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#all grown up: drabble
f1-birb · 1 year
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Slipping through my fingers- ABBA
Basically similar plot as was in Mamma mia but instead of Dona and Sophie it’s Lando and Seb and Jenson when they help him to wear a helmet before his first proper qualification in F1
Amd for dinner veggies fries with good dip
Slipping Through My Fingers
The pride welling in his chest threatens to overwhelm him, and Seb can feel the burning behind his eyelids as he blinks back the sudden build up of tears.
He's not meant to be in the McLaren garage, not really and neither is Jenson, but they're pulling the strings they can to be here. They're fifteen minutes out from the first qualifying session of the season, more importantly they're fifteen minutes out from Lando's first ever qualifying session now that he's in Formula 1.
Their son is finishing getting ready to get in the car, offering Fernando a small smile as he passes, Jon making sure he has everything, and Seb still can't believe that this is happening. Their boy - their brilliant, incredible boy - is all grown up and in their sport at only seventeen, ready to put in the work and show the world he's more than just his last name.
Seb tightens his grip on Lando's helmet, suddenly reluctant to hand it over. Jenson's fingers curl over his own, and the burning comes back with a vengeance. He knows Jenson isn't ready for this either, not for both of them to be in the sport, and not for Lando to do this. He's their pup, their baby, and while they know he's fully capable, they're his parents, they're allowed to want to cling to the last moments before they have to let him go.
He feels Jenson nose against the back of his neck, and he hears the little rumble he gives in response. Then Lando's looking at him, eyes bright and grin wide, and he's rarely ever been still, not while awake, but now it's like he's supercharged with energy.
"Kinda need my helmet, Papa, can't get in the car without it."
Seb blinks and feels Jenson shift behind him, letting him move forward. He holds the helmet up, pulling it away from Lando's hands where they reach for it. "Let me? Please?"
There must be something in his voice because the stubborn little furrow in Lando's brows smooths instantly, his head tipping forward so that Seb can help wrestle the helmet on.
When Lando steps back, he's transported back fifteen years in an instant.
He's leaning against the doorframe, just hidden, and watching as Lando picks out a helmet from the large collection. He's biting back a chuckle as Jenson helps their toddler put it on, holding him steady as he adjusts to the weight. He's crouching to catch his son as Lando propels towards him, led by the weight of the helmet, and he's standing there as Lando proudly proclaims that his Papa's is his favourite.
"Papa?"
He's snapped out of it when Lando calls for him, and the flashes of memories - Lando's first karting race, his first championship win, his first single seater, his son's beaming face as he signs his first F1 contract - all rush past him in a blur until he's left in the present.
"Bärchen." He says softly, and Lando falls into his arms. He feels Jenson join the hug, and he rests his cheek against Lando's helmet. "I wish you wouldn't grow up so fast."
Lando laughs and it sounds a little wet. "Have to some time, Papa."
"I know."
"We're so proud of you Lanno, so proud."
"Thanks, Dad. I love you guys."
"We love you too, bärchen. Now get out there, can't miss your first qualifying." Seb pulls away first, as reluctant as he is, tapping the top of his son's head gently.
"See you for the top three photo." Lando comments cheekily, and they can see his eyes crinkle at the edges before he's ushered by Jon to get in the car.
(Seb's never been prouder than when he stands in the middle of Lewis and his son after a hectic and shocking Q3.)
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thearchertheprey · 11 months
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thank you all for the maplegreen love. im going to bed but here is a brief character study that was supposed to be part of a larger may project that ive been sitting on for a few months now. i only write things every 2 years when theres a super blood moon and the planets & the fates & all the stars align. hope you enjoy
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lordgrimwing · 5 months
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Brewing Darkness #03
Oropher traced his finger along the route boldly penciled onto the map. He considered how it sliced across the mountain range, daring to divide where others skirted around the edge. Erestor, divisor of the plan, stood beside him.
“Going directly through saves over a hundred miles of track,” The younger elf was saying. He’d grown tall in the years since Oropher found him, his mind sharpened with education. Dressed in a hand-tailored suit of the latest fashion, no one would guess he was the misbegotten offspring of a whore. A perfect example of the power of position.
“We’ll have the extra costs for blasting, tunnels and bridges,” He continued. “But I’ve analyzed the numbers and it’s more cost-effective. By optimizing train speed with the more direct route, we’ll see ninety percent return on investment after the first three years.”  
Erestor indicated the sheaf of paper brought to him earlier summarizing the entire project and providing thorough review of everything they discussed now. “We can expect moderate worker losses along the way, but a coal mine down there is drying up so there will be plenty of bodies hungry for work.”
Oropher felt his lip twitch toward the faintest smile. “Excellent.”
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muzzlemouths · 1 year
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🤲
🤲what do YOU get out of writing?
I really struggled with answering this one because I'm not sure how to put it into words. I've always been writing - my whole life, even during those years I was convinced I should quit - all I thought about was writing.
From the earliest days it brought me comfort when no one and nothing else could, its always been a safe way to vent and express myself, it helps me work through emotions when I don't understand them any other way, and it brings me inarticulable joy to speak fluently on pen when my mouth fails me.
I've been eat sleep and breathing this media for as long as I could hold a pencil and at this point it's just a part of who I am, I can't imagine myself without it. I know that's super dramatic, but I can't express it any other way. It's really, truly important to me.
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justmoreocs-writing · 5 months
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Viola tugged the jacket closer around herself and focused on the birds soaring through the sky. Meeting the people behind Dove and Hawk was something she’d never expected; least of all had she expected them to actually have birds of their own living on the roof of their apartment. But then, she was quickly beginning to realise things were far stranger than she could ever have imagined.
Dick Grayson had always been Robin. It was one of those things she’d half known but never fully accepted. Until the two new people in the apartment had made it abundantly clear. And now she was working alongside all of them; trying to protect a girl that she still knew nothing about.
She knew why Kit had walked out – stormed out, more like – earlier. She was grateful he had Tae by his side throughout. But she hadn’t been able to walk away from it all like that. She’d needed to think, but distancing herself from it all didn’t help.
‘Can I join you?’ Dick’s voice pulled Viola’s attention away from the sky and towards him. Despite all the years apart, she still recognised the look behind his eyes. It was dimmed from what she remembered, but the same nonetheless. 
‘Of course,’ she murmured, forcing herself to look away. She knew her attention would linger too long if she allowed it to. Trying to drink in every detail. They’d grown up in two very different worlds after the death of his parents. She hadn’t seen him in person for all those years, and she worried he might just drop off the face of the earth again.
‘I...’ Dick heaved a deep breath as he stepped up beside her; she felt his closeness and could almost fool herself into thinking nothing had changed between them. That years hadn’t separated them. ‘I missed you, Vi,’ he admitted softly. ‘I just –’
‘Grief makes people do strange things. I get it,’ she said, the words felt almost sour. She knew it was unfair of her, and yet she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t help the way she knew she really felt about it all. ‘And we were kids.’
‘Thank you,’ he said softly. ‘I want to make it up to you, though.’
‘Dick –’
‘Please?’ he said, and the earnestness behind his eyes almost made her give in without even a moment’s hesitation.
‘We’ll see what happens, Boy Wonder,’ she teased.
‘OK, Flame Girl.’
Viola felt a small smile tugging at her lips. She just hoped things would work out for the best. If not for her old friend, then for the girl he was trying to help at the very least.
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ GETO SENSEI — GETO SUGURU.
contents. based on this drabble and this drabble, post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru wants to become a teacher :,) bc teacher suguru is what we deserved
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“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to suguru’s cheek. “there,” you said proudly, “another kiss for my sugu. want more?”
“i think i’m okay now, baby. thank you—”
“mwah,” you kiss his forehead, giggling, “i have a lot more where that came from, y’know.”
“i believe it,” he shakes his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “you don’t seem to run out.”
“my sugu needs all the kisses he can get,” you gasp, “they’re good for his health!”
suguru smiles softly at that, closes his eyes and leans into you as you brush back his bangs from his face and thread your fingers into his hair, scratching gently along his scalp as he sighs. you watch him relax, content with the way his under eyes seem to be less dark as of late. you brush a thumb under his eyes, feeling the soft skin before gently stroking along his cheek.
“don’t you have a mission tomorrow?” he asks quietly, letting his head droop into your hand as you cup his cheek.
“i do,” you nod, “but i have some time to kill before i go to bed.”
“you should rest,” he mumbles, “you don’t want to be tired while you’re out there.”
“i’ll get rest, suguru,” you assure with a roll of your eyes, “your hair’s a bit longer, don’t you think?”
