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teenytinyjimin · 2 months

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i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fanfiction #bts fic #angst #bts jungkook #bts jk #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jk angst #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #fanfic #jk fanfic

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 3 months

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[Commissioned]

Career's Dead End: Ex-NMIXX Jinni × M!OC

Tags: Rape, Hardcore, Belly Bulging, Face Fuck, Cum In Mouth, Cum Swallowing, Clit Torture (just the usual pinching, pulling, etc), Pussy Slapping, Squirting, Anal, Overstimulation, Breath Play

Character(s): Ex-NMIXX Jinni × Male OC

Word Count: 7,653

A/N: Since the plot takes place before Jini became a soloist, I will use Jinni throughout the story and her birth name, Choi Yunjin in some of the dialogue. I hope you guys don't mind a long plotless chapter.

Jinni had always thought being an idol would be a fun gig. You know, basking in fame, meeting new people, and connecting with fans. She imagined herself becoming a household name, doing what she loved for a living. But, being an idol wasn't the glamorous ride she had envisioned.

It turned out to be a lot less exciting, and before she knew it, she was no longer part of NMIXX. Her career ended abruptly, leaving her feeling underwhelmed and detached. She went through the motions like a robot until the very end.

Even though Jinni's time as an idol was short-lived, her former group mates were like her friends. Saying goodbye to them after living together like a family was a heavy burden to bear. It was even more heartbreaking that she didn't get a chance to bid farewell to the other members before leaving the dorm.

Maybe NMIXX's busy schedule was intentionally designed by the CEO to keep them apart from her as if the company didn't want any lingering attachments to form. There wasn't much she could do about the situation, but she had one thing left to do before she left.

Her manager, Hanwol, had been a constant support throughout her idol career. Looking back, Jinni realized she hadn't seen him since the news of her departure from NMIXX broke out. So, here she was, taking a cab to his house, which was nearly an hour's journey from the dorm.

As the cab drove through the city, Jinni observed the surroundings—a residential area with several empty houses or ones still undergoing renovation. She wasn't entirely sure, so she checked the address again.

"This is the place, but..."

The cab came to a stop in front of a one-story house with a white gate. It appeared more well-constructed than the neighboring houses. Jinni paid the fare and got out, making sure to take the bag of fresh fruits she had bought along.

Jinni took a deep breath to steady herself and then pressed the doorbell. Silence filled the air. After a few moments, she pressed the button again, and she heard a crash that she assumed came from the front door.

Soon after, the gate rattled and slid open. Jinni paused, her eyes fixated on the taller man standing before her. His two-block hair was disheveled and damp, a half-empty beer can in his hand. His usual smile was absent, replaced by a hint of weariness.

"Jinni?" he said, his gaze scanning the area outside. Finding no one else, he let out a sigh. "What brings you here?"

"I-I just wanted to say goodbye before, well, leaving. I haven't seen you at the company, so I came here to see you, oppa. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me and guiding me during my time there..." Jinni's voice trailed off, a sad smile on her face as she handed him the bag of fruits.

Hanwol reluctantly took the paper bag from her hands, his gaze fixated on it with a blank expression. "Damn..." he cursed inwardly. Was this all he had left after being laid off from his job as a manager? That's what had him looking so disheveled, but of course, the former idol standing before him had no clue.

Sure, he received his salary, but he needed a solid reason if he wanted to apply elsewhere, and he hadn't gotten one at all. He was simply told to move on and good luck with his future shit. The can in his hand crumpled as frustration welled up inside him. No amount of beer could help him calm down anymore.

However, Jinni might hold the truth he desperately sought. She was no longer tied down as an idol, and no one could restrict her anymore. Plus, she was alone now. Hanwol's thoughts became clouded as he eyed her, his gaze lingering on her exposed stomach since the hem of her shirt was lifted and tied behind her back.

"Well, I guess I'll take my leave then. Didn't mean to bother you too much. Take care, Hanwol oppa," she said, her smile tinged with sadness as she turned around to leave.

Hanwol's gaze shifted outside, scanning the usual emptiness of the area. He watched her retreating figure, his eyes now fixated on Jinni's hips, snugly squeezed into those low-rise pants she wore, stirring up conflicting emotions within him.

"Jinni," Hanwol called out. The girl turned back, her eyes meeting his. "Wanna come inside and talk for a bit?" he offered, his smile masking the turmoil he felt inside. At that moment, relief washed over Jinni's face, and she nodded, taking a few steps back toward the gate.

Hanwol watched as Jinni walked further into his house, his body moving on autopilot as he threw the beer can at the corner of his front yard and locked the gate. He caught up to her and opened the front door, gesturing for her to enter. She slipped off her shoes and stepped inside, while Hanwol lingered for a moment to lock the door once again.

The inside of Hanwol's house was plain and neat, reflecting his minimalist taste. The living room was adorned with simple furniture, a comfortable couch, and a coffee table. Jinni took a seat on the couch, sinking into its soft cushions, while Hanwol headed to the kitchen to put the fruits away.

In the kitchen, Hanwol glanced at the sparsely stocked refrigerator. "Do you mind a beer? I haven't done any grocery shopping yet," he called out to Jinni.

Jinni smiled politely. "Thanks, oppa. Don't trouble yourself. I'm fine with whatever you have."

Hanwol rummaged through the fridge for a moment, then remembered the leftover milk. He grabbed the carton and decided to pour himself and her a glass. With the milk in hand, he joined Jinni in the living room, placing the drink on the table and taking a seat in an armchair across from her.

As they sat there, sipping their respective beverages, the atmosphere felt both tight and uncertain. The silence lingered for a while until Hanwol finally broke it, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"So, Jinni, what really happened at the company? Why did they let me go without any proper explanation?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for the truth he had been desperately seeking.

Jinni's eyes widened at Hanwol's statement. "What? They fired you, oppa? I... I had no idea," she stammered, her grip tightening around her glass.

Hanwol let out a sigh, frustration evident on his face. He downed the milk in one gulp and slammed the empty glass onto the table.

"Doesn't really matter now. I just want to know how you messed up. Why did you leave the group, Jinni?" he asked, leaning forward, his gaze locked with hers.

The former idol bowed her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I have a reason I can't disclose, oppa. But I'll speak to the CEO on your behalf—"

Hanwol interrupted her, his voice laced with accusation. "So, you can't disclose the reason because it's true that you were caught with a guy at a hotel? Is that rumor actually true?”

"Hanwol oppa! You know me! I-I am not like that!" Jinni blurted out, her voice filled with hurt and disbelief. Jinni felt seriously let down by her former manager. Hanwol had always been the one to boost her spirits and believe in her talents, but right now, he seemed like a whole new person.

"Yeah, yeah... My bad..." Hanwol muttered, his eyes fixed on Jinni.

He wasn't wasted or anything, but he was feeling hot under the collar—frustrated and just not right. His mind couldn't help but wonder, secretly hoping that the rumors about Jinni were true, that she was some sort of wild girl behind everyone's back.

"Look, I'm sorry, Hanwol oppa. I didn't realize my issues were getting to you too. I'll still talk to the CEO about this mess," Jinni said, getting up from her seat and giving a little bow. "I'm leaving now. Take care, oppa."

Hanwol stayed silent, his anger simmering inside. He then stood up, his hand grabbing onto Jinni's arm. “Since you're already here, why don't we make it worth our while, Jinni-ya?" Hanwol offered, trying to sound casual but with a hint of malice.

Jinni turned around, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at the towering man. "What do you mean...?"

Hanwol shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you can let me fuck you to make up for all the trouble you've caused?" His words lacked respect, to take advantage of the situation rather than any genuine care.

Jinni's shock was beyond words. She desperately wanted to believe that Hanwol was just messing around, but the grip on her arm grew tighter, making it impossible for her to break free.

"What…? Come on, oppa, you're drunk or something? You-You're hurting and me," she managed to say, attempting to twist her arm out of his grasp.

"No, I'm not drunk, just annoyed and a little horny.” Hanwol let out a chuckle. “Don't be so uptight. There's no need to maintain that squeaky-clean image anymore. You're not an idol now," he said, reaching for her soft stomach and rubbing it.

