#it's the way his voice cracks on 'me' as he struggles to stay composed when he's seconds away from crying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsonsreputation · 7 months

Text

move baby, i'm in love

word count: [2.8k]

warnings: smut (mdni or i will literally dropkick you so hard), oral (blowie), illusions to oral fixation and a tiny bit of choking (literally stevie just pressing down once), and mentions of piv.

summary: steve takes you out to italy in hopes of exploring the city and catching a break from hawkins -- but the both of you should've known things would get hot and heavy the second he put a cigar to his mouth.

The Italian sun just nearly stumbles over the city, the sky shifting from its bright clear baby blue to a soft orange that casts a light overhead.

The gold chain around your boyfriend’s neck glimmers against the shimmering rays nearly blinding you, yet you don’t make any moves to look away from him.

He looks tempting, and it’s almost like torture, the way he’s doing it so casually like he doesn’t know what effect it has on you.

The way you’re struggling to find any semblance of composure as you sit across from him with your legs clenched and your hands shaking.

His eyes look up at you past his sunglasses, a brow raised while he pulls the roll from between his lips.

“S’the matter, baby? Too hot?”

Yeah, way too fucking hot, Harrington

You take a deep breath through your nose, shaking your head as you smile through the torture and relax your legs, trying not to look so tense because you really don’t want to have to come up with a lie to explain it.

“N-no, I’m fine. Just a little warm out.”

You pushed your hair over your shoulder, hoping to find a breeze of air soon.

He frowns, cupping your cheek with his large palm making you grow hotter by the second. You must be scorching under his touch and your theory is proven right as his frown becomes deeper muddled with concern.

“You can wait for me inside if you want? I’m almost done with this little thing.” He says, gesturing to the cigar in his hand.

It takes everything in you to not jump his bones, but you fear you’re already teetering on the line. Literally moments away from telling him to put out the stupid thing and play with you instead.

Only you don’t.

You actually have it in you to compose yourself, taking the initiative to back away from his fingertips and clear your throat. Though the action alone burns, as if you had been stripped away from something…someone you needed.

“I…it’s okay, I wanna wait.” The crack in your voice failing to smooth out.

Your attempts at reassuring him went nowhere and you should’ve known it’d be that way especially because Steve can see right through you.

He knows the forced smile on your face and he definitely picks up on the crack of your voice — don’t even get him started on the fact that he’s noticed your legs clenching since a few minutes ago.

“Baby,” He laughs, slipping his free hand down across his spread legs, knowing what it does to you. “It’s much cooler inside. I’ll be there in a bit.”

His tone is almost sincere, as if he really is oblivious, but deep down you both know how this is going to end. It’s only a matter of when and who is going to make the first move — he knows you can’t resist.

He stands correct, observing as you shake your head and shift your chest out, rolling your shoulders back trying to be cool and in control, but you weren’t as nonchalant as you thought you were being.

“No, I wanna stay,” you say more sternly.

Steve chuckles again. He can see the shivers creeping up over your skin when he makes the move to take off his sunnies, setting them on the glass table before he leans closer to you, leaving only inches.

“Yeah?” He smirks, taking a drag of the cigar. “Why d’you wanna stay out here in the hot sun while I smoke this thing? I thought you hated the smell?”

His voice is low and teasing, but his actions still remain sweet, the whiff of smoke exhaled away from your face doing his best to not let the smell get directly to you.

“I do.” You whisper shamelessly, eyes beginning to go glassy with him so close to you.

The cigar seems to be a prop in his hand now. His forefingers twiddled it as he pursed his lips and slanted his eyes at you.

“Tell me then, baby.”

He’s not gonna make this easy, and if you had any patience, you’d love to play the little game, but right now you had none and just wanted to play with him.

“You…you look so good and I wanna watch you.”

Your voice comes with a whine, an insatiable one that has Steve suppressing a growl in his chest.

You watch his throat bob with a thick swallow before his palm finds its way back up to your cheek, cupping it and feeling the blood underneath rush blazingly.

Only he can get you like and likewise you’re the only one who can get his blood rushing, in other places not just one.

Steve’s better at playing the game especially when he’s got the upper hand like right now. You’re staring up at him lazily, ready to give him everything and more at a moment’s notice.

He’s the bait and you’re waiting to bite.

“Awww baby,” He says half-mockingly.

“This whole time I thought you wanted a try, all along you just wanna watch me, huh? Isn’t. That. Right?”

The last three words are accompanied with a tap of his fingertips against your plush cheek. It makes you go stupid, brain shutting off and the only goal you have is making him feel good.

Your eyes flutter, nearly closing, just having enough strength behind them to keep watching your boyfriend before you inhaled slowly, trying to form words that your mind could barely find.

“Mhmm, I do…I really really do, Stevie.”

He can feel you press your face deeper into his hand, and he has zero plans of retracting his touch away, wanting to make up for the way you ripped yourself from him earlier. Feeling your breath hitting his skin with how deeply you’re taking air in and out, trying not to float away too soon.

His free hand taps the blunt, shaking off the ash absentmindedly as he leans closer, letting his lips brush over yours cruelly for only a second, leaving you whining not getting a proper kiss.

A smile dances on his face, still so close to you yet so far away, knowing that it’s this back and forth that’s going to make it all worth it.

“Aren’t I lucky? Got to take my girl out here. Wanted to spoil her rotten, but all she wants to do is watch me.”

“I can do more than just watch.”

Your voice finds strength within its tenderness, wanting to prove to him how much you wanted…needed him right now.

“Yeah?” He challenged, “what did’ya have in mind sweet thing?”

You gulped, letting your palms rest on his thighs, your limbs already preparing themselves to position yourself on your knees in front of him.

“Let me show you instead.” You whispered throatily as if you’d already been wrecked.

He grinned, patting your cheek once more, followed by a peck on the tip of your nose.

“Go ahead, baby.”

His permission is like a symphony to your ears, giving himself to you in a way that only you get to know. No one gets him like this and no one ever will… just you.

Your knees meet the ground, settling between his legs and fingers working immediately.

“So big,” you murmur, hastily undoing his belt while your lips kiss his clothed bulge.

He grunts, throwing his head back weakly, knowing it doesn’t get any better than this. If he could, you and him would move here permanently and forget about the outside world completely.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He’s done playing mean, when you’re showing him so much affection in a way that should be sinful but to him, it’s heavenly.

Your eyes flutter up at him sweetly while your hands reach into his boxers, pulling his length. He watches the way his cock steals your attention, eyes adverting to the hardness that your hands can barely wrap around.

Your thumbs rubbing the leaking pre-cum over the tip and you’re doing him in by placing a kiss right on the head.

You’re not trying to play mean at all, but he can’t help but feel that you are.

Pure perfection right in front of him with your eyes flicking back up to meet his while your lips still rest on his sensitive skin.

The pearlescent seed painting your lips like gloss and all he wants to do to is pull you up and kiss you stupid before fucking you just as dumb.

But he settles, knowing this is what you want and he’ll get his fix in a minute.

“Fuck me.” He seethes, gritting his teeth and holding back on thrusting forward.

Your tongue peeks out, laving underneath his length as you enclose your lips around him for only a second before you pull away with a nice ‘pop’.

“In a bit, baby, let me have my fun.” You mutter, using your saliva and spreading the wetness over his cock with tight strokes, paying special attention to the slit.

He’s having trouble controlling his breathing, the small pudge of his lower stomach moving up and down spastically beneath his shirt proving it to you.

“Take your time sweet girl… I’ll be patient.”

“Hmm, I love you.”

He’s only a millisecond from responding that he loves you more, but you beat him, eyes veering up as your lips kiss the skin above his knee.

“…and I love you too, Stevie.”

He’s gonna fuck you so good when you’re done just to show you how much he loves you and your pussy.

You smile sickly sweet, before going back to work kissing your way back to his hard on. His cock pulses against your lips while you pepper pecks up the thick shaft and there’s a new ferocity occupying his senses the closer you get to what you really want.

“Show me some love, sweet girl.”

He nods, finally forcing the blunt to his lips as you wrap your lips around him and taking him down gradually.

Your head moves up and down, spit pooling around him, coating him in your wetness, leaving the rest of what you can’t fit, glistening.

Each drag of your tongue and skim of your fingers cupping his heavy sack brings him closer to the edge at an alarming rate.

“Fuck…” He blew the smoke out, shaking his head in awe, “your mouth is so good, baby.”

You hum against him, the vibration sending shockwaves up his spine and his cock. Fingers wire through your scalp, tugging mildly to get your eyes up on him in time to see him taking another swig of the blunt knowing it’ll drive you crazy.

“Should’ve known this would turn you on, baby.” He smirks cockily, taking his time to close his eyes and open them back up as he blows the smoke out.

There’s another whine, eyes rolling towards the back of your head with the image of him engrained in your mind.

You should really be scolding him about the health effects of smoking, but all you want to do is please him until the damn thing is gone.

“You just go hot for every little thing I do isn’t that right?” He continues to tease.

Seconds later, with no response given with you too busy and mouth too full, there’s a tap against your cheek, prompting your eyes to open back up.

Hairs that stick to your sweaty forehead are soon pushed away, his fingers knocking your temples with a grin on his face before threading them through your scalp and pulling you off.

“Words baby, c’mon, I know there’s still something up there.”

You clench around nothing, the effect of his words traveling straight to your core and it should be embarrassing that he gets you like this so easily, but you don’t have it in you to care one bit.

You gasp, catching your breath as you rest your cheek against his thigh.

“Y-yeah, you make me go stupid Stevie.”

He can see your hips wigging in the air, bottom raised up high in a position that makes him want to take you like that right here right this second.

He resists knowing he’ll get you in every position you can handle by the end of the night.

Steve’s grip releases from your scalp, falling down to your neck giving it only a slight squeeze before his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

His cock is an obvious weakness, but so are his fingers.

You love them entwined with yours, wrapped around wrists and neck, inside the depth of you, and mostly when they’re in your mouth.

He answers your silent prayers, slipping it past your lips, letting you suck on it as your eyes flicker shut, getting lost in it like it’s as good as his cock.

Your hands don’t stop their movements, working your wrist up and down not too fast, not too slow, but just the way Steve like it. Your tongue working the same pace over his thumb — he can’t believe you’re real and thank God you are.

“You’re a smart girl to everyone else, but when I get you alone, f-fuck, you just forget everything and let me take care of it all don’t ya baby?”

You take a breath, letting his thumb fall from your mouth. “L-love letting go with you.”

His heart feels like it’s on fire the kind that swamps him in flames of all colors and should swallow him whole, but only it drives him crazier for you — you’re the fuel who keeps him burning and the only one who could do him in like this.

An admission that should get him riled up, and it does, but at the same time he knows that your words are a confession — you feel safe with him. Safe enough to trust him in a way you’ve never trusted anyone before.

With Steve, you can let go in more way than the other…but most notably in a way where you can love. Love him wherever you are in the world — in your shared dainty little hometown and out here in the middle of the Mediterranean sea.

He can’t help it, abandoning the stupid cigarette in the ashtray and cupping both cheeks in his hands as he leans down and pushes his lips to yours.

It’s messy and fast, a mixture of his pre-cum and the remnants of your lipgloss a sticky mess between the both of you, yet you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ravishing each other like it’s the end of the world and the only thing you both have on your minds are each other.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” He says between kisses, no fight for dominance in it, just you and him mending together.

“Love my Stevie.” You murmur, clutching your hands around his cock, as his breath falters against you, his hips rising in tandem with your strokes.

“Love letting go with you too, honey. Love spoiling you to death even if it’s just m-me.”

You hate to do it, but you need to knowing he’s closer to the finish line and there’s one place you want the prize the most right now. So you nudge him away with your chin, pulling back and sitting back on your haunches as he falls back into the chair.

“Want your cum, baby… please give it to me.” You beg, voice going up an octave higher with need.

And your sweet boy never denies you anything, not his attention, not his cock, and most definitely not his cum.

“Take it all, baby.”

The costal view sat in front of Steve isn’t the one he’s admiring when a goddess is right before him on her knees worshipping him like this.

A work of art you are taking him down your throat as he sputters out praises from his mouth and spits loads into yours.

It’s only a matter of time before things get hotter and both feel higher than ever before.

“Move baby,” Steve growls in your ear, a handful of your ass in his hands with you now in his lap right where you belong.

The length of your dress hiked up over your hips and the bust of it pooling down your torso with your tits pressed against his shirt.

His length seated deep within you, squeezing him tightly as your arms wrap around his neck and your face burns buried in the juncture between it.

“Ooh, baby…” you whimper, beginning to move up and down with his help.

The two of you in a world of your very own — so alive, so lush.

Steve’s pretty sure your moans are music to his ears, something you always have in you, singing him a sweet melody on the balcony and soon he’ll have you screaming how much you love him.

He’ll be doing the same — after all it’s you he desires, and he’s more than in love.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: your honor, im guilty... of being a whore!!!!!!!! hope you guys like it <3

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3 @claireiscrying @we-out-here-simping @dreamerjj

#munsonsreputation #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington boyfriend #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington fluff

353 notes · View notes

shunshunrika · 9 months

Note

hi! could you do angst 13 and fluff 13 for megumi fushigoro? i noticed he's one of your faves based on your pinned post 💖

you are cute, thank you, kisses for you.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO - GROWING APART

“I wouldn’t hate myself as much as I do now if it weren’t for you, Megumi.” you told him, your hands violently fidgeting together. It was hard. It was really hard to get it out of your system, but you had to. It had been a year now. A year of dwindling communication, a year of scarce appearances, a year of your friendship growing apart.

At first you didn't understand what was going on. Why did Megumi suddenly conjure up different plans when you'd set a time to meet up. Why'd he take days to text back. Why was he slowly losing his smile every time he saw you? You were convinced you had done something wrong. Something to irk him, something that rubbed him the wrong way.

Why else would your best friend of so many years suddenly want to stay away from you?

"What do you mean? Did something happen?" Megumi asked, nonchalantly, as if he didn't know what you were talking about.

"Did something happen?" you repeated his question rhetorically.

The weight of your unspoken words hung heavy in the air, each passing second amplifying the ache in your chest. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you struggled to find the courage to bare your soul to Megumi.

"Can't you see, Megumi?" you choked out, your voice trembling with a mix of sadness and frustration. "The distance between us, the way you've been pulling away... It's tearing me apart. I've spent nights agonizing over what I did wrong, why you've changed. I really wouldn't hate myself as much as I do now if it weren't for you. Even when I know it's your fault."

Megumi's eyes widened, realization dawning on his face. His usually composed demeanor cracked, revealing a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. "Y/N, I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to hurt you. It wasn't about you at all."

Confusion mingled with the pain inside you, and you couldn't help but question his words. "Then what was it about, Megumi? Why did you push me away?"

He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to find the right words. "It's not that I wanted to push you away, Y/N. It's just... I'm in .. I'm in-" he gulped and as his face turned tomato red.

"I think I like you. No, I am in love with you." he finally said.

The world seemed to stand still as Megumi's confession hung in the air, his words reverberating in your ears. The weight of his unspoken feelings now matched the intensity of your own, creating a bittersweet harmony that resonated deep within your heart.

"You... You love me?" you whispered, your voice laced with disbelief and a glimmer of hope.

Megumi nodded, his emerald eyes never leaving yours. "But you already know. You know what happens to people I love. You saw what happened to Tsumiki."

"I can't afford this love Y/N. I am cursed to be by myself forever." You could hear the agonizing pain in his voice as he uttered those words.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out, your hand gently cupping Megumi's face. "Megumi," you whispered, your voice filled with compassion.

Megumi's eyes flickered with a mix of hope and despair, his heart torn between the love he felt for you and the fear of losing you.

"What if something happens to you? How will I live with myself after that?"

Megumi's grip tightened around your hand, his touch seeking solace in your presence. "Y/N, I'm scared," he admitted, his voice trembling. "Scared of losing you, scared of the pain that might come."

"I understand. I really do." you said, caressing his head.

"I will wait then." you say finally, placing your head on his chest. You chose the right place to have this conversation. The rooftop of your old middle school where you and him used to visit frequently. This place was special to the two of you. Overlooking the vast expanse of Tokyo under the starry night sky, you gazed into Megumi's eyes.

"I will wait till you can freely be yourself again."

"W-We might never see each other again. I might die in action. What then?" he says. You have never seen him this nervous before. your calm and composed Megumi, falling to his knees in front of a destiny he can't control.

"Then let's enjoy this night to the fullest. If that's all we will ever have" you say, sorrow painting your voice.

“I don’t care if I don’t sleep tonight as long as I’m with you.” you add, leaning into him, wishing that, if not in this world, in another world you two will be together forever.

85 notes · View notes

sisterofficerlucychen · 1 year

Note

chenford + "look at me"

“Look at me.”

Hesitation lingers throughout her body as she fails to move. Every fiber in her being is aching to react, to meet his gaze and find the words that have been left unspoken. There’s so much to say, so much she wants to say to him except she can’t. Fear consumes her, an uncertainty that makes it easier to retreat than to move forward. He’s laid it all on the line, so clearly and simply that part of her wonders how it all became so entangled in the first place. He loves her. He loves her. So why isn’t it enough?

“Lucy.”

The pain behind his voice is evident, the way it’s threatening to crack and she doesn’t have to look up to know just how much she’s breaking his heart right now. She’s heard that desperation in his voice once before. Back when they meant nothing to each other, before she realized there so was much more to him than met the eye. When he was a husband pleading at his wife, when he ran into Isabel and so desperately still wanted to save her. It felt like a lifetime ago, like a memory that belonged to someone else because that Tim and the one before her did not feel like the same person.

“Tim.”

Somehow she’s able to say his name and that simple action surprises her enough to be able to meet his gaze. There’s a heaviness that weighs in her chest that pairs with the lump in her throat and stinging in her eyes as she fights back tears. He’s staring at her with the same expression, trying to remain composed though she can see right through it. The way he’s also holding back tears, the way his lip curls into a frown, how his shoulders drop in defeat. He looks so incredibly vulnerable and broken that she has to stop herself from wrapping her arms around him. She hates herself for doing this to him, for breaking them apart before they even had a chance to be a ‘them’.

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I—“

She can’t say she doesn’t love him back because it’s a lie. One that she thought she’d become convincingly good at denying but really was just Lucy lying to herself rather than the world around her. He knows she loves her, there’s no point in denying it because it’s become too big to ignore. She’s shown him time and time again just how much she loves him, actions and words that have held as much weight as an “I love you”. She’s seen him at his lowest, been beside him through the hardships and struggles. There has never been a doubt in her mind that that’s where she’s belonged every time.

Except that felt so much different than this. Helping him through Isabel’s addiction, being beside him as he confronted the trauma his father had put him in, staying by his bedside after his surgery — all of that she could easily akin to being a good friend, being a good person. The difference between then and now was that he hadn’t been in love with her. At least she thinks he wasn’t because of how unsure she is of when she fell in love with him.

It happened so seamlessly and without warning that it’s why she’s so damn scared because she doesn’t know when it happened. It’s what has her running, the reason why she’s breaking both their hearts because of how foreign the feeling is that she doesn’t know how to process it. It’s unlike anything she’s ever experienced and she knows she’s never felt this way for anyone else before. No one has mattered as much as Tim does.

The stakes are so high that it’s impossible for her to feel like she can jump and safely land. It’s so incredibly frustrating that this is when her mind and body decide to betray her, that instead of being able to say those three little words back, she’s suddenly emotionally stunted. It’s impossible for her to make sense of how she’s able to be such an open book and yet with this, she shut off. Even more so, that she knows why and isn’t able to vocalize it to help him understand because she can see it in his eyes, the way he’s forming one thought with another and concluding that she’s rejecting him.

Maybe not an accurate assumption but given Lucy’s reaction and reluctance to even respond, a fair one. Is she rejecting him? Truthfully, she’s unsure. The paralyzing fear that’s taken over has her thinking and acting irrationally. She’s trying to make sense that they in love and figure out why it’s so terrifying, that she can’t move past it. There’s so much to gain and yet her fear has her focused on what she could lose.

“I love you but I can’t."

It feels like an eternity later that she’s able to find words except they feel more like a goodbye than anything else because she doesn’t wait for him to respond before she turns to walk away. she’s letting him go much like he once did and it’s as she walks away that she realizes his was a selfless act, to set her free and let her grow; whereas she’s doing it for selfish reasons, to keep herself safe despite how much it physically hurts to walk away. somehow determining that it’s easier to suppress it all than to take a chance at something real.

