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#same thing happened to dick when he lost his parents
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Okay so these three (1 2 3)posts gave me a fix idea that hopefully I’ll write (my wip list is long okay).
Okay so what if when Thomas and Martha Wayne were killed the trauma it caused Bruce created a darkness in his soul and it broke off almost and it turned into his shadow, maybe it stayed dormant for a while maybe it didn’t. But it’s a dark part of him (although it does have it’s own light/kindness, dark doesn’t mean evil). It can take it’s own form rather than being just his shadow, and it can let him turn into a part of it which is what happens when he’s Batman, that’s what batblob really is. People from other cities like Metropolis and Central etc don’t understand why Gothamites call Batman a creature or a cryptid. I mean he’s just a vigilante. But gothamite know that there’s something not entirely human about him.
I drew on so many posts I’ve read with this
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rklve · 8 months
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RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART TWO
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summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jeon jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around you forever.
➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut.
➣ pairing: chef!jk x veterinarian!reader
➣ 8.9k words
warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a mess. mutual pining. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. drinking. jk has a big dick. teasing. cursing. orgasm denial. fingering. breast play (jungkook is weak for tits). clit play. squirting. multiple orgams. hand kink. choking kink. oc loves tattoos, oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex (don't!!!). spitting. lots of prasing. confused feelings.
I can feel your touch, I remember your kiss, 그 말은 아팠지 and I miss you
part one | part two | drabble one
You run to the car once he gets inside and unlocks the door. Immediately you turn on the heater and the radio at the same time. It all feels natural, like riding a bike. The start might feel rusty, but once you get your feet on the pedal, your brain will take you to memory lane. It’s like you’ve always been there. Like you’ve never left.
Jungkook just stares, and then you realize what you’ve just done. “I-I’m sorry. Just thought you’d be freezing. And… old habits.” you stumble over the words and looks straight ahead with your eyes growing bigger from embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”
“‘S’fine.” Jungkook cuts you off before you start babbling again. Won’t admit he wanted you to do that. This is one of the things he misses the most. Ordinary stuff. You, taking care of him. You, choosing one of your favorite Justin Bieber's songs on his playlist so you two can sing it all loud on the way home. Just you. Being there.
“I’m at my parents tonight, by the way.” His stomach drops. he expected it, but it still hurts. It’s a bad sign. You’re leaving again soon. Just like you did on Christmas last year. Spent 3 days with your family and went back to Australia like nothing happened. At least that’s what he heard from Taehyung, ‘cause he wasn’t here to witness it. He had travelled with his parents back then. But now he‘s here, and he can hear his heart start cracking again just by the thought of it. He’s dumb. So fucking dumb.
“That’s the reason I didn’t want to bother you.” you sigh “I wanted to surprise them but they went to my aunt’s today. Some family celebration I’m not aware of.” you continue as you look past the car window “I found out when I got there and everything was locked up. So I decided to go to Lola’s but found out she was out with Jin for the weekend too. So I just left my baggage at her door and came to the cafe to spare some time ‘till my parents get b— I’m sorry, I’m just babbling shit as usual”
“Just go on, I’m listening” he says. Usually he’s the one talking thru his elbows but knows you do that when you’re nervous too. 
“Right. So, you can drop me off at my parents and I’ll get my stuff tomorrow at Lola’s, if that’s okay.” you look back at him now “I’ll wait till they come back home.”
“Have you lost your mind back in Melbourne?” he says looking at the road with a big frown displayed “Not gonna leave you alone by your parents door. In this fucking weather. I’d never do that.” he sighs “You know me better than that, Bee.”
You freeze as you hear him calling you that. Just like he did minutes ago when you called him by his nickname. It’s bellow the belt and he knows it. Probably the reason he said it at the first place. Or not. Maybe it’s just force of habit and he doesn’t even care about that nickname anymore.
“We’ll get your baggage and head to mine. You can stay and call your parents. Wait ‘till the rain calms down and I can take you there.” he says and waits to hear a no from you. But you stay quiet. “Or you can call an uber. Whatever you want. Okay?”
“Okay.” you say, still a little bit unsure. Doesn’t want to bother him. Mess with his plans for a friday night. Your parents house is kinda far from here. You say nothing anyway, ‘cause you also think it’s the safer way out of this situation right now.
He helps you pick up your stuff at Lola’s and head to the other apartment complex two streets away. The ride back to his house is quick and calm. It’s a one-song-away route. A route that is very known by you. You’ve been there so many times, it’s tattoed in your brain. Think you could find your way back there even if you’re blindfolded. 
Finally the two of you reach to his door, and you can already hear some sniffing on the other side. A few more seconds and an aggressive scratching follows. Jungkook opens the door and gets in with your bags. 
“Hey, buddy. Dad’s home.” You see the now giant dog lick his owners hand, then he looks at you and it’s pure euphoria. He runs fast and puts his big paws in front of you. The next thing you know you’re with your ass on the floor, feeling how much he missed you as he continually licks all over your face swaying his tail from side to side.
“I know baby, I know.” you giggle “I missed you too!” 
“Bam! Behave” Jungkook says startled by the way the puppy reacted to you. Quickly leave your bags on the corner of the living room and comes to your rescue. “You can’t just hoop on people like that, man. You’re too big!”
“It’s okay, he’s just a giant baby.” you say as you get up again and start caressing his plain caramel fur. 
“You okay?” he asks looking you up and down to see if you hurt yourself.
“Jungkook, I’m fine. You know I deal with animals all the time.”
He softly nods. Yeah, of course he knows. It’s the whole reason you left him anyways. For a fucking job offer. At some big ass veterinary hospital five thousand miles away. Out of the blue. Like he meant nothing to you. And just like that, everything goes back to him and he gulps away his anger. Doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable right now. You just got here. Can’t be okay with the idea of you leaving already.
So he just calls Bam and leads him to his separated room, where his food and little house are, alongside all of his toys. “Stay here a little bit, buddy. I’ll bring you out later okay?” 
It’s like Bam understand every word he says, as he goes inside his little house and lays down “Good boy.”
Jungkook decides to put some dry clothes before he goes back to you. Takes a little while to choose one, but denies it’s because he wants to make a good impression. Ends up with a plain black t-shirt anyways.
He’s back to the living room and sees you looking around the house with curiosity. It is quite different, you think. Not in a bad way. It’s more sophisticated. The new furniture gives that vibe. All grey-ish. You like it. Matches him and his Chef persona. His kitchen is gorgeous as well. So many more pans that before. One of each size. You still don’t know the bare minimum about it. They all do the cooking and that’s all.
“You hungry?” he asks, realizing you stopped your inspection at the kitchen but never left.
“Kinda.” you say, and right away your stomach growls loud and calls you by your lie. “Okay, very hungry.”
You both laugh and Jungkook starts to pick up his utensils. One of his biggest pans. A big ass spoon. A cutting board. You lost count of how many things he puts on the table.
“Need a hand?” you say, just to be sure. You both know you’re terrible at the kitchen. But you’re at least able to cut some vegetables.
“‘S’fine. You’re probably tired from the flight. Go take a rest.” he says already on multiple duties over the kitchen. You have no idea what he’s cooking, but trust him anyway. He knows what you enjoy like the back of his hand. Knows what you love to eat, and knows you love his food more than anything else in the world. 
So you just hum, silently agreeing with him.
You sit up at the couch, and realize it’s a new one too. It’s a big one, and still has that smell like a recently unfolded present. You turn on Netflix. Wonder if you’re too comfortable at this house when you shouldn’t. Are you two going to be friends now? Did he forgive you? Or is he just being kind? 
Trying to clean your head for a little bit you pick up your favorite tv show: School of Chocolate. It’s kinda addicting. You know Jungkook claims to hate it but secretly loves it. He always used to argue when you put it in and ended up seated alongside you mesmerized with those big ass sculptures. 
“Fuckin’ waste of chocolate.” he suddenly says back in the kitchen. He is able to see the tv from there as well, but he’s concentrated on cutting some bacon anyways. “And some of them can’t even do the easiest tasks. Ends up looking like dog’s poop”
“Are you spoiling me? I didn’t watch this episode yet!” you scream looking back at him “Can’t believe you watched it before me” you giggle “I’m probably the biggest fan of the show.”
“It came out yesterday” he quickly replies “you’re such a fake fan.”
You just puff, feeling insulted by his words.
“Just admit you only watch it ‘cause you think the Chef’s hot”
“Amaury is not my type” you pan back instantly but quickly regret it. What the fuck are you thinking, flirting with him? God, you’re so stupid. He must hate you right now. Definitely will kick you out hungry and cold on the street at any minute now. But Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear it. If he did, he just plays dumb. Continues to prepare whatever he is cooking and leave you to watch it.
On the kitchen, Jungkook’s heart is beating thru his ears. Can’t believe he heard you. Heard you flirting. If it was a year ago, he would drop the dinner and go towards you. Kiss your smart mouth and laugh with you. Say you better not adore any Chef more than you adore him. Pull you back to the sofa. Kiss your pretty waist and take dessert before dinner is even served. 
But he can’t do that. ‘Cause you’re not his anymore. You’re not part of this reality anymore. His reality. You live in a whole new country now and he wouldn’t survive letting you in again knowing you’d leave him anytime soon. So he just shuts it down. Pretends he didn’t hear anything, ‘cause it’s better this way.
A couple of minutes later dinner is ready. He made your favorite dish. Coincidentally he had some vegetable broth ready-made in the refrigerator from Wednesday and the idea came up in his mind. He’s finishing the details and hears you entering the kitchen.
“Where do you put the plates now?” you softly say looking up at him.
“Above you, on your left.” he points out and you go for it right away. Picks up the cutlery and puts everything on the dinner table. His chest pangs, ‘cause it’s just like old times. You used to do this a lot together. Almost every weekend. Or whenever you crashed up at his. He loves to spoil you with his food. Kinda his love language, he figures now. 
He grabs the wine from the refrigerator. One of your favorites. He remembers this too. You’re not a big fan of wine but this one is so sweet you can’t refuse. You’re a sweet tooth after all.
“Mmm. Red wine. The sweet one. What are we celebrating?” you play around as you sit. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. Won’t admit he bought it thinking about you. Thought he would drink a whole bottle and you’d disappear from his mind like magic.
You didn’t.
“This one was sitting for a while here, gotta get rid of it. Swear nobody likes this shit but you, Bee.”
You try to ignore the nickname again. Tell yourself he only said it as a joke. The wine is sweet. You like sugar. You’re like an annoying bee. Everyone gets it. You’re just like any other bee. Not his Bee.
“Right. I’ll take this one with me then” you giggle softly.
Jungkook now is back with the huge pan and puts it in the middle of the table. By the smell of it, you’re guessing what it is. Your stomach too, as it growls again even louder than before.
“Are you starving yourself?” Jungkook jokes when he hears your hungry system.
“Haven’t eaten properly since I left home.” you giggle a little embarrassed but you can’t bring yourself to care much. Every once in a while you just forget to eat. You know it’s a bad habit and you’re trying to change that. Jungkook used to be your reminder. You used to eat so well when the two of you were together. Your rough routine made you have cookies for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. Quick things to match up with your quick schedule. But Jungkook took care of you. Sent messages thru the day reminding you to buy something. Drink water. Often sent food to your job. Sometimes he would cook himself and leave on the refrigerator so you could take it with you on the next day. You miss being taken care of. You miss being with him.
“You mean you haven’t eaten real food for more than 15 hours?” he says, now upset. “For God’s sake, Bee. You can’t do that.” 
You could get sick. Could pass out in the middle of the street. Could hurt yourself. He can’t bare the thought of you getting hurt, and it really upsets him.
You sense the change in his aura so you quickly change de subject. “Fuck off! you made risotto?”
Jungkook just hums, pouty. Still angry at your self-destruction actions. Angry he can’t do anything about it. Puts a good portion for you and for him in the plates. Beautifully arranged just like he does at the restaurant. Knows you like to take pictures so he follows your concept blindly. Guess you’d like to save in the memory lane.
And he guessed it right. You grab your phone instantly and take a couple of pics, but you won’t post it. Will keep it just for you.
“Where’s your glass?” you say after observing he only brought one glass to the table.
“I said I would take you to your parents, dummie.” he plays around, but he’s serious. He won’t drink and drive. His mom would cut his balls out. Your father too.
“Shut up, I can take an uber later. Get yourself one.”
“No, I really don’t mind.” he says stubbornly.
“If you don’t drink, I won’t drink either.” you pouty say and he wonders. Flips his piercing with his tongue for a second. Doesn’t want you to go home with an uber late at night. He will figure something about later. Maybe he can drink half of a glass and then sober up so he can drive you. Just know he can’t resist that face of yours right now, so he gives in a heartbeat.
“You’re the devil.” he chuckles and grabs a glass for himself. Pours a little bit for the two of you. “You’re lucky I like this wine with risotto.”
Then you two start eating. You make your silly little dance with your shoulders. Always do that when you enjoy the food. Jungkook thinks it’s the cutest thing in the word. Best reward he could ever get. Would cook every day and every night to see you this happy.
“This is so good.” you hum away “you’re the best of the bests. The most talented chef in the world. You’re gonna be a superstar someday.”
“Ani.. Stop it!” Jungkook shyly says, his two hands on his face hiding the bunny smile you know he’s carrying. 
“I mean it. You will be.” you take a sip of the wine and continues. You know he likes to downplay himself. “I’m talking 3 Michelin stars restaurant.”
“One sip and you’re already talking nonsense.” he giggles. Knows it’s your way of thanking him for the meal but he just can’t take complements like a normal person. Is too shy, even with you. 
“Shut up. I’m a big girl now. I could drink this bottle up and still rap to an Eminem song.” You laugh away and Jungkook just follows. Both of you know it’s bullshit. You’re a terrible drinker. Two glasses in and you would be giggling every 3 seconds. 
The two of you just stay like this. Talking nonsense. Bickering. Laughing away. Jungkook doesn’t know what time is it, but the rain is still pouring outside. A little bit less angry now, but still. The bottle is almost empty. He doesn’t know when you both stoped counting how many glasses you’ve drank. Doesn’t care anyway. Just wants to spend more time with you like this. Like there’s no real life outside that door. Like you’ve never left. Like you never will.
Eventually Jungkook takes the now empty pan and the two glasses to the sink. Hears you picking up the plates and seconds later you’re by the sink as well. He goes out to pick up the empty bottle of wine to throw it in the trash. When he comes back to the kitchen, you’re already washing the dishes; Drunk and hapilly humming the song you eventually put in between the dinner. Swaying away your perfect molded hips. Jungkook’s mind is fuzzy. Can’t think straight. But he knows damn well he can’t blame it on the wine. He would be like this even if he had no alcohol. You’re the one intoxicating him.
“What are you doing?” he murmurs softly behind you, just above your ear. You can feel his hot breathing and it makes your skin instantly hot too. The damn butterflies you feel every time he’s near are awake again. They’re anxious. Excited. 
You turn half of your face to him and say “I’m helping you, silly. I know you hate this part.” 
Jungkook gets a little bit closer. Doesn’t touch you, but he can smell your perfume more clearly now. Takes another step and he is able to smell your shampoo too. Strawberries. He loves it so much. Always have.
He can’t hold you, otherwise he won’t be able to let go. So he puts his hands around you, grabbing the corner of the sink. “You don’t have to, baby” he husks “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
You’ve got goosebumps, but you pretend. Pretend hearing him call you that didn’t almost give you a heart attack. Pretend you did not listen to his complains too, and keep washing everything. You’re almost finished. Then you can sit down. Maybe talk. Tell him everything you couldn’t a year ago. Tell him everything you need to tell him now.
But then, you feel his nose on your hair. Caressing throught it. It’s an old habit of his. You know he likes your shampoo, and you’ve never changed it. 
“You smell so good, Bee.” your mind is going wild. Don’t know what you should do. You can’t fake it anymore. Blame it on the wine, but the last thing you want to do is to have a conversation right now.
You finish the dishes. Clean your hands and tries to think straight. Gives up.
“Jungkook…” you softly say.
And just like that, he comes a little bit closer. His buffed chest on your back now. “Mmm?”
He can’t hold it back. He misses you like a fucking junkie and you are the drug on display. Right at his face. 
Meanwhile, you lean into his body. Your eyes are closed like you’re trying to get out of your foggy mind. Trying to do the right thing. He thinks this is the right thing. Does not care about breaking his heart tomorrow. He can deal with it later. His heart needs you now. He can just pretend for a little and everything will be fine.
So he closes the little gap that still exited between the two of you. Grabs you by the waist and looks down at your face. Waits for you response. You open your eyes instantly, and all he sees is red. Lust. Passion. Need. He knows those eyes. And he knows that’s what you’re feeling, ‘cause he feels it too.
But he’s still careful. His hands roam all over your body when he kisses your cheek softly. Feels his lips tingling with the sensation. Takes it to your neck. Knows exactly where your sweet spot is, and that’s what he aims. Takes a little while there now. Sucks a little bit. Your skin feeling hot under his lips. He drags his tongue slowly over the same spot. Hears you hissing and feels proud. Feels his cock throbbing too, happy with the sounds you make.
Jungkook softy turns your head and your lips are almost touching. You’re so close you can feel his breath like it’s your own. Your lips are begging you to go forward, but you’re scared to screw things up. So you bite your lip back.
“Fuck it.” he says and takes the first step. Holds your face with his palm and crash your lips together. It’s like you’re both starving for years as you sigh relived when your tongues meet. The kiss is passionate. Your lips molding each other, dancing together like they’ve never stopped. Like they’ve always done. Like you’re made for each other. You can’t get enough of him. He can’t get enough of you. So many feelings flowing thru a simple kiss. So you just go on and on and on. Deepens it, if it’s possible. Arms wrap around his neck, your fingers lost on his soft locks. Want him to know how much you care about him. How sorry you are. How much you miss him.
And he gives back. Kisses you like it’s his final act on earth. Kisses you like a starved man. Kisses you like you’re everything to him until he feels his lungs failing him, so he backs up a little to catch a breath.
“I think—“ you start saying, but suddenly you stop. His tattooed hand grabs your throat. Doesn’t strangle you, just puts it there. Caresses it. Let you know that he has made up his mind. That he knows all your weaknesses — that being one of them. He knows how to make you feel good and he’s silently now begging you to give in too.
“Don’t.” he husks and now squeezes your neck. Just enough to make that little spot in your brain tell you’re pleasured by the action. You gasp and let out a broken moan as he continues, now adding little love bites on your shoulder. His bulge growing behind you. So you finally do what you’ve been craving for the whole night.
Jungkook feels you start to rub your ass on his crotch slowly, but firmly. “Shit, baby.” He moans. Feels so fucking horny. Can’t remember the last time he was this hard. Thinks he will nut his pants like a fucking virgin if you keep this up. But he doesn’t care. Wants more. Wants you. So he starts to roll his hips too, meeting you halfway.
“Jungkook” you say with that pretty tone of yours. He knows you. Knows what you want, but he needs to hear it.
“What is it, baby?” he whispers against your ear now. The hand that was in your throat now travels south. It teases you. Goes around your breast. Acts like he will, but does not touch it. He wants you needing. Wants you begging.
“Please.” you say unquiet.
“Use your big girl words, Bee.” he plays around. Sucks your ear lobe. “Say it.”
“Want you to touch me.” you finally say.
“Good girl.” he husks, then turns you over. Grabs you by your waist and sits you on the counter. Puts himself between your thighs. Pulls you closer. Looks at you with his pretty big eyes. Wanting. Expecting.
“Kiss me.” you say and he wastes no time to do so. Kisses you again. Even more fervently than before. Wants you to remember. Bites your lower lip and sucks your tongue. Knows it drives you crazy. You moan into the kiss and he mirrors you. Feels pleasure seeing you this turn on. Wants to keep doing it till he’s fucking six feet under. Feels so blessed seeing you like this after all this time.
You grab his thick hair, pining it like you know he enjoys and he hisses into your mouth. His fingers dig deeper on your skin and you know it’s gonna leave marks.
“You drive me fucking insane.” he says as you pull away, looking at you with half his eyes open, lust exhales from all his pores. You give him a little smirk in return. Loves seeing him like this. All needy. All yours.
He takes back the control. Now he’s the one pulling your hair and you let out a loud moan from the pleasure. You love this. Your core is aching, pussy clenching around nothing trying to get some relief, so you know your body loves it too;
His mouth quickly follows your now exposed throat and kisses it. Sucks. Bites. Leaves tiny nips all over. Does whatever he wants with it, ‘cause he knows it gets you soaked up. Just thinking about it makes him needier so he starts to unbutton your pants, looking back at you to make sure you’re okay with this and you give him silent nods with that pretty little smile on you face.
He wants this moment to last forever, so he takes his time. Looks down on you ‘cause it feels like forever since he last saw you like this. You’re wearing a pretty lacy pink underwear. It’s like you want him dead. “Fuck you.” he says, still looking at your covered pussy with the cute underwear. You giggle a little bit. Knows he loves pink on you, says it enhances your skin color.
The hand that was on your hair starts to explore, travels across your throat and gives one final squeeze as he kisses your lips, bites it down, lick the swollen lip as the hand continues to go down. Takes a little step back and pulls up your shirt. Quickly gets back where he belongs and his lips are on you chest. Little pecks all over it. Teasing. Savoring. Jungkook claims himself a butt guy, but he swears he could happily die between those tits.
Both of his hands are on your covered breasts now. He cups them and starts to salivate with the view. Needs to suck it or he will die. So he takes off your matching bra and instantly puts his lips around your nipple. Sucks it like an obsessed man. Growls as he feels it harden against his tongue so he bites it. Wants to hear you scream from pleasure and so you do.
“Jungkook! Fuck!” you say as you arch your back, giving him more access to your tits. One of your hands grab the corner of the sink for support, the other is pinning his dark locks like your life depends on it. With his right hand Jungkook rubs the neglected breast. Slaps it and pinches the hard nipple across his thumbs. You let another loud moan and you can feel your pink underwear sticking. “Koo..”
And then he looses it. Can’t hear you all needy, calling him that. Does something to his mind and his dick. Knows it is rock hard under his pants right now. He has to do something about it, but the only thing he can think of is you. Giving you pleasure. Make sure you remember how good he is to you. Make you never want to leave again.
So with that in mind he kisses his way down. Kisses your pretty belly. Get on his knees and open your legs. Kisses your inner thighs. Looks over and you’re biting down your lips, looking like a fucking sex goddess. He’s crazy about you. Thinks he might as well fucking die if he can’t get this view for the rest of his life.
He goes a little further, aiming to the sweet spot between your legs. Put his nose on it so he can smell you. “Fuck. Missed this pussy so much.”
You whine at his words. You missed having him like this too. Heart thrums against your ribs when you sense his face closer into the warm of your cunt. He puts the underwear aside and licks your dripping folds just once. Slowly. Wants to savor you like fine wine. Groans when it hits his taste buds. “Swear this is the sweetest thing i’ve ever put my mouth on.”
You giggle, ‘cause you know he’s exaggerating. Such a Jungkook thing to do. “That’s big coming from you, Chef.” he looks back at you and smirks. “You don’t believe me” he leaves one bite on your thigh as a retaliation for not believing his words. Then gets up again. Grabs the back of your head and kisses you. It’s all messy. Wants to show you how sweet you are on his tongue. How addicting it is.
Suddenly he breaks the kiss and looks at you. Puts his fingers on your lips. “Open.”
You love his dom persona, so you obey immediately. Take his fingers like you know will get him imagining things. Licks it, slowly. Shows him what you could be doing on another part of his body. He takes this as a challenge. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?”
He won’t let you get away, tho. Finally strips you out of the underwear and takes his wet fingers down your cunt. Presses your swollen clit, rubbing his thumb over it painfully slow and suddenly you don’t feel like playing anymore. “Jungkook, don’t tease me.”
And for once he does as you ask without second thoughts. Puts his fingers inside your tight pussy and starts pumping inside you. You meow like the pretty kitty you are. “S-shit.. so good…”
He takes his pace, goes faster and his dick twists on his sweatpants with the sloppy sounds the movements take out of your pussy. His fingers are soaked up as he feels you start to milk them, chasing your high.
“P-please don’t stop. Oh my g-good!”
And then he does. Kinda feels wicked when you open your now teary eyes as he pulls out but he swears he will make it up to you. “I hate you.”
He just giggles and gets on his knees again.
“Want my dessert now.” he huskily whispers.
Before you notice, your thighs are on his shoulders and his face is on your pussy again. He’s eating you out like a literal dessert. Licks your folds with his hungry tongue and gets you moaning like crazy. “Could eat this pussy every fucking day.” he says, then puts his tongue flat on you clit. You know the drill. Have done this so many times before and just the thought of if gets you dripping even more. “Ride my face, baby.”
And so you do. Grab his hair with both of your hands and hold him on the perfect spot. He starts to move the tip of his tongue on your nub and you match his movements with your hips. Both of you get more and more turned on as you grind yourself further into his face.
