#if this makes no sense to you: that's fine

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Lee Heeseung

doll!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), pure filth, dom!hee, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m&f. rec), clit biting, throat fucking, cock worshipping, doggy, pussy stepping, spanking, squirting, slight degradation and choking, pet names (baby), supernatural elements, religious themes (heaven/hell), anything else lmk!

wc: 16.8k

synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and opens your eyes to a world you never knew was possible.

jongseong | masterlist |

a/n: hi! it's officially the end of tdh! i need to put a massive thank you out to @haechonly as this entire series would never have been possible without their request! you are a star in my eyes and i can't ever thank you enough for trusting me to write this! i also want to thank everyone who took the time to read each chapter and leave comments or asks, i love you indefinitely <3 i hope the ending leaves you all satisfied and all your questions answered! as always, likes, reblogs, feeback, and everything in between is welcomed :)

Folding the laundry, you glance over at the calendar on the day of your leave circled in red. There are only 2 weeks left until you finish up and you’re more than sad about it. Your heart aches every time you sleep because you know that you’re one day closer to returning to normality when you wake up.

The thought alone is overwhelming - how can you possibly contemplate returning to a life you loathe when you've uncovered a paradise here? In the company of Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and Jongseong, each fulfilling a unique role in your existence, you've found a sense of completeness that you fear will escape you once you leave. 

You're so fond of the dolls that you're willing to overlook the horrifying underworld that lurks in the library's secret room. You’ve learned that if you pay it no mind, it can’t touch you. Jongseong has reassured you time and time again that you need not worry about it, and you trust him, so you faithfully follow his guidance.

Jongseong has hardly explained anything, only that yes it was hell that lives in the flames but it’s more like a telephone than a portal - a cryptic analogy that only serves to fuel your curiosity - but he just keeps repeating himself time and time again: “Talk to Heeseung.”

Which would be fine if the doll ever gave you the time of day. He knows you know about them now so there’s no reason for him not to speak with you, yet he hardly utters a word, not even a simple thank you when you serve him dinner or excuse me when he bumps into you. He’s not avoiding you but ignoring you and for some reason that makes it worse. All you get from Heeseung is knowing stares and a sly smile plastered on his face.

You know he’s dangerous, Jongseong and Sunghoon are good at making you very aware of that, even his aura is enough to know that you shouldn’t mess with him, but their warnings about his inherent danger reverberate in your head, their evident readiness to give you to his care and seek answers calls into question his malevolence.

Jongseong said he doesn’t want to see your face when you find out, making you even more curious and it cannot be curbed until you get answers.

Grabbing the washing basket, you put the neatly folded clothes inside and make your way to drop them off outside each of the respective dolls’ rooms. They are off doing their own thing, even Jaeyun, who is typically tethered to your side, is engrossed in playing football with Jongseong, seemingly oblivious to your brief departure.

There was something Jongseong said to you over the past week that you can’t shake out of your head. He observed how close you and Jaeyun are, and how attached the younger doll has become to you. It’s not so much the observation as much as how he eyes the both of you now; there’s a knowingness in his pupils, like he’s keeping another secret from you, but you can’t figure out what. 

It’s obvious you and Jaeyun get along well, each of you loving to spend time with one another and waste the day away; as long as you’re together, that’s all that matters. You confided in Jongseong, telling him that whatever Jaeyun is feeling, whether happy or sorrowful, you feel it too. It's a connection so profound that only those who have experienced it firsthand can comprehend its depth.

Regret gnaws at you for telling Jongseong, for since then, his scrutiny has only intensified, leaving you to wonder what his meaningful gaze truly means.

You head towards Heeseung's room, initially planning to leave his clothes outside as per the rulebook. However, your rebellious streak, which has persisted almost since you got here, urges you otherwise. The last time you saw Heeseung was in the music room, practising the piano, so he isn’t around, leaving you the perfect opportunity to snoop.

If he isn’t giving you answers, maybe his room will.

Placing the basket on your hip, you open his door tentatively, scared to see what is on the other side. You’ve been in his room before but now that you’re delving into its nooks and crannies, you can’t help but feel some apprehension. This is new territory and with warnings about his character, you know if you’re caught, you are fucked.

His room is dull, his curtains remaining shut despite the summer weather outside. Come to think of it, you haven’t ever seen him sit out the front with the others, only ever being in their presence when he has to be. Sunghoon and Heeseung have a camaraderie, their personalities are woven from the same cloth, so you know they are close in some way. You’ve seen them sharing secrets and memories of their past but it’s always in hushed whispers, not letting anyone in on their fun.

Yet, when it comes to Jongseong, a noticeable distance lingers between them. Though their interactions remain civil, their friendship feels distant. Despite this, Jongseong's occasional defence of Heeseung hints at an underlying care between them, though you can't help but feel that there's more to their dynamic than meets the eye. You have enough mysteries in this house other than feuding brothers, so you’ve not given it much thought.

You set the basket down on the ottoman nestled at the foot of his bed, casting a quick glance around the room to assess your surroundings before delving into your impromptu snoop sesh. 

Your gaze drifts to his dressing table, its surface gathering dust and bereft of any adornments. It's a stark contrast to the other dolls' rooms, each of them cluttered with their interests and personalities. With a curious tilt of your head, you step closer, it's as if Heeseung deliberately keeps his space devoid of any semblance of identity or sentimentality. The only thing adorning the furniture is a scatter of dead flies that you turn your nose up to.

Jongseong had said Heeseung had been here for 8 years, surely that would warrant some decoration; even one book would be enough.

As your exploration continues, you come across a worn and torn box tucked away in the corner of the room. Kneeling down, you run your fingers over it, noticing how it’s the only thing devoid of dust in the room. Curiosity piqued, you carefully lift the lid, revealing a trove of forgotten treasures within.

Among the assortment of photographs, you come across snapshots capturing moments between Soonyeol and Heeseung. There is one photo of Soonyeol and Heeseung which she clearly forced him to be in, her cheek pressed hard against his and a smile on her face. Although it is a picture, you can feel her love for him emanating. 

Setting aside the photograph with care, your attention is drawn to another picture, this time commemorating Soonyeol's birthday. The scene is more recent, with Jaeyun's radiant smile serving as a focal point. His embrace of the birthday girl evokes a pang of envy within you, swiftly tempered by the reminder that he belongs to Soonyeol.

"Hmm, she’s 28," you remark, noting the candles donning the birthday cake in the photograph. You could have sworn she was the same age as you; maybe it’s her skincare cupboard you should be raiding through.

Nestled among the keepsakes is a handwritten note, its edges yellowed with age. As you unfold it, the scrawl of Soonyeol's handwriting greets your eyes. The heartfelt words penned on the paper speak of cherished moments and promises of eternal love for Heeseung, her words of gratitude for saving her.

You can't help but wonder what drove Heeseung to save Soonyeol. If Heeseung is indeed this elusive big bad wolf, it begs the question: why would he ever come to someone's rescue?

"What are you doing?" A low voice reverberates through the cold walls, jolting you from your exploration. Startled, you scramble to restore everything to its place, your heart pounding with fear as you hastily rise to your feet, meeting Heeseung's gaze with wide-eyed apprehension.

Heeseung stands before you, arms crossed and a frown etched across his features. His expression speaks volumes, conveying a mix of irritation and suspicion at your intrusion into his private space. You can't fault him for his reaction; after all, he just caught you looking through his personal belongings that clearly no one but him is meant to see.

Hurriedly, you retreat to the safety of the laundry basket, clutching it as if it were a shield against his disapproval, "Sorry, Heeseung," you stammer, offering a feeble explanation for your presence, "I-I was just putting your laundry away."

Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he assesses your explanation. The silence between you stretches taut, punctuated only by the distant hum of the house.

After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung finally speaks, his voice cool and measured, "You know the rules, Y/N, leave it outside," he admonishes, his tone firm.

"Sorry, Heeseung," you murmur, bowing your head as his reprimand sinks in. Your body feels clammy with sweat, a lump forming in your throat, and your heart pounding erratically. It's unnerving to be alone with him for the first time, leaving you feeling timid and inferior in his presence.

Heeseung strides further into the room, his figure imposing as he sets about restoring the box you disrupted, methodically arranging his treasures back into order. As you watch his back, uncertainty gnaws at you, weighing your options for the next move. You're aware that he expects you to leave, and perhaps you should for your own sake. Yet, this unexpected encounter presents an opportunity you've been yearning for - a chance to pose the questions that Jongseong has been evading.

"You're not like the other 3, are you?" you venture timidly, hoping to broach the subject without eliciting a harsh response from him.

Heeseung straightens up, exhaling sharply as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows arching in surprise at your question. "What? Because I haven't fucked you, is that what you mean?" His tone drips with disdain at your observation, his words sharp and cutting.

"No, it's not that," you hurriedly clarify, sensing his hostility, "It's just...your aura, it's different," you explain despite struggling to put your thoughts into words.

Heeseung's expression shifts, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at your unexpected comment. "Different? How so?" he asks, curiosity replacing the initial edge of hostility.

You take a cautious step forward, emboldened by his slightly less defensive demeanour, "It's hard to explain," you admit, searching for the right words to articulate the subtle but distinct quality that sets him apart. "It's like... there's a depth to you, something...darker," you struggle to find the right description, hoping he'll understand that you aren’t trying to call him evil, even if that is what you are eluding to.

Tilting his head, Heeseung starts to smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He licks the side of his mouth casually before speaking, his tone teasing, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

You don’t, that’s quite obviously the issue you’re having. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes because fuck whatever would come from that. So instead, you settle for shaking your head, hoping he will elaborate of his own accord.

The curiosity is evident on his face as he steps forward slightly, “You mean to tell me you’ve been here almost 2 months, fucked each of my brothers more times than I can count, and you still don’t know who we are?”

Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Heeseung's blunt question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. It’s not through lack of trying, you have turned over every book, looked on every shelf, and bobby pinned your way into locks, yet you’re still in the dark.

Your silence only seems to fuel Heeseung's wicked merriment, his smirk widening into a sharp grin as he peers straight through you. "I really thought Jongseong would have caved by now. God knows how he really does love to paint himself as still a saint."

Drawing in a deep breath, Heeseung prepares to reveal the truth you've been longing to uncover. Your body stills as you realise this is finally it, everything you’ve been wanting, no, needing to know - he is about to let you in.

"We're from all over heaven and hell," he explains, his voice tinged with amusement that was targeted at your now shocked expression, "angels and demons, Baby, that’s what we are."

As his words sink in, you find yourself ensnared in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. Angels and demons? The implications of such a revelation send a shiver down your spine. 

Of course, they weren't human, you knew that much, but how can they be otherworldly beings straight out of myths, the kind you only hear about in churches and Supernatural episodes? The concept is difficult to fully process, leaving you grappling with a reality that feels more like a dream - or perhaps a nightmare. You would have been much more settled if they were the ghosts of those who lived here previously - this being one of the many guesses you made about their lives.

You've grown to adore the dolls, cherishing their presence above all else. But the newfound knowledge that some of them are demons sends a chill down your spine, casting a shadow of unease over your once-idyllic existence.

Sensing your need for clarity, Heeseung's voice breaks through the tumult of your thoughts. "Who do you want to know about first?" he inquires as his eyebrows raise, "I think it's only right that we start with your little angel, hmmm?"

Jaeyun. 

Nodding, you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say. 

“You’ll be glad to know, your lover boy is an angel,” he starts to explain and you already feel a relief wash over you. If Jaeyun was an evil spirit, that would have destroyed any perception you had of him, leaving you to question the authenticity of the connection you share; the idea that he could have manipulated you would hurt your soul more than you’d like to admit.

You see Heeseung weigh up his next words, “Well…not quite, he should have been but I stopped that from happening,” he confesses, feigning remorse for his doings, “He was actually meant to be a guardian angel. When he died in an accident, his soul was so pure he was handpicked to be someone's personal dove boy.”

“Wait, what do you mean you stopped it?” you ask almost immediately, your curiosity outweighing any other emotion as he speaks.

"He was wandering the veil, the in-between of life and death, waiting to be guided to heaven when I heard him crying out, confused and scared. He died too soon, but that greedy fuck up the stairs clearly couldn’t let him just live out his life the way he wanted to."

There’s anger in his voice as he speaks; it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s talking about God. You’ve always been taught that there is a plan for everyone, that no matter what happens, it’s the right path. Clearly, Heeseung doesn’t share the same outlook.

“So I answered his call and guided him to Soonyeol and the rest of us. Jaeyun only wanted to be loved and cherished his whole life, that was his dream, and I granted it in exchange for his memories,” he sees you poised with another question, but he stops you, raising a hand to silence you, “If you’re going to ask why I did that, it’s because he wouldn’t have coped otherwise, and he would have looked at us in anger rather than love.”

You have so many new questions, but as you go to speak, you can’t. Your mouth is dry, and your throat holds back a sob. You feel awful as you think about Jaeyun being scared after death, calling out for help, and in the end being stripped of his memories. Heeseung is acting as if he did him a favour - and in some way, he has - but he has also torn him away from his path.

As you struggle to find the right words to express your thoughts, Heeseung's gaze softens if only slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "I know it's a lot to take in," he offers gently, his tone devoid of its usual edge, "But trust me when I say that Jaeyun is happier here than he ever was in his old life, and certainly more than he would be as a guardian. Soonyeol needed someone to look after and that’s all he has ever wanted; It’s a win-win.”

“So this was all for Soonyeol? Be honest with me,” you ask, picking up on his last sentence. 

With a definitive nod, Heeseung doesn't deny your observation, "Everything that I have done is for her." 

That piques your interest and the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place, “Does that mean you did the same with the others? You brought them here for Soonyeol’s benefit?”

He lets out a heavy exhale, his demeanour shifting as he crosses his arms. “You make it sound like I've wronged Jaeyun,” he counters, any trace of understanding vanishing as his cold manner returns to the forefront. 

You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but you can’t help but call a spade a spade. Heaven is deemed difficult to enter - what with all the rules and hail mary’s - so for Jaeyun to be seen as holy enough to become someone’s guardian angel was a privilege he should have been able to experience.

Mirroring his posture, you cross your arms, a silent declaration of your determination. It might be foolish to stand toe to toe with him, considering his power to manipulate Jaeyun's memories and drag him to Earth, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness.

Heeseung grins, genuinely amused by your stance. He's impressed by your resolve, having pegged you for someone who would flee at the mere mention of demons. "You've got some backbone," Heeseung remarks, his grin widening as he observes your defiance, "I like that."

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, you can't help but feel a small swell of pride at his unexpected approval.

“So? The others?”

“No, the others actually asked for my help, Sunghoon was practically crying out and begging to be saved from his cell in hell,” Heeseung explains as he reminisces about his first encounter with Sunghoon.

You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around the revelation, “So he is a demon?” you mumble to yourself, looking down at the ground. Honestly, you should have known, he fucks you like he was part of the incubus club. Yet he is also so tender in his actions, he helps you out and makes sure you’re okay, gives you forehead kisses and aftercare - it doesn’t scream evil.

Clicking his fingers, Heeseung points them at you, a mischievous wink fluttering over to you, “Bingo. Sunghoon used to be a soldier, serving under one of the rulers in hell, Dis. The guy was made from remains of Lucifer, the Devil, whatever you want to call him, and because of that, he thought he was some big shot, ordering his soldiers to do horrific things, things even I wouldn’t do.”

You stand wide-eyed, taking in his words. You can't help but feel sorrow for Sunghoon, knowing how tormented he must have been in the depths of hell. It's an odd realisation to feel pity for a demon who you know must be bad enough to be prevented from entering Heaven.

"He couldn’t bear the torture anymore and he rebelled against Dis. Sunghoon has always despised authority; his only desire is to be in control, making him public enemy number one in the underworld. Ever been to jail in hell?" it's a rhetorical question because of course you haven’t, but you shake your head answering anyway. “Yeah, it’s not pretty. Sunghoon managed to contact me, pleading to do anything to escape. Hence, here he is.”

“What did he have to sacrifice? Or do you only make deals with angels?” you blurt out unintentionally, your distaste for Heeseung's methods bubbling to the surface.

“I’d watch that fucking tongue of yours before I tear it out and feed it to the dogs.”

Heeseung's threat hangs heavy in the air, his words laced with a chilling intensity that raises goosebumps over your body. You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to steer the conversation back on track, knowing there is so much more to uncover, "I’m sorry, Heeseung," you say, your voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty lingering within you, "I just want to understand.”

Heeseung appears satisfied with your apology, though his next words still carry a warning tone, “I heard a rumour you were a good girl. If you want to keep that reputation, I suggest you zip it.” Your cheeks flushed crimson, memories of your nights with Jongseong flooding your mind. You recalled the countless times he had called you his good girl, his perfect angel.

He continues, delving into the details of his arrangement with Sunghoon. "Sunghoon gave me his powers and his word," he explained, his tone taking on a grave seriousness, "I made it clear to him that he could have paradise with a girl who wanted some direction in her life, but if he ever laid an unwanted finger on her, I would hand his head to Dis myself."

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of the intricate power dynamics at play within the household, each member bound by their own set of rules and obligations.

“The only person he has to answer to is Soonyeol, an upgrade from being whipped and battered with iron chains, wouldn’t you say?” Heeseung steps closer, his eyes flashing with a hint of crimson, or maybe it's just your imagination. All this information must be taking its toll on you, the headache forming in your frontal lobe might be tricking your eyes.

Heeseung's piercing gaze bores into yours and you can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised, as if he were sizing you up as his next potential victim. Despite the growing discomfort prickling at the back of your mind, you steeled yourself, maintaining a carefully constructed facade of composure to shield against falling for his traps.

“And Jongseong? He’s a demon too?” you inquire quietly.

“Baby, he’s the furthest thing from it. In fact, you must have some powers of your own to get him to fuck you,” Heeseung responds with a scoff, his laughter ringing with a hint of mockery. He shakes his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion of you and Jongseong together.

Heeseung's amusement fades into a knowing smile as he watches your face turn to confusion, "Jongseong is no demon, darling. He's a full-fledged guardian angel, just like Jaeyun was supposed to be," he explains, rendering you shocked.

Everything about Jongseong falls into place; how he's been looking after you from the very beginning, with his caring demeanour, always urging you to do what’s best, and his unwavering efforts to provide comfort and ease. It's just who he is.

As you reflect on Jongseong's constant care and support, a sense of gratitude washes over you. Jongseong has remained a steadfast presence, guiding you through the labyrinth of this otherworldly realm; he didn’t have to show you the altar or delve into how they were summoned, but he did to ease your mind, all the while shielding you from its evil secrets. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s that he was protecting you from the hell of it all.

But if he is a guardian angel, he is too good to be here with a demon and a lost soul.

“Then why is he here? Shouldn’t he be the guardian of his human or something-” Just as the sentence passes your lips, your mouth falls open, eyes popping out of your head as you answer your own question, “He is Soonyeol’s guardian angel, isn’t he?”

Heeseung smiles proudly and claps his hands once. "You are one smart cookie," he observes, his tone without sarcasm for once. 

“Shouldn’t guardian angels be silent? Like a gut feeling?” 

Heeseung answers you with a casual shrug, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, hence the doll costume. Actually…it's my fault he's stuck like that," he admits, his face scrunched up as he contemplates whether you will find his actions disconcerting or admirable. "Soonyeol wasn't listening to his pleas, she ignored her instinct, so he made himself visible - which by the way is a number one no-no up there,” he points out before continuing, “he wanted to warn her of the consequences of her actions. As a result, he lost his wings, God cut the tie between them and demoted him to a simple heaven walker. It was all quite a scandal.”

You don’t know what to say, how can you say anything when all you want to do is curse out everyone who had a part to play in Soonyeol and Jongseong’s parting?

“Then he tried to see her again, defying God and his stupid ‘disapproving actions have consequences’ bullshit. Jongseong was deemed to be sinful and therefore, poof,” Heeseung explains further, twinkling his fingers as if it were a cloud of smoke, “He was banished to heaven’s wasteland forever.”

Amusement that seems to dance in Heeseung's eyes feels wrong as if there's a sick happiness he derives from Jongseong's misery. You know angels and demons have never seen eye to eye but they are close enough to call one another ‘brother’, surely that has to stand for some sympathy?