“yeah,” he tilts his head as you reach to grab at his bun, pulling the hair tie to let his hair fall freely down to his shoulder. “i guess i should cut it.”
“i like it,” you pout, “‘s pretty like this.”
“yeah?” he grins, cracking an eye open to look at you in amusement, “should i keep growing it for you then?”
“you should,” you nod, “i’ll braid it.”
“yeah, as if,” he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, “satoru’s never gonna let me hear the end of it if he sees.”
“he won’t see!”
“you said that last time when you put my hair in space buns, remember? and then you showed him a picture.”
“baby,” you gasp, “what happened to forgiving and forgetting? that was me of the past—i’ve grown! i won’t betray you like that again.”
you hold a hand up as an oath, nodding seriously to prove your point. he looks at you unconvinced before chuckling and leaning in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“today wasn’t so bad,” he mumbles, “i liked today.”
“yeah?” you smile, letting his head fall to the crook of your neck, shuffling closer on his lap as your arms wrap around him.
he nods into your shoulder, “yeah.”
“good,” you murmur, “you’ll be okay. even if it takes some time.”
“sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admits, cheek pressed against your shoulder as he speaks into your skin. your fingers are in his hair—they seem to never leave, and he hopes they never do. your hand rubs up and down his back, slowly, like it’ll snap in two if you go too fast.
“you will, baby,” you say sweetly, kissing his head as you twist his hair into a messy bun, tying it with his hair tie as you speak.
suguru is healing—you like to think so. he smiles more, sometimes they even meet his eyes all the way. he sleeps better, eats more healthy, seeks you out when things are crushing on his shoulders. there’s something lighter about him, something less heavy and tormented and even if he’s still empty sometimes, you always find him at the right moments.
sometimes, suguru is lost—and maybe you can’t always guide him out, but you can be lost together.
sometimes that’s enough.
“i think…” he starts, trailing off hesitantly. your hand hikes under his shirt, rubbing the bare skin of his back—it’s always calmed him more that way, feeling you without the barrier of fabric in the way.
“you think?” you encourage, letting him take his time to process his thoughts.
“i think i want to teach,” he mumbles, “here, at jujutsu high. but…but do it better. i think i’d do it better, y’know? the way kids deserve.”
you smile at that—proud, a little heartbroken deep down. people have failed suguru, they’ve failed you too. and satoru. and shoko. and nanami. and haibara too—and it’s up to you all to piece yourselves back together. maybe you can all do it together, one cracked, sharp little piece at a time.
sometimes the edges will slice your skin, will reopen old wounds and make you bleed all over again just when you thought you were done bleeding. but suguru has you to bandage the cuts, and you have him too. and everyone else, as well.
you pull away, cup his cheeks and press a soft kiss to his lips as you close your eyes. his hands lay over yours, and he thinks, for a brief moment, you’re right.
maybe he will be okay—maybe he won’t be the same, but he can be new. and that’s not always so bad.
“i think that’s a great idea,” you whisper, “i think you’ll be amazing. what kids will need.”
“well, i’ll try,” he chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours, “and who knows, maybe you can call me geto sensei here and there.”
“we’ll see about that,” you snort. he pouts, making you lean in and kiss those jutted lips of his with a quick peck.
“i’ll convince you,” he says confidently, “you’ll be the only one i let get extra credit.”
“oh i’m honored,” you giggle, “i’ll stay in school just for you.”
“how sweet,” he grins.
you kiss him after that, and he kisses you back. your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, and your arms are warm and tight around him, and even if curses taste vile and the world is coldly unforgiving, suguru can make it through each day with at least one real smile with you by his side.
it’s not so hard when you’re around.
“i love you,” you breathe. it’s enough, he thinks, you’re enough.
“i love you too,” he kisses your jaw, “i’ll love you more if you call me geto sensei, though.”
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yes this is my own version of canon. u can’t take it away from me. in MY world (the only world that matters) suguru heals and becomes a teacher <3 and fucks me over his desk
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s1m0nth3swag · 1 month
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Francis Mosses x GN!Reader
AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.
The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.
The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.
Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.
A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?
Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.
You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.
"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.
Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.
"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.
When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.
Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.
Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
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onlyswan · 7 months
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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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✎ baby
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- gojo satoru x reader
a domestic life with your husband and baby
genre: teeth-rotting fluff, sugary dump fluff, and simply pure fluffff, baby-related, mentions of pregnancy, dad!gojo
note: inspired by this fanart by Deltapork in twitter! from the moment i saw that artwork, i just can't get this out of my head😫
and this is a part of a series of gojo drabbles i’ve planned called gojo's love entries anthology -> updated masterlist here
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Watching your husband entertain your child would never fail to make you smile.
"Aw, my cute baby!" Satoru joyfully exclaimed as he and the baby, secure in his hold, emitted almost harmonious squeals of delight. Both of them practically shared the same brain cells at this point.
And it was a sight that warmed your heart so much, especially when the old Gojo Satoru was a prick who used to made little Megumi cry just for the sake of it and always said that babies and everything that came with them were a pain.
He playfully devoured your son's plump cheeks and burst into laughter, paying no attention to the curious glances he garnered from other shoppers at the supermarket.
"Satoru, hush," you chided gently as you pushed the cart, yet still smiling all the same.
"Ah, look, mama doesn't approve," he remarked to your babbling son, wearing a playful pout. At the same time, your barely seven-month baby puckered his lips too, turning him into a perfect miniature version of your mischievous husband at his best, melting your heart even further.
"It's time for his milk," you pointed out, retrieving the milk bottle. Satoru reached for it and offered it to your baby, who eagerly latched on and started drinking.
Your precious baby continued to feed on the formula, clearly relishing it. It appeared that he couldn't get enough, with the way he drank with such enthusiasm.
"He's a hungry baby... just like you," you mused.
Satoru laughed out loud once again. "Why are you comparing a baby with a grown-ass man?"
Your son was still drinking the milk and seemed like he wanted more, but you could definitely tell how content he was in that moment.
"Because it's your baby, duh. And not only he looks like you, he's also reflecting what you've been doing to me so far, it's uncanny."
"So I've turned our son into a mini-me now, have I." He regarded you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And what have I done to you, darling? Tell me."
"...A lot of bad things."
"Heh, is that so?"
The baby then stopped drinking and seemed to want you to cuddle him, as he reached his tiny hands towards you. Satoru handed him over to you, taking the bottle away, and you gently pulled him close, cradling him against your chest.
"Yeah. Bad, bad things," you cooed to your baby, your eyes sparkling with joy. "First you seduced me, then got me pregnant. And then you forced me to go through that painful labor."
Satoru didn't miss the way the clerk eyed him after you said that. But he chuckled anyway. "Well... in the end you fell for me, and I probably seduced you a bit..."
He paid for the groceries and then the two of you walked out of the supermarket.
"But is that so bad?" He continued with a meaningful smirk. "You seemed like you love it so there's nothing to complain about."
"Hmph."
"And then I got you pregnant... well, you wanted a baby, dear, so you can't really be mad and blame just me for it all, okay?"
The fact that you were having this crack conversation at a crossroad made you struggle to stifle your laughter, to say the least.
Your son was still cuddling up to your chest and now he was looking at you with those wide, glassy blue eyes. You could tell how much he liked and needed you, as well as spending time with you, his mother.
This is your baby with the man who loves you. How could you not love him in return?
Satoru looked at his son in your arms. “Our son is the cutest, isn’t he?”
He seemed tired more than anything though, with the big yawn he just emitted.
“He is so… defenseless.”
“Well, he’s a baby,” your husband said matter-of-factly. “That’s how babies are, darling. He’s learning how to do things and completely defenseless, so he needs his parents. You and I.”
Your baby’s eyes became a little droopy. He was sleepy now, and wanted your warmth to fall asleep.
“Let’s… protect him together, yeah, Satoru?” you muttered softly as your child settled in your embrace, peaceful and content, falling asleep.
Your heartstrings were pulled when you witnessed the expression of absolute adoration on your husband's face.
“Silly. I’m the one who will protect both of you, sweetheart.”
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lunasfics · 7 months
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Found Family
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
word count: 8.2k
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a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)
reblogs are appreciated!
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“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 
“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 
“Good. Nightwing?” 
“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 
“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 
“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 
“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 
Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”
“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 
Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”
He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 
Attempt 1: G6B24 
Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)
Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 
Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision
‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 
“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 
Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.
His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 
“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 
“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.
Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 
“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 
The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.
You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 
“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.
You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.
“Batman?” 
Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.
Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 
You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 
Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 
"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.
He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."
You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 
When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.
They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 
“Hello?” 