Jinni pushed his hand away, fighting harder to break free. "Oppa, please... Please let go of me. I know you're angry with me, but you can't do something like this," she calmly pleaded, attempting to reason with him.

"Do what? Unleash the wild side of Choi Yunjin?" Hanwol swiftly shifted their positions, harshly shoving Jinni onto the couch. "I'll give you a good fuck as a goodbye, Jinni-ya, don't you worry.”

Hanwol wasted no time in yanking his track pants down, revealing his semi-erect cock to Jinni without a hint of shame. Jinni's heart filled with fear and panic, but she managed to keep her cool. She quickly got up from her seat and darted around the table, but before she could escape, Hanwol grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her.

"Ack!" Jinni let out a pained yelp as she crashed back onto the couch.

"Seems like you enjoy playing hard to get, huh?" Hanwol taunted, mocking her while tugging her head towards the edge of the couch. He stepped out of his crumpled pants hanging around his ankles, and slipped his legs under her armpits, effectively locking her arms useless.

Jinni found herself stuck upside-down, her head trapped between Hanwol's legs, with his cock noticeably weighing on her chest. This position made her dizzy, but she continued to fight back, trying to free her arms from behind his knees, yet all her efforts were in vain.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Ugh!" Jinni thrashed about, her panic evident.

"Don't ask dumb questions, Choi Yunjin. You're not that innocent. Just admit it," Hanwol asserted, gripping Jinni's thigh and maneuvering her lower body to align with her chest, pressing her butt against the cushioned backrest.

Jinni kicked her feet in the air, but Hanwol just held onto them, hugging them against his solid chest. He squeezed her ass through the fabric, getting all worked up by its softness as his junk on her breast reached its full glory.

"Yah!!! Stop! Please!!!" Jinni screamed her lungs out, trying to push herself away from between his legs by shoving against the edge of the couch with her palms.

Hanwol pushed himself down even more, trapping her tighter. He smacked her ass, making her flinch. "Can't you just stay put, you bitch?" he said, reaching for the zipper on her pants and unzipping it.

"Hell no!"

The ex-idol wriggled like crazy, but Hanwol had a grip on the waistband, wrenching her pants along her legs until they were stuck at her ankles, tying them together. He folded her calves to the back of the backrest and spread her knees wide, his eyes widening at the sight of her purple lace panties. His hands greedily massaged her inner thighs, ignoring Jinni's cries of resistance.

"Holy shit, you've got a fat pussy," Hanwol leered, pinching her squished cameltoe inside the panties.

Jinni tensed up and cursed at him, "Let me go, you disgusting creep!"

Hanwol scoffed and smacked her crotch with an open palm, causing her legs to close up in pain. He spread them apart again.

"Keep those legs wide open. I'm not done yet. Since you're so eager to scream, I'll give you a reason," he taunted. Without warning, he delivered another stinging slap to her sensitive area.

"Aah!" Jinni cried out in agony, clutching onto his legs for support.

Hanwol arranged her body on the couch so that only her head dangled over the edge. His balls intentionally pressed against her chin, while his rock-hard thick cock twitched whenever her breasts brushed against it.

"Why so quiet now?" he sneered, slapping her pussy once again. But this time, he didn't stop. He kept on repeatedly striking her burning flesh with force.

"It hurts! Fucking stop! Please!!!" Jinni twisted and turned in pain, but Hanwol kept her legs spread wide, keeping them in place.

"Come on! Admit it, you're just a cheap whore. The idol life doesn't suit your horny ass at all," he growled through gritted teeth, matching the rhythm of his hand pounding on her pussy. Jinni cried her heart out, her legs shaking from the intense pain inflicted on her most intimate sensitive area.

Just as Hanwol stopped, he ripped her panties in half and tossed the torn fabric aside. The scent of her pussy hit his nose as he got a full-on view of her naked snatch. He ran his thumb over her neatly trimmed pubes before reaching her clit.

Jinni's legs instantly clamped shut when she felt his touch on her sensitive spot. She let out a weak grunt, unable to lift her head anymore after enduring the relentless smacking on her pussy.

"I fucking told you not to close those legs, bitch," Hanwol reminded her, and another slap followed, leaving her already red and swollen pussy even redder.

"Oww!" Her body was in shock. She felt his finger slip inside her slick labia and slide along her slit. She knew exactly where he was heading, but she couldn't do a single thing to stop him.

Despite Hanwol's strong desire to fuck Jinni senseless right then and there, he knew she would fight back until the bitter end. So, he had to break her spirit first, and the plan was simple - make her own body betray her will. His finger found her entrance and slipped inside smoothly, all at once.

"Ahh!" Jinni's back arched involuntarily, her legs spreading wider as he moved his finger in and out. "Oh, God— S-Stop!"

"Quit pretending, Jinni-ya. Admit it, you love this," he stated, holding onto one of her thighs and adding another finger, fingering her with increasing speed.

"Aah! Fuck! Mm..." She bit her lip, suppressing a moan, feeling his palm smacking her pussy while his fingers explored her tight inner walls.

Hanwol slowed down but didn't stop completely, teasing her senses, making her crave more. He glanced at her flushed face, her chest heaving against his cock.

"You should be the one pleasuring me, you know, but look at you, enjoying yourself instead." Hanwol withdrew his fingers and flicked her clit sharply.

"Oww!" Jinni jerked in a mixture of pain and undeniable pleasure. She saw his hand rising. "N-No, don't— Argh!" A sharp slap instantly numbed her throbbing pussy.

Hanwol's two fingers slipped back into her pussy, now wetter and more fragrant from her growing arousal. Seeing that Jinni was weakened, he shifted to the side, freeing her arms and upper body from beneath him. He then folded her legs towards her chest, ensuring that the former idol had a clear view of how eagerly her pussy clenched around his fingers.

As he withdrew, his fingers glistened wet, some of her juice even dripping on her pubes. "Still refusing to admit that Choi Yunjin is a slut?" he taunted with a smirk, observing her flushed and sweaty face. Their physical exertions had left both of them covered in a sheen of sweat.

"I... I trusted you, Park Hanwol. I thought you were a good person but..." Jinni paused momentarily, "Ugh!" She twisted her body sideways, attempting to kick him off. Too bad he now had a firm grip on both of her legs. "Let me go!”

Hanwol reached down and wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a squeeze. "Save your breath, Jinni-ya. Just quietly let me fuck you. Nobody gives a damn about us anyway. Not anymore.”

He tightened his grip, and Jinni's teary eyes shot daggers at him as she swung her arm, smacking his with all her might. Her face turned pale as she struggled to catch a breath, her mouth wide open.

He stood there, watching as her eyes rolled up, and her feeble attempts to hit him turned into weak tapping. Even the legs he held in his grasp barely put up a fight. Jinni was suffocating, and he knew it.

Not wanting her to pass out just yet, he released her legs and swiftly grabbed her waist, lifting her body up and tossing her onto the couch. Her head found support on the armrest, but it hardly mattered as she painfully gasped for air, coughing uncontrollably.

Hanwol wasted no time and positioned himself between Jinni's trembling legs, dipping his thick pre-drooling cockhead between her slick pussy lips. Still huffing and puffing, Jinni's hands flailed around aimlessly, trying to push him away.

"For fuck's sake! Just take my damn cock, you filthy slut!" Hanwol screamed into her face, his voice filled with rage, as he pinned her hands—one above her head and the other against the backrest—ensuring she had nowhere to escape.

"Yah, Park Hanwol... Haa... Don't you fucking dare! You bastard…”

Jinni's futile words were all she had left to fight against her former manager. However, they seemed to only provoke him further. He bent her body in a double, hoisting her legs up over her head and thrusting his crown against her defenseless little pussy.

Jinni let out a surprised "Eep" and wriggled violently, twisting and arching under the weight of Hanwol's forceful press. From her vantage point, she could see his cock slowly but surely stretching her tight cunt around its girth.

