best friends pleasure you.

“so good,” nicholas growled, losing his mind every time you clenched around him. “can’t believe how good you are, baby.”

you could feel your high approaching in the base of your stomach, like a wave at its peak. then, it all came crashing down.

you couldn’t even warn him as you started to cum around his cock. you just threw your head back and choked out a sob, tugging ej’s hair as nicholas fucked you through it.

“that’s it, baby,” ej cooed, watching you cum closely. “so fucking pretty when you cum.”

nicholas was staring: at your face, at your tits, at your pussy squeezing desperately around his cock. before he knew it, he was pulling out and jerking himself off to completion.

his load drenched your stomach, but you loved it. it was warm and sticky and all over you.

before you knew it, ej was dragging his fingers through his best friend’s puddle, and bringing his release up to your lips. you happily wrapped your lips around his fingers, sucking nicholas’s cum off ej’s fingers.

“holy shit,” nicholas muttered in awe at the sight in front of him.

once you’d gotten every last drop, ej pulled his fingers from your mouth. the three of you took a second to rest, to catch your breath and calm down.

but it didn’t last long. ej was still bursting through his pants, utterly desperate to get a feel of you.

but of course, he was too sweet and too shy to say anything. all he could do was lay there and watch you, hoping you’d take the hint.

luckily for him, you did.

you moved to straddle ej’s bare lap. he instinctively brought his hands to your waist, watching without a blink as you gripped his cock and lined the tip up with your soaked entrance.

his cock was thinner than nicholas’s, but longer, whereas nicholas was shorter, but the girth filled you up with everything you’d ever needed.

having already been stretched out by nicholas, it was easy to sink down on ej’s cock. but it just kept going. he was so long that he kept filling you, so deep that it felt like he was in your stomach.

“oh my god,” you whispered, planting your hands on his abs. “it’s so deep.”

“yeah?” nicholas joined. “you feel him nice and deep in there?”

“yeah,” you whispered, looking down at ej underneath you.

he was looking back up at your in awe, his nails digging into your hips.

“fuck,” he moaned. “you’re so perfect.”

you couldn’t go any longer without moving, so you raised yourself up slightly on your knees before sinking back down on him, feeling every inch of him fill you up.

you couldn’t go as fast and hard as you would’ve liked, too tired from having cum twice already, but it was a nice change of pace. it was nice to get to fuck ej slow and deep, to really feel all of him.

eventually, he started raising his hips, fucking up into you to help you. it was perfect, and you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging out long moans and whimpers of ej’s name.

he found your hand and held it, squeezing it every now and then again when he hit that spot inside of you.

your bodies lazily melded together, a fluid motion. ej looked utterly delicious under you, red cheeks and swollen lips and messy hair.

and it seemed that nicholas had been thinking the same thing, as he suddenly leaned down and connected his lips to ej’s once again.

“fuck,” you whispered, watching ej’s eyes close and immediately melt into the kiss.

their kiss was hungrier than the first one, more urgent. nicholas held the side of ej’s face, digging his painted fingernails into his hair. ej moaned into his mouth, parting his lips slightly to allow nicholas’s tongue.

you could feel yourself getting closer and closer watching them make out, heat pooling in your stomach.

nicholas trailed his hand to ej’s neck and down his abdomen, scraping his nails along his abs, which caused ej to shudder. he gripped nicholas’s hair, their tongue intertwined.

at that point, you were fully convinced that they’d done this before today.

nicholas pulled apart first, turning his neck to look over around his shoulder at you. he smirked at the shock and desperation on your face.

“look at her,” he snickered. “you close, baby?”

all you could do was nod your head rapidly, too far gone to even think about speaking.

“what about you?” nicholas asked, turning his attention back to ej. “are you gonna cum?”

“y-yeah,” ej sputtered. “fuck, i’m so close. oh my god.”

nicholas watched with eagerness. both of you were about to cum and he was going to get to witness it.

you were barely moving anymore, but just sitting on top of ej while he humped his hips up into you. somehow, that was just enough to push you over the edge.

“ej!” you yelped. “‘m cumming.”

ej watched you fall onto his chest, clenching around him so tight he could barely move. he held you close, quickening his pace until he, too, finally was pushed over the edge.

his entire body tensed as he dumped his load deep inside you, balls tightening as he let go. his grip on you was tight, and you only knew he was finished when he finally loosened his arms around you.

you rolled off of him, the three of you laying side by side in your bed. you were all drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted.

then as you looked to your left, then your right, the realization caught up to you. you just slept with your two best friends. at the same time.

what the hell were you supposed to do now?

a/n: ok so what if i wrote this to help myself cope with a breakup im going through??? SO WHAT!!!!