“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”
“What’s going o-”
He hung up. 
Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 
Damian covered his laugh with a cough.
You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 
Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 
Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 
Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.
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Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.”��
He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”
You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.
Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 
Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 
You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 
Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 
“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 
You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?
“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 
Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 
At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 
Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.
Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 
You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.
“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  
Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 
You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 
“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 
“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 
Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 
“Wayne.” 
He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”
“Wayne.”
This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”
The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 
Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”
“No.” came their simultaneous response. 
Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 
Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 
Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 
Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”
Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”
Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”
You nodded, “I like it.” 
Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”
Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 
Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 
Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 
Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 
Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 
You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 
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You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 
“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 
“They’re fine…Thank you.”
He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 
You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 
You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 
Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner
You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 
You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 
Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 
Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 
“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.
He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 
You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 
“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.
His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 
“How?” 
All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 
“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 
Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”
“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 
Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 
Bruce simply gave a nod. 
Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 
Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.
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Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 
Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 
She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 
Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”
“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 
“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.
Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”
You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”
“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 
Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 
He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”
“Sounds about right.” 
Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 
The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.
The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.
Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 
“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  
The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 
“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.
“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 
You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 
Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 
You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 
Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.
Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 
“This better be good.” 
Tim mumbled, “Finally” 
“Miss me Timmy?” 
“Quite the contrary.”
The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 
His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 
“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 
Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 
“Holy shit, man.” 
“Jason, will you shut up?” 
“Never.” 
“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 
“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 
“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 
“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 
“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 
Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 
“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 
“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 
“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 
Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 
Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 
“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 
Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 
Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 
“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 
She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 
“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 
Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 
“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 
“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.
“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 
“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 
“I want time with her, Bruce.” 
“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 
Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 
Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 
You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”
She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”
You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
Clark gave you a fond smile. 
Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 
The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 
“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 
You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 
It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 
You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 
He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”
“I suppose so.” 
“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 
“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 
“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 
Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 
A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 
You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 
Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.
Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 
You nodded, “Yes, please.” 
Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 
“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”
Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”
Cass nodded in agreement. 
“We’re just buying training clothes.” 
“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 
You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 
“See?”
Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”
Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 
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When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.
Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 
You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 
The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.
He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 
He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 
The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 
By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.
The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 
When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 
The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.
As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 
You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 
He nodded, walking away to change as well. 
You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 
“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”
You nodded.
“Let’s see it.” 
You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.
Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.
Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”
He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
You nodded. Made sense. 
“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 
You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.
Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 
You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 
This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 
Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 
You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.
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The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.
He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 
And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 
“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 
You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 
You nodded, “How are we doing that?”
He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 
You nodded. 
“Okay… and…. Go!”
You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 
“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 
You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 
They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 
That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 
They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 
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The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 
Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 
Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 
You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.
Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 
Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.
Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 
You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.
Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.
Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.
True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.
Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 
You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.
Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 
You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.
Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’
Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 
Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.
These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.
These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.
And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.
You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.
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Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag (I'm not sure why some people's tags didn't work,, I am very sorry, if anyone has suggestions onhow to fix that i'm open to fix them)
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lovverletters · 10 months
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Yandere! Streamer x Streamer! Reader
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A/N : I'm taking a break from the bullet point format and decided to try making a drabble instead. Huuge thanks to @bloozz for giving streamer his name🌷
T/W : Streamer reader, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, etc
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Damnit..! I lost again" He let out a defeated sigh as he watches the 'GAME OVER' screen blinking at him in an almost mocking way.
The chat of his live stream went wild upon his fifth time losing on a game that he had been playing for hours by now and yet he still hasn't been able to beat it.
"Yeahhh, thanks a lot chat! those 'L's you're spamming are definitely helpful" Micha rolled his eyes at the countless mockery his viewer was sending him. He knew it was all jokes- or at least he hope it is.
Deciding that he needed a break from the game, he cracked open a can of soda and laid back against his chair, opting to interact more with his viewers.
He had only been streaming for a few months and had gained a pretty sizeable amount of viewer and fanbase.
Bloozzclues : You should check (insert your streamer name) out! They've beaten this game multiple time and have some useful tips you can use.
"(Y/S/Name)? I've heard of them before, saw a few of their speedruns. I never understand how they manage to get that luck based glitch to work! But thanks bloozz! i'll be sure to check them out after stream" Micha replied to one of the chat and moved on to the others.
Soupispretty :(Y/S/Name) is actually watching your stream rn lol
Micha choked on his drink as he tries to contain his coughs. He almost spat out the soda onto his keyboard and it would've been a nightmare to clean it up.
Scrolling through the main page of the streaming website on his other monitor, lo and behold, the (Y/S/Name) was indeed watching his stream. Specifically, the parts where he lose to the same boss every. single. time.
He felt his cheeks reddened everytime he heard (Name) laughed or giggled at him. They wouldn't just laugh at him though, they would also insert in some advices for him to improve on which made him incredibly jittery with excitement.
(Y/S/Name) also known as (Name) has always been an inspirational figure of his when he first started streaming. To be acknowledged by his idol causes him to be so overwhelmed, he almost fainted from how fast his heart is beating.
The chimes of his subscription's notif brought him back to his senses, Micha's chats were going crazy from the streamer's trance like reaction to (Y/S/Name) stream.
Kafkaismywife : is he okay??
Peachesandcrem : bro looks possessed💀
Collecting what little composure he has anymore, Micha decided to end the stream under the guises of him being exhausted.
"Ahem.. er sorry about that guys, i think the sleep deprivation is getting to me. So, thank you all for being in this stream but I have to log off now!" He smoothly blurted out, getting back into his streaming persona.
After saying goodbyes to his viewers, he clicked the end stream button. Alone with his thoughts, Micha switches the screen back onto your stream.
He knew from then on, his adoration for you had grown into something more. Something deadly and dangerous.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
(Name) let out an exhausted sigh as they had just finished another successful stream. They played horror games for hours and ended the stream by reacting to random clips their viewer sent via mediashare.
"I should probably take a shower and take a long nap right after.." (Name) thought.
Ping!
It was the sound of their notifications, (Name) picked their phone up and clicked on it. They were directed to their twitter where the person had messages them.
Michatwt
Hey! Thanks a lot for the advice you gave me when you reacted to my live
"Oh it's that streamer i watched earlier on stream" (Name) spoke outloud as they quickly typed out a reply.
(Name)ishere
No prob! Thought you needed some tips to beat the game haha
(Name) sent out the reply and Micha replied immediately. 'He sure is a fast typer' they thought.
Michatwt
This might sounds odd but would you be down to make a collab with me? I think it'll be more fun if you teach me on stream
They paused for a moment, thinking over their decision. (Name) have been wanting to make a collab stream before but never got to it. This would be a great opportunity to produce some new content!
(Name)ishere
Sounds good! We'll discuss about this collab later, I got something to do right now
Michatwt
Of course! See you later haha
Somewhere else, Micha was jumping out of joy and practically on his knees thanking the higher beings for this opportunity he's been given to be close to his idol, his (Name).
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
A/N : ending on a cliffnote because this has been rotting in my draft.
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mysicklove · 9 months
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cw: sub! gojo, heavy edging and then heavy overstimulation, hand job, crying, lots of crying and withering, gojo being cute bc i love him
wc: 1.1k
a/n: wrote this in like 30 mins. good for me. and techically by my standards this is a fic, not a drabble bc its more than 1k. wooooah
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"Make it stop!" Gojo yelps, throwing his head back against the headboard, heaving as sweat drips down his temple. His lower half was naked, and he was wearing just a simple white t-shirt, now slightly sticking to his chest from the heat.
You pull back your hand, admiring the globs of precum on it. You bring it to your mouth, kitten licking it and groaning. "You really need to eat better Satoru. Taste so bad."
"Please," He breathes, eyes lidded and watery. You take another glance at his groin, his cock weeping against his stomach. It's flushed red, dripping pathetically, but other than that, cute.
He has been just one stroke from reaching his high a total of five times now. His body has grown tired, slumped against the headboard, and twitching occasionally.
You watch his hand grab your wrists, and you raise your eyebrows, intrigued by the action. He doesn't say anything, aware of your gaze but choosing to ignore it as he cups your hand into a makeshift hole and brings it back to his cock.
You chuckle at him, letting him do what he wants for a moment. He bucks his hips up into it, eyes slightly rolling back from the feeling. It glides down without much trouble, his precum from earlier lubing his entire length, and making a lewd sort of squelching noise.
He doesn't say anything because he knows he's moments from cumming. In fact, he doesn't even make eyecontact with you, trying to almost sneak by.
It was cute, pathetic and stupid, but cute. You pull your hand away when you see his body begin to curl over.