There was simply no way around it: she was doomed the moment Hanwol thrust forward hard, and Jinni's eyes widened as she saw all inches of his cock vanish into her, tearing her out and causing her belly to bulge beneath her belly button.

“Too big! Ahh! Shit— too deep… Fuck!!!” She gasped, barely managing to get the words out before Hanwol began clobberfucking her, pressing her down beneath him in a savage mating press.

He brutalized her with each powerful strike, causing her belly to swell at an insane speed. Her abdomen expanded with loud, squelching bloats and swells that outlined his cockhead inside her, leaving her gasping for breath and overwhelmed by the roughness of his smacking her soaking cunt.

The couch shook with each jab, but for Jinni, it felt like her whole world was being rocked at that moment. Her pussy was filled to the brim, a mix of pain and an unexplainable tingle shooting through her nerves, messing with her senses.

Hanwol locked eyes with Jinni, refusing to break the intense gaze. He kept thrusting his throbbing shaft into her, ramming it in and pulling back, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of his hips. His grunt of exertion reached Jinni's ears, making her shiver at the sound that solidified her lower position between them.

"I took good care of you..." he said, his breath ragged as he slowed down, relishing the tight squeeze of her canal. "So don't feel too bad for being such a good girl for me— Ugh!" he grunted in pure ecstasy.

Jinni narrowed her gaze, weakly looking at him. "I fucking hate you..."

The man slapped Jinni, leaving an immediate mark on her face. "Oh, I know you hate me, but you love this cock, you whore," he informed her.

She shook her head in denial and a hand closed around her neck. "Keuk," the sweaty girl gasped, her breath catching. His grip tightened even more. "Eughh!" Jinni groaned as Hanwol's fingers dug deeper into the flesh around her windpipe.

As his pulsing cock ripped into her, Jinni couldn't hold it and gurgle for mercy. Within moments of this harsh treatment, her body betrayed her, hitting her first mind-blowing orgasm of the night. She shrieked and writhed wild under relentless Hanwol.

Hanwol kept on holding onto her ankle above her head while another grip was on her bruised neck. Jinni expression was all messed up, teeth clenched tight as Hanwol gave her the fuck of a lifetime.

His hips barged down like a sledgehammer, slamming his balls on her entrance harder, causing her juice splatter everywhere. Her stomach bulged out even more, and Jinni threw her arms around it, wailing and going absolutely crazy. It made her nauseous for some reason.

Hanwol’s hand pressed the bulge in her stomach and a prolonged groan escaped through her constricted throat. He applied more pressure to the bulge, making her jerk in response, completely overwhelmed by the sensation of his cock filling her up.

Hanwol stopped and pulled out. Jinni convulsed as those veins and ridges of his cock dragged along her sensitive velvety walls. Before she could process anything else, Hanwol thrust back inside, causing her to cry out as the force pushed her upward.

"Ahh! P-Please..." her shaky voice was barely a whisper.

He set an unforgiving pace, his cock relentlessly hitting all the sweet spots inside her. The sounds she made with each pump were like exclamation marks. Whenever his tip brushed against her cervix, her eyes rolled back. Jinni was dripping with fluids, leaking and gushing all around him. Some even trickled down to her butthole.

"Please what?"

Hanwol loosened his grip on her throat, giving her a chance to breathe and speak, but all she could do was whimper and dig her nails into his shoulders. She was on the edge, feeling nothing but knots in her stomach, desperately craving release.

Hanwol let his hand slip between their bodies, pinching and tearing her stiff clit to stimulate her even more with both pain and pleasure. She shook against him as his hips roughly pierced into her. And then without pausing, he grabbed her left leg, placing it on his shoulder, driving his cock to the deepest depth of her pussy.

“Oh shit! You're milking me good, Jinni-ya. Haa— Fuck!”

Once again, she was choked, gasping for air beneath him, holding onto his muscular body as he both strangled and inflated her.

Hanwol took a deep breath and let out a blissful bellow as he shoved his entire cock into Jinni's pussy—way more than she ever thought possible. She went cross-eyed and had another body-shaking orgasm as he exploded inside her, filling her up with his hot, churning seed.

Her poor belly was filled with an excessive amount of fresh semen, a lot of which spilled back out and pooled on the couch. Her trembling hand clutched her swollen stomach.

Jinni was completely shattered, reduced to a wreck by his violation. Hanwol stayed inside her for a moment, panting, before slowly pulling his cock out from her cum-filled cunt, causing her pussy to squirt her nectar all over his crotch as she spasmed and arched her body, overwhelmed by ecstasy.

Hanwol wasn't about to give Jinni a break. He released her neck, and before she could even take a breath, he shoved all his fingers into her mouth, except for his thumb. Jinni gagged out loud, her chest sucking in as she struggled to handle it.

"You don't think we're done, do you? We're both jobless, so we've got all the time in the world to have some fun," he said with bitterness in his voice, recalling how he was unjustly fired.

Anger consumed Hanwol as he viciously attacked her hypersensitive pussy, aiming her clit at the tips of his fingers, repeatedly slapping it in an upward motion. With him between her legs, Jinni couldn't even close them, so they kicked against the couch on his sides.

Jinni's vocal resistance was reduced to gagging and retching as his fingers probed the depths of her throat, forcing her saliva to dribble down her cheeks. Her hands clenched his shirt tightly, but it didn't seem to have any noticeable effect.

Hanwol yanked his hand away from Jinni's mouth, and she shot up, coughing and sticking her tongue out. He grabbed her messy black hair, pulling her up while pointing his cock towards her mouth.

He pressed the tip of his cock against her cracked lips, feeling the anticipation of her warm mouth overwhelming him. Her lips tightened, her teeth grinding together in denial. She glared up at him, a mix of shock and disgust on her face.

Leaning over her, Hanwol tightened his grip on her hair, yanking out a few strands as she tried to pry his hands off. "Listen here... I'm not letting you go. I bet nobody even knows you're here, so might as well enjoy this like a slut you are."

"I am not your fucking slut!" she spat, her chest heaving with anger.

He responded with a loud slap across her face. Her lips parted, and Hanwol sighed as he invaded her mouth, feeling it close around him. He loosened his grip on Jinni's hair, his fingers cradling the back of her head. The wet heat got his pulse racing. He let out a breathy exhale, his eyes rolling back as Jinni reluctantly sucked on his shaft.

"Fuck," he hissed softly.

Jinni's head bobbed back and forth, her tongue embracing his thick flesh. It felt great until he realized she was just going through the motions. It was mechanical and lacked passion. Hanwol growled, his fingers twisting in her hair again before rocking his hips forward, sliding past the barrier of her throat. She gagged, her body tensing, and he groaned at the tight grip around him.

Hips jerking, he grabbed the side of Jinni's head with his other hand to hold her in place. If that's how she wanted it, he'd give it to her. Jinni's eyes darted up to him as he grinned down at her before shooting his cock forward, widening her eyes in surprise.

Hanwol was totally into it, feeling the warm, wet, tight glide of Jinni's throat around his pulsating cock. He thrust again. Her throat tightened. Jinni gagged and struggled, which only turned him on even more. He held onto her head firmly and pounded away, his hips going at it like a jackhammer, giving Jinni's throat no mercy.

Her knees shifted on the squeaky cushion beneath her. She tried to squirm away, but Hanwol had her face locked in place. Poor girl whimpered, choking for air. Drool and precum dripped down her chin, making a sloppy mess.

Feeling the climax approaching way too fast, Hanwol pulled back, his cock slipping out of Jinni's mouth. She coughed and spat, trying to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed, lips all swollen, and her skin had this slick shine to it. Hanwol licked his lips. She looked enticing. He gripped his throbbing member tightly to hold back the eruption.

He ran his fingers through Jinni's hair, trying to soothe her, but she shot him an angry glare with those slightly unfocused eyes of hers. Hanwol leaned down and licked the sweat off her ear, making her shudder as she exhaled shakily.

"Please," Jinni rasped, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. She needed a break. A quick one would suffice.

Hanwol raised an eyebrow at her and straightened up. His cockhead brushed against her lips, but Jinni pulled away, denying him access. Hanwol just tugged her hair, yanking her head back. He bucked his hips forward as he entered her mouth again, rubbing himself against the inside of her cheeks and then felt Jinni's throat moving as she swallowed.

Honestly, Hanwol couldn't remember when he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he saw Jinni's lips wrapped tight around his girth. Her eyes were shut, brows furrowed, and she really got her technique down this time. Her lips and tongue worked their magic, occasionally grazing him with her teeth, making her gag even before he was halfway down her throat.

Jinni spread her knees wider, like she was trying to ground herself somehow, and her head started moving faster. She forced herself onto him, shaking and gagging as Hanwol pushed past the resistance at the back of her windpipe before pulling back.

Moaning and totally lost in the moment, Hanwol tightened his grip on Jinni's hair, his mouth hanging open as he kept hammering forward. Jinni's eyes shook with fear, but she didn't back away, knowing things would get even rougher if she did. Instead, she braced herself as Hanwol went at her mouth with renewed intensity. He grunted, completely caught up in the pleasure.

She was hot, wet, and soft, spinning his world around like crazy. He fucked her face even faster, pounding into her stretched throat, savoring every desperate gag. Jinni's eyes rolled back, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Hanwol let out a loud cry as he buried deep. Leaning forward, he cradled Jinni's head in his hands as he blew his load down her throat.

With no choice in the matter, Jinni swallowed every drop Hanwol gave her, but some of it dribbled from her mouth, ending up on her chin. When he was finally done, Hanwol pulled away, leaving Jinni slumped forward on the couch. She was awake but weak, panting loud and hard.

Hanwol's thirst was somewhat quenched, enough to make the air feel steamy as he finally took off his shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He then helped Jinni peel off her sweaty clothes, tearing her tight shirt in half down her back and yanking it off her body, leaving her kneeling there on all fours in her bralettes.

Not that he cared about her boob size or anything, but he figured it'd be better if she was completely naked. So, he unhooked her bralettes, letting the lacy fabric drop down. Jinni didn't put up as much of a fight anymore, which made him give her bare ass a smack, printing a reddish mark on her skin.

Jinni fell silent, her heavy breathing the only audible sound in the room. Yet, Hanwol's frustration lingered, leaving him unsatisfied. He had come this far, so why not push further? That thought crossed his mind.

Giving in to his negative emotions, Hanwol grabbed a handful of Jinni's hair, pulling her upright. With his other hand, he explored her chest, groping her breast. Moving on, he caressed her stomach while gazing into her fluttering, puffy eyes.

"You're gonna be filled up with nothing but my cum, Jinni-ya," he remarked, pressing his palm against her soft tummy.

Jinni simply stared at him, her mouth dry as she swallowed hard. Hanwol didn't require a response either way. He guided her down onto the couch, positioning her in front of the coffee table. Then, he bent her over the rectangular surface.

On the other side of the table sat a glass of milk he had served her earlier. Jinni's blank gaze glued on it, her indifference palpable. That was, until he spread her ass and spat right on her asshole. Her eyes widened as she glanced back at him.

"Wh-What the hell are you doing? Yah! You-You can fucking ruin my pussy, damn it! Don't you—Argh!!"

Hanwol stepped on her head, causing her hands to flail behind her in a desperate attempt to shield her untouched anus. That turned out to be a major mistake as he captured her wrists and bound them with his shirt he had hanging on his shoulder earlier.

With her hands tied, she was once again at his mercy as he gave her pussy a hard slap from behind. "Ahh! Fuck!" She gritted her teeth in pain, yet her legs trembled, and her juices leaked from her sore pussy.

"What the fuck? Did you just come from that? What a slut," he scoffed, delivering another solid smack to her pussy.

Her body shook even harder, her toes curling as more fluid dripped onto the floor. Biting her lip, she suppressed a moan. She wasn't about to give Hanwol the satisfaction he craved by admitting that her body was practically in overdrive because of all the sensation scratching under her skin.

Hanwol's mouth found her glistening skin, planting wet kisses on her shoulder and neck, while his hands reached around her belly, giving it a gentle massage.

"You are so fucking erotic right now," Hanwol murmured. "Would be a shame to let you go so soon..." His fingers traced light patterns across Jinni's waist, causing goosebumps to rise in their trail. "I should keep you like this. Completely naked, Choi Yunjin."

Jinni closed her eyes, trying to imagine she was anywhere else. With anyone else. But then, a warm, wet tongue licked up the side of her neck, and she reluctantly opened her eyes again.

The sensation felt strangely good. Unwanted, of course, but still pleasurable. She didn't want to get lost in the sensations and forget the nightmare—the fact that he was forcing himself on her. Hanwol's fingers trailed down her body, reaching the cleft of her ass, making Jinni tense up.

"This could have gone differently, Jinni-ya," Hanwol said, sounding almost wistful. It took a moment for Jinni to swallow the lump in her throat. "You could have just given in. Let loose and fuck like wild rabbits.”

She shook her head. "I used to care for you, Park Hanwol. I used to adore you. But not anymore... Go fuck yourself,” Jinni calmly cursed him, straining against her restraints, trying to free herself. A firm hand clamped onto the curve of Jinni's hip, and she tensed as his middle finger pressed down between her ass cheeks, pressing against the entrance of her anus.

"Please, don't. I'm begging you," she huffed, fear evident in her voice.

Hanwol loosened his grip a bit, but his finger stayed put, poking her asshole.

"Come on, please," Jinni pleaded again, tilting her head to catch a glimpse of her former manager's face over her shoulder.

Hanwol sneered at her, his grip digging into her hip like an eagle on a mouse, and a surge of panic shot through Jinni's chest before he violently shoved his finger up her ass.

The pain was unbearable. Jinni let out a shrill scream, feeling the dry, burning agony, and desperately tried to wiggle her hips away. But Hanwol had a tight grip, keeping his finger firmly lodged inside her.

Jinni slumped against the table, her head hanging down. Then, he twisted his finger inside her, making her insides clench and spasm in torment. It hurt like a bitch. Tears squeezed through her tightly shut eyelids.

Slowly, he pulled the finger out, making it feel like he was about to rip her guts out too. Jinni took a shaky breath, only to have it shoved back in with brutal force.

Something tore. Jinni felt it like a blazing inferno ripping through her, and she let out an anguished wail. She slammed harder against the table, all her muscles toned up, desperate for any escape that seemed impossible.

Meanwhile, Hanwol's other hand trailed up her spine, ending at the base of her skull, and he yanked her back against him. Full of excitement, he drove his finger deeper, like it was drilling through her freaking guts.

"Pull it out! It hurts!" she screamed, her tied hands twisting trying to reach out to her burning ass. "Please! Ahh!"

But Hanwol didn't give a shit. He kept curling his finger inside her until Jinni's vision blurred at the edges and the room started spinning like a damn tornado. She wished for the sweet relief of passing out. At least then, she wouldn't have to endure the humiliation and agony.

Closing her eyes, she tried to surrender to the darkness, but then Hanwol's thrusts eased up, finally stopping, and she grunted as he jerked his finger out of her and shoved her face down onto the table.

Hanwol freed her hands and instead used a shirt to cover her face. "Hmph!" It wasn't as suffocating as when he choked her, but she still had to inhale deeply through the fabric to get a breath of air, resulting in a constant huffing sound escaping her mouth.

As Hanwol's hands slid hotly along her hips again, Jinni tensed up. She could feel the pressure of the man's cock, and it seemed unbelievably larger than when she had taken it in her mouth. Hanwol had been big before, making her choke and struggle to accommodate his entire length.

Now, Jinni silently panicked, fearing that his cock wouldn't fit before he forcefully pushed it inside her. It was too much. Hanwol's cock was larger than his finger. Jinni screamed, her nails digging into the tabletop as she desperately searched for something, anything to escape, only to find more pain. Hanwol pressed deeper, thrusting his hips forcefully until he was completely buried inside Jinni's already abused hole.

Jinni tore around him, screaming, jerking, and clawing at the table as her weak body protested against the invasion.