#the rookie #tim bradford #lucy chen #chenford #fanfic #me to me: bitch wtf is wrong with you #i feel like i chose angst and violence and for what??#i had midnight rain (piano version) on repeat - the one on tiktok - and i fully blame that for this #i hope this makes sense aokdajfd

31 notes · View notes

darkestspring · 1 year

Note

It’s been a while since I spammed you so here’s some angst bc I’m on my period and sad. Sweet wife goes into labour three months before she was supposed to, and Maegor and Visenya are not in the castle. By the time Maegor rushes in the room, he’s faced with his wife’s maids in tears as she weeps on the floor, cradling a baby much too small, much too silent. As soon as he’s by her side, wrapping his arm around her, he sees their baby, a tiny boy who’s covered in scales, with what he thinks are wings sticking from his back. It finally hits him that their baby is dead, he feels his own eyes starting to water as he holds them both close.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been there, crying on the floor, mourning for the child they never got to meet. Only when Visenya gently rubs his shoulder, he realises it must’ve been hours. He didn’t even hear her come in. While he starts to compose himself, his poor darling is inconsolable. Maegor thinks the sight of his beloved wife, in her bloody shift, weeping over their baby, will be burned into his mind forever. He vows to never leave her side again. He can never let her go through this pain alone. Somehow, they get up, Visenya helping them all the way, preparing the babe for a Valyrian funeral. He helps his wife bathe, both of them deathly silent, as if no words can come out. The sight of his usually happy and cheery wife, now struggling to keep herself from falling apart in front of their children, breaks him in a way he never knew was possible. And their children, oh their poor children, still too young to understand death and why their mother was weeping and why Balerion was roaring with a sorrow they’ve never heard from a dragon before and why their father, who they didn’t think was even able to cry, had a few tears on his cheeks. With his arm around his wife, who could barely stand on her own, he took in a shaky breath, before a stern “Dracarys”, squeezing his wife’s shoulder, and then fully embracing her. Even Visenya was moved to tears, as she held onto her grandchildren protectively.

That night Maegor helps her undress, rubbing her arms gently to soothe her.

“I just feel so much sadness that I’m just numb. This doesn’t feel real, it’s like a bad dream that I know I cannot wake up from.” her soft voice now hoarse from all the crying. “And what do we say to the children? Maegor, would they understand? They’re still so young, I- I’m not sure what to say.” she sighs and falls into his warm embrace.

“Mother has heard of this happening before, a dragon birth, but they’re extremely rare, so most believe it to be legend. It runs in the lines of dragon lords, my love, it’s- it’s my fault.” his voice almost cracks. “I should’ve never left your side, not even for an hour, I’m so sorry you had to go through this all alone. I wish I could take all the pain from you, to go through it so you wouldn’t have to. I’m so sorry.” he whispers, holding her even closer in a tight embrace.

“How could you have known Maegor? We’ve had six healthy children that all came a bit late, you couldn’t have known this time the babe would come early. I wouldn’t have thought it either. I don’t blame you for performing your duties in the kingdom, or for this. Not for a second.” she leans back to look at him, placing her small hands on his face. “I do wish you were next to me, but you were there as soon as you could, when I needed you most.” she said softly, wiping the tears he did not notice he was shedding, before placing a kiss on his lips.

They stay like that for a while, in each other’s embrace, exhausted from the terrible day. It’s her voice that breaks the silence.

“I think we should talk to them together. Tomorrow?” she asks, earning a nod.

“Of course, my love.” he says, placing a kiss on her temple.

She let out a deep sigh full of sorrow.

“I’ve always known we had to have the difficult conversations with them, but I never thought… not this soon… not like this… not their brother…” she felt her husband’s strong arms pull her into his comforting embrace, rubbing the back of her head. “Our baby Maegor… our poor baby… I- I didn’t even hear him cry, or feel him move…” she felt hot tears starting to escape her eyes, and she let them. “It was unlike the others, it was like I was on fire from the inside, like he was clawing to come out of me, but- but when he did… he wasn’t moving Maegor. He was so still. He was too quiet!” she couldn’t restrain her sobs.

Maegor could only hold her. He wished with all his heart to take the pain away from her, but it was impossible. The grief they were feeling couldn’t be suppressed, or stopped. They had to go through this together. Through all the pain. Just the thought that she had to go through it without him there next to her, to hold her, to comfort her, filled him with a rage he never felt before. He wanted to scream, to fight, to tear whoever caused this hurt to his love apart. But how do you kill a curse that ran through his veins? One that he gave to her to bear? One that took his son away?

At some point they fell asleep, still in each other’s arms, clinging onto one another for dear life. Maegor opened his eyes when he felt the sun graze his face. He could see his wife was already awake, an absent minded expression in her eyes, while she looked up at the ceiling, but mostly at nothing. They had another long day ahead of them, but as long as they had each other, they could face it. Together. 🍼

why would you make me cry like this? im trying to eat my cake in peace!!!!

#🍼anon

23 notes · View notes

a-scaly-troublemaker · 2 years

Text

The Ignition of the Third Pyre

Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan had gone too far.

But neither of them knew that yet.

As the building's supports fell, Red Son rushed to pull his darling out of the way before the rubble could strike him, then rose to his feet, weak and disoriented from being struck by the rubble in place of his dear.

"Xiaotian, are you alright?"

"I'm still getting used to you calling me that, but yeah. It gives me whiplash to hear you say my actual name and not-"

"Noodle boy. I know." Red Son rolled his eyes with a sigh. He picked MK up, trying to stand properly, then fell just as quickly.

"Red?!" MK exclaimed, surprised.

The fire Demon only chuckled weakly, then coughed up blood.

MK nearly shrieked, but kept quiet to avoid giving away his position to his partner's parents.

"R-Red-! Please, you'll be okay..."

"...as long as you're alright... I'll be fine, I'm a Demon." Red Son scoffed, but his voice had cracked, causing MK's eyes to water.

"Red... stay awake for me, will you?"

"No promises... noodle boy..." Red Son struggled to stay conscious as his partner laid down with him, not wanting to leave him, even in times so dire. Red's consciousness faded, but the warmth of the fire Demon kept MK calm as his eyes closed into darkness, wrapped up in his partner's arms.

Mei groaned as she was struck by Princess Iron Fan's blade, slammed into a far wall. She slid down the wall into a heap, then got up as best she could, but she was too weak to stand at her full height from how unpleasant the battle had been so far. She was knocked over by a shadow bolt from Princess Iron Fan, who was a skilled black mage.

However.

The lotus hairpin that she had been given by a dear friend was broken by the blast, and all Hell was unleashed when its properties were revealed. The lotus petals that had composed it scattered around the area, seemingly multiplying until there was a light coating of them on the battlefield... a larger cloud appeared out of the sheet of petals, tight-knit in an orb, until it opened in the form of a larger lotus...

And out of it, stepped the Lotus Deity.

The Lotus Deity examined his surroundings while the Demon Bull King paused in fear, even though the Lotus Prince's full might had not yet been revealed to him.

As Nezha finished taking in their surroundings, finished registering everything that had gone on, he dropped his spear, doubling over as pain wracked the Lotus Deity's body. Their eyes had widened, and the Demon Bull King approached, not know the source of the deity's burden, but wanting to make due on it nonetheless.

"GET BACK." Nezha's voice hissed, with an unnatural tinge to it, full of restrained fury and malice.

Demon Bull King stepped back, sweat on his contorted brow, as Nezha's hair tips began to glow vividly, as if burning.

"...what is this sorcery?" The Demon Bull King dared to ask.

"...you were there... I... forgive me, old friend, I can't hold it... the third pyre has been lit."

Nezha stood up, and moments later, began to walk towards the Demon Bull King. His head was lowered, and although he was unarmed, the tendrils of flame on the edges of his hair caused the Demon Lord to draw back from the Celestial with every step the Guardian Deity took. Every footstep seemed tuned to a song that they alone could hear. The Lotus Deity's hair began to rise... and then he lunged, in a streak of living fire, concealed barely within the pink and light blue-green flames. The Second Demon Lord barely withstood the strike.

Princess Iron Fan watched in horror as the Celestial rose into the air, repeatedly striking the Demon Lord before them. What they lacked in speed, the Deity made up for in sheer, raw power. Every blast released a thunderous roar of fire and noise, audible from Flower Fruit Mountain's peak.

It wasn't long before the Monkey King smashed into the Third Pyre, attempting to hold him off.

"Nezha! You're still my best friend, so wake up, bud!"

The God of War's fury had reached a fever pitch, and he bore his teeth, then threw Sun Wukong aside. As the Guardian Deity approached Demon Bull King once more, they broke Princess Iron Fan's fiery glaive, incinerating it in pink and light green Samadhi fire, to prevent her from stopping them.

"I'll burn you alive for your sins, as I was burned." (Mythos reference.)

But before the normally stoic, now vengeful Lotus God could do so, arms wrapped around their upper body.

"...it's okay, big brother... it's okay... I'm okay... MK's okay... Tang, Pigsy, Jin, Yin, Sandy, Mo, we'll be okay. Macaque is okay. The Monkey King is okay. We're all alive, Nezha... so don't take my parents' lives from them... please..."

As the tears fell onto the Lotus Deity's armor, the fire still seethed, but the wrathful Deity only stood stock still with Red Son's arms around him, staring dead in the Demon Bull King's eyes. The fires began to recede after many tense moments, and as they did, tears began to form in Nezha's eyes as the vivid glow of pink faded.

"I'm... glad..." He collapsed, nearly taking Red Son with him, if it weren't for the Demon's sharp reflexes. He let go before Nezha could pass out, and it was then that Red Son realized the Samadhi flames had burned the Third Pyre's body severely. He sighed and carefully picked up the Deity.

"You don't know how to handle your Samadhi fire yet, do you."

"I can't let it out, it's too strong..." Nezha replied in a hoarse, weakened voice.

"Don't hold it in. It'll only become more dangerous the longer you restrain it. It's like trying to restrain forest fire. I thought you knew this, you're older than I am."

"Well..."

"...the Jade Emperor would be mad at you."

Nezha nodded weakly, forcing a smile. He coughed up smoke from his flames, sighing.

"...we all need to get to a hospital... or just to Wukong's home. He'll take care of us."

Red Son's brother at heart nodded.

He handed Nezha to Sandy, who was still trying to take care of everyone caught in the crossfire.

"Take care of my brother. I have business to attend to."

"Alright..."

Nezha looked back at Red Son with concern, then sighed and resigned himself to being carried away by Sandy.

Meanwhile, Red Son approached his parents, and for once...

He got right up in his father's face.

"YOU ASSHOLE, HOW COULD YOU BE SO INSENSITIVE?! I'VE BEEN OUT HERE ON A DATE, SPENDING TIME WITH THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, MY SISTER AT HEART, AND MY BROTHER IN ARMS! HOW COULD YOU BE SO CALLOUS AND CRUEL?!"

Red Son's voice was so loud that it cracked the pavement. His parents stepped backwards, stricken with fear.

"...you should be afraid of me. There are three pyres, and all three are lit. The third has been lit because of your insensitivity. I hope you're proud of yourselves, Demon Bull King, Princess Iron Fan."

His words, and his blue fire, deterred them from arguing back, and Red Son left to carry his s/o out of the rubble once he was sure that the others would be alright. He spat in his parents' general direction, growling, then went to the hospital to rejoin the group.

He left his parents with their thoughts, and guilt finally began to gnaw at them.

They'd gone too far.

#three pyres au #big brother nezha #nezha #spicynoodlesshipping #lego monkie kid red son #lego monkie kid mk #third lotus prince #lmk au #monkie kid au #lego monkie kid au #lego monkie kid #qi xiaotian #long xiaojiao #lmk mei #lmk red son #lmk mk

54 notes · View notes

radellama · 8 months

Note

13, 18 (something from Men of Mystics!), 29, and 36!

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Hmm... I feel like the hardest and easiest thing is writing characters uniquely. In bigger projects, I care about the characters and put a lot of effort into making them feel like they have depth and are themselves - butttttt also it's hard to not make everyone sound like me. I think the effort shines through, but the social aspects of characters is really difficult for me, esp when I want them to come across a certain way

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

(WAUGH I MISS MEN OF MYSTICS SO I'LL GIVE A PREVIEW OF VERY FAR INTO THE FUTURE)

"Well aren't you just a bundle of contradiction." Flea mused.

"Pardon?" Harland asked.

Flea sauntered up to harland, circling around him as he spoke.

"A friend to both sides of the war." He swatted harlands hair from his shoulder, watching it fall as harland avoided eye contact. "A pacifist whose work has made weapons."

Harland opened his mouth to defend himself, but flea dragged his finger across his chest. Harland couldn't help but get distracted as the generals nail tugged at his collar.

"I don't make weapons." He said, unable to hide the slight waver in his voice.

Flea pouted at him condescendingly. "You may not make them, but would they exist without you?"

Harland clenched his jaw.

"Even when you fight-"

"I don't fight." Harland interrupted.

"EVEN WHEN YOU FIGHT," Flea continued, "you are offensively defensive."

Flea smiled, enjoying Harland struggling to keep himself composed. He stood in front of him, tracing his jawline. "What a contradictory mess of a man…”

SO.... This is one of the core moments for harland that I wanted to get right... So here's the draft of it so far lol. I wanted this confrontation in particular to not only question Harlands actions and involvement in the war, but also to show how his character is starting to fracture.

The initial conception of harland was just to give Magus an epic boyfriend to be gay with, but as I also wanted it to be a love letter to his character, as Harland developed more I realised that the ONLY way I wanted to write a romance like this, would be to explore the good AND bad of both Harland and Magus. It's a little difficult to explain, but I want the two men to rub off on each other (😏) and slowly corrupt until they need to question their very core and ideals. Like, think about it... A war lord and a pacifist being together is.. So strange. I knew early on in creating this story that harland would start off nieve and relatively sheltered in his point of view, and that you as the reader would get hints towards the fact that harland is an unreliable narrator and that it will become more apparent when he starts to crack. Harland will become Magus and Magus will become Harland, they will corrupt each other, they should've been more like each other, they should've stayed themselves. It's an all consuming romance that lasts beyond their time as a couple. And in this passage it only feels appropriate that Flea, a master of illusions, is the one to force him to see reality. But, yknow, in the provocative way he likes to do because it's just sooooo easy to get harland all flustered and it's really funny

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

Literally anything and everything babbbeeeyyy!! I strongly believe that if you limit your inspiration and over think them, you're fucking yourself over. I feel like being inspired and letting inspiration come are different things, and you can't force either of them lol, you just gotta let it come as it will.

When I'm struggling to think of things, I'll often try to work backwards or go through inspiration things I've collected. It really helps to collect it all and keep it somewhere you can access easily enough, so you can go through it to try jog your memory. I'm sure some people have noticed that I tag a lot of interesting stuff for my characters Abe and Orc, and that's a pretty good example of what I mean by not limiting inspiration lol... Curating stuff in your mind can be really helpful cause you learn to look at and think of what parts inspired you, and how you wanna work on that inspiration with your skills and strengths.

ALSO another thing that helps when I'm feeling pretty dry is to just spitball and be curious. Curiosity is pretty straight forward, just ask questions and try to learn more about stuff and deepen your understanding of things, who knows what kinds of things you can be inspired by!! My st au is inspired by star trek and chrono trigger and mushrooms and hive minded parasites. Abe and Orc is inspired by the interesting things that happen in the mundane, by staircases and history and cutlery and genitals and the weird thresholds between strangers and friends. These all kinda sound disconnected but like.. They're so linked! Whenever the stories get to parts where you see how they're connected I hope you'll remember how strangely my brain collects and curates insp haha.

Like... Who knows!? Maybe you'll end up inspired listening to your friend talk about their dads worm farm, or while you're absently mindedly catching the bus home, or when you're passively watching a documentary on household appliances in Victorian England - things you'd never think you could relate to what you want to work on. A varied creative diet is important, and I also think recognising the fact that things that DON'T inspire you (ie, that actively pisses me off / feel negative insp for this) can be just as helpful as things that do >:)

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

I know that I know nothing... Soooo... Who give a shit.

I think a lot of people get caught up in like... 'I don't know [subject matter] so I shouldn't write it!!!1!" BUT it's contradictory when the same kinds of people write escapist fantasies about being rich and having it all. You can draw some very real and evocative scenarios from transforming your lived experiences into fiction and explore them- but I don't think people should discount that we KNOW we want to write things bigger than ourselves... I try to follow more of a "I KNOW when it feels good" for whatever purpose I'm writing for. If I wrote exclusively in what I "know," there'd probably be too much repetitive and boring shit because I only "know" so much

Send weird writers asks

#asks #darksideofthemamon #THANK YOUUUUU THESE WERE GREAT Q'S TO PICK AND I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY #brought to you by it being 5 am and i couldn't sleep so yee haw

3 notes · View notes

drsth7 · 2 years

Text

Premise: Aiden & Hakon got married on impulse around the time of Lawan's Nightrunner initiation. Unfortunately, when making sure Lawan escaped at the end of the game, Hakon took a bad hit to the head and got amnesia :(. Also Hakon whittles, because I decided so.

This is in no way intended to be an accurate depiction of amnesia - it's fanfic babey. Also some of you who are on the discord (iykyk) have seen this before, but like months ago, so apologies for making you see it again.

"Hey, Hakon."

Hakon's attention is pulled away from the half-finished carving he'd been studying. He tucks it back in the pouch he'd found it in to greet the Pilgrim hovering in the doorway.

"Hey," he says, hesitating as he tries to place the name. "It's Aiden, right?"

Things have changed in the City, but enough has stayed the same that he's been able to get by for the most part. The main sticking point is the man before him, the newcomer his brain just can't seem to keep a hold of.

Aiden's mouth twitches into a trembling smile, though his eyes remain sad. "Yeah, I'm Aiden. Good job."

From anyone else, Hakon thinks it might feel condescending. There's something so desperately sad about the kid though, that it's impossible for him to take offence. Especially when he knows he might have forgotten the next time they meet.

The silence stretches out between them. Hakon watches Aiden's throat work as he struggles to find the words before he can't take it anymore. If the Pilgrim won't start, maybe Hakon can help him out.

"So what brings you here today?" He winces at the sound of his own voice. It's too loud, too falsely cheerful, and from the way the Pilgrim flinches, he thinks the same.

The Pilgrim (Aiden, Aiden, Hakon reminds himself) chews his lip for a moment. Hakon has a flash of sense memory, chapped lips pressed to his own, to his cheek, but it’s gone before he can truly register it.

He doesn't have a chance to chase the memory either.

"I wanted to return this," Aiden says, his words coming out stilted. Hakon raises an eyebrow, curious, as the Pilgrim pulls a chain from under his shirt. He fiddles with it for a moment, taking something off it before tucking the chain away again.

Their fingers brush as Hakon accepts the item, Aiden flinching away from the contact. Hakon bites back the apology that sits on his tongue, instead looking at whatever the Pilgrim gave him.

It's a ring, an unadorned silver band, a little more scuffed than he last remembers it. Hakon frowns as he turns it over carefully.

"I was going to give this to my next wife," he murmurs, glancing up to catch the Pilgrim's eye.

Hakon watches the sharp bob of the other man's throat as he swallows and gives another shaky smile. A muscle twitches in his cheek before he lets it drop again.

"Yeah," the Pilgrim says, voice cracking. He clears his throat, composing himself. "Yeah, I know. You, um, asked me to hold onto it. For safe keeping."

"Oh." Something about that doesn't sit right with Hakon. He remembers waking up with a ring on his finger, the weight still new but comfortable. Lawan had laughed in Hakon's face when he'd asked if she was his wife. She had promised him that he didn't have any more wives, though she didn't explain why he had put it on in the first place. But here was the Pilgrim, giving him a ring he had assumed lost.

He should know what it means, the answer is on the tip of his tongue but his brain refuses to make the right connections. All the pieces were right there, but for the life of him, he can't seem to put them together. Hakon has improved considerably since he woke up, but that just makes these moments of disconnect even more infuriating.

"Thanks," Hakon says, swallowing his frustration. He turns the ring over again, thumb catching on an unexpected edge on its inner surface. Turning it to face the light, he can see the letters AH crudely scratched into the metal.

"Right, okay then." The Pilgrim coughs sharply, rolling his shoulders to disperse some of the tension there. "I just wanted do to that before... Anyway. I'll leave you to it, I guess."

He hesitates a moment longer, before sighing. "And if you see Lawan," the Pilgrim winces when he says the woman's name, "could you maybe... not mention that you've seen me?"

Hakon blinks in surprise, huffing with amusement. "Managed to piss off our lovely Lawan, eh? Good luck with that, my friend, she's a beast when she's on the warpath."

Aiden laughs (Aiden, Aiden, remember that). "You don't have to tell me that. She packs a mean punch."

A smile lingers on his lips, the first one Hakon has seen on him that doesn't look like it physically pains him. He's surprised by how deeply he wants to be the one to put it there, how much he wants to see that smile, hear that laugh every day.

(A few more pieces slot into the puzzle in his mind.)

Aiden shakes his head, and the smile slips away. "I'd better get going," he says. He turns to the door, glancing back at Hakon over his shoulder. His eyes look suspiciously wet before he turns away again. "You look after yourself, okay?"

Hakon tips his head in a tiny nod. "You too, Pilgrim. I'll see you around."

"Sure," he agrees, voice hoarse. "Bye Hakon."