Sensing your disapproval, Heeseung wipes the smile from his face, his demeanour turning cold. "Judge me all you want, Baby, but I helped him get her back," he asserts, his voice dripping with venom, "Without me, he wouldn't be near her." There's a bitter edge to his tone, a hint of resentment seeping through his words.

"God wanted Jongseong to never see her again, but I knew that would hurt her," he continues, his eyes flashing with intensity, "A guardian angel and their human have a bond that is stronger than any love you can even imagine, especially when they come into contact. He couldn’t live without her, his desperate longing ached so loud that’s all I could fucking hear for weeks. So I got him out of that heaven hole and brought him closer to her than he ever was."

The raw emotion in Heeseung's words sends a chill down your spine, his bitterness and resentment palpable in the air. You feel for Jongseong, caught in the crossfire of divine politics and human emotions. He only wanted to protect her and he got scolded for it, reprimanded for fulfilling his duty to her, that part is tripping you up the most. Well, that and one other thing.

"This is so confusing," you exclaim, rubbing your temples in frustration. "So it's your fault he's the doll because? Surely the real reason would be whatever he was trying to protect her from, the thing that caused him to show himself."

With a smirk, Heeseung nods, pointing to himself. "Yeah, that was me," he admits unabashedly, "She was summoning me." 

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Heeseung's admission. "She was summoning you?" you repeat, incredulous.

Heeseung nods, his smirk widening into a joyful grin. "Yep," he confirms, pride creeping into his tone. "She called, and I answered.”

The implications of Heeseung's revelation leave you speechless. Soonyeol's actions inadvertently set off a chain of events that ultimately led to Jongseong's downfall. It's a sobering reminder of the unpredictable nature of their world and the consequences of meddling with forces beyond control.

"Why you?" you finally manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung steps forward, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. His presence looms over you, casting a shadow of unease, "I suppose I should formally introduce myself," he says, bowing his head with a wicked grin, "I'm Heeseung, formally known as Beelzebub. 

I'm a Prince of Hell."

The world spins groggily around you, your limbs going numb as the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You find yourself at a loss, grappling with the realisation that you've been living with none other than the Lord of the Flies himself.

Beelzebub, one of the seven Princes of Hell, holds a position of immense power and authority in the underworld. As the third in command, he wields influence and dominion over legions of demons, surpassing even the mightiest of Archangels in strength and cunning.

Despite your limited knowledge of demonology, you understand enough to know that Beelzebub is not to be trifled with. His name alone strikes fear into the hearts of humans and angels alike, a testament to his formidable reputation and malevolent nature.

As Heeseung's hand brushes against your cheek, a reflexive flinch courses through you. "Don't be scared of me now, Baby," he says, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. There's a hint of amusement in his tone as he relishes the unease he elicits from you, "I'm actually enjoying your questions. Go on, hit me with another one." 

He is far too casual about this, then again, he has known of his identity forever so he has no reason to be startled.

You hesitate, unsure of what question to pose next. The revelation of Heeseung's true identity has left your mind reeling, your heart pounding in your chest, and palms sweaty. There’s no doubt he senses how your nerves are rattled, that smug look on his face says it all. 

But you need answers so you compose yourself and pull up your big girl pants.

Gathering your thoughts, you finally muster the courage to speak, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Why did Soonyeol summon you?”

His facial expression shifts from smug to something softer, a hint of fondness flickering in his eyes as he reminisces about Soonyeol and their relationship. "She called me," he begins, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia, "A young girl who couldn’t find her place in the world. All she wanted was to be lifted from her toxic family and find the serenity she needed."

"And you granted her wish?" you prompt, eager to understand the dynamics of their relationship and the extent of Heeseung's influence over Soonyeol's life.

Heeseung nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I did, I gave her all of this," he confirms, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and affection as he gestures around him, speaking of the house and the dolls which live in it, "I offered her a way out, a chance to escape her past and forge a new destiny. And in return, she granted me her loyalty, devotion, and eventually, her soul."

The discovery of Soonyeol’s past leaves you reeling, your perception of her shifting in an instant. Here you were, thinking she was all-powerful and commanding, when in reality, she was just a scared girl in her twenties. The thought of what she must have endured, what drove her to call upon a demon for help, fills you with a profound sense of empathy and compassion.

If Heeseung granted Soonyeol her deepest desires, if he offered her a way out of her suffering, then what does that say about his own motivations? After all, as a Prince of Hell, he could have chosen to do whatever he pleased. Yet, he chose to stay loyal to Soonyeol.

Then, just like that, it hits you: he must love her in some capacity. It's the only explanation for his unwavering loyalty, for his willingness to sacrifice some of his own freedom for her sake.

You breathe out softly, nodding as you agree with your mind, “You love her, don’t you? That’s why you stick around and give her anything she wants, even if that means letting herself indulge in more than just you.”

He scoffs and laughs loudly, making you jump back slightly, “Y/N, this isn’t a soppy fairytale or one of your romance novels. I’m a Prince of Hell, not Prince Charming. I’m incapable of love,” his face is bright, tittering at even the implication, “I am fond of her though, I will admit. She has a charm about her that intrigues me.”

“Then why do you stay, fondness isn’t enough to stay in this house,” you question, a little more confident now that his protective guard is down. 

He pauses, mulling over your question before responding, “I promised I would give her what she needs, and she needs me,” he explains, his voice taking on a lower, more intimate tone. As he moves closer to you, his signature smirk returns, “And I don’t break my promises, Y/N.”

You tremble a little, the lowering octave in his voice causes your knees to quake and heart to still. As Heeseung's body towers closer, you find yourself captivated by the intensity in his gaze, the allure of his enigmatic persona drawing you in like a moth to a flame. 

His menacing smirk widens as he watches your reaction, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something you can't quite decipher. Just being this close to him is making your body react in a way it shouldn’t, your thighs rubbing together as he looks into your eyes, seeking to find out what’s going on in your brain.

And unfortunately for you, he’s good at picking up your signals.

"What do you need, Y/N? Let me help you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that resonates deep within you. You take a step back, intending to create some distance between you, but your legs betray you, colliding with the edge of the bed and sending you stumbling backwards.

Just as you brace for impact, Heeseung is there, his strong arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. His touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth through your veins as he steadies you effortlessly. "See? You can trust me," he reassures, his voice low and hypnotic as he holds you close.

His words slice through the air like a siren's call, drawing you nearer despite the warning bells in your mind. As Heeseung's eyes lock with yours, vulnerability washes over you, a desire to confide in him, to bare the depths of your desires.

“I know what you want anyway. Your soul has been calling out for it. I can hear you crying out, just like I did the others,” his grip on your waist tightens.

You stay still, pondering his words. How can he hear your soul’s desires when you’ve been grappling and searching to figure out what you want your entire life? You moved to the big city for university because you thought it was a sure cut way to achieve fulfilment, only to find unhappiness. You entered relationships yearning for love, only to hide away from the commitment when it all got too real.

In all your existence, you have never known what you want.

But he does, you can see it in his eyes, “What do I want, Heeseung?” you ask both curiously and longingly, hoping he can shed some light upon you.

“You want this life, with us,” Heeseung says matter of factly, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as the scared expression turns into one of perplexion, “Don’t you see it? How you took Soonyeol’s place so easily, falling into her role like you were born to be ours, like we were made for you.”

His words linger, thick with insinuation. You study his eyes for signs of deception, but all you see is sincerity, a profound conviction that sends shivers down your spine because deep down within you, you know it’s true too.

Ever since you set foot in this house, you've felt it - a subtle shift in the air, a stirring of something dormant within you. In the city, you lived in a tiny flat, unemployed and miserable, your only solace found in the familiar glow of your television screen as you binge-watched your favourite shows for the umpteenth time.

But here, in the mansion, it's different. Cleaning its halls and tending to the dolls and their needs, it's given you a purpose you thought you had lost along the way. Each day brings with it a renewed sense of fulfilment, a feeling of being truly alive in a way you haven't felt in years.

You want this life, you’ve fallen in love with its routine and stability, how each day you wake up and roam the halls, admiring the artwork and serenity in the echoes of your footsteps. The silence of it all makes your heart weep with joy, the boys you have come to cherish - even now, despite knowing about their supernatural entities and the mass power they hold - you love them dearly.

Heeseung, as if reading your mind, smirks and licks his lips, “You feel alive, don’t you?” He knows you do, he can see it in your eyes and the feel of your blood rushing along your veins. Mia was right when she said you were glowing all but two weeks ago. You’re radiant, like you have your own personal sun perched upon your shoulder, giving you an incandescent glow.

You’re finally happy.

“You also want one more thing,” Heeseung’s voice is a mere whisper now, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. Your pupils dilate as you lock eyes with him, his presence drawing you in as if he's reaching into the depths of your soul, rummaging around inside to pull you apart, “You’ve been craving me.”

A visceral energy electrifies every nerve ending in your body as he speaks, the expectation crackling in the air. You're standing on the verge of something exciting and new, and it feels like time has stopped still. The intensity of his stare searing into yours, the heat of his fingers against your back as he dips them up your shirt makes you shakily exhale the breath you were holding.

He rubs his beautiful, sharp nose against yours, closing his eyes as he reads further into your heart, “You feel like you’re missing out on me," he murmurs, his voice dripping with sinister undertones, because he knows he has you exactly where he wants you.

It’s embarrassing but it’s true, even if you don’t wish to admit it to yourself. You don’t want to seem ungrateful to the other three because truly they have given you everything you could ever need; but no amount of fulfilment from them can stop your aching body, wanting nothing more than to have the doll in front of you, the one who is currently holding you so tightly that you should feel trapped, yet you’ve never felt more liberated.

As his arms tighten around you, holding you in a suffocating grip, you find your voice trembling with desire and uncertainty, "You never showed any interest in me. I didn’t think you wanted me." 

A wicked grin twists across Heeseung's lips, his eyes glinting with malice as he leans down to your neck, licking a long stripe up your jugular, savouring your taste on his tongue. He can’t stop the rumble of a chuckle coming from his chest.

“Baby, you just seemed to be having such a good time with my brothers; who was I to deny them your presence?” Heeseung nips are your skin, eliciting a moan from your dry throat. The air around you both is stifling, the atmosphere heavy with want and greed because you both know what is about to happen, even if you want to stop it - which you don’t.

Heeseung’s allure is too powerful for you to deny, it’s easy to see how Soonyeol got sucked in so easily, wanting him in her life and summoning him here forever. His touch though, is another level of intoxication entirely. His large hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends your mind reeling, drowning in a sea of exhilaration.

As you part your lips to speak, Heeseung watches you with predatory patience, knowing that whatever words escape your mouth, they will only serve to further his agenda. In this moment, you are merely a pawn in his twisted game, powerless to defy the inexorable pull of his dark charisma.

“Jongseong said you don’t like to be last,” you say, discretely questioning his reasoning for not coming into contact with you sooner.

Laughing, Heeseung shakes his head with a sinister delight. His bottom lip grazes up your chin, dragging closer until it hovers mere millimetres from your mouth, “Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong. I wanted you to experience them first and let them have some fun with you,” he presses you harshly against him, letting you feel his thick cock against your heat, causing you to whimper slightly, much to his approval.

He kisses your lips every so lightly, your instincts to chase his mouth with yours only adding to his amusement. You’re such a strong-willed girl, he knows that by how he has observed you and how long you have remained in this house despite the constant terror and unease it has bestowed upon you. So to see you utterly weak like this is fueling his desire like crazy.

You look at him, waiting for him to talk again and say anything that would give you both the green light to divulge your sins.

“I let them have you because if I got to you first,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, and you can feel the smugness radiating from him, "You wouldn’t have even looked their fucking way."

Heat surges through you, an uncomfortable arousal that threatens to overwhelm you as you struggle to contain the torrent of desire within you. It's as if every inch of your skin is on fire, and you long to shed it all off your bones just to cool the burning sensation. The wetness between your legs is undeniable as it practically runs down your thighs.

Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his kisses trailing along your neck and jawline and your hands clench at your sides, tension and lust swirling within you. If this is going to happen, it's going to happen now, forcing you to confront the question that looms over you like a dark cloud,

Are you going to fuck a Prince from Hell?

There are so many wrongs to counteract the rightness of this moment, knowing that this is territory foreign to the others you’ve laid with. They might be celestial beings but Heeseung is a God in his own right and he fucking knows it.

You can feel his amusement radiating off him as he watches you struggle with your inner thoughts, relishing in your torment as you wrestle with the pros and cons of surrendering to him completely. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remains clear:

You want him. More than anything, you want to give in to the temptation that beckons you toward him, to lose yourself in the darkness that surrounds him. And as you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, you know that no matter the consequences, you're ready to embrace the inferno that awaits.

“So…can I ruin them for you?”

He looks at you using the triangle method and you almost physically fall to your knees, each time his eyes dart between your mouth and eyes, you feel saliva forming at the corner of your lip, lustfully loving his hooded eyes as he stares down at you. The way he assesses you, with a predatory focus that makes your heart race, leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

But you want to fuck him so bad, you think you might die.

With a skip of your heart, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. It's all the confirmation Heeseung needs and in an instant, his lips crash down on yours, a collision that would make Asmodeus jealous.

His touch is paradoxical, you can feel the roughness of his grip on your right tit, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his lips, and it only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. It’s obvious you're not alone in your craving; Heeseung has been consumed by thoughts of you since the first moment he laid eyes on you, a primal urge driving him to mark you as his own.

And as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know that there's no turning back.

"I'm gonna fucking destroy every other man for you," he growls before roughly pushing you onto the bed, the severity of which causes you whiplash. 

In urgency, Heeseung hastily works to remove your bottoms, his hands precise with anticipation, making sure he doesn’t lose another second. The fabric slides off your hips with ease, revealing the glistening wetness between your thighs and the cold air kisses your exposed cunt, making you shiver.

Heeseung's middle finger traces along your folds, collecting some of your slick arousal and spreading it with sinful precision, applying pressure on points you’re sensitive. As he teases you, his voice drips with a mixture of amusement and wicked desire.

"Your cunt is drooling over a demon, are you not embarrassed?" he taunts, his words laced with a dark edge that ignites a fierce blush on your cheeks. What’s worse is that his mockery only serves to stoke the lust within you, your hole clenching involuntarily in response.

Unfortunately for you, he notices, his chuckle knowing. "I do love a girl with no shame," he mumbles, his voice thick as he revels in the sight of your unabashed arousal.

With a predatory glint in his eyes, Heeseung wastes no time diving in, his mouth and tongue delving into your slick folds with a hunger that borders on ravenous. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as he explores every inch of your dripping sex with unrestrained fervour.

His movements are uninhibited, his tongue tracing erratic patterns against your sensitive nub as he seeks to consume you entirely. Each wet, sloppy lick and suck sends sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body, building the tension to an almost unbearable peak.

In the throes of pleasure, your instinctive reach to grab Heeseung's hair proves to be your first mistake. Before your fingers can even brush against his roots, he retaliates with a harsh bite on your clit, causing you to recoil with a cry, tears welling in your eyes.

“I didn’t say you could touch me, did I?” he warns, his mouth still wet with your juices as he looks up at you with a mix of dominance and satisfaction.

The memory of your first encounter with Jongseong floods your mind, the way he punished you for your disobedience is still vivid in your memory. It was meant to deter you from acting out, and in his case, it did. But now, with Heeseung, the desire to be reprimanded once again ignites within you, a need that demands satisfaction. 

Jongseong awakened something inside of you, a craving for submission and punishment that you never knew existed. And now, with Heeseung, you yearn to explore it on a new level, one that a sweet angel like Jongseong is too kind to deliver. 

It’s exciting and foolish all at once.

Gently, you run your hands through his hair, feeling the texture of it between your fingers as you grasp at his roots. 

Heeseung's reaction is immediate, his body tensing at your touch even as a low growl rumbles in his chest. But instead of pulling away, he leans into your touch, his tough facade cracking ever so slightly as a faint tremor runs through him. It's a fleeting moment of vulnerability, a crack in the armour he wears so proudly.

For a brief instant, you glimpse the man behind the Prince of Hell, a creature of darkness with desires and needs of his own. You ponder if this is what Soonyeol gives him, if that is why he is so reluctant to enjoy your comforting touch.

But before you can think much more about it, he reacts with swift brutality, sinking his teeth harshly down on your clit once more. The pain is searing, a sharp shock that tears a cry of both pain and pleasure from your lips. It's a punishment, yes, but one that you oh so desperately want.

His teeth sink in with immense force that causes you so much pain you try to escape, kicking your legs to scramble from him. But that only makes things worse as he grips your thighs with might to hold you in place, bruises and indents already forming under his nails. He adds a cruel twist, pulling at your bug sharply, causing your hips to rise instinctively towards his mouth in a futile attempt to ease the agony.

But Heeseung isn't fooled by your subtle movements. He catches on quickly, his grip tightening on your clit before he roughly pushes you down onto the bed, his palm pressing forcefully into your stomach to keep you in place.

"Don't make me rip it off," he growls, his eyes blazing with a volatile mix of anger and lust. It's a warning laced with danger, a reminder of the power he wields over you, “You’re so good for Jongseong, his…what did he call you? his ‘good little girl’, was that it?” he asks you with a condescending tone.

How did he know about that?

Your eyes widen and he idly rubs your pussy painfully slowly, sighing out loud with over-exaggeration, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Heeseung's knowledge of your intimate dynamics with Jongseong sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though moving torturously slowly, ignite sensations that both excite and terrify you. 

“What? You thought you could call upon the entirety of Hell and word wouldn’t get back to me?”

That night when Jongseong set your underwear ablaze and used your essence as a way to reach the pits below you. They heard it all; your whimpering and moaning for the angel, how you begged him to fuck you, and how he called you his good girl.

Which means Heeseung heard it all…

Spitting on your pussy, he licks it back up, the white foam sitting on his tongue as he draws it back into his mouth slowly. It’s another way of torturing you, of giving you a piece of him while just as quickly taking it away.

“If you can be a good girl for him, why aren’t you being one for me?” Heeseung's faux pout and slumped shoulders mask the dominance in his tone. With each flick of his finger, he revives the pain back onto your rose, denying you any reprieve.

You whimper with each taunt, wishing he would just go back to sucking your clit, to lick the wounds he created - but this is what you get when you play with fire.

Breathing out slowly, you nod, relenting your notion to be punished…for now.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good,” you say sorrowfully, thrusting your clit up as you serve yourself to him on a plate.

Heeseung pauses, his expression shifting as he considers your apology. For a moment, it seems as though he might relent, his features softening with the faintest hint of hesitation. But then, with a wicked glint in his eyes, he shakes his head slowly.

"You know," he muses, his voice dripping with amusement, "I've always had a preference for bad girls." You almost moan out loud, the way his voice changed gear from one of anger to one so sultry you can forecast rain for the next two days.

He kisses your clit softly and slowly with his petal-soft lips. The lewd sounds of his mouth combined with your wetness elicit tiny whines from your lips, creating a symphony of want and distress. It's an ennui unlike any other you've ever known, a dizzying combination of pleasure and agony that leaves you wanting more.

Heeseung's lips dip lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explores every inch of your quivering flesh. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.

"You want more, don’t you?" Heeseung's voice is a low murmur against your skin as he continues his tormenting actions. Each kiss, each caress sends ripples of sensation through you, building the tension to unbearable heights.

Before you can render yourself to say anything, he delves back in, his tongue now swirling in your hole, like he’s digging for treasure. You grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy of his touch. 

What doesn’t help is when you look down at him and see him smirking up at you, rubbing his nose against your clit. It’s enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs seize up.

“Oh god, Heeseung..." you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless whisper as pleasure washes over you in waves.

He draws back, his eyes ablaze with raw desire, "That's right, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. "I am your God now."

As you close your eyes, you suddenly feel two of his fingers delving into you, the sensation causing your back to arch, thus, pushing your heat further into his face. Everything you are experiencing right now is so overwhelming, there is no let-up and you think this is both the most painful and best you have ever felt.

Heeseung’s concentration is solely on you cumming undone, wanting only to see your face when you are overcome with bliss. He has had to spend 6 weeks or so listening to his brothers talk about how beautiful and ethereal you look as the whites of your eyes take over; now it’s his turn.