The intoxicated man groaned behind her, his hands gripping and releasing Jinni's curvy hips. "Oh fuck—so tight!" he moaned in bliss. "You're squeezing my cock, Jinni-ya!"

He slowly pulled out, causing Jinni to hiss as her insides clung to the retreating girthy member. But Hanwol didn't leave her completely. He paused with the head of his cock still inside her and, with another groan, thrust back in.

Jinni grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. She wouldn't scream again. Hanwol could take what he wanted, do as he pleased, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her break yet her loud heaving continued without a second break.

More tears streamed down her face as Jinni pressed her forehead harder against the table. His thrusts were forceful and deep, pushing her stomach against the table. Jinni held onto that small pain—it provided a temporary escape, allowing her to focus on one thing instead of the other, although it didn't last long.

Hanwol leaned over her, sliding one hand into Jinni's hair, pulling her head up and back. "I will have you," he hissed in her ear. "Your body. Your pain. Your screams. And you'll accept it soon enough."

Jinni gagged as he suddenly impaled sharply, her eyes blinking open, seeing only white blurry vision. Her body had loosened, her constricting passage slick from his precum and her own fluids. Hanwol slowed down, penetrating her belly deeply until Jinni could feel the bulge inside pressing the table.

Shifting his hips, Hanwol changed the angle of his thrusts, and Jinni's mouth fell open. The pain began to fade, replaced by a burning, aching pleasure that she denied in her heart. She refused to give in. She wouldn't break. She wouldn't allow this to be anything more than what it was—a brutal violation of her body and mind.

"Never!" Jinni exclaimed, but her body had a mind of its own.

Her clit was throbbing, starting off slow but getting stronger with each scratching thrust from Hanwol. Her skin flushed, heat spreading through her chest, nipples fully standing, and her pussy leaking excessively. It was making her dizzy. Jinni's body was on fire, and she couldn't help but let out a moan between her deep breaths.

Hanwol chuckled, loosening his grip on Jinni's hair as his hand trailed down her arched back. He grabbed her ass, going harder and faster, fucking her with wild abandon. Jinni's head dropped forward, mouth hanging open, her spit soaking the cloth around her head, choking on the mix of pleasure and distress.

One of Hanwol's hands found her dripping pussy and began stroking her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You see, Jinni-ya," Hanwol groaned, giving her clit a wicked twist that made her stomach flutter. "You're a slut. Your body knows it, even if you deny it."

Jinni shook her head, denying it, even as her body burned with heat, desire, and pulsating bliss. Sweat clung to her skin, beading on her forehead and rolling down her back and chest. But with each passing moment, her denials grew weaker as Hanwol's actions intensified.

Hanwol pulled out of Jinni, gripping her shoulders and turning her towards the davenport. They slipped on the pool of her sticky juices on the marble floor, barely managing to stay upright before falling onto the cushions.

Quickly kneeling between her thighs, Hanwol guided his cock towards her puckered and twitching asshole. This time, as he entered Jinni, her ass welcomed him, making her feel full to her stomach. It stretched her virgin hole wider than she thought possible, almost as if it would tear from the sheer force. But Hanwol didn't hold back, pulling out and thrusting back in.

Jinni's breath caught in her throat as a new sensation shot through her like a lightning bolt. Her arousal ignited, and she squirted girl juice across Hanwol's chest, her legs quivering as he spread them to the sides and continued to pound into her, his cockhead slamming her guts from the inside.

Hanwol was going at it, pounding away with all his might, and the room echoed with the sound of slapping flesh and heavy breathing. Jinni couldn't help but moan, her body heating up and craving something she had never felt before.

"Come on, say it," Hanwol growled, thrusting so hard that Jinni felt like she was getting launched off the couch. She held onto her legs tightly, trying to keep up with the intensity. She was determined to keep her pride.

Jinni tried closing her eyes, hoping to escape the overwhelming sensations, but darkness only seemed to amplify every touch, every thrust, and every surge of heat that washed over her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Hanwol lost in his own lust, and it made her feel ashamed and disgusted with herself.

"Just say it!" Hanwol demanded again, his voice a mix of ecstasy and a dangerous growl. His hips moved with a ferocity that hit Jinni in all the right places, and she whimpered as her clit pulsated.

Her whole body felt like it was about to explode when she couldn't hold back anymore and screamed, muffled, "What do you want from me?! Ahh!"

Hanwol ripped off the shirt covering her face and kept thrusting. Finally, Jinni could breathe freely. He didn't care about anything else now, just fucking her relentlessly, over and over, until his rhythm became erratic and Jinni's eyes rolled back.

He was on the edge of climax. "Just say you're a slut!" Hanwol snarled.

His body tensed up as his orgasm ripped through him. He buried himself deep inside her, pressing his hips against her firmly, and Jinni bit her lip as she felt his hot load flooding her. It felt like he was shooting directly into her stomach, making her feel bloated.

Hanwol jerked and kept going until his orgasm subsided, and Jinni desperately hoped he would be done with her now. He slumped forward for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his high faded into a satisfied glow.

Letting out a soft groan, Hanwol looked up and let go of Jinni's legs, reaching for her swollen clit instead. No words were needed; his gaze alone conveyed what he wanted as he gripped her pussy lips tightly.

She shook her head. "No…" she weakly said, her voice filled with emotion.

Hanwol's eyes flickered with irritation, and he gave her clit a sharp, painful twist. Jinni hissed but then followed it up with a precise stroke that sent waves of pleasure through her. He fingered her pussy, twisted his hand like a screw, and then pulled back until his thumb teased her entrance.

Tears welled up in Jinni's eyes, and all she could manage was a choked-off sob. She pressed her fist against her mouth, biting down on her finger. Hanwol twisted his hand around her crotch so forcefully that Jinni feared he might rip off her clit.

Jinni let out a cry, sounding like a wounded animal on the verge of giving up, and she slipped off the couch, landing on the cold floor. She huffed, clutching her stomach, feeling too weak to move any further. The tingling sensation all over her body just added to her discomfort.

Hanwol flopped onto the couch, running his fingers through his damp hair and letting out a huff. He kicked back, staring up at the ceiling and realizing that the living room had been dim for god knows how long. The day was almost over, slowly turning into dusk.

Out of the blue, a laugh burst out of him, followed by a scoff. "We're both a mess now. We're ruined, aren't we?" he mumbled, catching a whiff of the unmistakable scent of sex lingering in the air. Exhaustion was finally getting the best of him, and his tired eyes fluttered, gradually closing.

Everything was cluttered. His life, his house, his future— a huge chaos. Strangely enough, he didn't feel crushed by it all. He knew he'd deal with those problems when the time came in whatever way he could. Jinni too.

With his eyes shut, Hanwol's lips moved silently. "Jinni-ya, should I be your manager again after this?" No response came from the violated girl, and a breath later, he drifted off to sleep.

#kpop smut #kpop gg #kpop girls #male reader #non con smut #nmixx smut #nmixx jinni #Jinni smut #male oc #girl group smut #commissioned work