#dying light 2 #aiden x hakon #drsth writes #unfinished #unedited #getting frustrated with my other stuff so have some old stuff

28 notes · View notes

chaossmagic · 3 years

Text

WELL MAYBE HE WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU

AND IF HE WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU THEN HE WAS WRONG ABOUT ME

#personal #it's the way his voice cracks on 'me' as he struggles to stay composed when he's seconds away from crying #because he's just so scared that he's not worth it #not worth the time or the effort or worth forgiveness #or love or acceptance #and he has so many insecurities deep down about his capacity for goodness #like steve believed in him and he believed in sam #and if his belief in sam was misplaced then maybe his belief in him was too #and that brings everything bucky has fought so hard to accept about himself crashing down #and it just breaks my FUCKING heart #for both them #tfatws rewatch

5 notes · View notes

elysianslove · 3 years

Note

I'm so sorry, is this how you send requests? It's my first time, idk 😭 If it's okay, i would request a part 2 of yuuji sharing an s/o with sukuna, but this time the reader is like in danger! danger?! And sukuna goes like totally crazy or smth :)

the way that post blew up i am still so confused at the amount of notes it has but omg thank you so much for requesting this and i’m so sorry it’s late!!! i also wrote hc’s and i hope that’s okay :) <3

we’ve already established that it took sukuna a long time to even come to accept his feelings for you, let alone agree to be in a relationship with you, and to share you with someone.

the thing is, sukuna, although experienced with women/men, is inexperienced when it comes to relationships. he doesn’t expect to feel the way he does whenever he gets the chance to spend time with you, whenever you ask yuuji to switch with him so you could take him out on a date for a change, when there’s an accidental switch between them as you’re in the bath, and all of a sudden he finds your back pressed to his chest and you’re sighing so softly as you relax against him and his arms are wrapped around your middle and your hands are squeezing at his forearms. or whenever you’re about to head to bed and it’s usually yuuji that cuddles you when you’re sleeping since he’s the one out of the two that actually requires sleep, but you sit on your knees and cup yuuji’s face and ask him to switch. and when they do, you press a kiss to sukuna’s mouth, hands so gentle on his face, and whisper goodnight to him and it feels as if he’s in a trance.

so really, the concept of falling for someone is very foreign to him, and even more so, getting attached to a person.

the first time anything happened to you and he had found himself reacting abnormally was when you were cutting up vegetables with yuuji. sukuna lets you enjoy your time with him, especially when it comes to cooking, because personally, he would be very bored and he doesn’t have the talent for it either, opposite to yuuji, who enjoys it so much and manages to make it fun for you too. as you’re cutting up the vegetables, accidentally, you slice at your finger, and instinctively you hiss at the pain, muttering, “ow, ow, ow,” underneath your breath as you clutch at it. there’s more blood than you expected, but it’s not so deep that you’ll need stitches. but at the sound of your voice mumbling and hissing in pain, at the scent of blood from you, sukuna emerged from yuuji without a second thought, and he rushes over to you. he calls you an idiot, scrubbing away at the blood underneath the rush of water, and he seems so angry, but god, it’s not at you.

he hated even the thought of you being hurt. he’s not even sure why it bothers him as much, but he later on figured that it was all part of loving someone. no matter the cut, the bruise, the scar, the pain and the hurt, he’ll fuss over you incredibly, and he’ll seem so irritated, making it as if you were a nuisance, a burden, but you can see through it so easily, because over time, his feelings for you became more and more obvious, and it was harder and harder to hide.

it’s not until he finds out you’re in a life threatening situation does he realize that— maybe he really does love you. maybe you’re not a burden, but a blessing. maybe you’re not holding him down, holding him back, but rather pushing him forward, encouraging him. and when he realizes that you love him, you really, really do, he falls for you even more.

the situation doesn’t entirely matter honestly. yuuji had been informed of it, and even he was having trouble staying composed. the younger boy was trying his best for you, because being off the rails wouldn’t have helped you in any way, and he knew that. the moment he’d heard the words of you being in danger, he struggled so much against yuuji, trying to shift. “i’m stronger, faster, less vulnerable. let me go, idiot.” but yuuji insists against it. he can’t risk it. not with you.

but when yuuji sees you, sees the state you’re in, sees how much they’ve hurt you, the bastards standing so smugly next to you as if you were a token for them to show off. ‘look how well we can afford to hurt your lover,’ their eyes are saying, and yuuji’s resolve crumbles. he can hurt them just as bad, he can hurt them worse, but what sukuna lacks in basic morality, yuuji doesn’t, and he knows it will hold him back. besides, sukuna can hurt them much worse.

so he switches.

there’s a deafening roar the moment the markings appear on yuuji’s skin, as sukuna takes over. he sees red, and he can’t think of anything besides the fact that you’re here, in front of him, but you’re in such bad shape, so bruised and broken and battered, not the way you’re meant to be. there are tears streaming down your face, and your body shakes and trembles and flinches, your chest heaving with sobs and he hates it. he hates it so much. he hated the small cut you’d given yourself back then and he hates this now.

he doesn’t spare the men. he kills them, but not slowly, because that’d be too merciful. yuuji watches from the sidelines within sukuna, his throat closing up at the sight of the men being murdered, and he wants to feel remorse, but he can’t, not with the state you’re in. and the moment they’re gone, the moment sukuna’s ripped their limbs apart and their screams died down, it’s yuuji that falls to his knees before you, grouping you in an embrace and holding you to his chest, chanting by your ear, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.”

yuuji’s hands are too shaky to bandage you up, so sukuna does it for him, cleaning at your wounds and brushing as soft as he can against your bruises and wrapping you in bandages. he scolds you the whole time, telling you you ought to be more careful, you ought to have him change you into a curse somehow, to make you less vulnerable, more invincible, but there’s a tightness to voice, a strain, a crack, and he refuses to meet your eyes, in fear of the fact that if he were to do so, he would fall apart before you. sukuna hadn’t been scared, scared for you or your life. he was determined in bringing you back home alive, determined to have you sleep in your bed and wake up and make breakfast with yuuji.

but for a moment, even if it were a split second, he had thought of what it would be like if he were to lose you. if you left him. the world was awful enough as it is, coming from a curse himself, the king of curses. he can’t imagine just how much duller it would be without you.

yuuji is the one to push you into bed, to lift a glass of water to your lips, to hold you to his chest. his hands still shake as he cradles you, as he holds you as gently as he can, and when you fall asleep, he whispers out in the dark, “i’m never going to lose you. i promise.”

and sukuna replies, “you don’t have to worry about that. never.”

and he means it.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori x reader x sukuna #yuuji x reader x sukuna

1K notes · View notes

stupid-sloot-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could I request nsfw yandere headcanon/pet play kink for “Please just stop! I’ll do whatever you want me to. Anything but this.” and “I’ll fuck you over and over until you spread your legs when you see me.” with Grand Duke Leuvis?

Leuvis/F!Darling: "I'll fuck you over and over until you spread your legs when you see me."

TW: noncon, pet play, tentacles/monsterfucking

____ had already been wary of Leuvis's strange tone when he'd finished bathing her--something she already hated, being stripped and fondled while he washed her. She wasn't a demon, but she was still an adult capable of something so simple. When he'd dried her off and she'd reached for her clothes, Leuvis shook his finger and smiled at her through his mask. "Ah ah," he chided. "I have something else to put on you."

____ clutched the towel wrapped around her and tried in vain to find any sign of emotion behind his mask. What was he planning? She knew better than to refuse or try to get him to change his mind outright, so for now she had to play along and hope she could win his favor later on. "I see...what did you have in mind, my Lord?"

Leuvis rested one bony hand on her shoulder and took what looked like a length of ribbon out of his coat pocket. When he dangled it in front of her, she realized that it was a leash with a silk collar attached to the end. There was a small golden medallion as well on the collar, engraved with Leuvis's crest. When ____'s eyes widened, Leuvis let out a low chuckle. "You look surprised. Don't you think it suits you?" He brushed her cheek with his finger and held the collar up to clasp around her neck before she could react. "A lovely collar for an even lovelier pet."

____ felt the cold metal and soft silk against her skin, and a shiver ran up her spine as Leuvis leered down at her. He'd never had her wear anything like this before. The line of the leash leading from his hand to her throat left a sick, uneasy feeling in her chest. She WASN'T his pet. She wasn't some stupid animal, lower than him and meant to be owned. Even if she was a captive, she still had her dignity, dammit. "It...it's very luxurious," ____ said carefully. She smiled shyly at him. "What nightgown should I wear with it?"

Leuvis moved his free hand and wrapped it around ____'s waist. "You don't have to worry about that," he replied. "Tonight, you won't wear anything. I want to see how adorable you look with just this and nothing else."

____ froze and stared up at him. She had gotten used to being stripped and bathed by him, but she'd never been naked around him aside from that. She couldn't. She couldn't be so exposed like that, with just a collar around her neck like a dog! Before she could open her mouth to object or come up with some excuse, Leuvis tore ____'s towel off of her body; the fluffy terry-cloth that had been keeping her warm and feeling secure fell to the ground, and goosebumps immediately raised on her body. She immediately moved to cover her breasts and cross her legs, but Leuvis tsk-ed and pulled the leash forward to make her stumble forward.

"Don't hide yourself from me," he said sternly. "I'm your master, and you are my pet." He felt her tense and heard her let out a small gasp as he thumbed over one of her pert nipples. "Do pets wear clothes, my dear?"

____ clenched her fists and felt her face heat up as Leuvis touched her. "O-Only if their master dresses them up," she replied tersely, looking away from him.

Leuvis moved his hand to play with her other breast. "And do good pets say 'no' to their master?"

____ bit the inside of her cheek and she remained silent. She couldn't just lie down and take this treatment. Even if she knew it could have painful consequences, she wasnt going to let Leuvis have his way completely. She pointedly kept her mouth shut and pressed her lips together, refusing to give him an answer. Leuvis cocked his head slightly and pressed the edge of one of his sharp fingers against her nipple. "Surely you know the answer, don't you dear?" His voice was dangerously soft.

____ felt tears welling up in her eyes from Leuvis's finger and from her struggle to stand her ground. She could defy him, but that satisfaction would be temporary. And she knew how sadistic Leuvis could be when he wanted to punish someone...was it even worth it to resist him? She glanced back up at Leuvis and tried her best to focus her gaze on the middle of his mask, too scared to meet his eyes directly. "I...I do," she said hesitantly. Her mind raced to try and find a way to avoid provoking his ire. "But I can't say it out loud." Another half-truth that left a lump in her throat.

Leuvis's grip tightened a bit around her and she winced. "And why is that?"

____ swallowed nervously. "Because," she replied quickly. "The answer...it-it's 'no.'" She tried to keep her lips from wobbling as she gave Leuvis a demure smile. "And a good pet never says 'no' to her master."

Leuvis stared silently at her for a few seconds, and her heart raced as she desperately hoped he wouldn't see through her lie. He finally let out a small laugh and pulled her by the leash into his arms, dwarfing her with his draped-over clothing and large frame. He picked her up and pressed his mask up against her cheek. "Very clever, my dear," he replied. "I'm lucky to have such an entertaining little pet." Behind his mask, ____ swore she could see his gaze darken. "Even when you try to misbehave."

He set her back down and gently tugged on the leash to goad her into following him. ____ tried her best to breathe and keep calm as he led her into his bedroom. "I suppose that part of the blame lies with me," Leuvis mused. "I've definitely been spoiling you. But you still need to be properly trained and taught your place--you're not a stray running around in the woods anymore."

____ crossed her arms and dug her fingernails into her bare skin. Surviving out in the wilderness had been difficult, to say the least: hunting and foraging for food, concealing her presence and memorizing all of the best hiding places for miles whenever she heard Demons coming by her camp, and spending countless nights staying awake out of fear of being discovered and eaten while she slept. Every day was a struggle to survive and stay sane. When she'd finally made a mistake by unknowingly scouting for a new camp near Leuvis's estate, she had been ready to die the moment he and a few of his hunting buddies had found her collecting water at the edge of Goldy Pond. The moment she'd heard their footsteps and saw three Demons closing in on her, every part of her body had just shut down all at once. Instead of trying to flee or fight, she had collapsed into a paralyzed heap onto the ground and could do nothing except stare up at her would-be killers with wide fearful eyes. Looking back on it, it had reminded her of whenever she would hunt rabbits in the woods and how some of them had just submitted to their fate as prey and looked up at her the same way as they waited to be eaten. Maybe that was why Leuvis had decided not to throw her into one of his hunting parties; there was no fun in hunting prey that had already given themselves up to you so easily.

____ snapped out of her thoughts after a sharp tug to her leash caused her to stumble and fall to the ground. "See? You're already proving my point," Leuvis scolded. "When I ask you a question, you answer me."

"I-I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I was distracted. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Distracted?"

"I was thinking about when I was on my own," ____ explained. "When I was a...a stray. Before you gave me a better life." Again, not quite the full truth, but not a lie either. And this time he seemed to actually believe her; he slowly reached down to tilt her chin up to look at him, and she could see the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile behind his mask.

"I see." He brushed his thumb over her cheek and then her bottom lip. "Even if you weren't listening, it seems you answered my question anyway." His smile widened. "You are grateful for everything I've done for you." She looked up at him with that doe-eyed expression on her face that pleased him so much, and he lifted her up again to place her on his bed. Even for a Demon it was massive, and when he set ____ on the bedspread her legs dangled over the edge like a doll on a shelf. "And I want you to show me that you're grateful."

____ whimpered when she felt Leuvis push her down to lay her flat against the bed. He'd never done anything more than fondling her while giving her baths or absentmindedly touching her while she was in his lap as he read a book or enjoyed a glass of wine. When she saw him reach up to unbutton his coat and then remove his shirt, she backed away from him on the mattress and let out a fearful cry when he took her by the waist with one hand. "Stay still," Leuvis ordered. His fingers dug into her skin as he held her in place. "Stay."

____ choked back a sob and complied, going limp and sinking into the silk comforter underneath her. His grip loosened and he traced circles into her upper thigh before he finished undressing himself. "Good girl."

A nude Demon was something ____ had never thought she'd encounter before, and certainly not like this. Leuvis's body was similar to his face and hands in terms of proportion and color. His body seemed to have muscles made of thick white strings of sinew that resembled a human form, but only in the barest sense. His pelvis was similar to that of a skeleton's, with a strange appendage in the middle that almost seemed like a shell composed of two "plates" of hard muscle. Leuvis stroked the seam between the two plates with a few fingers and let out a soft sigh; a thick black braid of tendrils slowly made its way through the crack and eased its way out, and ____ felt an intense wave of panic as it gently writhed its way out and shone with a bit of slick fluid.

Leuvis took the appendage into one of his hands and ____'s back with the other. The tip wriggled between her thighs and she broke down crying, squeezing them together as tightly as possible to keep this...thing...from invading her. "Please, please, don't," ____ begged hysterically. "Please stop! I'll do anything you want me to, anything but this!"

Leuvis held each of her thighs with one hand and firmly held her in place as she squirmed underneath him. "I know you're scared, but that's only because this is your first time being played with," he insisted irritably. His voice strained a bit as her thighs tightly enveloped his cock. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm training you." He increased the length of his tendrils just a bit and made the braid separate, and soon he felt the tip of one of the tentacles brush against her labia. Her breath hitched at the strange sensation, and soon another tentacle made its way to flick at a sensitive bud of flesh that made her face flush. Her nipples hardened from the stimulation below and a strange mixture of warmth and something entirely new began to build up inside of her.

Eventually ____'s crying subsided a bit and she sniffled as Leuvis gently spread her thighs apart to feel even more of her. Now that she was starting to realize how pleasurable this could be, it seemed she was becoming much more obedient. Leuvis slipped one of the tentacles not playing with her clitoris inside of her tight walls; the two of them moaned in unison and ____ automatically moved her legs a bit further apart to accommodate more of him. The shiny medallion from her collar jingled a bit as he rocked her hips back and forth, and Leuvis smiled. He took her leash and tugged it to turn her head towards him. "See? There's a good girl," he praised in a soothing voice. "You're already doing so well, and this is just the first night of our little 'training.'" He chuckled breathlessly and eased another tentacle inside of her; she let out a delicious little gasp and her eyes rolled back slightly as she finally started to move her hips a bit of her own accord. "I'll fuck you over and over until you spread your legs when you see me."

#.tpn #yandere tpn #yandere leuvis #.leuvis #tw: noncon #tw: pet play #tw: monster fucking #.myshit #fem darling #.prompts #.queue

220 notes · View notes

xiaolapis · 3 years

Text

Cockwarming - Zhongli

Minors DNI

It was your idea. You wanted a chance to see the ever elegant and composed Zhongli squirm. You wanted to see him struggle to hold onto the control he always seemed to have tucked close in his breast pocket. The idea alone was enough to have a shiver of anticipation go down your spine.

But Zhongli is a particular man. Particular in that he is very observant of you, the bearer of his affection. He knows what makes you laugh and cry, he knows your favorite and least favorite foods, and he knows your tells and your tricks. So, when you approach him with the idea of his cock penetrating into your body with the objective to remain still for as long as possible, he knows exactly what you're up to.

Zhongli is a patient man. He takes his time as he approaches, hands settling on your body as he meticulously begins to undress you. He does not stop until you stand completely bare before him. Only as his hands come in contact with skin does his lips graze your ear and he utters, "Let's make a deal; a contract, of sorts."

Maybe this was a bad idea, but it's too late to consider the consequences. Zhongli has you pulled flush against his still clothed body, his hands caress your sides, his lips caress your neck. Your knees are feeling weak, and you're certain his support is the only thing keeping you standing.

"If I move first, I'll do whatever you please." Oh Celestia, his deep voice has somehow dropped into an even lower timbre. You practically feel it under your skin, and it leaves you breathless.

"A-and... if I move first?" Only Zhongli truly knows how much effort you put forth to say even those words. And although he doesn't immediately respond, you can feel his lips tug into a smile against your skin.

"If you move first, then you will do whatever I desire." You're speechless as he departs his lips from your skin. His amber eyes, which almost glow, have you transfixed on them. You would have willingly remained lost in all that is him had the rumble from his chest not dulled his spell on you. He chuckled. "Do you agree to this arrangement?"

This is a losing game, you know, but the desire that stirs in the pit of your stomach squashes any rational thought. So, you nod in agreement to his proposal.

"You must use your words, my dear." He's smiling, clearly amused, as his lips descend unto your forehead in a sweet kiss. "If you do not give me clear consent, I will cease my advances at once."

Your response was immediate, "No! I-I mean yes! I want it... please?"

The way your brows furrow ever so pleadingly, the way you cling to him, is enough to have Zhongli almost purr in satisfaction. His teeth catch your trembling lip. "And thus, we have a contract."

Swept off your feet, you cling to Zhongli in surprise, his long strides bringing you to his study. He sat at his chair, and his lap became yours.

Zhongli is a man with a remarkable memory. Thus, he has memorized every spot on your body that would have you tremble against him. His hands grope at your thighs, stroke your sides, and pinch your chest. His lips press just below your ear, his teeth nip against your neck, and his tongue slides against your collarbone. All this while he frees his cock from its constraint.

And as he pulls you down, pushing inside, you can do naught but gasp at the sheer size of him. Zhongli places slow, sweet kisses all over your face in an effort to shush you. He's gentle as if the head of his dick isn't splitting you open. And by the time you are fully seated on him, the contract is the furthest from your mind. His girth stretches and fills you, and you're reduced to a babbling mess.

Too much, too big, and every other jumbled word you manage to get out, Zhongli listens to them all. And though the sight before him is the picture of desire and temptation, he is a man of his word; he does not move. Instead, he allows himself to enjoy your warmth. Even though you started this in a rather adorable attempt to get under his skin, Zhongli is already planning ahead for when the both of you can partake in this "cockwarming" again.

You, on the other hand, are trembling atop him. This has turned near torturous, and you feel moments away from falling apart. You wonder if Zhongli is aware that his tip is pressed close to your depths. You wonder if he's aware that the shaft of his cock rests against a bundle of nerves. He probably is. And he probably revels in how you struggle not to squirm.

"Do not forget yourself, dearest." He cups your cheeks and kisses your lips, an action that does not lessen your torment. "You must not move."

But you do. In a moment of weakness, chasing his lips for more of his tender kisses, you roll your hips. It's an action that has stars twinkling behind your eyes, and it even pulls a groan from Zhongli. Although the pleasure it brings forth is delicious, Zhongli will not let you off easy.

No, his hands are no longer gentle as he catches your waist. No longer are you perched on his lap, rather you are now pinned against his desk. One hand stays upon you while the other cages you in, gripping the wood with enough strength for it to crack and splinter.

"You moved first," he says as his knuckles graze from your neck downward. "Now, you must lie here while I take what I desire."

As a man, Zhongli is as steady as stone; unyielding and resolute. Yet, in this moment there is a carnal energy about him, something almost bestial. He wonders if you're aware that your mere presence is enough to test his patience. You probably do. And you probably revel in how he struggles to keep control with every thrust into your body.

Maybe, this wasn't such a bad idea after all...

#i am but a simple harlot #i see zhongli #and my mind goes straight to the gutter #harlot #genshin #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #zhongli #harlot hours #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut

166 notes · View notes

hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

He Calls Me Honey Tits

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Here’s the third and last part of you and Arthur being lovers during his time in the whorehouse! In which this cheeky bastard slathers honey on your tits and teases you and pleases you until you’ve never been so damn aroused 🙃🍯💦

Pairing: King Arthur x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, Brothel Boy Arthur being a cheeky little shit (licking honey off your tits, eating you out and denying you his dick until you beg for it)

Word Count: ~2.2k

… Continued from Part 2 [Read Here]

“How may I be of service, honeybee?”

The beaming blue-eyed bastard leads you to his bedchamber and softly shuts the door. Though he’s the brothel boy it feels like you’re the whore. You’re far more smitten in his presence than you want to be.

Sensing the indignation fuming off your body, Arthur smirks as if it’s funny. “Anybody ever told you that you’re lovely when you’re huffy?”