“So good, baby. Shit…” you whimper and he moans into your clit when he hears your words. Puts his lips around it. Bites it. Suckes like his life depends on it. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, nudging at his nose and it’s the final act for you to come undone. “Jungkook, fuuuck!” you scream and pulls his hair tight when the pleasure wave washes you. You keep riding his face slowly and he gives your pussy kitty licks prolonging your high. You sigh relieved. He keeps drinking your sweet slickness till the last drop. Moans tasting your juice like it's the very first time. Takes his face back and he’s all covered in you, from his nose to his chin. It’s the hottest thing in the world.
He cleans himself with the back of his hand and suddenly picks you up bridal style, heading to his bedroom. You're taken by surprise, but you love when he manhandles you.
"What are you doing?" you ask still a little big foggy with the afterglow.
"Taking you to inaugurate my new bed" he giggles a little bit.
"Jungkook! That's disgusting!"
"I want your smell on it, what’s wrong?" he says naturally, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You don't want to get your hopes up 'cause you still haven't talked, but he's not making it easy for you.
You look up at him and just can't hold your stupid smile back. He's so gorgeous. The most beautiful man you've ever seen. His pretty little dimples are peeking 'cause he has a little smile on his face too. You realize you love every little detail there is about Jungkook. His beautiful moles; the one on his chin, on his neck, on his cheek. The tiny scar he got from a silly fight with his brother. His bunny teeth. His big, beautiful starry brown eyes. Yeah, you're never getting over this goof. It's humanly impossible.
So you just accept your fate. Whatever this night might bring, you’ll go for it. Heartbreak or healing. There’s no going back now.
Jungkook puts you down on his bed and just stares at you by the end of it. Still fully clothed, also wears that silly smile on his face. Gosh, he’s so fucking perfect.
You just grab him by his t-shirt and pull him closer. He almost falls over you but uses his arms to hold his weight. Towers over you but keeps staring. The previous smile washed away from his face now, and you’re scared he’s already regretting everything.
It’s intense, the way he looks at you. Got you curling your toes in excitement. In fear. In anticipation.
So you just avert your eyes to his pretty pillowy pink lips. Specifically to the mole under it, and you feel like kissing it like you used to.
In the meantime he starts undressing. Takes off his t-shirt and you gasp as you realize he has some new tattoos. One on his chest and more on his shoulder. All of the old ones are colored too. More alive. It’s so pretty.
“You colored them.” you say softly, letting your fingers go across all of them.
“Needed to put some color in my life somehow.” he responds quietly. Like he wanted to say more, but choose to hold it down.
You look back at him and the atmosphere is fuzzy again. There’s no going back from this, really. Not when he’s this close to you. Not when you feel your heart thrumming so fast it might explode. Not when you’re back here again, in his arms.
So wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. You need to be sure. “Do you want me?”
You’re so close you can feel his broke sigh when he says, “More than anything.” And then kisses you.
Not like a hungry man now.
Worst, like a man in love.
Kisses you awfully slow, twisting his tongue perfectly with yours. Sucks the life out of you. Got you moaning when he pulls out and licks your under lip as well. He grabs the back of your head and guides you into delicious positions for the kiss. It’s dreamy. It’s fulfilling. It’s everything you missed.
Jungkook can’t take it anymore, so he pulls himself down on you. Instantly feels your excitement wetting his sweatpants and his dick throbs for more of it.
He starts to grind against your fully naked pussy and you meow into the kiss, still feeling sensitive. Feels so good tho, so you start grinding back on him. What’s left of your cum mixing with arousal, making it even more satisfying for the both of you.
“So greedy…” he husks “Can never get enough, can you?”
You just nod, biting your lips. Feeling even more turned on by his low voice talking shit right now. You need him as soon as possible. So you keep going. Your both taking a pace now. “For god’s sake, take these off”
Jungkook feels his cock aching, burning, wanting. His balls might be petrified right now. Need you or he might die. So he just obeys. Backs off and throws it all away. Goes back to you instantly.
Starts to kiss you again, ‘cause he can never get enough of that sweet taste of yours. It’s like heaven on earth. His body grows hot and electrified as he feels your pussy clenching when he puts his hard dick between your folds. Keeps teasing, just cause he can. Wants to make you suffer a little bit more.
You break the kiss and whine into his ear. “Don’t be mean.”
He giggles and bites down on your left shoulder.
“I won’t, baby.”
His body says otherwise tho, as he slowly eases into you and and stops with just the tip inside. The feeling of his dick intruding your small hole is enough to make goosebumps rise all over his body and his breath to falter “Shit.”
“Koo..”
“Patience is a virtue, y’know.” he says, trying to command his heart to function like a normal person’s organ again.
“I don’t care about virtues right now, nerd” you joke and hear him tsc.
“You’ll never learn to not be sassy when you’re under me, will you?”
He doesn’t wait for your answer, though. Fills you up abruptly and you gasp with surprise. It’s so fucking delicious that got both of you moaning in sync.
“Fuck, you’re just as tight as I remember” he says “You okay?”
“Yes,” you say desperately with a broken voice. You need him to move.
And so he does. Suddenly picks up his pace and starts to bottom you out. Fill you up. Repeat. His big dick stretching you out deliciously even better than you remember it did. Your mind did no justice to his talent at all. It’s like he was made for you. Understands your body and soul perfectly. Fits you perfectly. Makes you want more and more and more.
He grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder, getting both of you in a nasty position that got him growling and you drooling.
Oh, he knows perfectly where your sweet spot is.
“Fuck, that’s it, Jungkook.” He smirks when he sees you loosing your mind. Knows it won’t take a while for you to come undone since he’s hitting your most sensitive point right now. With his other hand he puts a hand on your throat and squeezes it. Feels you milking his dick and moaning low.
“My baby likes to be strangled, huh?” he murmurs “Such a dirty girl”
You moan even louder as you feel him going faster. His endurance is crazy and you know it. Got you crawling up the walls every time.
“Tell me,” he says in between the thrusts “Tell me how good it is, Bee.”
“So fucking good, baby” you pan back, completely lost in pleasure right now. Your eyes are closed, all you see is the red starts he makes you see with every sweet thrust in your throbbing cunt.
He let down your leg and comes closer to you. Gives your neck little pecks and goes back to face you.
“Look at me.”
And so you open your eyes. He’s looking at you that same way. The loving way.
You can’t take this. Your heart can’t take this. Him, looking at you like that. Him, being the most precious human being there is. Him, being the greatest decision you’ve ever done. ‘Cause that just reminds you how you’ve ruined everything.
It’s like he feels your swipe of feelings so he slows the movements and gives you one sweet kiss before pulling out. Grabs you by the hips, putting you on top of him. You’re on charge again. It’s your decision, he’s silently saying.
With both of your thighs strangling his body and your hands around his neck you stop in front of him. Don’t do anything. Just admire him. Want to keep this moment bottled in your brain forever. His sweet, loving eyes. His pretty dimples. His chin’s mole—your favorite mole. Every detail there is about him.
Your pull him closer and slowly go for your aim. Put your lips on the pretty mole like you wanted to since you first saw him tonight. Keeps it there and sense his broke sigh. You sigh back. Your chest pangs. Your throat hurts and it’s not in a good way. Your start to feel your eyes watering and pulls back.
“Baby…” he says softly, looking at you with slightly frowned eyebrows, stroking your hips with his fingers.
You know he wants to say something. Something important. Probably something that you two should’ve said before any other thing that happened tonight. But you don’t want to ruin this moment. Not now. Not ever.
So you just shut him up with your lips. Savor him one last time before everything breaks down. Kiss him as if his taste is the oxygen you need to survive.
And he gives it to you right back. Almost as he’s fearing the same thing too. Almost like he doesn’t want to ever let go.
So you just climb up and position your needy pussy above his dick with his help. Delicately easing him into you, stretching you open deliciously till he’s bottomed you up and you can feel how good it is to wrap yourself around him.
“Shit” you moan, feeling so good after good knows how long. “You fill me up so good.”
You start moving up and down, feeling everything there is to feel, giving yourself up to him.
“Pussy was made for me.” he whispers to your lips. “Just for me.”
He moans when your walls clench around his dick, dripping arousal with his words.
“Fuck.” he husks “That’s it, baby.”
You do it again, now on purpose ‘cause you know it makes him insane. You need him like that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Jungkook holds you in place and starts bulking his hips up, cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
“Mmm, too good…” you whimper when he begins a pace that has you seeing stars.
He sighs when he looks at you. His dick is socked with your arousal. Fills you up perfectly, like his body was designed to connect with yours this way. The way it goes in and out drives him mad; but when he looks up at you, closed eyes, full lips trapped between your teeth, hands squeezing those perfect tits. Got him gooshing. Got him head over heals all over again. Got him fucking screwed.
“Fucking perfect.” he moans “Look fucking perfect being dicked down by me”
He feels your walls tighten even more so he slows it down. Wants to make this last more. Wants to make you feel more. That’s not enough, can’t be enough.
So he stops his pumps and holds you down. Just like second nature, your arms wrap around his neck again and you start moving towards him, now rubbing your pussy in sweet movements that he knows will treat your swollen clit well. Knows you love this position, so he helps you out. Spits on one of his fingers and drags it down to your sweet bud. Massages it. Pinches. Makes you whimper, just ‘cause he likes the sound of it.
“Shit, shit, shit, Jungkook!” you say as your hips follow your needs, bulking against his pelvis now. It’s so delicious you think you might go crazy. His dick rubs the perfect spot inside you as your clit gets the perfect friction to set you off.
Jungkook pulls your hair to guarantee his access to your neck, leave tiny love marks all over it. Got you hissing against his shoulder.
“I got you, Bee.” he husks softly.
It’s frightening how fast your climax approaches. You feel the hot waves coming back, building up that frizzing feeling again.
Goosebumps all over your body, you back up to look at him.
You both stare at each other, hips trying to meet the perfect pace now. A sweet pace that has you two building it up together. Feeling together. Giving in together.
His hands are on your ass cheeks, guiding your deep movements, making your cunt take his dick just the way he likes, too. He feels you milking his cock with your walls and his eyelids are tattooed with stars.
“Shit, Bee.” he whimpers “Swear I could die right here and now.”
You giggle and just continue the intense pace. It’s inevitable, to not get emotional. ‘Cause you know you could have this forever. You’ve had everything you could’ve ever wanted. Yet, you let it go.
He opens his eyes again and you’re there. Looking at him with big doe eyes. Loving eyes. Teary eyes. Realizes he loves the shit out of you and cannot think about letting you go again. He will do any fucking thing. Go thru long distance. Take how many flights there is to take. Move to fuckass Australia. Whatever it takes. Just knows you two can’t be separated again.
So he makes love to you. Wants you to remember how it is to be loved. To be loved by him. Tries to show how electrified he feels right now. Needs you to feel the same way.
He guides your hips to continuously make those movements that got him curling his tip toes. One of his hands goes down to you clit again to make it even better for you. Knows it will get you cumming in a heartbeat.
“Ah, fuck!” you moan when he intensifies the rubbing on your harden button. “M’gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, baby.” he husks teasingly. That’s all he wants right now. You, coming undone because of him. The thought itself makes his own climax approach as well, mixed with you cunt stimulations and the sweet sounds you make: that’s the perfect receipt for —his— disaster.
Your body seems to obey him, as he starts to give in and the electric feeling of the orgasm tingles from you head to toe. “Koo, fuck!” you scream, eyes rolling backwards so hard you don’t think you’ll be able to see anything but starts for days.
Jungkook tries to prolong your feeling as he turns you over. Spits directly on your cunt, fucks you rough thru your climax.
“Koo, it’s too much.” you meow, eyes closed with goosebumps all over your body.
“No baby,” he whispers “Just one more, you can take it.”
So he starts the circled rubbing on your clit again. Grabs your hip firmly in a position that got you curling your tip toes.
“Be a good girl and cum for me again, pretty baby.”
Tears rolling down your cheeks, you feel everything amplified right now. It’s like you’ve been electrocuted all of the sudden. It’s like you need to cum or you will die.
Jungkook feels your dripping walls throbbing around his dick again and increases his pace, getting himself there too. “Fuck, that’s it, Bee.” he moans. Keeps rubbing your clit meanly till he feels his hand muscles hurt. “Gonna cum on this pretty pussy.”
“Koo…” you whisper and he feels your final spasms. Suddenly his dick and his hands are washed with your squirt. You fucking squirted on him. Jesus. He can’t hold himself back anymore.
“Fuck baby, fuck!” he says and increases the pace. The new wave of climax seems to be just what he needed to fuse his own orgasm. Everything that was building up now crumbles down when you spasm from your head to toe, body shaking and pussy as tight as ever, making him spill hot shots of cum all over your walls, filling you up, finally staying where it belongs.
He slows the movements now, pumping his every seed inside of you. Needs every part of him on you. His body, mind and soul are yours.
"So pretty dripping with my cum." he smirks.
You whimper with the nastiness of it all. You love it, and he knows it.
He gives you one last peck and eventually crumbles down next to you. Your heart is in a race, thrumming so hard you think it might break your bones now. You don’t know what to do. What’s next. Where this got you two.
Jungkook’s in no better place. The wave of afterglow is slowly fading and his mind is everywhere. He looks at his bedroom ceiling. Wants to say the right thing. Nothing comes to mind. So he turns sideways. Looks at you. Finds the courage he needs when he sees those pretty eyes.
“Bee.” he whispers. Comes closer to you, like he’s about to tell a secret. Keeps a little distance tho, just enough to look at your eyes. Wants to see your reaction. Wants to see the true feelings in them when he says, “Don’t leave me again.”
Your gasp is audible, eyes two sizes bigger as the tears you’ve been holding back all night now roll down your cheeks.
“Please” he says, voice cracking too as if he’s expecting the worst. Expecting you to make the wrong choice again.
“Jungkook—“ you whisper, trying to find the right words.
“Baby, I’ll do anything.” he nervously says “We can try long distance. I have enough money to travel at least once a month.” he starts babbling out.
“O-or if it’s to hard for us, I’ll try to find a restaurant in Australia. I’ll move out with you.” he says with his chest hurting, seeing you taken aback again. He can’t loose you. “Fuck, I’ll literally drop anything there is for you.”
He closes his eyes now. Turns over again. Doesn’t want to see the rejection in your eyes. Doesn’t want you to see the tears on his. He’s too weak for you. Too weak for his own good.
“But I understand i-if..” his voice trails off in hurt, his throat tightening “I understand if you don’t have feelings for me anymore.”
“Koo…” you softly say, giggling with teary eyes. You climb up on him. He keeps his eyes closed like he’s scared of the world outside his eyelids. “Look at me.”
He slowly does, and the trapped little tears fall over, his perfect nose is pinkish, and you just want to melt away.
“I’m not leaving.” you softly say, wiping out his beautiful cheeks.
“W-what?” he stumbles over his words. He can’t believe he heard you right. That can’t be.
“I’m not leaving. I came this time to stay.”
“Are you fucking with me, Bee?” he abruptly stands up and almost got you falling off the bed. He holds you tight on his lap, tho. “Be serious right now.”
You laugh out loud now. Can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe he wants you after all this time. After everything that’s been thru.
“Jeon Jungkook. I swear on Bam’s life” you say with a bright smile on your face.
“Hey! Don’t swear on Bam’s life!”
Like he was waiting for the perfect time, the puppy shows up by the end of the bed, swiping happily his tail with his big eyes looking at both of you.
“Nobody called you here, man.” Jungkook jokily says. Wants to have his private time with you now, and knows Bam will be all over both of you if he stays. “Go back to your room, big boy.”
The puppy stubbornly stays. Looks at you, like he wants the words to come from you now.
“Go, Bamie. We’ll play with you later.”
And so he does, like that’s all he needed to hear to obey.
“Fucking joke.” Jungkook cuffs “Even the dog is head over hells for you.”
"So..." you say with a stupid grin all over your face you might as well apply for a role as the joker. "You're head over hells for me, hm?"
"So..." he immitates you. Knows it tickles the shit out of you. Bickering with you is his love language, too. "You're not going back to Australia?"
"Uh-hum." you giggle, playing with his dark locks.
"What happened? Kangaroo kicked your head over there?"
"Missed my Koogaroo" you pan right back.
"Oh, shut up." He lets out one laud laugh and turns you over in bed, tickles all over your body until your crying.
You both just stare at each other, big smiles spread out in your faces. Happinees flowing thru and between you. That's it. That's where you belong.
"I really missed this." you say softly.
Jungkook towers over you again. Kisses your lips softly. "Missed," your nose. "You," your forehead. "So much." all of your face.
"I love you, Koo." you say softly, staring at him. Staring at his soul. Hoping he believes you. Believes you never stoped loving him, not now, not ever.
"I love you too, Bee."
AND THAT WAS IT! what do you guys think? I struggled so much on the smut parts wtffff why is it so hard hahaha
I was thinking about doing some drabbles of the story since I loved the couple sm! they're so sweet, right? also thought about developing her friendship with tae, maybe after jk/oc are back together, his reaction and apologies ??? or maybe the background of oc/jk's f2l, the day she left aahhh there's so much i could do!
again, i'm sorry if there are any typos! please leave comments if you like the story, i'll accept requests too <3 promise i'll come back soon
taglist: @kooliv @serendipity713 @5seos @pointofviewyugyeom @glitterybreadtimemachine @olimpiiaa @kooklovee @coffeewkth @valwnn @tae-hibiscus @skzthinker @lazyyhooman @sharkipoonis @kiylasstuff @kissyfacekoo @spicxbnny @cookysstuff
tysm for supporting my ff, i hope you enjoy :) xx
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mysterycitrus · 6 months
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Clearly you’ve got a lot of opinions abt the characterisations of the batfam in fandom /pos
Can you elaborate on your interpretation for all of them? /gen
it’s called caring too much — and it’s incurable! wrt my personal interpretation, that's a long and complicated answer, so ill just focus on the internal character of the waynes (specifically bruce and his five canonical kids).
bruce wayne is a control freak, we know this. his parents were killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he has literally never ever been able to truly process it. the degree to which he is controlling - firing robins, survelling his allies without their consent, compiling personal information from others, disregarding others feelings in favour of his own - is all about trying to achieve the best possible outcome. everything he does is justified, because if he's in control then he can stop bad things from happening. it is all in favour of the greater good. it's the logic of an eight year old who's just lost everything and hasn't grown up.
if bruce's trauma manifests control then dick's manifests personal perfectionism. he holds himself to such an absurd standard because he's a flier - when you're catching someone on the trapeze you quite literally have to be there, always, ready to take their hand. if you don't, they fall. if there's no net, if dick isn't the net, then they die. he’s always swinging back out and in again, waiting for the next person to slip through his fingers. he does not fear falling, only what will happen when he hits the ground. he’s a born performer made to be an atlas, carrying an unbearable weight that anchors him to the earth.
jason after death is a tragedy of his own creation, and dc's worst crime is trying to justify the terrible decisions he makes. jason isn’t right, because what he wants is not about protecting other kids from his fate or being a better batman. he wants to be personally vindicated, even though he knows it's impossible. jason rejected himself, bruce, everything, in order to transform into a weapon to enact violence. deep down he's so angry, so hurt, that he'll go after other children - tim, damian, mia - and still decry bruce in the same breath. killing the joker, killing bruce, killing dick, killing every robin before or since won't take him back to who he was before. you cannot go back. you can never go back.
cass sees everything. she can't unsee it, she can't ignore it, nothing in the body can be truly hidden from her, but like bruce that doesn't mean she's always right. she killed a man and witnessed his death, and thus will never take another life. she is all knowing, but she was not born knowing herself. she's jason in reverse — she turns from steel to flesh and bone. she will do whatever it takes to be good. she has made herself real.
tim chose this life in the most literal sense of the word, and then kept choosing it. it’s his duty, it’s his honour, it has hollowed him out and left nothing behind. his tethers to the world snap one by one — janet and jack and darla and dana and steph and kon — and suddenly it’s much harder to extricate himself from the black. robin, dick grayson, is his guiding north star, but his north star is only human. he knows he is capable, he knows this is his choice, and he knows he has long since lost the chance to unchoose.
damian is raised in the shadow of the bat. he is born of blood. he knew death before he knew his father. he is a child. he is ancient. he is a killer. he only wants to do good. he loves his mother. his father is gone before he learns to love damian. damian loves someone else who wears the bat but does not carry wayne name. everything he knows about himself is questioned — robin is given to him, and suddenly he can decide his own fate, make his own family. he wants to be the best, but he doesn’t know what he wants that to mean anymore. he wants the chance to find out.
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leafsheep · 3 days
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When Dick first met Tim, he was a kid at his doorstep begging him to be Robin again, begging him to go back to Bruce so that Bruce could be okay again. He understood what Tim was saying then, and maybe he should’ve said okay- hell he wished he had some days, because now he looks at Timothy and just knows that he could’ve avoided so much suffering if Dick had just agreed.
But he had been fighting with Bruce, he wasn’t okay either. How was he supposed to be okay? How was he supposed to hold together Bruce when he was barely holding himself together? How was he supposed to go back to being Robin when Robin was dead?
Robin was dead. He was dead.
Dick didn’t know when Robin started dying to him. When he was kicked out of the manor, maybe? Or maybe it was when he saw Jason standing in his family colors. Either way Dick knew his mother’s Robin was dying around that time- and when Jason died, when he saw that goddamn shrine to his baby brother who he barely knew… when he realized his family colors, his name, his childhood, was soaked in blood. That’s when he knew Robin was dead.
But if Dick said he didn’t wish he had agreed to Tim’s request he’d be lying. Because seeing another Robin one who was Robin not for himself but for Bruce- for Batman. That put the nail in the casket. Watching Tim as Robin twisted Dick’s guts inside him, it mocked him and told him that Robin will never mean what it once did.
Stephanie’s stint with his name, he didn’t know much of, but his stomach dropped when he heard of what happened to her. He remembered the feeling of guilt and anger pooling inside him, a stinging string of memories and harsh words in his head to remind him of how he should’ve been there.
With Damian he felt bad to take the name from Tim, he felt queasy about letting anyone have the name at all in all honesty, but he was so like him. He looked at Damian and saw the young circus boy who was angry and impulsive and full of potential. He saw Robin.
Damian was brash and he didn’t respect Dick much at first, to him Robin was a connection to his Father who he had lost, Dick could work with that, sure Bruce wasn’t Dick’s Mother and Father, but the basic idea of Robin was the same to them back then.
It’s much later when Dick realizes that it wasn’t just Tim that was hurt by his decision to make Damian Robin. It wasn’t until he failed to save the boy from the clone of himself that he realized how horrible his decision was. Seeing the littlest Robin, blood seeping into his family colors once more, Dick Grayson realized he never should have turned down Tim all those years ago, if he hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened. He realized he should never have left the manor in the first place, he should’ve kept going as Robin and never let Bruce give Jason the name in the first place— or he at least should’ve been able to pick up his damn phone all those years ago, maybe that would’ve changed things too.
Even with the resurrection of Damian, of Robin, Dick can’t see his colors the same.
His parents would never be proud of him if they saw what he let Robin become, a line of young kids all doomed by their name. By his name. He let his family name become a death sentence.
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merakiui · 3 months
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Bunny hybrid riddle who went against his nature and didn't engage in any sorts of icky activities...until his mom remarries, vetting him a new wolf hybrid stepsis and he cant help himself.
His lil bun nose twitching everytime ur around bc u have the most delectable scent coming from between ur legs and oh dear, it seems he isnt as strong as he thought and now he's got ur knees pinned next to your ears, and he's sobbing while fucking you because its not enough, even though he's had you in a mating press and creamed your for hours on end now, his cock isnt anywhere near going soft. He's so nasty and mean with it, using his heel to press against ur cunt at the dinner table, fingering you during family movie night, even eating you out when hes supposed to be waking you up for school >_< once he starts he cant stop and he needs to make up for lost time, or so he tells himself..
BUNNY HYBRID RIDDLE AAAAAAAA,,, the horniest bun you ever did meet... orz he's so swept up in you. Whenever your parents are out of the house, he takes the opportunity to break so many rules with you. It's already bad enough that you're his stepsister; his mother would surely disown him if she found out her golden child was doing something so nasty and naughty behind her back. But Riddle can't help it. He's so obsessed with you and the way you smell and the way your slick cunt clings to his cock every time he's fucking you. You're grabbing at his shoulders and sobbing, too fucked out to tell him to stop or that it's too much.
The two of you hide marks and bruises and bites under clothes or with makeup..... your parents are none the wiser, and if they ask why you're doing laundry more frequently than normal you just smile and tell them you like clean sheets. :) the bad thing about all of this is that once you give Riddle a crumb of pussy he's hooked for life. T^T he can never go back to being the bunnyboy he once was. Now he has to have his dick in you or his mouth on you every other day or so just to satisfy the bunny instinct to fuck. He's even worse when he's in heat. >_< when that happens, you'll just have to spend the week sleeping over in his room so he can have easy access to you. It will be much the same when your heat approaches.
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cemeteryspider · 18 days
Text
Lost and Found
Dick Grayson x Speedster! Reader
Summary: You and your sibling Wally West run to save the world, a trip neither of you return from. That is until you do.