Curling his fingers inside you, he beckons your orgasm forward, pushing against the spongy flesh of your walls, his middle digit hitting deliciously against a soft spot while he flicks his tongue over your bud. You wriggle beneath him, soft moans escaping your lips as you feel your tummy coil.

Heeseung's efforts are rewarded as your body responds to his touch, pleasure building to a crescendo until it explodes within you. With a crying scream, you call out his name, your thighs instinctively clamping around his head as you ride the waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

Your body arches, seeking both escape from his relentless touch and yet craving more of the intoxicating sensation he provides. In that moment of release, you are utterly and completely lost to him, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he elicits from you.

Out of every orgasm you’ve had, this is the one that has rendered you completely dumb, incapable of doing anything more than panting and twitching.

But Heeseung doesn't grant you a moment to catch your breath. Even as your body shudders with the aftershocks of your climax, he commands you, his voice laced with authority. "Sit up," he orders, his tone brooking no argument as he guides you into a sitting position, his hand gripped tight in your hair as he yanks you forward. The air crackles with anticipation as you have no choice but to comply, “Strip me, baby.”

Without a second thought, you mindlessly rise to your feet, your fingers fumbling eagerly with the hem of Heeseung's loose white t-shirt. In one swift motion, you pull it over his head and toss it aside, your gaze hungrily tracing the contours of his bare chest. You want nothing more than to touch him, to caress his delicate skin with your hands, but you’re scared it’ll temper him into ripping all of this away from you.

Returning to sit on the bed with renewed enthusiasm, you focus your attention on his baggy grey joggers, swiftly untying the strings and pulling them down to reveal his naked form beneath. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his arousal, his impressive length standing semi-hard before you.

Without hesitation, you reach out and grasp his cock, feeling the heat of his faux skin beneath your fingertips. With a sense of urgency, you press your lips to his flushed tip, desperate to taste him before he can deny you the pleasure.

You lick at his shaft like he’s a frozen popsicle on a swarming hot summer day, your need driving your hurry as you coat him in saliva. The more you lick, the harder he gets and his throat has to hold back groans.

Heeseung's initial instinct is to reprimand you for your boldness, for daring to take control in such a way, but unlike Jongseong, he has little self-control, the pleasure he’s feeling as your mouth envelopes him fully is more than enough cause to let you continue. 

As his mouth relaxes and his eyes screw shut, you take advantage of the opportunity to explore him further, dropping your head to focus on his balls. The sensation is amazing, sending pleasure-filled sparks through his body as he surrenders part of himself to you. 

You’re so drunk on his cock right now that you don’t even care how desperate you look, you just need him in every way possible. If he asked, you would probably fuck him in his demon form;  as long as you could taste him on your tongue, that is all that matters.

Heeseung pushes your head back abruptly, his fingernails digging deep into your scalp, causing a disgruntled whine to fall from your mouth. 

The throbbing between your legs beats loudly in your eardrums as you look up and see his eyes, that same red flickering behind his pupils except this time, they swirl with a deep black cloud. You can tell he’s aching to be released from the confines of the doll suit, to break free and absolutely devour you in his true form. 

You should feel scared, petrified even, yet you only long for him more.

“You’ll never make it to heaven with a tongue like that, Baby.” 

His words, spoken with a hint of warning, only serve to fuel the fire burning within you, "What makes you think I want to go to heaven?" you retort, your voice dripping with desire and defiance.

With a sly smirk, Heeseung leans in closer, sending shivers down your spine, "Maybe you prefer the flames of hell," he murmurs, his tone laced with dark promise, "And I'll be more than happy to escort you there myself."

Heeseung's hand grips your hair with a firmness that borders on possessive. He then thrusts his cock into your mouth with commanding force, the sudden intrusion eliciting a gasp of surprise from you, causing you to choke slightly.

But that doesn’t stop him, instead, he just continues to batter your throat with his length brutally, each punch of his hips only further bruising your oesophagus. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Yet, why do you love it? The feeling of your world almost going black, the way your body tightens around nothing but the desire to breathe, it’s deadly but you couldn’t be more alive.

Feeling you splurt out tiny breathes around his dick as you gasp for air, Heeseung pulls your head back, letting oxygen breathe back into your lungs.

He takes the moment to admire you; your hair tousled in his hands, your mascara smudging slightly around your eyes, and the spit mixed with some beads of his precum sliding slowly down your chin. You’re angelic, demonic, and everything he could ever want right now.

You’re so horny that not having his cock filling up one of your holes is leaving you whimpering, tears forming in your eyes - not from pain but need. You need to feel him in some way, you are starving for him, and one more second without tasting him might send you into madness.

And Heeseung knows it, he can hear your greatest, deepest desires after all. The thought of you under his spell without him using a single persuasive tactic is euphoric to him. Through the years, Soonyeol has grown accustomed to him, expecting his demanding nature but never truly worshipping him the way he wants; not the way you are right now.

This might only be for tonight but he will try and make it last an eternity.

Huffing out in frustration, you grow tired of waiting for Heeseung to make his move, opting instead to brush your face across his throbbing cock. The sensation of his velvety shaft against your cheeks is phenomenal, the need for contact driving you to this demoralising state. 

Closing your eyes, you relish in the tactile sensation, savouring the moment of intimacy as you slap his cock against your cheek and mouth. The hunger within you demands satisfaction, and you're willing to take whatever scraps of pleasure you can get, even if it's just the simple touch of his arousal against your skin.

“You’re so fucking filthy, baby,” he growls, his eyes blown in ecstasy while he watches you lather yourself with his member, “Are you that much of a cockslut?”

Absentmindedly you nod, owning up to the degrading nickname because, at the end of the day, that is exactly what you are right now; a cockslut, an ever-needing, desperate cockslut for none other than the high-ranking Prince of Hell.

Nudging your nose with his tip, you beg him like a dog to let go of your hair and stuff your mouth full once again. The mewls leaving your mouth flood Heeseung’s ears and he understands that you’re too far gone to form a sentence, so he grants your wish and shoves himself back into you.

His hips buck forward with a fierce urgency that sends your head shaking with each forceful thrust. The intensity of his movements makes your eyes roll back, driving you deeper into a state of arousal as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm.

But with your mouth full, your pussy is feeling dangerously left out, your entire heat seeking some form of release. Without realising it, you start to hump the air, moving your hips as though you were grinding on his cock.

Heeseung's movements falter for a moment as he notices your struggle to find complete pleasure. With a low grow, he halts his thrusts, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest.

“Look at you,” he points out, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, watching as your juices leak out your cunt, staining his sheets a darker shade.

Smirking, he places his foot on the edge of the bed, pressing ever so lightly onto your dripping heat. You gasp and pop off his cock, looking down as you see your way to much-needed relief. Heeseung steps on you roughly, offering you a sturdy anchor which you eagerly accept. Despite the pain as the ball of his foot presses against your clit, you push your body against it, relishing in the firmness of his sole against your skin; you’ll take any relief you can get.

Every movement sends a surge of electric pleasure coursing through you, the friction between your bodies. You grind against him with increasing intensity, your hips undulating in perfect rhythm with his foot as you chase after the elusive peak of ecstasy.

“Keep sucking it or I’ll take it away,” he warns, tapping his cock on your gaped mouth

The chilling warning from Heeseung serves as a reminder of the balance between pleasure and punishment. Taking his cock back into your mouth with newfound vitality, you return to your task with a sense of urgency. The taste of him is intoxicating, fueling your urge to please him and avoid the consequences of disobedience. You do not want him to take anything away from you.

He moves in tandem with your hips, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you fuck yourself shamelessly on his foot as if you were a wanton whore in heat. Your hands gripping his leg for more leverage, seeking another release as fast as possible.

Humming around his length in a high-pitched cry, you climax violently, your impulse to thrust forward only shoving his cock farther into your throat, stretching it wide in ways you don't believe is humanly possible. 

"Fuck-" Heeseung groans, the sound raw as he releases his thick ropes of cum down your throat, your climax setting off a chain reaction. His mouth hangs wide open as his throbbing shaft finds home in your canal, his eyebrows furrowed together as he loses himself. He can’t help but think what your perfect little pussy feels like as you cum, how it would squeeze him tighter than your throat can.

You are swimming in a pool of pure fire as you lose yourself to the engulfing of pleasure, riding his foot through your climax while swallowing his seed. This is a feeling you will never experience with any other man and you know now what he meant when he said you would never have looked at the others if he had his way with you first.

When both of your minds clear and your lungs are screaming out for oxygen, you pop off his cock, giving it an adoring kiss as a thank you for what has just happened and what it is about to do to you.

Looking down at you, Heeseung marvels at your display of gratitude, wishing every human was as worshipful. 

“I’d love to rip that soul from your body and stuff you in a doll suit so I can fuck you forever.”

His admission catches you both off guard, the silence of the afternoon lying dormant around the room. Did he mean that? Did he want to take your soul and keep you? It’s plausible considering his history but to hear it being said about you makes your blood run cold.

But at this moment, if he asked you to let him in and take you, you might just let him - or maybe it was the emptiness of your cunt that was talking.

“I don’t need to be a doll to fuck until the moon shines and the sunrises,” you whisper, your lust completely taking over your body. The once timid and unsure version of yourself has faded into oblivion, replaced by someone bold, relentless, and consumed by the craving to be stuffed with his cock.

He audibly groans, hearing how keen you are for him to devour you, not even put off by his threatening admission just moments earlier. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head and shaking his thoughts, Heeseung lifts your chin and pulls on your bottom lip, staring at you as he figures out exactly how he wants you. He swipes his tongue along the corner of his mouth, “I’m going to hold you to that, baby. Get on all fours,” he instructs.

Doing as he says, you turn around and drop to your hands and knees, offering yourself up to him as your heart pounds in your chest in exhilaration. You wiggle your ass a bit, hoping he'll take the hint and dive in, fucking you as hard and fast as he so wishes. 

Your ass is so perfect and plump he can’t help but grab at it, using his strong hands to knead your cheeks, pressing and pulling them apart as he takes quick glances at both of your holes. He wishes he had two cocks just to utterly destroy you with, each of your entrances filled with him as he pounds into you. Unfortunately, he only has one right now and he knows it’s your cunt that needs him the most, so he’ll save that idea for another time.

Grasping his cock, he slides it up and down your ass, shallowly tapping it to get him hard again, but with the way you’re already grasping the sheets in anticipation and your cunt is soaked with need, it doesn’t take him long. Heeseung strokes himself a couple of times before resting his tip at your gaping heat, the bell turning rosé as it pushes just slightly into you.

It's agonising, the way he waits there as though he's not equally consumed by the thought of rocking your world. He's deliberately drawing it out, savouring the anticipation, revelling in the sweet sound of your pleas, knowing that your cries for him are his ultimate desire fulfilled.

"Please, Heeseung," you whimper, arching your body towards him, desperate for the connection, but he always stays just out of reach, teasingly withholding what you crave.

You groan in frustration, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. He's in control, and you can't help but revel in the way he toys with you, pushing you to the brink of madness with his tantalising touch.

But there is only so much a girl can take, so with a resolute sparkle in your eyes, you make it clear that you will not be denied any longer. Ignoring his playful taunting, you reach between your bodies and direct his hardness to the entrance of your smooth heat. Swiftly, you impale yourself on him, a moan escaping your lips as you take him deep inside.

Heeseung's eyes widen in surprise, momentarily stunned by your boldness, but it's only for a minute before a wicked grin spreads across his face. You are so much more than he could have ever imagined.

Slapping your ass harshly, he hopes to still you but it only makes you rock onto him faster. You set a punishing pace, riding him with abandon, lost in the ecstasy of finally having him where you want him. 

Again, he crashes his hand painfully against your cheek but you won’t stop, you can’t, his dick is so delicious as it sucks into your cunt. Rapidly, he hits you, one, two, three, four, all in quick strikes and all you can do is clench your pussy around him and moan, picking up your pace.

“I can’t even punish you because you love it,” he notes, leaning back to observe you in awe, loving how your body is starting to flush with sweat as you work overtime to take what you need from him. 

“Fuck I wish you could see how pathetic you look right now.”

Gripping the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turn white as your chest tightens. The angle of his cock is hitting you so deliciously that you can’t even breathe properly or register a word he’s saying. All you heard was ‘pathetic’ and you agree with him because that’s how you’re backing yourself onto his long shaft.

Heeseung watches you in amazement, his own desire growing as he observes your relentless determination. "You love it, don't you?" he remarks, his voice laced with true admiration. He lets you have a few more moments of fun, clasping his hands at the back of his neck and pulling down, watching you with dangerous eyes. With the way your walls are closing in, he knows you’re close. “Tell me you love my cock.”

You nod, burying your face into the sheets as your coil threatens to snap, the harsh rhythm you set for yourself is faltering slightly as you reach your next climax. But when you don’t answer him and stroke his ego, it snaps Heeseung back into his domineering state. 

Roughly bunching up your hair, he pulls your face from the bed and leans into your ear, his chest laid flat against your back, “Fucking answer me when I speak to you. Tell me you fucking love it,” he growls out his demands, ripping some of your hair from their roots.

Your breath catches in your throat as his grip tightens, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper, you finally concede, unable to resist his commanding presence any longer. "I love it," you gasp, your voice strained with need as you surrender to his dominance. "I love your cock so fucking much!"

A satisfied smirk spreads across Heeseung's lips as he releases your hair, his fingers trailing down your spine in a possessive caress, "That's what I thought," he murmurs, his voice sneering before pushing your head into the mattress.

From that moment on, the dynamic shifts entirely. Heeseung takes control with ruthless determination, smothering your face into the softness of the bedsheets. His strength overwhelms you as he holds you firmly in place, your features pressed into the fabric until you know you'll emerge from this session with a pounding headache.

Your muffled protests are lost in the sheets as Heeseung continues to assert his dominance, his grip unyielding. He piledrives into you, his foot now on the edge of the bed to give him more stability. His skin is furiously slapping against yours as he takes you brutally from behind.

"You wanted this, remember? Now, let me show you who's in charge."

Releasing your head, Heeseung grants you a moment to gulp in air, your chest heaving as you crave the sweet relief of oxygen. But his attention swiftly shifts, his hands now gripping your hips with a firmness that promises bruises, yet you welcome it eagerly. With each powerful thrust, he plunges deeper into you, his sizable cock filling you to the brim with each relentless motion.

With hunger burning in his eyes, Heeseung unleashes his pent-up desire upon you, each thrust a savage declaration of his dominance. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, his strength undeniable as he takes complete control.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks in their wake, tangible evidence of his possession. Every time he thrusts, he claims you anew, his relentless rhythm driving you to the edge of sanity and pleasure.

The sound of your mingled moans fills the air, a symphony of ecstasy and pain as he pushes you to the brink and pulls you back again. Your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of sweat and sex, the slick friction of your bodies moving together in perfect synchrony. 

You’ve got a pussy that could even make demons pray, Heeseung thinks to himself. He could watch you all day, how your cunt swallows him like its sole purpose was to please his cock. But as much as he likes the shape of your body as he takes you from behind, he longs to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.

Heeseung flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as he continues to ravish you with unrestrained passion, his hands pressing hard on your waist. Your head spins as the world shifts, your back now pressed firmly against the mattress, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.

His eyes fixate on your bouncing tits, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips as he watches them with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, instinct taking over as he becomes entranced by the sight of your pretty mounds. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous,” his voice husky with desire as he reaches out to caress your soft skin, his touch setting your nerves ablaze with longing. He seems so gentle right now, like the demon inside him has subsided. You cherish the tiny glimpses of his vulnerability, knowing they come few and far between.

The tender moment doesn’t last long though as he quickens his pace once more, the bed beneath you squeaking and whimpering along with you. 

Suddenly, his hand finds its way between your legs, his fingers deftly seeking out your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you, but before you can protest, his touch becomes too much, too overwhelming.

"It's too much," you whimper, trying to push his hand away, but he only presses harder, his grip unyielding. "Please, Heeseung, it's too-"

"Shut up," he interrupts, his voice firm and devilish as he continues to play with you, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless stroke. "You love it, and you know it."

And you do, you love it so much more than you can even describe. Your body stiffens as you feel yourself about to experience your nth orgasm. Honestly, you’ve lost track of how many it is now, the whole night blending into one big bout of pleasure.

You arch your back as his bell strokes right along your soft spot, causing a wave of ecstasy to wash over you, your mouth opens as you let out an earth-shattering cry, “Holy fuck, Heeseung!” 

But he shows no signs of slowing down, his movements becoming even more relentless as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a primal roar, you feel it - the sudden, intense release as pleasure explodes within you, shooting through your body like a bolt of lightning.

Heeseung thinks, no, he knows this is what heaven looks like, it has to be; the way your body opens up as wide as it can go, laying yourself bare like this while chanting a ritual of profanities. You look like you’re being exorcised and it’s so fucking hot to him.

What he takes a minute to notice though, is how his stomach and arm are being covered in your release, pouring out of you so perfectly as you bathe him in your essence. You’re squirting for him. 

Smirking, he doesn’t let up the flicks to your clit or the pointed thrusts into your pussy, he wants to see how long this can last.

As you thrash beneath him, Heeseung lifts your hips higher with his left arm, driving into you with even greater force, his movements relentless as he seeks to elicit every last drop of pleasure from you. With each thrust, your juices flow even more freely, coating him in a slick sheen of your arousal.

"Holy hell, Baby," he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Look at you baptising me."

He chuckles to himself, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal as he revels in the sensation of being drenched in your ecstasy. If this was the holy water people spoke about, he might just turn up to church every Sunday.

The tears falling from your eyes at the overstimulation tell him it’s time to drive it home, to finally let go and satisfy his own needs once again. Slowly, he shifts his weight, positioning himself for the final act of surrender. With each deliberate movement, he inches closer to the edge, his desire burning fiercely as he prepares to claim what is rightfully his.

Entering you once more, he relishes in the sensation of your heat enveloping him, drawing him deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Each thrust brings him closer to the brink, his senses ablaze, and just like that, he is cumming inside of you, shooting ropes of his white seed deep into your womb.

You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of him, unable to get a good visual last time with his cock stuffed deep into your throat. You expect to see his vulnerability as with climaxes comes a complete lack of control, but you see something far different to your imagination.

His eyes are clouded with red, like he’s rolling his pupils so far back that you’re looking straight into his demon entity, like you can see the Prince of Hell in his true form. In some sick way, you don’t think he has looked more beautiful. He moans loudly but his voice is deeper, more threatening than usual, yet you find yourself reaching for his face, his allure drawing you in further than ever before.

His aura is dark and cloying, yet there's a slight change within him the second your fingertips brush his face. As if your touch can soothe the storm within him, the whirling black and crimson cloud that envelops him appears to diminish. He closes his eyes as he gives in to the calming effect of your touch.

Never before in his life has he met someone who could have such an effect on him. Although he is in control at this very moment, he is well aware that your power could render him defenceless with just a single gesture.

Guiding him, you pull his face down to you as you kiss him softly, breathing your life into him gently which he gladly accepts. As the kiss deepens, he shifts you gently, urging you to rest your head on his pillow, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you comply, sinking into the comfort of the mattress beneath you. He continues to explore your lips with a playful urgency, teasing you as you chase his elusive kisses.

“Heeseung-” you whine out but it barely makes audio waves as the fucking your throat received and the screams that ripped from your chest make it hard to talk.

Bringing his hand up to your throat, he applies gentle pressure, his touch like a soothing balm against the burning sensation. With each stroke of his fingers, the tension in your voice box begins to ease, the discomfort gradually fading away beneath his tender ministrations.

Heeseung meets your gaze with a fond intensity, sliding his cock out slowly as he shifts his body to create a space for you to lay your head on his chest. His arms wrap securely around you and he cradles you close, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat returning. 

"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.

There's a part of you that yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?

"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.

You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”

As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.

"Say the word and she's gone, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.

Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?

Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.

“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.

“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.

“Y/N? Can you answer me?”

“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”

“Please answer me!”

Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence.

But even as you feel yourself slipping under his spell, the echo of Jaeyun's pleas reverberates in your mind and with a jolt, you force yourself to pull away from the Prince's enchanting hold, breaking free from the spell he's woven around you.