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jvreaulcver · 2 days ago

Text

HIS LITTLE LIGHT

Billie Eilish x reader

Genre : Fluff

Warnings : None

The backyard was glowing in a soft summer haze, filled with string lights, laughter, folding chairs, and the smell of grilled corn and sunscreen. The Fourth of July was in full swing at your home, and while people wandered between the kitchen and the yard, you were firmly rooted in one spot.

Right on the edge of the porch, sitting cross-legged with your son Kai curled up in your lap.

He was wearing his tiny red Converse sneakers, his favorite “Boom! Zoom!” rocket ship shirt, and a pair of blue noise-canceling headphones covered in Lightning McQueen stickers. His soft curls peeked out from under them, and his eyes were wide as he watched other kids run across the lawn waving sparklers like magic wands.

But he didn’t move.

He just watched. Tight in your lap, his little fingers curled into your shirt.

Billie, your partner—his Mama—was across the yard talking to Finneas, but her eyes flicked back to the two of you every few seconds. Protective. Attentive.

She could feel it too: Kai was nervous.

The first firework earlier had made him jump so high in your arms you thought he’d levitate. Since then, he’d held on tighter than ever. Even now, he watched the glowing sparklers with curiosity that battled his fear.

“They don’t boom,” you whispered in his ear, gently swaying him. “Just sizzle and sparkle.”

He looked up at you with that serious, wide-eyed little-boy expression, headphones pushed up slightly so he could hear you better.

“But they hot?”

“A little, yeah. That’s why you hold the handle and Mommy or Mama helps. You’d never be alone.”

Kai frowned. “Boom-booms bad. Hurt ears.”

“I know, baby,” you said, kissing his temple. “But sparklers don’t boom. They’re quiet. And very pretty.”

He stayed quiet, fingers still resting on your collarbone like a baby monkey.

Billie came over, kneeling down beside the two of you. “Hey, Kai-man.”

He peeked at her through his lashes.

“You want me to show you one up close?” she asked. “I won’t make you touch it. Just watch.”

Kai hesitated… then nodded, slowly.

You smiled as Billie stood up and walked toward the box on the table. She grabbed a sparkler and a lighter, walking carefully back and crouching again.

“Okay. This is the stick. The shiny stuff is the magic part. You ready?”

Kai leaned closer in your lap, still hesitant.

Billie lit the tip—and fshhhhh—the sparkler crackled to life, glowing golden white with a soft fizz.

Kai gasped.

“See?” Billie said gently. “No boom. Just light.”

He stared, eyes wide, little mouth open.

“Wanna hold it with me?” Billie offered, holding out her other hand. “I’ll help. You don’t even have to hold the hot part, just down here.”

Kai turned to look at you. “You come too, Mommy?”

You nodded, heart melting. “Of course I will, baby.”

⸻

A few minutes later, you were crouched beside him, your hands guiding his tiny ones around the very bottom of a fresh sparkler. Billie knelt on the other side, lighting the tip while murmuring, “You’ve got this, big boy.”

The sparkler flared to life.

Kai flinched at first—but then…

Something changed in his face.

The sparks fizzed like fairy dust, soft and harmless, dancing in the summer air. His mouth dropped into a grin, and his eyes lit up in wonder.

“Woaaah,” he breathed.

“You’re doing it!” you laughed gently. “You’re holding a sparkler!”

“Look, Mama!” Kai squealed. “I got da light!”

Billie clutched her chest like she was physically restraining her heart from exploding. “That’s my brave boy!”

He giggled, turning slowly in a circle, waving the sparkler like a wand. You kept your hand under his the whole time, steadying him. And even as the sparkler fizzled out, Kai kept smiling.

“More?” he asked.

“You wanna do another one?” you blinked.

“Yesh! I light it ‘gain!”

You and Billie looked at each other, grinning like fools. A second sparkler was lit, then a third.

This time, Kai stood on his own—still wearing his noise-canceling headphones, still holding tightly to your hand—but glowing brighter than any light in the sky.

⸻

Later, after the fireworks show (which he watched cuddled between you and Billie on a lounge chair, wide-eyed but calm), the guests had started to trickle out, and the yard began to quiet.

You stood in the kitchen, rinsing cups, while Billie carried Kai in.

“He’s finally crashing,” she whispered, smiling as she looked down at his drowsy face.

Kai clung to Billie sleepily, his voice barely above a mumble. “Mama…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I did the light…”

“You sure did.”

“And Mommy holded me… and I did it… I brave.”

You turned from the sink just in time to see Billie get teary-eyed.

“Yeah,” Billie whispered, kissing the top of his curls. “You’re the bravest.”

Kai blinked slowly, his words slurring. “I yuv Mommy sooooooo much. She da best.”

Billie smiled at you, then looked down at him again. “She really is.”

⸻

That night, with Kai tucked between you both in bed, curled into your chest with his dinosaur tucked under one arm and his sparkler stick (now completely burnt out) clutched in the other, you whispered:

“You were so good with him tonight.”

Billie kissed your shoulder. “He just needed both of us. You’re his safe place.”

You brushed Kai’s hair from his forehead. “He’s gonna remember this forever.”

Billie smiled, looking at the quiet rise and fall of his chest. “So will I.”

You held him close, Billie curled into your side, and the stars outside your window dimmed compared to the little boy between you — who, for one beautiful night, lit up the world with something even better than fireworks.

An: Happy Fourth of July to those who celebrate!! Also one of my favorite Billie writers on here liked my fanfic let me go scream into my pillow

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min9yusblog · 1 day ago

Text

mingyu - boy next door

pairing : mingyu / f!reader

summary : you two have been inseperable since childhood, always bickering. little did either of you know, feelings developed as time went by.

word count : 2508

genre : childhood best friends to lovers au, inspired by love next door

flashback (year : 2004)

"y/n!! quick, you're gonna be late!" your mom shouts from the stairs. you scramble as you pack your books into your bag, which your mom had told you to prepare yesterday night.

you run down the stairs, almost tripping. your mom stuffs your mouth with a kimbap before you rush outside, just in time to bump into your next door neighbour, mingyu. mingyu was the same age as you. he was timid, and quite frankly you didn't know how he was going to survive elementary school. the kids in the neighbourhood were always picking on him, and he would never say anything to them.

"mingyu ya, go with y/n if you're scared to walk alone. have a great day at school okay? i love you!" his mom tells him, as he awkwardly walks towards you. you roll your eyes, thinking to yourself- "ah im gonna have to babysit this kid again..."

You cross your arms, sighing loudly as Mingyu adjusts the straps on his backpack like it’s some complicated mission.

“come on, you’re so slow!” you grumble, already starting to walk. “if we’re late, it’s your fault.”

he hurries to catch up, his little legs trying to match your pace.

"sorry...." he softly mumbles, making you feel the slightest guilt.

“yah, why don't you tell the boys to stop messing with you?" you say, as you kicked a small pebble to the side of the road.

"i don't want to fight..." he says again, softly.

"you don’t have to fight, just… say something back!” you tell him.

"i'm not like you,” he replies, almost in a whisper.

you blink.

"what's that supposed to mean?" you ask, curious.

he fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “you're… brave. loud. people listen to you.”

you stop walking for a second, stunned. You, brave?

your chest feels warm. you hate it.

“yah kim mingyu!” you yell, as he turns to you, shocked from your loud voice. “from now on, I’ll protect you, okay?”

he looks up at you, surprised.

“like a bodyguard,” you add, grinning proudly.

mingyu smiles — the first real smile you’ve seen on him since you met him. “okay.”

present day : year 2025

you stare out of your apartment window, watching the rain trickle down the window as your favourite song plays in the background. you had just gotten home 1 week ago, still jetlagged from the timezone change.

for 6 years, you lived abroad in london. you had received a scholarship to study at one of the most prestigious schools there, prompting you to move 9000km away from home. after you graduated, you even landed a job at one of the largest law firms. you thrived there, and all your colleagues loved you. or so you thought.

you had also met a guy, jaeyun, a mutual of one of your coworkers. he was an architect, so both of you had demanding jobs that prevented you from seeing each other often. even so, you made it work. you both knew that at this point in your life, your careers were what mattered to you most, and you liked that there was a mutual understanding between the two of you. 2 years after dating, jaeyun proposed to you. you moved in together shortly after, and life went on. you were happy. content. keyword, were.

as you scooped out the kimchi jigae you had cooked on the stove into a bowl, your phone buzzed.

a text. from an unknown number. as you read the message, your heart sank.

kim mingyu...?

you haven't spoken to him since you left korea. you both had your gone your separate ways after university. different majors, different cities, different people.

you smile, as you start to text back.

your heart sinks, knowing you weren't ready to tell anyone the real reason you were back. you cleaned up your dirty plates, grabbed your bag and left your apartment.

the breeze hit your face as you walked towards the playground you both used to play at as kids. suddenly, everything looked so small. you laugh to yourself, remembering how mingyu used to be so scared of the jungle gym, and how you practically had to save him everytime.