*Gender, race, and sexuality is not specified for the reader, but is referred to as Wally's sibling- can be adopted, biological, or have a different dad or mom since the parents are divorced*
Trigger Warnings: Death, loss, and existential threats
Word Count: 2340
The Bioship was still hovering in the air as you and your team jumped out to witness the disruptor and the havoc it was wreaking on the planet. In a yellow flash, you saw who could only be Wally West running towards the chrysalis, and Artemis in your ear saying something about Wally running off.
With a sudden realization sinking into your stomach, you pulled Dick down to give him a kiss on the cheek.
"Back in a flash, Wing," You whispered in his ear.
You let go of Dick's hand and within milliseconds you were running alongside Uncle Barry, Bart, and Wally.
~~~
You never quite left the superhero scene, mostly helping other heroes with their work when need be. It wasn't that you couldn't become a fully fledged superhero in your own right with the action figures and lunch boxes, but that your life had changed.
You helped train the new heroes who lived at Mount. Justice. You helped them with focus and combat exercises, and allowed them to lean on your shoulder when things got difficult because of course things got difficult when you're dealing with hormonal teenagers who just so happen to have super abilities.
Despite the same lightning strike giving you the same powers as your brother, your powers didn't cause you any pain. So it came as a shock to you when Wally announced his retirement. When Wally left the superhero life for good, you felt lost and hurt. The one person you shared everything with decided to leave you behind.
Luckily, Dick Grayson, someone who knew what you were going through with Wally, stepped in. That's how you and Dick became close friends. You were both the leaders of Young Justice in Kaldur's absence. Finding yourselves alone with the only other person you age being Dick, well lets just say it wasn't a surprise to the team when you announced that you were together.
You allowed Wally back into your life, and allowed him to explain his departure. You felt like a jerk for distancing yourself, and turning away when he needed your support the most. Still he forgave you without a second thought. You and Wally would hang out on a near daily basis nowadays.
Then the Reach and the Light showed up. Regardless of how you felt, you participated in the cover up of Artemis' death. Wally didn't take her death well, her actually being alive well, or your or Dick's involvement in the matter well. Eventually reaching better terms once Kaldur and Artemis were able to stop the Reach and the Light.
That's how you made it here. With your relationship with Wally on the mend, you were running to counter the distributor that endangered Earth and all of its inhabitants.
So you kept running.
"Y/n get out of here! It's dangerous" Wally yelled at you, the high speeds distorted his words along with the disruptor.
"No four speedsters are better than three Walls!" Despite the yelling from your brother and uncle, you kept running.
You were a little faster than Wally, but still slower than the Flash and Impulse. You let yourself fall back to Wally's speed, and nodded at him with solidarity. You kept running.
Each pass around the disruptor you looked at Dick. You wanted to run into his arms and let him take the weight off your sore legs, but you couldn't leave. Then a shock was sent down your spine. You stumbled a little bit but kept running nonetheless.
You and Wally looked at each other and with each hit the chrysalis had on you the slower the two of you became. Still you both ran, you ran so that the world wouldn't be destroyed.
Barry looked at the two of you with worry in his eyes, despite being related by marriage he sometimes acted like the two of you were his own kids. Which was only strengthened when you both moved in with him and Iris after your parents divorced. He taught you both how to run.
The chrysalis continued to dispel its energy onto the two of you. You and Wally were fading from existence, and Barry reached out to you, his hand passing through your shoulder. You kept running.
"It's no good Barry" You looked at Wally and took his hand in yours, "Artemis is so gonna kill me, and don't even get me started on Mom and Dad"
You and Wally shared a knowing look. Neither of you were going to make it out of this. The damage had already been done. So you kept running together.
"Just tell them okay," You said to Barry as you and Wally faded from time and space.
~~~
Nightwing could faintly hear Jaime talking, something both him and you knew to be his scarab.
"Cease? Cease what?" He yelled.
Before Nightwing could work up the courage to ask what he was talking about the chrysalis retreated and left behind a cloud of disrupted snow.
Dick started running towards where the chrysalis used to be and allowed the snow to settle.
When it finally did the team could only see two speedsters in the aftermath. Miss. Martian and Kaldur helped them up while both he and Artemis frantically looked around the open space.
"Wait. Where's Wally?" Artemis shouted before Dick could even think to string together a sentence.
"Artemis, Dick, they wanted me to tell you-" Artemis interrupted him with denial, "they loved you both"
Artemis fell to the ground, and Dick swayed a little before falling to his knees as well. He knew he should be crying, but nothing was coming out. All he could do was hold the hand you were holding minutes ago and stare and where you were just running.
~~~
Dick thought about that day a lot. He dreamt about it. He dreamed of everything he could have done to stop you or keep you from seeing Wally risk his life. In every scenario you ran anyway.
Everything reminded him of you, but for some reason places you went to together pulled him close and tortured his proximity with the memory of you.
Nightwing sat on the rooftop of your old apartment building in Blüdhaven where, when you lived there, he ended up spending most of his time. Now it was inhabited by a couple with a baby, and he imagined his life if you hadn't disappeared years earlier.
After a long while, he allowed himself to continue his patrol, and ended on his fire escape and let himself in. Flopping on his bed after shedding his suit and falling asleep immediately. He didn't even hear his Justice League comm going off.
~~~
A loud slamming knock woke him up from his sleep, and a quick glance at his alarm clock let him know he was only asleep for a couple hours.
The knocking on his door got more frantic very quickly and he silently hoped that his neighbors wouldn't report him for the noise.
Tim stood on the other side of the door in his civilian clothes looking a bit out of breath.
"Tim? Is everything okay?" Dick tried to take his arm to pull him inside but Tim's feet stayed planted firmly on the ground.
"No. We've been trying to reach you for hours. You need to come with me" His sentence was interrupted by his gasping for air.
"Okay Tim. Let me just get a shirt on and we'll go"
Soon they were off, and when he got to the ground floor he saw Alfred parked out front.
"Hello Master Dick"
"Hey Alfred, where are we going"
"I think Master Bruce is the better choice for an explanation"
The ride to a zeta tube was quiet with Tim glancing at him several times in the rearview mirror. When in the zeta tube Dick and Tim were transported to the Watchtower, and with still no idea of why he was being brought into space.
Everything that involved someone needing League help was quickly shot down by Tim being the one to get him.
Batman was standing at the zeta tube waiting for them, and for a split second Dick thought he should have been wearing his suit. Bruce took his arm and guided him to the med bay.
"Dick, I wouldn't have called you here if someone else could confirm this, but I think in this case you're the best one to do this"
"Wait, what am I even doing here, no one has explained anything to me" Dick stopped right in front of the emergency doors and made Bruce look at him.
"Dick, we think that Kid Flash and Red Rapid survived the chrysalis, and somehow made it back here. We received a distress call from the North Pole late yesterday, and we brought them back here" Bruce tried to calmly explain this to him without overwhelming him, but he wasn't sure there was a way to do that.
"So you're saying that they are behind those doors. You're saying that my best friend and my partner are behind those doors after we buried them years ago. Mourned them?" His voice cracked by the end of his small speech. Both Tim and Bruce put a hand on his shoulder, and allowed his tears to fall.
After a few minutes Dick wiped his face and prepared himself for seeing the two people he loved most in the world other than his family. A little push of the door revealed two hospital beds, one with the red-head who he called his best friend, and the other with his partner who was sound asleep, surely exhausted from whatever journey they had gone through to get back.
"Dick?" Wally's voice was almost a whisper and Dick walked over to his bed stopping just before he reached out to touch him.
Quickly Wally grabbed Dick's hand and pulled him into a warm embrace, "I missed you so much Wally. I missed you so much" again the tears began to flow.
"I missed you too man, can you call Arty please I miss her too" Dick pulled himself away from him and gave him a nod.
With a squeeze of Wally's shoulder he went out the doors and asked Tim to call Artemis, and was notified that she was already on her way.
Going back to tell Wally he told Dick, "Go to Y/n, they need you more than I do"
The moment he was dreading came. Still this was the moment he hoped for since the day of your death. He sat in the leather chair next to your bed and gently shook your shoulder. Your eyes fluttered open like they would if it was a movie and you looked into his gorgeous icy blue eyes.
"Hey, handsome, you come here often", the joke left your lips and immediately his lips were on yours. Your arms found your place around his neck and pulled him as close as humanly possible.
"Babe", another kiss to your forehead, and you slid over to make room for him on the bed where he happily sat and snuggled up close to you, "Things just haven't been the same without you"
"Tell me all about it honey, I want to know everything about you" You looked into his eyes and allowed your nose to touch his.
"Maybe later, I just want to hold you, and never let you go"
Your forehead pressed against his and you allowed yourself to relax. Soon you would discuss what you both experienced but right now, holding each other was enough.
~~~
After a lot of tests the League let both you and Wally leave the Watchtower as long as Dick and Artemis looked over you. On your way back to his apartment, where you agreed would be the best place for you to be, he wanted to make a quick stop.
You zeta'd to the Mount. Justice where the lights were dark, and Dick took your hand in his.
"Now I wanted to ask you a long time ago, but I figured we could start where we left off, you know with the romance stuff. Hit the lights Gar!"
The lights came on and the mountain came alive. Most everything was the way you left it, only newer appliances and a ton of renovations. Maybe if you squinted a few more holes in the wall.
As the fairy lights illuminated the walls, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you. The faces of the young heroes you trained, now grown into their own, the old Young Justice team, and your mentors were all gathered around. You looked to Dick to ask what was going on, but when you looked over you had to look to the ground where he was kneeling.
"I know we have a lot to talk about and work out, but there is no one who I would rather spend the rest of my life with", He met your eyes and opened the little box in his hands. A small shiny ring glimmered inside the velvet box, "would you do me the honor of being marrying me"
A couple of blinks and a second of silence later, "Yes! Of course I'll marry you", Suddenly Dick stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a circle. Once he set you down, he placed the ring on your finger and kissed your lips.
You dashed over to Wally, Bart, and Barry and gave them the biggest hugs. Barry held onto you for a long moment, despite seeing you very soon after you got to the Watchtower emotions were still high and he wanted to make sure you weren't going to dematerialize again.
You hugged all the kids, who were now young adults, and allowed your tears to flow down your cheeks. Though with the huge smile plastered on your face no one was confused about what you felt in this moment. You decided it was time to stand still for a little while.
~~~~~
Author's Note: The ring was in fact his mother's. I've read that some Romani people burn their loved ones belongings once they die but I think that they would give the rings to Dick to use as his own ~If anyone knows if this is true please let me know!
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ellana-ravenwood · 1 year
Text
“I HATE YOU !” - Batfam/Batkids x fem!reader/Batmom
Synopsis : Not everything is always made of sunshines and rainbows. Sometimes, things go wrong. Sometimes, your children lash out at you, and scream : “I hate you !” before storming off...A story about how you handle those burst of anger from each of your kids, over the span of a few years.
Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.
My masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives​
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DICK 
"I HATE YOU !!” 
He screams, running off and closing the door behind him violently. 
BANG !!
You’re not sure that “bang” is the sound of the door slamming, or your heart breaking. 
This was the first time your child said something so hurtful to you. And it was quite a shock. You weren’t sure how to react. 
As if moved by instinct, Bruce immediately moved next to you, and put an arm around your shoulder, as if to shield you from the hurt. It was only a little bit comforting...
When he was younger, Dick struggled greatly with his anger. He had trouble managing it, and it’s only after a big fight with Bruce, and some times apart, that he truly started to understand himself, and become the man he was now. 
The reason he left with the Titans, and then later, left for Bludhaven...was his mismanaged anger. And it was also yours and Bruce’s fault. You were still new parents, you were still learning, you didn’t always have the best reactions. 
Bruce would react with anger too, which he knew now was the worst thing he could do. But to his defense (and you would always defend him), he was also just processing his trauma, and trying to navigate how to “tackle” his son’s own traumatic experience. He wasn’t sure how to act, with that kid. 
He was too strict, he expected too much, because he wanted Dick to NOT reiterate his own mistakes. He wanted his boy to feel better, to be able to be happy...something he thought he could never be again, before meeting you. 
It took a very long time for Bruce, to get out of this dark pit he buried himself in. He didn’t want Dick to take the same path. He wanted him to NOT be a second “Batman”. He wanted him to be his own man. 
Which lead to a lot of mistakes. But hey, you couldn’t be a perfect parent all the time. And let’s admit it, Dick wasn’t always easy to handle. Especially during his fits of anger, which he sometimes had when he was young, and which slowly disappeared during his teenage years (although even today, if you truly managed to make him angry, he could get quite scary...Ah, but like father like son). 
You didn’t even remember why he told you “I hate you”, it was all a blur now, years later. But you remember how you felt. 
Heartbroken, like you failed as a parent. As if you weren’t enough for that little boy, who had lost everything and was “forced” to become part of your family. 
That simple “I hate you” had triggered so many questions in yours and Bruce’s mind. How could you react ? Not like he gave you the time to, as he left the room right away. 
What was the right reaction ? What if he did truly hate you ? What could you do to salvage this relationship ? What-
You were both so lost. 
You would do many more mistakes as parents, but that day-
That day, things got resolved on their own, as Dick came back a few moments later, with an apologetic look on his face. 
It was clear he wanted to pretend nothing had happened. Yet, that child had already a lot more emotional intelligence than most, and instead of ignoring everything, he just said : 
“You know I love you, right ?” 
And that was the end of it. And a first step to understand an important, and key thing about raising a child : sometimes, they WILL lash out at you. And say they hate you. But they never truly mean it. It’s just a way of processing an overwhelming amount of negative emotions. A way to protect themselves. 
“I hate you.”, often comes from the opposite feeling. They love you so much, but they’re angry, and they think of the first thing that could hurt you and-
Dick never said it again after that. In fact, it was almost a biggest traumatic experience to him, than it was to you. Because he hated feeling this ugly things, and he hated hurting others, especially not those he loved. “I hate you”, were words he never meant towards anyone. He felt so bad, about telling them to you and Bruce, who took him in as your own child. 
But beyond that, what made him entirely stop even thinking about saying that again. Beyond that, he never said it again, even when he fought with his dad, because he knew. He never crossed that limit again, because he knew. Him most of everyone, knew. Life was so short, and what if the last thing he told you or Bruce was : “I hate you ?” 
He could never forgive himself. And for him too, this was an important step. One step closer, to controlling his anger, to understand himself, to let himself feel, and explain his feelings. 
Yes. This first “I hate you”, was an important moment for all of you. Parents, and child. A first stone set upon a building, that would grow each year. A first experience showing that not everything could be perfect, and that mistakes would be made. 
But as long as you were there for each others, and as long as you knew that no matter what, you would always love one another...You’d pull through the hardest times. 
JASON
Talking about the hardest of times. 
Jason was a good kid. He never once told you he hated you, before his death. On the contrary. The boy never shied away from expressing his feelings. 
He would outright tell you and Bruce, that he loved you. He would show you by countless kind acts towards you two, that he was the happiest he’s ever been, since you adopted him. 
Finally. Finally he felt safe and loved. Finally he had an actual family, people who cared about him...Why would he tell them that he hated them ?��
No. Never would it have come to Jason’s mind to use those words towards you. 
Oh, oh but after his death ? After his traumatic resurrection ? After he came back to Gotham City, only to find out you not only “replaced” him (his feelings towards Tim at first were...complicated), but you also never killed that hateful clown ?? 
Jason hated you. He hated you so much. 
But it was because he loved you. He always worshipped you and his dad, viewed you as those perfect beings who saved him from a life of misery. This was probably “his” first mistake...Nobody was perfect. 
But in Jason’s eyes, his mom and dad were. You and Bruce. 
And so when he came back, and neither of you avenged his death, he felt so hurt that- 
“I hate you.”
Those words, he said them a lot. In total contrast of him before the “incident”, before it all went to sh-. 
“I hope you know I hate you. So much. I wish I had never met you.” 
He wasn’t “half-assing” it, Dick would say. No. He definitely went “full ass” on you and Bruce, not hesitating for a second to express his high level of anger towards you two. 
And the worst ? Neither of you were mad at him for it, on the contrary. His words summed up years of your life. Years of you two hating yourselves for not being able to save your son, and not having the guts to go through with it concerning “The Joker”. 
You didn’t even think about defending yourselves. You understood how hurt he was. You-You deserved his anger. You deserved his hate. 
Ah, but Jason never really truly hated you. Deep down, his harsh words were born from feeling hurt and rejected. 
You two were the only persons who ever made Jason feel safe. When he came back, and saw you “moved on”, that you weren’t mourning him anymore (which wasn’t true, it might’ve appeared like that for the sake of Dick and Tim, but neither you nor Bruce could ever heal from one of your children’s death, the wound would always bleed), and that you didn’t take revenge-
He felt like it had all been fake. Like you never loved him. Like you lied to him, all those times you called him your son, or when you told him you loved him, and that he meant so much to you. 
Jason hated you, because he thought you never loved him. How ironic, right ? 
Thinking back to it, maybe you should’ve been more obvious with your feelings. Tell him since the first day you realized he came back, that you loved him, and that living without him was torture. 
That losing him was unbearable, and that you and Bruce almost broke for good (but had to be strong for the rest of the family). 
Maybe, you should’ve told him everything right away. And not let his anger fester. Not let him say more and more “I hate you”s. Maybe...
Ah, but it was easy, to look back at an event and think : “what if ?”. 
Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. You were so shocked by Jason’s anger towards you, and thought so much you deserved it, that you didn’t immediately tell him how you truly felt. 
And it took all of you so much time, to finally talk. To finally understand each other. To finally forgive. Jason, to forgive you. You and Bruce, to forgive yourselves. 
So much wasted time...
Jason would always regret how he told you many times he hated you. Because it was never true. What he wanted to hear, in answer to those words, was : “I love you.”...He just didn’t know how to process all his emotions. 
And you would always regret that it took you so damn long to finally chase after your son, and make sure he knew you loved him. Make sure he knew he meant everything to you. 
It wasn’t a work you did alone. Thanks god for Alfred, Dick, and even Tim. 
And thanks god for Jason’s strength, for how he was able to forgive, even as he-
Yes. This would be a great source of regret for all of you. Maybe that was why, nowadays, Jason would NEVER shy away (once more) to say “I love you mom”, and why you made sure you told him, and showed him your love, every chance you got...
TIM
Even the most loving, sweetest kids, sometimes say hurtful things. 
Tim was one of those adorable children, who always wanted to help, whom you could always count on, but who would hide away his feelings too much for his own good, and would eventually break. 
“When coming from a child in whom there is generally a love-based relationship, ‘I hate you’ is a normal part of emotional and psychological development”, said a psychotherapist to you once (mental health issues were given a very important place, in the Wayne’s household...None of you ever felt ashamed of needing a little professional help at times). 
You experienced it with Dick and Jason. You knew it would eventually happen with Tim. Especially since he could be a little emotionally stunted at times. 
Tim wanted SO MUCH to help, and to save everyone, and to be there for the one he loved...he would often burry his own feelings, and pretend everything was ok. And sometimes, like a volcano, he would explose. 
Like today. But you were expecting it. 
It hadn’t been long since, unfortunately, Conner passed away. 
Conner Kent was an important person for your family. You always adored the kid (and he was the source of the very few fights you had with Clark, as you hated how he initially treated the boy). But he was probably the most important to your Tim. 
Although he never admitted it by then, you were pretty sure your son was in love with Superboy. That they weren’t only the best of friends. And you were pretty sure Conner shared his feelings...
But now, now they could never truly talk about it. 
Because Conner was gone. And he wasn’t coming back (A/N : yeah you know, comics, so we know he’ll eventually come back, but for the drama of it all, it seemed at the time that he wasn’t going to). 
It was hard for your son to process that. He became even more obsessed with his “work”, skipping school to spend all his time on his vigilante cases. 
And that day, he had skipped school once too many, and you and Bruce decided you would ground him. Forbid him, for a little while, to go out as Red Robin. And-
And that probably wasn’t your best idea. Probably wasn’t how you should’ve handled that at the time. Punishing him wasn’t the way to go, you knew that now. Oh, but it was easy, when you had the few steps back years later, to realize your mistake. On the moment though, it seemed like the only thing to do to save your son from dying out of exhaustion. 
His reaction was both expected, and unexpected. 
You knew he would snap at some point. You just didn’t expect him to snap because he was grounded...
“I HATE YOU !!” He screamed, truly angry, throwing a book across the room. 
But you knew. You knew he didn’t hate you. He was hurt, and sad, and he didn’t know how to handle all his emotions. 
He didn’t hate you, he hated himself. 
He hated himself for not being able to save his friend. To save the man he loved. To-
Tim always made it his mission, to save everyone. Especially those close to his heart. And so this, was a failure he had a hard time handling. 
It translated in that “I hate you” he threw your way. 
But you knew. You knew how he felt. 
“Well, it’s too bad, because I love you.” 
You answered, and you could see he was taken aback by this. You could see he was struggling with himself, and wasn’t sure what to say. 
“I love you, Tim. I love you so much.” 
Tears. Welling up on the corner of his eyes. And then it was another kind of volcano erupting...
All sign of anger disappeared, as he collapsed in your arms, and finally- 
Finally let himself mourn the death of his best friend, and first love. 
DAMIAN
It happened not long after your youngest boy came into your life. 
Damian had disappointed his dad. He knew it. He had killed a man, because he thought it was the only way to stop him from hurting his family. 
It came from a good intention. He wanted to stop someone from arming his loved ones. He wanted to permanently make sure that person wouldn’t come back one day, and kill his dad, his siblings, or you (he hadn’t yet came to call you “mom”, but it would come soon). 
It came from good intentions. 
He wanted to protect. And the only way he was taught how to do that, while in the League of Shadows, was to kill. Because, what was more permanent than death ? What would assure your safety, but to kill the danger ? 
But your son knew. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do that anymore. He knew his father expected him to do better. He knew...Yet he hadn’t been able to control himself. And he was feeling really bad about it. 
Of course, Bruce would forgive him. Would not give up on him. But still, Damian disappointed him. He disappointed you. Or so he thought, at least. 
He was feeling so bad about himself...And here it came.
Instead of expressing his feelings about all of that, instead of putting into words, or in drawing form for example (his go-to way to express himself), he lashed out. 
And unfortunately, you were in his way. He turned his negative feelings towards you, but you weren’t about to let him run with it. 
Damian wasn’t your first child. You had dealt with the “I hate you” phrase before, hell you even had to go through the very painful “You’re not my REAL mom” one (you can read this in that story : “You’re not my real mom”)...You more or less knew how to handle it now. 
An immediate emotional response would only make it worst. And so, as Damian yells : 
“I HATE YOU !!” at you, after you tried to talk to him about what he did (you wanted to comfort him, he took it the wrong way...which could happen with anyone), you took a deep breath. 
You stayed silent for a few seconds. And then you looked at him right in the eyes, and said : 
“No, I’m sorry. You may not speak this way to me. Let’s try to calm down first and then get to the bottom of what is going on. I can tell you are feeling very stressed, angry, overwhelmed. I can imagine a lot is going on and it’s making you feel such strong emotions inside, emotions of 'hate.' You probably feel you hate everything, all the things you need to do and all the stuff 'we' make you do. It’s hard. I know. Let’s talk about it.” 
Damian was stunned. He did not expect this response. He thought you would hate him in return, or be mad at him. 
“Hating me or using those words to express your anger is not going to help you fix how you’re feeling. It may make you feel 'good' in the moment of saying it, but not later. You will likely feel regret, feel sorry, feel bad. That doesn’t feel good. So, no saying that. But let’s talk about all the stress you feel. Let’s talk about your feelings, Damian. Please. Tell me what’s wrong, and how we can fix it."
Damian wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t. 
He had never been taught to accept failure. Nobody ever told him it was ok to not feel well. Nobody- Nobody ever expressed understanding towards him. 
He felt his throat choking up. He felt tears coming to his eyes. He felt-
He turned away from you, still use to hide those feelings. Still used to not show any sign of weakness. He turned away- But you delicately caught his chin in your hand, and turned his face back to you. 
And in your eyes...In your eyes, he could see that you wouldn’t give up on him. That you wouldn’t turn away, even as he made mistakes. That you were here for him. That you- 
That day, you received from him a hug. The very first hug he ever gave you. And of course, you answered it by wrapping him in your own arms. 
And Damian felt safe. Wanted. Loved. And he heard himself spill everything to you. He heard himself talk to you about his worries, about how he hated himself, about-
Everything. 
He told you everything. And most of all, he told you that of course, he didn’t hate you. He could never hate you.  
CASS
Cass wanted to hurt you. She was so angry, frustrated and upset, that her next few words were specifically aimed at hurting your feelings : 
“I hate you.” 
She says flatly, yet in a very definite tone. She knows what she’s doing, and she knows she’ll most likely regret it later. But right now, blinded by rage, she says those dreadful words anyway.
Unfortunately for Cass, by now, you knew that when one of your children lashed out at you in that way, they didn’t truly mean it. You and Alfred came to an analogy, for when your kids would suddenly want to hurt you with their words : 
They were like a tea kettle. 
In that way, that when the water's boiling, the kettle sings, and is too hot to handle. It takes time for the water to get back to room temperature. Right ? Well, when their water was too hot, they simply couldn’t think clearly anymore, as they entered fight or flight mode. Which is why they reflexively use the hate word, to "protect" themselves from their vulnerable feelings.
Right now, Cass’ water was way too hot, for reasons that honestly wouldn’t matter anymore in a few hours. And so she said : “I hate you.” 
Step by step. A deep breath. A small silence. And then you say : 
"No, you don’t hate me. But I know that at times we don’t see eye to eye or it feels I am in your way or that I don’t understand. You’re right, I don’t always understand, but I want to. Sometimes, I am in your way, simply because I am still raising you. It’s OK if you don’t always agree with me. My job is not for us to agree on everything but to hopefully provide you with what you need for a few more years until you’ll take care of yourself all on your own."
This seems to fuel her rage even more. How dare you be understanding, while she’s trying to hurt you ? How dare you answer her bile with kind words ? 
"I get that you’re angry but hate is not the way to label that or express that. I want us to be able to discuss our differences and even teach each other things. I also want to hear what you have to say. So, no more saying, 'I hate you’, regardless of how angry, frustrated, or stressed you feel. From now on, you will just tell me about your feelings and I will listen. Alright ?'
Not alright. At least for her, in that moment. Instead of talking, she glares at you, turn around, and leaves, slamming the door behind her, with all her might. Too angry to listen, or to talk. And you know what ? It was ok. 
It was ok, if things weren’t immediately resolved in the moment. You had learned that, over the years. It was ok, if right now, she was not willing to talk it out. To explain. To release her anger. She just needed time. And that was ok. 
And so you let her storm off, and waited. 
You didn’t have to wait for very long. A few hours later, she came back to you. Looking ashamed, and sad. 
Ah, but you made sure she had nothing to feel ashamed off. It was ok to be angry, it was ok to not know how to handle one’s own emotions. It was a good learning process, wasn’t it ? 
“Sorry.”
She told you, and what else was there to do, but to take her into your arms ? 
DUKE
“I hate you..”
Duke whispers, and although you know he doesn’t mean it, your heart still squeeze in that very uncomfortable way...
But you understood. You understood. 
You and Bruce just signed official papers to make him your son, as his parents weren’t getting any better, and it was clearer and clearer they would never heal from what the Joker did to them. 
But Duke still had hope. He still thought they could be saved. And he held onto that hope, even as he slowly settled in his life at Wayne Manor. Even as, despite himself, he slowly started to see you and Bruce as his second parents. 
And here you were, sighing adoption papers, making it official that his parents would never be the same ever again. 
To him, you were representing his shattered hopes. He had truly lost his parents...
Of course, he would “hate” you in that moment. Of course. But by then, you were used to your children not being well, and lashing out their negative feelings at you. So you start by saying : 
"There is a lot going in your life and I can understand how sometimes you just want nothing to do with any of it, and that-”
“DON’T ACT AS IF YOU UNDERSTAND !” 
He does not let you finish, and his whispers turn into screams. He feels so angry, so lost, so desperate. His last hope of having his parents again is gone, and you’re trying to comfort him ?? 
Proof that, even after decades of being a parent, you don’t always have the right words, or you don’t always do the right thing to soothe your child. 
You take a step back, a deep breath, and-
You don’t say anything. This wasn’t the “I hate you” screamed because you told him “no” about something. This was the “I hate you” born from utter desperation and sadness. He still didn’t mean it. But he needed to say it. 
So you let him. 
You feel Bruce’s hand on your back, as per usual, your husband is always near for you. You’re stronger, together. He’s your rock, you’re his pillar. 
Together, you can face this. You can go through it because you know you have support. You know he’s going to be there for you, and you for him. It makes things so much easier, to know there’s at least one constant in your life...
You don’t say anything, and you let Duke tell you a few more times that he hates you. You let him leave the court, and run off on his own. You’re worried, of course, but you know-
You know he needs the time alone. You know he needs to process things, alone. You know he’ll come back to you, once he’ll feel ready. 
And so for now, you and Bruce wait. His arms around you, yours holding him. Comforting each other with your mere presence. His fingers massaging your scalp, your hands running soothing circles on his back. 
You’re not alone for this. You’re parents, together. And you’ll figure that out, together. Worst things come to worst...There’s always Alfred, to run to for advices, right ? 
But you got this. You got it. 
And Duke does too. Right now, he needs to be angry. But he’ll come around. And he’ll realize that truly...He’s not actually alone in this. 
_________________________________________________
A short bonus story, as I only managed to write this today (feeling a bit under the weather). I hope you liked it nonetheless ! As per usual, comments/reblogs always greatly appreciated, motivating, and welcomed <3. Thank you in advance, and see you soon with a longer, more fleshed out story.  
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Some thoughts I have on cute story line/au
Wally and dick are dating took them forever to actually admit they got feeling for each other even if everyone else alrighty knew.
Wally is the flash berry is still alive and the flash. They kind of both are at the same time. No it's not confusing unless your arent from key stone or central city. If your from bludhaven you are to scared to ask due to seeing Nightwing and flash kissing. If your from anywhere else then you are probably confused.
Bruce gets lost in the time line
Dick unfortunately has to take up the mantle of Batman
Wally doesn't like that but support his boyfriend in any and everyway he can.
Dick moved back into the manner makes Damian Robin and works closely with him. Wally just about spends every night there even if he isn't living there technically. Since his name is on their old apartment and they don't fully want to lose it yet.
Dick and Damian become close. And thus Wally and Damian become close.
Damian starts seeing them as his parents. Calling them dad in different languages they don't know
Dick has an idea of what's Damian is doing. He knows his Damian even if they don't say it. Dick and wally refers to Damian as their kid.
Wally and Dick go to all meet the parents and Damian art shows and just every and anything they can. Damian will not say it but he is glad to have them there. He gets so upset if anything wrong happens cause he doesn't want them to think he not good enough anymore.
Wally and Dick get engaged Damian knew it was happening. He when with Dick to help pick out the rings. Well he when with Dick to help look at rings and get an idea of style. then waited as Wayne enterprises made something that would work for a speedster. He also inspected the ring very closely to make sure the people who made it didn't mess up.
Bruce comes back
Damian thinks he has to go back with Bruce and Wally and Dick won't want him anymore. Bruce of course thinks he is entitled to Damian. Wally and Dick are heart broken but think its best if Damian stays with Bruce.
Everyone but Bruce cry
Bruce is a bad parent and doesn't see Damian as anything but the killing machine he was trian to be and how he was right when he was dropping off at Bruce door step a few years ago.
Damian is the ring bearer for the wedding of course and hoes with them on wedding planning.
Alfred hates how Bruce is not showing love and how excited Damian is when Dick and wally come over. And how sad he gets as soon as they leave.
Alfred prints out adoption paperwork for what feels like the millionth time and instead of giving to Bruce puts in Dick pile of papers.
Wally and Dick almost cry when they find it and fill out what is their part. They take Damian out for ice cream. And ask Damian if he wants to be with them. Damian of course says yes and how their his dads and please don't leave him again.
They go back and start packing up stuff and go to the bat cave to get Bruce to sign the papers.
Bruce says no he will not and that they baby Damian and he needs to be watched carefully. Dick and Wally are going to get killed if they trust Damian so easily. And he will not let them take him.
Dick and wally are so upset dick gets mad. And yells at Bruce about how he been gone and Damian been hurt so much by him. Wally ends up being like Bruce you have 3 days otherwise we are taking this to court and taking our child back the hard way.
Damian doesnt understand why he can't go with them now. Wally unfortunately understands that it looks worse if they kidnap Damian by taking him now. They promised it only going to be a little bit and they get him very soon.
Damian spends the next three days packing up everything when he not busy. Alfred brings him boxes. Bruce tried to unpack things saying he not going anywhere. Alfred starts moving the boxes to a safe space that Bruce can't get to. But isn't Dick and Wally's place.
Bruce doesn't sign the papers
They go to court Dick and Wally get a lawyer for themselves and one for Damian. Bruce says it stupid for Damian to have his own one. And it's actually Dick and wally having two.
The judge ends up picking Damian a new lawyer and whoever wins have to pay for Damian's.
A lot of Damian's teachers are called in. Damian art teacher is one of the ones who help a lot. She brings up a project about their family tree and how Bruce and Talia are on there. But also Wally and Dick are on it. And Damian has put himself under them but arrows to Bruce and Talia with blood parents.
Talia ends up showing up. Which no one really knows how she knew what was happening. She says wants her son with Bruce that's why she drop him off at his place. (To train with the Batman)
I need to go to bed about 40 minute ago I'll come back and finish my thoughts
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thecruellestmonth · 11 months
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Bruce & Jason fic recs: sweet and bittersweet
Some of the best sweet and sweet-and-sad fan fiction featuring the bond between a Good Batdad and his scrappy birdson.
>Sweet - light and fluffy, minimum hurt with maximum comfort
"Call Me Hopeless" by incogneat_oh - Bruce says good night to Jason and Dick.
"Alternative Means of Acquisition" by Imbecamiel - In which Bruce Wayne arm-wrestles Lex Luthor.
"home is such a lovely place" by evanescent - Jason's first time sneaking out to patrol doesn't go as planned. (He didn't mean to get sick, alright?)
"White Christmas" by LemonadeGarden - Jason's been in the manor for a few months now. Bruce is a pretty cool guy, sure, but he's not exactly sure what to expect from him. And then they go to Siberia in the winter on a case. It goes horribly wrong, and then pretty well.
"Not Guilty, Sir" by incogneat_oh - Robin smoked.
"Safe Space" by Cerusee - Turns out, Bruce and Jason aren’t quite on the same page about who’s parenting whom. Bruce is going to need to clear some things up.
"Sold to Wonder Woman (by my evil adoptive father Batman)" by JeanjacketCarf - Jason writes some fan fiction. It's totally not a self-insert.
"Mint Chocolate Chip" by LemonadeGarden - Summer vacations have been going on just long enough for Jason to start getting bored, when he gets an unexpected visitor. From the future.
"Cookies And The End of The World" by AnActualCrow - Jason has a bad day at school. Alfred and Bruce make him feel better.
"I Love You" by DetectivePrettyBoy - Jason wants to tell Bruce that he loves him.
"don't take your guns to town" by kreestar - batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne.
"The legends and the myths" by orphan_account - Jason Todd is the best liar Bruce's ever met. Jason Todd is the worst liar Bruce's ever met.
"Growing Like A Breeze" by whaleofatime - April 27th isn't anyone's favourite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.
"Rise Up With The Sun" by blacklettered - His son came home on a Wednesday evening and Bruce did not call for the slaughter of the fattened calf but it was a close thing. Jason quietly decides to come home, and Bruce is quietly delighted. (Also there's a bunch of freaky Edgar Allan Poe shit happening in the background because lowkey Jason Todd is a revenant who walks the earth as if living and yet remains irrevocably connected to the forces of death and decay—but that's not as important.)
"Bet on it" by Lysical - Damian asks Jason for a favor.
"homerun" by someplacewarm - Bruce backs out from a baseball game with Jason last minute. They handle it just about as well as they handle anything else: bad, then better.
"the reflex" by TheResurrectionist - Jason takes a smoke break.
"Boof" by strikeyourcolors - When Bruce finds Jason turned into a dog in an alley, he tries to take care of him. He didn't plan on getting along so well with this canine form…or getting so emotional.
"Late Night Langoustining" by whaleofatime - Jason steals a live lobster from a supermarket.
"bred in decency and order" by OkayAristotle - Bruce cuddles his giant son. (Contains brief vomiting.)
"Sealing the deal" by orphan_account - In which Bruce Wayne is kidnapped and it’s somehow not the most difficult part of anyone’s day.Or, in which Jason Todd is a selkie.
"Plus-One" by Goldmonger - All the kids were permitted to bring a guest to the gala. Dick brought Barbara, Tim brought Bernard, Duke brought Ana, Cass brought Steph, Damian brought Jon, and Jason brought a forty-year-old 6’6” man with no sense of personal boundaries. Bruce is getting too old for this nonsense.
"the road home" by drakefeathers - Set during Lost Days. An injured and exhausted Jason succumbs to homesickness.
"the clay steals the clay" by zipadeea - Bruce discovers that Jason is alive in the sweetest, funniest way possible.
>Bittersweet - sweet mixed with melancholy, lots of hurt with some comfort; may contain mentions and depictions of child death
"Beneficiary" by sirsparklepants - The beneficiaries of the estate of Jason Todd.
"bird of winter" by knowsphere - Damian meets a ghost. Based on the short story "The Delusions of Alfred Pennyworth" at the end of Batman: Gotham Knights #34.
"A Proper Goodbye" by ceemobster - The emergence of the Red Hood throws Bruce into disarray, and then Jason pays him a visit. The epilogue of the "Under the Red Hood" story... set after Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.
"this gun needs no bullets" by sacrr - A true Knight is made, not born. Or: the story of Jason Todd. [Batman: Arkham Knight]
"when you were young you used to dream about fires" by someplacewarm - Bruce travels back in time and finds himself in Jason's childhood home. Things aren't easy, but they were never this hard.
"through the valley of the shadow" by Goldmonger - Jason gets kidnapped and tortured. He rescues himself, partly.
"a little bit louder now" by mx_chrx99 - A mission gone awry, too many memories, too much blood, and not enough time. Bruce races to save a son he couldn't save before.
"Haunting" by the_authors_exploits - A child dies of neglect on the streets of Crime Alley; even then, the Batman won't give up on him.
"rip up the floorboards" by orphan_account - Content warning for non-graphic discussions of past CSA. When Jason was young and starved, he hid something like a corpse in his own body. Hurt/comfort.
"Wayward Birds" by LanternWisp - Featuring hilariously crunchy overbearing parent Bruce, who forbids his kid from consuming coffee or dairy.
"Moderation" by orphan_account - In which the Riddler accidentally saves the city a few years early by helping rescue Robin II from Joker’s clutches. Out of pure and vicious spite. [Arkhamverse]
"You're Just A Baby, You Can Not Fly" by BabblingBookends - Batman visits Jason's grave to say goodbye to his partner.
"To See the Stars" by lurkinglurkerwholurks - Jason and Bruce go for a hike.
"Younger Bruce, Older Jason - Shorter Fic" by whatomen
"Knock On Death's Door" by CastleGachi - Red Hood rescues a wounded Batman.
"here in our house, reminders of you" by jesamnelovelace - A Christmas present from Jason becomes Bruce's closest connection to his son after his death.
"a broken piece of what we used to be" by Cerusee - Bruce and Jason messily yet lovingly deal with the ramifications of Damian's resurrection and Nightwing's supposed death.
"Mask Of Blood" by Kieron_ODuibhir - When Jason is trapped in the past, Bruce turns to Jason Blood for help.
"By Any Other Name" by ManURonaldo - Jason thinks of Bruce and Batman as separate people.
"Someone That Hates To See Me Go" by AutumnHobbit - Or, how Jason realizes his family wants him to live, and how he realizes he does, too. (Oprah voice) Your fave gets hurt/comfort! And your fave gets hurt/comfort! They all get hurt/comfort!
"through death and time" by sparkycap - After a mission that takes Batman and Nightwing back twenty years in the past, they end up with time to kill. Bruce does what he does best: he finds a kid. Luckily this one is already his.
"Mighty" by Sparkypants - Five things Bruce taught Jason when he took him in, and one thing Jason taught Bruce.
"it's always sunny in coast city" and "the alignment of the planets, and of you and i" by atlasky - In which Uncle Hal Jordan loves Jason, but Bruce absolutely adores him with every fiber of his being.
"Trapped" by lurkinglurkerwholurks - Bruce and Jason end up trapped in a collapsed building. Jason really dislikes being buried alive.
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rainybyday · 2 years
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Wayne Spirit Add-Ons
Add ons that don’t connected to each other but they probably could of the Wayne Spirit and/or Comic Cross Dimension au idea (pick your favorite) by me
+Danny knows exactly where Damian is because all he needs to do is follow the energy radiating off a Lazarus pit and BOOM, there’s a baby Damian
+Danny won’t kill Joker because sometimes there are worse things then death
+Danny knows where Cass is every single time and she can’t sneak up to him
+Once he knows Duke can see him he started to play hide and sneak to see how many times he can avoid Duke finding him
+Stephanie won’t die, not even for a minute because there is no way Danny was letting any one of his Bats die in Gotham
+Danny will cling on to any Bat who is sad on their backs and won’t go away until they get the care they need or feel better (since they all know that cold spot is their Ghost hugging them and watching them when they are at their worse and is comforting them)
+Danny is always there when anyone gets sick by their bed side
+Kate just accepted the fact Danny existed, no more need to be said when your a vigilante who kicks drama theater kids ever night in a bat suit, a ghost isn’t that far out their
+Danny did meet the spirit of Gotham, had a fight, Gotham sulking that they lost, Danny swearing that he will take care of the Wayne’s and made a pact for them to co-parent the family 
+Alfred is god and Danny respects him and admires him a lot, so when Alfred always verbally gives him gratitude when he cares for the family Danny will get flustered so bad (even if Alfred can’t see him (yet))
+Danny loves all the Bats but Bruce is his favorite, his boy, his baby that he found, his child who he comfort, his teenage he protected, his silly adult he sighed about, his hero who he became so ultimately proud of 
+The same time that Danny was protecting the Wayne’s he was also going to the Drake’s residence to play with a cute cubby baby Tim
+Danny died (again) of laughter when he saw the scene of Jason stealing the tires off the Batmobile
+Danny is always there when the kids are training to become a Robin because training injuries traumatized him when Dick almost fell down a tightrope once
+He didn’t stop the Joker from shooting Barbara in time but he did get to him before he could touch any of the Gordon’s
+Danny is a hugger and a clinger, if you are touched by the Danny, every Bat has the unspoken rule of stopping whatever your doing to rest (they all learned from Bruce who made the mistake of going out as Batman when Danny was clinging on him)
+Danny thinks Damian is hilarious and adorable when he first meet him after spending a good amount of his childhood slightly disliking that Robin
+No villains will, nor will ever can kidnap a Bird to train them without their consent because Danny will be there to show exactly what happened when you touch those that he claims as him (he knows some training sessions are unavoidable but that doesn’t stop him from freezing anyone of those villain mentors from hurting or making any of his Bird’s from doubting themselves of any kind)
+Everyone in the manor always obey Danny, even Alfred (which is very few times since Danny and Alfred always agree with one another to protect the idiots they fondly call their family)
+Loves when Damian is finally at the manor because of all the pets 
+Danny finds listening to Jason reading soothing as it reminds him of Jazz
+Danny always gets Tim to get some rest, always
+Takes care of Steph when she is Robin because clearly someone wasn’t going to be kind to her in anytime soon
+Danny always claps when Dick does his small flairs during fights or during patrol
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youronlydarlin · 3 months
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warnings: noncon/dubconish??, incest, Kylar being nasty per usual, good sibling pc, bad grammar
Kylar's probably an incest loving freak. It's been years since the terrible accident that's befallen his parents, oh, well, your parents too actually, but one thing was for sure, that none of you ever recovered from it. The mansion was never the same again, at times it was hard to even walk around, the painful memory of what was once a happy childhood collecting dust like the furniture covered in white sheets, piled in some forgotten corner of the room.
You're heartbroken, to say the least. Grieving what you've never lost, considering how you're "parents" are technically still here, but they're in the form of something that's more monster than man. Not to mention... Your brother. He's probably taking it the hardest, you think. The lil fella spending most of his days couped up in his room doing god knows what. Has he eaten..? Drank water..? What about school, how're his studies..? You worry about him, your once bright eyed little brother who always waited at the door for you, awaiting the moment you'll come home from your classes. Hugging your waist, and giving you a big grin each time, showing off his missing tooth. You'd ruffle his hair, and pinch at his cheeks, telling him that you'll have to greet ma, and pa first, then you can play together. Oh, how you've missed those times dearly. You feel as though you never treasured them enough, feels as though you should've taken each memory and put it in a chest, locked, and sealed away, till the day comes where you'd mourn them with bloodshot eyes, and trembling fingers. But till then, you have to be strong, be brave, be the person that your brother needs, you tell yourself that you owe him this..
And, oh, how Kylar loves the way you think..
His older sibling, his family, his angel..
You're the only good thing in this godforsaken world that he has left. He might not make it to heaven, but at least he has his own little slice of eden on earth. And it's all thanks to you, you, you, you. You're all he ever thinks about, your existence alone is what keeps him sane, what keeps him tied to this lonely realm. He doesn't know what he'll do without you, what wouldn't he do..?
You're so kind to him, so loving, so caring. He's convinced himself that you two are soulmates. The fact that you were born from the same womb proves that he's already shared half of his heart to you, and the whole of his soul. He's belonged to you, as much as you belonged to him. Forever, and ever, you two were fated to be together.
Kylar's a real nasty fuck, that, we all know. It's a universal fact none of us can deny, so knowing this he probably takes advantage of you, you and your sweet, loving, nature.
The horndog drugs your food probably, excusing the odd taste as him being an inexperienced cook. And you, as the most caring sibling in the world, believes him. You feel lightheaded as you do, you're halfway through your plate when you excuse yourself. Feeling bad that you couldn't even finish the food that your little brother's cooked for you. He on the other hand, doesn't seem offended at all. If anything, he encourages you to lie down, albeit on his bed. And so you do, he takes you to his room, and you have half a mind to make sense what's happening.
Kylar pushes you down on the bed, and you don't have the strength to fight him off. Closing your eyes almost as soon as your back hits the plush material of his mattress that he's layed there specifically for you.
Has a camera set at the side, filming himself defiling your body. And, this probably isn't the first time it'll happen, nor the last. At times the lil shit would spike your drink, and make you take his dick on whatever surface you land on. Sometimes he'll just plain out ask you if you could sleep together, you think he's just lonely, so you agree each time, and he uses that opportunity to fuck your thighs, sucking marks on your neck to quiet down his pathetic whimpers.
a/n: the endings kinda shitty, sorry, ran out of brain juice, and english also isn't my first language so lmk if I made any mistakes! You have a great day now, dollface..
–dolly
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mysterycitrus · 1 month
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your roy snippet was sooo good!! i love how you brought together his perspective on 17 yr/o dick both as an adult and as a father. when we’re older, we tend to be more aware of the true nature of the things we experience, especially when it comes to a traumatic event. we’re able to better understand when something that happened to us or a loved one was wrong, which only gets emphasized when someone becomes a parent. you convey that really well in the snippet, including the guilt that roy feels for not realizing that that’s what dick was experiencing at the time. can’t wait to read the full thing, and i hope you write more roy stories in the future!
there’s a kind of quiet, profound horror that stems from being an adult forced to retroactively understand all the terrible things u endured as a child…. so im glad i captured that for u!! the entire point of the fic is a depiction of dick grayson the person vs dick grayson the performance, and how he’s perceived by others. the idea of a thirty year old meeting a seventeen year old and seeing how he’s been hurt by adults because u have that insight now, etc
persephone was drafted as a mixed pov fic rather that being solely from dicks perspective — which is where the roy snippet came from — something im really glad i changed. his narration is unreliable because his views of the world are fundamentally flawed, something that the people around him are capable of recognising, but he is not. roy as an adult and can now reflect on past events with a new perspective. he’s a father, and his daughter is the same age as dick was when he lost his parents. he thinks about the vast network of people ready to die for lian, and the total absence of love and support dick had in the wake of his own grief. that’s horrifying.
we as the audience know what dicks like as an adult, and that he survived this grief and continued to survive worse, but seeing him this young and grappling with this much pain… u gotta be in his skull got that. contrasting dick’s understanding of what’s happening — that he fundamentally failed bruce and his parents, that he’s still unable to stand up for himself, that the robin name has been bastardised and used to kill children, that he’s inextricably tied to gotham, is debilitating. he is so, so ashamed of himself.
but he also doesn’t understand why no one else sees it that way. after their argument, wally leaves because he’s terrified of causing more harm and linda has to deescalate. they’re running interference on bruce to keep him away at all costs. getting even a peak into someone else’s head puts it into perspective — they’re all grieving for him, and they do not find him wanting.
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incorrectbatfam · 11 months
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What kinds of babies would the batkids be if Bruce adopted them from the start?
I did another ask here a while ago talking about what if the batfam were adopted as babies, which I’m using as a frame of reference. While it’s not totally accurate to their canon age differences, I kinda like how it worked out. 
Dick is mobile from the get-go. He crawls as soon as Bruce puts him down, tries to climb out of his crib, and is the reason the high chair has a seatbelt. Things only get worse when he learns to grab and stack things. Bruce walks in on him climbing a teetering tower of toys to reach the cereal box, and he just barely catches him before it topples over. Everyone thinks Jason is the reason for the child leash, but it’s actually Dick after he got lost at the museum. He’s the most outwardly affectionate of all the children, but his Terrible Twos are also the worst when he uses his limited vocabulary to argue with Bruce at every step. He’s also jealous when he’s no longer an only child and makes a big fuss at first before accepting it. 