“I don’t want this,” you push Heeseung away, your heart beating quickly as you realise what you have almost done, the distance from his touch giving you a sense of clarity, dispelling the fog of desire that clouded your judgement. “This is Soonyeol’s life, not mine. I won’t trade in one hell for another.”

Heeseung's eyes flash with anger for a fleeting moment, a storm brewing behind his gaze. But just as quickly as it comes, he reigns in his emotions, the tempest within him subsiding as he regains his composure. 

“Fine. Don’t stay. But let me make these two weeks you have left count,” his signature smug expression returns as though you hadn’t seen the soul behind the demon a mere 10 minutes ago.

_____

Packing your bag, a heavy weight settles over you, dragging you down as you come to terms with the reality that this is the end. Two months of fear, lust, adoration, and anxiety swirl together in a tumultuous cocktail of emotions, each one vying for dominance as you prepare to bid farewell to it all.

With each item you place into your bag, it’s as if you’re emptying a foreign version of yourself. You know when you go home you’ll wear these same clothes and brush your hair with the same bristles, but it won’t be you anymore.

Maybe you should have taken Heeseung up on his offer.

Or perhaps this is the start of a new chapter for you. This new identity you feel surging inside your veins might help you navigate the big bad world a little easier. 

Feeling a pair of arms encircle you from behind, you instinctively lean into Jaeyun's embrace, his presence offering a sense of solace amidst the uncertainty. His chin rests on your shoulder, his nose tickling the skin of your neck as he nuzzles closer, seeking comfort in your embrace.

"Please don't go, Y/N. I need you," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. The vulnerability in his words pierces through your own turmoil, reminding you of the depth of his feelings and the pain of letting go.

At that moment, as you stand entwined together, you both understand the weight of the connection that binds you. It's more than just the physical intimacy you've shared; it's a bond forged throughout your two months here. Everyone can see it, feel it - the undeniable truth that your relationship transcends mere physical attraction.

But you need to let him go.

"You don't need me, Baby doll," you murmur softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "You've got Soonyeol. She will look after you just like before."

As the words leave your lips, a sorrowful cloud settles over you, the reality of your impending departure sinking in. Despite the pain of leaving Jaeyun behind, you find solace in the knowledge that he won't be alone, that someone will be there to care for him in your absence.

But even as you try to reassure him, a part of you can't shake the feeling of loss that grips your heart. Though Soonyeol may provide comfort and support, you know that your absence will leave a void that can't be easily filled.

Sunghoon hugs you both from the side, his sudden presence a comfort. Even after you discovered that he was a demon, you knew deep down he wasn’t a terrible soul, he was just trapped in bad circumstances, forced to live a life he hated. There is evil within him, that much is true, but he wouldn’t use it haphazardly or indiscriminately.

“I’ll miss you too, baby girl. More than I think I’d like to admit,” he confesses, squeezing you and Jaeyun tight in his arms.

“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” Jongseong’s voice rings loud in your temporary room, causing you and your boys to break apart. Tenderly kissing each of them goodbye, they gracefully exit the room, leaving you alone with Jongseong, granting you both the privacy needed for your conversation.

"What's up? Gonna miss me?" you tease, playfully punching Jongseong's shoulder.

Jongseong chuckles, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nods. "More than you'll know...but I need to tell you something."

The playful banter fades away, replaced by a solemn atmosphere that settles between you. The air grows heavy with anticipation as you wait for Jongseong to speak, sensing that whatever he has to say is of great importance.

Taking a deep breath, Jongseong meets your gaze with a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, I need you to do something for me," he begins, his voice steady despite the weight of his request.

"What is it?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the seriousness in his tone.

Jongseong hesitates for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "I need you to talk to Heeseung," he says, his expression earnest, "Ask him to untether Jaeyun from Soonyeol."

“What? Why?”

“Heeseung told you Jaeyun’s story, right? How he was supposed to be a guardian?” Jongseong's eyebrows raise expectantly, his gaze searching your face for understanding. Slowly, you nod, though confusion clouds your features. Sighing, Jongseong clasps his hands together as he continues, “I think…somehow…he is supposed to be your guide, your guardian angel.”

Jaeyun? Your guardian angel? A mighty laugh leaves your lips as you think he’s pulling some sick joke, but he is not laughing, not even a hint of mischief playing around on his expression. He is deadly serious here.

“Wait…what? But aren’t guardian angels assigned at like, birth or something?” you question, not wrapping your mind around the idea just yet. 

Jongseong nods thoughtfully, his expression grave. "Yes, traditionally, that's how it works," he replies, his tone tinged with uncertainty, "But sometimes, fate has a way of... rearranging things. Guardian angels can also be soulmates in the realm of living.”

You lean back, trying to process this new information. "So, you’re now telling me that Jaeyun is my soulmate? So which is he?"

“Well, when he died it was sudden and tragic, no one saw it coming. It wasn’t planned the way God intended and that day you lost your soulmate. But you were meant to gain your angel that day…until Heeseung pulled him away.”

The weight of Jongseong's words hangs heavily in the air, sinking deep into your consciousness. A sense of disbelief washes over you as you try to comprehend the implications of his revelation. Jaeyun, your soulmate? The idea seems both surreal and profound, challenging everything you thought you knew about love and destiny.

There is no denying the connection you have but it all seems more outlandish than the library having a fire telephone to ring hell up and have a gab.

Jongseong feels your body overcoming with contemplation and questioning his words, so he jumps in. “All the signs are there, Princess. The connection you both have, how you can feel one another's emotions, Jaeyun has even been telling me he feels like there is a string pulling him to you.”

“A string?”

"Mhm, It is what binds a guardian angel to their human, and when you leave, it will shatter, just like your heart, and you will both be in such agony that it will swallow you whole," he says solemnly, his voice tinted with his personal experiences, "Trust me, I know it better than anyone."

Jongseong and Soonyeol…their string must have been broken once he was banished from being her guide. As you look at the sadness etched across his face, you know you never want to experience the pain they both must have felt.

“I don’t want to let him go, but he belongs here with Soonyeol. Heeseung told me how she needed him too,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you confess your inner anguish.

He feels your pain and inwardly cries for you. Gently, he uses two of his fingers to lift your chin, his eyes boring into yours as he pleads with you. “YOU need him, Sweetheart, just like he needs you. Please, grant me permission to speak to Heeseung on your behalf, I’ll sort something out with him, okay?”

His words resonate deep within you, stirring a sense of hope amidst the despair. Maybe Jongseong could convince Heeseung somehow. Perhaps your time spent with Heeseung over the past two weeks would count for something. After all, there had been moments of connection and understanding between you, moments that hinted at a deeper bond than he would probably like to admit.

But then doubt creeps in. Would Heeseung truly consider your feelings in his decision? Or would he give you the same ultimatum he had given before - stay and he would rid this house and the boys of Soonyeol, without a second thought?

You suppose you have to try, right?

“Talk to him, but only if Jaeyun wants to, this is his decision too.”

_____

As the sound of Soonyeol’s car driving up the gravel path reaches your ears, it feels like her tyres are rolling over your heart. Standing with your bags packed, you glance at the boys, each of them sitting in their dining room seats, ready to take on their doll personas once again. Each of their gazes says something different, but sorrow is evident.

“I’ll miss you guys,” you pout, unable to suppress the sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. Fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, you try to mask the ache of impending departure with a feeble attempt at a smile. But the weight of the moment looms, casting a shadow over the room as you prepare to say goodbye to the home and the family you've come to cherish.

“We’ll miss you too, baby girl,” Sunghoon smiles softly, his hand reaching out to grasp yours one last time, a silent reassurance amidst the impending farewell.

Jaeyun's expression is heavy with heartache, his eyes pleading with you to stay, but you can't bear to meet his gaze. You know that Jongseong's talk with Heeseung didn't go as hoped, and the disappointment hangs thick in the air, making your departure that much more difficult.

Suddenly, Jaeyun stands up, his movements swift as he storms over to you. Without a word, he pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands cradling your cheeks as he pours all his love and longing into the embrace. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his touch, savouring the taste of his lips against yours.

You hug him tightly, forcing the lump in your throat to retreat back to your stomach, cherishing this last moment.

“Jaeyun, get back in your seat, Soonyeol will be here any minute,” Heeseung warns, his voice pulling you both from your moment. 

As Jaeyun's lips leave yours, the air between you crackles with unspoken emotions. His stare is intense, searching yours for any way he can stay with you. But you can only offer him a small, sad smile, knowing that your time together is slipping away with each passing second.

The thing that hurts the most is that Jaeyun has no clue that he is your soulmate or was supposed to be your guardian angel, he just thinks he’s losing your love when in fact, he’s losing part of his soul that you’ll take with you.

“I gave you my number, yeah? Give me a call anytime you can,” you mutter into his lips, finally stepping back to let him go back to the life he knows.

Within a second of Jaeyun taking his place, Soonyeol comes through the door, a gleeful smile plastered on her face as he looks straight at her dolls. It’s evident that she’s missed them but then again, who wouldn’t? You know as soon as you leave here you’re going to have a hole in your heart, pieces of it left with each one of them - even Heeseung.

Turning, she looks at you sceptically, noting the off atmosphere in the room but you don’t allow her a second to ponder it, interjecting as she goes to speak. “So, Soonyeol, how was your trip?”

“Oh, it was excellent! Just a few bits and bobs to tidy up.” She avoids divulging your curiosity. It’s clear her business was either extremely mundane to the point that there was nothing to tell you about, or that she is still harbouring a secret from you. To be honest, you think you’re done snooping and uncovering secrets for the rest of your life.

Ignorance might just be bliss.

She rummages her tote bag in search of a brown envelope, which she gladly hands you, “Here is everything, I counted it 5 times so it should be right,” you marvel at the wad of cash in your hand. Never in your life have you seen this much money in one go, it’s truly amazing. “How were my boys? I hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Like they were never here,” you lie, smiling softly which eases Soonyeol’s mind.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I can tell you’ve done a wonderful job here, I can’t thank you enough!” she beams as she looks longingly into Heeseung’s eyes. There is a spark of adoration between them that makes you smile, although you do want to warn her that he would have literally killed her if you asked him to.

Again, ignorance is bliss.

Gathering your belongings, you give the dolls one last look over, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving them behind. With a heavy sigh, you turn to Soonyeol, offering her a small, grateful smile.

"It was a pleasure, Soonyeol. Thank you for trusting me enough to look after them and this house," you say, your voice overcome with sincerity.

Soonyeol returns your smile, her expression warm and genuine. "If I ever need anyone again, you will be first on my call list," she replies, her words carrying a sense of appreciation for your dedication.

You bid farewell to the house and the memories it holds as you trudge through the long hallways. You can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the experiences you've shared and the bonds you've formed. You’ll miss them all so dearly that it hurts you to even turn your back on them, but you know it’s for the best.

Carting your suitcase along the gravel, you catch sight of your car sitting patiently, a thin layer of dust coating its surface from the weeks it's spent waiting for your return. You had given up on cleaning it a while ago, unable to bear the reminders that your departure was imminent.

With a heavy heart, you click the boot open and shove your suitcase inside, the action punctuated by the force with which you slam it shut. Each motion is filled with a mix of sadness and frustration, emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface.

“Y/N, wait!” The familiar voice cuts through the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. Turning around, you're met with a sight that fills you with both hope and trepidation. 

Your heart quickens in your chest as you spot Jaeyun darting towards you, his face a blend of determination and urgency. Without hesitation, he closes the distance between you in a few rapid strides, his fingers reaching out to ensnare yours.

In an instant, he envelops you in his embrace, his lips descending upon yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. Time appears to halt as the world fades into the background, leaving only the two of you entwined in a whirlwind of emotion.

The kiss is a whirlwind of emotion, a testament to the depth of your connection, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated.

As you pull away, a sense of urgency floods through you, prompting you to glance back at the house with a surge of panic. "Jaeyun, go back inside. Soonyeol-"

But before you can finish, Jaeyun interrupts with a bright smile, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, "I'm coming with you," he declares, punctuating his words with a gentle kiss on your nose.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, confusion swirling in your mind, "But I thought Heeseung said no?" you ask, searching Jaeyun's face for reassurance.

Jaeyun nods, holding you tight to him, “He said he was just waiting for Soonyeol, to ask if she would let me go and she said yes, can you believe it?” 

No. No, you really can’t.

Then again, you know from your time with Heeseung and the box of cherished memories between him and Soonyeol that he really does do everything for her. If she wanted to keep Jaeyun then Heeseung would never dream of cutting the tie between the younger and his minder. 

A wave of relief washes over you, mingled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, you realise that your happy ending isn't just a distant dream - it's within reach, waiting for you to seize it. 

Glancing back at the house, you spot the others standing at the door, their figures framed by the warm glow of the sun. Soonyeol stands among them, her expression a mix of fondness and understanding, a knowing grin playing at the corners of her lips as she waves you off. She doesn’t look upset at the boys for blowing the secret but rather happy that one of them found serenity with someone the way she has with this house, with the dolls.

Quite honestly, you thought she would have blown a gasket but she isn’t the evil overlord you pictured her to be, even after Heeseung’s story of how she just wanted away from her toxic family you thought she must be hiding something to go to such lengths; perhaps hurt them or worse. But she really is just a girl, looking to live a peaceful life with a family she chooses, not one picked for her by God.

It all makes sense, calling upon Heeseung, because she lost her faith in the divine. Even heaven banished Jongseong for being dedicated to his job which tore them apart, she just did what she had to do.

A pang of sadness washes over you as you realise you're leaving behind the friends who have become like family to you. Each of them holds a piece of your heart, and the thought of saying goodbye, tugs at your emotions.

But as you turn to face Jaeyun, his hand clasped firmly in yours and that puppy-like smile plastered on his face, a sense of peace settles over you. With him by your side, you know you'll be okay. 

Besides, who says you can’t pop back for a visit?

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fic #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #tdh #aj writes

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five, five being the most recent part. read part five here

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Now (PT. 2)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]

(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)

Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything. 

After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.

"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling’ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.

Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.

"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace. 

Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"

"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."

"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.

"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.

"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."

Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."

"And?"

"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."

"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"

"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?

"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.

"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."

"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"

"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.

"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"

Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.

"Why?"

"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.

"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.

"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."

"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."

Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.

"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."

You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.

"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.

"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.

"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.

All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.

When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.

Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.

You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.

Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much. 

Dick, in that way, was too much.

You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with. 

Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…

You hope he's okay, at least.

Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.

You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely. 

It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.

You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…

Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick. 

Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.

The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.

Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.

Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.

Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.

As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?

Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.

Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all. 

So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.

Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.

Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on. 

Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.

Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else. 

Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…

Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.

Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.

The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.

Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway. 

Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.

Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.

Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.

Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.

Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.

You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.

The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.

A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.

You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.

You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.

Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.

Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.

… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance. 

Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.

You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.

Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.

His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.

Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.

“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.

“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.

“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can’t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before. 

“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.

You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.

“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.

He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far. 

While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.

Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.

Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.

Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.

Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time. 

A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him. 

You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.

You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment. 

Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.

Point is, you have clearly changed. 

Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.

Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.

It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least. 

Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.

Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.

He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.

“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.

Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?

Why now? What was going on?

“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.

So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.

“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.

He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”

“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.

Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?

Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?

Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?

Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?

You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.

Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.

“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”

So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely. 

Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.

Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore. 

Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.

However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.

“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest. 

Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.

“I’m here to see you.”

‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.” 

Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.

“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.

“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart. 

“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.

“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.

Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.

“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.

“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”

Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.

There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.

You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?

From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.

The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.

“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.

“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”

“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”

“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”

“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”

“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.

“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”

“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.

“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't. 

If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now. 

“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well. 

So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask. 

“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.

He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.

“... What do you-”

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.

“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process. 

“...”

You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?

You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.

“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”

Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.

He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.

He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.

“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.

Something he doesn't find.

He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”

“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax. 

“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”

“I know where it is.”

“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.

“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?” 

“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”

Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”

“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface. 

“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.

“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”

“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”

“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”

“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.

Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?

“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.

“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”

“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.

“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.

“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?” 

“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.

However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.

“We both know how that turned out.”

If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.

“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.

“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”

“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does. 

“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop. 

“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.

“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer. 

“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”

“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.

Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.

Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.

“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.

You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.

“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.

“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.

“Just. Stop.”

“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why. 

Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset. 

After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother? 

You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.

… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain. 

Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.

This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.

“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.

Is he seriously asking you that?

“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”

“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.

“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.

“... What?”

“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”

Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?

He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”

“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.

“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.

“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-

Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.

“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”

“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.

“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.

You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”

An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.

He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.

“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now,  “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.

“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”

“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.

The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”

The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out. 

So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.

“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”

“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”

“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.

The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?

“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”

Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.

Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”

“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.

“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ‘let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.

“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.

“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”

“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?

“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”

“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”

“Y/n, please, just calm down-”

“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”

“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.

Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”

“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”

“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”

“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained. 

“Well, I’m just saying-”

“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.

Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”

“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”

“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”

“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.

“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”

“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.

Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.

“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”

“Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?

It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.

“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”

“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”

“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”

For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.

“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.

“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”

“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”

“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”

“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”

“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”

“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”

“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”

“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.

“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”

“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.

“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”

“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”

“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”

“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.

Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.

If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.

Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.

“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”

“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”

“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”

“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”

“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”

“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”

“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”

“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”

“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”

“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”

“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”

“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”

“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”

“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.

You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.

“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”

“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”

“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”

“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”

“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”

“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”

“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”

Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.

“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it.  Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing. 

He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.

So, he falls silent. You both do.

Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.

“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.

Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.

“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”

You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”

Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.

He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.

… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.

Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.

[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]

Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.

[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]

… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.

With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.

Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.

Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.

Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.

The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.

Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.

With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.

For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.

—----------

Dick had no such luxury.

The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.

All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.

Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.

“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.

“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.

“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.

Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”

“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.

“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”

Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”

“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.

“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”

“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”

“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment. 

Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.

“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.

Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.

… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.

“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.

That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”

He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there. 

“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”

“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.

Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!

“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”

Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”

“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.

“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.

Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”

“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”

Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.

A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.

“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.

“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x gn reader #it's finally here in full! #total wc is around 37.5k words #so the 1st part is around 16.5K~ words #and this part is around 20K-21k~ words respectfully #ngl i lost a bit more of my sanity writing this chapter #i was so naive when i called chapter 2 my longest post...

[misslovasstuff]

Op!men seeing you hurt

sanji x reader, zoro x reader

Sanji

The only occasion when he calls you by your name and not one of his words of endearment

With the speed of light, he rushes when he hears you’ve been shot in your leg.

He’s panicked but tries to keep his cool

“Show me please, - Sanji touches your thigh gently, touching the end of your dress to pull it up but you stop his hand. - Y/n?”

“I’m fine… it’s nothing.” - you claim, trying not to let your expression give away your pain.

Sanji stared at you, clenching his jaw as he shakes his head, anger building up. Who even dares to hurt you this way?

“Please, let me see. - he notices the worry on your face and tries to lighten up the situation. - What, are you shy? Love, it was only yesterday when you had my head pressed in between. Now…”

Your cheeks blush, looking away and getting somewhat a sense of relief seeing him smile, although you know deep down it was forced to reassure you.

Sanji raises your dress up, noticing your wound on your thigh. His eyes widen and he curses.

“Damnit!… - he caresses the unwounded area of your thigh as he looks at your eyes. - It must hurt a lot, right? Let’s take you to Chopper!”

Sanji picks you up and you put your hands around him, head resting on his chest.

“I’m really sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to be a bother for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. - he says sharply. - If you wanna feel sorry about something, feel sorry for the bastards that did this to you and that have to deal with me. I’m gonna give them ten times more of the pain you’re feeling now, love.”

“I am in no pain when I’m with you.” - your voice gentle and soft and words so genuine and selfless make Sanji feel even more at fault for letting you get hurt. But his heart starts beating faster and he can’t deny it as your hand rests on his chest.

“I won’t let you get hurt ever again. I promise.” - Sanji kisses your forehead, flames of anger extinguished by your gentle love only to burn brighter than ever after he leaves you at Chopper’s care, kissing the palm of your hand and finishing the business he has with the ignorants who dared to touch his woman.

Zoro

“Are you ok?! Oi, answer me!” - Zoro shakes your body, noticing a lack of reaction.

“…who did this… - he whispers, putting strands of hair behind your ear. - Please answer me, baby. Open your eyes… please…”

He’d never beg for anything, but now more than ever, Zoro felt most helpless. Hi strength could not help, nor his swordsmanship or any other asset he deemed as important.