His mouth hangs open in a broken gasp and his hands twitch. He buries them into the sheets before he gets the idea of trying to touch himself. "Y-Y'know I love you, but I fucking hate you right now," He murmurs, blue eyes peering into yours with a wobbly grin.
You laugh at him, not suprised, and ruffle his already messy hair affectionately. Then you maneuver yourself onto his lap, straddling him. He peers up at you, slightly confused, but you just hum, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His dick twitches at the attention, and he pants into your mouth.
Your soft hand comes back down to his cock, stroking the head a couple of time, watching the way his whole body seems to jerk and the breathy gasp he lets out. Suddenly, your pace is merciless, jerking him quickly and with full force. His eyes widen and his back slightly arches, his fingers digging into the sheets as he tries to process the intense sensation.
"Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum. F-Fuck! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, dont stop please!" He pleads, throwing his head back with a high-pitched, almost feminine moan. He stays true to his word, cum shoots out onto your hand and his stomach. You watch as your lovers abdomen contracts, and the way his whole body trembles under the force of the orgasm. It was an intense one, probably due to how many times he was edged.
Your hands dont stop moving through it all, and his body begins to jerk with the stinging sensation of overstimulation. "'m done," he whispers, hand reaching over to pull yours away.
You slap him away, continuing at the same pace, and he turns to you with frantic eyes, processing the situation. "N-No. No. No. No! I cant!" He pleads, tears welling up in his eyes as the sensation gets more and more painful.
You kiss away the first tear with a soft smile. "Yes you can! Cmon Satoru, all you wanted earlier was to cum. You can do it again!" You tease, kissing his neck when he looks up to the ceiling and begins to cry.
His whole body withers under you, jerking sporatically to escape your hand, and he begins to laugh. Its a mix of a giggle and a cry, sort of like someone was tickling him. He always did this when you overstimulated him, and it was always so endearing to watch. "S-Stop. Hurts. Hah! Oh fuck!"
You are stuggling to stay on top of him, his hips moving from side to side are threatening to knock you over. But you ground your knees into the sheets and use both hands to jerk him off. Wet squelching noises fill the air, mixed with his cries and helpless laughs.
But through it all, you just admire him. His pretty body that twitches and tries to escape your hold, his wet eyes that make the light blue color even brighter, the tear stained cheeks that are the prettiest red color. Everything about him was so pretty.
"I'm going to cum. No. Oh god! Too much. It's too sensitive! Im cumming. Im cumming again!" He rambles, unable to think coherent thoughts. The words just come spewling out of him, his head spinning.
Cum oozes from the tip, more pathetically this time, and he orgasms with a sob. His whole body seems to curl into himself, withering and trying to make himself as small as possible. The top of his head accidentally knocks into your chin, and you laugh, while he cries into your chest.
Your hands jerk him through it all, and the second he feels you going even a second longer after his high was over, his nails dig into your back and he pleads, "No more. Please, I'm begging. No more."
You obey his command, and let go of his cock, watching it fall back onto his stomach. You reach to grab the washcloth, wiping your hands and his stomach off. "Well that was fun."
"Fun?" He screeches dramatically, pulling himself away from your chest and using the back of arm to wipe away the excess tears. "You almost killed me!"
He goes under the sheets, pulling the blankets up to his neck with a pout. "Little dramatic much?"
"I'm not talking to you for the rest of the day," He threatens, falling limp against the pillow and staring at the ceiling.
"Alright."
A couple of minutes go by, and you hum to yourself, preparing for sleep. You listen to the sounds of Gojo tossing and turning in bed, glancing at him with amusement.
He turns to you, and narrows his eyes at you. "Do you think I can cum three times in a row?"
You pick up the lube. "You wanna find out?"
His smile falls in an instant, and he is waving his hands in front of his face. "Nope. Actually goodnight. I love you, dearest!"
You bark a laugh, and set the lube down, crawling into bed next to him. "Yeah, yeah, love you too, you kinky bastard."
"Hey!"
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atangledfate · 5 months
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The Truth Beyond the Veil Part 1
It all felt so So Surreal to be in a place you had never been, yet to feel as if you'd always known it. Miles had promised her answers, promised her the truth and yet now she pondered---did she desire the truth? Would the Truth set her free or, condemn her to a hellish existence? She still wasn't sure and yet her desire to know if her memory was truth or some twisted fabrication.
Her eyes drifted to the Hero Miles Prower, to the man they called Tails. He practically changed there world with his inventions, and made his corporation sit at the top crushing near all opposition. She knew he was a ruthless businessman, yet he was doing all of this for nothing at all. He never asked for a dime, and had seen to nullifying her signal to prevent damage to electronics around her. If not for him she wouldn't be here.
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" So.... where are we? i... feel like i've been here. But this isn't the lab i woke up in... "
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" This is an Old Eggman lab... I think you have been here... if my hunch is right. Its where you were born... "
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" But i have memories... a family... i remember them..."
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" ... I couldn't find any record of the town you spoke of, or the people you mentioned. As far as i can tell... you don't exist and nor do the people...I'm hoping this old, lab has some data about you that hasn't been deleted..."
Her eyes shifted back to the long dark hallway. He knew more then he was telling she could tell. Something about this place was making her nervous, as if she already knew what was here. Like her subconscious was terrified of what she would find at the end of this hallway.
She wanted to run away... yet the truth drove her forward.
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personasintro · 3 months
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Romance Is Not Dead | jjk
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it’s valentine's day and you're single
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brother's best friend!jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst (?)
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mentions of sex (it's mentioned quite a lot), reader's brother is kinda dick, alcohol usage, men (that deserves a warning alright), drunk people (it's a party), angst (?) honestly I'm not sure if there's any angst but it's a story with a few realistic topics that are kinda sad if you think about it, it's not your average fluff story lol
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k+
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a/n: happy valentine's day! mind you this was supposed to be a short drabble like around 2k lol, I had no proper idea of where this will go and somehow I ended up with quite a long story haha. but I'm happy I got more into writing, I wasn't expecting writing this much. if there are any mistakes, please ignore them hehe. I rushed to post it so I could make it on february 14th. I don't know what even is this story but i hope you enjoy it hahah don't forget to like and reblog ♡
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“Argh! Who even invented Valentine's Day?”
The groan that leaves your mouth – or more like a loud complaint – rolls around the room, not stopping you from tossing your bag on the kitchen's table to show your annoyance more than actual anger.
“Hello to you too, sis.” Your brother throws a peace sign your way, not particularly fazed by the lack of greeting on your side.
From your peripheral vision you could easily tell they're right there. Your brother and his best friend have been best friends since high school, they go way back and somehow, they've managed to stay super close till now. It's quite admirable, you have to admit. You don't think you've ever seen or heard them fight. Overall, their friendship seems to be more relaxed in this sense than most girls' friendships.
Yes, that mostly happens between guys. They're not as dramatic or bitchy as some girls can be. God. None of your current friends are your friends from high school. You've parted ways eventually.
However, the amount of drama free that's clearly not present in their precious brotherhood is equalized with loud burps, unfiltered talks about girls and sex through male eyes. You would've mentioned farting but luckily, you haven't heard your brother's best friend to be that nasty in front of you. Which can't be said about your brother but well, that's a part of having a sibling – regardless of their gender.
It's quite cliché.
Your brother's older, therefore he's protective yet loves to embarrass you at any chance. He thinks he's all that and sometimes, it feels like he thinks he's your third parent. That's what's more annoying – perhaps even more than overrated Valentine's Day. 
“Did someone decline you on Valentine's Day?”
There he goes again.
Teasing you. It's a never-ending circle. Luckily, you've grown resistant to his pathetic attempts to embarrass you – especially when his friends are present. Yeah, your brother can be a dick and you're not afraid to tell him.
Though, you don't stick to the names and curses and instead turn it into something more powerful. 
Scoffing, you swipe your hair back and give him a look. “Please, look at me.”
“I am, that's why I asked.” 
You waste no time in grabbing one of the stupid empty cans he always has laying around and throw it at him. Did you mention he can be a pig sometimes?
Your aim has gotten way better throughout the years and when he curses at you once it hits the side of his head, you smile happily. His friend chuckles at the two of you, lifting the can that has fallen onto the floor and sets it on the table.
“Yeah, and that's why you chase every man that comes my way.” you comment, knowing well damn you're right. 
He frowns, “Those men can hardly be called men, sis.”
“Well, bro, I wouldn't know since you like to be the pain in my ass.” you smile at him tightly, seeing him looking before he goes back to playing one of his stupid video games. “Not that I have a man to look up to in the first place.”
They've been doing that a lot. Lame. 
His best friend's snort turns into a laughter that he barely gets to hold in. That makes you smile because you see it as a success in getting back at your brother. And perhaps your little crush you've had on him has something to do with it. But we don't talk about it.
Your brother glares at him but he's not affected, not even a bit. It's hard to put it into words or make any definition, but he's always been slightly more… intimidating? He has an aura around him that makes you appreciate even a little reaction from him. 
It's humorous. You've known him for years, merrily just from always seeing him next to your brother (because there were never other opportunities), yet it feels like you barely know anything about him. Even though he used to occupy your living room almost every day. And today doesn't feel much different. The only difference is that none of you live at your parents' house. 
“Who hurt you today?”
“Don't be a dick. I can be a bitch too.” you remind him sweetly, leaning forward against the kitchen counter and grab a grape that lays in a single bowl. Probably the only healthy thing he has in this kitchen. 
He flips you off and frowns once he doesn't win the game. Karma. “Anyway, are you gonna tell us why you came here so annoyed or you're gonna eat?”
“I can do both,” you shrug. “I just don't get the hype about Valentine's Day.”
“Oh, you asked who invented it? Probably a pair of groupies in love.”
You roll your eyes, “I don't think that's it.”
“It's about romance. It's romantic, sis.”
You snort, “And how would you know anything about romance?”
He chuckles cockily as if the next words he says is something to be proud about; “I don't. But the girl I fucked said something about it.”
“Ew!” you gag, stopping yourself from reaching for another grape. “You're gross sometimes.”
“You don't talk about sex with your friends? C'mon, it's normal.”
“Yeah, with my friends. Not in front of you.” you justify. 
“Jesus, we didn't have to hear that.” Your brother scolds you, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of you talking about sex. 
You sometimes make sex jokes in front of him just to mess with him. It's pretty funny and it never gets old. You don't do it often though, but perhaps you should. 
“I hear only you complaining.” you sign out, pointing out the obvious and for the first time since you've arrived, you give proper attention to his best friend. 
He's been awfully quiet. What's there for him to say anyway? You and your brother bicker most of the time, no matter how old you are. He's pretty much used to it by now. He just stuck to playing the game and other than cackling at your previous comment, he's been quiet. You hate that you're slightly annoyed by the lack of attention he gives you. Not that you're an attention seeker or desperate for his attention.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out he sees you as his best friend's little sister. Even though you're not as little as when he first met you. 
“JK is the last person who wants to hear your complaints.”
“Why don't you let JK speak for himself?” you question, a little edge to your tone as your brother huffs out, muttering something under his breath – obviously aimed at you.
“Chill out, you two.” he mutters, voice slightly deeper than you remember it even though the last time you've seen him was last month. It has a little rasp to it and you wish your eyes wouldn't glue to him automatically. 
He lays comfortably on the couch, man spreading with a game controller sitting in his lap while his big thumbs rest comfortably against the buttons. You might've mentioned you are not friends with people from a high school anymore, but you have friends. One who would kill for a moment to spend with your brother's best friend. Just to be in his close proximity.
Though, it's no secret he's not any better than most guys his age – including your own brother. In a weird way, you love your brother (even though you wouldn't probably ever say it out loud because he's a weirdo and he would just make fun of you), but you can easily tell he's not someone you would ever want to end up with. Personality and morally wise, of course. 
He surrounds himself with people with the same values, or the lack of. 
And perhaps, it's one of the reasons why you suddenly got annoyed because of today's day. February 14th. You're the type that simply brushes off any guy who comes your way that you don't have any interest in. There's no need for your brother. He's a dick and he chases the ones that might not be husband material, but they're hot and charming. You're not necessarily looking for a marriage. God. You're too young. You don't want to be the one that gets locked in a marriage with someone they just met. 
Definitely you don't want to get knocked up either. Fuck, they're so many scenarios that run inside your head. Ones you don't want to live in. 
Regardless of your current stance when it comes to your life and relationships, you're still romantic. All of your friends have dates today. Any other day or year, you wouldn't even think of it – but you've seen everything in the shape of a heart today. Not mentioning there's everyone kissing and hugging at every corner of the street. 
And you didn't get a discount on your cake because you were alone with no partner around. Who does that? That's discrimination!
Valentine's Day is overrated. Maybe you think that way because you're single. Have been for too long. And while you don't necessarily miss it, you kind of crave for someone's affection and touch. It's not even about sex. 
“Listen, we're having a party tonight. I wouldn't normally invite you–”
“Wow, thanks.”
He shoots you a glare again before he continues, “But seeing you so miserable, maybe you could come too.”
“Party? Is this another one of your gangbang parties?”
“I have never been a part of that, stop calling my parties that.”
“There are literally hundreds of people who are there to hook up.” you inform him.
He snickers, “That's like every party.”
You lift up your eyebrows, not quite believing him. It's like every party he hosts or is invited to. People his age make parties slightly less wild. Not that he's too old but still. He's acting and living too wild for his age. 
“I'm not hosting it.”
“Who is?”
“JK here.” His brother says, head motioning toward the man next to him. “I'm sure you don't mind that I'm inviting her.”
The said man looks at his brother, shrugging. “I don't.”
“Well?” Your brother looks back at you. “Are you coming?”
“Are you gonna chase everyone that comes my way? Y'know, my friends are all having dates and if I don't wanna spend tonight alone, I would rather have fun.”
“You're allowed to come. And yeah, probably I will.”
“You're a douche. I'm an adult, stop treating me like a child.”
Your brother sighs, already knowing what argument is about to come. It's about the same stuff every time. 
“I'm doing it for your own good. The people that are gonna be there, guys that are gonna be there are like us, sis.”
There's a certain softness behind his voice, though it still stays vigorous as if he's trying to get something through your thick head. You know all of that, though. You know he doesn't hang out with the best people. But they're just dicks. And they're thinking with dicks. But you can take care of yourself. Besides, he's going to be there as well. 
JK, or Jungkook like you refer to him in your head, briefly looks at you. But you spot it and stare at him as his eyes drift to your brother. “You can't protect her forever.”
“That's something an asshole would say.”
“I never said I'm not one. But let her have her fun.”
“You know what? Don't come. I don't want you there.” Your brother stands up and shoots you a glare before he walks away. 
God! He's such a dick!
JK chuckles and you realize you've been frowning this whole time. You hear the door slam close and you scoff. “He's such a child.”
You eye him with no embarrassment whatsoever, tracing all the tattoos he has gotten throughout the years. The white shirt fits his torso perfectly, even though it's oversized his muscles peak through. 
Your friend told you he's at the gym almost every day. It sure looks like that. 
He suddenly stands up and you straighten automatically, watching him make his way toward you but not before tossing the game controller on the couch. He stays on the other side of the table, reaching for one of the grapes while still staring at you. 
God. He's doing something purposely.
For the first time today, your confidence slightly falters but you do your best not to show it. You stare as he pops one of the grapes into his mouth and chews on it. 
“You're still invited. That's if you still wanna come.”
You blink, “But my brother–”
“Is like a child sometimes. You're gonna be fine there.”
Gulping, you mutter; “How are you so sure?”
He doesn't answer but there's a small smirk playing on his lips. “You would still come, wouldn't you? Just to piss him off.”
That causes you to let out a soft chuckle because yes, he's right about that. Your brother needs to understand you're not a child. “I would.”
“Alright, then come.”
You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and lift your brow, “I will.”
You will go to the party. Even if your brother would burn down the city.
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One of the few things you've learned about your brother's best friend – Jungkook – is that he comes from a wealthy family. You know he got his own place in the city center, that alone tells you he's got money. Whether they come from his parents or by his own hard work is unknown to you. Either way, it's quite clear he's always been slightly privileged than most kids your age.
You've never been to his parents' house. There was never a reason for you to go there, plus, you're not your brother and he didn't exactly bring his little sister with him whenever he went somewhere. The only time he would have to spend time with you alone was when he had to babysit you. But you would always stay home and he would let you know how annoyed he is because of that.
A typical teenager who wanted to chase girls and experience his first hook-ups rather than having to babysit his little sister who was born with sharp tongue and big mouth. You're probably his karma for all the hearts he already managed to break. 
Anyway – you know JK's parents' house is settled up the hill, away from the city and in a rich area where all the big houses were built. You've never seen it, hence your first reaction when you spotted a huge gate and a house that looks more like a mixture between mansion rather than a small family house.
Before he parted ways a few hours ago when you last saw him, he gave you the address. Seems like you've arrived just in time. There are many people, outside and inside – everywhere. It looks like the college parties you get to see in movies but more upgraded.