Although Barbara has her own parents, the Waynes and the Gordons are very familiar with each other, both through Bruce and the Commissioner’s friendship and babysitting each other’s kids. Dick is more active, but Barbara learns to speak first and can even read the alphabet by the time they’re in daycare. Her parents try to limit screen time at home, but at the Manor, she learns to ask Alexa to play Little Einstein. Dick is also personally offended when he offers her his favorite candy and she goes blegh. 
Cass comes 3 years later, and she’s the baby you can’t let out of sight unless you feel like searching the whole house. She’ll hide anywhere, from under the bed to the trunk of the car. Selina suggests a cat bell, but Cass quickly learns to take it off. At first they think it’s because she’s shy, but it turns out she just prefers to watch people from a distance. Playing the Barbie ballerina music draws her out, though, because she loves twirling around. Cass learns sign language from her aunts Harley and Ivy first, and she makes up some of her own gestures to signal what she wants. Her hair was longer until Dick got peanut butter in it and they all agreed it’s easier to keep it short. 
Harper and Cullen are a year apart from each other, with Cullen being Cass’s age. They’re adopted at the same time, though, because it took a while for Bruce to prove that their bio father isn’t fit to be a parent. As a toddler, Harper is pretty independent, including dressing herself and using the bathroom. She likes to take things apart, so Bruce keeps expensive devices out of her reach—not that it works for long (see: Dick). She’s the most vocal baby and the first to learn “bad words” like poo-poo head. She’s the messiest though, often leaving things out and getting upset when people put her things away because she needs them. 
Cullen, on the other hand, is more shy from their previous household and takes some time to warm up to people. Bruce encourages him to ask for what he wants and always reassures him that there’s plenty to go around. The first person he grows close to is Cass, who takes him under her wing in a protective way. Together, they like to play pretend as mythical creatures or flip through picture books together despite not knowing how to read. He has a hard time falling asleep, so Bruce reads him stories until he does. On stormy nights, he goes to either Harper or Dick and will climb into their beds without warning. The first time that happened, Dick thought it was the monster from his closet and screamed so loud he woke everyone else up. Once Cullen learns how to use the remote, getting him away from the TV is a daily struggle. 
Jason is a year younger than Cass, and he’s a bit of a coin flip. Most days, he’s perfectly well-behaved and will quietly play by himself, especially with the pop-up books. Other days, he’ll throw the worst tantrums and break whatever he gets his hands on. He fights with Dick the most because at the time, he’s the youngest and can get away with more. Eventually, things even out a little and he fits perfectly into the fun-and-mischievous role, earning the affectionate title of Papa’s Little Nightmare, which he wears like a badge of pride whenever he licks people’s forks or sticks his finger up Bruce’s nose. He also likes to watch Alfred cook and his birthmark is his white streak. 
A full five years later is Tim, a quiet but observant baby who can learn fast by watching others. He picks up now to climb the banister from Dick, hide in tight spaces from Cass, how to use a hammer from Harper, what shows to watch from Cullen, and how to argue from Jason. He and Jason don’t get along at first because Jason felt like he was being replaced, but they eventually learn to coexist. Tim’s first toy to himself is a plastic camera that shows pictures of cartoon characters. He’s the kid that asks tons of questions, like why Bruce and Selina lock themselves in the bedroom. He also likes to explore and believes any unfamiliar creature is an alien. 
I know canonically Steph and Duke are a few years apart, but as babies I headcanon them as “twins” born on the same day to different parents and are two years younger than Tim because it’s cute and chaotic. Sometimes they share things, like their bedroom and toys. Other times, they get double, like two birthday cakes. At least once a week, they’ll try and confuse people by swapping clothes. Duke makes up stories and Steph scribbles out the scenes—sometimes she even does it on paper. If the house isn’t a mess before, then it definitely is with them when Bruce finds fruit gummies in the couch and shoes in the microwave. Instead of blankies and stuffed animals, Steph falls asleep clutching a box of toaster waffles and Duke with a bear-shaped honey bottle. Duke tells anti-jokes that he finds hilarious (“Knock knock” “Who’s there?” “Me!”) while Steph flat-out roasts people (“Dickie smells like icky”). They have concerts where Steph scream-sings while Duke bangs pots and pans. Steph prefers to be on Bruce’s shoulders while Duke clings to his leg. There’s a big Get Along shirt for when the siblings fight, but Steph and Duke just wear it for funsies. Because Tim sometimes gets overlooked, they follow him around like baby ducklings and think he’s the coolest sibling. 
Carrie, who’s two years after Steph and Duke, is the most imaginative baby and will loop people in as her side characters. Usually her roleplays involve being wilderness adventurers, after she watched Dora The Explorer. She likes to run around, often wearing a towel cape, and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty or play with things like bugs. She’ll only do baths if she can bring her snorkel and her many pool toys. In the car, no one wants to sit in front of her because she’s a seat-kicker. She’s easily wired even with just a little bit of sugar, so whenever another kid mad at Bruce, they’ll give her a whole bag of candy and set her loose. 
Damian is the last one and is three years younger than Carrie. He’s the smallest baby because he was born preterm, and Bruce is also worried because he rarely cries. But when he does, he won’t stop until he wears himself out. Carrie is the most protective of him and Tim thinks he’s secretly an alien (after seeing him hooked to machines in the hospital). Whenever Talia visits, he’ll systematically show her his toys, including his favorite stuffed cow. Besides Mama and Dada, his first words are animal sounds. He also likes art and will poke his head in whenever he sees his siblings drawing. If he senses someone having a bad day, he’ll sit outside their door and wait for them to come out. 
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sailoryooons · 11 months
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Break | ksj (m)
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☾ Pairing: Witch!Seokjin x cursed!reader
☾ Summary: Seokjin has been at your side for the last few years. He’s your closest friend, and the one person you don’t think you can live without. But what happens when you discover that he might be the source of the curse he’s been trying to help you escape from?
☾ Word Count: 18,990
☾ Genre: Supernatural, smut, angst
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Warnings: Death and implied accidental murder of a sibling, childhood trauma, creepy vibes, heavy angst, a lot of internal monologue featuring angst, physical and verbal abuse from members of the town toward reader, sometimes confusing mentions of magic systems, explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), rough fucking from behind, dom/sub dynamics if you rEALLY squint, subspace/blacking out post sex, unhappy and ambiguous ending!!!!!!
☾ Published: May 22, 2023
☾ A/N: Hi hello this is one of the most random things I’ve ever written. I made a last minute choice to nosedive into this fic at the last second, which was certainly a choice. While it’s not my favorite work because of how hard I struggle to write it, I have a feel people are going to like it regardless and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself about it. Once again, Hali writes way too much for a small project and doesn’t even dip into the lore the way she wanted to! Thank you to @here2bbtstrash who was the amazing beta on this and fixed easily over 200 errors that I made while rush typing this. I handed this over unedited and unread from myself and they put this through the wash to have it in tiptop shape! 
❀ A/N 2: M created their own Little Hut rhyme and I have opted to feature it here for reader’s enjoyment:
Little hut, little hut
Killer dick game
Little hut, little hut
All men is the same
Little hut, little hut,
Murdered your twin
Little hut, little hut
Time to fuck Jin 
❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Masterlist | Ask | A Spring Offering Collab
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Seokjin is good at holding grudges. Even as a child, his mother always said he had a tough time letting things go. He never knew how right she would be. His mother’s words are all he can think about as he storms through the dark of the forest, shadows whispering about him as he looks for the lone hut in the very dark of the woods. 
Little hut, little hut
Hidden in the wood
Little hut, little hut
Up to no good
If his parents could see him now, he knows they would be broken. Tear-streaked and shaking, a lost boy alone in the woods and drowning in anger so hot that the ground scorches beneath his feet. Looking for a salve. Looking for vengeance. 
Little hut, little hut
Alone in the gloom
Little hut, little hut
Silent as a tomb
Blood witches are dangerous. Seokjin knows this, everyone knows this. A blood witch is the reason why his parents are dead and he is storming through the darkness in the throes of madness. But Seokjin is only thirteen and full of pain and desperation, vowing to never let something happen like this again. If he has to use a devil to defeat a devil, he will. 
Little hut, little hut
Across the dark stream
Little hut, little hut
Wait for the scream
A dark stream wends its way through the trees. Seokjin gets a running start and jumps across the whispering waters. When he lands on the other side, he waits. It took a lot of searching to find someone to tell him how to find the witch in the woods. No one comes here, especially not in the dead of night on Beltane. 
They say only evil comes from the little hut in the woods. Seokjin knows now that it isn’t true. Evil comes from anywhere and everywhere, even from the people that one least expects. Evil killed his parents. Evil is why he is alone, crying on the edge of the stream, waiting for the sound of a banshee's call. 
He hears it then. A one-note wail, thin and high-pitched. His blood goes cold and the fight in him nearly goes out at the sound. His heart begins to pound so loud that it’s all he can hear, the thundering beat of panic and terror as he realizes what he’s about to do. 
“Little hut, little hut,” a voice that he cannot see calls to him. There is no hut that Seokjin can see. Only omnipresent darkness, cloying the air in front of him. A tingle skitters over his arms and he becomes acutely aware of another presence there with him in the dark. “I call to thee. Little hut, little hut, come to me.” 
Seokjin blinks rapidly a few times and sees the outline of a hut in front of him. It has a blurry shape like it’s really the idea of a house. It’s so shadowed and opaque that he’s not entirely sure if it’s really there. He walks toward it anyway, one foot in front of the other, looking at the hut. 
If a home could be a phantom, he thinks this is what the hut is. There is a vibrational pull here, a dull buzz in his veins as he gets closer and closer to where the blood witch lives. His stomach turns and his instincts beg him to leave. There is evil in this place. He knows it. Can feel its oily presence like a poisonous slick in his veins. 
A door - or rather what he imagines is a door shape - stands open in the hut. Inside is eternal darkness like Seokjin has never seen before. The buzzing in his veins has become stronger, an itch he can’t scratch. A ringing in his ears. 
Sometimes to beat evil, you must use evil. So Seokjin steps into the house despite all the reasons he should turn around and run. Because he is alone, he is in pain, and he needs some sort of penance. Justice. 
So he asks the blood witch for a favor. 
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life 
-
When the rock hits you right at the top of your spine, you know it isn’t an accident. All the same, you spin on your heel and look at the edge of the lake where the kids are skipping stones. They squeal and look away from you, huddled together as they giggle and look over their shoulders with frantic and excited faces. 
You clench your fists and keep going. What can you do to a group of kids? Tossing them into the lake while you’re an adult seems unfair, though it certainly crosses your mind. It isn’t necessarily their fault that they were taught to have such hate in their hearts at a young age, after all. 
So, you keep going, grinding your teeth as you march up the slope toward the main pathway that cuts through the park, gravel crunching beneath your feet as you quicken your strides to put distance between you and the cackling children. You’re not positive they won’t throw another rock at you, and you think that it might send you over the edge.
Early preparation for the Beltane festival is in full swing all over the park. There are trucks unloading carts and piecing together stalls, vendors and contractors with clipboards walking through spray painted grass with city officials, and a giant maypole waiting to be constructed. 
Living in a town of witchy folk can be fun, you suppose. The only downside is that most of the witches in your town despise you and think you’re an abhorrent blight to the earth. If killing and sacrifices hadn’t been outdated and frowned upon, you’re sure they would have stuck you to an altar as a child the first time you showed signs of being a leech. 
Leech. 
It’s an unkind thing to call witches who siphon magic. It isn’t something you can control - it isn’t even something you were born with. Most witches who siphon magic are born that way. A sort of magical defect in the way they interact naturally with the world. 
Most think of siphoners as a plague to the witch community. Thieves and monsters who can only feed on magic to make magic, a perversion of the natural balance of things. The way you look at it, witches who siphoned aren’t really any different from the natural order of the world. All living things need an energy source: food for animals, sun for plants, bacteria for amoebas. It isn’t different, really. 
Perhaps you would not be so kind to leeches, though, had you not began your existence as a siphoner at thirteen years old. 
It isn’t a night that you enjoy remembering, but it is certainly a night you can’t seem to forget. One moment you could command your magic like most other witches. Most, because you were a blood witch with raw talent and a powerful relationship with the earth’s energy. 
Blood witches were as revered as they were feared, witches who needed no spells. Who could use the magic within them instead of their connection with the earth to conjure. To blood witches, all other witches were leeches, really. You didn’t tell that to your coven, though you thought about the irony often. 
Your blood magic had vanished, though. It happened while you lay asleep in your bed, pressed up against your twin sister. Twins were a special thing in covens, a rarity in the magical order of the world that was seen as a good omen. There was a connection you shared with her deeper than the connection to your own magic, a bond that rooted the two of you together. That made you seek one another out for comfort. 
It had been storming that night and you had sought out the warmth of her bed and the vanilla sugar of her hair to soothe your nerves. You didn’t like storms and thunder very much, but she was wide awake in her bed, watching out the window as purple lighting cracked across the sky and thunder shook the house. 
You’d slipped into her bed without a word and she stood guardian over you, hand tucked in yours as she watched the sky light up. You remember her laying down next to you after the storm passed. The warmth of her breath on your cheek as she fell asleep. The hum between the two of you, soul recognizing soul.
She’d been dead by morning, magic siphoned and drained dry in the middle of the night. 
The memory of it is metallic in your mouth. You head toward your apartment, hands tucked into the pockets of your jeans, head down. Beltane always makes you think of your sister. Makes you think of the morning you woke up on your thirteenth Beltane to find her cold and dead, magical signature gone. Severed. Torn away from you. 
Losing your ability to generate magic was only second to losing your sister. You still feel adrift fifteen years later. Moving through the world with a piece of you missing. Two pieces of you, if you count the fact that you can feel the magic around you but not reach for it. You never reach for it, though you suspect that no one believes you.
Except maybe Seokjin. But even he doesn’t know the story of how you became what you are. All he knows is that you can’t create your own magic, and yet he’s never shamed you for it. Never turned his back on you, or berated you or bullied you. 
That sort of kindness is a rarity in your world.
Your small northeastern town is easy to navigate. There’s not much that happens that doesn’t immediately become the knowledge of all citizens, and there’s not really a way to get lost unless you’re a tourist coming to visit the country's spookiest and most magical town. The locals are pretty firm believers in magic, but the out of towners don’t really believe. They just want camp and kitsch. 
It’s busy season, the streets filled with people buying decorations to celebrate Beltane, restaurants full of tourists trying out local fare between going shop to shop. The festivals always draw a big crowd to your corner of the world, making it easier for you to blend in with all the rest of them. It almost makes you feel normal when someone doesn’t recognize you and immediately scowl. Sometimes you can even get away with eating at places that wouldn’t normally serve you, the workers too busy to really look at your face and see you. 
A few people have taken pity on you outside of Seokjin. Namjoon and Jimin would never turn you away, always welcoming you with open arms, a warm cup of tea and free books for as long as you like at their bookstore. You’re not technically allowed in the metaphysical store on Fourth, but as long as Yoongi is working, you can walk through the rows and rows of crystals, grimoires, spices and charms. Seokjin is where you’re really home, though, his bakery a place of safety and fresh-smelling sugar cookies. 
It’s where you go now, sticking to the shop windows and away from the tourists flowing all over Main Street like ants. There’s a line stretched out the door when you get to Magical Moon Bakery, and Jungkook looks helpless behind the counter as he nods while taking an order, wide-eyed and terrified. 
Seokjin is at the delivery counter, flour staining his cheek and brow as he nods politely and hands a box of cupcakes over to his customer. As though he can sense you, he lifts his head and swivels, eyes scanning until they land on you, immediately shining. Your stomach leaps the way it often does around him, especially when he breaks out into a beautiful smile and jerks his thumb at an apron.
You roll your eyes. You’re not technically an employee at the bakery, but you help often enough that you tease Seokjin sometimes that he should start paying you. You never mean it, of course. Your reward is his unearned and unlikely friendship, and the fact that his friends have taken you in even when other covens have turned their backs on you. 
Perhaps if he’d grown up here he’d hate you. It’s a thought you have often, even when you’re pulling the loop of a lavender apron over your head and tying it around your waist. You can’t imagine Seokjin ever hating you for no reason, but sometimes you wonder if he had the influence of the other kids of your town if it would be different. 
“Can you take over the order counter?” he asks, the blush on his face the only sign that he’s getting a little frazzled. You nod and he winks at you, leaning over to press a quick, chaste kiss on your cheek. “Worldwide best friend.”
“Mhmm,” is the only response you manage to string together, flustered by his proximity. 
It’s no secret that Seokjin is one of the best looking men in town. Even among witches, who are unnaturally beautiful to begin with, he stands out. Dark, silky hair swept back off of his forehead, dark eyes with a spark of caramel right around the pupil, lips full and lush like Aphrodite, and a face molded from the finest clay, glazed and perfected. 
Loving him isn’t hard. He’s as kind as he is beautiful, and Seokjin is silly. Able to make you laugh and draw you out of the melancholy that is permanently affixed on your person. It’s been that way since you met in your early twenties right after he moved to town, and you’re grateful for it. 
Even if loving him is pointless. He can never be yours - would never want to be yours in that way, anyway. 
So you settle for less. Settling for crumbs is what you’re good at. What people think you deserve, being the little leech that you are. 
No one you’re serving at the bakery knows you’re a leech, though. All they know is that they are eager to try the best baked goods in town, wondering at the menu as each item has a list of things it’s good for. Rose scones to make someone fall in love, marshmallow fluff cupcakes to soften the blow of bad news, gumdrop cakes to summon rain. 
Everything on the menu has a charm to it, both literally and figuratively. Seokjin is wildly creative in his carefully crafted menu, and he imbues magic in everything he makes from the eggs to the whipped frosting. 
Being here is nice. Jungkook grins when he sees you behind the counter, happy for the help. He still gets overwhelmed behind the till, and he’s more than happy to step back and chew his lip nervously when he processes a discount wrong. You’re up next to him before he can ask for help, typing on the screen while gently walking him through it again.
Jungkook is a good kid, an elemental witch who is prone to cause rainstorms when he gets stressed. For now, he is a bottle of sunshine, thanking you shyly and letting you know that he saved you a bag of butterscotch cookies in the back. 
“I put in a little extra sunshine,” he promises. By that, you know that he means magic. To give you. You open your mouth to scold him but he shakes his head furiously, long, wavy locks shaking. “I wanted to do it. Please don’t yell at me.”
That gets you. It’s hard to be mad at him, especially when anger is likely to set him off into a rainstorm. Jungkook’s round eyes are pleading and he pouts, a tactic you know he has learned from his boyfriend to use as a weapon. You think about sending Taehyung some choice text messages but instead, thank Jungkook for the cookies and continue to help him.
This is what keeps you going most days. The unfettered kindness that Seokjin and his friends show you. None of them are locals to town, but they had formed their own coven a little at a time, a circle under the broad umbrella of the town's overall witch population.
Covens are difficult. You’re both in and not in Seokjin’s coven, an unofficial member by friendship. But you don’t practice anymore - won’t let yourself - so you’re on the outside looking in most weekends and during spiritual times of the year. 
But by witch standard, you are a part of the covenstead of the town, the larger collective of witches who are loyal and responsible for one another, all answering to the high priestess. Who has begrudgingly let you stay as a member of the covenstead for the sheer fact that you’re her niece and nothing more. 
When the rush of customers and crinkling to-go bags slows, you lean against the counter and reach a hand out just as the door to the back swings open. Seokjin has a glass bottle of soda ready for you, and he blinks  in surprise when he sees your hand ready for it. You’re a little surprised as well. Though you have no magic on your own, you still sometimes predict things before they happen. Or at least, your instincts do.
“It’s freaky when the two of you do that,” Jungkook comments, eyes bouncing between you and Seokjin as the older hands you the bottle. “You’re always so in-tune.”
“She’s a witch,” Seokjin snorts, leaning against the glass case of mostly empty dishes as he takes a swig of his own. “Divination and all that is sort of what we do.” 
“Yeah, but it only happens with you.”
You don’t meet Seokjin’s eyes as you swig from the bottle, the carbonation fizzing on your tongue. “I can’t help it that I inspire magical abilities,” is Seokjin’s answer. Always deflecting. You're grateful for the way he rolls with the punches, easily accepting the way others talk about you two as an item so you don’t have to. “Plus, even witch-adjacents have the ability of foresight.” 
What he doesn’t say is that even in your dishonored position as a siphoner, you can get sensations and feelings. While you can sense magic and you’re still in tune with the world around you, Jungkook is right: you only have this sense of knowing with Seokjin, like there is a tiny string of fate connecting the two of you.
When it’s time to close down the shop, you help the two of them out. Seokjin goes to the back to begin batching things anew: fondant, bread, frosting - anything that he can let sit overnight or prep while the lights are out and he’s gone home. You focus on cleaning with Jungkook, letting him put on a pop playlist while he sings along, siren voice lulling you into a steady rhythm. 
Part of you wants to ask what they’re doing for Beltane. Celebrating the holidays use to be your favorite, threading flowers through your hair, blessing your hearth and home, weaving new spells of prosperity and happiness alongside your sister. Now you don’t participate in any of the rituals with the others. 
Most of the time, you celebrate alone in your room. Mark the points of the elements and the compass on your bedroom floor alone. Sit in front of a single candle, watching the flame flicker as you draw your circle of salt, murmuring blessings. It isn’t a powerful place of practice and you have no alter to command, but it's something. It’s yours. 
Instead of asking, you follow Seokjin and Jungkook out of the door on the promise of dinner. It is the one thing that does feel like a ritual you’re allowed to participate in, holding chapel at Seokjin’s dining room table and elbowing with Jimin and Taheyung to reach for the food piled high. 
Evening sky stretches overhead as you walk between Seokjin and Jungkook. You cast your eyes upward, watching the gray clouds float by. Seokjin throws an arm around you, pulling you in close and squeezing you to his side. He smells like vanilla and sweet orange from making his tangerina vanilla cakes for Yoongi. You breathe in his scent, letting it wash through you like a balm. 
His arm presses a little too hard on the bruise where the rock from earlier nailed you, and you hiss, reaching behind your head automatically to adjust his hold on you. 
“What?” he asks, lifting his arm and slowing his gait. Seokjin’s face is picture-perfect concern, mouth tilted downward, a crease in his brows. Before you can explain, his hands are pulling at the collar of your shirt. “You’ve got a welt here, what the hell is that?”
You smack at his hands and step away from him, pulling his warm fingers from your shirt. “It’s nothing.”
“Whenever you say ‘it’s nothing’ it's always something. Why do you have a lump on the top of your spine?”
Dancing away from him, you grab Jungkook who grunts, mouth full of corn chips as you shove him between you and Seokjin. More unhappy noises come from the youngest as Seokjin grabs for you but you squeak and use Jungkook’s broad body to block him again. 
“Yah!” Seokjin yells, reaching both arms around either side of Jungkook to grab you. He manages to get one of your arms, pulling you toward him - and by default, Jungkook - and keeps a firm grip while you swat and fight back. 
“Nooo!” Jungkook howls between the two of you, adding to the chaos as he shoves both of you away from him. “Stop using me as a battering ram! I’m going to drop my chips! Guys!” 
“Tell me why you have a wound!”
“It isn’t a wound!”
“It’s a type of wound!”
“Ugh let my arm go, hulk!”
“Stop hissing at me like a rat!”
Jungkook drops his bag of chips and lets out a long, forlorn wail. “My chiiiiiiiiips!” 
After a struggle, you manage to shake Seokjin off of you, taking a few steps back as you huff angrily, fists at your side. Seokjin sidesteps Jungkook who is pouting and looking at the ground, wavy bangs falling in his eyes as he stares at the spilled corn chips. Seokjin makes it worse by stepping on them, earning a shriek from Jungkook that goes ignored.
“Did someone hurt you?”
A rumble rolls through the sky from up above. You cast your gaze upward, looking at the clouds that are a little more swollen than they were a few minutes ago. You can sense the static in the air, a promise of lightning if you don’t diffuse Seokjin’s anger quickly. 
Similar to Jungkook, Seokjin is sensitive to the elements. Where Jungkook has an affinity for the sky and the rain, Seokjin has a lot more skill with fire. Still, Seokjin is a powerful witch and his rage on more than one occasion has disturbed the sky and the lake in the middle of town. 
It’s partly the reason he works so hard on never getting angry. 
“It’s nothing, Jin,” you answer softly, eyes pleading. You desperately want him to drop it. Part of you is honored that he cares, but the other half of you can’t bear the way he looks at you. “Please drop it.”
“Someone hurt you. Again.”
Thunder echoes across the sky. Jungkook looks upward. “That isn’t me, even though I am mad about my chips.”
“Jin, it isn’t a big deal. Please.” You glance upward, thunder rolling again. “You’re going to make it rain.”
“I’ll make it do more than that when I find out who did it.”
“They were just kids, Jin. You can’t-”
He swears loudly and there’s a flash of lightning above your head. It makes you think of that night with your sister, laying in bed to let the storm pass. You clap your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut, automatically crouching to make yourself small. 
Behind your shut eyes, you try not to let the memories come. Try not to imagine the vanilla scent of her hair, warm hands on your skin turned cold the next morning. You block out the screams, the way your mother shoved you away and your father yelled and yelled and yelled.
Above, the thunder stops. The rain doesn’t fall, and the air pressure returns to normal. Shivering, you crack an eye open to look at Seokjin, terrified at what you might find. His anger is so rare but flips on a dime, catching you off guard any time it happens. 
Jungkook is murmuring in Seokjin’s ear now, voice hushed and urgent. Seokjin’s eyes become unfocused as he nods, Jungkook’s hands grasping the older’s biceps firmly. When Seokjn’s eyes find yours over Jungkook’s shoulder, they’re fathomless. Endless pools of black and something else that you can’t decipher as he murmurs something back to Jungkook, who steps away.
Licking his lips, Seokjin offers you a hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.” 
You swallow thickly. Reach out a tentative hand. “It’s okay.”
“You know I would never hurt you?”
Of course you know that. You aren’t afraid of Seokjin or the power he holds. You aren’t afraid of what he can do. You are afraid of the memories that nip at your heels like a pack of jackals, waiting for you to grow weak and fall before they attack. You are afraid of the way that it makes you feel when he cares about you. 
“I know that,” you murmur, letting him pull you to your feet. “It’s just the thunder, that's all.”
His smile is soft. “I know, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hand. It’s a perfect fit, your palm in his. His skin buzzes with magic and you’re careful not to take any, always keeping your guard up so that you can never siphon again. “Let’s go home, yeah?”
-
Home isn’t the small apartment on the west side of town that you keep by yourself. Home is Seokjin’s two-story house in the suburbs made of brick and mortar. It’s the crowded dining room with eight chairs pulled close to the wooden table and a chandelier full of burner candles and incense. It’s Seokjion’s cat familiar running yowling down the corridor as Yoongi’s maine coon chases it, hissing. 
Home is seven witches who don’t care that you can’t generate your own magic, all of them laughing and pushing empty plates toward the middle of the table where Namjoon collects them with a snap of his fingers, the cutlery lifting and stacking neatly with the soft click of ceramic. 
Bloated and overly satiated, you lean back in your chair, sighing heavily. Yoongi is next to you, quiet and staring off into space the way that he often does. Next to him, Jimin and Namjoon have their heads bowed together whispering, a blush flushing across Namjoon’s wine-glazed expression and tops of his ears. 
Namjoon and Jimin strike something in you. A longing that tugs at your heart strings, drawing your gaze to the man sitting on the other side of you. Seokjin is leaning back in his chair, arm stretched over the back of your seat as he yawns mid-conversation with Hoseok. 
Seokjin is barely touching you, but just the warmth of his arm is enough to make you dizzy. It’s barely there, just against the top of your back. You lean into him a little, resting your head on top of his arm. He maneuvers his hand to scratch the top of your head lightly. It feels so nice that your eyes flutter shut, letting him play with your hair as the noise in the room drifts to a dull buzz. 
In another life, you think that this touch could be something more. Sometimes, you let yourself wonder if it is. Let yourself pretend that maybe Seokjin’s lingering gaze and lingering hand is more than the platonic affection he has for you. 
It’s a silly dream. 
When the dishes are washed and the others have said their goodbyes, it’s just you and Seokjin leaning against the counter in the kitchen. He has a glass of wine, sipping it thoughtfully as you put the cork back in the wine bottle. When you meet his gaze, you see something there. Hesitance. Anxiety. 
Seokjin chews on his lips and swishes the wine in his glass. The red arches elegantly along the sides of the glass, slowly dripping back down to pool in his cup. You remember once at a winery you could measure the legs or something when swishing wine in a glass to learn some small factoid about the wine, but it’s far from your memory now.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, taking a sip of your own. It’s a strong mulled wine with notes of cherry, you think. “You look nervous.”
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” 
Your heart beats hard once. Then twice. Speeds up. Instead of answering right away, you take a sip of your wine, mind running through all of the things you think he might say. Maybe this is it, he’s going to tell you that you can’t come around as much. That though you’re his best friend, you have to stay away from his coven. 
Instead, Seokjin says, “You know I’ve looked into your situation.” You wince when he says it but he pushes forward, leaning off the counter as he grows eager. “You said you weren’t always a siphon, that you could control your own magic as a child. I’ve been researching similar cases, and there is a lot of evidence that supports that it might be a magical block.”
“Jin.”
“Look, I’m happy with the way you are. There’s nothing wrong with you. But I know that you aren’t happy with it.” His jaw flexes. “And I care about your happiness. I just… Yoongi and I have been reading up on rituals to release magical blocks, and with Beltane in a few days, we thought…”
Warmth bubbles in your chest. You know how much this means to him, trying to help you. To free you from the burden that you carry with you wherever you go. This is not the first time he has brought up trying to figure out your ailment. Your situation. And though you’re glad he cares about you enough to try, there is something humiliating about it. 
“You don’t have to decide tonight,” Seokjin murmurs. You look up at him and his gaze is soft. Vulnerable. “But if you want us to try, we discussed it. And our circle is strong enough to try it on Beltane.”
Licking your lips, you nod once. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“I’m always thinking of you.” You give him a look and he smiles, a little sad. “What? I am.” 
“Stop trying to be charming. I’ll only say yes if I want to.”
“I have no doubt about that. However, it is impossible for me to stop my charm. It is a natural gift.”
You roll your eyes. “Along with your insufferable humor.”
“There is nothing insufferable about me. Especially with Yoongi around.” 
You don’t push the argument. Seokjin grins again before opening a drawer in his kitchen, pulling out a small, cloth bag. There’s a green ribbon tying the top of it shut, and you smell the herbs inside of it immediately: cedar, bay leaves, mugwort. 
Seokjin holds the bag out to you and you frown, taking it. It’s weighted with crystals. You squeeze the bag a little, feeling the crunch of crystal fragments and herbs. There is a vibration that travels from your fingers up your arms and you feel a sense of solid warmth.
“A protection bag,” you deadpan. “Really?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t need this.”
“The welt on your neck says otherwise.”
“Please stop!” Your voice is loud in the empty kitchen. He pulls up short, leaning against the counter and watching you with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. You sigh deeply and close your eyes for a moment, calming yourself before you open them and say, “I don’t mean to yell, it’s just - it’s hard when I feel like all of you coddle me. It’s humiliating.” 
“It wasn’t my intention. I’d never want to make you feel that way.”
“I know.”
You do know. The intentions are good, but you can’t help the raw, venomous edge of frustration. It makes you feel less than, this constant need to help you. To do things for you. 
“I don’t want to be a problem that everyone feels like they need to solve. There’s more to me than being the covenstead’s leech.”
“You know that isn’t how we think of you.”
You give a frustrated noise. “Then please. Let me ask for help when I need it.” 
Seokjin is quick to catch the protection bag when you toss it back to him. He nods silently, eyes fixated on the floor. It feels like a hot stone has been dropped in your stomach, burning and weighing you down. How quickly a good dinner has turned sour, how the light air between the two of you has gone cold. 
“Thank you for dinner. And for looking into a way out of this,” you gesture wildly to yourself. He nods, but there’s no mirth in his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah of course. Let me know about… you know.” 
“Yeah. Yeah.”
That night, you have trouble sleeping, just like that night when you were thirteen years old. 
-
The back door to Shadow Metaphysical opens, creaking as Yoongi sticks his head out. His long hair is styled behind his ears and he’s in a soft-looking black sweater and jeans. He smiles when he sees you, gentle and kind as he opens the door a little wider, beckoning with his head to enter. 
Slipping through the back door, you enter a dark office. It’s only lit by candles spread over various shelves and desks, and a few hovering candles near the ceiling. It’s warm and cozy, and you spot Yoongi’s familiar napping on the chair pulled up to the desk where a computer shows some sort of accounting system. 
Yoongi leads you to the front of the store. It’s closed for the evening and he has receipts and cash laid out on the counter as he balances his drawer for the day. The shop has tall ceilings and is lined with rows and rows of dark shelving. The lighting here is not powered by candles or magic, but rather golden cafe lighting strung on the ceiling.
Shadow Metaphysical is one of your favorite places. It smells different each time you go in, the magic and the herbs and the spells inside of its four walls shifting with the energy of its employees and customers at all times. Today, it smells like night rain and crackling lightning. 
Wordlessly, Yoongi gestures at the shelving, signaling to do whatever you need. He busies himself with going back to counting bills, head down and trusting you not to steal anything. Not that he would care, as he’s always emphasized he has no problem not taking your money.
Still, you always pay him, especially since he lets you in after hours where no one can yell at you for being inside. The covenstead has barred magical stores from siphoners, convinced that they would cross the threshold and drain the shops of magic. 
It isn’t true, though you can feel the ebb and flow of open magic sources around you. You’re not here for magical purposes, specifically. There are things you can buy yourself and keep in your apartment to ground you to the earth, and there are still rituals and practices that you keep up with, even as your connection is severed.
As you pass rows and rows of books on rituals, you think about Seokjin’s offer to help you figure out your block. It wouldn’t be the first time you tried and failed to figure out what happened. With magic, the point of origin is always the key to any spell. The how and the where of your condition are important elements to figuring out the solution, but no one really knows the how and the where. 
Your friends don’t have full clarity on that night. You’ve never told them in explicit detail of how you woke up, full of your sister’s magic. The town calls you a kin killer and a leech, so you’re sure they know enough to know the source of your hesitation is violent and personal. 
Still, you slow as you pass a grimoire. The runes on it shine gold when you pause, winking at you, begging you to touch it. You feel the whisper of the spells of dozens of witches inside of it, their phantom fingers brushing down your arms. Your spine. You shiver and look away from the book, pressing on to the herbs section.
It would be nice not to feel the lure of power. Not to feel the itch and the cunning voices of magic begging you to use them use them use them use them-
“Stop,” you growl out loud. You don’t know who you’re talking to - yourself, the magic in the store, the universe. Taking a deep breath, you gather your wits and complete your shopping, moving with a robotic pace around the store to get what you need.
At the register, Yoongi gives you a wary look as you set things down on the counter. He takes his time scanning them, glancing at you occasionally. You can sense he wants to ask a question, dark eyes lingering a few times. That’s the thing about Yoongi, though. He’ll never ask, he’ll just wait until you give up.
Which you do, sighing and saying, “Ask.”
His lips twitch as he bags a few jars of thorns. “How often do the books in here talk to you?” You level a stare at him and he rolls his eyes. “I can hear you. And every time you’re in here, it’s like they all turn to look at you. Is it often?”
“Yeah,” you admit. “Since it happened, there’s always been a pull or like magical objects to taunt me.” You chew your lip and rub your sweaty palms on your jeans. “It’s worse around the sabbat holidays.”
“Stronger magic.”
“Yeah.”
“Did Jin explain what ritual we talked about?” You shake your head. He pushes over a paper bag filled with all your things and you hand over your card. As he swipes it, Yoongi explains. “Two smaller rituals wrapped into one. Namjoon found a really old binding ritual that was used to form a bridge between multiple rituals.”
“So like when you chain spells together,” you offer. “Impressive. I guess that would be used for improving upon old rituals?”
“Yeah, exactly that. Seokjin had been doing some research on magical blocks and shit, and found one that locates a point of origin of the block whether it’s internal or external.” 
“External?” He nods. “Like a curse?”
“Yes. Any reason anyone would want to curse a thirteen-year-old?” 
Yoongi phrases it like a joke and chuckles. But you don’t laugh, stilling as you think about his question. Your immediate answer is no, at thirteen there was certainly nothing you could have done to be cursed. But you think about your parents, thinking about the fear revolving around their gifts for blood magic, think about the way they were always regarded with equal parts fear and reverence as coven leaders.
Curses aren’t common. It would take a coven of extremely skilled witches to curse someone, but it could take a single very skilled blood witch to toss one. Hexes aren’t long-term and are far more manageable, but you think about the way your power vanished, the way you bled your sister dry. 
The misery you’ve faced since, the loss of your parents shortly after, the hatred from the covenstead. 
“Holy shit, you don’t think you’re cursed, do you?” Yoongi’s question brings you out of your daze. All of the amusement has been wiped clean from his expression, eyes deadly serious. “Who would curse a child?”
“People were really afraid of my parents,” you admit. “My mom used to lead the covenstead here, you know?” That surprises him and you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, before my aunt. She isn’t a blood witch. My mom was and led the covenstead until um - my sister died.”
“I never knew that. No one talks about it.”
There is a question there. Yoongi won’t say it outright, but you sense the curiosity nonetheless. You feel your throat constrict a little as you murmur, “She stepped aside when my sister died. It was more political than anything, but no one talks about it out of respect for my aunt.”
“But still, to curse a child?”
“There was…” You think back to the time when you were thirteen. Those days are painted so painfully when you think about them that it is hard to remember anything else. “My parents were involved in the Trials that were going on at that time. Hunting Dissenters.”
Yoongi’s face darkens. “I see.”
“They had a lot of enemies. So maybe… I don’t know.”
For a few moments, Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He busies himself with packing away the rest of the till and waving his hand, dousing all the lights in the store with ease. There’s a little pang as he does it, such simple magic that costs him nothing. That you have no access to.
“Well,” Yoongi sighs, a little awkwardly. “Think about it. If - and it’s unlikely - that someone cursed you, you’ll know if we go through with the ritual.” He pauses and levels you with a look. “It is dangerous though. So consider the risk before you agree, hmm?”
You nod and thank him. He leads you out of the store and gives you an awkward smile goodbye. Never affectionate, but always polite and warm nonetheless. 
Sunset-purple skies stretch above you. It smells like fresh rain and earth outside. Town is quieter now that the evening crowd has finished dinner and gone home or back to their accommodations for the evening. You pass places with patio seating and small diners tucked between stores, wary eyes of the workers following you as you walk down the sidewalk. 
No one says good evening. Some don’t look at you at all. 
Curse. 
The word weighs heavy on you. You’d never considered that your condition could be from a curse before, but now that you think about it, you can’t stop the thoughts racing through your mind. 
The Trials had been a scary time for witches, Dissenters leaving covensteads to start their own, dark and forbidden spellwork becoming more and more popular among covens. Your parents - especially your mother and her sister - had been a huge part of cleansing the covenstead from witches who practice dark magic.
Especially the few blood witches. 
You had been a blood witch, though. Like your sister, like your mother. People had always been wary of them, which is why your mother worked so hard to get rid of the Dissenters when she was the head priestess. 
They give us a bad name, she would say darkly when you and your sister asked why she was getting rid of witches like you. Like her. In times like this, we have to work extra hard to prove we aren’t evil. 
And then you bled your sister dry. Drained her magic until she couldn’t fight you back and you woke up to that feeling of her cold hands on your overwhelmed skin. Your mother had never really looked at you the same after that, stepping down as the high priestess immediately. 
You suspect she protected you in the only way she could. Disallowing you to use magic of any sort, placing hard restrictions on how you could live, outlawing you from spaces where you had grown up. It was better than death. 
At least, you used to think so. 
Yoongi’s words weigh heavy on you as you sit in your apartment alone. You don’t bother to put the TV on, knowing that you won’t be able to pay attention to anything. Magic always comes at a price, and two rituals wrapped into one is going to take a toll. 
And yet, you think about getting to the bottom of this sickness, this curse. This inability to do anything but steal magic, to leech off of others. You think about how your magic used to feel, the way you could command fire with a snap of your fingers or make stars fall from your bedroom ceiling. 
An ache settles in your chest as you lay back on the couch and close your eyes, throat tight and eyes burning. You have been without magic for so long. Part of you thinks what's a little longer? But deep down, you crave it. The spark, the life, the touch of magic. 
You want to be able to enter stores without the itch underneath your skin, an addiction you can’t cure nor divulge in. You want to be able to be a part of a community again, to do rituals with Yoongi and Jungkook and Seokjin. You want to be able to help him in his bakery, imbuing his scones and cupcakes with love and a little spark of something extra. 
Tears flow hot on your face. You know what you want, and you know that it’s going to cost you to get it. You know that to do this, you’ll have to be open and honest, because there are only two possible options for your magic block: you are cursed or you have a mental block. 
It’s hard to know if being cursed as a result of your parents’ policing is worse than potentially having an internal block, an innate refusal to do magic because of what you did. 
That night sits at the back of your mind like a stone, sinking sinking sinking. Pulling you under as you think about it in explicit detail. Maybe you simply killed your twin. A horrible accident, but perhaps it was just you. Your magic. Your fault. 
And your magic had fled because of it, a self-inflicted punishment. 
Before you’re aware of what you’re doing, you have the phone in your hand, sniffing and wiping your tears with the back of your hand. Your face feels swollen and sticky with tears and overwarm and it’s hard to get a breath as you press the phone to your ear, listening to the ringing.
Seokjin picks up on the fourth ring, his voice cheery. “What, did Yoongi forget to let you in the store?”
“No.”
“I’m coming now,” Seokjin says, completely forgoing humor when he hears you sniff, hears the waver in your voice. “Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“Did anyone hurt you?”
“No,” you hiccup. “I’m just really sad and I don’t want to be alone.”
“I’ll be there in ten. Do you want to stay on the phone?” You shake your head and let out a little sob. Something about knowing he’s coming over to be with you cracks your resolve a little more. You realize he can’t see you when he prompts, “Hey, you there?”
“Sorry, no. Drive safely, please.”
“For you? Anything.”
Despite your tears, your mouth wobbles into a weak smile at that. It makes your heart squeeze just a little, underneath all the hurt. 
It doesn’t take him long to let himself in the apartment. You can sense him before he even gets to the stairs leading up to your unit, his crackling energy like a beacon to you. When he opens the door with the key you gave him, he fills the space with static, magic snapping and tinged with worry. 
Magic always belies how Seokjin feels. Like now, as he rushes across the apartment, he is lightning, all energy and anxiety popping and snapping as he sits on the couch next to you, pulling you into his chest. 
Seokjin is warm and smells like vanilla and sweet orange from the bakery. It’s soothing. You close your eyes and clutch the hem of his shirt, resolve cracking the rest of the way as he becomes your anchor as you drift out to sea, holding you so that you can be lost in the overwhelming feeling of loss without getting too far. 
He doesn’t tell you not to cry. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. Seokjin leans back on the couch, pulling you into his lap, holding your knees so that he can hold you. One hand rubs your back and he rests his chin on the top of your head, leading you to use the crook of his neck as a place to hide - and turn into a waterfall for your tears. 
This is what you love about Seokjin though. He doesn’t pry. He just lets you use him, lets you cry it out and he waits. 
When the tears begin to dry and you find it easier to breathe again, you shift away from Seokjin and wipe your face. He smiles down at you, eyes glittering and expression so fond that you find yourself staring blankly into his face.
“I’m sorry,” you sniff. “And thank you for coming.”
“Anything for you.” You hate the way it makes your heart flip when he says that. You start to pull away from him to sit on the couch properly but his arms constrict you, keeping you to him. You frown but he asks, “I want to know what happened, if you’re ready to talk about it.”
Seokjin is so close his breath fans your face. You look up at him. Silky, long lashes that you could individually count with your proximity, beautiful tan and smooth skin with a glow all witches have, strong brows that you always thought made Seokjin’s face the perfect balance of boyish and beautiful. 
Your heart starts to speed up and your mouth dries out with the way he looks at you, intense and searching. Suddenly you’re afraid if he looks too hard, he’ll see down to your core. 
“I- yeah. I need some water,” you croak, pulling away. He lets you go this time, unaware that what you really need is space between the two of you, a barrier so he can’t see. So he won’t know. “Turns out sobbing makes you thirsty.” 
Before you can get all the way to the kitchen, there’s a soft clink accompanied by a full glass of water on your counter. You glare at Seokjin over your shoulder and he winces and shrugs in apology. 
As you gulp down mouthfuls of cool water, you wonder how to word exactly what you’re upset about. How you’re tired of existing in the world without your magic but you’re also unsure if you want to know the truth about why your magic left you. 
Seokjin is iffy on the details about the night your sister died. He’s never asked you explicitly for the story before, but if you want to go through with finding out the root cause of your block, you know you’ll be exposed. To him. To all of them. To his coven.
The desire to be one of them is so strong that it makes your knees weak as you walk toward the couch. You sit abruptly on the couch arm, staring into the distance as you drink the rest of the water. You want to join them so much, to celebrate the sabbat holidays, to feel the rush of a closed circle of magic and yet…
Would they accept you if they knew you killed your sister? You’re not so sure. 
You look at Seokjin. He waits patiently, watching you with soft eyes. Moonlight seeps in through the blinds behind him, wreathing him in silver light. He looks like a god, then. Of shadows, of night, of mystery. This best friend of yours who you love so much and who has loved you indiscriminately when he didn’t have to. 
“I talked to Yoongi about maybe doing the ritual,” you start slowly. Seokjin nods, encouraging you. “And I think I came to the conclusion that I want to do it. I’m tired of feeling everyone’s magic pull at me, like a vice that I have to ignore every day. And I’m tired of wanting to do things I used to, to feel the world around me. But most of all, I just want to be a part of something. A part of a coven, a family.”
Understanding paints Seokjin’s face. He reaches a hand out and takes yours, giving you a firm squeeze. “You know even with no magic, you’re our family, right?”
“It’s different.” He starts to protest but you shake your head. “I want to be in a coven and to feel the power of a circle. I want to celebrate and do rituals with you, I want to be a part of something magical. I can’t do that like this, not without the fear of draining everyone.”
He nods. “Of course. We’ll have you either way, you know? We’d still welcome you like this.”
“But I’d never be able to close your circle.” Seokjin nods. He knows the truth of this. “But this ritual requires truth, and there’s some things about me that I’ve never talked to you about. Things about the night I… I could no longer do magic. I want you to be informed, to know what we might find if we do this.”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
“A coven and a working circle requires trust and honesty. I can never be one of you if you don’t know me completely.” 
He nods. “That is true.” 
“I’m going to tell you about the night that my sister died.” He squeezes your hand and nods, but says nothing else. “My sister and I were twins, both blood witches. Unusual enough for our parents and the covenstead to be incredibly proud of us, but not unusual enough for people to be afraid, you know?”
“Twins… That’s incredibly powerful.”
“Yeah,” you agree, throat tight. “We were really fond of the connection too, you know? It was nice to always have someone to rely on who was my perfect balance. We were never-” You take a breath. “Neither was more powerful than the other. There was never any jealousy or overpowering the other. We were always evenly matched.” 
“Whenever it would storm,” you continue. “I would go lay in her room. I hated storms but she loved them. I did this countless times up until we were thirteen. I don’t know… Jin, I don’t know what was different that night. I think back to it every single day, what did I do differently, was there an object I touched, a spell I used? And I come up with nothing. But on Beltane when we were thirteen, it was storming. We’d already finished the festival and our parents were out doing their duties and I went and I fell asleep in her room and… and I woke up…”
For a moment, you can’t get the words out. They get trapped in your throat and you stare, unseeing. You imagine the lightning against the window. The warmth of your sister's hands. The tree tap tap tapping against the window with the strength of the wind.
“I drained her in the middle of the night,” you whisper. It’s out now and you can’t stop, can’t look at Seokjin’s face to see his reaction. “I went to sleep as normal and when I woke up, she was freezing and lifeless and I felt more powerful than I ever had before. Like I was this magical battery charged up and sparking.” 
For a moment, you pause and look at Seokjin. You expect to see horror or disgust or a variety of negative emotions, but he’s still watching you. Fond. Waiting. No judgment. When he sees you staring, he gives you a tiny smile and a squeeze of your hand. 
“I’m still listening.” 
“Aren’t you…” You trail off and shake your head. “I killed my sister. Are you not horrified?”
He frowns then. “You didn’t kill your sister.”
“Yes I did.”
“You weren’t born a siphoner, how could you possibly predict that would ever happen? You didn’t get in that bed with her and then leech her magic, no matter how much it must feel that way. It wasn’t your fault, though I know hearing me say that doesn’t make it feel any less true in here.” He reaches forward and taps your heart lightly. “There is nothing I can say to ease the pain and guilt of that, but what you’re describing to me isn’t the tale of a murderer. It’s the story of someone who had a freak accident, which is more common among the magical community than one might think.”
“I don’t know what happened,” you admit, a tear escaping your eye. Before you can wipe it though, Seokjin’s thumb is there, swiping across your face and collecting it. You watch with wide eyes as he cups your face, looking at you with so much something that your head spins. “But in the morning, I was alive and she was dead. And my parents and everyone else hated me for it. That’s why they treat me the way they do. That’s why my mother stepped down as high priestess, why my parents were driven to grief. Why I’m alone.”
“You’re not alone. Not anymore.” 
“How can anyone accept me like this?”
“Because it isn’t what defines you. We are not made up of only the things we do and the things that happen to us, and I promise you, this is something that happened to you.” 
“But why? Why me?”
“I don’t know,” Seokjin admits. “But we’re going to find out, okay? 
“What if the others don’t want me?” 
“They would never,” he’s quick to say. He’s still holding your face, wiping tears from your eyes. “And if they did, I don’t care. I’d do the ritual myself, just to prove to you that this burden you carry isn’t your fault.” 
You crack a grin, despite the dark topic. “Yeah? You’d try and do a circle for you?”
“I would walk through fire for you.”
You pull your face out of his hands and shove him a bit. “Fire is your favorite element, Jin. That’s not impressive.”
His laughter fills the room and he tugs at your hands. You grapple with him as he tries to pull you down, your ache forgotten as you laugh and squeal. “Yah! Let me try and be poetic! It was the first thing that I could think of.”
“You’re a witch, you’re practically impervious.” 
Seokjin overpowers you and pulls you down against his chest. Suddenly you’re very close again, your palms pressed against his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat vibrating through your fingers. You make a surprised sound as he looks up at you, gaze a little darker. A little hazy. 
Gently, Seokjin reaches up and brushes his fingers across your chin. It’s featherlight and more intimate than you expect, making you blink in surprise. You’re frozen, limbs stuck and heart racing as you watch the corner of his mouth twitch upward. Suddenly the moment feels different - this feels different. 
“Not impervious to you though.”
When he says it, you don’t answer at first. You think you imagine him saying it. That suddenly this has blurred into a fantasy of yours. Perhaps you’re actually asleep, soothing your pain with dreams of Seokjin. Of being like this with him, pressed closed and intimate with his gaze burning. 
“What?” you whisper back, unable to string together a better response.
He doesn’t seem offended though, huffing a laugh. “Fire might not get to me,” he says. “You certainly did, though.”
“I don’t…”
“We’re practicing honesty because you’re right. If we’re going to lift this block on you and let you join our circle, there can’t be secrets between us. There’s so much to tell you, but I need you to know before we do this how I feel.”
“How you feel?”
“Yes. As the leader of our circle, it’s my duty to be honest with you and to give you an out. I don’t want you to cast our first circle and suddenly be able to see - feel - how I feel and then there’s no way out.”
“I don’t understand.” 
“I’d walk through fire for you - hey, stop laughing at me! Because you are an amazing person. But I would also do it because I have fallen head over heels for you. Chaotically so. Painfully so.” 
This is a dream. It has to be, because there is no way that Seokjin is lying under you, face so close to yours, hands gripping your forearms, and staring at you like that, gaze dreamy, smile on his face. 
“It’s not a dream,” he laughs, making you realize you’ve said it out loud. “Or perhaps it is a dream and I am once again imagining that I am the hero to your tale, a knight saving you because he likes you and you will let me because you like me. But that would be a silly dream, because you have always been the bravest person I know and you have always refused to be saved.” 
“You like me?”
“I do. And it’s okay if you don’t like me back. But I wanted you to know before you step into a circle with us. The others know - can see it light up inside of me every time we cast. But I didn’t want to surprise you with that. Not with this, not when it’s about you. It would have been cruel.”
Seokjin could never be cruel. The word cruel doesn’t even exist in the same plane of existence as this man. This witch who has never done anything but ask if you need help. Who simply enjoys baking things for the community and its visitors, filling every good with magic. A little extra something to make their lives more manageable, more fruitful. 
This man, who would have you even as you are in his coven of witches. Even if a circle couldn’t be drawn and salted correctly. Even if they have no use for you. This friend, who has heard what you’ve done - or didn’t do - and looks at you all the same. Doesn’t see a monster or someone terrible, doesn’t see someone capable of murder. 
The very thought of Seokjin loving you even as you are is enough to send a shiver through you. 
“You know why I thought I was dreaming, right?” you ask him. Seokjin shakes his head, watching your every move. “Because I have dreamed of you saying that often. It was always a comfort to me when I was sad or my longing to have you was intense. I just thought I never could. Wasn’t worthy of it, wasn’t-”
Seokjin moves faster than you can finish your sentence. He surges forward, hands skimming up your arms roughly to cup your face and pull you down to him. He presses his lips firmly to yours and anything you were going to say vanishes, thoughts a wisp of smoke. 
Sparks fly quite literally. Seokjin’s magic crackles and you resist to pull it in and consume it, too distracted by the soft feel of his lips. It’s just an innocent press of mouths at first, making your head spin as you realize you’re kissing Seokjin. 
Then, he pulls away to look at you, face aglow. You’re a little breathless and reeling when you open your eyes to see his grin. 
“You’re worthy of so much more,” he whispers. 
There’s no time to respond as he pulls your lips to his again, this time kissing you properly. He tastes sweet, like one of his meringue treats. The slide of his plush mouth against yours makes you dizzy. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping slightly and you become ravenous. 
Your tongue brushes against his teeth and he makes a throaty sound, opening up to let you deepen the kiss, tongue sweeping against his. He’s a slow kisser, dragging his tongue against yours and letting you fall fall fall into him. 
Seokjin’s hands slide from your face down your shoulders and past them, stopping only at your hips where he squeezes. Your stomach flips at the contact and you twitch a little bit, grinding down into him as his kisses go from languid to a little needier. 
“Fuck,” he gasps, head tilting back. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” you ask, mouth going to his jaw. You press wet kisses there, messy lips followed by your tongue, leaving a spit-slick trail. His skin makes your tongue tingle, magic vibrating. 
He slips his hands under the hem of your shirt and digs his blunt nails into your hips. “You know what?”
Grinning, you bring your mouth up to his. Slowly, you lower your hips so you’re pressed flush to his, rolling them again, this time painfully slow. Your breath catches in your throat at the slow-drag friction, the feeling of him shivering underneath you.
“That?” you ask, breathless against his mouth. 
“Enough,” he hisses.
The world spins. Seokjin grabs you and in a single, swift movement sits up and stands, carrying you with him. You squeal, hands shooting to grasp at his shoulders as he walks toward your room. He kicks his shin on the coffee table as he stumbles with you, balance off with the added weight.
He curses loudly and you can’t help but laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth when his sharp gaze snaps to yours. His eyes are dark dark, hungry and fathomless now as he raises a brow. “Yeah, you’re laughing?”
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” you admit.
“You’re gonna be.”
A wild thrill shoots through you as he carries you to the bedroom. You forget how strong he is, muscles flexing as he shifts you again, careful not to drop you. It makes you feel giddy, but you squeak in a moment of terror when he drops you unceremoniously on your bed, the brief moment of freefall startling.
You land with a huff and he grins down at you as he stands up against the edge of the bed, knees squeezing your legs together as he reaches behind his neck to yank at his t-shirt. You watch, slack-jawed as he pulls the material up and over his head in a way that is somehow hot, as benign as it is. 
Seokjin is all gold and tan planes, body perfect in the low light of your room as he tosses his shirt. You take a second to admire his broad chest, dark nipples pebbling in the cool room. Dark hair trails from his belly button and vanishes in the waist of his jeans.
Seeking warmth, you reach for him. He leans forward, pressing his palms into the mattress to hover over you, knees placed on either side of your thighs. His muscles jump when you brush your hands up the softness of his stomach toward the harder muscle of his pecs. 
It feels like the sun is trapped underneath his skin, burning its way out of him as your fingers explore. You’ve never touched him like this, slow and reverant and full of unbridled desire. He watches you, drinking in the way you take him in. The way you take your time. 
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, looking up at him. His ears turn red and he rolls his eyes. You grin, dragging your hand up to rest over his chest where his heart thuds wildly beneath your palm. “I mean here, idiot. Yeah you’re hot too, but you’re beautiful in here.” 
Unreadable emotion flits across his face. Something like joy and pain - the pain of wanting to hear that for so long, waiting for the admission. You understand the same pain of desire filled so unexpectedly that it hurts. 
Seokjin kisses you again and this time with intent. He shifts and slides a knee between your legs, pressing up to the apex of your thighs. You groan and lift your hands, sliding them through his hair. The strands are silky soft and long. You twist your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling him to you as the kiss turns messy.
Whatever this is between you is more magic than you’ve felt in years. You feel breathless as he kisses across your jaw and toward your neck, sucking harshly on the soft skin underneath your ear. You whine and he chuckles, hot breath hitting your ear.
“Why don’t you do that thing you love so much, hmm?” he asks, nipping your ear lobe. “Are you shy now? Don’t wanna grind on me?”
You do want to, but you hesitate. He encourages you, taking a hand and skimming down your waist to your ass, sliding under and squeezing your cheek as he lifts your hips in a motion to grind against him. The friction is good but not nearly enough and you let out a pitiful sound. 
“Come on,” he urges. “Do it right, then.”
Fuck. Fuck. 
You grind your cunt on his leg properly, planting your feet on the edge of the bed for leverage as Seokjin’s mouth ravages your neck. You’re lost in him, letting your mind go a little empty as you seek friction, needing to relieve the pressure throbbing in your cunt.
Arousal gathers in your stomach and you feel yourself slow-drip into your panties, so turned on by the sudden confidence Seokjin has when kissing you, when telling you to move. This is a side of him you’ve never explored and you dive in head first.
One hand leaving his hair, you grab his hand that’s on your ass as he continues to nip your collarbones, tongue laving over the sting of his bite. He lets you lead him by the wrist, and you guide his hand between your legs where you press his fingers to your zipper. 
“Please,” you rasp. “I need more.”
He sinks his teeth into the top of your right breast, tongue tasting your skin. “Is that so?”
“Please. You said you’d walk through fire for me.”
His laugh is loud and he buries his face in your neck. You can’t help but laugh too, pausing your greedy hands in exchange for mirth. “Yeah,” he agrees with a chaste kiss to your throat. “I did say that, huh?”
“Yes, so gimme.” 
“Yah. Of course I am.”
Years of friendship have erased any ability to feel awkward with Seokjin but for a moment, you’re afraid it’ll be weird, touching one another like this. Seokjin has no such qualms, unbuttoning your pants and yanking them down your legs with ease.
When he comes back up to lean over you, he doesn’t slot a knee between your legs. Instead, his fingers press firmly to your clothed cunt, a curse falling from his mouth as he feels how damp you are. You’re hot all over and yet you feel hotter still as he circles his fingers gently over your clit. 
“Fuck,” you sigh, lids fluttering closed. “Feels good.”
“You’re fucking drenched, all from a little kissing huh?”
“And grinding,” you add.
“Yeah, like a hungry little vixen, huh?” You nod, biting your bottom lip as you get lost in his lazy ministrations and pressure on your clit. It’s relieved some of the ache, but not nearly enough. “I can see on your face you already want more.” 
This time, Seokjin doesn’t make you ask for it. He hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them to the side. Immediately you feel cold air against you, but he’s quick to slide his fingers up and down your wet folds, slicking them up to trail back up and circle slowly around your clit.
“Damn you’re fucking wet,” he curses. He leans up a little, eyes fucked out. “Take the rest off for me, baby.”
Baby. It shivers through you and you comply, though a little haphazardly. It’s hard to remove your shirt and bra with the way his fingers are slowly pressing your clit, making you thrash and gasp. 
As soon as you lay back down, no shirt and no bra, Seokjin is leaning forward, tongue darting out to flick against a stiffened nipple. You let out a loud moan and he hums in response, attacking his mouth to you and sucking. Fuck it feels good. You arch off the bed and his fingers leave your swollen clit to slide down your sticky mess to circle your entrance.
Gently, he sinks in a single finger. Your eyes roll back a little, pussy fluttering as he strokes your front wall. You’re tingling all over, buzzing with pleasure as he slowly fucks you with his finger, mouth busy plucking at your nipple with his teeth. 
You’re lost in it, melted into the bed as Seokjin plays you like a well-tuned instrument. The heel of his palm presses against your clit, providing just enough pressure as he fingers you to send the room spinning on its axis. 
He tongue-kisses across your chest, mouth ravenous against your heaving gasps as he finds your other nipple. The tip of his tongue circles, making you keen and squirm underneath him. He watches you with dark eyes, teasing the aching bud before nipping you lightly. 
“Sensitive,” he mumbles, dragging spit-slicked lips against your breast. “Can you take another finger?”
You nod eagerly, hungry to be filled. Your orgasm is starting to build slowly, worked up by the way he mouths at you, by the way Seokjin’s fingers reach so deep, pressing against your g-spot as he sinks another into your heat. 
“Shit,” you pant. “That feels so fucking good, Jin.”
“Mhmm.” He brings his mouth up to yours and your tongues tangle, teeth clinking together as he fucks you harder, the wet smack of your pussy against his palm loud. “Tight fucking pussy,” he pants, pressing hard against your front wall. Your heels dig into the bed as you try to keep up with the pleasure blooming in your stomach. “Gonna need to fuck you open a little if you’re gonna take me.”
If you’re gonna take me.
The promise of more has you rolling your hips up to meet his hand. He lets you fuck yourself on his fingers, dropping his gaze to look between your bodies. Your thighs and his stomach are slick with your juice, leaking around his fingers uncontrollably. 
When Seokjin introduces another finger, you hiss. The stretch is hard and it burns. He doesn’t keep thrusting right away, letting your cunt stretch around his three digits. But he’s pressed up against your soft spot, making you see stars as he puts unrelenting pressure on your nerves. 
It feels like insanity, the way he does this to you. The way Seokjin buries his face in your neck, your chests pressed together to provide friction against your teeth-marked nipples as he starts to build up a pace again, thrusting. 
“I’m gonna come,” you whisper, hands grabbing frantically at his sweaty shoulder blades. Your thighs are shaking and it’s hard to get a breath in. Your voice quakes as you gasp. “Fuck, Jin I’m - ah ah ah.”
“So come,” he says, as if it’s that simple. He puts weight behind the hand fucking you, quickens the pace. Presses so fucking hard you think you might blackout. “If you’re gonna come, then do it.” 
And you do. Just like that, nails digging into his shoulders, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched, you come around his fingers. He fucks you through it, breath hot in your ear. Your knees squeeze around his hips until you’re spent, collapsing against the mattress, boneless. 
Seokjin retracts his fingers. The sudden feeling of being empty makes you huff in protest and he laughs, lifting his face from your neck. You pout up at him and he kisses you again before leaning upward, straddling your legs. 
Your eyes zero in on his hands as they undo the top of his belt. His hand is covered in a wet sheen, cum-slicked and sticky. He doesn’t care, popping up the belt and pulling down the zipper of his pants. You grow eager, leaning up as he pulls the waist down, revealing the dark briefs that do nothing to hide how hard he is. 
With no warning, you reach for his clothed cock, squeezing firmly. He hisses and drops his hands, jeans only pulled halfway down his thighs. Seokjin tips his head back and moans at the ceiling as you lean forward and mouth at the damp spot on his briefs, tasting salt. 
“Fuck,” he swears and you grin, pressing and holding the flat of your tongue to the cloth to wet it. “You’re a little slut, huh?”
You hum in agreement. Fingers dancing up his thighs, you pause at the elastic band, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I?”
Seokjin tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes half-lidded. He nods, watching and dazed as you peel the elastic down his hips slowly. You lean forward as you do, pressing a soft kiss to his hip bone. He twitches and sighs in response.
You look at his cock as it bobs against his stomach, brown tip smearing precum against his navel. You lick your lips and drag your hand up, fingers gripping his velvety shaft. He’s thick and heavy in your hand as you grasp him firmly, stroking upward. 
“Oh fuck,” he whispers, hips twitching. You grin up at him, swiping a thumb over the crown of his cock to spread the wetness down his shaft. He hums, entranced. “More.”
You don’t have to ask what he means. You lean upwards, pulling the tip of his cock toward your mouth. You slide just the tip into your mouth, suckling generously and running your tongue along the slit. His hand slips to the side of your neck, resting there but not doing anything. It’s a comforting weight as you take him in your mouth properly. 
Seokjin is art above you. Chest flushed, mouth open, eyes closed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was on his knees at worship. It is a sort of worship, the way you sink down on his cock, lips stretched wide, drool dripping down the side of your mouth and running down your jaw and neck. Is it not the spirit of loving him moving through you? Is this not heaven, looking up at him and seeing someone that has chosen you over and over again?
No pagan ritual in your life as a witch has felt like this. You swallow around him, eyes watering as you choke on his length, pulling back a little to catch your breath. Your hand squeezes him at the base, slick with your spit and his precum. Your mouth is wet and swollen as you lick the underside of his shaft, never looking away from his face.
“Fuck that mouth,” he sighs, eyes opening and looking down at you. He squeezes the side of your neck a little, fingers right against your throat. “Come on,” he murmurs. “I can’t hold out if you keep going. How do you like it?”
Instead of answering him, you pull off of him with a sloppy, wet noise. You make a show of running your tongue along your lips before turning around and crawling up the bed, wiggling your ass a little. Seokjin groans as he sheds his jeans and briefs the rest of the way. 
The bed sinks when he crawls behind you. You go down on your elbows, ass up high. He smacks each cheek firmly with both hands, making you yelp as he grips the stinging flesh, squeezing. “You have a good ass.”
“You have a nice dick.”
He laughs loudly at that. Seokjin’s hand skims down to your thighs, grabbing them and pushing them open. You sink a little lower on the bed, face pressed to the sheets and letting your eyes shut. The hair on his thighs sends a shiver up your spine as his legs brush against yours, hands roaming and squeezing your hips, your butt, your thighs.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters. His hands come back over the globes of your ass and sink toward your wet cunt. You moan as his thumbs peel you open, pressing around your clenching hole. “Shit.” 
The bed bounces as he moves again and then your eyes are snapping open, fingers twisting in your sheets when you feel the flat of his tongue swipe up your pussy. He hums in delight and you’re reeling, trying to catch your breath as he licks at you.
“Just wanted a taste,” he says, more to himself than you. He sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it a few times and you nearly crumble right there at the unexpected stimulation. He slow-licks up to your hole, tracing it once before retracting his mouth. “I have all the time in the world for you to come in my mouth. Right now I just wanna feel you.”
“Yes, please.”
Your breath gets stuck when you feel the head of Seokjin’s cock catch your entrance. He’s thick, and even though you’re dripping down your thighs and stretched from his fingers, the pressure of him sinking into your heat slowly sends you moaning like a wanton whore, unable to stop the sounds escaping your mouth.
Seokjin is precise, hands holding your hips firmly until he’s fully seated in your cunt, your walls fluttering around him. You feel so full, his cock reaching deep enough to feel in your gut. When he pulls all the way out, you think something is wrong, but he fucks back into you hard.
“Oh shit,” you gasp, feeling the full weight of him spear you. “Holy shit.”
He doesn’t say anything but he grunts, setting a slow but deep pace. His hips snap into you with force, your knees spreading a little bit wider. He leans into it more, moving his hands to press into the small of your back. The full force of his weight pushing your hips into the bed as he slams into you makes you dizzy. 
An orgasm starts to build deep in your stomach. You claw at the bed, breaths coming out in a hiss. Seokjin grabs one of your hands, pulling it backward to pin it against your lower back before doing the same to the other. You’re completely pinned under him, pushed so far into the mattress you think you might fade and vanish into foam and sheets. 
Nothing here matters but the way he fucks into you, unrelenting, heavy, precise. He says your name and it rolls off his tongue sweeter than any pastry he’s ever made. Your orgasm creeps up on you, shaking and thunderous. It feels stronger than before, a pressure that makes you start to shiver, feet kicking under him.
For a moment, he slows, pulling off you a little. “Okay?”
“Keep going,” you beg him, voice high-pitched and strange to your ears. “Please don’t stop, I’ll tell you if I can’t take it.”
That’s all he needs. He redoubles and this time, changes his direction, hits that spot inside of you head on with his cock and you think you’re going to pass out. You become lifeless under him, unable to do anything but take it. The wave of your orgasm builds and builds and builds until finally, it breaches. 
You come for a second time, no noise coming out of you. It’s all white vision and squeezed thighs and ringing ears. You think you feel something like a bolt of lightning, a snap of power so strong as you clench around Seokjin that you taste static in the air. 
It’s hard to know how long it lasts. One moment you’re shaking and the next, you’re drifting, feeling weightless and exhausted. The weight of Seokjin’s touch keeps you tethered and from straying too far, but you’re somewhere in between nonetheless. 
Slowly, reality drips back to you. You think you may have dozed a little, your eyes dry as you blink them open. Seokjin is lying next to you, arm wrapped around you and eyes closed. He’s not breathing deep enough to be asleep, confirming it when his eyes open, sensing your gaze.
A smile lights up his face and you smile tiredly at him. Your cunt aches and your legs and arms are sore from being pinned, and you’re still a little shaky. Thoughts of your orgasm make you twitch, post-sex tremors that you can’t escape.
“Hi,” you rasp. “Did I fall asleep?”
“I think you blacked out.”
“I- what?” 
“I sort of…” he frowns. “There was like this electrical snap when I came. You clenched me so fucking hard I just… let go. I think we sort of had a magical orgasm.”
“A magical orgasm.”
He grins. “Just say thank you for the witch orgasm.”
“Ugh.” You smack his chest and he laughs hoarsely. 
It did feel like that though. Like a crackle of energy, like being struck by a storm of electricity and heat. You feel tired and heavy-limbed, but you feel sticky and sweaty too. “I need a shower.”
“Mhmm. I was waiting for you to come to.” He starts to sit up. “Come on, I’ll shower you. Then we need to sleep. We have to prepare you for your big day.”
“My big day?”
Seokjin grins as he reaches a hand for you. There’s a spark again when you touch and you hesitate, feeling the well of his magic there. It hums in him, a thunderhead of power and fire. He sees your expressions and softens. “You can’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Baby, I just fucked the everloving shit out of you and you know what you didn’t do?” Your brows pull together and he smiles. “You didn’t pull an ounce of my magic from me. I think you’re a lot better at control than you think you are.”
Licking your lips, you nod and let him pull you from bed. You are good at control. You had to be after your sister. It’s something you’ve practiced nonstop, the unconscious control of your desire for magic. Even when you sleep, you wake up often, fearful of losing your grip on yourself while you slumber.
It hasn’t happened yet. And as Seokjin leads you to the shower, you think… maybe it never will. Especially if the ritual goes right. Especially if you can get your magic back. 
Perhaps for the first time since you were thirteen, you feel a sliver of hope. When you look at Seokjin and you feel your heart stutter, you know that even without your magic, you’ve found something.
-
“Oh for the love of the land,” Yoongi groans when you appear in the basement of Seokjin’s home. “Look at the two of you.”
Everyone swivels to look at you and Seokjin, who are hand-in-hand. You freeze, pulling up short to take in the candle-lit room and the six other men who are all looking at you with equal parts happiness and a little bit of amusement.
You shift from foot to foot and chew your lip. Suddenly you want to turn tail and run back up the stairs and away from the watchful eyes of your friends - of Seokjin’s coven members. But Seokjin holds your hand tight, tugging you down the rest of the stairs into the gloom of the room.
Perhaps gloom isn’t the right word. The room is much too warm and smells of sage and thyme, a good feeling if not a little overwhelming. Outside this house, there is an entire festival going on at the park. The covenstead witches were furious when Seokjin let them know that he and his six would not be participating this year, as they had private matters to attend to.
It’s common for covens to use the holiday for something specific. Perhaps to bless a witch in need, or to strengthen a spell, or to defeat some evil. You remember that night that your parents left you alone for Beltane duties to fight and remove Dissenters, and how that turned out for you.
Magic hums all around you. It’s in the sigils on the ceiling of Seokjin’s sanctum and it’s in the ley lines that you can feel now more than ever as the veil between worlds thins. Each member of the coven has magic humming in their veins, a sort of signature taste and feel to it. You sense Yoongi’s deep shadows and Namjoons vibrant green, taste Jimin’s clean water and feel Hoseok’s pure air. Taehyung and Seokjin are the flickering flame that fills the room with light and heat, and Jungkook’s crackling storm greets you in the corner.
It’s hard to imagine where you fit in with them. But they don’t have a blood witch, who is all of these things wrapped into one. You know that they support you. The eight of you have gone over the ritual what feels like a hundred times at this point, perfecting it and making sure you know it inside and out.
The two rituals are wildly different. One to seek and find the source of your pain, led by Yoongi and Hoseok. Yoongi’s shadows and connection to the other side will help seek answers and provide clarity on whatever signs and hints come through the vision you’re supposed to have, and Hoseok’s strength with air will help keep you protected and clear of any negative energy.
Then, a small spell to build a bridge between the two rituals that Namjoon will handle with Jimin. Namjoon has it down to a science and has previously used it to link spells, and his affinity for earth will ground the entire circle. Jimin’s skill with water is to help guide you from ritual to ritual with ease and clarity. 
It’s the second half of the ritual that’s the most demanding, which is why it’s Taehyung and Jungkook conducting the destructive half, breaking whatever stands between you and your magic. Two warriors meant to sever your block or the target of your curse, whichever it may be.
And it’s possible that you’re cursed. You have briefly spoken about what that means. About what to do. It will most likely mean something damaging and life-threatening for whoever did curse you, if you forcefully try to shatter it instead of finding the cause. 
But there’s also potential for you to be harmed if the two of them try to break it and it’s too strong. It’s a risk that you have to assess in the moment, which is terrifying. You want to do it anyway, and you’re happy to find that they support you. That they’re there for you.
Coven members already, really. 
All seven of them are dressed to perform a ritual. Dark robes, anointed element symbols in dark ash on their brows. Yoongi has a small circlet around his head, making you pause and tilt your head as you glance at Seokjin. He sees your confusion and smiles. “Yoongi is our high priest tonight,” he murmurs. “He will start and end the circle so I can be here with you.”
Yoongi is blushing and looking up at the ceiling when you turn back to him. For him to step up and hold the circle as the beginning and end is a huge risk on him. He’ll be providing the most magic and taking on the most risk second only to you, all so that Seokjin can move freer and have more control.
“Yoongi is a very powerful witch, as you know,” Seokjin murmurs, steering you to the center of the room. “He holds circles for a lot of our rituals when we feel he’s better suited.” 
“Which is often,” Yoongi mutters at the ceiling where he keeps his gaze. 
“Yah, shut up, hag. Everyone get in their places.”
Seokjin puts you in the very center of the room. There is a pentagram chalked in powder, but there is no glow to it, no light to signal that it’s being used. He squeezes your shoulders and you look at him, wide eyed and afraid. His smile is warm and a little nervous, but he leans in and kisses you once.
“Trust us,” he says. “This will be hard on you. But we’ve got you.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t break the circle,” he reminds you. “If you have to break, do it when Namjoon is at the middle part and before we start the second ritual. He will open the circle a little, but it’ll be just for a moment before the second is started and locked.”
“Right. Ten second escape if I need to.”
“You only have that window if we need to stop. Once we start the second, there is no stopping until the full ritual is complete.”
“Got it.”
“Good luck,” Seokjin whispers and kisses you on the brow. “I’ll be right here.”
With a deep breath, he steps to the side and grasps your hand. The two of you stand alone in the middle, you and your anchor. Silence settles over the room. You haven’t been in the middle of a circle since you were a little girl receiving her first welcome into the coven. You had done that with your sister by your side and your mother at the head of the circle.
Now, you’re with Seokjin, with Yoongi at the head of the circle. Yoongi doesn’t really make eye contact with you, but you sense his calming aura even from where he stands at the first point of the circle. He rolls his shoulders and closes his eyes, lifting his palms upward. “I stand at north, the beginning and end, start this circle, spirit ascend.”
You feel the ripple of magic in the room. Fire crackles at Yoongi’s feet, making you flinch. You watch as the red flames lick toward Hoseok, who is quick and light as he murmurs, “I stand northeast, to cleanse and protect, continue the circle, spirit to the next.”
You watch the flame as it sparks to life, moving clockwise around the room. Every time a member joins the circle, you feel the power thrum through the room, the pentagram beneath your feet beginning to glow. The flame comes all the way back around to Yoongi and he closes it, eyes opening and looking right at you.
Yoongi looks different than before, eyes shadowed and full of stars. “Begin,” he commands, voice like a thousand whispers. 
A little spike of fear goes through you as Hoseok begins to chant. You recognize the Latin immediately but your unpracticed ears lose trace of the meaning. It’s picked up slowly in the room and you feel your palms slick with sweat as the light of the pentagram pulses beneath your feet, the flames flickering around the feet of the coven members.
Yoongi’s voice picks up the chant like you’ve never heard him before. It’s uncanny and you lean into Seokjin, who squeezes your hand and looks down at you.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “This happens when he leads a circle. Veil is thin.”
Nodding your head, you turn to the front again, feeling the itch to pull power from the circle, to draw their magic into you. There’s so much of it filling the room, an open tap of water spilling into the sink. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip, worried that you won’t be able to resist, worried that you’re going to pull from the magic and-
A wave of dizziness hits you. You gasp and bend over, hand circling your middle as though you’ve just been punched. Seokjin’s hands are on your back but you can’t hear him, a high-pitched ringing drowning out the sound of his voice. For a second, you’re lost in the sensation of having the air sucked from your lungs and the whine in your ears getting higher and higher.
Just when you think that your ear drums will burst, the ringing stops. There is a hushed whisper filling your ears and you still can’t catch your breath. The room spins a little and when you look up expecting to see Yoongi, all you see is dark trees and a blurry shadowy… building. Something. 
The whispers creep up on you. There are so many of them, hundreds - no, thousands - of voices brushing against you, dragging their fingers along your skin, touching you, hissing, singing, screaming. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced and their words are jumbled, sliding over one another.
Terror begins to claw at you. You try to remain calm, remembering that these are not the voices of spirits or something evil. Hoseok is commanding this ritual, an element of purity and guidance. He won’t let anything bad happen to you.
With faith in your future coven member, you try to focus on the voices. Try to decode them. Namjoon warned you that the messaging might be confusing. That you might not follow or understand what it’s saying. Symbols, images, key words. You need to reach for anything that seems like something, that can point to the origin of your block and follow it. 
Yoongi’s presence presses at the back of your mind. It startles you at first, to feel who you know is innately Yoongi. You follow the press of whatever he’s doing and you catch a few words that fly by you: little hut little hut. Little hut little hut. Little hut little hut. 
Unsure what it means, you cling to that. Little hut. It means something… you remember something about it. Yoongi’s presence fades away, satisfied that you’ve picked up on whatever it is he sees or senses. 
Flipping through memories, you try to remember why a hut might mean anything to you. There were no huts by your town… nothing that you can remember no one you know of. 
Little hut, little hut.
One memory sticks with you. Your sister playing in the background, hopscotching to a little tune that Mila down the street whispered to her about a witch in the woods. 
Little hut, little hut
Hidden in the wood
Little hut, little hut
Up to no good
Yes, you think. A rhyme about a witch who lived in the woods. More thing than witch, really. A shadowy being that took the shape of a hut, a creature of magic and curses that could be found in the darkest part of the woods when the veil is thin. 
Little hut, little hut
Alone in the gloom
Little hut, little hut
Silent as a tomb
You see it now. The blurry shape of a house that’s not really a house. The witch in the wood was a blood witch once, it was said. A witch who had long since dissented and practiced arcane magic, following a path that led her here. That led her to this. A thing of the woods. 
It occurs to you the weight of the appearance of her. This hut in the woods. Yoongi’s flippant remark about you being cursed is suddenly real.
Dread drops down in your stomach like a weight. You can’t hear anything beyond the rhyme, the chant to find the witch of the woods. You’re cursed, you realize. All the fear that your condition was self-inflicted, that it was your fault, that this was something you did. 
This is something that happened to you, Seokjin had said.
And he was right. Someone cursed you - did this to you. A child. 
Out there in the world, there is someone responsible for the death of your sister. Someone who took your magic, who turned you into a leech. The reason for your family's pain, the reason for them throwing you away. For your father and mother being driven mad, for the town turning against you.
You think about the rock that hit you just days ago. Thrown by a child taught to hate you. Taught that it was okay to hurt you because it was you. The town siphoner. A witch who couldn’t make her own magic, a parasite. 
Anger wells up inside of you and you latch onto the rhyme swirling around your head, clawing through it. This is the thread you must follow to find your curse giver. This is the clue.
Little hut, little hut
Across the dark stream
Little hut, little hut
Wait for the scream
Dully, you are aware that Seokjin is next to you. You see him from the corner of your eye but it’s not Seokjin at all. Well - not as you now know him. This Seokjin is younger - a teenager by the looks of it. He’s not doing anything except staring out into the darkness. He fades in and out like a bad TV picture, glitching and blurring. But you know it’s him. 
His face is different though. Twisted in grief and pain, a frozen picture of angst. You imagine this is what you looked like when your sister died, a tableau of hurt and hate. 
Little hut, little hut
I call to thee
Little hut, little hut
Come to me
The Seokjin in front of you fades away. You reach out for him but your hands cut through empty air and darkness. He’s not really there and you have a hard time grasping the meaning of this. The voice sounds almost like Seokjin but not quite. Not as mature. 
Young Seokjin doesn’t show up again. You can feel the real Seokjin somewhere in the mess of the vision and the darkness, but you can’t hear him. Can’t see him. There is only the omnipresent darkness of the hut and the whispers of voices. 
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life 
There’s a flash of lightning. A storm in the darkness, splashes of purple and blue electricity. You cover your eyes as you hear thunder, low and soft somewhere. Across from you, your sister appears. She’s a fraternal twin who looks nothing like you except in the eyes. Your eyes look right back at you.
She’s the same age she was when she died. When you took her magic away. When you were cursed. She looks the same age as the apparition of Seokjin, and you try to understand. To make the connection from what you're seeing as the lightning lances again like it did that fateful night.
The rhyme keeps circling in a hurricane of whispers. 
As the ritual comes to a close, the vision begins to fade. You’re no better off than where you started and in a panic, you reach for the vision of your sister. You just want to hold her one last time, to feel the warmth of her skin.
But she isn’t real and she fades as Hoseok’s chanting falls to a murmur and then to a whisper, the air returning to normal. You can breathe again, and as you look up from where you’re bent over, you see Seokjin kneeling on the ground in front of you, holding you by the shoulders. His face is swimming with fear and concern, gaze searching.
Seokjin looks so much like his younger self. He’s matured into his face and is a handsome man, but he was a cute teenager. His face now is full of love and concern, but you think about his face in your vision. Twisted in pain and years. 
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life 
You straighten up suddenly, knocking him over on his ass as you do so. It feels like you’ve been slapped as you stare at him, a sudden buzz in your ears as you stare and stare and stare. The ritual comes to an end and Namjoon opens the circle - a foot in the door, more like - and begins to start his spell for Taehyung and Jungkook to weave the new ritual into the circle. 
Without thinking about it, you dash for the edge of the circle. Seokjin yells but you’re fast, surging between Namjoon and Jimin where the door exists. Namjoon’s head snaps to look at you, eyes wide and mouth open.
“Close it and close the circle,” you pant. 
“I-”
“Close the fucking circle!”
Seven pairs of eyes look at you then. They hesitate for a moment, the flames around them wavering. You can feel the power licking at their heels and something like rage shudders through you. You don’t know where to channel it yet and you begin to pace as Namjoon recloses the circle and turns to Yoongi. 
Slowly, Yoongi begins to finish the ritual. They work backward from Yoongi to Jungkook to Taehyung to Jimin. You don’t look at them, wringing your hands as you pace back and forth, heart reaching a wild beat. 
Images fly by. The hut, the whispers, Seokjin’s face, the thunderstorm, your sister. 
The narrative isn’t straightforward. You don’t quite understand the rhyme, or its function, but the second half sounds bad, sounds perhaps like a plea. A bargain. A need for a curse. You recall the thunderstorm on the night of Beltane, the way your sister watched with wide eyes while you sought her out. You think of Seokjin’s affinity for fire and storms, the way he can command thunder just by being upset. You think of his face, so full of pain and hate. 
Finally, they finish the circle. Seokjin rushes to you, hands outstretched and a question on his mouth but you jerk away from him. 
“Did you curse someone?” you demand, making him pull up short. He opens and closes his mouth. The silence in the room is deafening. You can hear your own heartbeat, pulse throbbing in your ears. “Seokjin, did you curse someone?”
“I… what does that have to do with-”
“Little hut, little hut. Hear my strife. Little hut, little hut. Ruin this life.” 
Three things happen then. The first is Seokjin’s confusion as he shakes his head, lost as to why you’re repeating a rhyme back to him. Then a flicker of memory followed by the drain of color on his face. He straightens up, blanched and shaking his head back and forth as he takes a step away from you.
“No,” he says and takes another step back. “That’s not right, I didn’t curse you.”
“What did you do?” 
“I didn’t curse you,” he says again. He seems lost in it though, like he’s saying it to himself. Yoongi takes a step toward Seokjin and he holds out a hand, warding Yoongi off. “I cursed the witches responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t curse you.” 
“You cursed someone?” Taehyung hisses from across the circle. “And you never thought to mention it in preparation for this?”
“Shut up, Taehyung,” Seokjin snaps. “I didn’t curse her. I did go into the woods that night to find the hut witch and I cursed the people responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t even know you then.” 
“Did you give a name? What did you say?” 
“I didn’t know their names!” He answers, frantic and looking at you pleadingly. “I didn’t - no. I remember it, I shared my blood with her, to show the memory. I saw their faces, but I didn’t know their names. We were -” his voice cracks and he clutches his hands against his chest, tears in his eyes. “I was so afraid when they came. We’d been going from town to town, trying to get away. My parents wanted to go back home, overseas. We just had to get there and then these witches, they came and blew down the door and they killed them.”
“So you cursed them based on a memory?”
“Yes,” he insists. “Baby, I didn’t curse you. How could I? How would I?”
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life 
“Seokjin.” You say his full name, voice ringing and calmer than you feel. Your stomach is in knots and you feel your mouth water, hinting at the nausea working its way up your throat. “Did you ask the blood witch in the hut to ruin the lives of the witches who killed your parents?”
“Yes.”
“Were your parents Dissenters killed on the night of Beltane?”
A long stretch of silence takes up the space between you. You stare at Seokjin and he becomes a stranger. Become another person on the street that looks at you with hate. Another face in the dozens of the town who don’t care if you exist. 
When Seokjin says nothing, it says everything. The final piece of information slots its way in and you feel like you’re going to crack open like an egg and spill out. Gooey and yolk-yellow. 
“That was why there was a storm,” you whisper. “Because you were angry and upset, wherever it was that you were. And you cursed my family. Not my parents. Our entire family. That’s why I lost my magic and siphoned my sister to death. That’s why my parents were driven to madness and their eventual end. It’s why everyone hates me. You cursed me with ruin.”
“I…” Seokjin shakes his head but can’t make the words come out. 
There is no way out now. You get everything picture perfect for the first time. It’s the perfect curse, really. Driving your family to ruin in different ways. Pushing you, the final member of the family, to the person you would eventually fall in love with, to the person that cursed you.
You can’t break it. Not knowing that it’s most likely at the cost of Seokjin’s life. Giving his blood to the witch was a terrible thing. She used it to cast the curse and likely to bind it to him. Which means if you want your magic, you must kill Seokjin. 
Instead of standing there to consider the possibility, you turn and run. He tries to run after you but someone stops him. He has his coven to comfort him for what he’s done and you have nothing and no one. Just how you started. 
Your runaway is messy. Tripping over thresholds, slipping down stairs. Night stretches over the world and the air is thrumming with energy. You think it would be so easy to tap into, to take and take and take the magic around you that echoes from the Beltane festivals. Would anyone even notice if you took a little?
Still, you don’t. Hot tears blind you as you stumble into the woods behind Seokjin’s house. It’s not the best shortcut when you’re distraught and overcome with tears, but you think you can get to your apartment building by memory alone. 
Around you, the world grows darker and quieter. Eventually, all you can hear is your ragged breathing and sniffling as the tears freefall. Something prickles on your skin and you slow your tangled escape to look around you.
The woods are unfamiliar. At least, they seem darker and hazier, like you’re somewhere that looks like the woods behind Seokjin’s house but isn't quite right. You’re more careful as you move forward, one foot in front of the other. 
A breeze cools the back of your neck. It makes you shiver, feeling more like a finger running down your spine than the actual wind. A whisper of noise wisps by you and you stop, frowning. Trying to grasp the words as they float by, indiscernible. 
You start walking again, following the sound of a voice that is always just a little too far ahead. A little too soft spoken for you to make out the words. When you do manage to catch up, you hear a soft little rhyme. 
Little hut, little hut
Hidden in the wood
Little hut, little hut
Up to no good
Little hut, little hut
Alone in the gloom
Little hut, little hut
Silent as a tomb
Little hut, little hut
Across the dark stream
Little hut, little hut
Wait for the scream
Something like a high-pitched wail rings out behind you. Your limbs lock and goosebumps explode over your arms and legs as you slowly crane your neck to look in the direction that you came. There’s no clear path, just tangled trees and darkness. 
A soft buzz tingles along your skin. You sense the magic, static that you can’t hear but you can feel and taste on your tongue. Slowly, you turn back to face the direction you’re walking. There is a tiny little stream in front of you, trickling and black.
Carefully, you step over it. Your hands quake. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck and your upper lip, your mouth trembling as you see the vague shape of a hut. Or perhaps it's just the idea of a hut, with a hole for a door that looks endless. Void. Dark. 
You think about your sister. See her face swimming in front of you, so full of life. Then it drains of color as you bleed her dry and steal everything from her. Every drop, turning her from a beautiful girl full of the sun and the sky into a husk. 
You clench your fists. 
Vengeance can’t bring her back. Vengeance can’t make them love you. But it can take away this fucking hurt inside of you, the pain that you have carried for so long that it feels like a wound that will never close. So you decide to take a page out of Seokjin’s book.
“Little hut, little hut,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Feel my ache. Little hut, little hut, make him break.” 
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sugoi-and-spice · 3 months
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Ask of me debauchery....
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...and you shall fucking receive.
Step by Step: A Gecko’s Guide to Becoming a Really Bad Person
Part One
Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!!
Summary: In which, Bully!Reader manipulates Step-Bro!Spinner sexually in increasingly demeaning ways. And eventually, he asks his good ol’ pal Tomura Shigaraki for help.
CW:  Step-brother, Dub-Con, Blackmail, Bullying, Mean Reader, Male Masturbation, Oral Sex, Spinner has two dicks, Step-cest, Monster-fucking, AU - No League of Villains
A/N: I predict people are gonna be maaaaaad about this one and I'm all for it lol
Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!
Read Full Chapter on AO3
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[excerpt]
Her step-brother, Shuichi Iguchi, was a fucking loser. She knew it from the moment she saw him. And not in a prejudiced way or anything, it wasn’t because he was a heteromorph. After all, she has plenty of heteromorph friends (none quite as extreme as him, but still!)
No, it was all the other things she noticed about him when he walked into the family restaurant with his Dad the first day they met. The way he carried himself, slouching and fidgeting endlessly, unable to decide if he should cross his arms, put them in his pockets, or keep them at his side. The way he��dressed, a ridiculously faded crewneck, baggy cargo pants, and a freebie League of Legends snapback that only served to further curtain his greasy long hair in his face. When she actually managed to grab a glimpse of his eyes through the locks, it was only for a second, and they were constantly shifting, dropping, unspeakably nervous.
Even in a casual setting, he looked completely out of place. He practically jumped anytime anyone asked him the most basic of questions like “how’s school”, “what do you want to drink”, “can you pass the soy sauce”. It was like he’d just been dragged out of his bedroom for the first time in five years — and she wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case.
She also wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the first time he’d ever been this close to a girl before, as he always looked especially panicked anytime he realized she was glancing at him, so she didn’t even really bother trying to talk to him that night, focussing instead on getting to know he future step-father — who seemed like an overall decent guy.
At the very least, Iguchi seemed to understand his status well. When she entered high school — the same one as him — he didn’t try to walk with her to or from school, didn’t try and talk to her, basically pretended like they didn’t even know each other, which she appreciated. She would’ve hated to have to be a bitch and tell him to get lost in front of all her new high school friends and potentially be reprimanded by her Mom to prove a point (of course, she would’ve if she had to).
Yes, her new step-brother was a fucking loser, someone she wouldn’t be caught dead talking to, let alone spending any meaningful time with in public. 
And yet somehow, she was completely infatuated with him.
She loved the way his skin looked, the different viridescent shades it took on depending on what angle or lighting she saw it in. She loved even more the way it felt, the times when his hands brushed against hers when he handed her a bowl or she bumped shoulders with him, cool and impossibly smooth with a texture so different from her own. She’d wanted to run her hand across every inch of it, to feel every difference. Just imagining it pressing and rubbing all across her own body had her gasping into her pillow for hours.
She didn’t know how the fuck it happened. It would’ve been great if she did, because maybe she could make it unhappen then. But nope, the harder she tried to understand it, the further away the answer seemed to get.
Maybe it was because he was so different from her or anyone else she would ever actually consider dating. Had their parents not gotten married, she never would’ve let herself give Iguchi the time of day. But within the walls of this family home, she was able to enjoy and explore him to her heart’s content. She was inquisitive by nature. Her friends called it sadistic, but she saw it as just wanting to see how far she could take things. And the desire to do so to Shuichi Iguchi was no different. He was so sweet and so shy, so eager to please or be invisible to everyone around him.
She wanted to see where that ended, what exact buttons she could press to get him to actually snap at her.
It started with little things at first, innocent things. Asking him to do her chores, her homework, even her shopping, yet he could never say no to her. Not even when she asked him to go buy her a set of lacy lingerie she was wanting. He actually fucking did it — handing the little pink boutique bag out to her without looking her in the eye, his skin flushed all the way down to his neck. Oh, she knew then that he was going to be fun . 
That with him, she could really get… creative.
Flirting with him shamelessly, hanging out on his bed in nothing but a pair of panties and a tank top she’d stolen from him while he played video games, throwing her legs over his lap during family movie nights, pretending she didn’t notice how warm and fidgety it made him while she continued to move her calves back and forth across his crotch.
There came a point when she thought that maybe the guy was just unbreakable, that he really didn’t have a single impure thought about her in his head and that this wasn’t a game, but just an infuriating (not to mention insulting ) exercise in futility. 
But then, late one night, through the thin wall they shared, she heard it. The sound of flesh against flesh, muffled grunts.
Her name, breathy but distinctive, on his tongue. 
Shuichi Iguchi, her dear, perfectly behaved, and endlessly timid older step-brother, was in his bed, jacking off. 
Imagining her .
And it wasn’t a one time incident either. She listened closely in the following days, and discovered that it was a nightly occurrence, that she was a nightly occurrence to him. And it wasn’t long before she joined him in his fantasizing, spending night after night pressed as close into the wall as she could get, imagining that that stupid piece of plaster dividing their beds was gone, as she fingered herself to sleep.
It should’ve gotten easier after that, she should’ve been able to extend her patience knowing that it was an actual possibility now. But if anything, it made the burn within her even worse, knowing that it was so close yet so far out of reach. She didn’t just want this, she fucking needed this. But it’s not like she could let him know that. She couldn’t let him think that she wanted it, that she wanted him . She needed it to seem like mercy. 
She needed to have the upperhand.
So, she started setting traps. Things she could use against him, to get him into the palm of her hand, a place where he didn’t say no just because he didn’t want to say no, but so that he couldn’t say no. She asked him to get things from her room and left sex toys out, wore skimpier and skimpier outfits that she could catch him staring at her in, left her phone out so that he could read her lewd messages to other boys at school. 
Yet still, nothing.
Iguchi didn’t step a single clawed toe out of line outside of the four walls of his bedroom. He was the perfectly polite older brother that she knew and hated to love.
It wasn’t until she wasn’t even trying to trap him that he finally took the bait. 
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mossfrg · 11 months
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Lost Talon au 3/?
Imagine Jason’s reaction to Dick being brought back. Like, Jason was the Robin right after Dick died— he had the biggest shoes to fill, coming immediately after the original. He was constantly trying to live up to the standards Dick unknowingly set. After he nearly died by the Joker’s hand and made his own identity, Jason felt more comfortable with himself and out to bed his worries.
But then Dick comes back, and he comes back wrong.
Jason had always privately hoped that one day this older brother would appear and take the reigns for him. The he would get to meet The Dick Grayson, have that man as an older brother.
Instead, Jason is still the oldest, and now has to deal with a half-brainwashed (non-consensually!!) genetically modified 18-year-old almost assassin who’s 12ish years out of place. What the fuck. He did not sign up for this.
Tim feels much the same way. He’s older than Dick, and that’s not something that should’ve ever happened. Tim remembers seeing Dick at galas, remembers his warm tanned skin and bright blue eyes when he’d smile. Remembers being taught how to do a flip and a cartwheel by a boy who claimed to fly from chandeliers. Remembers a kind older boy sneaking him into the gardens when things got too loud and he was so young and couldn’t handle the way his parents looked at him but this older boy was giving him the time of day-
And now that boy is younger than him. Blue eyes replaced by cold, unflinching gold. Skin still tan, but paler with a gray tint to it; black veins crawl up his throat and down his arms. He’s cold to the touch. He’s still kind, but much more hesitant in showing that softness; more likely to flash his claws than return a gentle hug. And that’s not to mention the wings, over 20ft of feathers and muscle tucked between his shoulders (he still perches on chandeliers though).
Damian had never met the First Son his Father had taken in. He’s heard countless stories of the brave, kind, caring, innocent child who creates the Robin mantle. Who didn’t kill, who made jokes, who was kind and sweet and friendly. Damian, unlike the other two, didn’t worry about living up to Grayson, but to living up to the innocent he brought. How could Damian ever be a good Robin when his hands were stained with blood?
But then Grayson, Richard, had been found. And he had blood on his hands. Less so than Damian himself, of course, and less than even Todd or Drake. But still. It was blood. And he’d gone under much the same training Damian himself had. The First Robin, trained and bloodied like Damian. Who took one look at Damian wearing his family’s name and colors and beamed for the first time since they’d brought him home, wings extending to wrap around him as he cooed, who’d heard that Todd and Drake had also shared the mantle and dragged them into the hug too, proclaiming them family and his flock, “or colony if you really want to stick with the bat theme, B, but I think it’s telling that 4/4 of your sidekicks went with a bird theme, maybe you should think of being Birdman-“
Richard Grayson, who despite everything, still managed to be himself after 12 years. Damian thinks it gives him a little hope and privately, thinks that if Richard can be so good after what he’s been through, there’s a chance Damian can be good too. Not that he’s ever say that aloud; he’s the Blood Son after all, even if Richard was the First Son.
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