Suddenly, your cunt lips feel swollen and puffy. Slick as if this cheeky thief had dipped his finger in your honey. Try to stay composed and classy. “You can’t work your charms to get your petty crime past me. This is about the money.”

“But of course it is. Just business.” Arthur winks and it’s without a doubt the wickedest shit you have ever witnessed.

Keep your wits before he sucks you deeper into this—whatever this shit is. “You said that we could meet at your place to sort out the fucking payment. Here I am to fucking claim it.”

“Ohh, she bites,” he taunts like he has any right. “Such nasty language from a mouth so nice. Love, what’s your price? Just name it.”

“I am not your love!” you furiously huff.

“Not yet. But I’d bet just the thought has got your honeypot all wet.”

Did he just—he just—sweet mother of Jesus—

“Mmm, I’d love a taste,” he teases. Sea-blue gaze mirrors the lust that’s written all across your face. “Can’t let such honey go to waste.”

“You’ve stolen quite enough already, I daresay.”

His voice is steady, yet his cock is raging madly as he steps so close that you can almost feel it. “Didn’t steal it. You just let it slip away.”

All your dignity and self-restraint, that is. Such is the picture that his passionate words paint; he’s driving you to fucking madness. Sheer destruction through seduction is this little bastard’s favorite game to play. And he won’t stop until he’s buried in your honeypot today.

***************

Just how this sweet sticky mess ended up spread all across your tits, you can’t quite say.

Fuck it. You’re naked on the boy-whore’s bed with honey slathered on your bare breasts and your cunt is dripping buckets. Blue eyes own you where you lay. Somehow the bastard has convinced you that for what he stole from you today at market, shameless pleasure is the best way to repay.

The session started with a fight over the jar that he had thieved. He taunted you until he wanted you more than he could believe. More than his station in this house even allows. Voices raised, daggers from your gaze. Aroused. Amazed.

Saw how his thirst aligned with yours, as shouts and hisses flung between you turned to roars, and pinned you down onto the bed with feral force. Paused to make certain you were both on the same page. A man of care and caution though the beast in him may rage.

And here and now with words unspoken that blue gaze of his explores. Impales you to the core, seeks out your secret inner whore. All set to free her from your inhibitions’ cage. The truth of you that any other man including your own lawfully wedded pig always ignores.

Do you want to fucking engage?

Of fucking course.

And so you do. Fire and water all at once, this man’s effect upon your cunt, flaming and fluid. This is what true pleasure is, you think as he attacks heavy and hot. Slut for the once and future king of fucking Camelot. Already his, as he claims your lips in a cataclysmic kiss, crashing together in a spell of breathless bliss.

He tastes of courage. Hunger, unfed all the stronger. Poor boy forced to live on stolen scraps and half-full bowls of porridge. Forced to fight and fuck and forage. Forge his way through filth without the faintest clue his royal blood doesn’t belong here. Here with you he’s poor no longer.

First few minutes of your time spent in his bed the boy-whore shatters you to bits.

And now you’re here with stolen honey smeared across your naked tits.

You gasp a giddy laugh at how ridiculous this funny business is. “You cheeky little shit!”

He smirks and lets the now half-empty jar of honey clatter to the floor. Hovering over you all set to make damn sure... that you will always and forever be his filthy little whore. “You know you fucking love it, honey tits.”

No fucking use denying it.

Arthur as well had stripped his shirt off earlier, in those first few seconds of this passionate blur, so you can see and feel the sculpted muscles of his abdomen and chest. He is a god and nothing less. Those chiseled ridges rub against your honey-covered skin and make a fucking mess. His mouth descends deliciously on yours again as skillful hands knead at the soft flesh of your breasts.

“Sweet little goddess,” he breathes out amidst the kisses and it’s too much to be honest. King among men making you feel like his queen. “Swear you’re the loveliest damn thing I’ve ever seen. The loveliest.”

The purity—he’s doing you so dirty, loving you so clean. Feel you belong here with him surely, more than anywhere on earth you’ve ever been.

Your fingers fist twined in his glorious gold locks. Hips bucking frantic to seek friction up against the fucking hard bulge of his cock. Still sheathed in cloth as he’s not yet disrobed his lower half, to free his raging shaft—likely to burst right through the fabric since he’s so massive and solid as a rock.

With every second that huge cock of his grows harder, taking your desire farther. Inner slut escapes the cage that he’s unlocked.

“Ughh—fuck me, Arthur...” you cry out, needy and loud, all honey-smothered, hot and bothered. “Fuck...”

His focus shifts off of your lips down to your neck and then your chest and suddenly he starts to suck.

Your mouth gapes wide to make a sound but has no luck.

Choking on air as you surrender to his touch. He’s just too much. Soft lips squeeze tight around your nipple, slurping honey as it dribbles. Grinds the stiffness of his meat against the wet heat of your crotch. Glittering blue eyes glance at you beneath the gold fringe of his lashes, as your body throbs and thrashes. Getting off on the effect he has because he loves to watch.

You moan and whimper, one breast lavished in attention from his slick tongue while he works the other with his skillful fingers. Swipes his thumb across your stiff peak as he teases at the other with the pearl ridge of his teeth until your senses fall apart. “Please, Art...”

The bastard chuckles in a breathy little huff. “Don’t worry, love. Promise I’ll fuck you good and hard,” he reassures you meaning it with all his heart. “Just thought I’d better whet my appetite to start.”

Of course he’d crack a stupid fucking pun, while you’re coming undone. Scrapes his enormous bulge against your aching cunt, with a deep grunt, reminding you what you both want. How hard he’s gotten and how wet you are. You’re seeing fucking stars.

Flattens his tongue against the valley of your cleavage now to slobber up the sugary gold mess that’s gathered there. Licks slowly upward as he owns you with the bright blue of his stare. Honey spreads all across his trimmed blonde beard and sweetens every hair.

Of all the men upon this earth no one has ever been so fair.

Dips in the hollow of your throat, and you damn well nearly explode.

And then those luscious lips are back on yours again. Lose track of where your breathing ends and his begins.

The taste of honey should be overwhelming sweet, but something sweeter yet sparks into being where your soul and his so intimately meet. The hunger only this can feed. Each on the road to being everything the other ever needs. Perhaps not so just yet, but in the moment you first met, he’d planted that passionate seed.

Already want him now to plant another seed deep in your hole. Already know that someday he will fill that role.

But not today—today is all about pure pleasure and the game he came to play.

To claim you as his whore in every goddamned way.

Between kisses you plead with him although it’s such a struggle now to talk. “Please, Arthur—fuck...”

He snickers. That majestic bulge of his harder, and bigger. “Mmm, so pretty when you’re begging for my cock.”

Those words—the sheer filth has you so aroused it hurts—you shut your eyes for fear they’ll pop out of your sockets.

He reminds you now of how you had denied him when he’d asked you for a sample of your product. Shut that door and tried to lock it. On his own terms he had gotten his hands on it, taking what he wanted. Dirty and dishonest. “Wouldn’t let me taste your sweet honey at market. Seems I’ll have to steal that pleasure from your honeypot myself before I fuck it.”

Oh, that’s obscene—wait, does he mean—what—shit...

Upon the bed he shifts, sudden and swift, a blaze of sex, until his lust-crazed gaze is level with the slick between your legs. And that’s when the truth of it hits.

Young Arthur’s hunger for your cunt is even stronger than his hunger for your tits.

The two of you have kissed and licked most of the honey from each other’s mouths by now so that his tongue is mostly clean. And that’s exactly as he wants it so that he can taste the flavor of his lovely future queen.

He’s a complete whore for your flavor. Buries his beautiful face deep in your folds like every precious drop was made for him to savor. All at once delicate yet dominant, as he feasts on your cunt. Art makes an art of it, worshipping every part of it.

Your wetness glistens as it gushes out across his gorgeous features from the second he descends; and yet with him the peak of pleasure’s not the end. Rather the very fucking start of it.

You shout his name, loud without shame, your inner slut unleashed with only him to blame. Your body and soul absolutely his to claim. The stolen honey and the money were just all part of the game; he knows that this is why you came.

Needless to say you need his cock inside you now but he intends to make you beg. He could spend days continuing to feed facedown between your legs.

One of his hands has wandered down to his own crotch to give himself the stimulation he deserves, now as two fingers of his other hand are pumping in your hole, while he devours your cunt whole, lips latching tight around your tender bud of nerves.

Your thousandth wave of pleasure rolls. Scream for his cock until he’s finally stripped himself naked and mounts you with his rippled muscles pressed against your curves.

And now at last uses your body for the purpose it was put on earth to serve.

Your tight hot cunt is so completely fucking soaked, he nearly chokes and almost spills his load inside of you at his first fucking stroke.

Catches his breath and bites his tongue, knowing he can’t hold off for long. Till now he’s never known true home. The women of this brothel housed him and raised him since he was young, yet though he’s grateful for their love he never quite seemed to belong. With you he does as though he’s been here all along. Feels like the whole world is his kingdom. Kingdom finally fucking come.

You’re feeling everything the same. Someday his queen for now his filthy little slut. The flood. The flame. The fluid heat as you’re split open on this man’s majestic meat until you feel his power beating in your blood. The beast in each of you untamed. Such fucking force. His power is all fucking yours. Of fucking course.

Kisses you long and deep and hard, until the white hot bliss that’s burning through him shatters into shards.

Pulls out in time to take his meat in his own fist and spray his seed across your stomach and your chest. Painting you like a work of art. Pearly white gleams against the honey gold that still clings to the soft skin of your breasts. Just from the feel of being coated in his load your throbbing cunt pulses until it falls apart, convulses in a rush of pleasure rooted somewhere in your slutty little heart. You’ve never felt so fucking blessed. Of all the moments of your life to date this is without a doubt the fucking best.

Yet this is all just how it starts. Your days here in the boy-whore’s bed have just begun and you don’t doubt he’ll take you to new heights of ecstasy for all the fucking rest.

He’s feeling everything the same. Smiles and calls you by your name—honey tits.

Knows you fucking love it. Though at first you’d claimed the reason for this visit was just business... clearly that’s not what this is. Business has turned to pleasure just as you both wanted it.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this and would love to hear if you did! 🤗💗

Masterlist

Tag List – Join Here!*

*If you’re unable to use that link to join the tag list, just let me know and I’ll manually add you to it!

@itsme-autumn @rebelwrites @happyhunnams @band--psycho @witching-hour @est11 @edonaspanca @ughdontbeboring @neverland14353 @starbooty @coffeequeenxx @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @justme2042 @awesomenatalia @auroraariza @rochyu @coffeebooksandfandom @inlovewithcharliehunnam @turner-cris @thesuicidalflower @chrmdnbeautiful @xladymacbethx @holl2712 @snow-white-74 @moonlight-fern @stitchesbystults @lilacyennefer @magic-room @sunflower12335 @trishmarieofficial @smoochesfroggos @o0idk0o @beth-winchester21 @flaireandsynch @littlebennettwitchsblog @got-to-love-a-badboy @noneofyourbusinessssblog @notquitecannon @wayward-avenging @travistheaussie @helloheyhihowdyheya @christycarnell6 @dinopin @leathercladmenfics @magictehnique @amberembers @addcrastinator3 @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @foreve-free @midnvght-lies @wiccanash @batmanb @xbreezymeadowsx @louisianalady @perhapstan @beethebuzzbuzz72 @boredintheglade [hit the 50-tag limit – list to be continued in a reblog of this fic]

#charlie hunnam #king arthur #king arthur legend of the sword #arthur pendragon #king arthur smut #king arthur imagine #king arthur fanfiction #charlie hunnam smut #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #king arthur x reader #king arthur x you #arthur pendragon x reader #arthur pendragon x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #brothel boy arthur

234 notes · View notes

taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

The Hero's Countdown | PJM (One)

Summary: Soulmates: The one you are bound to. In this world, you feel everything they feel. Their joy, their pain, everything. Once day you feel the most excruciating amount of pain only to find out your soulmate has died. What happens when the God’s of Time offer to turn back time so you can make things right and save your soulmates life?

Pairing: Jimin x Female reader

Genre: soulmates au, Gods au, fluff, smut, angst, crack

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: swearing, suicide, mentions of sex, oc is kinda a bitch

Notes: And the first chapter is finally here! Sorry it took so long!! I don’t know why I have been so nervous to post this…but It’s going to be a fun journey! Send an ask if you want to be added to a taglist or if you just want to chat:) (Remember this is all fictitious)

Taglist: @mawwnsterr @fancycollectormoon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 21

Pain. Excruciating pain. You feel it in your chest first, then the intense feeling travels from your beating heart to the tips of your fingers. You choke on air trying to compose yourself, but the pain is so unbelievably powerful that you struggle to catch your breath. Something’s wrong. Something is terribly wrong. Your hand goes to your chest, you pull at your shirt as you try to breathe and then suddenly it stops. Just like that. Something happened. Something happened to him.

Soulmates: Two people with the soul connection who feel they are linked on a soul level in a significant or extraordinary way. In this world that means the person you are bound to. When you meet you feel an incredibly intense pull of instant recognition and intense attraction followed by intense emotions. And you feel everything they feel. Their joy, their pain, just everything if it’s considered intense. Physically and emotionally. And that doesn’t stop until you officially “connect” with your partner. What does that even mean? Connect? Does that mean fucking? That sounds like it means fucking. It probably means fucking. You don’t believe in all this bullshit though. The universes predestined bullshit can kiss. Your. Ass.

You’ve learned the hard way that even destined soulmates can’t always make it work…and leaving it up to fate leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. So you ignore fate. You do the very opposite of what fate wants. Fate is strong though and very hard to ignore. It pulls you in the direction of your soulmate constantly—quite literally. Whenever you get the urge, like urge to do something—like out of nowhere get the idea to visit the new bookstore down the block…even though you don’t care for reading. Yeah, that’s a sign that fate is trying to work its magic but you resist that god damn urge and do your own thing. And that’s just one example.

Feeling all your soulmates feelings wouldn’t be so horrible if the man you are destined to be with wasn’t so god damn emotional. Fucking Park Jimin. Yes, you’re well aware who your soulmate is…how else do you know how to avoid him so perfectly? As much as you can at least…considering… But he doesn’t seek you out either—thankfully. But you know he wants to. You can quite literally feel it…his yearning is so powerful it makes you nauseas. But he agreed to stay away. So now you live your life however you please! You have an amazing job that you love, a fantastic group of friends and a hot man you sex up on the regular. Things are good!

The only thing that isn’t good is that you still haven’t bought Isabelle a gift for her birthday party tonight. You’re walking on the sidewalk back to work from getting a coffee on this breezy Monday afternoon when you are hit with realization that you are the worst best friend ever. She always goes above and beyond for your birthday but you can’t even think of a decent gift for her! You listen to the click clack of your heels hitting the pavement as your mind wanders…what could you possibly get her that she doesn’t already have?

You feel your phone buzzing and speak of the devil.

“Hello?” You bring the phone to your ear and your coffee to your lips.

“Please tell me you didn’t invite Julio to my birthday event? Because I just got a text from him asking if he needs to bring anything.” You hear your frazzled best friend on the other line.

“He’s my date tonight.” You say nonchalantly. “Come on, when you guys drink together you…kind of…get along.” You shrug even though she can’t see you.

“Good lord, y/n. You know I can’t stand him. I know he’s got “that good dick” but couldn’t we have went one night without him.” she whines into the phone and you chuckle.

“I’ll make sure he behaves.” You promise. “Now tell me,” you stop at a cross walk and wait for the little person to light up. “What the hell do you want for your birthday?”

“…classic y/n.” Isabelle sighs out, “Just do what you did last year and buy me yet another scarf for my collection.”

“Okay I’ve only bought you like three scarves.” You defend with a pout.

“Four actually, but okay.”

“I’ll just figure it out. See you tonight boo.”

“Fine, see you tonight.” And then you’re bringing the phone down and clicking the end button. Isabelle and Julio (your fuck buddy) don’t necessarily get along. They’re both too similar, you think. But neither will admit that. You’ve been seeing Julio for a few months now, it’s nothing serious of course. He has yet to meet his soulmate and you’re just totally against soulmates. So it makes for good sex.

You walk up to your building and take a deep breath, time to get back to work. You love your job, you really do. But you constantly put your job before your sanity. Because—

“Oh hey.”

Him. You felt him before you even saw him…that’s how strong the pull is. Fate is a funny thing. It brought you to this job, and it brought you to him. But instead of purposely choosing another path and avoiding him like the plague you chose to endure. Because you fucking love this job.

You write scripts for video games and it’s the most fulfilling thing in your life right now…yes even more fulfilling than Julio’s dick. But seeing him 5 days of the week and feeling how he yearns for you is really fucking your head up.

“I said don’t talk to me, remember?” you say with a tight smile. “Seeing you is hard enough.”

Jimin’s eyes soften as he looks at you and he offers an apologetic smile.

“Goodbye, y/n.” and he’s walking past you as he decides to take the stairs while your lazy ass waits for the elevator.

Pain. You feel his pain. And you wince at the overwhelming feeling. But you have to endure and move forward!

“Afternoon y/n.” Your boss comes up to you as you both wait for the elevator. “You got that new script ready for me?”

“Yes sir, I’ll bring it up to your desk before I leave work today.” You offer him one of your sweeter smiles and he brightens.

“Great!” he chuckles wholeheartedly and pats your back, then he’s walking forward once the elevator arrives.

You sigh out in relief that he didn’t question you further…because in truth, that script is not ready and you’re about to have to work your ass off for the rest of the day.

~~~~~

It’s pretty chilly for being an evening in the summer but hey, you won’t complain. It’s better than the blistering heat from a few days ago. You have the address on your phone for the restaurant you’re meeting Isabelle at for her birthday bash. The streets are busy as usual since the city never rests. You walk towards a group of people when you suddenly are hit with an intense feeling of…despair? God, it hurts. But it’s over just as quickly as it started. You compose yourself and continue walking…a few worried looks from strangers but you brush it off.

“She’s finally here!” Isabelle slurs out, “My best fucking friend bitches!”

“Oh my god who let her get drunk before dinner?” you ask, scratching the top of your head as Isabelle rushes to hug you.

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want.” She drunkenly giggles. “Hurry, hurry.” She ushers you to take a seat and you do. You plop down in the spot next to her, setting your birthday bag down on the ground.

“Another scarf?” she teases, pointing at the bag.

“And if it is?”

“Then I’ll love it you predictable bitch.”

“Hey gorgeous.” You feel a pair of lips kissing your cheek and you know just who they belong to.

“Hi.” You breathe out, “just getting here?” you ask and Julio nods his head yes.

“I didn’t want to get here way earlier than you…I wouldn’t have a friend to hang out with.” He playfully pouts, “But you’re here now.”

“Yes, now you have a friend.” You wink.

You’re about to speak again when another wave of pain hits you. You throw a hand over your racing heart and breathe out heavily.

“Hey, you okay?” Julio rubs your back, “y/n?”

And then it disappears as quickly as it came…

“Yeah, yeah.” You gasp out, “Jeez, wow.” You whisper. “I’m fine.”

Julio gives you a look of concern before he’s nodding his head slowly and turning his body to grab a drink.

“If you say so.” He mumbles.

You try to shake off these strange feelings, and try to have a good time. Isabelle is throwing back drink after drink and after dinner you join her. You begin to loosen up, the alcohol working its drunken magic on you. Isabelle is dancing on a table as the restaurants staff tries their best to get her down, you just watch and laugh like a maniac.

Everything is going good, really good…until pain.

“y/n? y/n?” You hear Julio call out for you desperately as you try to even out your breathing.

“Hey, you okay?” his voice sounds so distant, like he’s getting further and further away from you. “Get out of my way!” You now hear Isabelle’s voice, she’s pushing through the crowd that surrounds you. “I said, get out of my way!”

Then finally she’s at your side, you are heaving, you are struggling to breath. You feel your cheeks wet from the tears that managed to escape your eyes unknowingly.

What the fuck happened? What’s happening?

Finally, after several minutes of gasping for air, you manage to relax.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?” Isabelle looks at you with worried eyes, her hand on your back as you straighten yourself.

“Isabelle…I think something happened.”

“What?”

“It’s Jimin, I can feel it.”

Isabelle’s eyes widen and she nods her head in understanding. “Let’s get you home.”

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” you slam your phone down on your coffee table and sigh out in frustration. You have called Jimin maybe 10 times now but it just keeps going to voicemail. What the hell happened? Is he okay? This feels wrong, you feel wrong. You feel empty for some reason like someone stole your life away, like they sucked it right out of your body. You feel weak. You are barely able to move from the coffee table from how fucking weak you are.

You decide to call it a night, you will just confront Jimin at work tomorrow and ask what the hell happened. You drag your weak, weak body to your bed and try your hardest to fall asleep. But all you can think about is Jimin, he’s taking over your mind. Like, you can’t control it. You see images of him and images of his life, maybe you are just imagining it? But you’re sure these are images of his life…is that something soulmates can do? You toss and turn for hours, until finally you see the sky turn a dark blue and eventually the sun is rising.

You decide to just say fuck it, and get up. You’ll get to work early today. You have so much trouble getting ready, you feel ill. Like, a demon sucked you dry of your energy. But you endure because you really need to see Jimin today.

You grab a coffee on the way to work when you feel yourself being pulled into the direction of your office—Jimin must be there. You walk a little faster and when you finally reach the building you notice something is off. There’s groups of people gathered around the building and police officers inside, you walk in and see your boss talking to one of the officers.

“Oh y/n!” your boss calls out to you, his hand raised up to get your attention, and then he’s waving you over.

“Yes?” you look between him and the officer, “What’s up? What’s going on?”

“Did you know Park Jimin?” The officer gets straight to the point.

“I…do…” your eyes scan the inside of the building and you notice a couple of women that work in your office crying into each other’s arms.

“Do you know if something was going on his life? Something that could lead him to commit suicide?”

“C-Commit?” you look around the room again, you notice your boss looking antsy and the couple of women crying did happen to work in Jimin’s department.

“Yes mam, we understand this is difficult. But any information you have could be crucial. We need to make sure we can rule this out as suicide and not something more serious.”

“He loved his job.” Your boss cuts in nervously, “So it’s not because we didn’t treat him well or something…”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “Commit suicide?”

“We found Park Jimin’s body this morning in his apartment. Overdose it seems. His elderly neighbor usually brings him breakfast in the mornings and when he didn’t answer she got concerned. She was shocked to say the least.”

“He-He’s dead?” you blink at the officer repeatedly, “He died?” you are in a state of shock yourself. There’s no way…you just saw him yesterday…but…but those waves of pain you felt then that huge wave that felt like…death itself.

“I think you’re wrong.” You say, in a state of denial now. “Jimin was just here…I just saw him yesterday.”

“Time of death is some time last night.” The officer confirms. “That’s her!” you hear the voice of a woman scream out. “That’s that bitch!” you turn around in a daze, trying to find the source of the screams.

“You fucking bitch!” you see a woman charging at you, screaming at the top of her lungs with her finger pointed in your direction.

“M-Me?” you point at yourself in confusion.

“He just…why couldn’t you give him a chance?” The woman breaks down, falling to her knees in front of you. “You’re his soulmate for fucks sake. This is all your fault!” She cries out, defeated.

You stand here, confused as hell. He told people? And how is this your fault?

“H-He’s not gone.” You say weakly, your shock still very fresh. “I’ll call him.” you quickly grab your phone from your pocket and dial Jimin’s number.

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

You gulp, trying again…

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

And again.

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

Fuck, why isn’t he answering? You start to panic now. You blink back growing tears, your body seems to be growing weaker and weaker.

“He’s just…”

“He’s dead!” she screams out, looking up into your eyes, her own eyes bubbled over with tears. “And it’s your fucking fault!”

The officer is helping the women off the floor and escorting her outside the building. You stand here in complete shock still, your body about to give out on you. There’s absolutely no way Jimin is dead. And there’s absolutely no way it’s your fault. Right?

~~~~~

Your limbs are so overwhelmingly heavy as you are draped over your sofa. You are unable to move. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat. You are unable to form sentences at this point, you feel drained. Completely drained. You still can’t believe the news. Jimin is gone. You don’t want to believe it but you do feel heartbroken…you feel so lost and empty and incomplete.

You close your eyes, hoping to drift off into a deep, deep sleep.

“We should let her sleep…”

“No! Girl needs to wake up and we need to get this show on the road!”

“Jin…”

“What? The more time she sleeps the more time she wastes.”

“We literally control time we can let her sleep for 5 more minutes.”

“Exactly, we control it so you know how precious it is, Namjoon.”

You swear you hear voices but you’re too fucking tired to open your eyes, they sound so far away…

“Listen I’m only letting her have these 5 minutes because girl needs her beauty sleep. Do you see those horrible dark circles?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“Okay, she has like 30 seconds left and we are waking her ass up.”

“Fine.”

“Hey! Hey!” your shoulders are getting fucking rocked as somebody tries to wake you. “Wakey Wakey, hands off snakey!”

“She doesn’t have a snakey dude.” You hear another voice.

You slowly begin to open your eyes when you see a man with his hands on your shoulders. You scream. You scream bloody murder.

“Hey, woah, woah!” The guy puts his hands up in surrender. “Not going to hurt you!”

“We’re just here to talk.” The other voice cuts in, you snap your head to the side and notice another man. You scramble on the sofa, getting into a defensive position as you scream again.

“Have ourself a screamer, don’t we?” the first man winks, “Huh? Huh?” he opens his arms wide and shakes his head around. “No? Tough crowd.”

“Who the hell are you two? Take what you want! Please just leave me alone!”

“We don’t want anything and leaving you alone isn’t something we can do.” The second man says, he sighs out and crosses his arms. “Look, we need to talk.”

“Oh!” the first man quirks a brow, “We don’t want to take anything…no offense, maybe a little offense, but your apartment isn’t that ni—”

“Jin, now is not the time.”

“What the fuck is happening?” you yell out, “Who are you two?”

“Right.” The first man says, “Introductions. Should we just say who we are or should we do our little number that you refuse to rehearse?”

“We aren’t singing as our intros, Jin.”

“Why not? So unfair, Tae and Hobi do it.

“They’re a special breed.” The second man releases a long breath, “I’m Namjoon.”

“And I’m Jin.”

“And we’re—”

“The Gods of Time!”

You blink at the two psychopaths in your living room with your mouth wide open. What the fuck?

“How did you two get in here?!” you ask, deciding to ignore their little introduction.

“Walked through the front door.”

“But it’s locked—“”

“No, like literally.” Jin states, “We walked through it. Because we’re you know, Gods.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Did you just tell a God to shut the fuck up?” Jin grins, “Brave girl.”

“We have an order of business.” Namjoon rolls his eyes at Jin, “We need to talk.”

“We aren’t talking until you tell me how you got in my apartment! And what you fucking want!”

“He told you already,” Namjoon sighs, “We walked through the front door and we want to talk.”

“You walked through? Because you’re Gods? Right, like I’m supposed to believe that.” You huff out and Jin lights up with an idea.

“Here.” He’s suddenly handing you a knife. “Stab me.”

“What the fuck?” You hold the knife in your hand, where did he even get a knife so quickly? “I’m not going to stab you!”

“Just do it!”

“No!”

“Yeah, just do it.” Namjoon encourages you with a tired face.

“No!”

“Come on just a little stabby wabby.” Jin sings, “Come on!”

“Fine!” you stick the knife in Jin’s leg and he starts screaming in agony.

“What the hell!!!! Why would you really stab me?!?!? Oh MY GOD?!!!”

“YOU TOLD ME TO?!?!” you stand up in panic, rushing to his leg and seeing if it’s something serious.

“YOU MANIAC!!!! YOU REALLY STABBED—” then he’s laughing hysterically as Namjoon just claps his hands with an unimpressed face.

“Great performance Jin, but can we get to the point?”

“Performance?” you stutter, “You’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m a God. You think a little human knife can hurt me?”

“Wait, wait, wait! You really are okay? I stabbed you! Oh my god,” you start spiraling, “I stabbed someone.” You whisper. “Oh my god. Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

“Once again, we are God’s.” Namjoon states matter of fact. “Human weapons do not hurt us.”

Your eyes widen in complete shock, you look between the two men and start shaking your head—spiraling even further.

“God’s? God’s of what?” you breathe out. “This is…this is impossible.”

“God’s of time.” Jin snaps his fingers, “and do we have an offer for you.”

“W-What offer?” you plop down on your couch, your face has gone pale. What the hell is happening?

“Your soulmate, Park Jimin…” Namjoon begins. “Committed suicide last night.”

“And full offense girly, but it’s sort of your fault.” Jin chimes in. You feel your entire body go weak again.

“But we want to offer you something. We will roll back time by one month. Giving you the opportunity to make things right and save his life.”

“Turn back time?” you mumble, “That’s impossible.”

You watch as Jin rolls his eyes and with his pointer finger he’s making small circles.

“Turn back time?” You mumble, “That’s impossible.”

Suddenly you’re hit with Déjà vu. “Wait, didn’t I just say that?”

Jin grins and making small circles with his pointer finger again.

“Wait, didn’t I just say that?”

Your eyes go comically wide. “Woah. How did you do that?”

“God’s of Time, it’s literally our specialty.” Namjoon says.

“This girl really don’t listen.” Jin sits down on the couch next to you and you try scooting away.

“Okay…say you really can turn back time…why one month? And why are you giving me this chance?”

“One month because that’s how long it will take to change Jimin’s mind. And because…” Namjoon’s eyes slide to the side…”We were sort of pressured into this.”

“By who?”

Ding Dong

“Great, they’re here.” Jin whines, “I was hoping we would have more time with the human by ourselves.”

“Who’s here?” you start to panic, “Who pressured you?”

“Pressure? That’s not very nice to say.” You hear a new voice and it startles you. “Hi there.” You look up to see two new bodies in your living room. “We are—”

“Great, they’re going to sing.” Namjoon sighs. “On with it then.”

“Taehyung and Hoseok!” They say as melodically as possible, “God’s of Fate!” You swear you can see flowers and hearts and stars surround them.

“And we are not happy with you!” Taehyung dramatically pouts while pointing at you, “We have set up such a nice life for you but you always do the opposite. You really hurt our feelings.” Hoseok smiles a huge ass smile, ultimately confusing you further.

“God’s of fate?” you stand up and shake your head frantically. “What’s happening? What’s happening?”

“If you would have followed our path—the natural path—then you and Jimin would be happily together right now.” Taehyung lightly scolds you.

“But instead…” Hoseok begins, “You did the opposite of what we wanted and now look what happened.” He says with a smile still. “You messed with the natural order of things.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault? That Jimin is…”

“Didn’t I literally say it was your fault?” Jin questions and Namjoon swats his arm. “It’s okay though girly, we are offering you a chance to fix this. You can save his life.”

“He’s right y/n.” Namjoon walks closer to you, “You can save his life.”

You can save Jimin? How is this even possible? Suddenly, you hear faint knocking on your front door.

“Oh man. They’re here.” Taehyung looks towards the door.

“Well, we knew they would show up.”

“Who? Who?” you ask, clearly not ready for more guests.

“May I?” Hoseok gestures towards the door, asking if he can open it. You just shrug at this point.

Hoseok walks to the door and swings it open, revealing two more men.

“Oh if it isn’t mister sunshine and sunshine Junior.” The shorter man says under his breath as he walks past Hoseok and Taehyung. Another man following closely behind.

“We actually like those nicknames.” Taehyung says with a smile. “But yes, what are you doing here?”

“You know why we’re here.” The taller man smirks. “We have a soul we don’t intend on returning.”

“Who the fuck are you two?” you grit out, clearly tired of everyone at this point.

“Yoongi.” The shorter man states like he’s bored.

“And I’m Jungkook.”

“Okay? And?”

“Introduce yourselves properly you fools!” Jin yells out.

“Right right.” Yoongi nods his head subtlety, “God’s of Death.”

Your eyes widen in terror. God’s of Death? “So you kill people? Oh my god…you killed Jimin…”

“Okay, one… we don’t kill people.” Yoongi states and Jungkook jumps in.

��But we do like it when they die.” He says with big doe eyes and Yoongi’s expression changes like the realization has hit him.

“Yes,” he admits. “We do like that.”

“Actually we love it.” Jungkook pipes in again.

“Yes, we do love it.” Yoongi comments nonchalantly.

“And two… Jimin offed himself, we just wait to retrieve his soul.”

“His soul is all we’re interested in.” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “That’s all.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Taehyung mutters underneath his breath.

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on and why you all are in my apartment?”

“Damn girl, you really don’t listen.” Jin puts a hand on his hip.

Namjoon steps closer to you again and pats you on the back, urging you to take a seat.

“Taehyung and Hoseok are the God’s of fate, they want to bring you and Jimin together for your epic love or whatever…Jin and I may owe them a favor. So here we are, the God’s of Time…offering you a chance to turn back time and save Jimin’s life. But the God’s of Death over here…” he gestures towards Yoongi and Jungkook, Jungkook looks at you with a wink, “…don’t want that. They’re here to stop you so they can keep their soul like the soul hungry bastards they are.”

The other 5 men nod their heads in agreement as you look at each of them incredulously.

“And you expect me to believe this?” you wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and sigh out heavily, not believing a word.

“Should you stab me again?” Jin offers with a grin, showing you his little human knife you just stabbed him with earlier.

“What??” Jungkook slumps his shoulders, “Jin got stabbed and I missed it?” Jungkook frowns, “I always miss the good stuff…anyway, I vote you stab him again.”

“No!” you’re quick to yell out. “No more stabbing.”

Jungkook physically deflates once again, clearly disappointed.

“y/n…” Namjoon puts his hand on your shoulder, “Make your decision. Do you want to save Jimin or not?”

Of course you want to save Jimin…you don’t want someone you know dead, like come on. But what does it mean to save him?

“Follow our path.” Taehyung whispers to you, “The natural path.”

“You mean your predestined bullshit?” you spit out and Taehyung and Hoseok frown.

“It’s not bull…” then he whispers, “shit.”

“You can say cuss words sunshine junior.” Yoongi smirks, “come on, say ‘fuck’ just once.”

“No!” Taehyung whines

“Stop trying to make our Taehyungie do bad things!” Hoseok stands in front of Taehyung, defending him.

“I’ll say ‘fuck’.” Jungkook looks around the room raising his hand, offering his foul language.

“You already say it all the time, doesn’t count.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Get sunshine junior to say it though and I’ll give you 5 bucks.”

“Come on bro, say ‘fuck’ let me get 5 dollars.” Jungkook begs.

“Human money literally means nothing to us?” Jin questions.

“I still like to collect it.”

“Collecting souls isn’t enough?” Namjoon deadpans.

“I’m a collector, leave me alone.”

“More like a hoarder…” Yoongi cuts in, sighing out.

“Okay!” You stand, “Enough!”

“Finally, someone with some sense.” Namjoon says, “So are you taking us up on our offer? Going to save Jimin’s life?”

“Listen girly, take the offer. Be a hero. Because right now you’re technically the villain.” Jin says matter of fact, his hip poking out as his hand rests on it.

“Or live the life you want. It’s not your fault lover boy offed himself.” Yoongi walks closer to you. “He basically gave his soul for free.”

“You know Jimin was a good person…” Hoseok tells you, “You could feel it.”

You feel yourself grow guilty…this should be a no brainer right? You may not like the idea of soulmates but Jimin doesn’t deserve…this. He deserves to live.

“I’ll do it. I’ll make things right with Jimin, I’ll save his life.” Your firm voices echoes throughout the apartment and Jungkook scoffs.

“You think you can change his mind in a month? He’s set in stone, sweetheart.”

“One…gross, don’t call me sweetheart, and two, I can try.”

“Have fun trying with us by your side.” Yoongi states, a scowl taking over his face.

“She will have us buy her side as well.” Taehyung offers, “We will guide her every step of the way. You can rely on us, rely on fate.”

You roll your eyes, you don’t want any of these guys by your side.

“Is this your final decision?” Namjoon asks, he looks at you with a serious expression and you shudder.

“…Yes.”

“Did you hear that besties? Girl has made her final decision. Shall I do the honors?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. When you wake up y/n…it will be one month ago yesterday. Are you prepared for that?”

“Will I be aware?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Remember you have 30 days to make things right.” Namjoon reminds you and you nod your head.

“Okay, here we go!” Jin spins in circles and you all watch him …it’s lasting for several seconds too long, you grow confused. Jin keeps twirling around, doing little curtseys and now he’s doing the fucking robot…until Namjoon stands up.

“For heaven’s sake.” He uses his finger to spin in circles and things start fading to black, time slowly turning backwards.

May 21

It’s morning. You check your phone and it’s around 7am on Friday, May 21st. What the actual hell. It worked? You went back in time, right? This isn’t just some really incredible, elaborate prank right?

“If you’re thinking if this really happened…it did.” You hear Namjoon speak up from across your room.

“And if you’re thinking ‘wow these two super handsome guys really did that?’ we did.” Jin says hovering over you in bed. You can’t help but yelp, still surprised of their presence.

“Why are you guys here still?”

“Oh honey, it’s not just us.” Jin says matter of fact.

“It’s us too!” Hoseok says cheerily.

“Hoseok and Taehyung too?” you question slowly, your eyes scanning the room.

“Please,” Taehyung throws a hand over his heart, “Call us Hobi and Tae.”

“It’s just you four—”

“You really need to go grocery shopping.” Jungkook walks in the room with an apple in his hand, he brings it to his mouth and takes a crunchy bite.

“And as expected of the human world, the TV is trash.” Yoongi walks in after him, throwing your remote on your bed.

“Why the hell is everyone still here?” you yell out, grabbing at your hair. “I thought I was on a solo mission now!”

“Oh baby girl, it’s not just you anymore” Jungkook smirks, taking another obnoxious bite of his apple—your apple.

“Okay, if I didn’t want to be called sweetheart what makes you think baby girl is gonna pass?”

“I don’t know, thought I’d give it a shot.” He shrugs.

“Anyway,” you roll your eyes. “What do you mean it’s not just me?”

“You insist on saving Jimin’s life…we insist on keeping his soul. We have opposing goals here.” Yoongi explains, a bored expression drawn on his face. “We are going to make sure you are not successful. We can only interfere so much though.”

“And we,” Hobi cuts in, “Are here to make sure you are successful. You see, we are here to guide you on your little journey.”

“Think of us as your friends.” Tae grins at you.

“Yeah, I’d rather not.” You deadpan.

“And you two?” You point at Namjoon and Jin. “What is your purpose?”

“To make sure you don’t fuck up, to put it simply.” Jin states. “You do that a lo—Ow!” Namjoon hits Jin in the gut.

“What Jin is trying to say is, we are giving you a total of 3 mess ups. Once you strike through all 3, you’re on your own. We won’t manipulate time any more for a human like you.”

“A human like me?”

“I just mean, a human in general.” He clarifies and you relax.

“Can others see you?” You ask, quite curious. This whole thing is curious actually. You have 6 God’s chilling in your room right now and you are surprisingly chiller than you thought you’d be.

“They will…” Hobi’s eyes slide to the side. “Listen,” he sways on his feet. “We are going to be spending a lot of time together this next month so let’s all get along.” He smiles that big ass smile and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, let’s all get along!” Tae chirps, “Except maybe not with these two.” He points at Yoongi and Jungkook. Jungkook narrows his eyes at Tae and slumps his shoulders.

“I’m gonna get you to say ‘fuck’ sunshine junior, mark my words.”

“Not likely.” Tae narrows his own eyes before he’s spinning on his heels to face you again happily. “y/n.” he sings out, “Our new companion!” Hobi joins in on his song, they both start humming and whistling and suddenly Hobi is rapping. It’s all too much, really.

“Yo yo yo, Jin is in the house too—OW!”

“Anyway,” Namjoon brings a small book from his pocket. “There’s rules. Just a couple.”

“Rules?” you mumble, “What rules?”

“Rule number 1,” Jin starts, “You can’t tell Jimin you’re aware of his suicidal thoughts—this can just have more negative effects. Keep his little secret.”

“And rule number 2,” Namjoon closes the little notebook. “You can’t tell anyone about us.” He gestures towards all 6 of them. “You have to swear on this book.”

“What happens if either of those things happen?” You ask.

“Oh they won’t girl.” Jin shakes his finger at you. “Once you swear on a God’s book…you are bound to secrecy. You will literally not be able to talk about it. Your mouth will physically shut.”

“Jin’s right.” Hobi says, “That’s the law of the God’s promises.”

“And you are promising to us.” Tae adds in.

“That’s just the way it is.” Yoongi comments nonchalantly as he picks at his nails.

“Fine, fine. I get it. I’ll swear on the book.” You get up from bed and walk towards Namjoon, you eye his little notebook and then you look at him incredulously.

“Book of the God’s my ass! You can buy this exact notebook from the dollar store!”

“I like human objects too.” He mumbles shyly, “But it is property of the God’s so…are you going to sign it or not?”

“Do I…do I have to like sign with my blood or some—”

“—Yes.” Jungkook says.

“No, no. Stop that Jungkook,” Namjoon pulls out a pen from his pocket. “Just a regular pen. Also probably from the dollar store you speak of.”

“Okay, I got it…” you grab the pen from him and sign your name to the paper. The notebook starts shining a bright gold, almost blinding you. Then the glow fades and you see your signature in gold letters.

“It is done.” Namjoon says, nodding at the others.

“We are going to be with you as much as possible.” Taehyung smiles at you, “So please take care of us.” He bows his head towards you and you wave him off.

“You guys do realize I still have to work right?”

“Oh,” Namjoon’s eyes slide to the side, “We are prepared for that.”

“How are you prepared for—”

~~~~~

You sit in your little cubicle in complete and utter shock, your jaw literally on the floor.

“And this is our new team of writers, editors, and soundtrack producers. They’ll be working on a new game that is still under wraps.” Your boss gestures towards 6 men. The same fucking 6 men that were just in your apartment. Can you even call them just men? They are God’s!

“Please introduce yourself to the rest of the staff.”

“Right, I am Namjoon in charge of writing along with my partner Jin—”

“Jin is me, yes hi. Call me Worldwide—Hey!” Namjoon swats Jin’s stomach. But Jin recovers quickly, blowing a kiss around the office.

“I’m Tae.” Tae brightly waves at everyone, “In charge of editing scripts. Please take care of me.”

“And I’m Hobi, also in charge of editing! Let’s get along everyone!”

“Yo. Names Yoongi.” He quietly says, waving like a shy child.

“I am Jungkook, I am single and I—”

“They’re in charge of soundtrack production.” Namjoon cuts in. “Nice to meet you all.”

The office starts to quietly applaud, nodding their heads in approval as you sit here with your jaw on the floor. There is no way…absolutely no way this is happening.

“Ah, y/n!” Your boss calls out for you, he’s already walking to your desk. “Namjoon here says you all know each other, so I would like for you to help get them get settled in.” The group of 6 men follow behind him. You look at Namjoon like he is absolutely insane.

“Help them how?” you ask quietly. “Like, show them where the coffee maker is? Oh, look. Its right over there.” You point to the left of you. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh y/n! You’re so funny!” Jin slaps his knee, “I need help with some formatting on the first script I have…apparently you know a thing or two about that.” He grins at you and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry…” Hobi begins, his eyes looking around the office. “We won’t just rely on you for help around here…ah! There he is!” Hobi nudges Tae shoulder. “Jimin!” he begins waving the man over.

Jimin looks around the office as if he isn’t the only one with that name. He points at himself and mouths ‘me?’ Hobi and Tae smile widely and nod their heads in unison as they wave him over.

“Yes?” Jimin walks up to you all, his eyes on you…he feels himself grow nervous. “Can I help you?”

“Actually yes.” Tae starts, “Boss man here says you’re an editor just like us, maybe you can show us the ropes.”

“Ah.” Jimin slowly nods his head with his mouth slightly open. “I see.” Then he is nervously looking at you again. “Is that okay? For us all to be working together?” he looks at you while asking this and you scoff.

“I don’t control your life Jimin, do what you want.” You spit out and Jin hits your arm.

“What she means to say is, yes of course we can all work together!” he sings.

You release a long breath, remembering you are on a mission. You muster the fakest smile you can and make eye contact with Jimin.

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” You continue to grin and Jimin scrunches his brows as he slowly nods his head again.

“O...kay…”

Hobi jumps in excitement and repeatedly hits Tae’s arm, like he just got an amazing idea.

“Why don’t we all go out tonight to celebrate?”

“What are we celebrating?” you deadpan but Jin hits your arm again and leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Remember…fate is guiding you. Do as they say.” He says through a tight lip smile.

“Yeah…” you find the energy to say, “Sounds fun…let’s do that.”

You hate this. You are only barely talking to Jimin but you can feel the pull intensify with every word you say to him and every word he speaks to you goes straight to your heart and your fucking vagina.

To call Jimin attractive is an understatement. He is beyond that…he is beyond handsome, beyond cute, beyond gorgeous and beyond sexy. He has a charming way about him, his sharp jawline, his smile with those full, full lips, his eyes. He is effortlessly beautiful…and it drives you absolutely insane.

You remember the first time you saw Jimin…love at first sight? Also an understatement.

He was blonde then. His hair swept across his forehead, you would almost think that was his natural color because it looked that god damn good on him. Now his hair is black and holy hell, it is also his color. But you might think any color is.

“Celebrate how?” Jimin speaks up, his eyes going to Hobi.

“Drinks!” Tae chimes in, “But only one because we all have to work in the morning.” He chuckles and the rest of the boys join in.

“I don’t believe in hangovers.” Jungkook says with his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk gracing his features.

“You literally had one like 3 days ago.” Yoongi comments, “You also said ‘I’m never drinking again’”

“That was a different Jungkook.” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I’ve matured since then.”

“Yeah, right.” You laugh. “Also you guys realize tomorrow is Saturday…”

You actually laugh and the 7 boys snap their heads towards you and smile. All but Jimin…and kind of Yoongi.

“What?”

“You can laugh!!!” Jin takes your hand and high fives himself with it. “Amazing.”

“And you laughed because of me!” Jungkook cheers. “God, I knew I was fucking hilarious.”

“Chill out, kid.” Yoongi shakes his head.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “There’s a bar in the building next to us. We can meet at 7.”

“Actually let’s meet right after work, we can all walk together.” Hobi looks at you knowingly and you roll your eyes.

“Right. Okay, after work then.”

“Sure…” Jimin says slowly, “I will meet you guys here then.” Then he’s taking one last look at you before walking away back to his side of the office.

“Are you guys fucking insane?!” You whisper shout towards the 6 gods. “You work here now?!”

“We have to keep an eye on you and make sure everything goes smoothly…” Tae pouts, he messes with his neck tie nervously. “I even bought these cool human clothes…I thought maybe you would notice.”

“Yeah, yeah. You look nice.” You gesture towards his body and you swear you can see puppy dog ears and tail wagging behind him from how happy he is.

“What about me? What about me?” Jin motions towards his own body as he winks at you.

“You? Fine you look nice too.”

Jungkook slowly walks in the middle of your circle and shows off his outfit to all of you, spinning in a few circles.

“And me baby girl?”

“Call me baby girl one more time and I swear I will kick—”

“Jeez, no need to be aggressive!” Jungkook puts his hands up in surrender. “I’ll take the L for now.”

“Namjoon, please say something as the only person here who is sane.” You turn to face Namjoon and he is looking down at his own outfit.

“Human clothes are so boring.” Is all he says.

You can’t help but groan…then you feel it. Eyes on you. Not just any eyes. His eyes. You follow the feeling until your eyes meet his, he immediately looks away and you feel a sense of guilt. Jimin is going to kill himself? And it’s supposedly your fault? Can you fix this? Can you change his mind? Can you save his life? Can you?

~~~~~

The bar is quiet, well it is only like 5pm. But you assume in the coming hours it will be booming thanks to it being a Friday night. You are seated between Tae and Hobi as they fill your mind with thoughts of Jimin while he is in the bathroom.

“Can’t you just feel how badly he wants to sit next to you? His jealousy that you’re between us?” Tae giggles. “I can’t technically feel his yearning like you can but dudes, it’s so obvious.”

“I get it, I get it.” You groan, “So what’s the plan?”

“Oh that? You are going to ask Jimin out on a date.”

“A d-date?!” you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not at all…” Hobi takes a sip of his beer with a fucking straw. “Trust us.”

You’re really about to trust mister sunshine and sunshine junior? They are drinking their beers with straws. Fucking straws.

“ You don’t owe Jimin anything.” You hear Yoongi’s voice from behind you. “You don’t want to be here y/n. Why are you forcing yourself?”

“She just wanted to hang with me.” Jungkook nudges Tae out of his barstool seat and takes it.

“Heeeey…” Tae pouts as he is left standing, watching Jungkook take his chair. “I was sitting there.”

“Say ‘fuck’ and I’ll give it back.”

“You’re mean.”

“Anyway,” you cut them off before they can continue, “Why do you want his soul so bad? Aren’t there more souls out there?”

Yoongi for the first time curls his lips upwards and smirks at you.

“Jimin is a pure soul. It’s worth more. And he gave it for free, his own will. That much more worth it.”

“Pure soul?” You raise a brow, is Jimin really that perfect? You can’t help but scoff.

“He’s a really good person, y/n.” Hobi says softly, “You know you can feel that.”

He’s right. When you first met him and you had that instant recognition, you could feel just how good he is. It hurt even more, considering how things went…

“I have shots!!!!” Jin comes up to you 5 with a tray of shots, “As the kids say, I am trying to get lit!”

“Barely anyone says that anymore dude.” Jungkook frowns, “Which is unfortunate because it… was…lit...”

“Where’s Jimin?” Namjoon asks, grabbing a shot from the tray, he takes a sniff and fake gags.

“Jesus Christ, I told you anything but Tequila, Jin.”

“He’s in the bathroom…” you say, your head falling in your hand on the bar top. You stare at all the bottles on the shelves and wish you could drown yourself in each one.

“I’m back.” Jimin says from beside you and Jungkook.

It looks like he washed his face with cool water, his bangs slightly wet. He’s nervous, you can quite literally feel it…that’s how intense it is.

“Jimin…” you say his name and it sounds and feels so weird on your tongue, his head whips in your direction with wide eyes and he tilts his head to the side.

“Yes?”

You two lock eyes, his gaze is intense. You can’t help but feel like you’re falling for some sort of spell as you stare at him. The pull between you two only grows…you find yourself leaning in closer to his direction before you’re shaking your head, clearing your throat and looking towards the other boys.

“Uh, there’s shots.” You point at the tray Jin is holding. “Let’s hurry up and take them.”

A few hours pass and your group is collectively drunk. Jimin seems to be the only somewhat sober one. Even Yoongi is shimmying to whatever song is playing! You look at Namjoon who is smiling at Jin as they talk to one another and you wave them over.

“I thought human things didn’t effect God’s? Why are you all so drunk?” you laugh, slurring your words.

“Alcohol is alcohol baybey!” Jin throws an arm around your neck as he continues to dance.

“Jin is right.” Namjoon points at him, “Alcohol is the same for us.”

You only nod in response as you eye the bar, Hobi and Tae are dancing with Jimin and he actually looks like he is enjoying himself. You stand from your stool and walk to the dance floor and join them, surprising Jimin.

“Came to hang out with the fun go—guys?!” Hobi moves his body expertly as he speaks.

“Just came to talk to Jimin…” you admit shyly and Hobi and Tae nod in understanding with their eyes wide.

“Good idea.” Tae yells out, “We will keep Yoongi and Jungkook distracted.”

“Thanks…”

“You want to talk to me?” Jimin says over the music, “Me?” he points at himself and you chuckle.

“Yes, you.” You reach down to grab his hand and fuck. You feel like you are being shot with electricity. “Uh,” you quickly drop his hand and gesture for him to follow you. “Come on.”

You and Jimin walk outside the bar, the night is a little chilly, even for May.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks nervously, he sways back and forth on his heels and you can feel his anxiety and it’s making you nauseas.

“Go on a date with me.” You blurt out.

Jimin is silent. His eyes harden as he stares at you and he breathes out roughly.

“You’re drunk.” He states.

“Don’t be difficult.” You begin, “Go on a date with—”

“No.”

“No?”

“You think I can’t feel it?” he asks quietly. “How much you…hate me…?”

You automatically get hit with a wave of guilt. He releases a few shaky breaths and continues. “You are forcing yourself…I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable around me.” He gives you a sad, soft smile and turns around to head back inside, leaving you out in the chilly May air.

“I thought you guys were fucking gods? I did what you told me and he fucking rejected me?!” you slur out angrily. Tae and Hobi exchange awkward glances before smiling for you.

“You have to put a lot of effort. Remember…you are working hard to change his whole mind. It isn’t going to be easy y/n. Even with us helping. We lead you on the right path but ultimately you humans do have free will.” Hobi says quietly, he looks around the bar to make sure no one can hear.

“And like Jungkook said…at this moment, Jimin is set in stone. It’s going to take some convincing.” Tae finishes. He messes with his neck tie some more before he is loosening it all the way. “And you better hurry to talk to him because he is with Yoongi and Jungkook. Who knows what nonsense they are feeding him!”

You look over your shoulder and Tae is right, Yoongi and Jungkook both have an arm draped over Jimin’s shoulders and chatting away. They both have sly smiles as Jimin nods his head in drunken concentration.

“Help me get rid of them…” you roll your eyes as you begin walking towards the God’s of death and their meal.

“You got it!” Hobi yells out brightly. “Let’s go TaeTae.” He grabs on to Tae’s arm and drags him towards the death gods. You follow closely behind eyeing Jimin carefully.

It’s a lovely spring day, the flowers are in bloom and the sky is blue with splashes of pink now that the sun is beginning to set. You finally found your dream job that you start in 2 weeks and an affordable apartment. It’s not thaaat much nicer than your previous place but still, an upgrade nonetheless.

Today you woke up feeling…different. Fuller, more whole. Something completely unexplainable. Once you stepped outside even the world looked more beautiful, colorful, vibrant. Your chest is warm and buzzing and you can’t help but fall in love with the feeling. What is going on?

You walk the streets in your restless city and you feel it. The pull. The pull is practically dragging you around without you totally realizing. You just walk the streets in a daze, the pull becomes more and more intense the closer you get to the main park downtown. You realize you don’t visit this park often which is such a shame because it is beautiful.

You stroll around, feeling yourself being pulled closer and closer to this gigantic tree in the center and then you feel your insides burst. Your eyes land on a figure, you can only see his back but you just know. He must feel it too because he is quickly turning his body around and facing you. His eyes find yours immediately and holy fuck.

You know him. As soon as your eyes meet you feel like you fucking know him. You feel yourself being drawn to him like there is spell you are both under. You don’t stop your feet from moving as you walk closer and closer. He only stares at you with wide eyes until his thick lips curve up into the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. Little did you know, this would be the only time you will see him smile like this.

Love at first sight? He is the most gorgeous human being you have ever had the pleasure of your eyes landing on. His blond hair swept over his forehead, his piercing eyes, his full lips, his entire figure. His beautiful, beautiful smile. He has charmed you. And it doesn’t help that you feel that instant attraction. That recognition and the intense, intense burst of love you feel.

But it is not your love that you are feeling. It is his. Because you feeling love for a someone you don’t actually know is impossible…that this is just some forced, predestined façade. And you are hit with the reality and the truth. You feel your insides turn from a gooey mess to hard. You feel yourself grow angry, you feel hatred grow within you and it must be intense because Jimin must feel it too. The way his smile drops and how his face goes pale. He takes a hesitant step away from you and looks at you with so much question. He feels how you loathe him.

You continue to look at Jimin as you walk closer and closer to him in the bar, Tae and Hobi pulling Yoongi and Jungkook off his body as you make your way over. Even walking closer and closer to him you feel all of your confusing feelings. You hate him yet you are drawn to him.

“Jimin.” You say his name, it comes out rough and breathless and he pinches his brows together.

“Yes?” he asks softly, he walks closer to you as well. “Is everything okay y/n?”

You swallow down your pride as you stare into his eyes. They look sad…empty even.

“Date…” you murmur. Jimin’s sad, empty eyes flash with a sliver a hope before they turn dark again.

“Why?” he finally asks…he walks just a bit closer to you and you step back, feeling suffocated. If he gets any closer you…

“I want to make things right.” You admit between a few breaths, “I want to get to know you.”

You aren’t lying, you do want to make things right. He doesn’t necessarily know what you mean but that’s okay. “I haven’t been the nicest to you but I want to change that.” You mumble.

“You want to know me?” he gulps, “You want to…spend time with me?” you can feel how nervous he is and you can’t help but chuckle just a bit.

“Coffee? We can start there.” You say, feeling your own nerves spiking. Who knew talking to your fucking soulmate could be this hard.

Jimin bites down on his thick bottom lip, his cheeks warming up as they turn a lovely shade of pink.

“Okay….” He says, trying to hide his growing smile “Coffee.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin angst #gods!au #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #the hero's countdown chapter 1

180 notes · View notes

swbumblebee · 3 years

Text

“C’mon Obes, just this once, it’s been ages!”

Plo Koon opened his eyes behind his mask, dropping out of his communion with the Force at the irritatingly whining tone from behind the next set of bushes.

He was in one of his favourite meditation spots in the temple gardens. The foliage providing cover and allowing him to remain secluded and undisturbed, but to still hear the others in the garden; chatting quietly, playing, meditating. Going about their day. Mace called it his eavesdropping spot, but truly he never meant to hear specifics, he just loved the hum of his family’s lives around him. Taking a moment to appreciate everyone.

Besides, Jedi were by and large a quiet, unobtrusive lot. There wasn’t usually much to catch.

Not so Senior Padawan Quinlan Vos.

Plo didn’t dare peak around the corner, but he recognised the steady bright presence that accompanied the rather loud twenty-two-year-old.

“I’ve told you Quinlan, I can’t. I’ve got Anakin, He’s not ready to be left on his own yet. Besides, I can’t just ditch him to go and get hammered on a Taungsday night!”

Obi-Wan sounded stressed, and tired, Plo thought. Despite Mace and Plo’s best efforts over the last six months, the young Knight was clearly struggling to find his balance under the weight of his new responsibilities. And Plo still caught the occasional snatch of deep sadness, leaking out from behind his shields over tea.

“No you’re right” Vos’ tone was dripping sarcasm. “If only there was somewhere nearby, where you could leave him in the hands of trained child-care professionals…”

Plo heard a light whacking noise.

“I can’t just dump him in the creche, he doesn’t know anybody yet it’s not fair.”

“Obi-Wan man you’re killing me. You’re going to have the kid for the next like, fifteen years! Are you just going to give up on fun until he’s knighted? You’ve got to relax at some point!”

Despite his rather brash manner, Plo thought Padawan Vos had hit the nail on the head; The first time around, in that other time, Plo had been honoured to call Master Kenobi a friend. But four years on the council together, fighting a war side by side, and Plo had absolutely no idea what Obi-Wan had liked to do for fun. He had never, not once, seen the man relax and it was widely believed to be something he was fundamentally incapable of. Always jumping into the next problem, working all hours, and putting absolutely everything he had into achieving his goals.

It definitely wasn’t healthy. If things hadn’t gone the way they did, Plo was fairly certain Master Kenobi would have had some kind of break down sooner rather than later.

That particular personality trait needed curbing this time around. And fast.

“Vos I can’t “relax” right now” Plo almost heard the air quotes “I have a Padawan, he needs me. He’s so far behind and I have so much to learn. We have an unbelievable amount of work to do and I need to be here with him!” Obi-Wan was getting snappish now, temper fairly close to the surface in his stress. “I have responsibilities, I’m sorry, can’t just put everything on hold to go and party!”

Plo frowned unhappily. That wouldn’t do at all.

Mace would kill him…But he’d enjoy it really, he loved young Anakin, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. And Plo did see a new children’s Holomovie was out that he’d actually rather like an excuse to watch.

He heard a big sigh.

“I’m sorry”

The regret and tiredness in Obi-Wan’s voice made Plo’s mind up for him.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry too. I suppose I just thought we could do it like we used to, but you can’t go back I guess.” Vos was a good friend, Plo decided.

He was about to move when the young Kiffar continued.

“Remember when we got all those shots off those pilots, and you fell off the bar and cracked your head?”

Plo smiled to himself when Obi-Wan laughed, loud and jolly.

“Didn’t stop me though” he replied wryly, before sighing. “I think my days of falling off bars are behind me.” He said softly.

Not if Plo had anything to say about it.

He pulled out his communicator and started a message.

M – A coming to stay with you Taungsday night. OWK going out. Will be there to provide backup – P

Satisfied, (and after turning his communicator off) he allowed the voices of the two young people to drift over him, joining the hum of life around him, as he once again sunk into the Force.

---

As predicted, Mace gave him only a flimsy, token facade of annoyance, and the three of them had a cosy night in watching holofilms and working on Anakin’s literacy with some new books. The child was more outgoing than Plo remembered from the first time, thanks to their efforts. He was happy, utterly comfortable with them and coming along in leaps and bounds in his confidence and abilities.

Walking him back to the Kenobi/Skywalker flat on Zhellday morning, Plo was rather looking forward to unleashing the excitable ten-year-old on his poor Master. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting hungover Obi-Wan, and a small part of him was looking forward to seeing another side of the usually so composed man.

He was to be disappointed though. Sitting at the table drinking tea Knight Kenobi looked refreshed and energised. He gave them a big smile, standing up as they came in and appearing no worse for wear.

“Hi Master” Anakin bounded in for a hug “Did you have a good time? Me and Master Plo and Master Mace watched The Tale of Wando and it was so funny and we did some reading and I did a whole chapter and Master Mace gave me these wizard cakes, I saved you one but then I sat on it.”

Obi-Wan laughed at his Padawan’s eagerness.

“Breathe Padawan” he reminded. “I’m glad you had fun, I hope you weren’t any trouble for Master Plo” Anakin shook his head rapidly. “Good, well go and put your things away” Obi-Wan instructed, giving a subtle nod towards Plo.

“Yes Master” Anakin turned back to Plo. “Thank you for looking after me Master Plo” he said dutifully.

“It was my pleasure, young one. I will see you soon.”

He turned to Obi-Wan as Anakin disappeared into his room.

“You look well” he offered, pushing the barest hint of incredulity into the Force around them. Obi-Wan smiled ruefully and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah, yes I’m afraid I only managed three pints before I nearly fell asleep on the table” he offered sheepishly. “I think Quinlan was quite disappointed.”

Plo chuckled, shaking his head.

“We cannot stay teenagers, but it does not do to grow old too fast” he said gently, pouring himself a cup of tea from the pot on the table.

The young man gave him a disarmingly knowing look.

“Thank you Master”

“Anytime, my friend. You need only ask.”

#Space Dads Go Time Travelling #Plo Koon #Obi-Wan Kenobi #quinlan vos #obi-wan fanfic #Obi-Wan will learn to relax if its the last thing Plo does #Plo's a bit nosey #but I love him #bby Ani is the cutest

444 notes · View notes

psychovigilantewrites · 3 years

Text

Chapter 14 - A Different Point of View

Summary: Things that happened that you weren't aware of.

Word count: 9,163 words

A/N: Thank you for being so patient with me. I struggled with this chapter due to its nature. I had to further dive into Bruce and Dick's character that I wasn't too familiar with.2020 was a very tough year for me. I lost lots, learned lots. And I thought that the quarantine would mean I would write more. But I was wrong. Life hit me hard, and I stopped doing a lot of things I used to enjoy.Despite being virtually absent last year, you guys stuck by me anyway. Thank you. I love you all for that.Special thanks to my two beta readers. You know who you are. Here it goes.

(i recommend you guys read previous chapters to refresh coz I had to lol)

Ao3

Masterlist

The roles that people played were false- a mere necessity for their career or survival. Everyone was playing a role, whether it was of their own accord or not.

Bruce Wayne was a role- superficial, fake, yet vital to Gotham. Batman, on the other hand, was a completely different role, born out of exigence and a sense of justice.

Dick Grayson, however, genuinely enjoyed playing his role.

Nightwing felt right to him. Being a police officer felt right to him. And especially, if not ultimately, being an older brother.

He listened to the dial tone of his phone, which rung for a few seconds before you finally picked up.

“Hey,” Dick heard your voice, the usual chirp absent that day.

Dick frowned to himself. Bruce was right about you being troubled after all.

“Hey, sis!” he forced the concern out of his voice. “You busy?”

“Nah, I’m just going over some old case files. What’s up?”

Dick leaned back into his sofa. Aside from the traffic blaring outside, the silence in his apartment made it easier for him to concentrate on analysing your speech patterns.

“Can’t I call just to ask how you’re doing?” he teased, easing into the conversation.

Everyone had always told him how he was natural at talking.

“You already called last week…”

Dick smiled to himself. He could already picture your narrowed eyes regarding him with suspicion.

It was good that you were always on your feet, but it was becoming borderline unhealthy. It reminded him of Jason and how he was always so guarded .

He pushed the memory away.

“I can’t call you again?” he rolled his eyes at no one.

“Bruce put you up to this,” you accused.

That’s because he’s worried about you, kid.

If only you knew how much Bruce had changed for you. Dick was glad that you were being loved by Bruce, yet he still couldn't help but feel slightly bitter that he never got that kind of treatment from his father- not the same treatment he gave you.

But he would rather die than admit his selfish thoughts to anyone.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “He was worried about you after last night.”

“I’m fine, Dick,” you insisted.

How many times has he heard those very same words from Jason?

“Well, if you’re not, then you can talk to me,” he offered.

A short pause.

Your response would be what differentiated you from his late brother.

“Actually, yeah,” you admitted.

There it was. No matter how stupid he knew it was for even comparing the two of you, he found that he always had to remind himself not to.

“How did you deal with it? Did it affect you?”

Dick told you his own experience with gore and dead bodies, how he overcame it, how he coped. There was silence after, and he just somehow knew what you were going to ask next.

“How did, uh, he deal with it?”

Your voice came in a whisper, hesitation evidently clear.

Dick was expecting it, but his heart still sank. He knew how everyone acted when Jason was brought up in conversation- he was guilty of reacting as well. He also knew how you were smart enough to avoid that topic.

It had been years. They should all have moved on, because Dick knew that they were also hurting you.

“He came to me as well.” Dick recalled Jason’s hesitant voice over the phone, never directly saying what was wrong, just rambling about things other than what was really going on in his head.

“Then he gradually called less and less when he learned how to deal with it himself.”

The day Dick noticed it, he was happy for Jason, but a small part of him was saddened that his little brother no longer needed him.

“I’ll have to look for that cognitive therapy, then. Thank you for calling, Dick. Talking to you helped.”

Did it really? He noticed your voice had changed again. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone on about Jason like that.

“No problem, kid. Call me if you need to talk, okay?”

The familiar beep left him isolated with his thoughts, wondering if you would trail in Jason's footsteps.

When will the day come when you eventually stop calling altogether?

***

He felt indebted to his city- the city he loved. The city he hated. The city that robbed him of his childhood.

He felt indebted to his family- the family he would give up everything for, the family he couldn’t stop hurting.

And he was sorry. God, he was sorry.

Sorry for everything he’s said and done- or didn’t do. But he still couldn’t stop. Because he didn’t know how.

Yet, no matter how much he claimed to love his family, the problem with Bruce Wayne was that he always expected them to be the people he wanted them to be.

Never like himself, though. No, he would never want them to turn out like him.

“That’s an order. Stay-”

The silence that followed the click in his ear represented the first time you had ever disobeyed a direct order.

It was a little late on your side. Dick and Jason had begun to disobey him within their first six months in uniform. But you had always been obedient- which made it easier for Bruce to trust you in the field.

This first time came as an unexpected and unwelcome surprise. And Bruce was…

Disappointed.

He grit his teeth when he saw you on the ground with the warehouse burning behind you. If he had just been a few seconds late, would you be in the fire, too?

“I almost had him.”

Bruce didn’t miss the wince of pain as you got up to your feet.

He had heard those exact words before countless times from J- no.

Bruce shoved that thought away.

“He would have gotten away, and we wouldn’t have known who it was that did this,” you argued, brows drawn together in a frown, mouth downturned. Your respiratory rate was high, and you were having trouble breathing.

When did you grow so tall? So confident?

Bruce silently pointed to the active security camera he noticed the minute he arrived and saw your expression fall- only for a second.

“I still think I made the right decision,” you insisted.

“You disobeyed a direct order.” He hated his own voice. The way he spoke sounded too militant.

“I acted how I saw fit,” you continued, “You always say to follow my instincts-”

“Not if your instincts contradict my orders.” He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. He thought he had changed. But no, Bruce was still a dictator.

“Wow. Just- wow.”

He could see the little twitches of annoyance within the disbelief on your face. He understood it completely.

You were walking away, clutching onto your side and weakly limping to your bike, adamant on not seeking his help.

He hated seeing you injured, in pain. It was his fault. If only he was faster, he could have stopped Red Hood from beating you up. If only he predicted it sooner, if only-

“I’ll be heading back now.”

He missed what you had said before that.

“Robin,” Bruce forced out, “Have Alfred check your injuries.”

He should have been there.

When you drove away, he lingered at the crime scene.

Bruce flipped a switch in his helmet, and his lense changed. Non-organic material lighted up bright white. He noticed a fractured piece of shrapnel lying on the ground, less than a centimeter long.

He picked it up and placed it into a test tube from his belt. Switching his view to normal, he saw that it was red, maybe made from fiberglass. He could only deduce that it was a piece of Red Hood’s helmet.

Despite Bruce’s frustrations at you for disobeying him, he felt a swell of pride. You probably landed a hit hard enough to crack the helmet just a little bit that you yourself probably didn’t even realise it.

He shone a UV light on it. A small portion of it glowed.

Bruce had always been numb when he played investigator so that he would remain impartial and objective. That was true justice.

But when he pocketed the evidence and sped to the Batmobile, he felt something he had never felt before.

Against all logic and rationality, he found himself dreading to uncover who the blood belonged to.

***

Bruce never drank his sorrows away. It was dangerous, too easy to develop an addiction to. He could have easily drowned in alcohol at any given chance, like when he thought of his parents, or when he thought-no, knew- he wasn’t enough.

But no, he only restricted his drinking for leisurely activities. He was disciplined. It was the reason why he was who he was.

However, in that moment, staring at the results of the DNA analysis after hours of anxious waiting, he wished he allowed himself a drink.

Not because he was distraught, not because he was in grief- but because he just didn’t know what to feel.

It wasn’t numbness. It was just plain confusion, an internal tornado of emotions whirling inside him all at once.

Footsteps.

He tapped on a button once, immediately closing the window of the test results displayed on the screen.

Composing himself, he clicked on another pending case to pretend he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. It’s just another role.

“Master Bruce.”

Why was he still up at this hour?

“Yes, Alfred,” he turned to meet the butler’s tired eyes- just as tired as his own.

Tired because of him.

Alfred was always up because of him. Because Bruce was a disease, constantly burdening others, dragging them down, keeping them up at night.

“I made some sandwiches. They’re light. Please do eat them,” he set the tray on the cluttered desk, simply pushing aside the numerous stacks of papers.

“Go to bed, Alfred,” he told him. Alfred was too old to be up at this hour. And whose fault is that?

“In due time,” he responded calmly, “What of the blood results, if I may ask?”

“Inconclusive,” Bruce lied.

“I see.”

Suspicion shrouded Alfred’s voice.

“How are her injuries?” Bruce asked, the pain finally creeping in, seeping into his bones.

“I commend you for asking about your daughter’s injuries after only four whole hours of staring at the screen, Master Bruce. You would definitely win father of the year.”

“I was occupied,” he sighed, “Please.”

“Her injuries are only superficial,” Alfred said, “Surface contusions at most.”

He still hurt her.

“Thank you, Alfred. Now go to bed.”

“It was only a little more than two decades ago when I was telling you the same,” he grumbled away.

Bruce made sure Alfred was gone before pulling up the results on the screen again, the glaring ‘MATCH’ sign staring angrily back at him as if it were shouting at Bruce, yelling in rage.

And Bruce understood completely. He had failed Jason Todd. He had betrayed him. And now he was back, vengeful, and full of resentment.

But that didn’t matter to Bruce.

Because despite it all, his son was alive.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

***

What did my son do to my daughter?

Bruce watched in horror as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed, hooked to the IV bag. He couldn’t stop staring at the bruises littering your neck.

Bruises that were far too small and evenly shaped to be the effect of a mere throttling.

He knew how the people close to him viewed him. He knew they thought he was strong, unforgiving, cold, emotionless. Especially when they put him side by side with Clark.

But he forced himself to be those things, because if he didn’t, he would have broken down years ago.

He was used to it. The pain. The darkness.

But this time, he felt like he was being crushed.

He felt like he was hanging on by a thread- no. A delicate strand of thin, brittle hair.

“It’s okay, doctor,” you had said, “I know what you’re going to ask me. No, my genitalia does not hurt. He didn’t do anything to me.”

He felt a wave of relief crash over him.

Jason wasn’t that far gone, then.

But as Bruce looked at your neck again, he still couldn’t help but feel nausea crawling into his core.

He still touched her.

Jim left after his questioning, and you drifted to sleep. He went over to you and looked down at your face, taking everything in.

Since when did you look so mature? When did you get so beautiful?

He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Even in sleep you had your eyebrows tugged down, as if you were angry that you had to go to bed. He didn’t know why he never saw that small part of you that shouted rebellion despite you almost always following his orders.

He realised that when he watched you sleep, you looked a bit like- no. Don’t ever compare the two.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to convey all of his feelings to you.

He was sorry. So god damned sorry for dragging you into this, for hurting you, for pulling you down to the depths with him.

Hoping you didn’t feel the teardrop that fell to your forehead, he quickly wiped it away before leaving for his press statement.

***

“Master Bruce, please!”

Another crash.

Alfred’s plea snapped him out of his blinding fury, his crushing pain.

He was standing at the hallway near the Manor entrance, glass and broken wood shattered at his feet, feeling the walls closing in and narrowing as Alfred looked at him in alarm.

“I-I’m sorry, Alfred. I-” he stammered, feeling like the small, helpless boy who watched his parents die before him.

He remembered the time when he was little, only a couple of months after the tragedy. He had done the exact same thing, taking out his anger and anguish by destroying things, triggered by something he had long forgotten about.

At that time, Alfred had held him closely in his arms as he stained the butler’s suit with his snot and tears. Again, a burden to the man who raised him.

This time, he refused the old man’s offer of comfort, walking past to descend to the cold darkness of the cave he was so familiar with.

Bruce didn’t usually drink his sorrows away, but this time, he did.

***

Dick wasn’t a good person. He was far from it.

Case in example, it was the first time he saw you after your kidnapping.

He meant to come sooner, he really did. But he was just so busy in Bludhaven, he couldn’t spare any time to rush over the moment he heard his sister was hurt. He tried to justify it in his head by thinking that you were probably handling it fine.

But he was just trying to make himself feel better.

What a great brother he was.

“So, why are you obsessing over violent crimes?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

Desensitization was one thing when you worked in that field, but obsession was a whole other problem. And he didn’t want to see his sister walk down that path.

“A lunatic just kidnapped me a couple weeks ago, Dick, maybe this is my coping mechanism,” you huffed, giving him your signature eye roll.

A lot of things start with just a coping mechanism, kid.

Dick knew it about it all too well. The people he brought in on an almost daily basis, high as kites. The accident last week on the highway at three in the morning, two innocent lives taken because of a drunk man who had started drinking three years ago to cope with his mother’s loss.

The man downstairs in the cold cave, who was just a little boy when his parents died, now living with the trauma while going out night after night to beat up criminals, sleeping only three hours a day at most.

“I don’t want your pity, Dick,” you huffed, “I’m fine.”

Yeah, you were. And that was what worried Dick the most.

“I know you are,” he tried to smile, “Which is why I don’t think this is your coping mechanism.”

You talked to Dick about Red Hood, sharing your concerns about him. This is what made you, you. Opening up to him, offering your thoughts and feelings. It was something he never had with Bruce or Jason. The both of them were similar in that sense.

“He won’t tell me either,” Dick huffed, “It’s always been like that with him. No matter how hard I try to get closer to him, sometimes it feels like he’s getting further away.”

It was the same with Jason as well. Did everyone he cared about just end up running away from him?

“I can relate to that,” you sighed.

“But I have a feeling that he will tell you eventually,” Dick tried to comfort you, “It seems too important not to.”

Dick knew better. Bruce had always excluded information from him, whether it was important or not.

“And,” Dick hurriedly tried to change the subject, “I heard from Alfred that you’re not talking to Bruce. May I ask why?”

“So that’s why you’re here,” you eyed him suspiciously. . “I came to check up on you,” he stated, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come here right after, but my little sister did just get kidnapped.”

When are you going to stop putting your guard up around me, kid?

“I told you, I’m fine,” you insisted.

“Then you’re fine enough to tell me why you haven’t been talking to Bruce,” Dick pushed, “I won’t judge. I’ve had my fair share of cold shoulders and fights with him too. I know first hand how frustrating he can be. So come on, tell.”

He saw you hesitate for just a moment, before conceding.

“We fought,” you began, “It was when I got back from the hospital. He wouldn’t tell me who Red Hood was. And he- he called me ‘Jason’.”

Ah, fucking hell, Bruce.

“Jesus,” he whispered, “What did he say exactly?”

“‘Back down, Jason’,” your voice cracked.

Dick saw the way Bruce spiraled after Jason’s death, and he would never tell you this, but deep down he was against Bruce adopting you so soon after. He thought that Bruce was using you to fill up the hole he too felt with Jason’s absence.

You were so like him, yet so different. Still, Bruce must have been really distracted if he could slip as badly as he did.

Dick would ask later.

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard in years,” Dick chuckled humorlessly.

Jason arguing with Bruce about using excessive force. Jason sneaking out to go for patrols whenever he was grounded. Hell, even Jason stealing whiskey from the cabinet at the age of fifteen.

He could still remember it so clearly. Jason with his dark hair poking into his eyes that were full of fury, cheeks puffed up and red as he pouted angrily at Bruce for making him stay at the Manor on nights Bruce insisted on going alone.

Dick tried to shove the past away. He knew he was making you even sadder.

“Has Bruce made any attempts to reconcile?” Dick remembered the conversation he was having with you.

“Yeah, but I’m still mad at him,” you pouted.

“And you have every right to be,” Dick nodded, “But Bruce, well, you know Bruce. He keeps these things to himself, but obviously he’s still hurting.”

You have know idea how much he’s hurting, Little Wing.

You avoided Dick’s eyes, looking down at your fumbling thumbs as the room became silent.

“I’m seeing someone,” you changed the subject.

“You are?”

Interesting.

“Yeah,” you blushed, “It’s still very new, and we’re not official yet or anything. But we’re definitely testing the waters.”

“That’s great,” Dick grinned, “Who is he? Tell me the deets. Spill the tea.”

He sort of loved gossip. It wasn’t a secret.

“I met him in the library a while back,” you excitedly said, “We exchanged numbers. Started texting, meeting up from time to time. He’s really cute.”

Ah, young love. What Dick would give to be at that age again.

“I bet he is,” Dick teased.

“What’s with that face?” you laughed, “He is! He’s slightly older, and he’s got this sexy bad boy look, you know?”

“I thought you liked the nerdy types?” Dick responded. He saw a picture of you and your classmates on your Instagram. Typical prep school kids.

“I never had a type, you ass!” . “You’re right. I thought you were completely uninterested in boys,” he wondered out loud, “Is he nice, at least?”

“Yeah he is,” you smiled to yourself, “He didn’t know I was Wayne until 2 weeks ago. Before that, we were mainly texting. Now we’re meeting up more. I feel like I can be myself with him. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that makes me trust him.”

So you still have some of your walls up with me, but you trust a stranger? Who is this guy?

“I’m not going to tell him anything!” you quickly added, “I’m not stupid. I know I shouldn’t trust someone I just met. It’s not about the confidential stuff. It’s the little things like how I feel, and my problems, and just- stuff, you know?”

The thought didn’t even cross his mind. Dick trusted you enough with their secret, just as how Bruce did.

“I get it,” Dick tried to rationalise, “You don’t know what it is about the person, but you feel like the two of you just click, am I right?”

It had been like that with Barbara. It had been like that with Kory.

Now Dick was alone, and deep down he knew that they saw him as how he truly was. Selfish.

“Exactly,” you smiled, “Been with anyone like that before?”

“One or two,” he brushed it off, “People like that- whom you just click with- they’re hard to come by. You should see where this leads. Who knows, maybe he’s one of those that would stick around, huh?”

What he would give to have at least one person who would stick with him.

After he met with Gordon, Dick went to the cave to see Bruce who was, of course, facing the computers.

“I know what you’re going to say,” his father’s voice echoed without even turning to look at him.

“Then you know how much you’ve hurt her?” he crossed his arms.

Bruce did turn around to face him, and Dick suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

He knew that Bruce hardly ever slept, but this was different. He looked disheveled, his complexion pale, his eyes more bloodshot and the dark circles even more prominent.

Alfred did say how badly Bruce took the kidnapping, finding him passed out on the cave floor with an empty bottle of scotch in his hand, but he thought that Bruce would have gotten himself together by now. It was surprising to see him that way, and Dick felt… Uncomfortable.

Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the kidnapping, nor his fight with you.

“You found out something,” Dick narrowed his eyes, “Something important. What is it?”

He caught a flash of guilt in Bruce’s eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Bruce,” Dick groaned, “This is why you keep on hurting her.”

Hurting us.

“I’m protecting everyone.”

“You can’t use that excuse with me anymore,” he sighed, “I don’t need your protection. So tell me.”

“No.”

That was his final word, and he knew that Bruce would never budge.

“Fine,” he let out a breath, “Did you know that she’s seeing someone?”

Bruce frowned.

Which made Dick frown. Since when did Bruce miss things? What the fuck was going on with him?

“Name?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. And no, don’t you dare,” Dick pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Do not do a background check on him. She deserves privacy. Hell, don’t even bring it up. You have no right to go poking into her relationships.”

Dick was being defensive, but that was because he was trying to convince himself as well, which was why he didn’t ask you for a name. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“I wasn’t going to,” Bruce reassured, “She… She deserves a life. A normal life. Not this- not-”

Dick knew then he had to leave, because Bruce’s voice breaking meant he was far from okay, and he knew that Bruce hated to show his vulnerability to anyone.

“Bruce,” Dick said, this time softly, “You’re not alone, you know. I’ve been with you since the beginning, and I’m still with you now.”

And with that, Bruce turned his back towards him again, silently going back to his goddamned computers.

“He’s been that way ever since the kidnapping,” Alfred informed him when he walked up to the manor.

“I don’t think it’s just the kidnapping, Alf,” he frowned at the butler, “There’s something more to it. Did he figure out who Red Hood is?”

“Perhaps,” Alfred pursed his lips, “But he refuses to tell me.”

“That means we know him personally,” Dick theorised, “Who the hell could it be that he’s so adamant on keeping it a secret?”

“I do not know Master Dick, but it can’t be anyone good if he’s got Master Bruce drinking during the day.”

***

Bruce knew that he was wrong to call you by his dead son’s name.

But his dead son was supposed to stay dead instead of haunting him with that glaring red bat across his chest, and having that thought in his head all the time, he slipped up.

He prided himself with his contingency plans and detective skills and preparations, but no amount of time could ever prepare him for when he found out his dead son had sexually assaulted his daughter.

You seemed to have dealt with it surprisingly well, exceeding his expectations. In fact, Bruce thought it was a bit odd that you weren’t as affected by it.

And then he saw it.

He saw what he thought was the internalized anger you felt finally bursting through the seams of your tightly lidded emotions.

And he wasn’t prepared for it.

Bruce didn’t think you had it in you, or else he would never have made you Robin.

But there you were on the ground, beating a man beyond recognition.

He couldn’t dread this moment because he never saw it coming. Not from you. Never from you.

He hurriedly ripped you off the man, flinging you away with force.

Pulse was present, but weak. Flail chest. It took him only a few seconds to observe the damage you did to the man’s face. It didn’t look good.

“Stay back,” he growled at you when you came close.

He couldn’t look at you. He didn’t want to.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he heard you whisper.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered.

There was no other choice. He had to take the fall for you.

“NOW!” he snarled at you again. In the background, you were on the phone, but Bruce’s thoughts were elsewhere, calculating what needs to be done.

You moved-

“Leave. I’ll deal with this.” You needed to go. You couldn’t be here when the ambulance and police arrived.

“Batman-”

“I said leave,” he snapped. He couldn’t even hear your voice.

He waited for the ambulance to come before leaving, making sure they saw him escape. Making sure he would be the one the media would attack.

And while he drove back to the Cave, he decided to give his son a call.

“Bruce?”

“Dick,” he sighed. He knew he had always been unfair to his eldest, giving him so much pressure to perform, pushing him to be his best- and ultimately away. He knew that he never showed it, but he was proud of Dick. He always had been from the very beginning.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t a surprise that Dick picked up immediately that something was wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that calling him out of the blue was what gave it away, Bruce himself trained Dick.

“She- she crossed the line tonight,” he tried to explain, “Jerome Miller. She attacked him. The damage she’s done to him is irreversible. I suspect he will be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.”

“Jesus,” Dick breathed from over the line, “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I wasn’t there,” he grit. He thought he could trust you.

But deep down Bruce knew that it was all his fault after all. Who was he to act so righteous when he was the reason your parents died?

“I don’t know if she’ll talk to me, Bruce,” Dick sighed, “Not about something like this. She’s probably beating herself up over this already.”

“As she should.”

“Bruce.”

“Please,” Bruce asked, “I’m worried. She isn’t herself and I can’t blame her for it, but the chances of her talking to you are much higher than if I were to try.”

“I’ll try,” Dick agreed.

“Report to me after.”

“Bruce, we’ve talked about this,” Dick grumbled, “I am under no obligation to report to you. I’m doing this for her. Not you.”

He was trying not to go back to the man he was before, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

They’re your children, not your soldiers.

He had to remind himself time and time again. It was easier to be just a father to you as compared to Dick and Jason, yet even then he made slips.

“I know,” he apologised. “Thank you.”

Click.

And then Bruce was alone again.

***

Bruce watched you from the corner of his eye when you came back. He noticed that you had put more effort into dressing up when you left the house that day.

There was a slight bounce to your step and a small smile that played on your lips.

Dick was right after all. There was someone you were seeing.

But no, he couldn’t look into it. In fact, it would be hypocritical of him if he did. Dick had many girlfriends and flings, and Bruce didn’t want to know about any of them. Mainly because Dick was his first, and the thought of a boy he raised maturing and having relationships made him feel confused about parenthood.

Not that many of them lasted too long anyway.

Jason was a little different. While Dick had girls lining up after him all the time, Jason was much more subtle about the girls he liked, and that made Bruce more curious- but not enough to investigate.

He thought about when Barbara had caught Jason looking at her, making him turn red. He wondered if Jason would like you.

A tight squeeze in his chest.

He didn’t let his mind linger there.

Bruce felt obligated to protect you, which tempted him to investigate the boy you were seeing. It could be a trap, it could be someone using you for fame and money, or something even more sinister. Hell, it could be Jason himself after that stunt he pulled off.

But there was no evidence, and Bruce wanted to be a father to you this time instead of Batman the mentor. So Bruce would have to trust you on this one.

***

There was something holding Bruce back from telling everyone the truth about Jason.

And because he is who he is, Bruce knew what it was.

Guilt. He blamed himself for what had happened, and telling others about it meant owning up to his mistakes. Bruce never ran away from his fears and feelings despite what others might think. On the contrary, he held to them very strongly, using them as a motivation to fight head on.

This time, though, he felt more self destructive- the worst he had ever felt since he carried Jason’s corpse from the rubble- and so he tried to delay the inevitable.

But time was running out. He had enough time to wallow in self pity. It was time to pull himself together, and the first step began with Alfred.

The Cave was colder than usual that night, air thin and darker despite the illumination he had provided. Bruce was slumped in his usual wheeled chair, cowl resting on the desk after patrol, the weight of his suit almost crushing him in his weakened mental state.

“Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Please, take a seat. I have something to tell you.”

“I assume this is about the identity of one criminal who has been terrorizing your daughter?” Alfred retorted, sitting down anyway.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “This… This won’t be easy, Alfred. I suggest you prepare for the worst.”

“And the worst being..?”

Bruce wheeled himself closer to the butler, leaning forward. “It’s Jason.”

Alfred merely blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid my ears have caught up to my age. I must have misheard you, because for a moment, I thought you said that Red Hood is Jason.”

“You didn’t mishear me, Alfred. It’s him.”

Bruce saw the confusion in Alfred’s eyes, the frantic search for reason. “Our Jason? Jason Todd?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

And then, Bruce felt it. The pain he had been suffering with for weeks spreading to the man who raised him. Alfred clutched his chest with one hand, the other clenching tightly over the armrest of his chair, his breathing quickened.

“Impossible,” he whispered, “Jason died. How?”

“There was an event regarding The League and Superboy punching reality. I won’t get into details, but I suspect that was what caused the initial resurrection. The restoration, however. We know of someone who has been continuously restored time and time again.”

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” Alfred concluded, “But why? Why on Earth would he restore Jason?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce frowned, “But it is an almost perfect revenge plan. I would like to entertain the idea that he has brainwashed Jason into thinking we are the enemy, but I can’t put it past him to develop a hatred for me. I… betrayed him.”

“Master Bruce, this is not your fault,” Alfred rose to his feet, “If it is indeed Jason, we can still help. I have faith in the boy.”

“Me too, Alfred. Me too.”

Bruce didn’t miss the sob that echoed faintly through the cave when Alfred ascended back up.

***

As if in slow motion, he saw every change of emotion on Dick’s face. The way he blinked once in confusion, the surprise approaching as he widened his eyes, and then his eyebrows stitching together in a deep frown, his lips downturning and nose flaring in anger.

Bruce saw the punch coming, but he did not do anything to counter it. Gladly, he took the right hook Dick gave him, appreciating the sting that radiated from his cheekbone to his jaw.

“How long have you known?” his son shook in anger.

“Dick-”

“HOW LONG, BRUCE?!” Dick roared, fists clenched, voice echoing in the cave.

“Since the night he blew up the warehouse,” Bruce replied.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dick ran his fingers through his hair, “Jesus, Bruce. That was over a month ago.”

“I know.”

“We-” he choked on his words, “We deserved to know.”

“I know.”

“So why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!” he slammed his fists on the desk. Bruce caught a few drops of tears that fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce apologised, and meant it. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

“You’re sorry?” Dick looked at him with eyes far too cold than he knew, “He was my brother, Bruce. He told me things he never told anyone else. We shared secrets and jokes. We went to the same diner once a week to catch up. He asked for my help and I asked for his. And then he died. Just like that, because you couldn’t keep him on a leash. And now he’s back, and you knew it was him, and you’re just sorry?”

Dick’s eyes were wet and red, and filled with contempt. Bruce couldn’t blame him. He hated himself, too.

“Does she know?” he whispered, “Does she know that the man who attacked her is your son, and is my brother?”

Like always, he pushed the pain away efficiently, logically, objectively.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I told her this afternoon.”

“And she’s not angry?”

“If she was, she did not show it,” Bruce described, “In fact, she looked… Worried.”

“Of fucking course she would be worried,” he snarled, “She’s worried that she’s going to be irrelevant to you now the dead Robin is back.”

“She’s not,” Bruce growled at that, “She’s not his replacement. She never was.”

“Does she know that, Bruce?” Dick snickered, “Did you finally get over yourself and tell her that? Because the last fucking time I spoke to her, you called her Jason.”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He was good at smiling at the cameras and making speeches and charming an audience, but he was never good with words, real words that described his true feelings to the ones he cared for the most.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said, now numb to everything throughout years and years of practice. “I promise, I will bring him back. Will you help me?”

“What can I do that you can’t?” Dick scoffed.

“You knew him, Dick,” Bruce said, “You knew him in ways I never did. I can predict his movements, but to accurately guess what his motivations are- you knew him better than I did.”

“Fine,” Dick conceded, “But I’m not forgiving you for this, Bruce. I swear, you’re going to pay for all the secrets you’ve kept from us, be it by my hand or someone else’s.”

***

“Did you know that your daughter went out last night to see a boy while we were patrolling?” Dick brought up.

He was looking at Bruce’s back, as he always was.

Bruce was on the computers, going through hours upon hours of security footage and traffic cams for Red Hood- for Jason.

It was difficult for him to put the two together. Jason had always been his little brother. Young, naive, inexperienced. And now that same person was the leader of the underground.

It was definitely difficult.

“Alfred mentioned she went out, but I didn’t know it was to meet a boy,” Bruce replied without glancing his way.

“Well, she lied to me about it at first,” Dick sank in a chair, looking at his nails. “Got pretty defensive when I brought it up. Even tried to deflect by using Jason against me.”

Dick knew you meant to hurt him with your words, and it worked.

He was definitely surprised that you would stoop that low because he always saw you as a sweet, kind girl.

People change. That’s what happens when you stick with Batman.

But Dick didn’t expect you to change so fast.

“She… used Jason against you?”

Bruce finally turned towards him, the ever constant frown a little bit deeper that moment.

“Yeah,” Dick straightened, “It was the first time she’s ever spoken to me that way.”

“What did she say exactly?”

“That I was distracting myself by using humor as a coping mechanism, and that I should come to terms with the fact that it was my brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted her,” he repeated bitterly.

“What did you say to her that she responded that way?” Bruce asked.

“I was just making fun of her boyfriend,” Dick shrugged, “Why? Do you think she’s hiding something?”

At first, Dick thought that you were genuinely angry at the both of them because you were right- Jason did kidnap you. Jason did do those things to you. And Jason was supposed to be under both Bruce and Dick’s responsibility.

Dick didn’t blame you for it, because he would have probably been angry if the situation was reversed.

It was one of the mistakes he always made as Robin when Bruce was teaching him how to accurately deduce by reading people. Never assume that someone’s motivations would be the same as your own.

“She hid that she has… someone from me. There must be a reason why.”

“Or she knows how you are and would rather not have your nose in her business, Bruce. She did find out about that tracker you put in her necklace. How did she even react to it?”

Bruce had done the same with both Dick and Jason while they were Robin, though it didn’t come disguised as a pretty, shiny piece of metal.

On the contrary, during Dick’s Robin days, Bruce had hid it behind his third molar while he was unconscious. He only found out after a year, when he was held hostage by a mercenary who wanted to use him to lure Batman. Said mercenary had detected the tracking device and pulled it out along with the tooth.

It made him increasingly more hostile towards Batman and his never ending need for control, but at least it saved him a trip to the dentist.

From what Dick knew, Jason died with his tracker on him.

Bruce had said that it was all done in the name of safety.

But would you tell Jason the same thing now?

“I apologised and never replaced the one Red Hood damaged. I thought that would have been sufficient for her to trust me again.”

Dick let out a bark of laughter at that, but it was void of any humor. “Only you would think that not replacing her damn tracker would make her trust you. No wonder she hasn’t told you anything.”

It was probably best not to mention that you were now also sexually active.

“Do you think she’s hiding something important?” Bruce asked.

“Are you actually asking for my opinion?” Dick smirked, “No, but it’s too soon to tell, anyway. Relax, Bruce. It’s like you forgot what it was like to be young and in love.”

That was obviously a joke. Bruce grew out of his childhood the moment he saw his parents getting killed in that alley.

As for being in love, did Bruce ever allow himself that?

***

“What did you say she called herself?” Nightwing asked softly.

The poor girl was scared out of her mind to the point where Dick found it difficult to extract important information from her ramblings.

Well, that’s what happens when someone makes you kill a person.

It was difficult, so difficult, to face the fact that it was Jason behind all of that.

“I t-think, V,” the witness- Elena- stuttered. “She with him. But try to stop him.”

Behind him, he felt Batman pause. He was walking around the club and analysing evidence while listening to the conversation.

“She tried to stop him? Him as in Red Hood?” Dick frowned.

“Yes,” Elena looked down and rubbed her arms.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but,” Dick tried, “You told me they were partners.”

“Yes, but she try to stop him,” she repeated, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Dick offered a smile, “Thank you very much. You’ve been a huge help.”

“Am I going to prison?” she looked at him with big, wet eyes.

“We’ll make sure you won’t,” Dick assured, “You’ll get the best defense team in Gotham.”

“You can do that?” she asked, hope in her voice.

“It’s the least we could do,” Dick answered, a sad smile playing on his lips.

He’s our responsibility.

“Thank you,” she gave a watery laugh, “Even prison better than with him, I want to be free.”

Dick heard footsteps approaching. As he turned around, Gordon entered the crime scene, followed by his team.

“Of course you’re here first,” he sighed at Batman.

“Gordon.”

“You might have to speak to the police again, okay?” Dick told Elena who was suddenly nervous again by the presence of so many people. “I’ll make sure they know you’re innocent. Gordon is the only one you can trust, okay?”

She nodded, her gaze turning downwards.

“Gordon,” he approached the aging man. He was used to talking with Gordon in Batman’s stead, even when he was Robin, and remembered feeling proud of himself whenever he finished speaking to Gordon regarding cases without Batman having to add anything.

“Nightwing,” he blinked, “It’s been a while.”

“Desperate times calls for desperate backups,” he grinned, “Anyway, the girl. She’s a victim of Victor Ibenescu’s human trafficking trade. Romanian, only thirteen when she was kidnapped. She was forced to shoot Victor by Red Hood.”

“This Red Hood likes his poetic justice,” Gordon snickered.

“It’s still first degree murder, or at least, that’s how the law would make it seem,” Dick reminded him, “But I assure you she’s innocent. Red Hood threatened to kill and rape her if she didn’t shoot.”

That was a lie, on both his part and Elena’s. Judging by the way she averted her eyes and touched her own arm, Dick could tell that she wasn’t telling the whole truth about being threatened by Red Hood- but he also knew that he couldn’t expose her and get into more trouble.

He wanted to let out a tired sigh, but that would give him away in front of Gordon and the other officers. He still needed to maintain his air of hopefulness, and he couldn’t seem like he was troubled by his thoughts.

Time to meet Bruce back at the cave and watch the surveillance footage.

***

“He’s got a partner now,” Dick voiced out his findings, “Since when did Red Hood partner up?”

Bruce’s frown was deep as he stared at the screen.

Dick pursed his lips. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Whether this is Red Hood or Jason?” Bruce hummed, “This definitely does not seem like anything Red Hood would do. He’s always tried to separate himself from others because it furthers his authoritarian agenda. He does not get friendly with people because people are disposable to him.”

“So you think this is Jason, then?” Dick concluded, “Well, Jason never had much of a problem working with others in the past, and he made some friends. He wasn’t the type to be hostile to people.”

“He did have trust issues,” Bruce pointed out, “At the very beginning.”

“Yes, and he kept a lot of things to himself,” Dick agreed, “But he did have friends.”

“Special friends,” Bruce added, “Friends who gained his respect and trust. So the question is- who is this girl and how did she manage to gain his trust?”

“Hey, play it back again,” Dick said, “Those moves.”

Bruce played the security tape, showing the mysterious girl and Red Hood taking down Victor’s men.

“Arnis,” Bruce pointed out.

“It’s a little different.”

“She has incorporated silat in as well. Low stance,” Bruce observed. “She’s skilled, but not polished. It could be anyone.”

There was something familiar about the girl that Dick couldn’t pinpoint. Dick usually had strong intuition- a gut feeling that enabled him to know which facts to focus on during an investigation, or a strong ability to see through people.

But the problem was that it wasn’t solid proof or evidence, something Batman heavily focused on. It was a gut feeling that told him he knew who the girl was.

“Do you think it’s-” he broke off without completing his sentence. There was nothing to back his claims.

“She has no reason or motive to work with Jason,” Bruce shot the idea down, “He’s hurt her. And… She wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“She’s been keeping secrets, Bruce,” Dick reminded, hating the fact that this time it was him who was suspicious.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Because he never would have thought that Jason was capable of torture and murder, either.

Why didn’t he come to me?

“As you clearly pointed out prior to this,” Bruce grit, “She has her reasons as to why she’s keeping secrets. And it is most probably because of me. All of you kept secrets. But this time, I’d like to let her keep hers.”

It was sweet, seeing Bruce that way.

“Is it guilt?” Dick asked.

“It’s repentance.”

Dick hated playing the bad guy.

Because he wasn’t supposed to be. He was the one people looked up to for inspiration, he was the light to Batman’s darkness, he was the smiles and charms and laughter.

He wasn’t the one who would accuse his little sister of fraternizing with the- was Jason the enemy?

Shit. Jason had messed with his senses. Dick’s head was chaotic, his emotions causing him to tense up.

Was he wrong? Was he just like Bruce? Was he jumping to conclusions just because Alfred told him you were out? Should he investigate this Carter you said you were with?

No. I’m not Bruce.

And now, you were looking at him with angry eyes, betrayed and appalled by his accusation.

*** Large.

That was the first thing that came to Dick’s mind when he saw his little brother.

The last time Dick saw him, he was much shorter, and definitely not as bulky.

And the last time Dick saw Jason, he was giving him a hug goodbye, complaining that Dick had messed up his hair.

And now, Jason was aiming a gun at him.

The gunshot didn’t hurt nearly as much as the thought that Jason had indeed shot him. Did Jason hate him that much?

You’re almost as guilty as he is, Jason’s voice echoed in his head.

“Bruce,” he gasped in the comms, “I’m down. They got away.”

“I heard a gunshot,” the deep voice in his ear spoke.

“Yeah, Jason shot my leg,” Dick winced, “Didn’t hit bone but I think it nicked my artery.”

“There are children here,” Batman said, “I was right. He’s sabotaging the Powers’. Gordon should be here soon. You control your bleeding.”

Dick nodded to himself and took a deep breath before plunging his finger into the gunshot wound to keep himself from bleeding out.

***

“...suspects that the crime lord only known as Red Hood and an unidentified female were behind the home invasion. Maria and Joseph Powers were left in a gruesome state according to reports, but their only child Carrie Powers was unharmed. The authorities are not sure what Red Hood’s motive was, but more will be elaborated during Commissioner Gordon’s public address later this afternoon...”

Dick heard you close the door.

“You didn’t come home last night,” he lowered the volume of the television.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered.

Dick looked over at you. You seemed tired, eyes swollen and red from crying, wearing an oversized t-shirt that he didn’t recognize.

“I was at-”

“Carter’s?” he finished your sentence for you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting down next to him on the sofa.

Dick frowned to himself. Your arms were crossed, you were avoiding eye contact, your body was angled away from him.

“You heard about the Powers’?” he turned his gaze towards the television.

“I saw the news on the way here,” you monotoned.

You smelled like a different shampoo. It was familiar, but Dick couldn’t remember where he had smelled it before.

“So you know that-”

“Yes, Jason did it,” you said rigidly.

“Along with-”

“His partner.”

Ah, now he remembered the smell. Jason’s favorite shampoo. He used to make fun of him for choosing one that was called what it was called. He didn’t really care about it, Dick kept his hair soft and fluffy with multiple women’s hair products. He just liked to rile Jason up because he was so defensive about it.

And with that, Dick let out a long, disappointed sigh.

“Bruce is in the cave. I suggest that you think long and hard about what to tell him,” Dick offered you a soft smile, “But no matter what you choose to say, you’ll always be my sister, and I’ll always love you no matter what, okay?”

You gave him a look of shock, and then realised that he had figured it out.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you lips trembled, your eyes started brimming with tears.

“No, kid. I’m sorry,” he replied, “Go.”

You nodded and left.

Despite being right all along, he didn’t feel any sense of achievement. Dick couldn’t help but partly blame himself. For being so absent, for being neglectful, for being a bad brother.

Dick wasn’t perfect, but like hell would he stop trying to be.

***

For years Bruce had tried to stop feeling guilty for being relieved whenever someone else takes care of a problem he couldn’t solve- especially when it involved murder.

Bruce had tried to take down the Powers for almost a decade, and everytime he got close, there was always another obstacle in the way. It was difficult to expose the rich and powerful without resorting to violence, without resorting to breaking his principles.

So Bruce was ready to stop himself from internally celebrating their deaths. This time, however, he wasn’t as pleased. Because this time, it was Jason who brutally murdered two people. Jason, who was supposed to be under his care and responsibility.

“Bruce?” he heard your timid, small voice from behind him. “I have to tell you something.”

And there it was.

Bruce turned around and looked straight at you, piercing your eyes with his own as he waited on your confession.

A minute passed.

“I’m V,” you struggled to speak, “I’ve been meeting up with Jason for a few months now. I didn’t know he was Red Hood until you told me. But when you did tell me, I chose to confront him and team up with him anyway.”

Bruce didn’t say anything.

“He- he’s not a bad person, Bruce,” you justified, “He’s just really hurt. He needs help.”

You were telling Bruce things he already knew.

“I- I fell in love with him,” you continued, “And I let my feelings cloud my judgement and betrayed your trust. At first I thought that he was onto something, that his… methods were better than yours. And I was angry that you kept secrets from me. But after last night- after what I saw- I couldn’t- I couldn’t stay.”

Bruce clenched his jaw.

He suspected it. Dick suspected it. But for your sake, the both of them chose to put their trust in you. He had tried so hard to change from his old ways. He learned his lesson with both Dick and Jason.

He didn’t want you to go through the same thing they did.

So, he chose to blindly trust you anyway, hoping that he wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” you were sobbing now, “I’m so sorry. Please, say something.”

After another minute of watching you break down in front of him, Bruce finally spoke up.

“Hang up your colors. You’re no longer my Robin.”

#Red Who #Red Hood x Reader #jason todd x reader

310 notes · View notes