The thing about you is that you would never go to a party alone. Even if two people you know are here. Well, your brother still doesn't know you're here and he's about to get pissed once he sees you. Suddenly, the idea to piss him off doesn't seem so alluring.
But this house – or mansion or whatever this building is called – is the only place that is not filled with heart balloons. They might be couples and strangers that are glued to each other, the romance is simply not present. It's nasty and explicit to a certain extent. 
A part of you is disgusted at how easy some people seem to be, letting themselves to be groped by strangers, but there's something alluring. Perhaps even more than doing this just to prove a point to your brother. 
You don't get a chance to look around the place, since it's crowded and you're trying not to get shoved into, you're looking for a bigger space and maybe something to drink. You make it into the main room it seems. A huge couch in the shape of U looks massive but it fits into the big room perfectly. There are people everywhere and there's not a single space on the couch. However, once you make it closer and spot a tiny space, it's all forgotten and your vision naturally travels to the couple sitting there. 
You would spot those tattoos everywhere.
Jungkook's there. And a woman sitting on his lap as you see them making out explicitly, tongues brushing against each other. Alright, a part of you envies the woman but looking around and seeing more of them staring in slight irritation and jealousy, you're not alone. You scrunch your nose at them not caring and just making out with each other in front of everyone. There's no way they don't know everyone's eyes are on them. The guys ignore them though. It's mostly women.
The one that sits on his lap and seems to be ready to jump his bones, is wearing a tiny top and mini skirt. You can see her panties and you feel embarrassed to witness the tiny piece of underwear. Well, she doesn't seem to care.
His hand is on her waist, gripping it tightly as he pulls away and mutters something into her lips. She giggles, all her attention focused on him. 
Despite knowing him for years, you've never seen him in this element. And maybe that's what your brother didn't want you to see. Not even Jungkook but everyone here. You've witnessed a few parties, but this one is completely on another level. It looks straight out of a movie and perhaps completely out of your comfort zone. 
But you don't leave. You stick in your spot and just stare at your brother's best friend flaunting his charm all around him, but mostly aimed at the woman on his lap. 
Since your brother that eventually came out of the bathroom told you to get out, you've decided to come after all and give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe not exactly the same but that's why you chose one of your tight dresses. They're not special. Just a dress that almost every woman owns. But this one has thin straps and you don't get to wear a bra in it, that's how tight it is. It's the only clothing you're wearing, minus the panties of course. 
You look good. You know you do and that's why you chose this outfit particularly. You thought the heels are perhaps too much, but luckily you opted for them instead of your sneakers. Everyone seems to be dressed like they're in a club. Not even one outfit on a woman here looks completely comfortable. And they show more skin when they wear clothing. Not that you're judging. You're not the one to talk.
And you know this choice of clothing is not only a magnet for eyes, but for unwanted touches you were counting on eventually. It's sad but it's the truth. That's why you never come alone to these things. You always have your friends with you. You would kick asses for each other and overall, you feel more protected and safe. 
The hand that slaps your ass – that definitely looks good in this dress – causes you to turn and twist your face in anger. You spot a wasted man that smiles stupidly as if he did something cute. You shove him in the chest causing him to stumble into a few people who start to curse at him and complain.
“Touch me one more time and I will fucking kick your ass.” you spit at him. 
Your ass might look good but that's not an open invitation for strangers or anyone to touch you unwillingly. 
He gains his balance and his drunk features twist into anger. You see it. He's angry because you're not all over his dick because he touched you. First of all, he's not even hot. And he's wasted out of his mind. There's nothing hot about it. 
He doesn't make it too close because you push him again, causing him to fall this time.
“You bitch!” he yells, having a trouble to stand up and you cover your mouth to shield the giggle that makes it out. 
One of the guys that he stumbled into turns around, ready to curse. But as your eyes lock, all the amusement fades away and your eyes widen in a sudden fear. Shit.
It takes a moment for your brother to register that it's you – perhaps the exposed skin causes him to widen his eyes too before they twist into anger.
“What the fuck.”
“I was invited.” you automatically argue, yelping once he makes his way toward you and grabs you by your forearm. He kicks the bastard that still tries to stand up and starts leading you elsewhere. No, he's not leading you but dragging you with him.
It's not the initial reaction you had in mind. You wanted to smirk, to show him that you're here and there's nothing you can do about it. But that's out of the picture because in the end, you're just a little girl that maybe loves to piss off her brother, but once you truly piss him off you back away.
That realization causes your anger to come back and you dig your heels into the wooden floor, trying to get out of his hold. “Stop squeezing me like that!”
“Would you like to be squeezed by strangers?!” He yells over the music, both of you stopping next to a staircase.
It already happened, you wanted to say but decide to stay quiet.
He couldn't see what the stranger did to you. He only saw the man falling and stumbling into him. So the fact that he's this pissed off to see you here without even seeing what happened just minutes ago, makes you think he needs a psychiatrist. What would he do if he saw what happened?
“Maybe I want that!” you yell at him. “And there's nothing you can do about it!”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to calm down. “What are you doing here.”
“I told you. I was invited.”
“I uninvited you.”
You scoff, “It's not your party, you moron.”
“JK invited you?”
“Yeah.” you shrug just to piss him off some more.
He stares at you for a moment, glaring but you glare back before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Fine. But you're not leaving my side.”
You scoff but he grabs your shoulders tightly. 
“I mean it.”
“Stop touching me.” You slap his hands away, his touch fading away as you're about to open your mouth to curse at him some more.
Before you can do it, someone nudges him from the left side. Your brother is about to pounce but once he sees his best friend in the flesh, he stays down but not before he's reminded of what you told him. 
“What are you doing.” He questions your brother but he just scoffs in return.
“You invited her?”
Jungkook rolls his lip piercing as he shrugs, “I did.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Me? You invited her first if I recall.” 
Your brother stares at his friend in disbelief before he glances at you. You shrug, lifting your brown. 
“You two are fucking unbelievable.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, probably thinking your brother is just dramatic. Which he is. While they're too busy arguing, you don't pay attention to anything that's being said. You shamelessly eye Jungkook, spotting how blurry his lips are from the make out session you witnessed a while ago. He's got a similar outfit like you've seen him during the day. The only difference is that he's wearing all black. 
“Listen you two, I will stay out of your sight, okay?”
“No fucking way!” Your brother argues while Jungkook sighs in exhaustion. 
“I'm just gonna have a few drinks and meet new people.”
“These people are not for you to meet or be friends with.”
“Who said anything about being friends?” you mutter, causing your brother to curse at you once more.
“No–” He stops you before you can interrupt him, “You invited her, so you will look after her.”
“Me?” JK frowns, disliking the idea. While you would be slightly offended by the lack of interest when it comes to you, you're also irritated that your brother here is acting the same. Only this time he's giving the responsibility to Jungkook. 
“Yes, you! You invited her, so you'll watch over her tonight. If anything happens to her, I will personally kill you,” 
God. He's so full of himself. If Jungkook wanted, he could knock him out with one punch. But you don't say it to hurt his male ego and boost Jungkook's one. It seems they're full of ego. 
“And I'm not joking.”
He brushes past you two and leaves angrily. To probably shove his tongue down to any first girl he sees. 
And from the looks of it Jungkook looks like he would rather much do the same. But then he looks at you, reminded of his current responsibility. You. 
“Listen–you don't have to look after me–I can handle my–”
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
He stares you down, not in the creepy way to stare at your body but almost looking for anything that could give him answers to his question.
“I've seen what happened.”
“You've seen it?” you breathe out, “I'm fine.”
“You sure?”
“I handled it.” you grit through your teeth.
“You did,” he agrees much to your surprise. “Or maybe you were just lucky.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” You trash with your hands, but he catches your wrist. Gently. But he has his hold on you and your breath catches in your throat. He pulls you closer.
“What if it was someone who wouldn't be so wasted? Hm?”
You gulp, glancing at his lips for a split second before you find his dark eyes on yours. “It happened with people around us. Someone would step in.”
He scoffs, “Don't count on it too much.”
“They would–”
“Some of them. Not all of them,” he informs you. 
You're reminded that he knows these parties. He knows how it's going. And while no one would mess with him personally, it doesn't mean everyone is as safe as him. Let alone any women. That much you've realized and you haven't even been here for a half an hour. 
“What if he waited until you're drunk to take you somewhere else?”
You breathe out shakily, “Stop.”
“What if he dragged you upstairs? And that's just the start of what he might've done.”
“Fucking stop.” you warn him with your eyes but he doesn't budge. 
He tames you like you're a fucking dog.
“Your brother's right. You're staying with me.”
“And staring at you making out all night?”
You shut your mouth as soon as your response gets out. Jungkook tilts his head tiniest bit to the side and the corner of his mouth lifts up. “You were watching.”
“It was hard not to. Everyone was watching.”
“That's not an excuse.”
You inch closer, licking your lips. “It wasn't supposed to be.”
He stares at your lips before his touch disappears and so its warmth does. “You're not leaving my side.”
You scoff but he glares at you which surprisingly shuts you up. 
“I can give you alcohol, you can have fun. But you're not leaving my side.”
“You're worse than my brother.” That's a stretch and you both know it, but you've never seen Jungkook acting like this. He never really cared. He never had to in the first place. That's what your brother was for. 
He inches closer, hovering over you like only his presence can. “I can be worse.”
And somehow, that sounds like a promise. Once he motions for you to follow him, you do like a lost poppy with gritted teeth and anger bubbling inside you. But you don't disobey. Perhaps it's the shock or the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you buzz with excitement. 
Fuck. 
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It's not hard not to have a crush on someone like Jungkook. He's hot, he's confident but not in the way where he's full of himself. He has every reason to be confident.
And just like he promised, he has managed to give you drinks that surprisingly taste good. They're not too strong and something tells you he purposely picked those out for you. You don't complain. They don't cause you to make grimaces at every gulp and you can feel yourself relax. In the corner your brother watches you with glare, reminding you of something that should feel like punishment. 
Perhaps it does.
Jungkook has you seated next to him, back on the couch. The woman he made out with sits on the opposite side, sending daggers next to you. You roll your eyes very publicly, scoffing and making sure she sees you. 
“JK, can we go somewhere else?” You hear her annoying sweet voice, while Jungkook himself looks slightly irritated that he has you on his watch. “Upstairs?” she suggests.
“Sorry, love, can't.”
She huffs out, “Why? Because you're babysitting?”
You move sideways to face her, leaning through Jungkook as you glare at her. “Maybe he just doesn't want your tongue shoved in his mouth.”
Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand to your collarbones to move you back but you don't budge. 
“Oh yeah? He wants more than that.” she informs you. 
“God, you're so desperate.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Behave.” Jungkook warns you, pushing slightly harder and finally, you plop back onto your spot and fume with arms crossed. 
“Tell your bitch to behave.”
“Y/N.” Jungkook warns through his teeth. You stop, realizing that this is the first time he said your name. Still fuming, you give him a glare before standing up.
“What did you just call me?”
“Come on.” Jungkook stands up too before you can make things worse and he's going to be caught up in a girls fight. This is not the night he planned.
He doesn't drag you like your brother did. He still rests his hand against your back and leads you in a direction. You don't protest. You want to but anything's better than being in the blonde's presence one more second. 
When you realize you're standing next to your brother who's leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a knowing and quite pleased smirk. 
“Dude. That's enough.”
“Are you having any issue with my sis, JK?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You made your point.”
“No, I don't think I have.”
“You two are annoying.” he sighs, closing his eyes.
“Excuse me? What have I done?” you exclaim, hand on your chest as he gives you a knowing look that shuts you up.
It's more than clear. Jungkook has brought you to your brother, so he could deal with you rather than he has to. It bruises your ego, but only slightly because you don't let any guy do any permanent damage. But you have to be honest. It's slightly embarrassing how he wants to shake you off. Clearly his plans for tonight have been different and watching the blondie still waiting for him patiently makes your night even worse, knowing what exactly he had planned. 
“You made me a huge cockblocker, bro.” you interrupt their bickering. It feels refreshing not to be the one bickering with your brother. 
Which reminds you that for the first time, you actually see them in some sort of argument even though it's not exactly a fight. Your brother as always is a pain in the ass and Jungkook's now experiencing it. You don't understand why Jungkook just doesn't let you go? Why did he insist on having you by his side at all times? 
Most likely, he doesn't want to piss off your brother.
Jungkook throws you yet another glare, but you brush him off pretty easily. “It's not about that.”
You give him a look which makes him groan.
“It's not just about that.”
And then they continue again. Your brother complains about your presence here, blames Jungkook rather than your own decision to come. He knows you. He knows you've done it to mess with him and it worked. But he expected better from Jungkook. 
You don't want to hear any second of it any longer. You don't wait for Jungkook's response, not even when you see his frown deepen and you know he's getting angrier by every word your brother spits in his face.
Using the tiny chance where they don't pay you any attention, you distance yourself from them. When you're in a safe distance and are not stopped by one of them, you make a run for it. Grabbing a wine bottle from someone's hold, ignoring them complaining, you make it upstairs and try to find a place where you can be alone. Before they find you.
You know once they notice you're not there, they'll be looking for you. Well, your brother will for sure. Even though he can be a dick, he's worried. But let him. That's what he gets for not letting you enjoy tonight. 
Passing by people who either mingle or make out, you try a few doors that are locked. Wise decision. Another reason why Jungkook seems to know how these parties go. It seems almost impossible to find a place where no one is. 
Just when you become tired and desperate, you make it to the quieter part of the house. It's weird because there are people everywhere. It's impossible to find somewhere quiet and empty. 
Luckily for you, you end up in a room that seems to be some sort of office. It's medium sized, definitely not one of the biggest rooms in this massive house, but still bigger than your kitchen and room together. 
It seems Jungkook has forgotten to lock this room. There's nothing special about it though. But he definitely doesn't want anyone to have sex on the wooden desk you pass by. There are a few shelves with books and a lamp, but other than that it's pretty empty. Oh, and there's a small couch. It looks expensive but it seems like they've brought it here just to put it somewhere. Not that it doesn't fit in here.
But it definitely doesn't look as expensive as the furniture you've managed to see in your short stay here. What has it been? Two hours? Two awful hours and no fun. 
Making it onto a small balcony, you sigh in relief when you find it open. It's facing the back of the house and your mouth drops when you see a fountain, pool and a garden in the distance. He's filthy rich. His parents are.
Sitting on the cold ground, you take a sip of the wine. Your features scrunch in disgust but you force yourself to drink. It's more from the whole annoyance and anger you've been feeling ever since you came here.
Maybe they were right.
This place is not for you.
You have no idea how long you end up sitting there. 
You just stare, hearing the blasting music in the distance and the chatter of people. You wonder if any neighbor called the police on him. But they're in the distance, probably they don't hear it as much.
There's a forest around you. There are no cars, no barking and no city noise. You wonder how this place feels like when there's no party. It must be calm and relaxing.
“Here you are.”
You hear it as soon as the balcony door slides open, ignoring the hint of annoyance in his voice as you take another gulp.
“You can't disappear like that!”
You chuckle, “Really? Watch me.”
“Your brother went crazy when you disappeared.”
“Sounds like a him problem.” you shrug.
“Are you drunk?”
You give him a look, a lazy smile making it onto your face.
“Where did you get that?”
“You know this is the most you've spoken to me since I've known you.” you take a note out loud.
He ignores you though. “You're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a me problem, no?”
“God, you're such a brat,” he groans, “And get off the ground, you're gonna get sick.”
Snorting, you shake your head. “You're acting just like my brother.”
“You're irresponsible.”
That causes you to get a whiplash from how fast you glare at him. “I am not. Y'all act as if I can't do things on my own. Not only does my brother try to control me and watch over my shoulder every goddamn minute, you started doing it too!”
“He's worried about you.”
“Whatever,” you grumble, “Go back to blondie and leave me alone. Or snitch to my brother about my whereabouts, I'm sure he will get me out of here.”
He stays though. He doesn't move and doesn't speak for a moment. Instead, he sighs and sits next to you. 
“I wanted you to have fun.”
“Well, that didn't work, did it?”
“Look at you,” he chuckles, nudging lightly on your shoulder. “You seem to have fun on your own.”
“Yeah, spending Valentine's Day alone on the balcony of my brother's best friend is just so much fun.”
He laughs. He actually laughs and gives you an approving nod once he realizes you're right. “You're not alone anymore.”
You give him a look but before he can elaborate, he motions toward the bottle in your hand with his head. 
“Give me that.”
“No, this is the only fun I have.”
“C'mon, I will drink with you.”
Your surprise comes out before you give him a suspicious look. “You will?”
“Yeah.” he agrees and takes the bottle you hesitantly give him.
He takes a small sip, not a few gulps as you expect him to. “Is that all you got?”
“For tonight, yeah.”
“Why?” you question.
“I will take you home.”
You scoff, but then he continues. 
“After you decide you wanna go home.”
“Really?” Your surprise makes it out again. “You're not gonna kick me out?”
“I would never kick you out.” 
You make a face, “But my brother–”
“Your brother can be a dick sometimes.”
“Woah.”
“Don't act like you don't know it.”
“I do, but I'm just surprised you're the one saying it.”
He sets the bottle on the other side of him. It doesn't go unnoticed by you but you decide not to fight with him, especially once you feel the alcohol doing its job. 
“Well, I've seen it from his side and I gotta be honest, he's protective. Sometimes overly but he's not doing it because he hates you, y'know?”
“I know he doesn't hate me,” you inform him. “It's just annoying sometimes.”
“But now I've seen more of your side and he should just let you live.”
You nod in appreciation with lips pursed, “Wow, thank you.”
He smiles, “You still do a lot of stuff just to get back at him. You're not making it any easier, huh?”
You laugh, “It's my rebellion.” 
You sit there for a moment in complete silence. Jungkook stands up and leaves. You act as if you're not disappointed but before you can reach for the bottle that Jungkook has left here, the door slides open again and Jungkook wraps a blanket around you. 
“Don't look so surprised.”
“Wow, JK does something nice for a girl?”
“I can do a lot of nice things.”
“Is there a double-meaning or?” you trail off, causing him to laugh as he shakes his head.
“Not like that.”
Yeah, because you're his brother's best friend.
Not that you would ever want something with him. Only in your most secretive dreams but that's beside the point. Jungkook is not boyfriend material. You've seen it today more than ever. But you can't deny that he attracts you in the weirdest way possible. You have never experienced that with anyone. 
He's your type. When it comes to looks. And you're slightly ashamed to admit that some of his behavior attracts you. Basically, it's a red flag but what do they say? I'm color blind?
“How are you not freezing?”
It's February and you're sitting on a balcony. 
“I'm drunk.”
God, you're going to end up sick. Even your drunk self scolds you. 
“You wanna go home?”
“Not yet.”
He nods, not protesting as you both stare ahead. Your thoughts run wild, even in their slow pace because of alcohol flowing in your system.
“I was so annoyed because today's Valentine's Day,” you start, chuckling at yourself. “At first I thought I was just annoyed because everyone's in love and everything about today is about love. I do think it's overrated though.”
“I don't know, I never cared about it to be honest.”
You laugh, “Did you make today's party for all anti-romanticists?”
“No, I would've done it either way.” he chuckles. 
“Did you ever make something romantic for Valentine's Day?”
He makes a face, frowning but silently laughing amusingly at the thought of it. “No.”
“You know what? I think I was more annoyed that secretly maybe I crave for something romantic. Not necessarily a relationship.”
“Or maybe you just feel the pressure of today's ridiculous holiday and people around you.”
You snort, “You're just saying that because you're not in love.”
“Love's not for me. Not that kind at least.”
“And what kind?”
“I loved our family dog.”
You laugh, “That's different. I'm not talking about that.”
“I know you don't. Just sayin', love has all forms.” 
You hum, sighing before you start shivering. 
“Come on, let's go inside. You're freezing.”
“But–”
“We don't have to go home.”
“Or maybe I should. I'm getting tired. And I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“You were mixing hard liquor with wine. You will.” he agrees and once you nudge him, he laughs at you. “C'mon, you little brat. It's time to go home.”
As he makes sure you don't fall on the stairs, giving you the support you almost stumble when your brother makes his way toward you, breathless and relieved once he sees you.
“Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere. We've been looking for you! Why do you have the blanket?”
“Found her on the balcony.”
“What were you doing there?!” He screeches.
“Don't worry, I wasn't going to jump. But if I'm gonna have to keep up with your annoying ass for one more second, maybe I will.”
“You're drunk.” He scoffs.
“And honest.” you add.
“And where are you going?”
“I'm gonna take her home.” Jungkook answers, helping you with the last step as your brother stares with mouth wide open. 
“Like the hell you will! You were drinking.”
“I wasn't,” he responds. “Not since I was with her anyway.”
“Doesn't mean you don't have alcohol in you.”
“I don't. I'm fine.”
You didn't even realize he wasn't drinking anymore. God. You really can be a pain in the ass too. But that's your brother's doing though. He should've never ordered Jungkook to look after you. 
“You're the one who reeks of alcohol,” Jungkook informs him calmly, “Or you want someone else to take her?”
He shakes his head, still hesitant. He walks closer to you and wraps the blanket tighter around your form. “Are you gonna be fine?”
“Yeah, I trust Jungkook. Don't you?”
“I do.” He doesn't hesitate. 
He gives one final nod to Jungkook as he leads you out of the house. As you're walking out of it, you spot blondie with a group of what seems like her friends, glaring the shit out of you. You stick out your tongue when Jungkook's busy opening the door for you. The look on your face causes you to smirk.
Jungkook gets you inside his flashy car and you're kinda doomed that you're too drunk to look around and appreciate the expensive type of vehicle. You're drifting in and out of your consciousness. But you notice Jungkook stopping in front of a convenience store, informing you he'll be right back. And he is. It seems like he's been gone for a minute because you close your eyes, open them and he's already there.
The drive and walk to your home is quick. You get to walk on your own, much to your embarrassment there are no accidents of stumbling or falling. As soon as you make it past your doormat, you make it inside your bathroom and throw up in the sink. It's embarrassing once you hear Jungkook behind you, helping you with your hair. He doesn't say anything, just letting you throw up everything that's currently in your stomach. 
“I should take a shower.”
“Fuck that. Go lay down. I will lock the door.”
“Lock?”
“Your brother gave me his spare keys.”
“Oh.”
After a few minutes of bickering, you still insist on taking a shower. Jungkook sighs and lets you do your own thing, patiently waiting in the living room. Once you make it out in your pajamas that consist of your brother's huge t-shirt, you find him scrolling through his phone. 
“You gonna be fine?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You're seconds from passing out. You might've stumbled in the bath a few times but you hope he didn't hear that. 
You drag your feet to your bedroom and fall onto bed. You'll cover yourself later. As soon as you lay down, you ignore your spinning head and the disgusting taste of vomit that is still present, even though you've brushed and rinsed your teeth even in your drunken state.
The night is wild.
You throw up a few times, finding a prepared bucket beside your bed but unfortunately, you don't make it into it the first time. Once you wake up with a messy and aching head, you notice vomits on your floor and you cringe at yourself. Disgusting. 
You wake up around twelve, finally in a better state to leave your eyes open without having to vomit everywhere. You're about to reach for your phone, knowing you're going to have at least a dozen messages from your brother. But you stop yourself as you stare at things that weren't on your nightstand before.
There's a glass of water. A box of painkillers and a chocolate bar wrapped in a package filled with pink and red hearts. 
There's a note stuck to it. 
'Happy Valentine's Day, JK'
You stare, reading the note over and over again. 
And they say romance is dead.
2K notes · View notes
gimmethatagustd · 4 months
Text
gang shit | knj
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Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.
○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader
○ Rating: Sfw
○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor
○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)
○ Word Count: 1204
○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples
○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨
○ Post Date: January 1, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i
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“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm. 
You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please. 
Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?
“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest. 
You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”
Apparently, that was offensive.
Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip. 
“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man. 
“Did she?” 
“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”
“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…” 
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced. 
You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually! 
“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?” 
“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.
You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck. 
“She’s adorable,” you say softly. 
“She’s weird as shit.” 
Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs. 
“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.” 
“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”
“Yup.” 
Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown. 
“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” 
“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?” 
You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids. 
“Plus, I like being the fun parent.” 
“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals. 
“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you. 
“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.” 
Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised. 
“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence. 
“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.” 
With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are. 
“You’re the one who–” 
“HEY! NO HITTING!” 
Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck. 
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”
Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball. 
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology. 
“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager. 
“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”
It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around. 
“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon. 
“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.” 
“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye. 
“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”
“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist. 
“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?” 
Oh.
“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.” 
Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”
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justmoreocs-writing · 11 months
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Tae didn’t speak, but Kit could see the fear, the concern, the hurt behind his eyes as he got to work gluing the cut on Kit’s cheek. His hands were gentle, fluttering about like delicate butterflies, scared to land.
‘I told her to help me. Mollie, I mean,’ Kit said, needing to break the silence that was growing heavy between them.
Tae’s hands faltered before they cupped Kit’s face gently, careful not to touch the tender skin of his injury. ‘You don’t have to learn this. Not to impress people, not to –’
‘I want to though, Carter,’ Kit admitted, hoping the nickname, the reminder of his own obsession with cartography, might help Tae understand why he needed to do this.
Silence settled heavily between them, and for once Kit was grateful when he heard his sister’s call of greeting; even if Tae did flinch before starting to put the medical equipment away.
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