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lesbianralzarek · 1 year

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tumblr in reddit terms

blogs: personal subreddits where the theme/topic is 99% of the time just “me and whatever the hell i feel like at the moment”. for reference, the most common other theme rn is “wizard roleplay that never breaks character”

reblogs: crossposts. these are crucial to maintaining tumblr’s ecosystem. due to blogs generally having fewer followers than subreddits have subscribers, this is the way that posts get seen and passed around. the vast majority of posts on a person’s blog tend to be reblogs, so if the people you follow dont reblog a whole lot, your dashboard is gonna be a ghost town. post limit (combined total of reblogs and original posts per day) is 250, so feel free to go hog wild

tags: this one is complicated. theyre a combination of flairs and Comments But Low-key. you can use them for organization and to avoid seeing content you dont want to (go to your blog, settings, account settings, content you see, and then add tags you want tumblr to warn you about before seeing it). if op tags the post #reddit (in the tags, not the body of the post), itll show up in the #reddit tag when anyone searches that tag. tags are also used for comments that dont really add anything to the post. you know how a jpeg gets kinda gross when its been through a million screenshots and has ifunny watermarks and shit? thats what adding “lmao same” as a comment does to a post. comments stay on reblogs, while tags show up in 4 places: op’s notifications, the notifs of whoever you reblogged it from, when someone clicks on the “notes” button of a post and actively looks for the tags left on it, and when people view your specific reblog of the post (like a follower would on their dashboard)

likes: upvotes but weaker. almost everyone turns off all the algorithms (settings, account settings, dashboard preferences, toggle off the first 3 options. also, make sure your dashboard is on "following" and not "for you". this is highly recommended), so leaving a like doesnt boost the post in any way. they still matter to some people. you can also use them to bookmark a post and go back to your likes later

enthusiastic and/or hyperbolic tags: reddit gold. you wanna let op know you like their art? leave something like ”#printing this out and stapling it to my forehead #op you wanna get married?” in the tags

pornbots: both reddit and tumblr have an issue with them. we block and report them on sight. they usually have hot women as their icons, no posts or reblogs, and a description like “22, brazil, nurse <3″. try to not look like that if you dont wanna get blocked by everyone you follow

blocking: you have this as well, but it seems like a bigger deal on reddit. the reason we are not twitter is because we block bitches who annoy us and move on with our day. do not feed the trolls

things we dont have:

karma: clout-chasing is The Most embarrassing thing you can possibly do on this site. we are all in this circus together and the clown who gets the most laughs is still a clown. popular users will literally deactivate sometimes because clout is a burden. no one here makes money

#reddit #reddit migration #tumblr guide #lemme know if you have any questions btw. happy to help

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cautuscoralcoast · 3 months

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"Just Me, Myself, And I......And Rabbits?"

Rayne Ames x Reader

Synopsis - You recount your life story when it was just yourself: Alone. With no friends, family, absolutely no one to lend you a shoulder. You remember the many hardships you faced as a child struggling to survive. Despite being born into a wealthy noble family, it was nothing but a house full of strangers. You only had yourself to lean on. So, imagine your surprise when you befriended the prefect of Adler, divine visionary, Rayne Ames.

Word Count: 2.3k

Tw. Mentions of child abuse

Prequel and expansion to Constant

Part of "You, Me, Rabbits, and Magical Beasts" series. Though this could be read as a standalone, you can find the others by clicking the tag with the name of the series to find all works.

There was a time you wished you had everything there was to own in the world.

You wanted a family: Two loving parents and possibly two other siblings. You wanted friends: Two or more would have been enough for you. You wanted a house: One where wouldn't be forced to leave, and one that you could call a house. You wanted to wear pretty clothes: Cloth softer than old worn rags. You wanted a room: One that you could have to yourself at any given time. You wanted a bed: As fluffy as a cloud and warm like a mother's embrace. You wanted toys: Dolls to play house with and toy blocks to build the house. You wanted a childhood: Not one that had to be cut short when you forced to confront the cruel reality of the world.

You were born as a single liner. Nothing special: Nothing remarkable. With just one line, you were the same as almost everyone else in the world. In a society built upon magic skill and capabilities, you were just an average child.

However, because the world was built upon such a hierarchy, you drew the short end of the stick. Born into a noble family known for birthing two‐liners, you were burdened with the injustice and societal pressures from the start. Eyes were constantly pointing knives at you; Staring, as if you were an insect, a pest, a small little piece of grime, that's how they looked at you.

You were born into a house of strangers.

Where love was supposed to reside, there was never any left for you. Where you were supposed to sleep in a nice warm bed was just a blanket on the floor. At an age where you should be playing with toys, you had crumbling wood and sticks. That family shared no love with you; There was no love to be shown to a stranger in their home.

You once wished you could dine with the noble family in the dining room. However, strangers weren't allowed to eat at the table.

You once wished you could be part of the family: Someone they could call their own. However, strangers could never be family.

You once wished for this or that; That was all it was, wishes. You had once wished for an ideal life and perfect family. However, it was difficult to keep that wishful thinking when you saw them extend their kindness to other strangers. They wanted to show their love, just not to you.

You were five when you grew up and saw the real world. You saw how hypocritical that family was: How wretched and disgusting they were. They weren't the only ones; There were plenty of others who saw them mistreat you and never did so much as lift a finger to bring you comfort. It was an awful realization for a child to face. The fact that there were awful people in the world was mind shattering enough — but to learn that they could be related to you by blood? That was something.

You were seven when you ran away from home. That house wasn't nice or kind to little children like yourself. You knew you would perish if you stayed there much longer. You saw how their eyes lingered on you with malice and evil. Despite that, you knew that there was even more malice and evil outside beyond that house. This world was not kind to little children like yourself.

You were just a child, and yet, you held the determination to survive and live a life better than what that family could offer. You didn't know what you wanted quite yet; All you knew was that you didn't want to live in a world that was mean to little children like yourself. You were just a child, a single liner, small, and malnourished — And yet, you held ambition so great it bested even the most ambitious gods.

You were eight when you were taken by an old couple: Zoologists. They found you scavenging for food. They wanted to ignore you — simply just another orphan in the city. Despite how much pity they held for you, it wasn't something too uncommon. You were just another victim to this social hierarchy.

"You're going to die if you go over there."

The old couple were startled to hear you talk. In disbelief that a child as young as you could say something like that. They were even more confused by the words that came out of your mouth; They were going to die?

The old man walked towards you and kneeled down to the best of his ability. Wanting to cry at the sight of your thin form, the old man held his composure and asked, "What do you mean?"

With a monotone expression and tone, you pointed to a nearby street storm drain. Without breaking eye contact with the old man, you said, "The rats told me. They said not to go there 'cause a big scary monster is going there right now through the sewers. They said I would die if I go there."

The old man was stunned by the words of the young child and struggled to get up. The old woman came up to you and held your shoulders. Right when she was about to ask you about something, screams could be heard coming from the direction the couple intended to go to.

Five people would perish that day. A rogue monster made its way into the sewage system of the city and managed to wreck havoc in the local area. Luckily, there were very few people there at the time — keeping casualties low.

The old couple — Mrs. And Mr. Whitechapel — decided to adopt you. With the ability to communicate with prey and hunted animals, it was the perfect skill to use as a zoologist. They gave you a room, bought you dolls, sewed clothes made specifically for you, and gave you a bed.

Mrs. and Mr. Whitechapel almost cried when you asked if it was alright to eat at the dinner table.

"I'm a stranger. Strangers aren't allowed to eat with families."

Mrs. Whitechapel held your hands as she pushed you onto the raised seat. "As long as you're in this home, you will always have a place at this table."

You were twelve when you called it your home. This was your home, and nothing would change that. That old couple, they were your family, and you wouldn't wish for anything else. That room, bed, and toys, they were yours and only yours.

You smiled when you three took the first of many family photos.

The old couple taught you everything there was to know about zoology. You studied sciences not taught in schools and things that would never be known to the populace. There were no monsters, just animals and species. No matter how monstrous something was, it had a place in the ecosystem and therefore was an animal with its own niche; With your ability, you understood this well.

You were fourteen when the old couple asked if you would like to go to Easton Magic Academy.

"Why would I? You two don't use magic when doing research."

Mr. Whitechapel across from you and just sighed.

"That's because we're old; We can no longer go actively work out on the field where we work up close with magical beasts and animals alike. We can't teach you how to get research by yourself without doing it directly — the teachers at the academy can."

Mrs. Whitechapel gave you a gentle smile before speaking, "Besides, you'll get a chance to meet others your age. You won't have to sit around here with old wrinkly us any longer."

"I suppose......"

"Maybe you'll have a lover by the time you come back to us—"

"You can only dream, old hag!"

You were sixteen when you began to attend Easton Magic Academy.

Despite the wishes from the Whitechapels, you were unable to make friends. Your distant and quiet personality made it difficult for you to befriend others. You were uncomfortable by constant attention and talking. You were introverted and not as charismatic others. Not even your own roommate wanted to be friends with you. Even at the sociable Adler dorms, there was no one who wanted to befriend you.

You realized early on that it would be unlikely that you make friends for the next three to four years.

It was during this year that you noticed your peer, Rayne Ames. Quiet, emotionless, stoic, rude, brash, Rayne Ames.