He had his lover layed on the ground and hurt, and he wasn’t there to protect, to defend, to lay down his life for you.

“fucking hell… - he cusses, grip on his sword tightening. - … why didn’t you call for me?!”

Zoro takes your body, pulling you close to his embrace as his forehead meets yours.

“How can the world hurt such a soul like yours… tell me… open your eyes and scold me as always… please, love…” - his voice has a distinctive desperate tone, jaw clenched that relaxes when he feels his clothes pulled.

You reach your hand to the nape of his shirt, opening your eyes and giggling slightly at his widen gaze.

“You’re so silly, you know?” - and there, you scold him. But instead of having a counter argument, Zoro hugs you tightly, pecking your lips before asking many questions.

“Are you in much pain? Are you feeling fine? Which bastard did this to you, give me his name cause I swear to-

“Relax, - you breathe heavily but still manage to relax your fuming boyfriend. - the fight is over isn’t it? Let’s just go back to the sunny.”

Zoro sighs, scanning your face before saying:

“I could have not handled a second more in this world without you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

It’s true, although your vision a bit blurry, you can feel his voice shaking and his tight grip on your arms as he holds you, perhaps to convince himself that you’re here with him, and you’re alive.

“Then I’ll make sure to love you for a lifetime, Zoro.”

This man doesn’t usually shed tears but, his eyes get a bit watery as he presses his lips against yours, then shaking his head and sighing in relief.

“Ok enough kissing now, let’s get you treated.”

“You’re the one kissing me, idiot!”

#one piece #sanji #one piece sanji #op sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #sanji x reader #zoro roronoa #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #sanji headcanons #zoro headcanons

[daenysx]

this is like the summary of my morning- without the boys, sadly. i woke up really bad and writing this helped a lot, i hope you enjoy too! ♡

poly!marauders x fem!reader, mostly fluff - a little hurt/comfort maybe

an almost ruined morning

you wake up angry for no reason this morning.

maybe no reason isn't right; you're stressed because of your final week, mostly thanks to the high pressure you put on yourself and one of your closest friends cancelled your study date for today. you blink your eyes open with slight panic, irritation makes your stomach achy. there's also a headache that starts forming, a nice ribbon on top of your package of stress.

it must be raining out there, you hear the water drops hitting against the window. the boys are nowhere to be seen, they must've woken up earlier than you. you leave the empty bed with glossy eyes, almost tearing up for not waking up early enough to get some school work done. that wasn't what you planned last night.

"there she is." james sees you first. he opens his arms for you. "good morning, pretty girl."

"morning." you mumble, burying your face to his chest. he smells like aftershave and shower gel, slight coffee and a hint of cigarettes which you think he gets from kissing remus. he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight.

"are you okay?" he whispers to your ear. you're sure he gives a look behind you to remus, not understanding what happens.

"i was gonna wake up early to do my readings." you say against his chest.

he strokes your hair, feeling the uneasiness in your voice. "it's still early babe, you can start after breakfast, hmm?"

remus comes next to you, rubbing your back and giving you a kiss on your hair. "i thought you were gonna meet with shelby today for studying."

he came home late last night so he doesn't know you won't be seeing shelby. "she cancelled. said she has something came up." you murmur.

"yeah?" remus raises an eyebrow. "does that mean we get to spend time together?"

you nod into james's chest, discomfort creeps into your hands. shaky hands, pins and needles. you don't know why you're so nervous.

sirius comes into kitchen, hand in his hair to shape his wet curls up. he gives you a huge smile when he sees you. "good morning!" he says brightly. you immediately sense he's in the mood for a happy morning. you wish you could feel the same.

"morning, siri." you say, still leaning to james but your face is turned to the boys.

"what's wrong?" sirius asks. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"

"i don't know." you admit. "i woke up angry and sad, and i wanna study but i can't. i don't know."

you say the last part with a shaky voice and that makes boys frown. you bury yourself back to james's chest, embarrassed and silly, you don't feel like you can deal with this. you're being too extra and you just woke up.

"okay." james says. "it's fine, baby, it's normal. let's go lay on couch a bit, yeah?"

remus gives him an approving look. james leads you into living room, you lay down angrily. he takes the fluffiest blanket to cover your bodies. you can hear sirius drying his hair in the bathroom and remus starts the kettle for tea.

you are more than willing to stay against james, he's big and soft for you. with his muscular arms wrapped around you, you feel safe. hidden from everything, and it's nice. he kisses your forehead, his glasses are on the coffee table. he rubs your back with a huge hand. you breathe shakily, definitely unable to relax.

"sweetheart." he whispers. "we gotta relax a bit, okay?" he puts your head on his chest, right where his heart beats. "can you follow my breathing?"

you try to do as he says. your eyes are closed, your ear is pressed against your lover's heart. it's not so easy to do but you succeed after a long minute. "it's okay." he whispers, kissing your head. "relax, baby."

your head stops pounding after a while, that's good. you hear silent steps into the room, remus comes in with a steaming mug and a full plate. he puts them on the coffee table before coming to your side, his long fingers are gentle on your hair.

"feel any better?" he asks. you nod, looking at him from james's chest. he motions the table with his eyes. "do you want to have some breakfast? i got you your favorite."

"thank you." you say, eyes filled with tears suddenly. remus coos lovingly, he leans in to dry your tears. you can't handle them being so gentle with you, feeling like you ruined their morning. they still take care of you when you're being useless on the couch. "i'm sorry." you say.

"sorry for what?" sirius asks, joining you in the room. "you're too lovely to say sorry for anything, babe, please stop."

you cry for a few minutes, letting it out with gentle encouragements from boys. the stress of everything makes you lightheaded, you don't want to feel like this. you don't want to cry over academics anymore, you want to be a person who can adapt to quick changes when things don't go as planned. your tears wet james's shirt but he doesn't seem to care, his calm eyes following you. you get tired. you feel so tired.

you sit up, done with the crying. you rub your eyes, remus holds your both hands in his one hand as he uses the other one to dry your tears softly. he has a look of understanding on his face, you are grateful for the sentiment.

"can i have some tea?" you ask. sirius hands you the cup quickly, you take a few sips before looking at them. james wants to wipe the look of guilt off your face, he holds your hand.

"i'm sorry." you say. "i don't know what came over me."

"you have nothing to say sorry for." james says. "it's okay if you don't feel well, lovely."

"it's just-" you start. "i can't spend the time i think of doing things by actually doing them and- it stresses me out. like i'm always competing against time."

you take another sip from your tea. saying what upsets you out loud is a nice feeling, knowing they'll never judge you. they actually listen and understand, they will stay with you no matter what.

"you have 10 days until the finals, right?" remus asks.

you nod. "but i have to finish a paper before that."

"but still it means you have time." remus comes, sits on the empty spot on the couch. he cups your cheeks, his heart breaks at the sight of your tired eyes. "i think- we can spend today by resting and helping you get some sleep. you brain can't function properly if you don't take care of yourself, dove."

you nod. "okay."

"okay." he kisses your forehead. "good."

you finish your tea, and take a bite of the breakfast remus prepared for you. you don't feel like eating much but still force yourself to eat some of it. remus takes your empty cup to kitchen and james leaves to open the window in the bedroom now that the rain has stopped. fresh air will be nice.

"don't worry please." you say softly to sirius. he looks upset, nothing like his sparkly mood before. "i'm sorry i made you sad."

he can't resist it, takes you into his arms. you are more than happy to follow him, putting your head on the curve of his shoulder. he keeps you, smiles only a bit. "you have nothing to be sorry for. i just- i hate seeing you cry."

"i know."

"i wanna put a smile on your pretty face." he says, cupping your cheeks. "you're cute with the pout, but i'd prefer a smile."

you smile. a real smile, just what he deserves. you actually show him your teeth, he kisses you. "do you really think i'm cute?" you flirt, trying to get one more kiss from him. his kisses are healing.

"i think you're more than cute." he kisses your nose. "i can prove it."

"are you trying to make her faint, pads?" james asks, coming back to your side.

he might be right because sirius has always had this effect on you. you lose yourself when he kisses you, and it's good. it makes you forget your problems. he makes you feel brave, like you can achieve anything you want. he kisses you once more, your eyes are closed. james admires the sight.

"finally got a smile on her face, do you see that?" sirius says. "don't be jealous, prongs."

"i'm jealous." remus says, sitting on the other side of you. "i want a kiss."

he is teasing more than usual, to cheer you up. you give him a good kiss as he takes you to his lap. james sits on the empty spot you left, playing with sirius's hair. it's definitely how they flirt.

"maybe you should put a smile on my face too, huh?" james says to his boyfriend. "gorgeous."

sirius kisses him, his hand slipping into james's curls. they start talking after, a quiet chat about their games. everything goes back to normal now that you feel better. remus keeps you on his lap, though. you don't think he'll leave you for a while. he likes the reassurance of your wellness, he likes the quiet kisses you press on his neck when you wanna stop thinking. he likes how you play with his fingers.

remus brushes his lips to the side of your head. "better, lovely?"

you nod. it's not a lie, you feel better. sometimes it's good to cry about things, especially when you're treated like this by your boys. you just need some time to settle down, you think. remus's lap is the perfect place to think about things and then forget them, he rubs your back with occasional neck kisses and you fall asleep right there.

♡

(ps; the pics are from pinterest, they don't belong to me)

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders fic #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x you #remus lupin x you #sirius black x you #james x reader #sirius x reader #remus x reader #james x you #remus x you #sirius x you #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fic #james potter imagine #remus lupin imagine #sirius black imagine

[gay-dorito-dust]

How do you think the penacony guys + argenti would react to a reader who gets flustered super easily?

Aventurine loved the fact the he didn’t have to do much in order to make you flustered.

He could caress your cheek or kiss the back of your hand and wait for the precise moment where your eyes grew wide, breath hitched in your throat as your body went rigid.

‘Oh? Is someone perhaps a little flustered from such a simple gesture as me kissing the back of your hand?’ He’d ask teasingly as an amused smile grew across his face as his eyes memorised your every micro expression. When you didn’t respond but instead avert your eyes to try and avoid his gaze, aventurine got the response that he wanted.

‘You do don’t you!’ He cried as he got closer to you, putting a hand under your chin and moving pushing it upwards so that you were forced to look into his eyes. ‘Oh isn’t that precious,’ Aventurine coos as he somehow leant in even closer to you and whispered, ‘I’m sure with enough exposure we’ll be able to build up that endurance of yours. Okay sweetheart?’ He adds with mischief clear within his beautiful eyes.

He would make a game out of how many times he could get you flustered in under a single day.

Spoiler: He managed to make you flustered roughly 10-15 times and that was only during the day!

Aventurine has a way with words with his silver tongue and he would use it on you without a second thought until you were trying to hide yourself away in his side, clinging onto him for dear life as he only laughs and kisses the top of your head.

He’s never felt this deeply about someone before and your reactions to whenever he does express his affections only told him that you felt just as strongly towards him, and that was all he could ever need to reassure himself that his feelings towards you weren’t one sided and would treat you to whatever your heart desires.

Maybe even something that made you not so secretly match with him that he knows you won’t notice until later on?

Aventurine loves your easily flustered nature but he loved you even more. You getting flustered was merely a bonus for him that he’d take advantage of as long as you were okay with it.

Sunday grows somewhat addicted to the idea that it was his touch and his alone that had seemingly had you unraveling at the seems.

He could be grabbing a cup from the shelves to make himself a drink and places his hand on your hip as to keep you from moving as he reaches over you, smiling to himself as he heard you let out a small ‘eep’ and go rigid upon contact.

‘Are you alright my dear? You’re seemingly a little tense.’ Sunday asks as he moved his head so that his mouth was level with your earn, his observant eyes watching as the goosebumps arose and how your posture straightened almost immediately.

‘Yes! I’m fine!’ You’d exclaim and Sunday moved his hand away from your hip to your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as if he wasn’t the sole reason you were so skittish and unable to maintain eye contact.

‘No need to shout my dear, I’m right here.’ He’d say softly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before going about the rest of his day with the image of a flustered you to keep him in a relativity good mood.

Sunday adored your reactions to anything he did, whether big or small because it made him special, unique in your eyes that it feed into his delusion thst you were fated somewhere down the line and now you were together as promised by a higher power.

He’d start putting on your shoes for you and letting his hands linger on your legs and thighs for far longer then he should, or only let you tie his tie and revel in how flustered you get just from being in close proximity to him and silently watching on as you struggled to keep your hands steady as his musky scent invaded your senses.

Boothill adored seeing your face grow flustered and his cuteness aggression towards you would go through the roof.

He’d pinch your cheeks, you’d get flustered and try to push his hands away from your face.

He’d hug you from behind and laugh as you hurried your face into your hands to hide away how easily affected you were, but from feeling just how warm the tips of your ears were, Boothill had a vivid picture within his head about how the rest of your face looked behind your hands.

Back when you weren’t officially together Boothill even went as far as to puts his hat atop of your head, an act you weren’t all that familiar of the meaning behind, until someone brought up the fact that it meant he wanted to see more of you. Needless to say you used his hat to cover your face upon realising that the handsome cowboy you fancied was interested in you.

Even now Boothill would still puts his hat on your head and smile at how quickly it took for you to use it as a way to hide away your flustered face.

Would he playfully bite you just to what you squeak in shock and surprise? Yes, yes he would because you being flustered at anything and everything he threw at you only made Boothill’s cuteness aggression towards you worsen as you were just too darn cute for him to deny!

You were practically trapped within his arms from first thing in the morning until nightfall.

Argenti

‘Are you alright my beloved? You’re looking quite flustered, should we sit down?’

Sweet, sweet Argenti would grow excessively worried upon seeing you get worked up so easily over a small act of affection, thinking that me might’ve done something wrong and if you weren’t currently at a loss for words, you would’ve been able to calm him down and bring reason as to why that was.

All he wanted was to sing your praises and show just how amazing of a person you were to anyone who’d stop and listen, so much so that he forgot that his words held a lot more power than he thinks, seeing as how his affinity to effortlessly waxing poetry on the spot about you and your beauty had left you flustered to the high heaves and too meek to speak up on your own behalf.

‘Why do you hide away your beautiful face?’ Argenti wonders aloud as he watched you intently with kind, sweet eyes that drank you in your entirety. ‘Do you not think yourself the way that I do?’ He adds and once again you were left with a sudden inability to speak and a parched throat.

Argenti doesn’t mind you being flustered, he finds that it makes you even more beautiful in his eyes and would even praise you about your easily flustered nature, much to your dismay as this would only further send you over the edge.

He can’t help it! Everything you did was beautiful and unique to your character that he whenever he sees someone else do anything similar, his mind brings him back to you, his beloved because no one else can compare to you and you’re unique reactions towards certain aspects of life.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #Honkai star rail imagine #argenti x reader #Argenti imagine #Argenti imagines #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine imagine #aventurine imagines #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill imagine #boothill imagines

[uzurakis]

jjk men w gf who’s overly sensitive and they said something that hurt her feelings? ^___^

FALLING INTO ARGUMENTS?!

featuring: megumi fushiguro. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.

n. nonnie, allow me to spice your req a bit by make them getting into arguments which hurts your feelings in the process. sorry it took a longer time to write this cause i really don’t want to mess their characterization on this one t—t you also didn’t say i need to end it with comfort so…

GOJO SATORU.

the atmosphere was heavy with tension, as if every breath you took stirred up a storm of unresolved emotions. the soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, accentuating the lines of frustration etched into gojo satoru’s face. his piercing gaze fixed into yours, a silent challenge hanging between both like a veil of uncertainty.

as you stood before him, the weight of his dismissive words bore down on you like a crushing weight. it was as if every syllable was a dagger aimed straight at your heart, each one leaving a deep, painful wound that threatened.

you cried out, "i can help, satoru," your voice quivering with a mix of hurt and desperation. "please, just let me help you."

however, his reply felt akin to a blow to the face. "i don’t need your help, alright?" he yelled, his voice snapping like a whip. "i've got this covered myself.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, filling the space between you guys with a palpable sense of defeat.

you begged, your voice almost audible, "but satoru, we're supposed to be in this together. i thought you trusted me. isn't that what relationships are built out of?”. nevertheless, his expression remained impassive, a mask of indifference that hid the pain lurking beneath the surface. “trust has nothing to do with it," he replied, voice colder than you had ever heard it before. "i do better alone."

with those comments, the abyss between you and gojo deepened, threatening to swallow both whole. then as you turned to leave his room, the weight of his rejection settled like a stone in your gut, leaving only a hollow ache and the bitter taste of regret.

the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. every fiber of his being screamed for him to go after you, to swallow his pride and beg for your forgiveness, but something held him back, he didn’t want to pull you into his mess any further.

with a heavy sigh, gojo sank into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he let out a long, ragged breath. the weight of his actions settled on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with its suffocating embrace.

tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let himself break down in the face of his own weakness. he had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to handle any situation with ease and confidence, but now, in the aftermath of this argument, he felt more vulnerable than ever before.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

"are you okay, megumi?" you asked softly as you reached out to touch his shoulder.

his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a tense energy that crackled in the air, setting your nerves on edge as he flinched away from your touch, his expression hardening as he turned to face you.

he snapped, "i'm fine," in a tone that was unlike anything you had ever heard. "stop asking me that."

the words were like a slap to the face, leaving you feeling with hurt and confusion. all you had wanted was to help him, to ease the burden he carried on his shoulders, but instead, you found myself faced with a wall of anger and resentment.

you tried to protest whilst trembling with suppressed emotions. "you know you can always talk to me, right? you don't have to go through this alone." yet he shook his head, his eyes dark with pain as he pushed you away. "i said i'm fine!” insisted, tone slightly went higher. "just leave me alone."

the tears threatened to spill over, but you just held it down and bit your lips. with a heavy heart, you turned and left his room.

as the door closed behind you, megumi let out a frustrated growl, the sound muffled by the empty room. he cursed himself silently, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as the weight of his harsh words settled heavily on his shoulders.

"damn it," he muttered under his breath, very much thick with regret. "fuck you, fushiguro.”

the memory of your hurt expression haunted him, a reminder of the pain he had caused with his thoughtless words. he had never meant to hurt you, never intended to push you away, but in his fear and uncertainty, he had lashed out without thinking, building walls around himself to keep you out.

now, as he stood alone in the quiet solitude of his room, he realized the magnitude of his mistake. he had pushed away the one person who had always been there for him, the one person who had never given up on him, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions.

with a heavy sigh, the man sank onto his bed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the mess he had created. he knew that he needed to apologize, to make things right, but the thought of facing you again filled him with a sense of dread.

ITADORI YUUJI

under the soft glow of streetlights, yuuji and you found yourselves standing at the edge of a heated argument that threatened to consume the bond between you. the cool night air was heavy with tension, each word you and he exchanged hanging in the air like a cloud of unresolved emotions.

"i just wish you would trust me, yuuji." you said, sounding frustrated as you looked for any indication that he might understand.

however, he shook his head, his expression stubborn and closed off. "i do trust you, but this is different. i need to handle this on my own, babe.”

his remarks pierce deeply. it seemed that he was shutting you down even though all you wanted to do was to help him. you looked at yuuji and said, "i can't just watch you struggle."

"just, give me some time alone, okay?”

the hurt in his voice mirrored your own. as you watched him walk away, the sting of his words lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth. just as you turned to leave, you heard him call out your name, his voice filled with panic and regret. "wait! baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

you turned back to face him, the ache in your chest easing slightly at the sight of his vulnerability. in that moment, you understood that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared and uncertain as you were.

"it's okay, yuuji," you calmed him down, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "we'll figure this out together."

GETO SUGURU

you couldn't stand idly by as suguru pushed himself into further depression from time and time again, and tonight, you had finally reached your breaking point.

"suguru, you need to take better care of yourself," you begged, tinged with frustration and concern. "you can't keep treating yourself like this."

“is there really nothing i can do to help you?”

only he scoffed at your worries, waving off your concerns with a dismissive gesture, expression stubborn and unyielding. "i'm fine, babe.” with a deep sigh, geto suguru pointed out, "and what would you know about my problems, huh?" he reacted with resentment.

those words cut deep, leaving you mourning with hurt and disbelief.