"hey." a deep voice suddenly comes from behind you.

you turn around, and there stood mingyu. he was wearing his grey hoodie and black sweatpants, hair styled like he was about to go for a photoshoot. out of habit, you ruffle his hair, making him roll his eyes.

"ughhhh you always do this!" he says, as he makes his hair all nice again.

you haven't seen him in so long, why does it feel like he got taller? more... handsome? looking at him made butterflies appear in your stomach.

"what are you thinking about?" he interrupts your thoughts.

"huh? oh. nothing." you say.

for the next hour, the two of you talk like there was no tomorrow, telling each other every detail of your lives that you missed. well, not everything.

2 weeks later

you didn't know you missed home this much.

life never felt so good in so long.

you stopped waking up with a knot in your chest. the ache of betrayal turned into something duller, something manageable.

you helped your mom cook, and you started painting again.

most importantly, you spent time with mingyu.

sometimes it was just errands — walking to the mart, buying your sister her milk tea obsession. sometimes he’d show up with ramyeon and say, “wanna watch something dumb?” and sometimes, like tonight, you found yourselves on the rooftop, where you used to sneak snacks in middle school.

you both leaned against the wall, eating ice cream bars under the stars.

"remember when you used to cry whem your mom packed the wrong lunch?” you teased.

mingyu groaned. “i was eight.” he defends himself.

“you're still dramatic.” you say, laughing.

“and you’re still mean.” he scoffs.

you smiled.

he looked at you then, quiet for a moment. “you were gone a long time.”

you nodded. “i know.”

"you know, you can tell me if there's something on your mind. you were always there for me when we were kids, so i guess its time to pay you back."

"what do you mean? there's nothing on my mind!" you say, sniffling a little.

"dumbass. i've known you practically your whole life. you didn't think i would've known something was up with you? you've been acting weird ever since you came home."

"weird? like what?" you say.

"like.. you don't smile as much as you used to anymore. you barely talk about london, and you pretty much avoid any and all conversations about your fiancé. even when we hang out, you seem... distant. like you're carrying this weight alone and you don't want to burden us."

you looked down, biting your lip, feeling the lump in your throat grow.

“maybe i don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered.

he reached over, gently brushing your hand.

“hey, you don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready. but you don’t have to pretend with me, okay? you've always been my best friend.”

you swallowed hard, a tear escaping down your cheek.

"i came back because i have no one there. i just... life was terrible there. i was so unhappy. gyu, i- i.. it got so bad i had to take a break from work." you say, softly.

"no one? what about jaeyun?" he asked, confused.

"i caught him cheating on me with a coworker of his... thats why i left. its why i came home." you say.

mingyu's face went through a whole series of dramatic expressions — shock, confusion, disbelief, then pure outrage — like a live emoji show.

"wait, what? are you serious?!” he blurted, eyes wide.

he clenched his fists. “what a jerk. i swear i'm gonna rearrange his face if i ever see him!"

you laugh a little from what he said.

he looks at you, his puppy eyes gleaming. you could tell he felt bad for you. suddenly, he pulls you into a tight hug.

and the two of you stayed like that for what felt like ages.

1 month later (at y/n's house)

your mom had invited mingyu to stay for dinner tonight since his parents were busy. they always were, since he was a kid. your family practically raised him, and treated him like a son.

"imo, i can help, give me that." he says, as your mom holds plates of banchan to bring to the dining table.

"sit down mingyu, you're a guest!" your mom insists.

after arranging all the dishes, everyone started digging into your mom's homemade food.

"eomma, this kimchi is soooo good..." your sister says.

"right? oh my gosh, and the bibimbap too, thanks eomma." you chime in.

soon, everyone started talking about random things. work, school, retired life. all of a sudden, your mom makes a comment.

"you know," she said, passing the kimchi to mingyu, "i still can't believe y/n just packed up and came home like that. what even happened huh?"

you stiffened, not knowing what to say in the moment.

you were about to say something when mingyu, who was chewing thoughtfully and in his own world– suddenly said, "honestly, she handled it way better than me. if my fiancé cheated on me, i'd be in jail by now."

the room went silent. the air felt cold.

your mom froze. "what did you just say, mingyu?" she asked, not sure if her ears were playing games on her.