Someone like him, born a double-liner and strong enough to dominate your seniors, it wasn't any surprise to see him gain popularity.

All of the girls wanted him. They fawned over his looks and bad boy persona. The girls in your classed absolutely were smitten over his cold-hearted nature.

"I want him to carry me!"

"I want him to whisper in my ear!"

"I want him to step on me!"

"What?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? You know I'm right!"

And all the boys wanted to best him. Insecure and jealous of Rayne, there were often disputes between him and some of the other boys — especially when they heard he was collecting coins with the intention of becoming Divine Visionary.

However, it was none of that that caught your attention.

It was more of the fact that you shared a little less than half your classes with him. It's difficult not to notice him when you two nearly go the same direction for each period.

Rayne Ames was just a nuisance to you at first.

He brought trouble with him everywhere in the first year. Upcoming Divine Visionary and being close to it, he was constantly being challenged. Plus, the fact you shared quite a few classes with him, this often burdened you.

It was in your second year at Easton Magic Academy that you noticed how similar you two were.

Despite not being popular or with friends, you often tutored your classmates with assignments and held small talk. You knew how to socialize well enough to talk to others — just not enough that people enjoy talking to you.

Whereas with Rayne, he had a difficult time understanding others. You noticed how sarcasm went over his head and sometimes took things too seriously. You saw how he couldn't recognize facial expressions that well, either. Rayne was socially awkward.

You couldn't help but relate just a bit with him.

Despite his infamy and popularity, he was quite isolated: Just like you.

Unlike you, Rayne had his roommate who enjoyed his company. He had someone: You had no one.

It was in your third year at Easton Magic Academy that you finally spoke to Rayne Ames after years of watching him from afar.

You shared quite a good share of classes with Ames in your previous years; However, this was the first time you shared all your classes with him.

This was also the first zoology class he ever took.

"You want to hold it?"

Those were the first words you said to him.

"Yes."

This was the first word he ever said to you.

By this point, Rayne Ames was something untouchable. He was a Divine Visionary, the prefect of Adler — He is the Rayne Ames: And you were you.

You weren't as extraordinary as him, nor were you anything special. Despite all that, you decided to take a chance.

It was magical beasts and bunnies that brought you two together.

It was your stories that stuck you two together.

You learned that day about how obsessed Rayne was with bunnies — especially the small pink ones. You made him out to be this terrifying, merciless guy — but it was difficult not to laugh when he stopped mid conversation to chase after a rabbit.

You two weren't quite friends at this point in your story together. All you knew about Rayne was that he was the Rayne Ames and obsessed over rabbits: All Rayne knew about was that you could talk to rabbits. Despite that, you do recount the moment you two really, truly, became friends.

You were helping Rayne feed his countless rabbits. As you sat down to hold one of them, you felt something soft thrown on top of you.

"I got you this blanket as a thanks for helping me....a lot."

You pulled on the edge to see the blanket, and you weren't surprised to see rabbits all over it. You wrapped the blanket around yourself and smiled at him. "Thank you for the blanket!"

Rayne just stared at you before sitting down next to you. Soon being swarmed by rabbits, you two sat in a peaceful silence.

Silence was something that filled the air rather than conversation. You weren't used to talking, and Rayne just didn't feel like talking. Never was it awkward nor was uncomfortable — it was warm.

"Rayne?"

"Hmm?"

"You'd say we're friends?" You asked with hesitation. You never had a friend to know what friendship looks and feels like. Rayne was also difficult to read with his stoic expression. You didn't know if he thought of you as a friend or if you were just some stranger he was being kind to.

"Yes."

You just laid down on the floor as rabbits swarmed up close.

"Neat."

You didn't know what else to say. You were so happy you didn't know how to react. You felt yourself grow flustered and covered your face with the blanket.

It once just you and you alone; With no one else to bring you comfort and happiness, it was a lonely life.

You once wished for parents, and you got that. You once wished for a home, a bed, toys, and clothes, and you got that. You once wished for a friend or two, and you finally got one.

Just what more could you wish for?

Thank you for reading!

#mashle x reader #mashle #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #reader centered #you me rabbits and magical beasts

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theorphicangel · 5 months

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“𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.”

[ 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

tags: strangers to lovers, roommate au!, best friend’s brother, fluff, mutual pining, smut, 18+

synopsis: In a desperate search of a new roommate, you have little to no choice but to accept your best friend's / best barista in the world's offer of letting his older brother rent out the room, who just so happens to be conventionally attractive.

You swear nothing will happen between the two of you but one thing eventually leads to another and you find yourself in his bed, leading to an unofficial roommates with benefits situation.

You know deep down it's wrong and you're worried when you start catching feelings...but it's okay because it's only temporary, right?

Series. next chapter

chapter one: a partridge in a pear tree (that doesn’t know how to fly.)

“So…is this everything?”

“Seems like it.” your roommate nods along— well now to be your ex-roommate .

The keys are already placed on the counter as well as the payment of last month’s rent. It’s a shame that the contract had to be cut short immediately, which was ultimately due to her boyfriend’s eagerness to spend their very first Christmas living together.

You are happy for her. Intensely so. You’ve seen the two of them together and they just seem to make butter melt. It all happened so fast, one date, then two, then seven and suddenly they’re speeding ahead to get moved in.

But nevertheless, you’re happy for the two of them. It’s nearly the holidays, basically the perfect excuse to get as romantic as you want.

You let out a sweet smile at MJ, helping her in carrying bags down to her car. As you made your trips up and down the apartment block you couldn’t help but think about the fact that she was already your third roommate this year, only managing to outlast your previous roommates by two months.

And it’d seemed like you guys had just begun to develop a close bond, until she broke the news that she was moving out at the beginning of December.

Which meant that you were spending Christmas alone… again and already your landlord is pushing for you to keep an eye out for any possible tenant around; silently hoping that you can find a replacement before the end of the year.

It’s another burden put on your shoulders. A burden that should be the job of the landlord, not you.

Just when you had thought that you were getting to the end of the year stress-free, now you’re dealing with the exhausting task of finding another roommate or else you’ll be paying double for the rent.

And if the best case scenario works out for you, then you’d have to go through the awkward roommate phase for the nth time: the awkward first meetings, the uncomfortable shuffles around each other, trying to navigate between each other’s own personal space and privacy. I mean, it took you and MJ a few months before you guys had grown accustomed to each other. She was really beginning to feel like more than a roommate, becoming one of your closest friends.

As you both start bringing down the last of her things, the signals to give your last goodbyes draw near. It’s more sentimental than you thought it would be. The two of you find yourselves in a latching hug, squeezing each other tightly.

“God– I know I haven’t known you for long but I’ll miss our little talks in the kitchen all night.” MJ hums, her head leaning on your shoulder.

You agree along with her, “Me too. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy with another roommate.”

“You can always come and visit me and Peter y’know, we only live a few minutes away from downtown.”

You pull away from each other, meeting each other’s eyes. The cold breeze of the December air in New York whips over the two of you, cheeks frozen in frostbite.

“I know, I know, I’ll see if I can make it down for Christmas.”

“You better swear to that.” And it’s at her words that you outstretch your hand, pinky finger in the air. MJ’s own finger meets your own, sealing the promise for definite.

“I promise.”

“Good.” She smiles and you both indulge in one last hug before you wave her off to the car. She wishes you luck on finding a new roommate and you reciprocate the wish on her and Peter’s future together.

Making your way back up to your empty apartment, reality now kicks in. Standing in the doorway at what used to be MJ’s bedroom, the emptiness and plainness of the room reminds you once more that you are alone again.

You wonder how long it’ll take to find a roommate. Not long you hope since New York’s housing crisis isn’t getting any better but you hope to find a somewhat decent human being. Anxiety blooms at your stomach at the thought of them being anything like your first ever roommate – someone who didn’t know how to clean up after themselves, leaving you to become their own personal maid.

The thought remains with you for the rest of the morning, your routine feeling a little more woeful than usual. Your anxiety and overthinking followed you around like a little stray puppy, claiming you to be its rightful owner. It followed you through the bustling streets of New York as you interweaved between busy people all trying to make it to their own nine to fives.