"suguru..” you claimed, “do you really think i would just stand there as you destroy yourself? when you mean so much to me?”

his eyes softened at your words, a flicker of regret passing over his features before he shook his head, expression hardening as he turned away from you. "i don't need your help," he spat.

“i can take care of myself."

the finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing the last vestiges of hope that lingered in.

"fuck, i'm sorry," he murmured right before you decided to walk away. "i didn't mean to worry you."

“i, i just don’t know what to do with myself. shit, i’m so sorry.”

you turned back to face him, tears welling in your eyes as he crossed the room to pull you into a tight embrace. his familiar arms curled around you, providing comfort and warmth despite the tension. you could feel his heartbeat against yours, a rhythm that expressed both guilt and tenderness. at last, words were unnecessary as you allowed the quiet to envelope both, saying more than any apology could.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

#you can see me grinning so widely :D —> me rn #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #.writing #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk fushiguro #jjk x you #jjk gojo #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #jjk

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Bros, Bros, and more Bros

I made a mistake! My cousin told me about this fortune teller that cast a spell on him. Apparently, it made every man he ran into act like a fatherly figure in his life. I had an awesome dad, but I've always struggled to connect with guys my own age, so I tracked the witch down and begged her for another spell. She eventually came around, but the effects aren't quite what I expected...

"Sup, dude! Wanna skip and hit the park?"

My eyes stretch wide to take in the sight of my own father, carrying a skateboard over his shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's been acting like this for weeks; not washing his hair, barely even washing himself, and constantly wearing that stupid cap backwards. He's lost any sense of his old self!

"Dad, it's Monday. You've got work," I reply, not wanting him to piss his boss off.

"Work blows!" he sneers, "I hate wearing this stupid tie, and I'd rather hang with you, bro."

I sigh as my father tosses down his skateboard and extends a palm, pulling me into a cliche bro-hug where he claps me on the back. My dad used to give out hugs all the time, but it was never as performatively masculine as this. All this stupid curse did was turn my father into an 40 year-old frat guy.

"You're going to work," I say firmly, "And I'm going to school. We can play videogames or whatever when we get back later tonight."

"Bruuhhh!" he groans, "Fine. I'll catch you later, dude. There's pizza in the fridge if you want."

The idea of leftover pizza this early in the morning makes my stomach ache. My dad used to cook an entire meal every morning, complete with fruits and veggies. Now, he'd probably settle for a bag of chips.

The man leaves the skateboard behind and grabs his suit jacket, pulling it on with an attitude. He gives me one last head nod before bounding out of the house, hair flowing behind him. I imagine it's only a matter of time before my dad's boss is fed up with his new persona. I can't imagine a bro-personality is very conducive to getting work done in a corporate office. Hopefully, he'll mature soon.

With an empty stomach, I saunter out of the kitchen and walk to campus. I'm grateful to live close to the university. Hopefully, my curse won't get in the way of my day.

"Hey, how's my favorite student doing, bro?"

My professor yells and breaks into a goofy grin at the sight of me. I close the door to his office to give us a bit of privacy. Mr. Carlton only acts like this when I stop by, so his colleagues would be shocked to see such a drastic shift in his usually stoic personality.

"I'm good, Professor Carlton," I say, "I wanted to check on my grade for this course."

"No need to be so formal, dude," he smiles, clapping me on the back, "You can call me Daniel. Want a drink? I have some bourbon."

"I'm good. I really just-"

"Relax, bro," my professor says, shoving a glass in my hand, filled to the brim, "This is good stuff. I save it for special occasions, so sit down! Kick your shoes off! I don't care!"

The department head pulls off his suit jacket and leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and stretching his arms behind his head. I'd never seen the man act so unprofessional, but ever since the curse, he's started treating me like his closest buddy.

"Professor...sorry...Daniel, I just wanted to hear about my grade."

"I got you, bro!" he laughed, "Just keep doing what you're doing. I don't care if you don't show up!"

My shoulders relax. That's what I want to hear. It's not that I don't want to attend his lectures, but the last time I did, he started acting like a jackass in front of the entire class of 50 students. His presentation went from ancient monetary systems to ratings of best celebrity nip-slips. It's a miracle he didn't get fired!

"Ok, good. I have to go," I say checking the time, "And you have class in 20 minutes."

"Shit, I know," he groans and gulps down the rest of his booze, "Another day another dollar, I guess. When can we hang out, man? Tonight? I really wanna hang out with my guy."

"Nope, sorry!" I tense up and grab my backpack, "Good luck with the lecture."

"Right on, bro," he holds a sad hand up for a high-five, swallowing the rest of the drink he poured me.

I give my tipsy professor a halfhearted clap and scamper out of the office as quickly as possible. These interactions make me cringe so hard when a grown man acts young and cool for me. It's especially awkward to see such a respected individual sink to such a low level. What would we even do if he came over?

"Dude! Long time, no see!"

In the hallway, I run into the football coach and two of the team's best players. The three of them look like they're getting back from an early morning conditioning session. They're all sweaty, panting, and happy to see me.

"Oh, hey," I muster, feeling increasingly less cool around these jocks. I hate to admit it, but guys like this wouldn't give me the time of day before I got that bro-curse.

"Hey, man! You gotta come hang out with us," the brunette grins, "The team's still changing, but you're cool to come in the locker room!"

"Yeah, bro!" the blonde quickly adds, "We'd love to have you in there!"

My heart pounds faster and faster. This is why I've never been able to connect with guys my own age. I find myself boning up every time they look in my direction. Now that these two athletes are practically begging for me to join them in the locker room, my erection is bursting out of my pants!

"We can take care of that too," the coach suddenly mentions, pointing a finger at the tent I'm trying to hide in my crotch.

"What?" I stammer with a dry mouth.

"What do you think bros are for?" the coach continues, clapping his two players on the back, "My boys would be happy to help a brother out!"

The two football jocks nod. It feels like I'm dreaming, and I don't know what to do. Before I can decide, the two athletes have approached and grabbed me by the arm. Their grips are firm, and I realize I'm being escorted into the changing room whether I like it or not!

"Who's this guy?"

My stomach drops as I enter the locker room, finding an array of footballers in different states of dress. They all glance up at me with confusion, like I'm not supposed to be there, but then their faces soften. The gypsy's magic sets in, and they don't see a stranger when they look at me. They see their bro.

"Oh, it's you, bro," the same jock says, letting down his guard. I think I recognize him as the quarterback.

"Oh yeah, dude!" the massive lineman stands up and pulls me into a sweaty hug, "Glad you're here!"

"That's right guys," the brunette at my side says, still holding me tightly in place, "Our best bud is here, and he needs some attention."

My face flushes as I suddenly remember the problem poking out between my legs. By now, the entire football team is staring at it. If anything, it's only become more rock solid.

"Let me take care of that for you, bro," the quarterback says, grabbing my crotch without any hesitation.

"Move, I'll do it," says the lineman, pushing the quarterback out of the way and getting on his knees. He opens his mouth wide and-

"Shut up, all of you!" the coach suddenly roars! The locker room falls silent: these athletes are really well trained. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. Line up!"

"Yes, coach!"

The jocks back up and form a line in front of the lockers. Even the blonde and brunette that were holding me, release and join the rest of the team on the bench. Suddenly, I'm standing with the coach, looking at an entire team of well-disciplined football players. My throbbing erection is very apparent and pointing right at the small crowd of muscular men.

"Our bro deserves to be kept satisfied, right?" the coach slams a hand on my back.

"Yes, coach!" they shout back.

"So we don't just want to get our boy off once and move on, now do we?" he punctuates his question with another slap, this time lower on my back.

"No, coach!"

"We're going to set up a system for us to get him off whenever he needs it!"

"Yes, coach!"

The broad-shouldered and balding coach gives me one more slap, clapping me on the ass this time while staring into my eyes. "I'm gonna have my boys take turns sucking you off, bro. You just tell me which one's your favorite. Sound cool?"

I manage to mumble my assent, and with one look from coach, the quarterback is on his knees crawling towards my crotch. He pulls down my pants and unleashes my aching hard-on. "I got you, bro," he says, before putting his mouth to work.

After a few minutes, the coach pulls the jock off my pole and orders the linebacker to get busy. Before long, it's the brunette's turn, then the blonde's. I cycle through all 30 of the team's exceptional players, and I've gotten off more than just a few times. It's impossible to choose a favorite.

At the end of it all, the coach pushes the last player aside and says, "My turn, bro," before opening his mouth as wide as he can.

The entire football team watches as I spend the next 15 minutes just filling their coach's eager throat. When I'm finally done, I feel completely spent. I swap numbers with each jock and am repeatedly promised that they will be available whenever I call, but it isn't enough. They want to hang out with me now. They want to go out and party. I find it too difficult to say 'no' to a group of 30 eager athletes, so I let them sweep me up and take me to the nearest bar.

Needless to say, we end up causing a bit too rowdy of a scene.

"I got a complaint about a bunch of college idiots causing a ruckus. Would that be you?"

The officer was all business when he first walked in the bar. My football bros were dancing and yelling, barely even paying attention to the policeman scowling at the wild scene in front of him. He looked pissed, and his glare only softened when it found me.

"Woah, didn't know you were here, man," the cop says, cracking a slight grin on his hardened face.

"Well, I am!" I cry, feeling the effects of all the drinks my bros had been buying for me, "You should forget about work and party with us!"

"You got it, dude! Screw this badge!" the officer yells, pulling me into a tight embrace. I guess the bro-curse even works on law-enforcement!

Just like that, I'm dancing with a policeman in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn't have any moves, but he loosens up after we get some beer down his throat. The football team loves watching the cop party right alongside them. Apparently, this guy has broken up many of their parties in the past.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

The officer gulps down his seventh beer and slams the glass on the floor. It breaks, but the shattering is largely drowned out by the music. His onlookers go wild, but I can see the intoxication on his face. Beer is plastered around his mouth and dripping down his neck to soak into his uniform. I doubt this man has ever been this drunk in uniform before.

He stumbles over and throws a muscled arm over my shoulder, "Come here, bro. Let's do some shots or something!"

"I think it might be time to call it a night, officer," I yell in his ear.

"Oh, screw that!" he whines, "And don't call me officer! It's so formal!"

"Ok, what should I call you?"

"I dunno..." he mutters, "Buck! Call me Buck. That's what my wife calls me."

I roll my eyes at the mention of his wife. Of course this guy is taken. He's a complete stud of man. I've always liked a guy in uniform.

"How'd you like to come home with me tonight, Buck?" I ask sheepishly.

He lights up, "Bro, I thought you'd never ask!"

The cop grabs my arm with a wicked grin and stomps his way towards the door, dragging me along like I'm the prize he won at a fair. The players on the football team all stare at him with envy, mad that he's stealing their new best friend away for the night. I could see how badly each one of the jocks wished they were the one having a sleepover with me tonight.

"Hop in, I'll drive," officer Buck slurs his words and gestures to the police cruiser with his free hand.

"I think I'll handle the driving, if that's alright," I say, "Just hand over the keys."

"Anything for you, bro."

"Looks like someone got lucky!"

"Oh my God. Dad you're still up?"

"Bro, you said you'd play videogames tonight and then you never showed! What was I supposed to do?" he retorts, unbothered by the late hour or the cop hanging on my arm.

"You have to go to work in 4 hours!" I scream, "And you haven't even changed out of today's work clothes! What are you thinking?"

"Chill, bro," my dad says, turning to the drunk policeman holding my hand, "Take him to the bedroom and show him a good time. I'm sure you were going to, but the dude could use some extra help relaxing tonight."

The sound of my own father encouraging the man I brought home to 'show me a good time' makes me question everything again. My dad just witnessed his son bringing home a cop that's the same age as him. He doesn't even care! I want to tell him to grow up and be the man I used to know, but Buck is already jerking on my arm.

"Let's go, bro," he mumbles lowly, using his strong arms to drag me into the bedroom.

"Enjoy your new cop friend, bro!" my father calls and I hear the sounds of his videogames start back up.

I barely have time to worry about any of it. Has this curse gone too far? Will my dad make it to work tomorrow? Does Buck have a wife I need to worry about!?

It all goes away when I'm thrown on the bed. The intoxicated officer flips the lights down low, and stumbles in front of me. He may be drunk, but he is certainly not a disappointment. The cop stares down at me as he rips his state-issued hat off and unbuttons his dark uniform shirt, all the while moving his hips to the beat of gunfire from dad's videogame in the living room.

With his hairy chest exposed, he crawls on top of me and whispers in my ear, "Where do you want me to start? Us bros gotta look out for each other, don't we?"

#gay bros #male transformation #hypno story #gay ai art #gay hypnosis #gay mind control

[permanentswaps]

Building Each Other Up

I've been training Shane for years now. When he first started coming to the gym, he was just a scrawny kid fresh out of college, looking to put on some muscles so that he could impress the ladies.

I remember the first time we met. I saw him struggling with the barbell, his form all over the place, and honestly, it looked like he was going to throw his back out any minute. Being the seasoned gym-goer that I am, I couldn't just stand by and watch. So, I offered to help him out. After all, I'd been working out for years and liked to think I was in pretty good shape.

The gym had always been more than just a place to let off steam and bulk up —it was a sanctuary. As a closeted single guy in his mid-thirties, the gym was a place where I could discreetly check out guys, maybe even meet the occasional DL hookup without fear of judgment or exposure.

But then Shane came along, and everything changed. We started out as just friends, bonding over working towards our mutual goals in the gym. But as I trained him, helping him sculpt his body, our friendship deepened. He looked up to me, admired my dedication and expertise, and in turn, I found a sense of purpose and fulfillment in helping him reach his goals.

Over the years, Shane and I grew closer. We shared more than just sets and reps; we shared our hopes, fears, and dreams. And amidst all the sweat and strain, I found myself opening up to him in ways I never thought possible. I confided in him about my sexuality, my struggles with self-acceptance, and the challenges of living a double life. And to my relief and gratitude, Shane was always there for me, offering support, understanding, and a listening ear. It was truly the best friendship I’ve ever had.

Our unique bond didn't just stem from the amount of time we spent together at the gym; it was also fueled by our unorthodox training style. You see, we had a secret potion, which I had first discovered when I was Shane’s age.

To everyone else in the gym, it just looked like your typical pre-workout supplement. But for Shane and me, it was so much more. This potion had a remarkable ability—it allowed Shane to jump into my body.

When Shane would make the jump, I would become powerless, a spectator in my own body. He was in total control, and only he could decide when to jump back out. But the benefits were undeniable. Not only would he gain the muscle memory from the workout, but he would also inherit any gains my body had achieved from the session. And since I was already pretty muscular, Shane progressed rapidly.

Sometimes, during our training sessions, I would willingly let consciousness take a nap. I trusted Shane fully, so what did it matter if I checked out for a little while? Usually, Shane would jump out after he had showered and changed for me, and we’d go about the rest of our days. But there were occasions when I would wake up the next day, only to realize that he had remained in my body longer than expected. It was a strange sensation, waking up on those days, but I trusted Shane to do what was best for both of us so it was fine by me.

While our training sessions primarily took place in the gym, there were a few instances where I allowed Shane to use my body for purposes other than working out. I remember a couple of occasions when he wanted to pick up girls at the local bar. It was a bit weird for me, considering I was into guys, but I was happy to let him have a good time. Besides, there was a thrill in experiencing what my life could have been like had I been straight, feeling my body react with excitement at the prospect of engaging in intimate relations with a woman.

But it wasn’t long before Shane's dedication paid off, and his body became super ripped. He didn't need to rely on using my body to pick up girls anymore—he had the confidence and physique to do it all on his own. And even though he started to get a bit cocky at times, I was there to keep his ego in check.

It was around that time that we stopped using the potion and went back to being normal gym partners, pushing each other to get better. It hurts my ego to say now, but I think his physique is better now than mine ever was. Which is why Shane’s recent proposition really surprised me.

---

For the past few months, Shane had been pouring his heart and soul into training for a bodybuilding competition. Despite his relentless efforts, it seemed like he was still struggling a bit to reach his peak performance.

"Hey,” Shane said as we walked into the gym for our usual session. “So I'm struggling to get in as much training as I want to, and I could really use your help.”

"Sure, what do you need?" I replied, genuinely curious about his proposal.

"I was thinking we could use the potion again," Shane began, his words hanging in the air. "But this time... you could take over me."

My heart stopped at his suggestion. In all my years of using the potion, I had never actually took over someone else's body. I had always been too nervous to entertain the thought. What if I got excited by a guy and it outed me to whoever I had taken over? And besides, none of my friends were really any better looking than I was, so why would I want that?

But this was something different entirely. I trusted Shane fully, and I didn't really have to worry about those concerns with him. Plus, the idea of experiencing the world through Shane's eyes and getting to be in his body for a change seemed oddly appealing. And it did seem only fair since he had spent so much time in mine.

"Okay, sure," I said tentatively, my mind racing with possibilities. "What did you have in mind?"

---

Shane came up with a plan where we would alternate control, with me spending two days in his body followed by three out. He believed that this schedule would give him the mental rest he needed to train as intensely as he was hoping—or at least, that's what he said.

For our first session, I phased right into his body in a private corner of the locker room. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I was overcome with a rush of unfamiliar sensations. Like I said, I had never actually been in another body before, and this wasn’t just any body.

Sure, I had muscles when I was his age, but they weren't nearly as defined or toned as Shane's. And I certainly never had this much energy, or this attractive of a face. I mean, I know I'm considered handsome now, but it took a lot of time (and a bit of plastic surgery, if I'm being honest) to get it that way.

I spent the next two days absolutely grinding, hitting double sessions in the gym both days, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from myself in the mirror. My chest and shoulders were absolutely massive now, each muscle defined and sculpted to perfection. It felt incredible, like I was invincible.

At the end of those two days, Shane was super thankful and went back to training himself. But as those next three days in my own body passed by, I found myself constantly thinking about Shane, yearning to feel that rush of power and confidence again. Soon enough, I did.

With the competition looming only a few months away, we stuck to our schedule, which started fine-tuning Shane's physique to perfection one intense training session at a time. And just like in the old days—but this time with the roles reversed—I used Shane's body for hook ups when I was in control. It was refreshing to have this much energy in bed, to feel the strength and vitality pulsating through every muscle. And with Shane's youthful appearance, I found myself attracting a whole new demographic of guys. No longer was I an older daddy, the guys I pulled just saw me for the hot young stud I was.

As the competition drew nearer, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in how far we had come.

But still, Shane still seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by the pressure. Despite our intense training regimen, he couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty and self-doubt. To help him out, we decided to up my stay in his body. What started as two days gradually turned into three, then four day stints, and eventually, I found myself spending an entire week inhabiting Shane's body.

He was thankful for the dedication and hard work I was putting in, and I could see the relief in his eyes every time I got out. But as the days passed, I found myself slowly becoming addicted to Shane's physique and his youth. There was something intoxicating about being in a body that radiated strength and vitality.

Things went awry, though, when I stayed for 11 days straight. I could sense that Shane was starting to get annoyed, his frustration simmering for at least a few days. Then, it reached a breaking point.

I could hear Shane's voice in my head, telling me to get out, to give him back control of his own body. But I ignored it. You see, my most recent booty call had been out of town, and I was itching to see him again. I knew he would be back tomorrow, and I just needed to hold out until then. I needed to pound his tight hole, I just couldn't think about anything else. I mean just look at this sexy video he just sent, can you blame me?

So kept brushing off Shane's protests, telling him, "No, no, just a bit longer. I promise."

Then, things went a bit sideways.

"Mark, seriously, get out of my head!" Shane's voice echoed loudly in my mind, his anger palpable.

"Just a little longer, Shane. I promise," I replied, trying to placate him.

"You've been saying that for days! I need my body back, man," Shane insisted, his tone bordering on desperation.

"I just... I have plans, Shane. Give me until tomorrow, okay?" I pleaded, my own desperation seeping into my voice.

But Shane wasn't having it. "No more excuses, Mark. Get out now!”

He started to fight back, trying to push me out of his mind. Despite having no physical control, his willpower was strong, and it had been quite a while since I'd entered his body. Who knew if it was possible for him to force me out?