"i.... uh.... shit, y/n im so sorry.. i thought you told them.." he said, looking at you sheepishly.

"so, its true? y/n, tell us now, is it true?" your dad says, his voice getting louder by the second. "appa.." you started.

"how could you keep something like this a secret??" your mom says, still shocked.

"i didn't want to disappoint anyone.." you say, tears welling up in your eyes.

"jagiya, call jaeyun that bastard now. i'm going to have a talk with him." your dad tells your mom sternly.

"appa, please don't. we're over. there's nothing to talk about. we were both unhappy and we just- i-" you say, sniffling.

"look, what's done is done, okay? appa, eomma, im sorry i didn't tell you, but please for the love of god, don't contact him. i don't want to ever hear from him again" you say, before rushing out the door in tears.

you didn't know, but mingyu followed behind you.

you went to the same park you and mingyu were always at, sitting on one of the swings. you were thinking to yourself, when you heard the sound of shoes shuffling amongst some leaves behind you. you looked up to see mingyu, standing with a guilty expression.

"what do you want." you say, a hint of anger in your voice.

"im sorry... i didn't know, i didn't mean to spill your secret. y/n, please don't be mad." he says.

"its fine," you sighed. "it was bound to come out eventually."

he slowly walked toward you, hands in his pockets, the gravel crunching under his shoes.

mingyu stood beside the swing for a second before quietly sitting down on the one next to yours. you could feel his eyes on you, waiting. hesitating.

“i knew something was wrong the moment you came back,” he said after a while. “you weren’t… you.”

you didn’t reply, just kept your eyes on the ground.

“you smiled, but it never looked like it used to. you flinched when people hugged you. you didn’t unpack your bags for a week.”

you exhaled a shaky breath, blinking up at the sky. “you noticed all that?”

“of course I did. i’ve known you since you used to steal my lunch at school.”

you finally turned to look at him. his expression was serious, soft. the kind of look he only gave when it was just the two of you.

“i hated seeing you like that,” he said. “and I hated him. for everything he did to you. for not appreciating you.”

your heart twisted.

“i wanted to say something. so many times. but i didn’t think i had the right.” he glanced down, fiddling with the chain of the swing. “after all, i was just… your childhood best friend.”

you were quiet. the air between you buzzed with tension, like the pause before lightning strikes.

“i think,” he said, voice almost breaking, “i’ve been in love with you for longer than i can even explain. i thought i could live with just being near you. that maybe someday you’d come back, and maybe i’d still be here.”

he turned his head to meet your eyes.

"but then.. your mom told me you were getting married. you know, when i heard the news, i couldn't sleep or eat properly for days. i think... that's when i truly knew how much you meant to me. how much i loved you." he says.

he turned his head to meet your eyes.

“but when you told me what happened, part of me felt relieved. i thought maybe this time, i'd have a chance. i realized i couldn't just stay on the sidelines anymore.”

you stared at him, heart pounding.

“and i’m not asking you to love me back,” he added quickly, nervous now. “i just needed you to know. that someone has always been looking out for you. that someone will always choose you.”

the swing creaked faintly as you reached out, your hand brushing against his.

mingyu froze, then slowly turned his hand over so your palms touched. his hand was warm, steady — a quiet contrast to the mess in your chest. you looked down at your fingers, now intertwined, and for a moment, the silence between you said more than any words could.

"you always do this," you whispered.

"do what?" he asked, eyes searching yours.

"show up. just when i think everything's falling apart." you let out a shaky breath. "even when i push you away… you're still here."

he smiled faintly, his thumb brushing over your knuckle. "i never left, y/n. i never will."

it hit you all at once — all those years, the teasing, the shared snacks, the late-night talks under the stars, the way his eyes always softened just a little more when he looked at you — it was all there. you had been running from it, or maybe just too afraid to admit it.

but now, sitting next to him on that old swing set, the boy who had always stood beside you… you finally saw it.

and you felt it.

"mingyu," you said, barely louder than a whisper.

he looked at you. really looked at you.

you leaned in, slowly — cautiously — giving him every second to pull away. but he didn’t.

your lips met his softly, gently — not the kind of kiss that demanded, but one that promised.

and in that quiet corner of your small hometown playground, everything just… clicked.

-- end --

a/n : thank you for reading! i hope u enjoyed it <3 i'm taking reqs now, so feel free to drop me one! until the next fic :)

#mingyu #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #love next door

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