Even when you stepped into O’hara’s , the puppy continued to follow you. O’hara’s was a little Mexican cafe/bakery that you had discovered in your second year of university. As soon as you had stepped into building the warm scent of hot cocoa and pastries filled up your nostrils.

The cafe was already heavily decorated for christmas: printouts of stars and snowflakes cello taped to the windows, lights strewn across the walls of the cafe and a slouching Christmas tree in the right back corner of the cafe, the golden glittering star limping slightly to one sight.

You join the small queue waiting patiently for your turn. You’re met with a smile by the barista, the same one who meets your face every morning.

“¡Buenos días!, Your regular?”

“Good morning, and yes please.” you reply as you tap your card for payment.

“Take a seat, bonita , I’ll come right over.”

The barista’s words add a smile to your face, slightly easing the anxious ache that you had from this morning. You take your favorite seat, the stool in the corner by the window so you can eagerly watch people as you’re taking your morning coffee.

As always it’s not long before the barista comes over with your order, eager to rush over to you.

“Thanks Gabi .” you say as he places down the hot cup of coffee. Two sugars and a drop of milk. Always to your perfection.

“No problem.” He replies, leaning his arm on the empty stool next to yours. Gabriel watches you take the first sip, as he always does when giving you your coffee. You take a small sip, careful not to burn your tongue. The hot liquid quickly travels down your throat, awakening your body as you do so with its bitter yet slightly sweet taste.

“Perfect as always, Gabi, you’re a natural.”

He waves his hand, in mock embarrassment. “Oh stop it, you’re making me blush.” You repeat the compliment to him everyday without fail and he knows that you would never say anything less, not even on his worst days.

“Now for the tip.” He speaks, a smirk drawing on his lips. “Fifty or hundred today?”

“Don’t be an ass, Gabi.” you mutter, reaching for your purse. You hand him a twenty dollar bill.

“Ooooo, looks like she’s being nice today.”

“When am I not ever being nice?”

“Okay, you remember that one time when that lady pushed–?”

“Zip it.” you quip, not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence.

“Okay…..” he rolls his eyes, knowing fully well how he could have proved you wrong. “So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or will I have to blackmail you with my mama’s tres leches for you to tell me?”

“The latter.” you pipe up quickly, taking another sip of the coffee. You weren’t even surprised that he tell that something was wrong, he had known you long enough to know your habits.

“You mujer interesada, of course you would. Why did I even bother asking?” [self-interested/greedy woman]

You let out an exhale before confessing your thoughts, the anxiety building up in your stomach becoming too discomforting that you just had to tell him. “My roommate moved out this morning. Again.”

“Another one? But you guys got on so well!” Gabriel exclaimed, his mouth slightly open in shock.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s moving in with her boyfriend. They want to spend their first Christmas together after being in a long distance relationship for so long and I’m happy for them I guess but…” You trail off, looking down into your coffee cup.

“You feel lonely as fuck now?”

You nod your head wordlessly. As always Gabriel was always quick in being able to read your mind. “You don’t need a spare room do you?” you ask suddenly, your eyes eagerly brighten at the thought.

“No, I'm sorry. I’m still living with my mom at the moment.” Gabriel flicks his head over to the counter where his mother was, working in the kitchen making more traditional Mexican cuisine. “I’m saving up to get a place of my own one day.”

You nod along again, humming in response to Gabriel’s plan before glancing out of the window.

A comfortable silence came between the two of you as you both observed the streets of New York. O’hara’s was set in a quiet corner of downtown with few passersby and traffic. One of the many reasons why you loved to come here was for the peace and quiet of the cafe– not many would be able to find that in New York. But also, you liked to take advantage of the free wifi.

“Y’know what?” Gabriel speaks after a few minutes of silence.

“What?” You hum.

“I think I know someone who might need a place.”

“Really?” Your intonation rises higher, surprise evident in your voice. You shake your head, stopping your body from celebrating just yet. It looks like you can’t abandon that puppy yet without some sort of confirmation. “Wait, Gabi, you can’t be shitting me okay? Be serious.”

“Hey, I’m always serious!” He retorts and you deadpan him as your response. “Trust me.” He says. “ I’ll get you someone by the end of the week, if I can convince—”

“Oh my god, you're the best barista ever!” You say aloud, indulging him with a hug before he could finish his sentence.

“And don’t you tell me that everyday.”

The next morning, you feel a little lighter as you walk the streets of New York. For the rest of yesterday, you were unconsciously avoiding your return back to your empty apartment, upset by the knowledge that there was no one at home waiting for you. Yet, waking up this morning and instantly remembering Gabriel’s words had indefinitely removed the sea of anxiety from your body.

You’re a little more excited than usual to head to O’hara’s, hoping to hear back from Gabi about your potential roommate. You step through the doors of the cafe, the usual smell of coffee, pastries and desserts hitting you like always. The queue is a little longer than usual today, but you estimate that down to more people wanting hot drinks to subside with the colder weather in New York lately.

It takes a while to get to your turn but you’re patient. A cheesy smile is on your lips as you step to meet your usual—

“Uh– what would you like?”

Your face freezes at the sound of a gruff voice addressing you instead of your usual cheery ‘¡buenos dias!’ missing from your usual routine. You hesitate a little in making your order, finding it unusual that Gabriel’s not in for work today. You knew that they were running low on staff recently but…Gabriel rarely takes a day off.

Unless he’s hungover.

Instead, his replacement stands as a tall, tanned and muscular man. Older , you assume or perhaps that’s just the notion that you get from the dark under eye-bags that he has. You practically have to crane your neck just to make eye contact.

He looks familiar but you just can’t recognise where you know him from. The features of his face, dark hair, eyes, and nose screams at you to be recognised. But you just can’t put your finger on it for some reason.

“Do I know you?” you speak up, your curiosity violently plaguing your mind.

“Huh?” The man looks down at you, currently struggling to tap in your order on the till.

“Nothing. Nevermind.”

“Oh, okay.” he says, looking down and attempting to tap in your order again.

You stand around, patiently waiting for your order and as you glance around the cafe you find that your favorite spot is taken. Immediately, your shoulders drop. You take it as a sign that today will be a bad day. Not correlated at all, but it does dampen your mood.

It takes more than ten minutes before you get your order, the muscular figure works slowly as if he’s just figuring out how to work all the machines. A newbie you guess.

Finally , your order is ready and instead you settle with taking a seat in a comfy lounge chair. It’s disheartening not having your regular conversation with Gabi today but you’ll cope instead making a mental list of all the errands and work that you need to run through today.

Pulling out your phone, you go to his contact to text Gabriel.

You (8:23am)

Let me guess…you’re hungover? Anyways, I hope you feel better soon <333 Lmk if you need anything…and if you get any updates on the roommate situation. :)

You hit send and slide the phone back into your pocket. You’re not expecting a response anytime soon from him. Picking up your cup, you take a quick sip of your coffee before immediately pulling a disgusted face. Too much sugar.

You’re in the right mind to go back up to the counter and order a new one but by the look on the new barista’s face, which you could tell was filled with stress and internal panic, you think it’s best not to run him ragged even more.

For his sake you decide to keep quiet. For now.

reblogs are much appreciated!

lmk if you would like to be tagged

#angel writes #a temporary situation.#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #astv miguel #atsv headcanons #astv x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel

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waynewifey · 10 months

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aftermath — b.w

part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’

part two - ‘aftermath’

part three. - ‘aporia’

summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: drama & angst romance

warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement

word count: 2.9k

A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!

gotham, USA.

the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.

your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.

but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.

"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.

bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.

"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.

"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."

you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.

"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.

"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.

"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"

you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.

"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.

"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?

"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.

— DENIAL

you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.

bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.

it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.

you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.

"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.

he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.

"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.

"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.

"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.

"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.

you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.

bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.

— ANGER

the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.

bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.

alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.

shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.

bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.

it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.

"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."

it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.

you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.

alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.

"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"

part three - aporia

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