But I couldn't afford to entertain those thoughts. Besides, Shane sounded annoyed, and I didn't know if he'd let me back in after that. So, I stubbornly held on, determined to see things through to the end, consequences be damned.

I fought back, pushing against Shane's consciousness with all my might. Our mental energies clashed, swirling around each other in a chaotic dance. Shane was strong, no doubt about it, but from all my years of using the potion, I was just ever so slightly more experienced in this realm.

I could feel him teetering on the edge of some sort of mental cliff, his resistance wavering. And then, seizing the opportunity, I gave him one final push. Suddenly, I felt my body convulse. I watched in astonishment as my old body, presumably with Shane inside, fell out of my hunky young body and stumble backward across the room before falling down.

As he looked at me, confusion clouding his face, I couldn't help but say, "Well this is new."

To Be Continued ...

[save-the-villainous-cat]

may I request a really really really smart villain. but somehow the hero manages to outsmart them, and even though villain is completely dumbfounded, they find it incredibly hot???

gl, if you wish, but im fine with anything !!

“You’re scared,” the villain whispered. “I know what that feels like. I know what it can do to a person.”

Their fingertips traced the hero’s clavicle gently, as if they attempted to calm a startled deer by stoking it.

“It’s not a pleasant emotion. It certainly isn’t one anyone should be used to. So I’m curious, do you need my help?” the villain said. Their eyes scanned the hero curiously. Almost as if they could absorb everything about them just by looking at them.

Something about the hero seemed to pull them in, something seemed to fascinate them on a grand scale and the hero couldn’t tell if they loved the challenge or the attention.

“Would you mind?” the hero asked. They nodded towards the villain’s fingers on their body and clearly, the villain received their message. They pulled away and smiled. Curiosity seemed to be their big weakness.

“I apologise, of course. I’m fond of pretty things.”

“As every crow is.”

“That’s a compliment.” The hero didn’t answer. They knew the villain was toying with them; they were fully aware of their sweet words and their kind smile.

The villain wasn’t easy to understand and that was a big problem in this whole mess. Incompetent people proposed a threat to the city because of their lack of intelligence. They weren’t easy to understand, they were unpredictable.

Usually, the hero could argue with smart people, could get into their minds and understand their motives but the villain was a complete minefield. Their unpredictability came from several unrelated plans that intertwined and altogether made up a whole picture.

They were ten steps ahead. Always.

Suddenly, a missing professor, a burning bakery, a sick child and a stolen book were parts of a chain that would make sense to the hero much, much later. Ordinary things could play huge parts in these reaction chains, something they liked to call “controlled butterfly effect”. It made the hero think of all the details, all the little crimes in the city. It made them overanalyse every little conversation they had with the villain.

Was the villain giving them clues?

Was there a way to decipher these riddles?

How could anyone be at ten different places at the same time?

How was it possible to get information you’d have to torture out of people without actually talking to anyone at all?

“I’ll have to change my address for the third time this month,” the hero said. “You should apologise for that as well.”

“It’s not my fault you make it so easy for me.” The villain looked around the hero’s living room and in some weird and strange way, the hero felt superior to them, now that everything was done. It would’ve been foolish to say they were relieved. In fact, the villain was right. They were terrified. “New choice of plants, I see. You like orchids?”

“Why exactly are you here?” the hero asked. They assumed the villain knew about yesterday. They also assumed the villain was here to talk about that. “So you can make fun of me? Humiliate me in my own home?”

“Without an audience? Please, I thought you knew me.” The villain’s eyes found the hero’s again after what they deemed to be enough observation.

“You like it more intimate. You like it when it’s just us.” Now, the villain looked intrigued.

“Touché,” they said, almost as if the hero had defeated them with a single word. The hero wished it had been that easy.

“Again. Why are you here?” The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest. It was getting quite chilly in just a shirt and underwear.

In response, the villain took in a deep breath and sat down on the hero’s couch. They lounged.

“When Hannibal crossed the Alps, do you think he was scared? I mean, all that responsibility on his shoulders? It was dangerous, he could’ve lost his entire army.”

“Is this supposed to be some metaphor for me being Hannibal and you being…what? The Roman Republic?” the hero asked. Sometimes, it was laughable where the villain’s mind went. It was hard enough to keep up with them already but the amount of knowledge the hero acquired from talking to them alone was insane.

It was the type of learning experience that required failing repeatedly to get to the answer. The hero didn’t enjoy it.

But the villain only chuckled.

“I was trying to say that being determined and scared can coexist. You did something that demands great courage.” They tilted their head. “And yet, it is a very scary thing.”

With slow steps, the hero approached them until they were close enough. They sat down on the villain’s lap. Unsurprisingly, their nemesis didn’t protest.

They weren’t proud of what had happened, they weren’t proud of what they’d done.

“How can a person obtain information no one dares to whisper?” the hero asked. “How can that person receive it within seconds?”

“You tell me,” the villain said. An invitation. It would’ve been illogical to decline.

“You had two helpers. Someone who can teleport. Someone who can turn invisible. I don’t know how you convinced them but they were heroes once.”

The villain nodded.

“The Romans had to learn the hard way how important spies are. They learnt it from the Carthaginian. Like I learnt from you years ago,” the villain said. It was difficult to imagine that all this was the hero’s fault. “Now, tell me what you did when you found out.”

The hero was quiet until the villain’s palm brushed their thigh softly. The villain seemed unfittingly euphoric.

“I knew they wouldn’t be easy to keep in a cell.”

“So?”

“So I killed them.” The villain nodded.

“You killed them,” the villain agreed. “Did you know crows wait for other predators to tear open their prey?”

The hero waited. The villain wasn’t angry. They were fascinated. It hadn’t even occurred to the hero that this was the solution up until yesterday.

And still, even though this was a major success when it came to stopping the villain, it wasn’t satisfactory. Killing two of their own people hadn’t been pretty.

“Did you know curiosity killed the cat?” the hero asked back. Behind their back, they clenched their fist to stop their hand from shaking.

Within seconds, several red laser dots pointed at the villain. With the hero on their lap, pressing them into the couch, there wasn’t anywhere to go. The sharpshooters wouldn’t let the villain move a muscle.

And behind the shocked expression, the hero saw something they weren’t sure if they loathed or liked: a certain admiration for only them.

#villain it’s a trap u stupid ahh #I am behind you I always find you I am the tiger #somehow completely managed to ignore the dumbfounded part I AM SO SORRY #I’m not even close to being able to write smart characters but I hope this is ok 👹 #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[sainns]

DROP THE ALBUM!ㅤ⊹ㅤPSH SMAU

PROLOGUE the breakup and afterwards

note i lied this did not come out at 330 im impatient and uhh he kinda did u dirty i apologize but yn is maybe a little dramatic IDK

“i think we should break up, yn,”

you blink, lifting your head up from where it was resting on his chest. your sudden movement knocks the laptop off of sunghoon’s lap, the movie you were watching continuing to play in the background as you stare at him.

“what? wait—are you serious?”

he sighs, running a hair through his messy hair, “yeah, i am,”

“that’s so random. we’re literally cuddling in your bed right now, sunghoon,”

you shouldn’t be getting angry with him, if he wants to break up then he’s allowed to—even if it hurts you more than anything. it just doesn’t make any sense as to why he wants to.

you can’t wrap your head around it, as far you know—or knew—you were perfectly fine. you’ve been together for three years, so obviously you’ve fought but it’s not like they were big fights. everything in your relationship was good. at least you thought it was, sunghoon didn’t apparently.

“i don’t know... i was just thinking, you know?”

you stare at him blankly because no, you didn’t know. you don’t get what’s going on at all.

you can see discomfort makes its way onto sunghoon’s face, his hand coming up to rub his neck awkwardly, “we should take a break,”

“a break or break up?” you ask, “they’re different things,”

you fully move away from him, pulling your legs from out of the covers, sitting as far away from him as you can. you stare at the floor as you wait for his response. he’s silent for too long and you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.

“break up, i guess. we can still be friends, though,” he reaches forward to grab your hand but you pull away, “i don’t want to lose you, yn,”

there’s a lot of things you want to say to say to him; that you can’t be friends, that he’s stupid for thinking that you would be fine with it. you want to tell him that you’re mad at him beyond belief for doing this out of nowhere. he could’ve at least broken up with you when you weren’t laying in his bed. 

you don’t say any of these things, though. instead you nod, giving him a forced smile, “okay. if that’s what you want,”

“i’m really—”

you interrupt him before he can give you that dreaded apology, “i’m gonna go, i probably shouldn’t stay the night like we planned,”

you crawl out of bed, your feet landing on his carpeted floor. your back is to him and you hope and pray that he can’t hear the sharp breath slip from your mouth, keeping yourself from bursting out sobbing. you blink quickly, forcing your tears away and move around his room to grab your things.

“you don’t have to leave, it’s late,”

“it’s fine, hoon,” it’s not fine, “night,”

“okay.. text me when you get home?”

“yeah, sure.”

sunghoon is an idiot.

he's an idiot that you’re still friends with.

it’s been five months since the breakup and you’re still friends. you don’t want to be friends, but your desire to keep him in your life overpowers that. giselle and winter have both been telling you to move on, to cut him out of your life.

every single one of your friends can see how awful this is for you, especially with sunghoon still acting like he’s your boyfriend. it’s like nothing has changed between you two if you ignore the fact that you aren’t officially together anymore.

he even goes as far as to tell you about girls that he finds attractive. does he not know not to tell you stuff like? he doesn’t. he doesn’t get how horrible and heartbreaking it is for you to hear. having to sit there and hear him call other girls pretty is worse than anything you’ve ever had to experience, you think.

so after urging from both giselle and winter, you ghost him on the sixth month after your breakup. you don’t go to any of your previously planned hangouts (you give him some half-assed excuse about being ‘too busy’ when really you were just staying home and eating ice cream), you stop responding to his messages and eventually he stops sending them.

and you write about it.

you’ve written songs about him before, as embarrassing as it is to admit, but it’s how you express your feelings. the only difference is that they were love songs; songs about you pining over the boy, how you felt during your relationship, all of the good things about him. you’ve never written anything bad, not even during your first big argument.

you admittedly feel better after you’ve written everything down, but you also feel.. guilty. it’s like you’re making it a bigger deal than it is. it’s not like he cheated on you or neglected you or whatever other awful thing other songwriters have written about. he just broke up with you and tried to stay friends.

you eventually get over that guilt, thankfully. you know that you’re allowed to be upset and it’s not like he’s ever going to hear it. you’re sure he’s forgotten all about you already. maybe he even has a new girlfriend.

you try not to throw up at that thought.

you end up making a demo, send it to your agency, and it gets produced. after a month of promotion and teasers, it releases on the ninth of april. exactly one year after your break up. it blows up, much to your surprise—you weren’t necessarily a big artist but you weren’t super small, having around 840k monthly listeners but you weren’t expecting to make the billboard hot 100.

honestly, you should’ve expected sunghoon to find out about the song, but you weren’t. and needless to say, you were absolutely horrified when he sent you a message for the first time in half a year.

ㅤ ㅤ PREVIOUS ㅤ MASTERLIST ㅤ NEXT

#ㅤ⠀ ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა ♡ ㅤ⠀ #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smau #sunghoon smau #sunghoon fluff #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #enha x reader #enha x you #enha x y/n #enha fluff #enhypen fake texts #enha fake texts #enhypen texts #sunghoon fake texts #sunghoon texts #enha smau #enhypen social media au #sunghoon social media au #park sunghoon social media au

[correctopinionhaver]

"i just don't think i can bring a child into this world" said person in a developed country whose child would have a greater life expectancy and more resources than 99% of humans throughout history

#kids #if you dont want kids thats fine but this argument really doesnt make sense and yes im taking climate change and AI into account #top

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Aventurine hc's

At first he hates the realization he's actually falling for someone

It eats away at him every second, this reminder that he's not, and likely never will be, in a great position to just have a normal life...

He's a pawn, always has been, so why would he put someone else through that?

Especially you...

But God if it isn't impossible not to love, to keep his fluttering heart from hoping, yearning for just your warm touch

Just the sight of you is enough, he decides to himself, as if that makes any difference in the end

It's obvious he dotes on you, his teasing remarks and genuine smiles are impossible to miss...

He follows you around in his free time, happily inserting him with a smug little grin, as if it's completely normal to have a IPC executive tailing you constantly

You're entertaining, or that's his excuse

He has to keep you safe, it's not like he trusts any of these other idiots to do it, and getting to watch you huff at him paying for everything is only a bonus

In that stage he enjoys being subtly possessive

You're not his, sure, but seeing you in his hat and sunglasses, or maybe with one of his cute little calling card chips fastened into a necklace, constantly on you...

His arm around your shoulder is enough to denture most people immediately, definitely not looking to get into a scuff with the "loose cannon of a gambler" he's generally seen as

When you're finally together he's not keen on taking his hands off you

Whether it's a light arms around your waist, just securing his spot by your side with an occasional squeeze, or his hand grabbing desperately at your hair as he focuses on pressing a kiss to every inch of your face with steadfast resolve

His favorite thing is just resting his chin on your shoulder, his pretty eyes staring up at yours endlessly

It's the perfect position, of course, arms around you with easy access to your neck, and it usually ends with your face hot to the touch by his intimate little kisses pressed so lovingly to your skin

He does have an appearance to maintain, so self care days where he paints your nails, washes your hair in a joint shower or bath, and drags you out to buy expensive clothes are must

Money is meant to be gambled or spent, it's not for hoarding, and that's abundant obvious by how he throws it around

It's another form of possession, really, seeing you decked out in what he's bought you, it gives him a sense of pride

It's hard for him not to project his childhood fears onto you, too

Like if he notices you're not eating, not drinking enough, brushing off a small injuries

He's seen plenty of people die to all those, and fighting down those blaring alarm bells can be difficult at the best of times

You'll often find a glass of water and small snack with a cute little note when you wake up, if he can't be there himself to make sure your needs are met, and he's expecting a text as soon as you're up to confirm you're fine

Anytime without contact for too long will consume him, gnawing at his insides, eating him slowly until he sees you again

He hates it, it's such a painful disadvantage in his line of work, but god if he can't help it...

He's very quick to scoop you up and pepper kisses to your pulse points immediately after, nuzzling against the physical feeling of your heartbeat and your warmth

He also can't help shaking off the mindset that he's merely a chip, to be used when  useful and discarded after

He knows that's not the case with you, knows it... But it's impossible to not feel a bolt of pure fear when you're unhappy with him, as if his worth is tied to his ability to be perfect for you

Pet names are obviously a must, and you might start to joke he doesn't actually know your real name with how rarely he uses it

You're his "darling love", his "perfect match", and, of course, his "adorable sweetheart"

He'll pout a bit if you don't reciprocate the absurd level of endearments on your end too

He probably won't even respond to "Aventurine" after a while, pretending not to hear you with an unmistakable smile, until you properly address him

He's left wondering how he's ever lived without you, and if he ever could again

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #my hcs #i love him your honor #i could write a literal book on hcs for him

[pandoraslxna]

hi luna, i found ur fics on ao3 and ran my ass to tumblr bc i just needed more of ur writing. you're so talented!!

i was wondering if you could write a lo'ak x reader story similar to the step bro!teyam fic where he makes contact with the sex pollen. it could be step bro!lo'ak or just reader's bsf idm bc i've been thinking abt that fic for agessss and i'd die for a lo'ak version even where reader is the one that touches the pollen instead 😭🫶 pretty pls and thanks in advance （╹◡╹）♡

Forbidden desires

adult Stepbro!Lo‘ak x female omatikaya reader

Words: 3.8k

Summary: Nine times out of ten, when you were sent to one of those old, abandoned RDA outpost facilities, it went just fine. But there's always that tenth time.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (they’re not blood related), sex pollen, cowgirl position, creampie, teasing, praise

Nine times out of ten, when you were sent to one of those old, abandoned RDA outpost facilities, it went just fine. But there's always that tenth time. And of course it’s when your accompanied by your older stepbrother, who somehow seemed to magically attract any kind of danger ever since he was a kid.

Scavenging abandoned laboratories for essential supplies that the clan could use was usually safer than it sounded, but this place, it was far off your usual research zone and Jake- dad, he said you could call him dad. Well dad said, it would be better to not go alone this time, just in case.

The once bustling scientific havens now stands as a relict of the past, slowly succumbing to the relentless embrace of nature. The laboratory emerges from the foliage, structure weathered and worn by time. Moss and ivy clings to the cracked walls, intertwining with rusted metal equipment. Vines creep through broken windows and shattered glass, casting intricate patterns of sunlight onto the decaying floors.

This place smells sharp, metallic, so much like tawtutes [humans] and the rotting smell of death and burnt earth they leave behind. Not exactly a pleasant scent.

Inside, a sense of eerie tranquility fills the air. Dust particles dance in the faint beams of light that manage to pierce through the overgrown canopy. Dilapidated shelves line the walls, remnants of long-forgotten experiments, holding faded vials and forgotten notes.

Lab benches, once polished and pristine, now bear the scars of abandonment papers lay strewn across the floor, their text faded and illegible. The hum of electricity has long been silenced, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the fluttering wings of Riti [Stingbats] that were abruptly woken by the two na‘vi entering the long forgotten building.

Amongst the ruins, you search meticulously, your eyes scanning for useful remnants. You carefully examine cabinets, hoping to uncover unused medicine, bandages, exo packs that are still intact or any other useful tools.

Your stepbrother however, seemed to have other plans in mind.

"You shouldn’t touch that", you said, snatching his wrist mid way of him prodding at what you hoped was a fake skeleton. Lo‘ak let out a chuckle as he gazed down at you, both of his brows raised in amusement as he wriggled his hand free of your hold.

"Relax, tsmuke [sister]. Are you always this uptight when going on your little adventures?"

"I‘m not uptight, Lo‘ak. I‘m being careful", you said, shaking your head. "Jak– Dad taught me to be. You never know what the vrrteps [demons] could possibly be hiding here. And this isn’t an adventure, we‘re here to get supplies!"

"Right, of course. We‘re on a very important mission here", Lo’ak scoffs sarcastically, then proceeds to yank at the skeletons arm and point it in your direction, poking your hip with the boney finger when you roll your eyes at him. "You think they have traps set here to capture cute na‘vi girls? Ohh, isn’t that scary?"

"You’re an idiot", you giggle, swatting the hand away and playfully slapping your stepbrothers arm.

You both then take the steps up to the second floor of the building, and when you round a corner, you stop dead in your tracks. There was a "DO NOT ENTER" sign taped to the door that was slowly starting to peel off.

Experiments on animals or even na‘vi weren’t really uncommon, and you knew the horrors that the RDA was capable of, had heard and seen it yourself, especially in those research laboratories. Which is why you weren’t sure if whatever awaited behind this door was worth the few extra exo packs and bandages.

"We shouldn’t–"

"Oh, yes we should", Lo‘ak is quick to cut you off, all too eager to push the heavy metal door open. A rush of stale air fills your nostrils and you grimace at the smell.

"I should’ve just asked Neteyam to come with me", you mumble under your breath, closely following Lo‘ak into the room, who had a wide, excited grin on his face.

"And miss out on all the real fun?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "Yeah, you two would clearly make the better duo."

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help the feeling of unease that grew inside you, your eyes darting around the room, while your stepbrother's curiosity only intensified. Ignoring your trepidation, Lo‘ak stepped forward, drawn to a large, dusty table at the center of the room.

Among the scattered papers and broken equipment laid a few conical flasks, some of them still filled with droplets of a strange liquid.

Turning on your heals you took a quick 360°-spin. The room was small enough to get an overall view in less than a few seconds. There was nothing but this table and broken laboratory equipment. Nothing that seemed to be of worth for the clan, so you glanced back over your shoulder, already heading back to the door as you pleaded, "Lo‘ak, come on. There’s nothing in here, let’s just go back."

Lo’ak however, couldn't resist the temptation to tease you, playfully waving one of the glasses around. "Killjoy", he mutters under his breath, before shouting, "Here, catch", and throwing the conical flask in your direction. You shriek as you jump around to try and catch the glass in time, but it slips right past your fingers.

You both watch it fall like it’s happening in slow motion, until it bursts on the floor and the glass shatters in thousand little pieces.

As soon as the liquid inside makes contact with the tiled floor, it morphs into a small cloud of steam that smells awfully sweet and you end up coughing a few times before sending a glare in Lo‘aks direction. Sucking in a sharp breath, he makes an apologetic face and rushes to your side, careful not to step in any of the glass shards. "Shit, sorry! I‘m so sorry, are you hurt?"

"No, skxawng [moron]. I‘m fine", you clear your throat, "Great mother, you’re acting like such a child sometimes…"

"Yeah, I hear that a lot", he grins and you can’t help but smile at the coy flick of his tail. "C‘mere, can’t let you get hurt or dad will skin me", he murmurs, pointing at the glass, before scooping you into his arms and carrying you out of the room.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and tickles Lo‘aks neck as you rest your chin on his shoulder. Your heart was still pounding from the scare, harder than you would like to admit. Nuzzling closer to his neck, you allowed your eyes to rest for a moment, just breathing in the natural, soothing scent of his skin, while he carried you downstairs. He smells so much like cedarwood, leather and freshly cut grass, you notice. And something else that you can’t quite put a name on, but it tingles your nostrils and makes goosebumps raise on the nape of your neck.

"You smell good", you mumble the words before you can throughly think them through, while pressing your nose against his throat. Your lips graze his skin and you can feel his upper body stiffen at that. "Was that a weird thing to say?" You ask calmly, almost a little too calm.

There’s a moment of silence before Lo‘ak shakes his head and murmurs a quick, "no."

Back at the main entrance, he gives a light squeeze to your hips, signaling you that he would let you down to your feet now, but your arms wrap around his neck tightly. He just smells so good, you want to stay here for a while longer. Lo‘ak is strong, you know he could effortlessly carry you all day.

"Can you hold me for a while longer?" Your own voice seems so far gone, so far away, you don’t even hear yourself properly, don’t even realize you’re speaking at all. Your skin tingles where Lo‘ak has his arms wrapped around you, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm, pressing yourself closer against him.

"Tanhì [little star], are you… are you okay?"

"Hmh", you hum, crossing your ankles behind his back like a Syaksyuk [prolemuris] clinging to it‘s mother.

"Are you sure?" There’s genuine concern in his voice, one of his hands running up your back, feeling your temperature at the nape of your neck. "You’re kind of burning up a little."

Your response almost sounds like a drunken mumble, "hmm strange. My heart‘s beating pretty fast too." It’s followed by a little giggle, and Lo‘ak frowns.

He‘s not panicking, not yet, but he knows something is wrong. This was really, really not normal behavior for you. He feels your face entirely too close to his pulse point, can feel your nose nuzzling against him, your lips brushing his throat. It’s not a kiss, he tries to make himself believe.

You’re not kissing up and down his throat. You’re not, because that would be wrong. Why would you— and then he feels it. Your tongue. His whole body shivers at the wet glide of your tongue on his throat, and Lo‘ak swallows thickly, before coming back to his senses.

"O-Okay, listen, uhm, I’m gonna put you down now", he scrambles, untangling you from his body to set you down to your feet. Your knees seem a little weak and Lo‘ak can’t help but reach out to hold you steady, ignoring the way it makes you blush and lean in on him again.

It doesn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that whatever was in that glass container must’ve been some sort of drug or whatever. As soon as the coin drops, Lo‘aks heart fills with guilt. His expression shifts to that of worry and uncertainty as he ponders if calling his father would be a good idea. He knows he has to make sure you’ll be okay, has to get you to the tsahìk, but he knows just as well that dad will most definitely skin him alive if he finds his precious adoptive daughter in this condition.

"I feel weird, Lo'", you snap him out of his train of thoughts. Lo’aks hands are on your upper arms, holding you steady while simultaneously keeping some distance between you and him. His eyes scan you up down, and he almost chokes on his spit as he catches the way you clench your thighs together, squirming, and fiddling with the fabric of your loincloth. "Feels really weird… here", you tell him in a hushed whisper, one of your hands bullying it’s way between your clenched thighs. Your eyes are half lidded and glassy as you stare up at him through your lashes, your cheeks flushed in a dark red.

Now he’s panicking.

"S-Shit", he sputters. His eyes are wide as he adverts his gaze to somewhere, anywhere else but you, trying not to look at his stepsister touching and rubbing herself over her clothes. That’s bad, that’s really, really bad. "Let’s just get you home, yeah? I‘m– I‘m sure there’s a cure to whatever it is that you have."

One quick glance down to see if you had even heard what he just said, and he finds you still clumsily rubbing your hands between your thighs, seeking some sort of relief. "But you", he swallows thickly, "you really need to stop doing that, okay?" Lo’ak knows he doesn’t even sound half convincing, and it takes him more than just a bit of effort to not stare at you right now.

You look back at him under your lashes, bite your bottom lip and shake your head and he knows you’re doing that on purpose— working him up with those helpless little noises, sweet sounds of need and pleasure, thighs clenching and unclenching around your own hand.

"C-Can’t you just help me? Please, I- I need you."

One of your hands then closes around his wrist and before he realizes to where you’re guiding him, his palm cups your still covered cunt. He feels your slick drench the woven coverings under his fingertips and his eyes widen. "Need you here", you plead. "It hurts so bad, Lo‘ak. I‘m so empty."

"I– I can’t, we shouldn’t—" Lo’ak shakes his head, seemingly torn, but suddenly your lips press against his and he just can’t find it in himself to pull away.

Your lips are so soft, softer than he imagined (not that he imagined what kissing you would be like, ever) and the moment Lo‘ak finds himself kissing back you surge forward, the grip around his wrist tightens, urging him to stay right there, teeth nipping at his bottom lip until his lips part and he can taste you, your tongue slipping inside his mouth, your salvia mixing with his.

Your kiss is forceful and he’s so much more into it than he thought he’d ever be. And when you pull back your lips are red and wet, and he knows his mouth is probably a perfect mirror to yours.

"Fuck, tanhì, baby", he whispers, "Gonna get me in trouble…" And in an instant he’s on you again. His tongue tingles as it curls around yours, with drool running down his chin as he backs you up against a tree. You cling to him, desperate and wanting, not letting go of his wrist until he makes you understand that he’s only pulling away to get that damn loincloth out of the way. It nearly rips with the effort of getting it off, but when he finally succeeds you both clumsily pull each other to the ground.

This is wrong, he thinks as he spreads your legs opens. This is so wrong, he thinks as he runs his hands up and down your body, your chest, pushing your top out of the way.

You look so beautiful like this, chest heaving and covered in a thin layer of sweat. Hair messy and eyes dark with lust, pupils so blown it should make him worry, but he can’t bring himself to care when his gaze falls to the space between your thighs where slick oozes out of you in a concerning amount.

"Please- Please put it in, I need you", you slur, spreading your thighs further apart. "Need you inside."

Your pussy looks red and puffy, so sensitive as he runs two digits through your folds and then gently pushes them in. You gasp, but open up perfectly for him. It’s not enough, Lo‘ak can feel it. He curls his fingers, pumps them in and out a few times to hear those sweet moans tumble from your parted lips.

"You have to promise you won’t hate me after this", he says under his breath. His thumb glides over your clit, gently pushing its little hood up to bring the little nub into view and he can almost feel it throb under his touch. "I‘m just helping you out because you asked for it, alright?" Lo‘ak says it as if he’s talking to himself, reassuring that you want this, it’s okay, and maybe it actually is. Peeling his eyes away from the mouthwatering sight between your thighs he finally looks back up at you, swallowing the salvia that has been pooling in his mouth. "Promise you won’t hate me. Please." The restrain is clear in his voice, but he’s nowhere near as needy as you are. "C’mon, baby, say it. Tell me with your words."

"I won’t hate you, Lo‘ak just please–" Suddenly you shove him by the shoulders, rolling over until you’re the one straddling him, pinning him down to the ground. Your hand impatiently reaches between your thighs and feels for his cock, before repositioning it to prod his tip at your entrance. He bucks up into your hand as you give his cock a few pumps, pre-cum dribbling through your fingers.

The sight of him beneath you sends a throb straight to your cunt.

Lo‘ak sucks in a breath just as he’s about to tell you to wait, slow down, but then you‘re already slamming yourself down onto him without remorse. Fuck, it's so easy. Fits right in like a glove; overwhelmingly wet and warm, a terrible combination that scares him.

A punched out moan breaks from his throat as he feels the tightness of your velvety-like walls envelope his length. He’s so deep inside you, he can feel your cervix kissing his tip and it sends a shudder up his spine.

It's almost an out-of-body experience as you get on your haunches and lift yourself up, the head of his cock still nudged against your entrance, and he watches your gleaming lips part before you sink all the way back down again, taking him into the softest, most delicate parts of yourself.

Lo‘ak feels it and knows that he can’t change anything about the way he’s completely surrendering to your control- and he absolutely fucking loves it.

It’s so wrong, but that’s what brings a tingle to his fingertips. So dirty, but that’s what makes heat raise under his skin like a fire burning down a forest.

Lo’ak watches the way your belly contracts visibly, in time with the hitch in your breath at the first few thrusts. Your thighs tense and your fingers finds his braids to anchor yourself, and his hands find your hips and push you down harder on his length and he’s startled to realise how soft you are now, yielding to him in ways he’d never have imagined once. You’re putty in his hands, ridden by nothing but pleasure. A carnal need.

It’s luck that the adventures in Lo’aks life gave or showed him at least a bit of reservoirs of self-control that his karyus [teachers] never thought he had, because after those first few thrusts, you ride him vigorously.

Lo’ak doesn’t know how you’re this in sync, but he knows you want him to fuck you hard and fast. With his hands still gripping your hips tightly, he drives deep and eagerly into your weeping cunt, welcomed by that glorious softness again and again, and you wrap your arms around his neck and meet his thrusts as best as you can.

"Lo‘ak", you draw out his name in a long, pathetic moan, "more, need more!"

"Great mother, you’re greedy, baby," he huffs out in a laugh, grips your hips and holds you down on his cock for a second longer than necessary, just to feel your little cunt pulsate around him. You struggle briefly, before picking up the pace again, bouncing harder than before, but also more uncoordinated.

"S‘just so good," you slur, sounding almost drunk. "You feel so good inside me. Fuck me harder!"

Your tongue lolls out and he catches you mid way, tongues meeting in a hungry, filthy kiss. You taste awfully sweet as you moan into it, and Lo‘ak can’t help but think you would want spurs right now, to urge him on all the more. As if he needs that when you kiss him like this, when you hold him so close he feels your tits, soft and warm and perfect, press against his chest.

His cock throbs and you’re starting to quiver now, distinct from the more deliberate movements you both make. It shows in your breasts, makes your thighs tremble against his sides and makes tremors in your stomach muscles.

For a moment it switches from bouncing to grinding, and Lo‘ak knows what you’re trying to do. You grind and rub your needy little clit against his pubic bone, let out desperate noises of pleasure while you hump him.

Lo‘ak makes a hungry humming noise in return which he feels through his lips, once you break away from the kiss, then a breathy groan when he captures a nipple between his teeth. His tongue swirls around the little nub before he tugs and he enjoys the way you clench around him at this.

One of his hands comes up to palm the other, kneading your soft flesh and twirling a nipple between his digits.

"Come for me", he then says, flat tongue gliding over your breast before goosebumps raise underneath. "Come for me, tsmuke. Do it."

The scream you let out is borderline pornographic. It brings tears to your eyes and nearly tips you off balance if it weren’t for Lo‘ak holding you, fucking you through it with short but deep thrusts that send you gasping for air. "Hmh, there it is. Good girl," he groans, "keep coming for me, baby, just like that. Let it all out for your big bro, yeah? Let me feel how bad you wanted this. Look at me."

You force your eyes to stay on him, watch him as you fall apart, rocking your hips for that little bit of extra friction, and Lo’ak feels all of it. The wetness where you are slipping together, the tightness, the little tremors of your body, the pulse of your clit as it rubs against him.

Lo‘ak doesn’t even realize he’s coming himself because he’s entirely too focused on you. He’s bluntly staring at you, eyes half open, mouth agape. It’s like he is trying to burn the image of your pleasure ridden face and your picture perfect body on top of him into his brain forever. He wants to keep it stored away just for himself, to come back to after this is over because he knows he can’t have you again. Because this can’t happen again.

The wet plap, plap, plap of his thrusts continues until your thighs begin to shake and he’s sure he has emptied even the last drop of his cum into your core. It’s back to just grinding then, wet bodies pressing together, closer and closer until neither of you can’t move anymore.

You’re panting, exhausted and spent, your chest heaving to inhale big gulps of air into your burning lungs. Blinking a few times, Lo‘ak notes that your eyes are halfway back to normal, pupils not as big as they were, your skin feeling less feverish but all the more sticky than before.

Good, that’s good, right?

"You," a pause, he swallows, "you okay?"

Nodding and a little out of breath you confirm it with a quick, breathy, "yeah."

There’s a long, long moment of silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, sweat still pearling at your forehead and messy hair framing your beautiful face. Lo‘ak looks at you like he’s afraid breaking the eye contact would break the spell and you would shove him away and call him disgusting, but you don’t.

"I'm not sorry, you know" he says finally, when he can’t stand it anymore. "I would do it again. For you. I will do it again, in a heartbeat, if I...."

"If you have to," you finish for him.

Lo’ak considers pushing it, considers holding your face and speak more firmly so he could be sure he had your full attention while he tried to make you get it. "Yeah," he says gently instead, risking a half hearted grin that would surely give him away. "If I have to."

#avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #Lo’ak #lo’ak fic #lo’ak x female reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x fem!reader #lo’ak x you #lo’ak x y/n #loak x female reader #loak x female reader smut #loak x reader #loak x reader smut #loak x you #loak x omatikaya!reader #loak x y/n #loak x sister!reader #loak #loak sully #atwow loak #avatar loak #loak smut #loak fanfiction #lo’ak sully #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #lo’ak avatar #atwow lo’ak #lo’ak smut

[thejujvtsupost]

The Red Queen

So this isn’t entirely smut but it’s definitely suggestive so I’ll still say it’s 18+? Anyway, I love this trope of sweet husband! Sukuna so much. I picture this set in a somewhat modern time where he lives in a large castle/estate and rules over land; but it can definitely be read like it’s the Heian era. It’s also my first Sukuna work!

Notes: F!reader, lovesick sweet husband sukuna, period and blood mention, suggestive/light smut throughout, almost oral sex (f receiving), reader is victim to the ridiculous stigma surrounding periods.

Sukuna is familiar with menstrual cycles, it’s one of the reasons he had more than one concubine until now- when he only had you. His queen.

He didn’t mind blood, but there was too much complaining mess and disinterest. He wasn’t going to fuck someone that wouldn’t worship him.

And you were one of them, at least at first. Starting out as a concubine and carrying out some maid duties as well until you quickly became the master’s favorite.

He tried to rationalize his feelings at the time. Maybe it was the way you squeaked when he was inside you for the first time, or the way you rode him… perhaps, and the more likely reason, was how you treated him. You were worthy of being his queen, and dare he say, he experienced love for the first time.

You didn’t look away like the others when you witnessed him covered in blood (even though blood made you squeamish), instead you ran to him to see if he was alright.

“Master Sukuna! Are you alright, did someone attack you- woah!” Your voice wavered when you tripped on your own kimono. Sukuna caught you easily, though one hand facepalmed at your clumsy display when he did.

Okay, maybe you were a bit oblivious. And clumsy. And hopelessly charming. “I am fine. I intend to bathe shortly.”

“I’ll start the water then- oh, or would you like me to find Uraume?” The pout you sported amused him enough to humor you. His other concubines hadn’t been this concerned about him before. You were strange, but not bad…

You also sympathized with him while he took out his stress on your smaller body.

“I should kill him for his insolence!” Was expressed between sharp thrusts, yet you were too overwhelmed to do more than moan and cum. By this time you were the only concubine being called for quite some time, you took the brunt of his anger by yourself, happily.

As you were collecting your clothing afterwards, you went out on a limb that you know could have gotten you killed, but he deserved to be validated: “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, my king. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you. Good night.”

You were mid bow when he barked out “stay”, is your assumption that he wanted your body again was incorrect. It was the first night you slept in his chambers and you’ve slept beside him ever since. You didn’t question him, you weren’t afraid.

You were happy to stay.

It wasn’t long after that night when he decided you would be his queen.

You were married under cherry blossom trees in the spring.

The plush bed did little to help your suffering. The aching of your womb didn’t stop, and after a particularly painful cramp, the tears were coming.

The arrival to your shared chambers had him concerned, he hadn’t sensed you elsewhere and your energy was drained- yet you weren’t asleep.

(And you didn’t greet him cutely, which he totally wasn’t looking forward to after being away for a week.)

“My love?”

Your pained grumble led him towards you, and as he grew closer he smelled the blood. “Where are you injured? Why isn’t anyone tending to you?” He knelt down to be level with you and brushed the hair from your eyes.

“‘m’not injured, it’s… it’s a girl thing. It’s just really bad this time around.”

“Ah, your menstrual cycle.”

“Sukuna! Don’t just say it out loud! It’s so embarrassing, I bled on the sheets too and Uraume is washing them alone so I don’t crawl into a hole and die. I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Or what? I’ll be smited? It’s just a sign of fertility, that you can carry my heir. Don’t hide, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re always so secretive about it but I know anyway, it’s not a big deal.” He tried to placate you but you burrowed into the blankets further.

“I just feel gross like this, like I’m an ugly mess and it’s so bad this time. I can’t even move without it hurting and I’m frustrated! This is hardly fair.” You winced at another cramp and he tutted at you.

“You tried heat and the usual stuff I’m assuming?” Your pathetic nod was his only response. “Alright lie on your back, I’ll get rid of the cramps.”

His robes were dropped off the edge of the bed and he tossed the blankets back to get to you. “Wait I don’t think I can handle sex right now-”

“Who said anything about fucking you? I’m going to eat you out until you can’t feel anything except my tongue on your cunt. Release soothes cramps.”

“Oh my god, you can’t there’s so much blood! That’s gross-”

A large hand took hold of your face to meet your eyes, “no part of you is gross or ugly or whatever nonsense is in your head. Do not speak of my queen that way, my love. I’ve killed for less and I have no problem spanking your ass raw when you’re no longer menstruating. Understand?”

“Yeth s’kuna” your cheeks were smushed in his firm albeit gentle grip, causing your words to slur. He released you and kissed each cheek, then your lips, lovingly.

“Now, may I continue on? You are free to decline but don’t let nonsense cloud your answer.”

You contemplated, if it would relieve your cramps then… “You can continue, it really hurts though so be gentle.”

Sukuna peeled your clothes from your body and grew level with your hips “As if I’d be anything else, woman.”

Let me know if you guys want more sweet husband!Sukuna, I kinda really like this flavor of him.

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics and @thecutestgrotto

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! 💗

#sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #reader insert #no use of y/n #light smut #suggestive #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

[russellsppttemplates]

Oscar 'acts-of-service' Piastri with accident prone, clumsy, but shy reader just makes so much sense to me...

"Let me get that for you, love", your boyfriend said as he got the duty free bag from your hands.

"It isn't heavy, Osc, I was fine carrying it", you argued as you got on the escalator.

"Y/N, no one should ever have both of their hands occupied or carrying stuff because if they fall, they can't help themselves - no one should do it, and you much less", he reasoned.

"It's not that bad I- whoop!", you yelped, holding onto the rubber railing as you nearly stumbled of the escalator steps.

"Do you see what I mean?", Oscar shook his head with a smile on his lips.

.

"Fuck!", you hissed after accidentally closing your hand with the drawer.

"What was it this time?", Oscar called from his spot on the bathroom, spitting the toothpaste out and wiping his mouth before meeting you in the bedroom.

"It's my finger, but it's not broken this time, it's just a little red, it will probably bruise soon", you tsked.

Oscar held your hand and inspected it, agreeing with what you said as he made you do some mobility exercises, kissing your knuckle gently, "come here, I'll help you with your skincare", he gestured to the vanity table.

He grabbed all the products he knew you used and started applying them to your skin, kissing your nose softly a couple of times, "I'll go get some ice for your finger, and you can keep it for the night or until the ice pack melts", he stated.

"Thank you, Osc", you blushed before you sat down on the bed.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#oscar piastri blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader