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erodasfishtacos · 2 years

Note

okay so ive seen a couple of your blurbs/one shots in mlbrry trope talking about their fuck in the baltimore dugout, and honnestly, i wanna know the deets 😫😫. is there a one shot on the baltimore dugout anywhere?

So Pretty, It’s Blinding

prompt: a follow up to this one shot, what happens when YN wants to use her redeemable coupon on Harry?

warnings: public sex, smut, minors dni

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an: hi everyone! im backkkkkkk. i missed you all so much but have been having a really rough time outside tumblr. this is pure smut and i know a lot of you having been waiting for this. enjoy 🐠 🌮 🏝

Harry was exhausted.

The game went into three innings of overtime, for the majority of which, Harry was on the mound, and the other - he was on base.

During the bottom of the fifth, Harry was bolting from first to second to get a double, and the short stop ‘accidentally’ tripped him.

It resulted in Harry falling onto the dirt hard, with a minor pain shooting up his side, but before he can register it - he’s up on his feet and cussing out the opposing player.

He nearly got kicked from the game but luckily, his teammate stopped him before he could land a hit to the dude’s face.

YN watched from her seat, no babies, they we’re back in New York with Anne and Gemma.

She watched with a bit of humor because her husband that was currently on the field calling the player a ‘cunt’ was just FaceTiming with his babies before the game - cooing at them and telling them how much he loves them.

The coach put him on the bench for an inning to cool down and in that time, their next up pitcher gave up five fucking points - though YN could hear him still shouting curses from the dugout.

“Fuckin’ curveball it. You’re ruining the game that I had us winning, fucker!” To his own teammate.

“Of course, you only fuckin’ sign cheaters!” To the opposing coach.

“I suck? Explain to me why I make more than all of you combined then! Fuckin’ idiots.” To the rival players.

But a few hours earlier, Harry was murmuring softly to Ezra, “Daddy loves you so much. Miss you ever my second I’m away, bubby. You gotta be good f’your nana though, yes?”

They won the game but it wasn’t a win that Harry was satisfied with because he stormed off the field and didn’t shake hands at the end of the game.

YN feels a bit of disappointment ball in her stomach because this is the first time in quite a while they’ve gotten a child-free night and she didn’t want him in a sour mood for it.

She had brought it along and kept it in her purse for this sole reason, a crumbled up piece of paper that read in Harry’s handwriting, ‘one free fucking, redeemable whenever, expiration never’.

Unlike her husband, she held onto her coupon until the timing was absolutely perfect and she saw opportunity when he walked back onto the field after everyone had cleared out and he found his wife perched on the barrier - waiting.

He had taken an extra long shower to calm down and then a long talk with his coaches because he doesn’t reappear for over an hour and a half - YN is sure he had texted her telling her to go back to the hotel because he was hung up but she didn’t bother to check.

And Harry is predictable, since he didn’t get a reply text - he would come back out to the field, just to make sure his wife still wasn’t waiting.

When he steps back out onto the green, his brow furrows grumpily when he spots her still sat, waiting for him to come retrieve her.

“Your phone die or somethin’? Tried texting and calling you to tell you not to wait for me,” Harry huffs as he arrives in front of her, big palms resting on her thighs.

“Mm,” YN hums non-commitally, she could already feel herself soaking through her underwear with the anticipation of what was about to happen - her body knew him inside and out, knew the pleasure he could give her whenever she asked.

Harry reaches his hand out, a bit confused but honestly a little too pissed off still to question her any further on why she waited but she pressed her foot against his thigh to push him back.

“What are you doing, mama? Don’t you want to go back to the hotel?” Harry asks with a slight harsh edge, he was honestly getting annoyed - he wanted to get the fuck out of this stupid stadium.

“Watch your tone, H,” YN chastises lightly before she’s taking his hand and slipping something into the palm of his calloused one.

He is perplexed as he opens his fist and unravels the tiny scrap of paper from a few months ago, eyes quickly flitting over his own writing before his facial expression darkens with realization.

“Fuck,” He grunts, his voice getting at least an octave lower with lust as he yanks her off her bum and says, “C’mon, let’s go to the hotel. Give you want you want. Nice n’ hard.”

“No,” YN tells him haughtily as he tries to interlock their fingers to walk towards the exit of the green, “It said whenever, I didn’t say I want it at the hotel. If I wanted it there, I would have waited to give it to you.”

YN watches him as he finally connects the pieces of the puzzle, his shoulders straightening and he takes a deep inhale, “You want my cock here? At the stadium? Are you just messing with me?”

“Does it feel like I am?” YN bites back, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and bring his hand to her center where through her thin biker shorts, he can feel not only the heat but the delicious wetness.

“Fuckin’ hell. Know just the place to pound into you,” Harry nearly growls as he wastes no time in pulling her along the turf until they’re going down just five steps to get into the dugout.

It’s so fucking hot, how absolutely turned on he is - it’s like he’s feral with how his jaw is clenched and his movements are demanding and rough as he shoves her into the deep corner of it - somewhat shielded from wondering eyes (but not really).

The tips of his fingers dig roughly into the meaty flesh of her hips as he attempts to spin her so her hands are braced on the wooden bench and her ass is presented to him.

YN doesn’t obliges, she gives him a light shove and a warning glare before roughly palming at where he’s completely stiff in his athletic shorts.

“Bab-baby,” He gasps lowly, hips bucking into her hand, trying to create as much friction as possible - he was shameless, he wanted to fuck his wife whenever she would let him, would fuck her in the middle of the field if she asked.

“It’s my coupon to redeem,” She reminds him harshly, plopping down on the bench and spreading her thighs, “Get on your knees.”

Harry’s mouth is open like a fish, eyes wide in disbelief before they dart around to make sure no one is nearby them to see.

“What the fuck has gotten into you, mama? Gonna make me come like a schoolboy in my pants,” Harry shakes his head as he kneels down - his hands moving to roll down the band of her biker shorts and thin underwear.

Not a lot, just enough that her pretty folds are glistening in the light reflected from the field in front of them.

Just enough that he could duck his head and lick a fat stripe at her lower lips and taste the sweetness that was waiting for him.

“My favorite meal, darling,” He groans in pleasure before burying his face between her thighs again, giving her a warning pinch when she tries to wriggle her shorts down more, popping back up, “Cut it out, not getting you naked here. Greedy brat.”

YN grumbles a bit but that quickly dissipated when his front teeth graze her clit, just a tiny spark of pain then followed by him creating a tight, wet suction that soothes the sting.

YN’s hands are knotted into his freshly-washed curls, tugging and bossy but it just has him moaning further into her cunt - no care that they’re in a public space.

With the excitement of it all, it’s only a few more minutes of Harry lapping at her, laying his tongue flat so she can grind against it, and his fingers coming up to tuck into her to stroke at her walls before she’s trembling.

“H, oh my god. It feels so good, s’good,” YN begins to moan much to loudly as her orgasm comes crashing over her and Harry keeps his mouth busy but his hand comes up to smack across her mouth to shut her up.

Harry’s quite sure he’s never been this close to coming without any stimulation - eyes watching as his wife shivers through her pleasure in then corner of a dugout.

He rolls up her bottoms as soon as she’s ridden out the wave, he has no desire for anyone to see her undressed, no matter how hot the sex.

YN’s has a cocky but hazy smile on her lips when Harry removes his hand but it disappears when she hears a loud noise of a machine revving up.

Harry peeks his head around to see, at the far back right in the outfield - one of the employees was doing turf maintaince on a utility cart, among a couple other men out there helping him.

“Perfect timing,” YN giggles as she stands up, legs a bit wobbly.

“You’re right,” Harry smirks, he maneuvers his confused wife until she’s right where he wants her - hands braced on the bench, bum pushed out for him.

“Harry, wha-?”

“You got yours, mama. Don’t be greedy, gonna give me mine now,” Harry rumbles as once again, he only pulls down her shorts enough and then pulls her shirt down as far as possible to cover her up.

It didn’t make it any less sexy but at the end of the day, she’s his wife and mother of his children - not someone who’s just a sex object, he would never want to expose her.

“There’s people on the field, H,” YN hisses as Harry pulls himself out of his shorts, already swollen and begging for his own relief.

“Then you better keep you’re pretty mouth shut so everyone doesn’t hear how good your husband fucks you, huh?” He teases, lips brush her earlobe as he slips his wet tip through her folds, her entrance giving way easily for him.

“Oh-ohh!” She moans, much to loudly, as she clenches her warm, velvet walls on him - nearly suffocating his cock with pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“You like that?” Harry laughs meanly, pulling out only to slam back in, admiring the way that her cheeks jiggle with the force, “Love how slutty you are for me.”

“You-you’re the slut,” YN bites back, hands gripping the wood enough to feel like she’s going to get splinters, knuckles white as her knees weaken with sensitivity radiating from her core.

He lets out a delighted, sleazy laugh as he kisses the back of her shoulder, “Of course I am. S’all for you though. Big ole’ baseball star, make the most money in the league, most sought after, and you’re the only one who’s got this cock.”

Then there’s a shuffling sound nearby that has Harry pulling out and nearly ripping his wife’s shorts with how fast he pulls them back up over her cheeks before stuffing himself back in his shorts.

Harry’s yanking her up so she’s not in such a compromising position and tugs her into his chest so that by the time one of the maintenance men steps into their line of sight - it doesn’t giveaway what they where doing.

The janitor looks at Harry with wide, star-struck eyes, nearly dropping his bucket as they meet gazes, the man stutters out, “You-you’re Harry Styles.”

Harry is thankful that his hard on had managed to go down at a reasonably fast rate so that when he turned to the man and detached from the hug, he didn’t look like a perv.

“I am, s’nice to meet you,” Harry smiles genuinely, it’s not this man’s fault that he interrupted something that wasn’t supposed to be happening there.

“I, I usually not allowed t-to ask but my kid-kids would,” The man continues with his hands shaking like he’s just met God himself, reaching down into the bucket to grab a dirty ball, probably from the bull pen.

“Sign it? Not a problem, mate. What are your kids names?” Harry answers for him, stepping forward and waiting patiently for the man to dig out a marker from his pocket.

“Lilianna, Joseph, and Luke.”

The superstar signs the ball with a personalized little message for the children and while he does, the man casually asks, “What are you still doing on the green?”

Harry is so fucking smooth though, doesn’t even blink before responding with a easy lie, “My wedding band fell off and m’wife wasn’t gonna let me in the hotel room unless I found it. Luckily, I did.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. Thank you for this, Mr, Styles,” The man says before waving at YN and disappearing through a door that was just to the right of them.

Harry tries to hide his disappointment, that their spontaneous sex didn’t pan out how they planned, and so he steps over, kissing his wife’s lips, and muttering, “To be continued at the hotel?”

YN gives him a rough pinch to his bicep, “Since when are you the vanilla one?” Basking in enjoyment when his expression because stormy, “You can take me back to the hotel or you could take me to the locker room like the old days.”

Despite how deep the ache from the game is in Harry’s bones, he’s grappling for her hand and pulling her along towards the field exit and to the locker room.

It’s cleared out by now, already cleaned by how the carpet is freshly vacuumed, and all the stalls for the players are empty and wiped down.

“Get fuckin’ naked,” Harry orders loudly, cock easily harden back to full mast because he was that ready for his wife and he was pretty positive no one else would come into the locker room.

“But-“ YN hesitates but it’s interrupted when Harry roughly pulls her Jersey over her head, then her bra, before yanking down her shorts and panties in one go.

“But nothing,” Harry hisses as he undressed himself quickly, fucking in YN’s fist when she wraps her hand around him, “Don’t act like you’re shy now, love. Just let me have y’cunt in a full ass stadium. You’re used to this, remember how many times you came on my cock in the college locker room? Of course, you remember.”

“Harry,” YN giggles, face heating up even though it’s just them in the room.

“What? No need to be embarrassed. S’just me, your husband, yeah?” His voice is like pure sex on its on as his fingers dip between her folds to make sure she’s still drenched, which of course she is.

“Harry,” YN squeals quietly, letting her boyfriend manhandle her in the dingy, cramp shower stall in the bathrooms of their college locker room.

“Wha’?” He smiles cheekily, dimple creating a deep crater in his check as he pushes her up against the wall and lifts her leg to give him room.

“You’re insane,” She scolds, voice still low but she allows him to maneuver her into a comfortable position.

“C’mon, baby. Had to wait until I found the love of my life to fuck. Least you could do is spread ‘em and let me fuck you like I mean it,” Harry has no shame in his words as he starts to guide himself into her warm center - there’s a rustle outside and YN’s eyes widen but Harry just shuts the curtain even more and thrusts in.

Harry’s press her into a locker but just like before, she pushes him back by his chest, scolding, “You’re always so bossy when we have sex.”

He can’t help it when he lands a hard smack on her ass for her comment but his cock visible twitches when she sits him down on the bench and knees his legs open.

“Baby, baby,” Harry begins to babble excitedly as she straddles him and grips his length to line it up to her, “You gonna ride me? Fuckin’ hell, give me your perfect cunt. How’d did I get so lucky? Fell in love with the hottest woman on this planet.”

YN isn’t gonna lie, her ego is stroked with his reverent praises - he always acts like he’s starving and has been deprived of sex for years when he just got it yesterday.

The horniest of his college years truly never wore off and YN couldn’t say she was happy about it - who wouldn’t want to always feel wanted and beautiful by their partner?

It is also intense when she opens up and lets him in, stretching her walls in the most delicious way - his large, strong hands come to grip the extra plush at her hips to sink her all the way down.

YN’s head falls back, hair cascading down her back, throat exposed as she lets out a loud whine at the feeling and Harry has to try his hardest not to shoot off right there as her tits bounce with her movement.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, mama,” He groans, not embarrassed to admit his thighs are shaking with effort not to come on the spot, squeezing him so fucking good, “You are so pretty it’s blinding. I swear it makes sense why I’m demi, only made for you.”

“Fuck, like that,” YN mewls, nails digging into his shoulders as she exerts all her might in her thighs, burning from the positioning but she’s so close to her second orgasm that it doesn’t matter.

“Need you to come, don’t be selfish now,” Harry grits out, planting his feet flat and beginning to fuck up into her with power that most men couldn’t dream of having.

“I-it’s,” She doesn’t get any other words out because while he’s pounding into her, his teeth come to graze at her sensitive nipples before biting at them with enough still to hurt.

“I said, come on,” It’s now an order, amplified by a forceful smack to her backside, followed by three more consecutively that have pain radiating in every nerve ending but it does the trick when he bullies her into coming.

“Finally,” Harry rumbles proudly, letting go and joining her in release as so as she starts rhythmically clenching around him - he voice echoing through empty room as he unabashedly moans loudly enough that someone surely has had to hear.

YN’s legs ache, she’s not a professional athlete like her husband who can fuck in the most exhausting positions for hours and so, as soon as she comes down from her wave she’s letting her head fall to his now sweaty chest, his chestnut curls matted to his temple.

He was so attractive it hurt.

No only was he her husband but the father of her babies and if she thought about it for too much longer, she’s get turned on all over again.

“That was a nice surprise,” Harry murmurs, more softly now, hands kneading apologetically at her irritated cheeks from where his rings had raised her skin.

“I can be sexy sometimes,” YN chuckles, pushing back into the massage for a moment before swinging her leg off and getting up to gather her closing.

Harry stops her though, grabbing her jaw with light pressure until their eyes meet, “Hey. You’re always sexy. We don’t have to do anything crazy for me to be craving your cunt every second of the day. Whether it’s at a stadium or right before we go to sleep in our bed. Anytime you give it to me, I love it.”

“You’re too good to me,” She mumbles sheepishly, pursing her lips until he leans forward to connect their lips.

They get dressed, ready to go back to hotel and shower, then order room service and cuddle - excited to sleep in tomorrow.

As they walk out, hand and hand, they don’t see the employee around the corner who’s emptying trash cans and pulling out his phone to text his wife.

Pretty sure Harry Styles was just fucking his wife in the locker room

2K notes · View notes

allofuswantgwinam · 2 years

Text

Gwi nam x reader, lee suhyeok x reader

authors note: this was my first smut and the first writing ive moved from my old tumblr lol requests are still open ive just had a bad mental week, sorry they’re taking so long to the few that have requested stories💗

warnings: 18+, smut, degrading, unprotected sex, angst, jealousy, dirty talk *if i leave anything out let me know pls cause I would never want to accidentally upset or trigger anyone ❤️😢

i was pressed against the bathroom wall, gwi nams front pressing my back. his one arm was wrapped around my waist pulling me back into him while his other hand gripped my hair roughly. “where’s your bitch of a boyfriend, hmm?” he spoke harshly with his lips pressed against the shell of my ear “did he already become zombie food?” he snickered and grazed his teeth on my ear sending chills down my spine. his body was warm and i could feel his bulge pressed against me. it might be fucked up but i liked it. his dominance was turning me on but i really hoped suhyeok was ok. i care about him.

i knew who he was referring to. gwi nam of all people is the only person that knows my secret. “he’s not my boyfriend.” he’s just jealous because he hasn’t had the chance and lee suhyeok has. a few times actually. he’s my best friend but things happen and it hasn’t seemed to affect our friendship so I’m ok with it.

“i will fuck you better than him.”

i kinda thought to myself for a second… I’ve always been attracted to yoon gwi nam. i just couldn’t stand how he treated people, but the fact that there’s zombies running around eating everyone at my high school makes me think i should just see what the fuck could happen because the most unfathomable has already happened. i stayed silent because i didn’t really know what to say, but i was curious. “you’re not his girlfriend you’re just a slut.” he let go of my hair and slid his hands up my torso and grabbed my breasts roughly. “you’re gonna be a slut for me now, got that?” he squeezed my clothed nipples making me moan quietly.

“Y/N/N? what the fuck is going on? get off her!!” lee suhyeok ran and ripped gwi nam off me and i turned facing them. my heart was racing. suhyeok punched gwi nam in face and then kicked him to the ground.

“Stop!” i yelled running over to grab suhyeok and pull him away. “he wasn’t going to hurt me!” we had a weird relationship. gwi nam was my table mate in 2 classes and he always teased me but it wasn’t really hurtful… it was sexual. he would straightforwardly check me out or play with my hair and whisper dirty things he would do if we weren’t in a classroom so he could watch my face go red in embarrassment. I could never understand why he would never try to find me anywhere out of school but ive always been too afraid of the dangers i might face being involved with him to find out. gwi nam got up and wiped off his pants. “you’re not her boyfriend.” he stated blankly and looked at suhyeok.

suhyeok was standing with such confusion on his face. from me telling him to stop beating up gwi nam and him seeing what he saw when he walked in the bathroom. he didn’t know how to feel or what to feel. i was holding suhyeok’s arm to keep him from attacking gwi again. “what’s that even supposed to mean? you can’t just do whatever you want with people. i will fucking kill y-“

“she wanted it.” Gwi nam laughed menacingly and stepped towards suhyeok. “Y/N was moaning for me you just couldn’t hear it.” he smirked and stopped nose to nose with suhyeok. suhyeok was pissed. I’d never seen him look so angry. betrayal? maybe he feels betrayed that i would let someone else have me… i didn’t think it mattered to him. maybe it’s just cause it’s yoon gwi nam. they have a history and i wouldn’t say they quite fancy each other.

“stop, both of you” i groaned and stepped in between them pushing them away from each other. “this is stupid.”

“Y/N lets go” suhyeok said seriously while grabbing your hand and holding it tight. he was mad at you but still wanted to protect you and obviously get the hell away from gwi nam.

“no ones going anywhere.” gwi nam spoke up sternly. “so what’s gonna happen is you’re gonna share her with me… she’s gonna have to make a decision when we’re done.” I stood there starting to get a little nervous. that last part didn’t sound good.

“fuck you. we’re leaving.” Suhyeok said and pulled me towards the door with him.

“i’ll kill you.” gwi nam spat. “i’ll kill you and then there will be no decision. you’ll be dead and she’ll be mine.” he continued stopping suhyeok in his tracks.

i squeezed suhyeoks hand and whispered to him “it’s ok… Please just listen to him. i don’t want him to hurt you and…. it’s ok. i feel safe with you here.” i looked at him with pleading eyes. i didn’t know what i was doing. i just knew i had an arousal that needed to be fulfilled and two very attractive men in front of me. unfortunately one of them could be deadly.

suhyeok took a deep breathe and turned towards gwi nam “so what do you mean by share her?” he raised his eyebrows and continued to stand in front of me protectively.

gwi nam smirked and walked closer to us “we’ll take turns fucking her and she’ll have to decide who to leave with. it’d be nice to have a partner in crime as pretty as your little sex toy here.” he said while studying my body and biting his lip hungrily. “i might have issues sharing.”

suhyeok looked like he wanted to puke. i felt his body tense up in front of me. he knew this could end in a few different ways. death. me for whatever reason leaving with gwi nam instead of him which i know i would never do by my own will. or zombies come in here but that’s the least of anyone’s concerns right now. Suhyeok is in a rough situation and i feel like it’s my fault.

“ok.” i spoke up which of course pleased gwi nam.

“what!?” Suhyeok snapped while facing me with a pissed off look. “this is crazy… what the fuck?!” he paced the bathroom.

“face it. she’s just a slut, she doesn’t actually care about you. you’re just a fuck and she was gonna let me fuck her too until you rudely interrupted” he spat. suhyeok was just looking at me, with pure anger and confusion.

“are you really ok with this?? im not afraid to prove myself, but i don’t want you to be in a situation you’re not comfortable wit-“

“she was moaning, don’t forget abo-“ gwi nam cockily interrupted.

suhyeok shoved me forcefully against the bathroom sink and pressed his body against mine. “you think you can find better dick huh?” he whispered gruffly against my lips “I’ll fuckin show you” he grasped my face and kissed me aggressively. i melted. i don’t understand where this is coming from. he’s not vanilla but i think he’s hiding something from me and now he’s gonna take it out on me sexually which i am not complaining. his kisses are sending shivers down my spine and tingles in all the right places. i forget gwi nam is even there for a second.

“show me” i moaned in his mouth. suhyeok ripped my button up shirt open and reached around to unclapse my bra. “mine” he grumbled and sucked on my left nipple while pinching the other one.

“fuck” i moaned and gripped a hand in his hair. i looked over and looked into gwi nams eyes, almost taunting him. he watched, he was smirking at me. almost like he was watching and planning his enter. i reached down and palmed suhyeoks bulge making him moan, squeezing it and still looking in gwi nams eyes.

gwi nam started making his way towards us. “you get her warmed up, im gonna go find a weapon and maybe soemthing to block the door so we won’t die when i make her scream from fucking her so good” he said with a wide smirk while looking directly in my eyes and patted suhyeoks shoulder. “don’t try to leave shit heads. I’ll find you and kill you, i promise.”he threatened seriously while pointing at us and walked out the door to who knows where.

the vibe changed instantly. suhyeok stop teasing me and lifted his head back up to look at me. “is he telling the truth?” he spoke softly and gripped my hips. I sighed “… yes. i’m sorry.” i whispered and looked down. suhyeok gripped my chin in his fringers and looked me in my eyes “why??”

“he’s kinda hot..” i mumbled and shrugged making suhyeok scoff in annoyance. “it’s not like i would choose him. there’s fucking zombies out there ok? i didn’t even know if you were alive anymore!! i lost you so i ran in here and he just happened to be here and got me against the wall and i was gonna let him do it ok!?!! you’re not my boyfriend what the fuck does it matter to you?!” i said fed up. “you only treat me like a hook up and friend so why would i think of you when someone else is touching me.” i think i hit a nerve because as soon as that left my lips he spun me to face the mirror and yanked my skirt down.

“you have no idea the way you make me feel.” he growled and spread my legs open more. he looked at me in my eyes the mirror. he slid tow fingers up and down my slit feeling my wetness. “i don’t like that I might not have been the one that made you this wet” he muttered softly against my ear and shove the two fingers in my pussy. “i don’t like that I’ve been too much of a pussy to ask you you out and now I’m gonna have to share you with that fucker gwi nam or he kills us” he growled again and pumped his fingers in and out of me quickly.

“p-please, i promise never again” i whimpered out through my moans. he smacked my ass so hard im sure he left a hand print, i squeaked and stood up my on my tip toes because of the pleasure. i whined when he removed his fingers to undo his belt and drop his pants. he wrapped my long hair in his fist and yanked my head back exposing my neck. he kissed up my neck to my ear and slowly slid inside me. “you’re mine. no matter what happens when he gets back. you’re mine and you’re leaving with me.” he thrusted all the way inside me and groaned. I watched him in the mirror and bit my lip. he was so fucking sexy right now, i was so aroused and so thrown off guard by everything happening. not only was i about to get destroyed by the two sexiest men I’ve ever seen, but one of them just confessed their feelings to me. i just hope he knows i would choose him over anyone any day… especially this sexy asshole gwi that i feel shame for wanting to make me cry from torture and pleasure.

“yes, i promise” i moaned desperately and gripped the edge of the sink so hard i thought my knuckles would pop out. he was drilling into me so hard my head was spinning. he gripped my hair tighter and nibbled on my ear. “say my name.” he spat in my ear speeding up his thrusts.

“suhyeok.” I whispered out pathetically. it felt so good i couldn’t do anything but moan. he moved his free hand to reach around and rub my clit. “say it louder.” he he groaned in my ear and rubbed my clit vigorously. “suhyeok!! FUCK!” i screamed as tears filled my eyes from the pleasure.

“it’s my turn.” i barely heard gwi nams voice over the sound of suhyeok fucking the shit out of me in possession. possession i didn’t even know existed til now. gwi nam seemed irritated about what he walked into. he wanted me to be screaming for him. just him. “only fucking useful thing i found was this knife.” he said dropping it to the floor and stalking towards us. “but im more worried about something else right now.” he growled

suhyeok slowed his pace frustratedly. i watched his face in the mirror, his jaw was clenched but he seemed to have an ‘aha moment’ and he gave me a small smirk that made me tingle in excitement and curiosity. “just go with it, I’m not mad anymore.” he said quietly only for me to hear. he glanced over at the towel on the sink and went to pick it up. he laid it on the ground. “all fours. now.” Suhyeok demanded and i obliged immediately. i sank to the floor and got on my hands and knees with a smirk. even through the nerves i had never been more turned on in my life. i spread my legs and pressed my chest against the floor so my back was arched and my pussy was in full view.

i heard a deep growl and felt a rough bite on my ass. “i’m gonna fuck you so hard.” gwi nam promised once again while i heard his clothes coming off. “you’re gonna be begging for me to stop” he laughed tauntingly. Suhyeok walked over and got on his knees by my head. he grabbed my hair jerking my head up and the tip of his length poked at my lips. “open.” he demanded looking in my eyes, I obeyed and he slowly slid his dick in my mouth. he looked so good. his eyes half opened in pleasure, head tilted back and lips parted softly moaning while enjoying fucking my throat. “HHMmm” i moaned as i felt gwi nam forcefully thrust into me giving me no time to get used to him.

“where the fuck are you going Y/N?” he chuckled and grab my hips to keep me from running. he was bigger than suhyeok, i can’t lie. “fucking take it.” he grumbled and started thrusting deep and powerfully. “you like being treated like a fucking whore huh?? choking on dick and taking dick at the same time??” he moaned and scratched his nails down my back leaving marks. suhyeok stopped thrusting and held my head still and made me deep throat him. spit was dripping down my jaw and tears falling down my face.

“fuuuck, you’re so good” suhyeok moaned and looked at me in awe. “you look so pretty like that. with my dick down your throat.” he praised you while wiping tears away with his free hand. he slowly slid out of my throat to give me some air to which i was gasping for through my moans and the powerful thrusts from gwi nam. “so fucking beautiful.” he stroked his dick and admired my disheveled face.

“you’re so fucking wet.” gwi nam moaned and smacked my ass. he was continuously hitting my spot, making me scream out in pleasure. “you’re so fucking greedy.” he growled and huffed continuing to fuck me into oblivion while the person whose in love with me watched. “keeping such a good pussy away from me. you didn’t tell me huh?? Why??” He smacked my ass again but harder this time.

“i-i don’t… mm FUCK… i-“ i couldn’t even speak. he’s such an asshole but damn did he fuck me good. i feel guilty. suhyeok is just watching me and i can see the anger in his eyes. he knows he can’t stop it or we’ll die. i closed my eyes because if i kept looking at him i wouldn’t be able to enjoy this one time event. “spit it out slut” gwi nam demanded and grabbed my hair forcefully tanking my head back and pressing his lips against my ear and slowing down his thrusts.

“i - I’m sorry!” i cried out. “p-please don’t stop.” i moaned and begged without thinking of suhyeok. it was too late to care and i needed to cum so bad. my selfishness overpowered my guilt. but it’s not my fault suhyeok waited til the damn apocalypse to confess his feelings. i just need to forget it and enjoy the moment. gwi nam switched his pace back to no remorse and i screamed his name. i reached for suhyeok so that i could pleasure him again but he was gone. i was too lost in pleasure to worry about where he went. i started to throw my ass back on gwi, meeting his thrusts and he let out a deep and long moan.

“I’m in fucking charge.” He gripped my hips to keep them still and pounded into me over and over, i could feel myself reaching the explosive release i was dying for. “fucking cum bitch.” he growled and dipped his head to bite and suck on my neck, I’m sure to leave a mark. i felt such an overwhelming pleasure i hadn’t ever before. before i even knew it felt like electricity running through my veins and i couldn’t control my moans. i squirted on gwi nams dick and i felt him release inside me at the same time. i knew that wasn’t good but I’d worry about that consequence later. “FUCK.” he grunted loudly “such a good little bitch” he moaned and smirked looking down at the mess i made all over his lower half. he slowed his thrusts watching his dick go in and out of me slowly and listening to the wet sound that was caused from him taking me with no mercy. “i bet that fuck head never made you squirt” he boasted and pulled me back into him roughly so he was back inside me. “i want to make you do that again” he said nonchalantly.

“in your fucking dreams” i heard suhyeok say out of nowhere. “What the fuc-?” gwi nam barely got a word out before i heard a thud and another thud as i felt gwi nam slide out of me making me shiver.

“come on. let’s get the fuck out of here.”Suhyeok threw my clothes at me.

“where’d you go?” i said tiredly

“since I’m the one with morals here, i went and found something to knock his ass out with so we could get the fuck away from the that psycho.” he said frustratedly “so come on” he said while helping me put my skirt back on as i buttoned what was left of the buttons on my shirt. “next time he’s dead and you won’t stop me.” he spoke seriously and grabbed my chin so he could look directly in my eyes. “he’s an asshole. i might fuck you like a slut but i will love you like a Queen.” he stated and kissed me sweetly. “now let’s get the fuck away from here before that psycho wakes up.”

i don’t know what’s stranger. the flesh eating zombies or the fact that i just got fucked by my school bully and best friend with benefits and it made him confess his feelings for me and almost kill someone. i didn’t know what would happen or where we were going, but i knew i had made my decision. i i just hoped gwi nam would never find us again.

#aouad #yoon gwi nam x reader #gwi nam x reader #lee suhyeok #gwi nam #lee suhyeok x reader #all of us are dead #gwi nam smut #lee suhyeok smut #aouad smut #yoo in soo #park solomon

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thegodwithin · 3 years

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hi! im kind of new to law of assumption and old to law of attraction. law of assumption is not a hard concept but im a bit confused. i find myself reacting to the 3D too much and like i find it hard to persist? what do i do to make persisting easier? i think it’s because i don’t know much about what im getting into?? all i know is affirm and persist and etc. i hear things like time is an illusion, the 3D is an illusion, circumstances don’t matter, we are all gods of our reality. but WHERES the proof?? i can’t blindly follow people’s success stories because im not them and if we are truly the gods of our realities, doesn’t that mean someone else can manifest failure in mine? like i want to use law of assumption and i want to believe to get what I want fast and easily BUT i want to know how it works and that im not following a delusion to make myself feel better and in the end, I am just left with disappointment and failed attempts at manifesting that left me with the consequences of my actions. ive been in the community for almost 2 years and i don’t think ive ever gotten results. i am not usually agitated but it’s exhausting. i affirm and persist and nothing shows up and im worried im doing it all wrong so i ask and now I’m even affirming wrong?? I know manifestation is supposed to be easy and not feel like a chore but how can it not when everything I desire is of so much importance to me. I can even dm you, just please help me so I can actually manifest what I want. I’ve done self concept but I keep breaking. I don’t even know what affirmations to use to combat my limiting beliefs. Tbh I’m tired. I feel like if someone explained to me how this works and how to do it with no mistakes and how to keep faith in the unseen, I could actually get what I want. I keep failing and failing because I affirm and persist but I affirm wrong or I have a limiting belief that hasn’t been uncovered yet. I’m so exhausted and I just want to get what I want. I just feel like if someone told me how it works and exactly what to do, I wouldn’t be so confused and find it hard to persist.

Hey, so I just want to say that I really understand you. It’s funny how as I read your ask for the first time it really stood out to me how it was reflecting my current state at that moment so thank you for sending it. I will try my best to answer your questions but I'm still figuring this stuff out myself so I'm also just going to recommend some material that should help. I’ll put all the links at the end of the reply.

I have broken up your ask into several different topics and I’ll be addressing each one separately so please bear with me here.

This is the longest reply I've ever written so the rest is under the cut

law of assumption is not a hard concept but im a bit confused.

i think it’s because i don’t know much about what im getting into?? all i know is affirm and persist and etc.

I just feel like if someone told me how it works and exactly what to do, I wouldn’t be so confused and find it hard to persist.

The first and most important thing I want to say to you is that you should really learn from the source material, which as far as I’m concerned here is Neville Goddard. I know there are other teachers like him but he’s the main source most blogs and youtubers make their content from. And frankly a lot of posts on tumblr seem to really simplify and reduce things to the point where you get to this idea that it’s all just affirming and persisting which I really can’t agree with. That’s a conclusion one can reach after learning this stuff, processing it, experimenting with it and realizing what works best for them. But there are certainly other factors involved in the process, whether the person was aware of them or not. This also goes for youtubers and coaches in general. All these people are speaking based on their own experiences with the law. Through the lenses of their own beliefs, limitations, etc. So it’s only natural that they will sound different from each other and their message and style might not resonate with every person in the same way. Which is why you’re not supposed to just accept everything you hear or read at face value. Apply it, experiment with it and make your own conclusions.

like i want to use law of assumption and i want to believe to get what I want fast and easily BUT i want to know how it works and that im not following a delusion to make myself feel better and in the end, I am just left with disappointment and failed attempts at manifesting that left me with the consequences of my actions. ive been in the community for almost 2 years and i don’t think ive ever gotten results.

Most of us come into contact with the law from a negative situation and looking for a quick fix, and what we end up finding is a whole lot more than we ever bargained for. These teachings challenge everything we have ever known and accepted as absolute unchangeable truths in the world. And we are also dared to accept the responsibility that we were the cause of our entire lives?! It’s a lot to take in. You can’t be one foot in and one foot out. You’re trying to manifest something but you’re not seeing results. If you’re looking for results then you weren’t truly committed to living in the end and you haven’t really changed. You must notice the change within first, before the outside world can reflect that. You just give yourself what you want in your mind, and you keep doing it, day in and day out, with complete disregard for what your outer senses are telling you, until it hardens into a fact.

i find myself reacting to the 3D too much and like i find it hard to persist? what do i do to make persisting easier?

Battling with the 3d can certainly be painful and it just turns into a vicious cycle, because the more attention you pay to something, the more it gets perpetuated in your reality and in your experiences. I’ll be honest with you, sometimes I struggle with this as well. If anything, at least remember to prioritize your feelings at every given moment. If you notice that you’re feeling bad / reacting negatively to the 3d, stop and ask yourself: what do I want? or what do I want to feel?

Usually when I do that my mind automatically shows me the answer and then if I can enter the reality (within me, in my mind with my thoughts and feelings) where those things are true, suddenly that circumstance I was just reacting to doesn’t matter anymore. Because I feel fulfilled within now.

Just start allowing yourself to have what you want, no matter what. Practice putting yourself first, before anything else, before the circumstances around you, before what others might say or do. Even if the 3d looks bad right now, you deserve to feel what you want, you don’t have to keep putting yourself down because you haven’t seen an outside change yet. And the truth is that you won’t see a change if you keep watching the 3d and taking score from it. Because it can only change after you do. Because it’s a reflection of you. Allow yourself to feel that relief and satisfaction, in your imagination, everyday. Make it a habit and little by little you will have changed your mindset, entering a new reality.

Everything in your 3d world is an illusion in the sense that it’s not the truth. And this is because everything that you experience with your senses, in your 3d world is a direct reflection of you. You are everything, and you are everywhere you go and every person you meet. You can only ever experience yourself, nothing else. Nothing exists outside of you. Everything begins and ends with you.

and if we are truly the gods of our realities, doesn’t that mean someone else can manifest failure in mine?

You are God of your own reality. There’s only you in your reality. Nothing else and no one else. So everything and everyone that shows up is under your influence. IN YOUR REALITY. You can’t really access other people’s realities or inner worlds, and likewise they can’t reach yours. Even what you perceive as things outside of you pertaining to other people’s lives and experiences are still coming in through your own lenses, of the concept you have of that person, of the expectations and beliefs you have about them. This is why you shouldn’t bother with anything but yourself. Because it’s a waste of energy. Because everything you will ever perceive will come through you first. You can’t experience anything but yourself, your beliefs and your expectations. If you believe others can influence your reality then you are living from fear and you are giving your power away.

i hear things like time is an illusion, the 3D is an illusion, circumstances don’t matter, we are all gods of our reality. but WHERES the proof??

Instead of trying to manifest things in order to “see proof”, just let things happen and watch yourself during the process. Start really paying attention to what you’re thinking and feeling on a daily basis. Notice that your thoughts and reactions come from a certain state of being. Notice how people act in ways that you expect them to, because “that’s just how they are”.No, it’s because that’s the concept you hold of them in your reality, and they treat you according to the concept you hold of yourself. By doing this you will start to realize the connection between what has shown up in your life so far, and the person you were identifying with within. And when I say identifying with, I don’t mean something like an affirmation such as “I’m confident”. Your identification and basically your self concept comes from your perspective, the way you see things, the way you react to things and the way you act, the thoughts you have and what you accept as true. Those will show you who you really are.

i can’t blindly follow people’s success stories because im not them

The thing with success stories is that as much as they can be motivational, the process and the factors are always the same. They succeeded because they managed to change their mindset, they entered a new reality (within), they changed their dwelling place (the state of being they return to the most) and their outer reality simply reflected that change. Their circumstances are irrelevant and the only thing setting them apart is the techniques they used and how long it took for them to actually shift their mindset and accept the new reality they wanted. Techniques are not really that relevant because they only serve to aid you into moving states. So at this point it’s really just about what works best for you.

i affirm and persist and nothing shows up and im worried im doing it all wrong so i ask and now I’m even affirming wrong??

There’s no such thing as affirming wrong. And please take affirming off the pedestal. It’s just a technique and you don’t need to use it if it’s troubling you. Affirmations are just thoughts you would be having if you were living in the end. So their purpose is only to help make you feel like you are living in the wish fulfilled. There’s no point in affirming all day long if you keep feeling like you’re in the same old shitty reality. Again it’s the same thing I’ve been saying before. You can’t affirm for two opposite things at the same time and get the result you want. Use affirmations as much as you like but watch yourself for the rest of the time.

The reason this isn’t a trying process is because you’re not attempting to do anything to get something. You are simply being in a different way. You are changing your mind, changing your thoughts, choosing better feelings. This is a lifestyle change. If you accept the law, your entire perception changes. Nothing is ever the same as it used to be. This can be a hard pill to swallow but at some point you gotta be honest with yourself. There is no trying. There is only doing and there is only being.

i am not usually agitated but it’s exhausting.

I’m so exhausted and I just want to get what I want

You’re exhausted because you keep going back and forth between what you want and what has shown up. You need to pick one side and stick to it. You need to dive so deep into the feeling of what you want to the point where thinking the opposite feels unnatural. I know you don’t wanna hear this but thinking you’re doing something wrong really is also getting in your way. Think about it this way: you’re in the end goal, you’re there, it’s done, you got it. Would you be thinking about ANY of this stuff if that was the case? Would you be doubting and having all these fears and looking around everyday to make sure it’s still there? We both know you wouldn’t.

You just can’t have it and wonder where it is at the same time. You have to stick to the end goal and reject anything that contradicts that.

I know manifestation is supposed to be easy and not feel like a chore but how can it not when everything I desire is of so much importance to me

People say manifesting is easy and fun because you’re just supposed to satisfy yourself within by giving yourself what you want. If it feels like a chore then you're not giving yourself what you really want. You are focusing on what you think you should be doing and you are also keeping yourself hostage to your unwanted circumstances. If your desires are so important to you then stop putting conditions on them, stop looking for excuses to deny yourself of them. Get drunk in the feeling and the knowing of their fulfilment. Let go of all the doubts and fears, turn your back on your senses telling you it’s not here yet. Be stubborn and stop taking no for an answer.

You’re coming from a place of: I have all these unwanted circumstances and I want to have xyz instead, but no matter what I do, things aren't changing.

If you had xyz by now, would you still be repeating the unwanted circumstances in your head? Would you be thinking about them? Would you be reacting to them? Would you be identifying with this version of yourself that can’t get what you want?

No! You would be living your life, doing the things you enjoy, your duties and responsibilities, resting in the knowledge that you got that desire. It’s a reality now. It’s part of your life. You’d be living from that perspective.

You're keeping the unwanted stuff in place by reaffirming them, by looking at it everyday and going “yep, still here!”, you’re still accepting it as true for you. You can’t keep your attention on something without getting more of it. You need to die to the unwanted reality. Never to be seen again.

I’ve done self concept but I keep breaking.

Self concept is not a technique that you do once a day. Self concept is who you are. It’s how you behave and what you think all the time, every day, all day. It's what you believe and accept as true for you in all aspects. I think this community has been breaking up the law into bits and pieces, as if there are all these separate factors and steps you need to take, and it’s done more damage than good because it’s actually literally all the same thing, it’s all connected. Once you change through the means of one aspect, the other aspects change automatically. Self concept, mental diet, states, it’s all connected, they all lead to the same destination, you. Neville uses these terms interchangeably, to get his point across in the best way he sees fit at that moment, but he’s always talking about the same thing. So bottomline is that if you “keep breaking”, then you’re still in the process of change, you’re going from one state to the other, from unwanted to wanted. Back and forth. You’re still falling for the illusion of the 3d world and you’re still feeling the pull of your old story. You need to take a stand and decide that enough is enough. No longer accept what you don’t want. You’re the only one making the choice here. No one is forcing you to stay in the unwanted mindset but your own habits and comfort zone.

I don’t even know what affirmations to use to combat my limiting beliefs. Tbh I’m tired. I keep failing and failing because I affirm and persist but I affirm wrong or I have a limiting belief that hasn’t been uncovered yet.

Look, there’s nothing to combat here. There’s no war going on. It’s all just you. You don’t have any blocks or limiting beliefs you need to overpower. This isn’t a good perspective to hold. You ARE the power. I fought these types of statements for a long time but I can understand it now. You need to stop focusing on limiting beliefs or blocks. Stop thinking AND believing that you have problems that are getting in your way and that you need to overcome them. By holding this perspective, you’re only going to create more problems to overcome. Remember what I’ve been saying that you’re in the end now? Are there any blocks in the end? When the wish is fulfilled? I don’t think so and neither do you! I want you to take the challenge to declare to yourself that you no longer have any limitations. It’s all gone! You’re free now! I want you to wake up everyday and before you get out of bed, you remind yourself that hey, all that stuff is gone now! Nothing to worry about anymore! How good is that?!

I feel like if someone explained to me how this works and how to do it with no mistakes and how to keep faith in the unseen, I could actually get what I want.

You keep the faith in the unseen by believing and trusting in yourself. If you accept that you can do anything, that you deserve what you want, that you are the operant power and that everything is coming FROM you, then you know all you need is yourself. Idk it truly is a leap of faith, you need to make a choice. Do you want to live by what is outside of you, or by what’s within you? If you accept the law as true, then you have no choice but to start living by what’s within you. If you’re still sitting there thinking that your world is ruled by the circumstances outside of you then you don’t believe a tiny bit in any of this stuff. You’re truly wasting your time if you hold that perspective in place.

Okay I hope this whole essay I spent hours on helps! Now let’s get you those recs!

You can read most if not all of Neville's work for free here: https://realneville.com/

These are my current favorite Neville Based Teachers:

I am Love / Feeling Twisty (he's also on apple podcasts and spotify I believe)

Here's my own personal playlist of Neville based videos on youtube

There's a LOT of good stuff on reddit tbh, here's pretty much everything I have saved from there:

(ps.: it's good to check the comments on reddit posts because there's usually discussions happening and you can find some good pointers)

EdwardArtSupplyHands Series / Quote

ALLISMIND:

Feelings are your power

How thoughts and beliefs become reality

Overthinking

Superman's way of life

Thinking positive

Living from the Law

There's no reality

You don't believe in the Law

Nothing will change your mind

(ps.: he has A LOT of content, these are just the few I looked into)

Other posts:

Change your mind

It's Real. Success Story

Decide what you want

Self concept and personality

Self concept and self love

Letting go of control

Don't rationalize it

The state of the wish fulfilled

Checkmate 3D

Planting the seeds

Don't react

Faith and Knowledge

Slacker Manifesting

Persistence assumption

Don't complicate it

All you need is reassurance

Brazen Impudence

Manifesting is easy

Practical guide

Why circumstances don't matter

Commit to your desire

Ignore the Outside

Clarifying the Law for beginners

(ps.: These aren't 100% accurate tittles, just based on the actual tittles)

#law of assumption #neville goddard #answered asks #o #tag

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berryblissbby · 3 years

Text

Fiercest; devoted;

Pairing: Princess!reader x Guard/Warrior! Hajime Iwaizumi

Word Count: 9,500

Warnings: Use of blades and knives

A/N: Sooo this is the longest thing I've ever posted on tumblr and one of the longest fics I've ever written. Ive only even written a handful of things to completion before so please be kind (⩾﹏⩽). I'm currently reading TOG and this story was born from me trying to process HOF so if you see some parallels just look away! This is fanfic we borrow, not steal. And finally I must say, must I write a plot? Can’t they just learn to tenderly love each other in the end?

AND! AND! Here's the pinterest board i made for this fic, i'm so sorry that all the references are white people omg, pinterest has shit diversity.

Summary:

The moonlight won’t let you forget, the sunlight brightens the truth.

You are his princess, and he is your warrior. Raised together Hajime is your greatest source of comfort when he suddenly pulls away, igniting your temper and flaring animosity towards each other. Either under the light of the moon, or the rays of the sun, you’ll fight it out, just like always.

You were the princess of an empire. Heir of the kingdom that was the pinnacle of learning, healing and safety for anyone who wished to stay there. Books, music, and art were all treasured, and culture was allowed to thrive and breathe. Your court was beloved, held strong by devotion and loyalty, “the strongest court in the world” the people said. You were loved as well, by your parents and their people. Adored, you were their future.

Hajime was a lesser by his kingdom's terms. In a kingdom of magic wielders, he was unwanted nobility. So he was sent to you, to your kingdom, where compared to your human court, with a little magical blood in him, he would be strong. He was to be your guard, to keep you safe, and when you were ready to rule your bond would be unbreakable.

You were nine and he was thirteen . Delightfully shy- to adults- you lacked true friends. Hiding behind your mother, father or nursemaid, you could be found with your nose in a book. Even at celebrations it was the same, unless you convinced your mother or father to dance with you, much to everyone’s joy.

But then you had Hajime, and even though you were scared, with red rung hands and shifting eyes, he danced with you. Uncoordinated and silly, gentle smiles turning to grins and grins to giggles, you landed on the floor in a heap of laughter. Everyone could tell- when you were with him your timidness melts, and is met with ferocious quips and laughter full of love- that you would grow to be a shining queen. You didn’t worry, your child princess self, because when you were sat on your heaviest burden, your own little throne, he would be behind you. With his chest puffed up, his daggers sharpened and shining. Already your fiercest warrior and most devoted protector.

You grew together, his dark eyes were always watching you, blanketing you in warmth. When you learned how to fight and hold a dagger correctly he practiced with you, until your coordination and form were perfect. When you were strong enough for a sword he was right there as well, much to the captain of the guards dismay. You practiced together, but he never let you win. It was infuriating, his determined expression and unrelenting jabs. But “it’s for your own good” and you knew you'd best him one day.

He snuck into your room, when your chambers were too big, and the darknesses fingers too long. He stayed in the chair in the corner, and listened to you talk until your words slurred and you fell asleep. Your maids usually find him still there, curled up, in the morning.

He was right beside you when you learned how to ride a horse by yourself at ten years old, with shaky hands and gasping breaths. And when you fell off- the one and only time- he picked you right off the ground, dusted off your dress, and growled at the stable master.

He wiped the tears off your face as fast as they fell. Your little hands gripping the front of his shirt begging him not to leave.

Hajime pulled you to his chest, shushing you again. It was awkward, just two little kids clinging to each other, one barely old enough to comfort the other. But you needed him nonetheless.

He was right there the day you got it, hanging off the rails of the round pin, pumping his fist in triumph as you and your horse trotted in circles.

Looking over, a grin breaking across your face, you met his own grin. It sent shivers down your spine, blooming in your tummy. You could see it, with that feral grin on his face, you understood what type of man he would be. He truly was a warrior.

He stood behind you when you first attended state meetings with your father, against the wall with the other guards. You had been terrified. You hadn’t known, really, what they were talking about, and you had been scared that they would ask you questions you wouldn’t know the answer to. But Hajime was there, and that made your words a little more steady.

He was eighteen and you fourteen, budding into adolescence, and it seemed to be everyone’s business. He was turning into a man and you couldn’t help but notice, not that you would ever speak of it.

He was leading you horse, walking you around the gardens. He liked to pick and choose when you should be treated as a princess. With swords in your hands he tended to ignore it, but at times like these, you were an heiress and he was an indentured servant.

“I don’t understand”

“It’s a tragedy, it's supposed to make you sad!” You say. “It’s about the ‘what if’s’ and the yearning, you have to focus on the yearning.” You giggle at your words, as you drag out your syllables.

You were telling him about your latest book, and how it had left you heart broken for the two lovers. With bad timing, and greedy people stealing their chances at love, they could never be together.

You always told Hajime about your books, you couldn’t help talking about the ones that you couldn’t get out of your head. He was an amazing listener, and you appreciated him dearly for it. Even though his face would remain blank and his eyes would shift all around you, looking for threats, he would always pay attention.

He scoffed. “ Well, what if I don’t care about yearning, what if they’re just stupid? The answer was right in front of them.”

“That’s not the point Hajime,” you pout.

He scowls up at you, stopping your horse.

“What?” You can’t help but laugh at both of your dramatics.

“Just don’t let me catch you doing anything dumb like that,” he doesn’t let you answer, starting your horse walking again. ¨Idiots.¨

¨Hajime!¨

You appreciate him, in every sense, always protecting you, in body and soul.

He was twenty and you sixteen. Your temper was epic, it shook the stone walls and snapped as easily as the ribbons on your dresses. But your heart was just as easily broken. You were a slave to your emotions and you could feel it, festering in you. You would never let it show to the court, but your family knew, and so did Hajime. There was little left of the girl who used to hide behind skirts.

You didn´t know if it was a gradual process, or if you woke up to it one day, but suddenly you couldn´t stop watching him. You couldn´t stop admiring him. He was so big, and strong, and he made you laugh so hard. His hands were soft, and large. He was smart, catching things you hadn’t in meetings, and his voice would send shivers down your spine when he whispered in your ear, telling you things about the people you were surrounded by. Things that he had learned to keep you safe; precautions. You couldn't stop your cheeks from heating up anymore, they were perpetually flushed, and it was impossible to hold his gaze. Things that wouldn't have mattered before made you stutter. But what set you off, was when you would look up to him, when you expected to meet those cool eyes, they would be somewhere else.

Before, when you had been upset, you would drag Hajime to the training rooms and throw him a sword. He would let you get a few hits in, before winning, of course. But only after you got everything you needed out. He was the cool water to your raging disposition. He had a sternness to him now, even though his fiery character could rival yours sometimes, he knew when to hold back. And when he did, his easy answers and cool voice were equally frustrating as they were calming. You shared more together while in those practice rooms swinging swords than anywhere else. But now you had lost the thing that had made it better.

Now you only saw him when mandatory, behind your throne and next to you at meals. He seemed to be more interested in the guards and other warriors than you, so you ate in silence and read alone at night. You eventually requested a new guard, and your parents said no. You two were friends, and he was sent here for you, that would not be changing overnight. But he didn't feel like your Hajime anymore, your friend or defender. Because he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, not like he was supposed to. Or how you wanted him too.

It made you burn when you looked up and he wasn't looking at you. The embers in your chest that would flare when you didn't get your way, when someone disagreed with you, when Hajime said something brash, were a roaring fire. You didn't understand why things had changed, where it had come from.

You saw it, when his eyes met the older courtiers- well, older compared to you. You saw the eyes of the women on him, how they trailed over his broad back and strong arms. You knew that the lady’s had started taking their walks through the section of the palace they had previously thought of as unpalatable. They would bat their eyelashes and fan their fans in front of them as they walked past the training rooms, hoping to catch Hajime in only a thin damp shirt. It was infuriating.

You took to ignoring him, long lonely months. It was intense, the war between you both, silently throwing glances at each other, both sets of eyes holding promises of worse words to come. He was a weight behind you at all times, dragging your heart deeper into a pit of solitary despair. He left you whenever he could afford, never letting your parents or the other guards see. You were kept safe, but it wasn’t comforting like before. The walks to your rooms after dinner were the worst, the internal battle inside you was tearing you to shreds. Should you talk to him? Confront him? Bear a dagger and rough it out? But he would leave you by your door and walk away before you could decide anything at all.

You had burned too bright, the fire in you now gone. The fury that had kept you warm was nothing but a cold pit in your chest.

You were all alone, every day that knowledge split you open like a cold blade. You were determined to stay away from him, to not bother him, since he obviously didn’t want anything to do with you. But one day, it all became too much.

You had attended a dinner tonight, with a distant royal family. And they had said things to you that they had no right to say. They had spoken as if they had known you. They knew things about you that made your skin crawl. All of those things were somewhat common knowledge, but then they had started making assumptions about you, asking you things that if you were a queen you would have known the answers to. But you weren’t, you were a stupid little princess, with no one. And you felt so small.

The only thing that made it worse was when you realized you were bracing for something. After every one of their comments, you were waiting for one of Hajime's raging blows. For him let his temper go, just a little. To tell them how it was, to defend you. But it didn’t come, you looked over and he wasn’t paying attention. What happened to your warrior? Your watcher? Your protector?

You remembered a conversation between you and Hajime, before. It was late at night, Hajime was laying on the rug in front of your heart, his arm thrown over his eyes. Your book set to the side.

The candles had all burned low, but the fire stood strong. It casted a blood orange glow across half of his body, the other half a stark blue. You didn’t know if he was asleep, and took your time admiring him.

The side away from you, from your vantage point lounging on the couch, was flushed. His mouth was pulled down slightly, but it didn’t scare you. That looked like you’re Hajime, with sharp teeth and a barking laugh. Who felt everything thrown at him.

You didn’t know how he hid it so well, but he really did experience everything; he might conceal it, but it was in there.

You looked at the other side of him, the one in a cold blue light from the moon coming in your windows. You wondered if that was what other people saw, the straight backed man, who knew who he was and what he stood for.

You said his name gently, he grunted in response.

“Do you remember… that tragedy I read years ago, about the two lovers…” you explained a little more, trailing off.

He took a deep breath saying, “ yes, with the idiots.”

You don’t bother hiding your pursed lips before you say, “what… what would you do in their situation, since they’re such idiots.” You pluck at a thread on the couch, not looking at him.

From your peripheral vision you could see him turn his head to look at the flames, and suddenly a wave of anxiety hits you, you're scared to know his real answer, his honest one.

You get up and walk to the window, and the stark difference in temperature makes you shudder. It was starting to snow, just barely. The moon was so bright, causing the gardens below your window to glow. The marble walkways mirroring back the moon.

“I would…” you look back at him, with a hand still on the window sill, and almost gasp. “I would run too, because I wouldn’t know any better, just like them.” He had sat up and turned away from the fire, his whole front blue and cold.

You couldn’t stand the window anymore, and went to sit by the hearth.

You think he’s run. He’s carried himself as far away from you as he can without abandoning his responsibilities. The gap between you is the largest thing you have ever felt. A dark ravine, and on the other side was him, with his back turned to you. Everything is blue, the moon won’t let you forget, it refuses to shroud out the light, so you can’t remain ignorant. You hate it. And every day, you come closer and closer to falling into that deep crack in the earth, reaching out your arms, stretching your fingers, feeling the rocks shift under your feet, pebbles falling into the dark pit, maybe to never hit the bottom.

You couldn’t calm yourself even hours later, your mind would go back to dinner when you tried to read, and you couldn’t sleep. Sometimes, when it was too late to brandish swords or you were too young to hold one, Hajime and you would walk the palace halls. Running from guards not to be caught, jumping on chairs in forgotten sitting rooms, daring each other to grab things from the kitchen. All before putting his grumpy cool mask back on and escorting you back to your rooms. But you never dared walk the halls yourself, you were always too scared. Hajime... Hajime, he would always take you, and make you feel better.

You had been pacing your rooms, trying to find a way to fix your hurt. Trying to come up with any solution. Sitting down on your bed, you put your head in your hands, pleading with the tears not to fall. You wanted him to make you feel better again, you wanted to feel safe with him behind you, not cold and unwanted.

You didn't know what to do, really, you told yourself as you snuck your way into his rooms, holding your breath the whole way there, still scared. Closing the door behind you you leaned against it, and for a moment, it felt like before. He smelled the same and the room was so warm it made you shiver in satisfaction. But he was a warrior, so your moment of peace didn’t last long as he rolled over, almost reaching for a weapon before he realized who you were.

You tried smiling, but seeing him like that, with his dark hair messy, and cheeks ruddy from sleep just hurt you more. You couldn’t stop the quiver in your lip.

“You've been crying,” he said, pushing himself off the bed slightly. You tried not to watch the blanket fall off his shoulders.

Nodding, you turn your head, wiping away tears with your wrist, not looking him in the eyes. You took a moment, trying to calm yourself and almost took a step towards him, but you caught yourself. That made the tears come faster. If things had been like before, you would have ran to him. You won't have hesitated, you wouldn't be bracing for something foul to come out of his mouth.

But those things didn't matter, not when he finally sat up and opened his arms letting you throw yourself at him.

He rocked you back and forth, pulling you onto his lap, cooing at you. “What’s wrong, what’s the matter my princess.” The vibrato in his voice echoed through you, made you want to melt, but it was also painfully familiar.

His kind words only made you cry harder. How long had it been since you had heard him speak to you at all? And it had to have been even longer since he had been kind to you like this, only reserved for when you were totally alone, and desperately in need.

There was so much wrong, but you could only find it in yourself to shrug. He let out a scoff. Pulling you back, you tried to hide your face, but he grabbed your chin to make you look up. He swiped a thumb under your eye, catching a falling tear. You almost smiled at his frown, how you had missed it, when it only promised light scolding, not cruel disregard.

“I j-just... want you t-to m-make me feel better,” the last word comes out in another desperate sob and he pulled you to him again.

He hummed saying, “Don't tell me someone did this to you.”

You shake your head, burying your face in his chest. You didn't want to face the truth, that he had been so neglectful that he really hadn't seen what had happened at dinner.

“Let's get you to bed, okay?”

You desperately nod, you had missed this so much. You had missed his kindness so much. You almost felt like little kids again, and he led you through the dim hallways clutching your hand. Like when you had first met.

You woke up alone.

Cold, sober reality washed over you like water, slithering down your spine. Oh. Things were not back to before. You hated Before, it taunted you. It laughed at you as you broke each time the word crossed your mind. Before was better, the most shining and brilliant version of what you had lost.

He was escorting you across the castle, and you battled with yourself again. Just like always but worse, now that you knew he was still in there. The contrast ached more. You almost didn't say anything, but you passed by a set of windows and happened to look outside.

It was spring, almost summer, and everything was green again. The hills outside rippled as the green grass swayed. Beyond the grass were wildflowers. You wish you and Hajime could ride out there and lay in them. But you couldn't- or, he wouldn’t.

That makes you stop for some reason, and you walk up to the window looking out. He stops too, remaining behind you.

“Hajime,” You say quietly. He doesn't say anything, facing forward.

He wouldn’t look at you. He refused until you grabbed him as hard as you could with your little hands, not holding back when your nails dug into his wrist and forearm.

He tried pulling back, but you wouldn’t let him. Grabbing one of your wrists he made you yield.

“I’m not... we’re not going to talk about this, not yet,” he said the words with shifting eyes, not able to meet yours for too long. “I can’t.”

You had never minded him when he was his serious self, because you would always see the loving side of him eventually. When you were alone, when it mattered. But this, the firm cold shoulder, it wasn’t the protective one you were used to, it was cruel.

“Well,” you spit out, ripping your wrist from his grip, “ when you can finally tell me your secret, it better be important, because right now I don’t appreciate being ignored- ignored and...” you struggled to find the right words, your chin quivering, eyes filling with tears. Unloved? Unprotected?

“Whatever this is,” you gesture at him, the venom in your voice dissipating with each syllable. Until each blink yielded more tears.

¨You´re dismissed,¨ you tell him, you could make it to tea just fine by yourself.

You were furious, angry, livid. The only thing that dosed the ever flaming embers in your chest was the announcement your father made. You had known it was coming, but him telling everyone solidified it.

He had called you and Hajime to his private rooms a few nights before, you two had met in front of the door.

You were to decide which member of your court would take the oath to be your protector and advisor. Everyone knew it was going to be Hajime, but sometimes a ruler didn't have such loyal followers, and they would choose from a selection. But your father wanted to follow tradition and tell you properly. You had come of age, it would be time for you to take up more responsibility, and this was the first step.

You could feel him standing next to you, facing your father and mother where they sat. The emers in you were doused, replaced by a rush of freezing water that contrasted your hot tears. You couldn't imagine spending the rest of your life like this. You would be a horrible queen if this was the future that awaited you.

Before he made his oath to you, there was to be your birthday celebration. A frantic day of eating, receiving gifts and dancing. Who would you dance with?

Tight lipped, you thanked your parents and walked out. You could hear Hajime behind you, and you didn't try to quiet your ragged breathing as the tears flowed.

They had threatened to fall when your father stood up at dinner and told your court.

It was your birthday, you hadn't danced with Hajime, and you always danced with Hajime. Everytime you could, you let your face relax and your smile melted away. You were exhausted. But someone asked you to dance.

The man no older than Hajime, with fluffy brown hair and beautiful brown eyes, asked you with a hypnotizing smile. He spun you around and said the most outrageous things in your ears, you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face.

You would pass a couple and he would share their most treacherous secrets. Nothing too bad, just outlandish enough that you would blush and want to hit him- only lightly.

He asked you again and again, until you finally had to say no, your face was hot, your skin was covered in a layer of perspiration and you were sure that your hair had fallen out of its updo.

You made your way back to your seat on the dais, next to your parents. You didn't realize that Hajime had moved from his spot on the wall, blending in with the other guards, to stand behind you.

Taking a seat, you hear a scoff. Straightening your back you almost don't believe it. Maybe it was the exercise, or the fact that you were feeling loose after laughing so hard. Or maybe it was because you were actually having fun, but you found that tonight- tonight you had energy.

You could feel it in your chest, that scoff has blown a harsh wind over those embers, fanning them a glowing orange.

“Yes, Hajime,” you say, slightly turning your head in his direction. You tried to keep your tone light.

He grunted, not saying anything. You place your hands in your lap. He won't even give you words.

“Tell me,” you say, face blank, friendly tone gone.

“Nothing, Princess.”

How dare he scoff at you and pretend you were the crazy one.

You spun in your seat. There he was, in his nice uniform, with your kingdom's mascot and colors. Your mascot and colors. Your kingdom's mascot and colors. The kingdoms that you would rule, mascot and colors.

The blades strapped around him were intricate; polished and shrap. He looked straight forward, not acknowledging you. He looks good, something inside of your chest whispered, but was whisked away as your eyes caught on the dagger on his belt, with the same color jews as his uniform

You stood up in a flurry, so fast that he only had time to brace himself before you were grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to your level. Nails digging into him all the while.

“Follow me,” you say through gritted teeth. Pulling back looking him in the eyes, you tell him exactly what he needed to know. It was an order, an order from his future ruler. The exchange was so fast you knew no one would see it.

Spinning on your heel you walked down the dais and straight into the crowd of dancing people as they desperately tried to not step on you.

“Princess,” Your father said from his seat behind you. You knew he was objecting at your rudeness, but you didn't care, the act of disobedience spurring you on. You hear the music halt, only for a second, but you keep moving.

You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you made your way further and further towards the doors out of the hall. Each breath wasn’t enough oxygen, and your vision spotted, but the chills rippling over your skin were addicting.

You knew Hajime was behind you.

You didn't answer any of his furious remarks as you grabbed his forearm, dragging him through the palace. You turned down a certain hall and he stopped talking.

You threw open the doors of the practice hall, letting go of Hajime’s arm. Marching down the long open space, so big it could probably hold dozens of bodies, you open one of the cabinets across from the row of tall windows. The room was dim, and you don´t think of lighting candles.

Selecting two swords, you slide one to him across the floor, to where he stood still at the door. He stopped it carefully with his boot, as it spun towards him.

Looking up from the sword, he says, ”No.”

“Pick up the sword, Hajime,” You say from across the room, sword in your hand. You’re not sure why you threw it at him, he already had one on his hip. Maybe because it was unfair, that he could always have one and you could not.

He scoffed at you, leaving it on the ground.

“Pick it up,” You growled.

He didn't have time to roll his eyes before the twin dagger to the one on his belt landed in the door frame, next to his head.

You watched his eyes flick to your hand, smoothing out your skirts, hiding the slit that led to your thigh. You switched your sword back to your dominant hand, breathing already ragged, not looking away from those sharp eyes as he picked the sword off the ground.

You stayed exactly where you were as he walked towards you.

“You are b-”

“I don't want to hear any of what you have to say about my behavior.”

He rolled his eyes, stopping in front of you, getting into his proper stance. You mimicked him.

“You are being a brat.”

You swing for him, and he easily blocks, sending your sword arcing through the air, still in your hand. He sends a shallow jab at you, which you take a step back from.

“What right do you have judging the people I spend my time with?” You say, jabbing right back at him, which he blocks with a sweep of his sword. “And when am I not?”

You go for his left, which he dodges, and as he came around spinning to face you again, he swung low at the wide skirts of your dress. You hear it rip and feel the cold air hit your calves. Taking two steps back he observes you, lowering his sword, intentions clear.

He thought that would end your little fight.

He thought that the ruining of your dress would make you stop, that you were shallow enough to ask for his mercy just because of a tear in your skirts. It made you furious, knowing he wasn't taking this seriously.

You feint lunging at him, he swung from the right, and you blocked, swords suspended in the air for just a moment.

“Stop it.” You say, voice almost a whisper.

You grunt and pull back. Circling each other, you watch as the moonlight brightens his face. The circling continues, and no words are exchanged, giving you time to think about what had been said, only making you more upset.

You had faults, in moments like these, you couldn't hide your next move, anger making you just want to act. You swing at him, and he blocks. While your sword is up, he takes the chance to roll, and shove you backwards away from him. A dirty trick.

“Stop what?” He says to you, looking at you from where you had stumbled a few steps away, face blank.

You looked at him, with his back to the windows, face shrouded in darkness, and you hated him.

Before you could think about it, before you could flinch and regret your actions, your arms were arching up, throwing your sword across the room. Watching as Hajime involuntarily followed its arch through the air, sinning blade spinning over handle, until it landed in a clatter. You watched him all the while, and saw his shocked expression before he could hide it.

“I am your princess,” You growl, his head snapping back to you.

“I am your princess!” You yell, taking a step towards him, chest pressed to his.

“I am your Princess!” You scream, shoving him backwards toward the large windows.

You pressed against him, leaning him back against the window sill. You stretch to your tiptoes, your hands clutching his shirt as you stare into his eyes. With all the venom you can manage, panting, you say, “I am your princess! I am your princess and you will do as I say!”

“What are you doing?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed. You barely hear his words, or his sword clatter to the ground, your breathing too ragged, your heart beat too loud. You could feel it, in every part of your body, it echoed through you.

And in that moment you can almost see him. That flash in his eyes, that tone of voice, his breath fanning over your face. He was your Hajime, only for a second.

“Stop it,” you say, losing momentum with each word, “stop it.”

He finally tugs himself free, ripping your hands from him. He doesn't let go as he presses you a few steps back and leans down to look into your eyes.

His eyes were dark, and you lost him again, the Hajime you want. You yearned to bang on his chest and beg for him back, but you don't dare break the delicate dance you two were in.

“I see them,” you hiss, trying to get in his face, “I see how they look at you.”

“Who?” He spits.

“Your courtiers.” You say the words as if it's a curse.

He throws your hands down, taking steps to the door, still facing you.

“Nothing?” You ask. “You never have anything to say anymore.”

“Why does it matter?” Squaring his shoulders he looks at you straight on.

“Wh-”

“Why does it matter if they look at me?”

“It- I-”

“Tell me why it matters, Princess, and maybe we can talk. I don't want part in your tantrums.”

You watch him walk away, listening to every fading step, until you only have your breathing to fill the silence.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that night, it made you sick, haunting you with the memories of what you had said to each other.

Maybe you had been wrong. Wrong to order him to follow you, wrong to act so brash, wrong to scream at him, and to accuse him of those things.

You scolded yourself for acting that way, to let your temper control you. It had felt good, until you had crashed.

The option-less future spread in front of you. What would you do? Exhaustion was seeping into you, a new type of tired, one that you would do anything to amend.

If your temper wouldn’t fix your problems, you would have to try something else, even if it burned you from the inside out.

You called him to your rooms, something you had never done before. There was no need to call upon each other, you always knew where the other was

Hajime found you in the chair in the corner, the one he used to stay in; you rarely used it.

The last rays of evening sunlight were shining in your windows, cascading over your body.

Your face was illuminated by the sun, every beautiful line and imperfection was open in the light. It made you glow, like you should have been kept in a painting so you could be adored forevermore. You were golden, hair caught fire, glowing like a beacon of truth. The heir of an empire, the hope of thousands.

“Majesty,” he bowed, something he had only done a handful of times, for special occasions. It felt forgien and stiff doing it there.

“Iwaizumi” you said, it sounded like a song, a sigh and a prayer and a plea. But it wasn’t right.

When was the last time you had called him that? Never, a furious voice in the back of his mind told him.

“It’s almost time for me to choose.”

He stood up straighter, meeting your eyes for the first time. There wasn’t that look in them like before, of hurt and hardness. Determination that you would power through. It was just a fact.

It was almost time for you to choose the person of your court to swear a never ending bond with. To protect each other, in body and soul, to in turn protect your kingdom.

You looked down at your hands, and he was compelled to take a step forward to make sure he heard you, but not too close. He had a feeling that if he took another step he would see your red rung eyes, and he didn’t want to think about that.

“I want it to be you… I'm sorry for that night, for yelling, and trying to cut you into pieces. But…” You take a deep breath and look out the window. “ I don’t know what’s changed, and I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted, and whatever I’ve done, but I want it to be you”

With those last words you looked him in the eyes. The anger was gone, and all he saw was a tired princess. His tired princess. You didn’t break his gaze, not saying anything more .

He almost wanted to question you, the maturity in your words shocking. But he stayed quiet; that wasn’t his place anymore.

You had said your peace, he knew, as he looked into your eyes, with your face passive. It was his turn now, to come to you and bear his teeth, to gouge the hurt out of his chest in to lay it bare for both of you.

Hajime had a memory he kept close to him, right on his hip. He might have kept it on his ribs, the ones that protected his heart, if that was where you kept daggers.

It was the winter solstice celebration from years before. Hajime and you were in your parents' private rooms, giving gifts.The two of you sat on the floor next to the fire, with your parents on the couch in front of you.

“Now this one is for both of you.” Your mother explained, handing you both identical boxes. “Open them at the same time.”

You gave Hajime one look before tearing into yours. He didn’t get to see your reaction as he worked on delicately undoing the ribbons, but he heard your gasp.

Resting in your hands was an exquisite, shining dagger. You gently held it up, and both your heads turned in to stare at it.

“Oh my…” You gawked.

Hajime went back to his gift and opened it to an identical dagger. Twins.

He held his up, and you two compared.

They had blades of shimmering silver, with curved tips that looked sharp enough to split hairs. The handles were of matching silver formed into delicate patterns, inland with jewels that matched your kingdom's colors. The metal reflected the light of the fire behind you, flickering gold and orange, like the blades held the sun.

Looking up to your parents your father explained. “I had those made for the two of you.”

You waited, but that was all he offered. Hajime watched you balance the dagger in your hand, turning it over and examining it.

“They’re beautiful.” You say.

“I would hope that you don’t use them on each other, and only wear them for celebrations, but I doubt that is something that will happen.”

Hajime chuckled, looking down at his own dagger. The king might not have said it, but he had a feeling he knew what the daggers were for.

They were the two of you. Cut from the same stone, at each other with blades as sharp as diamonds, all while in your shining castle.

They were to remind you where you came from, that you two were one in the same, and that you were to work together. Much better to mar an enemy with the same blade than have the one that matches your in your gut.

“Thank you,” he said.

Hajime looked at you, and you were smiling. Leaning over, your grin was feral, and he couldn’t help the electricity that went down his spine.

“Do you know what this means?” You ask. “I need to get my dresses tailored.”

Hajime ruffled your hair, but your smile was burned into his memory. One in the same. Maybe his future queen really would be as strong as him.

Hajime could learn to like that.

Hajime was trained by your father and his men to be a warrior. Your warrior. While you were trained in how to fight men across oceans and continents, he was taught how to fight men with steel and teeth. You did give him a run for his money when you brawled, but he knew that he would never want to be facing you in a killing field, with an army at your disposal.

Your cleverness was beyond him, not that you would ever give yourself credit for it. But you were still young, and when he caught something that you had missed in meetings or conversations, the sparkle in your eye, the way he knew you were in awe of him, was addictive.

In all honesty, Hajime wasn’t your only lover, or admirer, you had many. Your parents were kind to you, your father could often be found making you giggle, especially when you were seated next to him at meetings. Your mother and you discussed books and music. You would often receive compliments from your father’s advisors and friends, which always made you blush in thanks. And your mothers lady’s loved to give you advice about clothes and any romantic endeavors you might go one. Not that there were many. The boys liked winking at you, and making you blush. Hajime tried his best to keep that to a minimum. Your court did love you, they loved the princess that was bashful and kind, but had the cleverest ideas at council meetings. You were the beautiful shining light, in your beautiful shining castle, and you would keep your court strong.

Those were all things that Hajime knew well. Painfully well. Because he was always the first to notice. He had seen how they all cared and vowed to make sure that you would stay that way, that you were protected and cared for. So your light never went out, so your kingdom was always strong. He would do what he must, he would not let your court fall.

So when he had looked at you and the light in your eyes had changed, he felt responsible.

It wasn’t a bad change, just different. It only took him a short amount of time to pinpoint what it was.

He couldn’t love you, not like that. He couldn’t let himself break you, because he knew he’d manage somehow, he was always a little heavy handed.

What protector would he be if he broke your heart? If he was the first one to weaken you? To welcome you into the cruel world you would be entering, of choosing the best of horrible options, of lying and deceiving? He would not be the one to welcome you to that.

Maybe he was wrong, maybe you could take it. He wouldn’t be the one introducing you to the hurt, he could be the one to guide you through it.

He was surprised when he found you, always too afraid to wander the place at night. You were in a sitting room, long forgotten by the court, locked away and covered in sheets.

It was one of the rooms you would play in as children, with the furniture pushed to one corner; each and every one of the walls between the tall windows was covered in paintings.

By now both of you had them memorized, whether that be by sunlight, candle light or moon light, both of you knew each of them well.

You were only looking at one, standing right in front of it, your favorite painting of them all.

Hajime watched you, in the light of the moon, stare at the picture. Your profile was perfectly outlined by the stark light.

“Tell me about her again,” he asked, voice carrying across the room.

You spare him a glance before turning back to the painting.

You take a step closer and take a breath. “Her name was Kiyoko.”

You bring your hand up, and with only a finger you delicately trace the frame.

“She was the most beautiful woman in the land, and the man who painted her was in love with her, but there were few who weren’t.”

Hajime didn’t have to see the picture to know what it looked like, he had spent plenty of time looking at it with you. The girl was beautiful, with silky black hair, pale skin, and eyes that felt like they knew all, like they were windows into the fiercest storm.

He knew the curve of her lips and the mole on her chin, and the pastel color of her dress. She was framed in a sea of greenery; plants, grass and trees all around her. Despite her pale dress and cool eyes she was surrounded by orange flowers, and in the corner of the painting, were perched crows.

He wasn’t sure what made you stare at that painting like you did. Like you could see details that weren’t there. You had always said that when you looked at it, you longed for the frame to expand, for the picture to grow wider, to see what she saw.

You also had a thousand questions for her, you wanted to know her as intimately as you knew her face. But she never answered, staring back with those eyes, until only Hajime was left to answer your questions.

“She was loved by everyone, it was said that you would be blessed if she acknowledged you, and if she spoke to you, you were destined for the most devine heaven.” You move your finger from the frame to the painting, looking like you would touch it, but you don’t, only coming infinitely close.

“She married the man she loved, and had a laugh that sounded like bells.” You bring your hand down and step back from the painting.

“You would be her most devoted admirer.” Hajime said.

“I already am,” you smile looking down at your hands, “but I think she would have deserved a beautiful friendship.”

It wasn’t a real story, her name was Kiyoko, that was the name of the painting, but each time you told it, it was different.

Looking up to reply to Hajime, you met his eyes. On his face was a smile that delicately curved, turning his mouth up.

That smile… the curve of his mouth, the sharp teeth behind it. It made your knees week, the relief of seeing it again.

He took steps towards you, until you were standing shoulder to shoulder looking at her again.

“What do the crows mean,” he asked, encouraging you to keep going.

You take a moment before answering. “They’re her other admirers, only to ever love her from afar.”

He hummed, and you swear you could feel it in your bones.

You turn to look at him, right in the eyes.

“It matters… it mattered because you weren’t looking at me.”

He tried to speak, but you stopped him. “No, listen to me.”

He wouldn’t look away from your eyes, face cool.

“I couldn’t- can’t- you just… you weren’t looking at me, and I didn’t know what to do. It’s unbearable.” Your words were so quiet, always so quiet in moments like these

It seemed like he couldn’t bear to break the silence as he said with narrowed eyes. “You think I don’t know, that I didn’t see?”

“You won’t break me Hajime,” you say with a scoff. He almost flinced, coming close but stopping. Like you had seen right through him when he wasn’t expecting.

“You don’t know that,” he hissed, “I know, saw it, everything, and I made that decision. I won’t be the one to introduce you to that, to be the first one to hurt you.”

He spoke with his hands, and you watched them as they moved. They were so wide, well taken care of, you remember them being softer than expected.

“You’re supposed to protect me,” you grit through your teeth. You don’t know if he can tell how flushed you are, but you know he can see the silver lining your eyes.

“H-how am I supposed to protect this kingdom, t-this court without you! I can’t do it without you.”

“You’ll do just fine,” he said, standing up straighter.

“Don’t say that! Why would you- why would you say something like that.”

It was getting hard to get the words out, every time he spoke you ached more and more.

He was panting, like those words had winded him. His face was hard, unyielding. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and covered your wobbling mouth. A sick imitation of a comforting embrace

He didn’t know what to do. His princess was shattering right in front of him and there was nothing he could do.

There was no one to point a blade at, no where to keep you safe. Looking at the tears in your eyes, he knew that this had been happening for a while. You were begging him to take his words back, any of them, but he wouldn’t let himself.

Hajime resisted the urge to look down at his hands. He’d always been heavy handed, that's what he had said to himself. He was trying to shield you, gods-dammit, but those hands had done more harm than good when it really mattered.

All he could do was watch you crumble in on yourself, while he stood feet away.

He was clueless. He always knew what to do. Your faithful, balanced Hajime was at a loss.

You could see it, you blinked and you were there. No longer in that moon-bathed room, but outside, children again.

How old were you? Nine? Eleven? How old was he? Thirteen? Fifteen? You were just children; the same as always. Had you even grown up, were you always clutching each other like this? So dependent yet so unaware of each other?

You had never seen him like this, he lived with a sword in his hand and a shield on his back. His upper lip stiff, his will unmoving.

But the man standing in front of you was desperate, with his hands splayed in front of him, like they would burn you if he got too close.

Why couldn’’t you just say it, why were you two always dancing around it? Your own choreography, your own sacred, unique steps.

“I’m tired,” you say, shoulders dropping, eyes lifting to the ceiling.

“I am too,” Hajime admitted.

You closed your eyes tight, feeling more tears fall from your lashes. And when you opened them again, you were met with steel. Not like the steel of blades, but unforged steel, ready to be shaped, reborn.

Looking into those eyes, the irises that framed hurricanes, it felt like those roaring winds blew right through you. Breathing life into you, fanning your flames. Maybe she could answer just one question for you.

This is the last time, you vowed to yourself, no matter how it ends.

Hajime didn’t ask questions as you dragged him through the palace, his presence giving you a little more confidence than before.

Up and up you went, just when he thought you were done taking him up stairs you found another set, and headed right to the top. You only felt him hesitate once, but you didn’t look back, and he followed. You made it to the top. A tower that was once a sentries station.

“How did you… isn’t there someone working here?” Hajime asked.

You didn’t have to look at him to see the crease in his brow. “No, there’s no need to have anyone up here.”

Your kingdom had been peaceful for years, if any attacks were to come, they would not be so often as to need guards on the lookout every day. Hajime knew that, so you followed. “I haven’t been sleeping, so I’ve just been walking around at night… and I wound up here.”

He didn’t say anything, but you knew what he was thinking. You never walked alone, the fact that you had been in that sitting room tonight was shocking. But you? Wondering up here?

On one hand, you hoped that he was feeling guilty. On the other, you felt horrible for tearing him up like that. But you knew that was how he was feeling, he wouldn’t push it to the side this time. Not with it spelled out in front of him.

Crossing his arms and leaning back, he gave you a look of disapproval, but you were no stranger to those cunning eyes. You tried not to dwell on the picture before you, slowly focusing into something- someone you recognized.

You walked up to the window, leaning against it, staring at the slowly brightening horizon.

“Just tell me why.” Was all you said.

Hajime stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with you, hand on the cool window sill. The warmth that encompassed Hajime's side almost made him purr, you were so close.

He took a moment to look at the view, the mountains in the distance, silhouetted by the rising sun. The dark sky was slowly becoming a splash of deep colors.

“I don’t just protect you, your life isn't your own. What I do affects you, what I see keeps you safe. What I let you do… it could change so much. If I stumble, if I overlook something- so much is at steak. And I know what you were thinking when you looked at me.” He paused as you nodded, and watched your eyes move from the horizon to the city nestled below the palace. “So I stopped, and you were pissed.”

“I’ll be disappointed if you say you didn’t see that coming.”

“Well, it worked to my advantage… until you woke me up that night…”

Your smile melted, but you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was bracing for something, that crackling irritation he was used to. But it didn’t come.

Hajime stiled. Maybe this wasn’t him talking to his princess anymore, as you listened, as he spoke, he realized it was his queen in front of him.

“You hurt me. You were mine and then suddenly you weren’t.” He sat there and listened as your voice cracked

“I’m sorry”

You turned to look at him. “You can’t break me that easy Hajime, we’re one and the same, in sword and devotion. I want you at my back, I want you protecting me. I need you to want the same. I thought- I thought we agreed on that. So please… let me choose you.”

“Please let me be your princess, please let me choose you, I want you to protect me, the right way.”

With you next to him he could see the sunlight reflected in your eyes, how it made them sparkle, how the roofs of your city seemed to wink up at you with the last slivers of moon light. Telling him how much hope they had for you, how they knew that their princess would keep them safe.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

With that admission, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him as hard as you could. You took a few breaths before pulling back, still keeping your arms around him, looking into his eyes.

“Let me be your princess Haji, please.” It was like you were looking for something in his eyes, not breaking the connection.

“Always,” he whispered, leaning closer, not looking away.

“But you aren’t my princess.” He watched your eyes flutter and he drew closer and closer, wrapping his arms around you, keeping you right against him. “You're my queen.”

He met your lips, and you were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. He didn’t think he could ever forgive himself if he made you feel like you had again.

And as the sun created the mountains, and it's morning rays illuminated you and Hajime, he knew that his hands might have broken you, but they had also put you back together.

Pulling away from Hajime, you try not to look as out of breath as you felt. You stared into his slate eyes and felt like he had never left, that the time between you that had hurt you was just a memory, a distant past.

They say you can’t remember pain. Maybe its to give you the courage to forgive, to be able to try again.

You watched his mouth as he said, “I'm a fool.”

“Then that would make me a fool too,” you muse, tone playful.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slightly, furrow in his brow. “We can’t have a queen who's a fool.”

“Then what am I?”

“An idiot,” you watched his mouth as he said it. His smile was crooked, like he was trying to hide it.

“Like the lovers,” You breathe, your own smile spreading across your face.

“Like the lovers,” he repeated.

The word lovers echoed in your head when you decided you wanted to kiss him again.

With each breath, you felt the embers inside of you cool to ashes, blowing in the wind like ash.

You might have lied, that night wouldn't be your last fight, but it would never be like that ever again.

Hajime and you were once again in the practice hall, but this time things were different. You were both giddy, as the early morning sun glinted in your eyes. You tumbled and swung your swords at each other, but this time it was laughter shared between you, not savage words.

You felt like you two were dancing again. With your dress whispering around your legs, and the dagger that matched Hajimes visible around your hip, you felt like you had that night as children, when Hajime first taught you to laugh.

You weren’t upset, or nervous this time, as you gave each other bruises and sore shoulders. Because later that morning at the ceremony you knew who would be standing next to you, with his back straight and his shoulders down. Your fiercest warrior and most devoted lover.

#hajime iwaizumi #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hajime iwaizumi x you #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hajime imagines #hajime x reader #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi x y/n #iwazumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwazumi hajime #iwazumi x you #my stuff #my wriring

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caramelcal · 3 years

Text

heartbreak girl

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: ik i have requests to write (i am writing them don’t worry !) but i got super inspired when i was listening to my bbys 5sos

the luke hemmings / luke patterson comparison videos ive seen are my favourites, love it when two fandoms collide lollll

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s work for that matter) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

masterlist

You call me up It's like a broken record Saying that your heart hurts That you'll never get over him getting over you And you end up crying And I end up lying 'Cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do

You couldn’t stop playing the video. Ever since it was sent you from a random number, you couldn’t stop crying. The video was barely ten seconds long, but it was ten seconds that broke your heart. There your boyfriend was, clear as day, kissing a girl that wasn’t you.

It isn’t long before you heard the front door open and slam behind someone, reminding you of who you told to come over. Luke, your best friend since you guys met in the sandpit at six years old. When he accidentally pushed you in, so you kicked him in the nuts. You guys had been inseparable ever since.

Luke was your best friend, and you were his. You guys had been through everything together. When he first learned guitar, when you did gymnastics, when he joined a band, when you guys first went to high school, and now, your first heartbreak.

“y/n?” He calls from downstairs, looking around the dark room. He had learned from a young age to just come into your house without knocking, your house was his second home after all.

Of course, you do have a few female friends that you could have called but none of them knew you as well as Luke did and you knew Luke would be there with you through everything. He would understand. He would comfort you better than any girl ever could. You walked down the stairs, trying to keep your sobs in but once you caught eyes with Luke, the tears started to fall.

“Luke,” You let out, looking at the boy barely keeping yourself together.

“y/n/n, what’s wrong?” Luke questions, eyes wracking over your defeated posture before looking up at your puffy red eyes. It was clear you had been crying, but why?

“He- he-,” You cut yourself short, letting back a choked sob as you land at the bottom of the stairs, Luke walking closer to you, his face looking at you with concern, “Luke he was with another girl, he cheated-”

Mind wracking back over the video, you broke down into tears, falling into Luke’s now open arms. Suddenly, once you're in the arms of your best friend all of your walls come crashing down and you start to cry louder, letting out every emotion you felt that night. The sadness, betrayal, and overall heartbreak.

Luke holds the back of your head soothingly as you cry into his chest, playing softly with the hair on your head. By this point, he is supporting all of your weight but he doesn’t mind as he lifts you over to the couch, allowing you to continue crying in a more comfortable position than the awkward standing position you were in moments before.

Whilst Luke was sad hearing you cry, he was overcome with anger. The fact that the scum would cheat, on you of all people. You were amazing, perfect even, so why would someone ever give away the chance of being with you? He knew he wouldn’t. Luke knew how much you loved and cared for the boy, Jack, and to see him cheat on you, he couldn’t help but be furious.

If he was being honest, the thing he wanted more than anything right now was to hook him right in the face. Punch him right where he stood, busting open his face so that no other girl would ever want to kiss him again. It’s what he deserves. Luke knew he was probably being a bit overprotective, but that didn’t matter to him, what mattered was that you were okay right now.

The last thing you needed in your state of fragility was Luke leaving you by yourself to set into the dickhead. Oh no, that could be done another time when you weren’t crying. What you truly needed right now was his comfort, so that’s what he gave you. He held you close, not even saying anything but hugging you closely, silently reminding you that he was here for you and always would be as you softly lulled into a sleep.

And when then phone call finally ends You say "Thanks for being a friend" And I'm going in circles again and again

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl

Walking down the hall, Luke’s eyes catch onto you. Even though he’s been with you all weekend, comforting you after the video you saw on Friday, just looking at you is a sad reminder of how you are doing. A frown has fallen onto your face whilst you look over at something. Following your gaze, Luke finds him, Jack, with his arm wrapped around the girl in the video.

He wants to punch that stupid smirk off Jack’s face, then they’ll see who’s truly laughing. When Luke’s eyes drift back over to you, he feels his stomach dropping slightly. The look in your gaze makes you look broken, eyes conveying a sense of vulnerability that Luke didn’t think was possible. Maybe it’s just because Luke knows you better and knows how to read you better than everyone else, but he notices all of the changes in you. He sees how your eyes lacked the sparkle they usually had, your usual smile not present, even your outfit seemed a little dull. Nonetheless, you’re still gorgeous, Luke thinks so, but you look different; less lively.

All of this heartbreak just because of a stupid boy. One stupid hard-headed jock that doesn’t know how to truly value the important things in his life. The stupid jock that didn’t know how much you were truly worth.

Luke knows he could treat you so much better if you just gave him the chance to. If you looked his way instead of Jack’s. He would hold you close and never let you go, let you know just how much you meant to him and those truly important around you. He would watch you like the only person in the world because you were the only one that mattered.

He doesn’t even realize he was staring at you until he hears a cough sound from behind him as Reggie puts an arm over his shoulder, smirking, “You’re staring, pal.”

Luke, who’s eyes briefly glanced over towards Reggie when the bassist spoke, glanced back at you quickly, sighing lightly in relief when he realizes you didn’t notice him staring at you. He shrugs half-heartedly, not noticing the knowing look that Reggie gives him as he speaks, “I can’t, Reg. I’m not supposed to like her like this, she’s my best friend.”

“Best friend or not, I see the way you look at her, everyone does but her,” Reggie says before patting his friend on the back.

“She still likes him Reg, and I’ve known her since we were six. She’s been in so many relationships yet she fell for the stupid jock,” Luke says, shaking his head as his fists clench at his sides. He doesn’t realize but his face contorts into anger, making Reggie smirk, “she deserves so much better. She deserves someone who’s going to appreciate her. Someone who will show her how much she means to them-”

“Someone like you?” Reggie asks, making Luke glance at him with an annoyed expression, huffing. Reggie shrugs his shoulders, “Just saying man if anyone knows y/n it’s you. You just gotta be there for her and she’ll realize how much you mean to her. I mean, everyone thinks you guys are meant for each other, soon she’ll see that too.”

I bite my tongue But I wanna scream out You could be with me now But I end up telling you what you wanna hear But you're not ready And it's so frustrating He treats you so bad and I'm so good to you, it's not fair

And when the phone call finally ends You say "I'll call you tomorrow at 10" And I'm stuck in the friendzone again and again

Luke is frustrated. It has been two weeks since his conversation with Reggie, and the hope Reggie had given him for pursuing a relationship was surely fizzling out. Reggie was wrong, that’s what Luke thought anyway. Not only had you not realized how much Luke was bending his back for you, going out of his way to comfort you, being there for you 24/7, you had been so utterly stupid. Jack had given you the most insincere apology known to man, and you were meeting up with him for a date.

It had been forty-seven minutes since you had left, not that Luke was counting or anything and he still hadn’t heard a word from you. No text, no call, nothing. Jack was probably taking up all of your attention with his boring jock stories or his lame jokes. He probably didn’t even compliment you when you arrived and that was practically criminal.

You had been all dressed up when you left, not that Jack would have even noticed, but Luke did. He noticed the way the outfit you wore looked perfect on you, complimenting everything about you and most importantly, how confident you felt in it. You deserved more than a boy that wouldn’t even tell you that you were pretty, Luke knew that, he just wished you did too.

He paces around his room, feet aggressively hitting the ground. He wanted to punch something, to let out all of the anger and frustration that was itching, begging to be released. Yet, his anger was cut short when he heard his phone start to ring.

“Hello?”

“Lu?” Your voice sounded through his phone, ringing in his ears.

“Y/n?” Luke said in confusion, eyes glancing up at the time, “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date?”

You hesitate to answer, a complete silence hanging in the air until your light sniffles sound through the phone, “He didn’t show, Lu. M-My mom dropped me off, I don’t have my car. Can you come pick me up?”

“I’ll be there in 10, stay there y/n/n.”

Luke ran out of the house.

I know someday it's gonna happen And you'll finally forget the day you met him Sometimes I'm so close to confession I gotta get it through your head That you belong with me instead

Luke couldn’t help but smile at you, hazel eyes meeting your e/c eyes as he strung his guitar expertly. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you to be at band practices, actually, you were at a large amount of them. It was normal for you to watch the band, well that’s what you said you were doing, but you were only really looking at Luke.

You didn’t play any musical instruments properly, but you could play a little guitar from what Luke had taught you. You remembered his teaching you, arms wrapped around you, hands guiding your fingers onto the different frets, playing different cords. He didn’t give up when you messed up, and instead, he smiles and shows you again, your back flushed against his chest.

It was no secret that you always enjoyed watching their band practice and perform, but it was different this time because they had gotten you to stop thinking about Jack. This was the first day that you didn’t feel miserable and instead felt happy in their presence. It was the first day that your gleaming smile returned, one that all members of the band had missed.

Soon enough, they were finished, congratulating each other on how well they played with large smiles.

“We’re gonna sound great at the rally!” Reggie says, flipping his bass down to his side so he didn’t have to hold it as he gave Luke a high five before turning to Alex, all of them breathing heavily with huge smiles.

“Of course, we’re still finishing with the other song, right?” Alex asked, eyes looking over at Luke for approval. He nodded his head, making you look at them in confusion.

“What other song?”

Luke glanced over to you, walking closer before kneeling beside you, guitar still in his hand, smirking “Can’t tell you, it’s a surprise.”

You groaned lightly, flinging your head back before giving the boy your puppy eyes, “Please? I won’t tell.”

He laughed lightly, shaking his head at you. Over the years, he had often been the victim to your puppy eyes, and whilst he often found them irresistible, he knew he couldn’t tell you this secret. He playfully slapped you on the arm, “Get those puppy eyes away, they’re not gonna work today.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, standing up before you stood up alongside Luke, who slung an arm over your shoulder. You guys shared a look, almost communicating through your eyes, something that you guys had gotten freakishly good at since you were kids.

“So, who wants to go grab a smoothie?” Luke said, turning his attention towards the rest of the band as you jumped on his back, ready to leave practice for smoothies.

Soon enough, the rally at school came and the students surround the stage that the band was playing on. You stood at the back, proudly watching them as they played. Their most recent song blasts through the halls, exciting the students more than you had seen for the previous people on stage, even Dirty Candy. Sweat drips off of them, lights blazing down on them with intensity.

Eyes looking at Luke, you see him jump around when he sings and it brings a smile to your face. You knew this was their surprise song, the song that they were ending with because it was an unfamiliar tune, but one that Luke was pouring every feeling into as he sang the lyrics.

Suddenly, he’s no longer playing his guitar and it’s hanging on the strap by his side, mic detached from the stand and he’s making his way off of the stage and running through the crowd. You’re astonished, not only because Luke is running off stage, but that it somehow isn’t affecting his vocals.

Everyone seems to knowingly make a path for him to run through, almost as if they know where he is going to. Your eyes stay on him as he comes through the crowd, slowing down to a walk as he begins to sing again,

“I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl

Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl.”

His eyes meet yours when he is standing barely feet away from you. His hair is messed up, dripping with sweat but you barely notice. When he stops singing, he lifts the mic away from his face and holds it down away from both of your faces so that it can’t pick up what you’re saying.

People start to talk between themselves, all of them staring at you and Luke standing barely a foot apart, eyes gazing into one another but you don’t notice because you’re too busy looking at Luke. You’re speechless, heart racing faster than you thought humanly possible, with lips slightly apart before he whispers to you, “This is for you, my heartbreak girl.”

Then, his free hand makes its way up and cups your cheek, and his lips connect with yours.

#luke patterson #luke julie and the phantoms #luke patterson x reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms x reader #charlie gillespie #julie and the phantoms luke #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp

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purplellamanator · 3 years

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Sorry for the delay! This is the first part of my contribution for @shinranweek The above link is to read the story on AO3 or if you prefer to read off of fanfic, just click here! Of course since this is a tumblr event, the chapter will be posted below the cut. I originally wanted this posted for day 1 for first meetings but unfortunately life got in the way. Just a little insight though, this is heavily inspired by movie 20 The Darkest Nightmare. This is not completed though and I'll post the next part later. Sorry if it seems rushed and thanks to @shinranweek for hosting the event! Loved all the shinran content this week!

Amnesia Part I

Her head. . . . It was pounding so hard she thought it'd implode in on itself.

She clutched at the source with one hand and continued walking forward blindly. Everything she did was blindly. Where she was going, where she came from, why her head hurt. . . who she was; it was all lost to her. And she kept moving forward.

Where was she anyways? Glancing around cautiously, her hand still pressed to her head and now as a slight shield from the blistering sun, she tried to discern her surroundings. It was hard though. Her head was pounding and she could barely think. There was so much noise going on around her to add to that and- she was going to pass out.

Eyes landing on a bench, the woman stumbled hurriedly to the wooden chair before collapsing on it. She felt slightly better now that she was off her feet but not by much. It did allow her to actually see through the fog that was clouding her already injured mind and she lost the need to hold herself together.

Laughing and talking; there was a lot of that. There were families milling about, smiling and chattering excitedly. Obviously she was in a family park of sorts . . . but what had brought her here? Was she here with her family? If so, where were they?

Eyes moving around slowly before seeing a massive ferris wheel in the distance, she felt a semblance of knowledge itch at the corners of her mind. Something was familiar. . Something was familiar about that wheel. .

Had that been why-?

She jerked suddenly when she realized she wasn't sitting alone anymore. Looking beside her, it was a man, not that old at all and maybe in his younger twenties. The surprise wasn't what made her jump though. He was- had he been smelling her?

Even after she jumped away and stared at him as if he lost his mind, the man continued to sniff at her as if he were some sort of dog.

Finally, she cleared her throat. "Um . . . " She wanted to cringe at how awkward the one sound had been. What do you say when one human being sniffs . . another. . ?

And if possible, the man leaned back against the bench completely nonchalant. As if he hadn't just been smelling her . . .

"Gasoline."

His voice had come so abruptly and her eyes blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Gasoline," the man repeated, a satisfied look in his blue eyes. "You smell very strongly of it."

Did she really? The woman raised her arm to her face and sniffed, brows furrowing when she discovered that he was right. The odd stranger was correct and she did smell very strongly of gasoline.

"Are you okay?" He asks when she was still trying to figure why she would smelled like she took a bath in a gas station.

Her eyes flit to his. "I- I think so."

The stranger's brows lifted curiously. She didn't blame him for looking so confused. How could she not know if she were alright? He didn't question her response though and instead said, "You don't look okay. You look and smell like you've been in an explosion." She was sure that was meant to sound like a joke but the possibility that that very well could be true reflected in his gaze; a hint of seriousness.

But for the first time, and only because this stranger pointed it out to her, she was actually taking in her appearance. Clothes disheveled and dirtied, hair tangled and a welt on her head; safe to say she looked and felt like she'd been through an explosion or two.

"Forgive me for cornering you like this but you appeared distressed," he apologized but somehow he didn't sound very sorry at all. "I just saw you stumbling around in those heels and I thought you'd pass out until you collapsed on this bench. Were you coming from work?"

"Work?" The woman mumbled to herself and again took notice of the gray pencil skirt and the white button-up blouse she wore. Where did she work? Did she even work? She could feel the headache coming back again. Or maybe it had never gone away and she had been able to forget about it momentarily. "I don't know," she finally said in a slow realization and his eyes widened even more.

"Do you know your name?"

Do you know your name?

The voice that resounded after his wasn't hers and she heard it only in her mind. A memory- but from what she didn't know. She had been asked that before but she couldn't remember when or why. For some reason, it made her head throb from trying to remember. "My name. . . ?" She was staring hard at the concrete before her on the ground as she continuously ran that question through her head.

"Can you remember?"

She could hear him right beside her- practically feel him leaning towards her when she didn't respond right away. But for some reason it felt like he was muffled and suddenly the man was miles away and she was stuck in her head. "What's my name. .?" So many thoughts rushed at her in that moment and she raised a hand to her welt to try to soothe the pain radiating from it. But it wasn't soothing it; it wasn't making it better and soon both hands were clutching her head as she attempted to recall something that should've been so simple. "My name?" she repeated again and now her breaths were coming out panicked.

Why couldn't she remember her name? It was hers and she couldn't say it?

"Hey!" She could barely feel a firm hand splay across her back as if to comfort her. "Breathe. I'll call an ambulance and we'll-"

"No!" She jerked away from him roughly and attempted to come to a stand. Her legs wobbled and she could barely make a decision between holding her head together or balancing on her own two feet. Something about his statement had her body reacting automatically though and she just knew she couldn't go to a hospital. Why? She didn't understand that yet but her instincts were telling her no and as of now, her instincts were all she had.

The man rose too and moved slowly towards her as if approaching a scared animal. "We'll get you help. We'll find where you came from," he tried again and went to help her stand.

Where I came from. . to take me back. . . ? Back to-

Nails digging into her head as the pain became intense, she stumbled away each time he moved closer. "No," she shook her head and it became apparent to her that tears were streaming down her cheeks from the pain. "I- I can't-!"

Couldn't what? Go to the hospital? Go back to some unknown place that her body was rejecting? It was all too much.

And suddenly startling them both and everybody in the vicinity, she began screaming from the pain as something tried to force its way to the forefront of her mind. It couldn't though and it was just so much pain and she couldn't stop yelling and before she knew it she was falling and falling.

Heavy lids blinking open a few times to adjust to the brightness, she felt weird. Her head was sore but that was a given. But she didn't feel herself as if she were a mind in someone else's body. That's what she really was in that moment considering she couldn't recall something so simple as her own name.

Her mouth felt dry and her eyes tight as she took in her surroundings. She was in a bed- a hospital room and hooked up to some IV that was probably full of saline. Something else she became apparent to was the fact she was all alone. No one else was in the room with her.

So why was the first thought to strike her was to sneak out that far window? It was like an unconscious reaction that she shouldn't be there in that room; that she had somewhere else she needed to be and that she knew deep down she was never to be in a hospital.

But why?

Thankfully, the woman didn't get the chance to act out her idea because in the next second the door was creaking open slowly and a head was peeking in. It was the stranger- the man from before. And when he saw that she was awake and sitting up in her bed, a grin cracked across his face.

"I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Honestly, she felt terrible. "Better," she said instead. At least she could actually remember what happened before she landed herself here.

"Remember anything?"

She gave him a curious glance. "I remember my head hurting and passing out while we were talking." That was it and he understood fully what she meant. She still couldn't remember her name or anything else before they met.

He must've saw the way her eyes slowly slid around the room uneasily. "I took you to a friend. We're not in a hospital."

Those words really did bring a certain amount of relief for her. Though she still had this mild feeling of wanting to jump out the window, it felt like a weight had lifted off her.

Stepping further into the room, he took the seat beside her bed and she wondered if he had really been here the entire time waiting for her to wake up. "We'll figure it out soon enough. A detective is waiting to speak with you when you're ready."

Detective? Her insides clenched and that again was another red flag. She didn't want to speak with a detective. Swallowing away her body's natural panic, she attempted to pay it off. "Y-you called the police?" She wasn't fooling this man though and she briefly wondered how he could read her emotions so easily.

"Let's just say they're my friends as well," he gave a small but relaxed grin.

Other than for the heaviness of her head, she really felt better now. If he was telling the truth then he had saved her from having to worry about any legal consequences or actions. "Who are you?" He hadn't told her after all. He had been too busy . . smelling her and asking for her name. But he had helped her as well it would seem. Such an unusual person. . .

His blue eyes widened as if he just realized he never told her that. It seemed unlike him but his cheeks actually tinted a slight pink. "I can't believe I didn't even tell you my name," he scratched the back of his brown hair awkwardly and she could hear the unspoken apology in his tone. "I'm Kudou Shinichi." He said it so proudly and matter of fact that the woman was taking back her earlier accusation. He wasn't awkward because he had forgot to mention his name. He was just used to people already knowing it and since she didn't she hoped that didn't take him down a notch. After all, she couldn't even recall her own so why would she remember his?

Kudou Shinichi.

But then again, maybe she did. There was some sort of recognition that came with the name.

Again, that awakened a voice within her but this time she didn't push the fact. Last time she had given herself a migraine and she thought her brain would explode.

"Thank you then, Kudou-san," she said sincerely. "I'm sorry for any trouble this has caused you."

"Not at all," he waved her off. "I'm a de-."

A firm knock resounded around the room before the door creaked open slightly again. Only this time it was someone the woman did not recognize. Based off their clothes though, she was able to determine it was one of her nurses.

She was proven correct when the woman clad in her scrubs turned to another and said, "She's awake but the doctor doesn't want you questioning her long. We're still examining the severity of her brain damage and she doesn't need any stress." And then the door was held open farther so a couple could enter; one man and one woman.

She determined these were the detectives Kudou-san had warned her about. Instantly, she was on guard but she couldn't tell what was to blame. Her body seemed to do it unconsciously and she knew she couldn't speak freely with them. Why would it matter though? She couldn't remember anything not to speak freely with them. And Kudou-san had also said that they were there as his 'friends'.

As they stepped closer and she tensed even more, Kudou-san stood up in what seemed respect to greet the other two. Soon he was moving aside granting them full access to her bedside and she felt her chest cinch up nervously.

Her gaze instantly appraised the woman. She held a certain air of authority that demanded it. She seemed to be in her thirties maybe, the injured girl couldn't tell. But through her stern features she seemed kind enough so far. The man appeared much more at ease than her. She didn't want to mistake it for timidness but she could tell who was the boss in this partnership. Or better yet, who bad cop good cop was.

The woman was the first one to address her proving her theory even more. "I'm Detective Sato and this is my partner Detective Takagi." She paused to give her a chance to speak but all she could do was nod her head respectfully. It wasn't like she could respond with her own name.

"Kudou-kun suspects you've been in an accident of some kind. Not only would we like to find and hold whoever is accountable, our goal is also to identify whom you are."

"I don't think I'll be much help," she admitted apologetically. "I don't remember anything before meeting this stranger." Her eyes flit to the brown haired man that stood to the side.

The woman nodded her head as if she already knew this. "After what Kudou-kun described earlier today and what the doctor explained, I don't expect you to remember anything. So I'll ask you a few basic questions and if you can't answer them, that's okay."

She wasn't too sure that was a good idea. After the pain from last time. . .

The two detectives must've noticed the uneasiness on her features and Detective Takagi actually spoke up. "We don't want to further your condition. Don't push yourself."

Detective Sato nodded before clearing her throat. "It is to my understanding that you don't remember your name so I won't bother asking you about that. Instead, I'd like to know the first thing you do remember."

She swallowed uneasily as she watched the detectives before her. The woman couldn't really understand why but their presence bothered her a great deal. To forget about that, she tried focusing on the question. The very first thing she could remember . . .

"I-I was in an alleyway," she revealed. "My head hurt badly and I didn't know what was going. I could barely stand."

"Can you recall where this alleyway was?"

She shook her head slowly. "I hadn't stuck around for long." Her tone seemed curious about her actions; or maybe perturbed as to why she hadn't. It was something deep down inside of her that told her she had to keep moving.

"Why did you go to that park specifically? Why not the police?"

The ferris wheel.

The answer surfaced swiftly and assuredly through her thoughts. She didn't know why she went there just for the ferris wheel but the fact she knew even that much was something. Yet. . she didn't tell them.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It felt safer and just calm. I wasn't thinking to go to the police." Of course she left out that she couldn't go to a police department. But she could just use the excuse of confusion until she knew what was going on with her. To be fair, she really was confused.

Detective Sato nodded before pulling a card from her pocket. "I didn't expect you to know much and you are on bed rest so I'll end this here." Handing the card to her, the injured girl looked at it curiously. "That's my number. If you remember anything about yourself or the accident, call me."

She nodded again and her cheeks tinted a slight pink. That's all she's done for the past few hours. How embarrassing it was that she couldn't even think to hold a conversation. "T-thank you," she choked out but it sounded completely forced and her grin appeared as a grimace. And either they didn't notice or they just didn't feel like making her even more uncomfortable because the detectives bowed their heads respectfully before exiting.

Not giving her a chance to relax, the door opened again and now what she assumed was her doctor entered. She watched the man even more uneasily. For some reason the doctor bothered her more than the detectives. The man didn't seem too bad. A normal middle aged man dressed in his medical coat and carrying a clip board; there was nothing particularly daunting about him but something . . frightened her.

She started sweating. Her heart beating furiously could be heard on the monitor and she felt her cheeks enflame even more.

"Looks like someone's afraid of the doctor's office," he joked with a warm smile and a wink. "I'm Doctor Araide. I've been looking after you since Kudou-san brought you in."

That didn't put her at ease at all and she swallowed through her dry throat. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, the beeps from the monitor slowly went back to normal. She was thankful the doctor hadn't made too much of a big deal over it but Kudou-san was actually looking at her with a calculating frown. All she could do was try to convince her brain that it was alright. They weren't really in a hospital and that she needed to calm down.

"Well," he went to sit on the chair beside her and she tensed up some more. He didn't point it out this time thankfully and continued with," I have some bad news and some good news."

"What's the bad?" she took the initiative to ask. She'd rather get that out of the way first.

Doctor Araide sighed before shaking his head. "We ran prints and DNA through our systems and through the police department's records as well to see if we could pin you with a name. You're not in any of the systems and no one has reported a missing persons case." Seeing the disheartened look on his features he said, "Don't worry. That could mean many things. You just might not be around from this part of Japan and thankfully you don't have a record to warrant the police's attention."

She nodded slowly, trying to focus on the positive side. It was hard though when she was so confused. She literally had nothing. Not even memories.

"Now for the slightly better news. . . " And for this he actually looked at his clipboard and flipped back a few pages. "I'd still like to do a few more brain scans just to make sure your condition hasn't worsened but it appears to be psychogenic amnesia."

"P-psychogenic. . . ?"

"Retrograde amnesia," he corrected for her in simpler terms. "It's a form of memory loss that can follow a physically or emotionally traumatic event. Luckily, I believe yours isn't too severe."

"So. . . I won't keep passing out?" she asked hopefully from her bed. It hadn't been a very nice feeling from what she could remember and waking up hadn't been any easier either.

Doctor Araide sighed as if he didn't want to make her any promises. He probably couldn't and instead said, "I think that was your body reacting to a memory that . . . psychologically," he finally settled on that word, "you wanted to avoid."

"Basically. . . I don't want to remember." The injured woman nodded but could feeling the beginnings of a headache; only this time it was different. Instead of just straight and abrupt pain this one seemed to stem from stress and disappointment. What had happened to her so bad in her life that she didn't want to remember any of it?

"Not necessarily," the doctor said anxiously. He must've saw what her own statement meant for her. "It was only a theory. What's more important is there was no physical damage to the brain. Cases like these- I don't want to give false hope, but typically my patients that have experienced something similar, all regained some form of memory to their life before their accident."

Though he basically told her not to get too excited, her heart grew brighter. Maybe she wouldn't be a nobody forever and like he said, at least there was no serious damage. "Is there anything I can do that will hasten the process?" The woman didn't want to lose her calm façade in front of the doctor but it was hard to hide it in her voice.

And like a doctor would, he detected it easily. "You're still on bed rest," he warned. "Besides the amnesia, you suffered some major bruising to your ribs and abrasions to your face."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't even noticed. Had she been walking around with bruised ribs all this time? It was hard to believe but maybe whatever accident she had been in numbed her.

"I-" She cut herself off nervously. She didn't want to stay here. Doctors were meant to help people; she knew that deep down. But a certain fear deep inside of her chest- she couldn't deal with that here and surrounded by it. "I don't want to stay here."

And just like that, both the doctor's and Kudou-san's eyes were flitting towards her incredulously.

"I don't think you understand the severity of your condition," Doctor Araide started. "Your wounds are ones fitting of a car accident. You are in no state to be living on your own. And legally, I cannot let you leave on your own."

She wasn't legally a patient here. She was sure of it from Kudou-san's words and she wasn't about to stay here longer than she had to. She didn't want to be here and as far as she was concerned, she didn't have to be. She tried to be nice and let them have their questioning and their tests. Now she wanted to leave. She was fine just on her own until that stranger started smelling her. She wished she jumped out that window when she had the chance.

"Any more stress could damage your chances of gaining anything from your past."

That had her pausing her retort, biting her lip in contemplation. She didn't want to stay here. This wasn't comfortable for her. In fact, it frightened her quite a bit and what was even worse- she didn't know why.

Seeing that she wasn't too fond of this place but also realizing she understood her condition, the stranger from before spoke up again only this time addressing the doctor. "She can stay with me."

The doctor was staring at her now, a frown on his face before turning that disapproving stare on Kudou-san. "It was already wrong of me not to send this woman to a hospital let alone to not call the police. How can you ask me to let her leave?"

"She'll stay at my house. I have more than enough room and I'll watch over her," he replied easily while giving her wary sideways glances. It looked like he was worried she was going to just jump and leave herself without listening to what they had to say.

It was tempting.

"I'll let you leave tomorrow morning if you stay the night," was the doctor's final offer. Either that or he would more than likely inform the law enforcement. She didn't want to risk getting any of them in trouble for hiding this for her.

Lips pursed uncomfortably, she nodded her head once. "And then I can leave?"

"Like I said earlier, I want to run a few more brain scans and make sure there's no lasting damage through the night. After that, I am letting you leave with Kudou-san to be in his care." Doctor Araide put extra emphasis so she knew she would not be leaving alone.

True to his word though, the next morning she and Kudou-san were filling out documents. The entire time Doctor Araide was standing over her- prattling her to stay. After the restless night she had however, that wouldn't be happening. It was like she was about to crawl out of her skin. She didn't feel safe.

"Ma'am," the doctor turned to face her. "I really do not recommend this." It was a last ditch effort really. The hours long process was finally over and Kudou-san was pulling his car around as she waited.

"I know. Thank you for all you've done," she bowed. If it hadn't been for the fact that this was his practice and they had in fact taken her to a hospital, she knew this wouldn't have gone done as smoothly as it did.

Doctor Araide sighed disappointedly. "Please come back if you experience any pain or illness. You have a head injury and that could make appearances as nausea, soreness- anything." And he too was handing her a card and she couldn't believe she was receiving a second one. "This is my work number. It's always on and do not hesitate to call. Kudou-kun has my number as well."

After a few more departing words on the doctor's part on how she needed to be careful, she was waiting in the passenger seat as Kudou-san talked privately with him. She didn't pay it any mind and figured the man had finally given up on trying to convince her to stay there. Instead, he must be giving Kudou-san explicit instructions as he had done prior with her.

She jumped when the door opened and he slid into the driver's seat. Not realizing he was done talking, the girl noticed the doctor was long gone and not even standing on the porch any longer.

"So," he began as he buckled his seatbelt. "Is there anything you'd like me to call you?"

His question actually threw her. She just assumed she'd be left a no-name until she either remembered or those two detectives identified her- whichever came first. The woman thought about it though before shaking her head. Thinking about it gave her a headache and she honestly didn't know what she'd like to be called. Her real name definitely but at the moment that wasn't a possibility. Then to make it even harder, she knew nothing about herself to conjure up some nickname.

Kudou-san waved her off. "We'll figure something out," he said reassuringly. "Let's get you settled in first."

"Where are we?" she piqued curiously. Somehow her brain had retained the information that she was indeed Japanese and still in Japan. Why it didn't know anything else she'd never figure out.

"I live in Beika."

All she could do was nod again. Nothing seemed familiar about the area or name. A little bit of her hope diminished with that but she wouldn't get too discouraged yet. The doctor had hinted that this loss was more than likely temporarily until her mind could come to grips with what happened.

For some reason, when she was informed that she'd be staying with this Kudou Shinichi, she had pictured an apartment. Maybe a two bedroom flat in the city. What their car pulled up to however, she was practically pressed to the window in amazement.

It was a mansion- and no, she was not exaggerating. The house was huge and gated in and everything. Again she had to ask, "Who are you?" Not just anybody could afford a place like this. He had to be somebody important.

He looked at her surprised as he walked up to the gate and pulled it open. It was already unlocked apparently. "I already told you." When he saw she was still looking up in awe at the place that would be her home for at least the next few days, he sighed. "My mother is an actress and my father is an author. They left me the place to live in the States."

Glancing at him, she had a brief moment to wonder if that's why she recognized his name. The fact he had famous parents was more than explanation enough. She was curious to just who his parents were now but he seemed uncomfortable on the topic so she respectfully didn't push it. Instead she said, "Is it just you here?" She was curious. He looked to be in his early twenties and he wasn't bad looking at all. Maybe he had a wife or girlfriend.

"Well now there's you," he pointed out.

Blinking, she was a little flabbergasted that he owned this mansion all to himself. "You live here alone?" Still staring at the hard iron gates blocking the entry way, she felt a sort of cold sensation overcome her. How could someone live in such a big building all by themselves? She knew already that she wouldn't want to and she didn't even know who she was.

Kudou-san took a moment to pause and look at her as if she needed to pay attention. "No. Now, you live here too."

She actually took a moment to glare at his retreating back. The woman wasn't able to tell he was joking until he turned and gave her a small smirk. It was hard to stay irritated when someone smiled at you like that. And the fact he kept this entire thing a secret also helped but she didn't really want to bring that up anymore. Instead, she wanted to focus on getting to know the new place she'd be staying at for however long he chose to deal with her.

After he shut the gate behind them and resumed strolling down the pathway, her gaze raked across the front entrance and the surrounding yard. There was grass and it was green and there was indeed paint on the shutters and front door, but something disturbed her about the scene. She couldn't explain it well but it all just seemed so . . . dead. The front area near the front windows was completely bare where it appeared a garden may of been there quite some time ago. Actually entering the house and into the foyer, the shoe cubby was empty except for one pair. And eyes scanning the barren walls and the way their voices echoed around the spacious house- it was empty.

And there she had the answers to her own curious questions. There was no wife. There was no girlfriend. And based off the shoe rack, there wasn't even any guests. Did he really live here. . ? A hollow feeling ironically filled her heart. She couldn't explain it but she had the weird urge to open the shades and start cleaning. Not that it was messy or anything. It was clean- too clean if possible.

Kudou-san didn't notice the way she scrutinized the building as she followed him up the stairs. If he did, he didn't say anything about it and she walked quietly in his slippers. She assumed they were his considering they were the only pair by the door and he was forced to walk around in his socks. He must not receive many visitors.

"You can stay in here," he said as he opened one of the many doors in the upstairs hallway. "Since I only really had the night to prepare, it's not much. We can go out and buy you some clothes and stuff tomorrow though if you're up to it." It came out unsurely and when she glanced back at him he was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

The woman shook her head with a small grin. "This is fine. Thank you for allowing me to stay." She was still curious as to why he did it. He had no clue who she was and neither did she. She had absolutely no memory of her prior life and some possible health issues. If she was asked, she'd say she was more trouble than it was worth.

"I have a neighbor that is about your size. She lent me some clothes for you to use- if you don't mind them of course," he corrected quickly.

Eyes a bit wide from the fact he actually thought she'd care about having to borrow clothes, she shook her head again. "I am very thankful for her offer and would be more than happy to get out of these." She had been wearing the same clothes she woke up in the first day with Doctor Araide. He had given her a pair of hospital pants and a white t-shirt.

"I have your original clothes in the wash." He had a thumb pointing behind him in the direction she assumed was the laundry room.

All she could do was bob her head in acknowledgement. In a way, she was thankful. Those clothes were her only grasp on where she had come from. On the other hand, they sort of felt detached. She couldn't remember anything about them so they almost held no meaning to her. She just wished she could remember something.

"Is your head hurting?"

She almost wondered why he would be asking her that but then she took notice to the frown she had on her features. The girl hadn't even realized she'd been doing it. Straightening her features, she fixed her lips upward into a small grin. "Not at all."

Kudou-san had been in the process of saying something when the grand doorbell resounded around the massive home. A confused scrunch of his brows showed he wasn't expecting any visitors today. "Excuse me," he nodded his head at her before turning to go. "Go ahead and settle in."

Back facing her, the man wasn't able to see the puzzled and incredulous look she bore. Settle? Settle what. Turn down her sheets to go to bed? She had nothing. There was nothing to settle. Not saying anything though, she decided to just follow him. It might be those two detectives with a lead.

"I told you not on the first day," he came Kudou-san's disapproving tone. He didn't sound angry but there was hint of scolding in his tone and she wondered who was on the receiving end. "She just got back from the doctor's and she needs to rest today." He was glancing down, almost bent over at the waist to talk down. Now she was curious.

"I just wanted to give her these!" came a cheerful voice if she'd ever heard one.

Making her way further down the steps, she noticed the way Kudou-san gripped the door open enough for him to speak. Hoping it wasn't too forward of her, she pried the door open further. It was obvious they were talking about her anyway and she didn't feel like resting much.

Shocked at first, it was enough to catch him off guard and the door opened further. Eyes looking forward, her eyes had to flit down when she realized once again, it was a small child; a little girl. Her hair was dark and cut short, a headband with a bow on her head. All in all, she looked adorable and the woman felt a wide smile tug at her features.

Practically shoving the man out of the way- or even forgetting he was there, she came to a kneeling position. "What did you want to give me?" she asked softly at the child's wide eyes. She wasn't sure but she hoped her sudden appearance hadn't frightened the girl. She really was tiny and she had to wonder how old she was. Maybe seven, if she had to guess?

The small girl's cheeks turned a flustered pink as she hid her hands behind her, an embarrassed look as she glanced at her feet. "I can come back tomorrow. Shinichi-oniisan says you need to rest."

Unlike with Kudou-san, she was being shy. It was no surprise considering she had no clue who she was.

The woman made to appear as if she were thinking. "Well, we can tell Shinichi-oniisan that the sun's still up," she replied with a sideways glance in his direction and she almost laughed. That got the little girl looking up at her again she felt her heart warm as a small giggle escaped her.

"What's your name?"

Now a bit more at ease she excitedly said, "Yoshida Ayumi!"

"That's really pretty," she complimented and if possible, the pink on the small child's cheeks got pinker.

"My parents named me after my grandmother. It means to step or. . to walk your. . " She kept stuttering and cutting herself off as she thought really hard to remember.

The woman wasn't really sure where the burst of knowledge came from but she paused the struggling verbal thoughts of the girl. "To walk your own way," she corrected.

Ayumi gasped happily. "Yes! That's it!" She giggled herself when the girl bobbed her head excitedly.

"Here you go, Onee-chan!"

The woman had to blink at the sudden appearance of flowers in her face. When she realized this must've been what the girl was hiding behind her back, she smiled before grabbing the stem from the child's hand. They were orchids and they were almost a violet color. Where had she pulled this from?

Eyes moving back to Ayumi-chan's, she smiled wider. "Thank you. It's really pretty."

Ayumi-chan pointed at the woman's face. She had to blink again from the sudden closeness. "Just like your eyes!"

Her eyes? The woman hadn't really paid that any mind. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't even looked in a mirror yet. Surprisingly she hadn't thought to do so. Most of her time had spent in a doctor's office. It would be like staring at a stranger anyway.

"My eyes?" She still repeated as she stared into space. How could she not know the color of her own two eyes? She felt her head start to ache.

Ayumi-chan nodded surely. "Say. . . what's your name?" It must've just hit her that she wasn't aware who she was talking to. Truthfully, the woman had forgot herself too. So used to being a noname for the past two days, she didn't think to introduce herself.

"Um. . . "

Kudou-san saw her unease and appeared ready to turn this conversation around. Ayumi was way ahead of him however.

"I'll bet your name is Ran- like the orchid!" she chirped excitedly as she pointed at the flower that she still held in her hand.

Ran? Was that her name? There was nothing there; nothing familiar about the title. But as she twisted the violet orchid in her grasp, and turned the name over and over in her thoughts, she felt a slow smile return to her face. It did have a pretty ring to it.

Kudou-san looked fully prepared to scold her. He didn't want the woman to have another meltdown from trying to force a memory. "Ayumi-chan-!"

But she interrupted him. "How did you know?"

And the man had to take a second to wonder if she really remembered and that was indeed her name. But based off the humorous twist to her lips, he could tell it was mostly to amuse the small girl. If it really was her name, she didn't know but she didn't appear to be about to argue it.

"I knew it," Ayumi-chan gasped happily. "It's because of your pretty eyes!"

"Ayumi!"

All three heads shot up to glance just before the Kudou manor gates. There were two boys that appeared to be the same age as the small girl and she figured they must be classmates.

"Oh! That's Genta-kun and Mitsuhiko-kun. I'm supposed to be working on school work with them." With that she practically skipped down the front entrance steps towards the two boys. "Bye Shinichi-onii-san! Bye Ran-nee-chan!"

Little girl long gone and now back Kudou-san glanced at her. "That was nice of you."

The woman was still sitting on the couch, violet orchid in her hand as she twirled the stem. "It's not like I had a name to begin with," she shrugged. She couldn't hide the warm feeling she felt though. For once, that she could remember, someone had given meaning to something in her life. Even if it was because of chance that her eyes happened to be the same color of that particular orchid. She had a name with a meaning. She had a meaning.

Her eyes slid over to Kudou-san whom hovered in the doorway. His own gaze shot to the floor and she couldn't really tell but it seemed like his cheeks gained a tint of color. Had he been watching her?

He cleared his throat. "I could get a small vase for that," he suggested looking up at her finally. "Did you want one, Ra-?"

He cut himself off abruptly and this time she was positive he turned red.

She wasn't at all offended by his forwardness. In fact, she felt better knowing that he now had a name for her. She wasn't nameless. He probably felt uncomfortable or rude calling her some child's nickname. "I have something else in mind . . and," glancing briefly at the flower again and back to him, a small grin twisted her lips. "You can call me Ran."

#@shinranweek #shinranweek21 #day 7 #creator's choice #fanfic #shinran #dcmk fanfic #dcmk #fanfiction #this is ridiculously long and im sorry

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i-did · 3 years

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hi hello i couldn't sleep last night so i was scrolling thru all ur asks and stuff and ur opinions and analyses are so interesting!!! and then afterwards i was thinking about what u were saying about mlm smut and i'd also been thinking about such things a little bit recently bc like.....at a certain point it becomes quite clear that the vast majority of smut-writing is just imitation. like there's the sex noise verb list and all and the whole general mechanics of the sex and those things just .... replicate over and over. and the whole thing w people writing mlm vs wlw smut regardless of their own sexual orientation..... like i feel like a big part of that is just a self-perpetuating thing. like if u have not had sex and u r getting all ur (pleasure-related) sex ed from fandom (even if u do watch porn, that doesn't rlly tell u how to describe stuff? idk) regardless of What fandom , the majority is going to be mlm smut. which is itself majority imitation of other mlm smut, imitating and imitating back to whoever knows what the first smut fanfic was etc. there's just way More to mimic than there is on the women side of things. which then becomes a self-perpetuating thing, bc the mimicry continues and generates more and more. and---if there are fundamental misunderstandings of anatomy involved---those self-perpetuate as well. and maybe even exaggerate. and yeah. does this all make sense? idk i was just thinking about it. like all the stereotypes and stuff continue bc writers are getting their inspo from other writers rather than their own brains. or something. idk!!!!! it's just all... divorced from reality? bc words. or something!! i hope u get what i'm trying to say. just thoughts i've been thinking. anyway i think ur thoughts are cool. and ur writing. ok bye have a good day!!

Okay yeah this is kinda messy but hope u see this, uhh yeah I think you're right about the echo chamber effect fr about stuff. I think it's a mix of projecting too sometimes. talk more under the cut and also link to a video essay since I love video essays.

Here’s a video that sort of touches on this topic:

“Gay fanfiction” by Sarah Z. (has CC)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8E_C00dKwI

This video begins to talk about fetishization at the end, but also… not really. The words “gay fanfiction” is used as a catchall, when really gay fanfiction is largely mlm written by non-mlm.

Fandom is a largely women's space dominated by the female gaze in a media industry world that is dominated by men and the male gaze. I'm really glad women have this space to explore creativity and queerness, and I don't expect the female gaze to go away, but I am still ultimately bummed out I can’t read most fanfic or interact with most fandom spaces without having fetishization in my face.

So about 80% of fandom is women, and most of those women aren't straight, but 90% of those women prefer mlm ships. Why don’t they prefer wlw ships? Well definitely part of it is the fact that queerbaiting is centered around white straight men, and then there is also the fact that women tend not to be written as well charcter wise. But the fact still remains that you get jerjean getting priority over Layla and Alvarez who are in canon just as much and are a canon wlw couple who actually interact as well as Alvarez could likely be a woc because of her Hispanic last name. Korasami doesn’t get nearly as much hype as zuko and saka, despite the fact that they are 2 fully dimensional characters who canonly kiss and hold hands, something the creators fought for and ended up having to sacrifice another reboot for.

I do believe the fandom echo-chamber is largely responsible for… a lot of things, like you're saying. But what's interesting is that the complaints I've heard about visual porn from non mlm in the fandom space is that they can’t get off to it because its for the male gaze and misogynistic usually. But they also don't seem to notice how the mlm smut circles has the female gaze and is also… almost always mlm. If it was a pure anatomical not knowing thing, I get that, but I also think that leads to the question of “then why the male body for porn, and not your own? The one you know and are familiar with?”

I know some people want to get outside of their own body for porn and don’t want to think of their own anatomy at all, but overall I'm still uncomfortable. If an anglo said “well I watch porn of only Mexicans so I don't self insert” I'm gonna be like … hhhh in a similar way. I understand people “like what they like” but I wish they also noticed said patterns in the first place. I understand the t4t tumblr porn circle, and how it's different from cis people who only watch trans porn.

I actually wished that instead of fandom focusing on mlm ships where some asshole guy hits on bottom troupe charcter for top troupe character to save, was instead… a wlw character experiencing said shitty getting hit on and other wlw swooping in. what's interesting is fandom writes a lot about misogynistic experiences without often realizing it. Ive read fanfic where guys get called sluts for sleeping with people or called bitch for speaking their mind, these arent things men usually experience, but rather women. Fandom has a lot of internalized misogyny and also queerphobia imo. Women characters often get pushed to the sidelines and men become the canvas for female fans to project onto.

There is this natural inclination to mlm. When people are talking about “gay shipping” or “gay books” or “gay feels” or even just “gay” mlm is what’s largely in mind. I honestly am kinda saddened by this because if gay fanfiction was really solely about writing more to feel represented, then you would see a lot of bi and ace and lesbian rep, but this isn't the case. Queer women are seriously underrepresented, and I want to hear their stories and read them in fanfiction as well as published. 50% of lgbt literature is mlm, and of that its largely written by women. Becky Albertalli, Rainbow Rowell, Maggie Stiefvater, are the YA big names and are all women writing mlm. Red white and royal blue is written by Casey McQuiston and Captive prince (which is not YA) is written by C. S. Pacat, who is non-binary, but is also TME and not mlm. These are all the big names in mlm lit, behind them is some gay men, but honestly their stories aren't preferred, they're not the right “flavor” for the consumers usually, who are largely women. In general YA consumers and authors are women, but I wish that they… just wrote about women too. I think there is a certain… snowball effect to the overrepresentation of mlm representing the whole LGBT community that leads to fetishization, as well as misogyny playing a factor in: less women characters being written well to write fanfic on, when they are written well they're taken less seriously or the audience struggles to relate to them, they're less marketable then men.

Idk I never feel “seen” or “represented” by any of the books above, which don't address boyhood and manhood and queerness intersecting really, and AFTG doesn’t either. I relate to AFTG as a trauma victim who has experienced a lot of what many of the characters go through and have gone through in the EC as well as them just overall being very well written characters, but I don't relate to it as a mlm really. I've never seen like.. gay voice or being straight passing or femphobia or how boyhood can be affected from a young age by those around you sensing you're ‘other’ or if you didn't experience this you feel outside the mlm community. Let alone sub cultures like bear and leather and pup, at most you see the word “he's such a twink” in fandom which... i fr hate non mlm using that word because it's usually used to replace the f-slur essentially, used derogatorily or to call him “such a bottom” and stuff like that. It’s like a joke or an insult.

Long story short, idk mang this was a ramble and I think I'm coning down with something. I wanna see more queer women rep and women authors writing about being a queer woman too. I think it's a complex web of fetishization and a bit of forbidden love yaoi culture (or it used to be in the BOYXBOY days) as well as misogyny on an industry level, creator level, as well as reader/consumer and fandom level. I don’t think it’s inherently wrong to explore other peoples stories and what we read has to be segregated, “only mlm are allowed to read and write mlm, only wlw are allowed to read and write wlw,” but I also think author’s intent and audience and background is telling, as well as overall statistics. Like about an hour ago I was looking for cookbooks in spanish or in english, and I was looking for some mexican food cook books, but I had to look for them using words in spanish because otherwise what came up was a bunch of “fiesta party, easy as uno dos tres authentic cooking!” and I was like… hm. Since I could tell they were marketing to anglos. (also the author’s last names were like michelle smith, james cooper, and this could be for a variety of reasons, but I trust Hispanic names more tbh and deadass would look at the authors pictures and if they had other books in Spanish or what their specialties were.)

anyways. not sure how to end this. uhm if anyone has any book recs (my to read list is like 500 books tho no joke) preferably not YA white mlm written by a white lady, hopefully queer women written by queer woman, LMK, I need more wlw and queer women stories on my list. I have a decent amount but always looking for more. I kinda wanna link my goodreads or my storygraph but I also don't want to get doxxed and it has my legal name on it so.

Also, I'm dyslexic and using spell check but if there's like some wild typos my b.

#ask #fandom politics #fandom culture #fandom psychology #mailob

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seriouslysam8 · 3 years

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Hello, Sam!

I have just started reading your series Moments in Time that I saw Breanie recommended and I must say, it is absolutely wonderful so far!

Croup: This was not at all what I expected! I stumbled across this universe recommended on Breanie’s tumblr and thought I better start in order. PUH-Tunia really is a bitch! You can just see the abuse already inflicted on him and he’s only three! The mental anguish of a three year old being told he can’t have nice things because he breaks them can’t have been good for poor Harry! No wonder’s so unsure of everything later on. Yelling at him because he’s sick like it’s his fault! Im surprised she even gave him medicine! Wanting him to sleep outside in the “frigid air” and only deciding not to because the neighbours might see really says a lot about her personality. Ive never read anything from Petunia’s point of view before but well done. I hate her even more than before. I look forward to following this new adventure that is your moments in time universe. Great read!

The Boggart of Grimmauld Place: This was just so heartwarming! Harry getting to spend even a little time with Remus and Sirius at Grimmauld Place was what was missing from canon. Memories of his grandparents, learning about them. It was just lovely! When Harry is ashamed of wanting Sirius to embrace him a little longer my heart ached for that poor boy who never got to feel real hugs and affection. He thinks he should be ashamed for wanting to feel it and he shouldnt! I blame for petunia for that. I meant to say that in Croup how she touched his forehead to check for a fever and he flinched like he’d been expecting her to hit him. Poor poor little Harry. I love how you play on the connection here between Harry and Sirius and even parallel it to the Potters and Weasleys. Harry being surprised that he would be in Sirius’ will at all. Harry just being surprised that people care about him. Makes me want to just give him a hug! What abeautiful story! Thank you.

Hide and Seek: This was so fun! I love the thought of them all playing hide and seek in Grimmauld Place and everyone joining in! Remus and Tonks making out in the cupboard was the best! It was definitely my favourite part and Sirius just teasing them! Hermione thinking something happened between Harry and Ginny. I loved how Harry opened up a little to Ginny. You could see he was actually really comfortable with her in a way he’s not with people. Absently massaging her wrist, touching her. He was caught up in her without realizing he was caught up in her. Adorable! The second addition was wonderful! I love how Ginny just took control, loosening his tie, taking off his jumper… they are the superior couple! While I am a tad disappointed to not see them making out at the end, I loved this story. Thank you.

Seventeen: Wow! This was a story I didn’t know I needed. Harry and Ron lovingly admitting they’re brothers warms my soul. I love that touch of giving them matching watches! Was that canon? If not it should be. Mrs weasley feeling guilty over Sirius is so like her. She loves and cares for Harry as if he’s her own son and it’s wonderful to see. The last bit with Ginny was perfect! They definitely had to do more than the uninterrupted kiss and I love how Harry just basked in her. The end made me so sad! His heart breaking over missing her birthday, lost opportunities. Very beautifully done! These one-shots are amazing and I look forward to reading more of them. Thank you.

The Demise of Walburga Black: This was absolutely amazing! The image you crafted of them laughing like lunatics as they destroyed her portrait was awesome! What I like most so far about your writing is how you gently weave in Harry’s relationship with the Weasleys. I love the idea of George moving in with him and Ron, that Harry would offer his home to him like that. I love that Harry goes to Mr Weasley for renovation advice. I think its so hot that Harry would renovate the Muggle way (so sexy to see men in a tool belt and I’m going to assume he’s shirtless and sweaty). I love that it was Angelina’s idea and how you casually had Ron toss in that George and Angelina were already sleeping together. George not really being drunk, is that because he drank a lot to cope with Fred’s death? I think it is. Harry’s reaction to being caught by Mrs Weasley, how his guilt eases into pleasure that Mrs Weasley would call both himself and Ron George’s “younger brothers” and his glee in being lectured by her in a motherly fashion. And dont even get me started on the scene with Ginny! The way he gushed on his drunken ramblings about making a home with her and wanting to raise a family and her not wanting to get her hopes up because he’s so drunk! I laughed out loud when Harry said that drunk Harry wants to do dirtier things with her or something like that. Just wonderful all around! Where’s Teddy in this story? I know he lives with Andromeda in canon but I thought I read that you have Harry raising him. Ah well, maybe the next tale will answer that question! Thank you.

That’s all I’ve had time to read so far, but I just wanted to say thank you for writing such a rich and vast universe! I can definitely see why Breanie recommends you so much! I have a few questions if you don’t mind.

1) What made you decide to write a story about Harry’s early childhood from the point of view of Petunia instead of Harry?

2) Do you think Petunia and Vernon physically abused Harry when he was little? It’s fairly obvious he had psychological abuse, but do you think there was more?

3) Do you think Ron and Hermione knew Harry had never played childish games like hide and seek as a child? Do you think the others knew and that’s why they all agreed to join in?

4) When do you think Harry actually started to notice Ginny? Was it in his fifth year and he just didn’t realize or do you think it was later? There is the scene where she puts him in his place over the possession bit and of course when they get kicked out of the library together. What are your thoughts?

5) Was it canon that Ron and Harry have the watches of Mrs Weasley’s brothers?

6) Do you believe George could handle his alcohol better because of his age or were you insinuating he had become accustomed to the drink after losing Fred?

7) Where is Teddy when Harry lives at Grimmauld Place? From the summaries of your stories I got the impression Harry raised him. But I haven’t read any further so I may be wrong.

Sorry for so many questions, but I am curious. I look forward to reading more. Thank you for your time. You’re amazing and I love your work! Thank you.

I have been following your review journey and getting more and more excited the further you get into the universe!! I am going to try my damndest to answer all these asks you’ve sent today but I have an incredibly busy weekend, so it may take me a little bit to answer them all especially if you’re asking specific questions since I won’t have access to my computer a lot. So, I will answer all your asks, but give me the weekend because I want to give you the best and most detailed answers I can!

1.) Honestly, Croup and Brontide (I promise, no spoilers) are the reason I started this as a series. I mentioned Harry had croup a lot as a child in Brontide and then wanted to write a companion piece. I thought, what better way to demonstrate Harry’s childhood then telling a story through Petunia’s POv because she’s absolutely horrible. Plus, I didn’t think I could get into the mindset of any other POV for that story.

2.) I definitely think there was physical abuse as well. It’s indicated in the books (Harry knowing to dodge away from a frying pan or something). So, I do feel they did physically abuse him as well. He has a few scars to show from it.

3.) No, I don’t think they knew. Maybe some suspected it but not know. I think everyone was just sick of cleaning Grimmauld Place and wanted to do something fun. It didn’t matter it was a child’s game. They just wanted something to do.

4.) I think he started to like Ginny as a friend in fifth year. I think he started to notice her as someone more than just Ron’s little sister. I don’t even think he noticed how he felt comfortable around her in fifth year either. I like to think all the dots started to connect earlier than 6th year but Harry just didn’t know what it all meant. Then 6th year come and he’s like crap… I really her! But it was building, unknowingly, to Harry before then. Ginny had been slowly forming into her own person in Harry’s mind and he felt comfortable and liked what he saw. He just didn’t connect it romantically at that time.

5.) No, the watches isn’t canon. I wish it was though. Honestly, when I wrote it, I totally forgot they mentioned Ron getting a brand new watch in canon until months after I wrote the story.

6.) George was a bit of an alcoholic after the war. It’s mentioned more in-depth in Brontide. But he definitely held his alcohol better because he has been spiraling into alcohol abuse for months by that point.

7.) So, again it’s mentioned in Brontide, but Teddy lived with Andromeda for the first year of his life before Harry gained custody of him. Andromeda didn’t feel comfortable with Harry raising Teddy at first. Once she got to know him and see how much Harry cared for Teddy, she handed over custody to Harry so that Teddy could live a more normal life and have parents and siblings.

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macgyvertape · 3 years

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Castlevania kinda had a pacing problem

spoilers for all of Netflix’s Castlevania. I haven’t seen much analysis for the show on tumblr, im honestly curious if discussions I had with irl friends mirror what fandom talks about

tldr: Castlevania seems inconsistently paced from season to season, and within season as well, leads to a lot of characters motivations feeling unclear so characters repeatedly explain why they are doing something while they’re doing it

overview of the seasons:

S1 I know somewhat of a test for Netflix but it has good main trio character establishment and sets the scale of the conflict

s2: pretty complete emotional arc for most characters and resolves the plot of killing Dracula while setting up additional characters to continue the story. Isaac, Hector, Carmilla all established with the audience as characters whose story would continue

honestly I would bet this is the most popular season

S3: s2 did a bit of worldbuilding, but this season really fleshed out the world with both a wide range of locations and exploring the question of “what now, Dracula is dead but vampires and night creatures remain”.

There were basically 4 plot threads: 1) Sypha/Trevor investigating the cult & Saint Germain; 2) Hector & Carmilla (also introducing Lenore, Striga, Morana); 3) Isaac’s journey of revenge & self discovery; 4) Alucard sits around the castle and is betrayed.

overall characters roughly feel like they are in the same place if not worse. A big criticism I saw at the time, which hold up after rewatching this before s4 is nothing felt resolved for the main characters

I would say this season is where the pacing issues start to become apparent, juggling 4 plot threads that lack a central theme or even mutual character connection. If there was a central theme it would be “humans are awful to each other”. The Judge doing Hot Fuzz style murders, The Wizard in the tower, Sumi & Taka

S4: it starts with the same 4 plot threads, though upfront it is made clear that the plot theme is “people are trying to resurrect Dracula”, and the progression of the plot works to resolve unrelated plot threads until the main trio reunites for the boss fights. To me and my friends watching it was obvious that the show would reunite the main trio, the question was how and how far into the run time.

Season 4 is why I’m writing this essay, for the past 2 days I’ve been like, yeah that character sure explained their motives repeatedly maybe with some philosophical discussion, but it’s just such a weird place considering where they were in s3

Alucard’s arc:

Where he was left in season 3, it was after killing people he had trusted in self defense and impaling their corpses. It was clearly meant to parallel Dracula’s dislike of humanity. However overall his character lacked a proactive motivating force.

Honestly the most interesting thing I found in s3 was Alucard clearly misses Sypha and Trevor, however they don’t miss him or refer to him

One reason Sumi & Taka betray Alucard is for the secrets and power of Castlevania. After inviting the village including St Germain who Alucard was warned of into the Castle, Alucard makes 0 effort to secure anything, not even his personal childhood room. Guess he really learned nothing

Discussing St Germain, I think it’s funny that they had a several minute flashback sequence for his lost girlfriend (who doesn’t have a name or a voice actor), to remind the viewer of who he is, and to justify how he’s suddenly back and down for murder.

In s4 there is the call to help the village, and the walk back to the castle is a montage of Alucard opening up to Greta and becoming friendly literally overnight. He laughs off the impaling, and basically all of the darker things he went through in season 3, which has me asking what was the point of his season 3 arc then?

Honestly writing this I realize the biggest parallel he has with Dracula is the call to action from a bold woman with a dramatic entrance speech which then leads to a romance

Isaac’s arc:

in s3, with all the other themes of “humanity sucks” I was always unsure if the townspeople were meant to appear irrational while attacking a larger force instead of letting him pass through an leave, or him not caring about how he’s provoking them is meant to show his insanity

ive seen the discussion elsewhere, curious about the Discourse here

is s4 Isaac has the whole monologue about how he now has agency but him gaining that agency was his s3 arc. In s4 he’s already at the point of accepting it. By the end of s4 he’s one of those who comes the furthest from his first character appearance to his last.

s4e5 where of Isaac attacking Carmilla in Isaac’s 2nd appearance had him resolving like 4 plot threads at once (Carmilla, Striga& Morana, Hector, and Isaac himself).

but i do wonder if Trevor, Sypha, or Alucard even know any of these people exist. I think not

I was honestly confused if I missed a scene from his dialogue about building something and what is inherent nature, to “My plan has evolved, my plan is now conquest” because he only conquests the one castle and the rest is left unclear

Upon rewatch the connection there is “killing [the wizard] felt just ... I liked that feeling”, so the show says that Isaac in the end attacked Carmilla for the sake of justice and not revenge.

Isaac in his last conversation expresses the theme of s4 “build something new on these old bones, where people can live for the future”

however, his arc honestly feel scenes were cut, and then dialogue was written around it. He’s the only living character who doesn’t show up in the epilogue and the sentient night creature “what if I could empty hell” dialogue was some of the most interesting worldbuilding. Night creatures with sentience and possibility of regaining memories!!!!

The Council of Sisters & Hector’s arc:

oh I’ve already seen s4 discourse about Lenore/Hector while searching for character analysis, a chunk of it seems to be rationalizing the absolute difference between how s3 ended with these characters and s4. It was extremely confusing for me and my friends; wondering if 1) was Hector showing more emotional intelligence than before and putting on a facade to cover up hatred? Nope 2) did more time pass than 6 weeks for there to be some kind stockholm syndrome? No, Hector seems fine to let Lenore kill herself

The slave control ring: played up in the climax of s3 and easily solved s4. s3 Lenore says if he tries to harm them, flee, or take it off it would cause crippling pain, in s4 Hector just easily cuts off his own finger.

for a control ring that they take time to show a version being on the Rebus, it doesn’t do much controlling of Hector

also guess the definition of “do harm” just refers to direct action

Lenore in s4: has no purpose in conquest, has that useless remarked on by multiple characters, is imprisoned, then kills herself after a genre aware philosophical discussion. This essay is long enough, but what the fuck happened to this character who ended s3 clearly physically and sexually abusive? Seriously this was one of the biggest writing changes to the point where she was treating Hector as an equal. Compare her last words in s3 “shh the real people [vampires] are talking”. The change in the relationship is actually something I would have taken being shown, or atleast told of what exactly caused this change other than the vague “you adopted him”

Striga&Morana get the best arc of the Council. 3 scenes: the tent argument, Daybreak armor fight & argument resolution, declaration of feelings and turning away. You could argue Castlevania is plot to be connective tissue between fight scenes, but for all the dialogue about human resistance in different seasons it was nice to see it. Overall the scenes were short but had a lot of showing what their relationship is not just telling,

unlike Carmilla. For as much hyping up as they did with her, and as much power as she had, she only appeared in 2 episodes and no other group except Isaac knew about her military conquest.

the map scene where she states her motive for conquest of wanting to take things from old men is the key example of how characterization became tell not show. How interesting was that monologue compared to the past seasons flashback to her murmuring the old vampire lord, or all her repeated insults of men/man-children that shows how she judges people??

That monologue had to carry the weight of justifying the Sisterhood bonds falling apart as well as why her motivation changed from building a human pen from Styria to Braila to world conquest. I think it did so poorly

Sypha & Trevor

really Sypha & Trevor have the main plot in the show. I checked and post season 1 the only episode they don’t appear in is s4e6, which is entirely devoted to the Isaac, Hector, and Council of Sisterhood arc. Their partnership and adventures are the main plot of the show.

Its easy to see what Trevor’s arc was over the show: coming to peace with the deaths of his family, taking up the mantle of being a Belmont, and starting a new family with Sypha.

With Sypha I actually had to scroll through tv tropes for what is her character arc, and I guess hers is disillusionment from adventure and life outside the speakers? My friends joke that Sypha’s magic is what the plot demands to look cool in a fight, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Tangent: the ending of their arc was easy to guess: as soon as Trevor went to fight the final boss alone I literally said “oh i bet Sypha’s pregnant, Trevor’s doing a heroic sacrifice, theyll use the unexplained magical dagger mcguffin, and 60/40 odds that he goes through an infinite corridor to outright come back vs just the implication he might come back”

I guess my final thought of the show, was overall the SUPER Final Boss got my by surprise. It was a good twist I enjoyed. Not that Death appeared, I had guessed that from the heavy foreshadowing, but I was surprised by who it was, because I had thought I thought the characters involved feeling shoehorned into the plot was just more bad writing. The Alchemist who put St Germain on the path or murder for no discernible motive for helping? Sure gotta move the plot along. New Dracula court member Varney who has a whole introduction with almost every character he meets and banter about his smell? Sure thats basically how all characters talk with a snarky and acerbic voice.

#Castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania meta #castlevania season four #overall i enjoyed the show #id love to find some discussion of the show #this wound up being more of a recap than a persuasive essay #but i think my tldr thesis statement stands

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psychovigilantewrites · 4 years

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Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N: I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW: mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd imagine #dont call me that

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heavymetalover · 5 years

Text

Call Me Daddy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

{i imagined scruffy sojourn michael w this one but i left the description kind of open so yall can imagine whichever teehee}

Summary: Michael is about to become your step dad and the two of you have an unusual relationship…

Warnings: DADDY KINK DUH, smut, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!michael, hickies, rough sex.

WC: 5.5k

A/N: ive done the unforgiven… omg.

this is a different format from my other stuff. i didnt see anyone doing this and yall know me and my daddy issues I HAD TO. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE anon me, message me, whatever, if you want more parts cuz im down.

~~~~

You had an average run-of-the-mill life with your mom. The two of you lived in a sizable suburban Los Angeles estate; your mom worked for most of her waking hours to keep you comfortable and you worked your ass off to stay in your top college. You had a few friends that would pop into your life when your mom left town, a few boyfriends here and there, even your mom dated around. Everything felt normal until Michael came into the picture.

Your mom has been dating Michael for a few months now, but every time he’s around he brings an eerie feeling along with him. Despite being nearly half her age, he has the soul of somebody from the eighteen hundreds. The way he composes himself, how he speaks with the utmost confidence and how his stares linger too long; his glacial blue eyes always watch you like he can see right through your clothes.

You’ve been skeptical of him since the day you met him. When you shook his hand and accidentally removed one of his large rings, he nonchalantly told you to keep it. You decided to sell the huge diamond-encrusted Cartier ring and use the twenty thousand dollars to help pay for college.

Since then you’ve avoided the two of them in protest of their relationship. You knew it was juvenile to evade them, but the man turned you on more than you’d like to admit. His soft-waved blonde hair, fluffy lips, jawline for days, prominent cheekbones, and how can you forget the eyes… Everything about him looked planned, like he was designed to be flawless.

On a mundane weekend morning, your mom calls you from downstairs. “Y/n!” her voice echoes through the halls.

You stop reading your favourite book and take out an earbud. “Yeah?!” you yell back, looking up from the pages for a moment and waiting for her to say something else, but the house is silent. You pretend to ignore her call and go back to the story.

“Y/n!” your mom yells again.

You sigh and drop your book, rolling off of your bed and skipping down the stairs to see what fresh hell awaits. As you approach your mom, who’s opening her mouth to call you again, you smell something unusual. Something you haven’t smelt since your dad left. Cologne.

“Honey, he’s here,” your mom whispers to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You try turning away to run back to your room, but your mom stops you. “Can you be nice for once, please?” she begs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with,” you groan and shimmy her hand off of your shoulder.

Michael works at the dining table, setting up three plates and utensils. You’re planted to the ground in awe, you’ve never had to eat dinner with the two of them before. It crosses your mind that they must be confronting you about bypassing them these past few months, your fight or flight response is already kicking in.

Michael looks up at you, finally acknowledging you and capturing you in his ocean blue eyes with a nanosecond of contact. Your mom moves in between the two of you and takes some food out of a paper bag. “Michael and I wanted all of us to eat dinner together,” she skips to stand beside him. You widen your eyes at her and cross your arms in objection. She widens her eyes back, you can practically hear her nagging you to be polite.

Michael puts his arm around your mom. “Your mother and I thought it best for us to… start acting like a family,” he says.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t hold back your smile. “A family?” you laugh. You purse your lips and start walking backwards, aching to escape Michael’s spell. “Mmm, I think I’ll pass,” you turn around to start walking away.

“Y/n,” your mom snaps. You stop in the middle of a step and twist back towards them, taking small, reluctant steps to approach their little function. “We have something to tell you,” she says and immediately after, vaults her hand out to you.

You take it hesitantly and look at her, still trying to figure them out and failing. “What?” you ask.

“No, honey, look at it,” she rolls her eyes, “look at my hand.”

You gawk at her hand, her third finger is dressed in a huge diamond ring. It looks big enough to pay off your whole house. You unintentionally let out a dramatic gasp and drop her hand, she continues to hold it up for you. “It’s the bloodiest diamond he could find in the LA area,” she explains, “We’re in love.” She smiles and places her hand on Michael’s chest, looking up at him with hearts in her eyes. He gifts a small kiss on her lips.

You scoff and shake your head. Any tension that you felt from Michael has dissolved. He’s been dating your mom for five months, five fucking months. Who does he think he is? Are they both nuts? “You’re joking, right?” you ask, completely stunned by how brash the whole situation is. “Are you guys pranking me?”

Michael grins at you, it makes you melt and you hate yourself for it. “Call me daddy,” he sneers.

----

It’s a quaint Wednesday evening when you decide to take a break from studying and grab a snack. You’re scrolling through Tumblr when you walk out of your room and smash your face against a sturdy chest. “Jesus!” you gasp, looking up at Michael standing in front of your door; one of his hands is in a fist, ready to knock on your door, while the other is behind his back. “You scared the shit out of me!” You playfully push his chest away from you, trying to shake off the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He drops his fist as he stumbles back slightly. It’s the first time you’ve talked to him since they announced their engagement. Michael moved in about a month ago and it’s been hard to ignore him since he sits, day in day out, typing away on his laptop in your living room.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “But I have to admit it’s nice to hear your voice again.”

You lean against your doorframe, trying to act casual as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of you completely. “Did my mom come home from work or something? She send you here?” you ask, declining his attempts to meet your eyes, instead you stare at his lapel.

“No, I got you something,” he explains, wiggling the surprise behind his back.

“Another Cartier ring?” you joke. “Oh, or is it a new girlfriend? Because that would be even better.” His eyes find the ceiling in annoyance and it feels rewarding, you were starting to think he couldn’t be cracked. “Did you get me an apartment, so I don’t have to live with another failed marriage?”

“No,” he snaps back, starting to sound impatient with your infantile attitude. You straighten up at his belligerent tone. He slides into your room, keeping the gift hidden behind his back. “It’s thoughtful, something I know you’d like, but… if you’re hellbent on loathing my existence, why should I be so kind?” he asks. He somehow manages to speak reserved, yet impossibly intimidating. Every word that leaves his lips demands to be heard, it sends chills down your spine. “Right?” he prompts.

You take in a breath. “Right,” you force yourself to agree, mostly because you’re curious to see what the present is. Another part of you is getting bored of acting like a hermit and going days without social interaction. “Obviously it feels weird; I barely know you and you’re becoming my dad and you moved in, everything just seems so fast,” you explain yourself. You saunter back into your room to meet him. “I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry, Michael. Seriously.”

He takes a step closer to you, you’re only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his body and fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. “We’ll work on ‘Michael’ later,” he replies. You’re about to question what he means by that when he takes the present out from behind his back. He holds a black bag in between the two of you and you immediately recognize the store. “I heard you on the phone with your friend about something red, lacey, with a bow. I think I found it…”

You take the Victoria’s Secret bag from him without saying a word. You have no words to say. You don’t know if you should thank him or refuse the gift or slap him for listening to your personal conversations. Your mind races wondering if you’d gossiped about his good looks on the phone with your friend.

You silently pry open the bag and paw through the lingerie, mountains of cute panties and bras, digging through things you were never able to afford but always wanted. And, of course, Michael bought the red, lacey one piece you were talking about with your friend. There’s a stillness in the room as you look through the bag. “You bought all of this for me?”

“Yeah, I can’t see how your mom would fit into any of those.”

All of the pieces are just your size, it’s the perfect gift… just not from your stepdad. “How did you even know my size?” you stop looking at the bag and make the mistake of falling into his eyes.

“I went through your clothes,” he carelessly shrugs.

You drop the present by your side. “You went through my clothes, like, my lingerie?”

He slowly nods his head, acting as if it isn’t strange for him to invade your privacy how he did. You huff and he begins looking agitated with you again. “Would you like if I returned all this stuff? I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” you mutter and kick the bag away from him, you’re not jeopardizing this gift with your uncontrollable sass.

“Good,” he spits back.

“Just… don’t think you can just buy yourself into the family,” you mock. You catch yourself subconsciously crossing your arms over your chest to give yourself a breast lift, but you don’t stop.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks. He looks down at your cleavage and it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. “You have quite the collection of lingerie you keep hidden at the bottom of your drawers,” he observes, “like a dirty guilty pleasure.” You peer up at him, again trying to read him, and again failing. He uses one of his fingers to hook onto the thin fabric of your shirt, your tits are practically pouring out and begging to be the center of attention. He tugs at the fabric, looking under your shirt and inspecting your boobs suffocated in one of your intimate Victoria’s Secret pickups. “Kitten’s all dressed up?” he whispers, his fingertips graze the embroidered details.

You bite your lip, anticipating the second he’ll rip the bra off your chest. “It’s all for you,” you tease, pushing your tits together even more, “I’m always dressed up for you, Michael.”

He breathes in, groaning under his breath. “I thought I told you,” his voice is low and intimidating, “call me daddy.”

You’re drinking in a breath of his cologne, shifting onto the tips of your toes to give his soft lips a rugged kiss, when the sound of keys rattling downstairs takes you out of it. Michael still stares at you, his fingers continue to linger over your clothed tits. “Michael!” your mom calls from downstairs.

You look up at him with fear in your puppy dog eyes and Michael grins. He shoots you one last, knowing, glance before leaving your room. He leaves you without saying two words. “Yeah, babe,” he answers your mom, closing your bedroom door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

----

Holding back your gags, you grasp your friend’s hair as she projectile vomits peach schnapps into an expensive toilet bowl. Her phone rings in her pocket and you huff, digging through the pockets of the leather jacket you lent her and pulling out a vibrating iPhone. You pick up the phone with an ill “hello”, answering too late and looking down at the screen. She must’ve ordered an Uber a while ago, there’s a ton of notifications that the driver’s outside. “Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Your ride is here!” you yell at her, trying to pull her onto her feet.

“What?!” she yells into the toilet bowl.

You roll your eyes and lean down beside her ear, “I said, your ride is here!” you yell over the thumping music.

Your friend stumbles around, trying to stand up in her six-inch heels. You pull her onto you and her head rests on your shoulder, she goes limp against you. “Stop, come on!” you shout over the music. “You have to g-”

You’re cut off by your friend puking onto an expensive mini dress you bought for tonight’s party. This shindig was supposed to be a fun little escape from your school life, your home life, Michael, all your stress. You expected to make new friends, meet hot guys, but instead you came an hour late and have been nursing your friend the whole night. You’re seriously going to kick her ass tomorrow.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her breath reeking of throw up.

You toss her arm over your shoulder and start walking her out of the bathroom. “I’m going to kill you tomorrow, you know that?” you say in her ear and she lets out a small, apologetic whimper.

A cute guy who was talking you up earlier approaches the two of you. He holds two red cups in his hands and shrugs when he sees you. “What the fuck, y/n? You disappeared on me!” he talks to you over the bass-y music. “I got our drinks!” he shakes the cups in his hands and hands one over to you, as if completely ignoring your drunken friend hanging off of your side.

Your friend staggers, nearly bringing you down with her. The cute guy helps you pick her back up and you sigh, annoyed at how much of a disaster your night has turned into. He knits his eyebrows at your sour attitude, then finding the vomit on your dress, he looks back up at you. You see his doe eyes grow apologetic when he mouths a weak “sorry” to you, stepping out of your way. You shake your head as if telling him it’s fine; you just wish you had more time to get to know him.

You continue dragging your friend along your side and hear someone call out your name from behind you. You whip your head around; your hair irritatingly sticks to your lip-gloss. “Hope to see you again!” he calls after you. You nod in his direction and resume walking your friend, who is nearly passed out on your shoulder, to the front door. When you walk out of the house, you’re assaulted with the smell of salt water. Despite this night turning into one of the most frustrating nights of your life, at least you got to visit a Malibu beach house.

A big, black SUV is parked outside of the house and you rush her to the door. Opening the backseat and stuffing her inside the seats in the back. “The app says where you’re taking her, right?” you ask the Uber driver, your voice sounds muted from being struck by loud music all night.

He nods and reads out her address. “Y/n,” your friend slurs, gripping onto your arm with all her strength, “you’re a really nice… you’re a… you’re a really good friend, you know that? Like, seriously,” she pauses to hiccup, “thank you for taking care of me tonight.” Her words are so slurred that it’s nearly impossible to make out her compliment, but you just nod in hopes it’ll get her to let go. She drops your arm and hands you your pricey leather jacket, bunched up in a ball, before shutting the van door.

You throw on your jacket, protecting yourself from the ocean’s breeze, and watch the van drive away when you notice a familiar car parked across the street. The SUV blocked a four-seater Maserati parked on the other side of the road. Michael’s sedentary in the driver’s seat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You balance yourself on your ridiculously tall heels and stomp over to his car. He doesn’t even see you coming, he’s leaned back in the driver’s seat reading a book.

You crouch down and knock on the glass of his window. His eyes meet yours for a second and he slowly rolls down the window. A mob of cigarette smoke escapes the car and he chucks the stick onto the pavement. You’re both quiet for a few moments, the crashing ocean waves fills up the silence. “How did you know I was here?” you ask.

He finally puts down his book and looks at you. “Just trying to be a good dad,” he responds.

“Ugh, ew,” you groan. “You’re my step dad.”

He adjusts his seat to start driving, his eyes looking you up and down as he does. “Looks like your night went a little… rough,” he jokes and nods towards the puke on your dress. “You need a ride?”

You look back at the party. As much as you wanted to live up the night, you’re already in too much of a bad mood to go back in there. It doesn’t help that your new dress is covered in puke, too. You turn back around to Michael, he awaits your answer with a cocked brow. “You can’t tell mom,” you sigh, walking around the car to get into the passenger’s seat. The luxury car’s butterfly doors obnoxiously open up for your entry. “Not a word,” you assure him as you slide into the leather seat.

He starts up the car and one of his Led Zeppelin albums begins to play. “I picked you up at the library,” he quips.

He starts driving along the empty coast and you decide to skip the seatbelt, you don’t want to dirty his car with your friend’s retch. His eyes glance over to your seat for a moment, he notices you second guessing the seatbelt and puts a hand on your thigh. You look up at him and intuitively try to tempt him, biting your bottom lip and batting your lashes. “I’ll protect you if we crash,” he whispers, his fingers lightly caress your thighs.

You put your hand on his and slide him further up your leg. He keeps one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, but when his eyes do meet yours, it makes all the nerves in your core feel like a wave pool. Your dress is short enough for him to reach your panties without any hassle. Your hand is on his when his fingers begin to rub your pussy, still dressed in a pair of panties he bought you. “Baby’s already wet for daddy,” he says under his breath, kneading your clit in small circles.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies, you’ve never felt a nervousness so intense before. A rush of thoughts suddenly violates your mind, you try to shut them up but they keep coming. This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re disgusting for enjoying this. His fingers have been in your mom before.

You dig your nails into his skin and pull his hand away from you; bending over in your seat and clutching onto your stomach. You only had one drink tonight, you shouldn’t be feeling this sick.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, “are you okay?”

“I think I need air,” you grumble through the sudden sickness. “Can you pull over?”

Michael only takes a minute to find an empty parking lot on the beach and pull into it. You get out of the car without saying a word to him and take off your heels, throwing them into the backseat of his car. You’re already starting to feel your anxiety subside as you shuffle through the cool sand and pace towards the erratic waves crashing on shore. This is one of the reasons you loved LA, the tons of tiny, empty beaches. The ocean at night, and how it constantly smelt like salt water, how it relaxed you.

The breeze blew through your hair, a part of you felt like running into the crashing waves, but a voice took you out of it. “Y/n!” Michael called behind you, over the sound of the whistling wind. He trudges in the sand to get to you; you faintly snicker at his dedication. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s closer to you.

When you see him, face glowing in the moon light, golden locks blowing in the ocean breeze, face twisted with concern, it all settles. Everything feels like it’s in the right place. Your stomach, although still turning with butterflies, no longer feels sick.

There’s a pause between the two of you; both of you deciding to admire each other instead of the beautiful ocean view beside you. Then, it feels like everything clicks. Like the two of you mentally communicate your longing for each other, your desire. Both shutting your eyes and diving in for a kiss at the same time.

His lips smash against yours, sucking your face, and his tongue quickly invades your mouth. He kisses you like he’s craved your lips for years, passionately cleaning up your mouth with his eager tongue.

Michael works your jacket off of your shoulders and you shimmy it to the ground. He unzips your dress, the zip running along your naked back sends a shiver crawling down your spine. He abandons your lips for a moment to pull down your dress, exposing your bare chest and expensive panties. You’re too lost in lust to even realize you’re half naked on a public beach.

You’re both panting and releasing all of the built-up sexual tension. He stands back up and kisses you again, his hands cup your ass and he gives an echoed smack; his fingers creep down your legs. He grabs onto the back of your thighs and hoists you up, you lightly yelp into his mouth and wrap your legs around him. His large hands hold you up and he leans down, resting you onto the jacket you’ve thrown onto the sand.

Once you’re laid down, he begins rubbing your pussy again. His cold rings adding a different sense of pleasure as he rubs you into entropy. He slides your feeble panties to the side and spits down on your cunt, shoving his finger inside you. You moan at the sudden intrusion, taking in a breath of the salt-scented air. “That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers, adding in another finger, “I want to hear you moan for daddy.”

You take in a breath and whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, slowly pulsing against your g-spot. He touches you as if he already knows which parts make you crumble. “Ooh yeah, daddy,” you cry and grind on his fingers, pushing him deeper inside you, “right there.”

“You’re my dirty little slut, huh?” he asks, gliding in another finger. Your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Little girl likes to get fucked by her daddy?” He adds another finger, completely stretching you out. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t reply. “I asked you a question.”

You meet his cold eyes for a second, before you throw your head back in pleasure. “Yes!” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise in your body. Your sensitive cunt throbs under his gluttonous fingers, persistently fucking you and begging for more. “Yes, oh, keep fucking me just like that, daddy!”

His fingers find a rhythm inside of you, constantly bringing you to the brink of climax and slowing down. “Such a dirty little girl,” he teases and spits on your soaking cunt. He pulls out his fingers and holds them to your lips. You grab his hand and suck on his long fingers, tasting the cool metal rings mixed with the sweet taste of your pussy.

You sit up and lock your lips with his again. Both, you and Michael, unbutton his shirt; you want to feel his flesh against yours as soon as possible. When you get to the bottom, you slide your hands up his body and square the shirt off of his shoulders. His perfect, porcelain skin shines in the moonlight. You want to appreciate it for a moment, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

He’s propped on his knees, unzipping his black pants and bringing them down to pull his erection out of his briefs. It springs out when you start grabbing for it, he moves back and clicks his tongue. “My greedy little girl,” he mocks, “you don’t get a taste until daddy says you do.”

He pushes you down with one of his hands. His touch is so delicate, yet so commanding. Everything he does is done with conviction and a power that only you could dream of, he is inherently dominant over you. He strokes his long, girthy length over you, you’re practically drooling at the sight. He spits on himself and rubs it into the head. “Spit on it,” he orders.

You sit up and weakly spit on the tip of his cock; it’s too late when you notice your mouth is dry from nervousness. He shakes his head. “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even spit on me right,” he sneers, divorced from the nasty words leaving his lips. He presses his dick against your folds and your fingers curl into your jacket, awaiting the moment he plunges into you. “Say the word, baby girl, say you want me,” he’s lingering at your entrance.

“Please,” you whine, your pussy is beating against his hard cock, “please dad.”

He pushes his head inside you and you grab his arms for support, digging your nails into his skin. He’s so thick, you’ve never felt something so large obtruding your tight cunt. He moves in slowly, reading your stunned facial expressions to see if he should continue stuffing himself inside of you. You let out tiny weeps as he digs deeper into your hole, but you can’t manage much more.

Michael thrusts himself into you until he’s balls deep, even he can’t help but groan. “My little girl is so fucking tight,” he grunts under his breath. He starts to hammer himself into you, going so deep that you feel like pushing him back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. His cock is so thick that it hits every nerve you could imagine; it’s hard to gather a single word.

He lets out a small chuckle at your reticence. “My innocent baby’s never felt a real cock before, huh?” he taunts, still pounding his length into you. You open your mouth to speak, but settle on shaking your head. One distinct tear runs down the side of your face while stifled cries pass your trembling lips with each time his balls smack into your ass. “You’re taking me like a good fucking girl,” he admires, “my good little slut.”

He lifts up your leg and rests your foot on his shoulder. You’re twisted onto your side, trying to look over your shoulder to see how vigorously he pounds into your cunt. Michael’s new positioning hits exactly in your g-spot, you feel your leg shaking under his grip. “H-holy shit,” your voice trembles, you let out a built-up breath. “Keep going, daddy! Right there, right there, I’m so close,” you’re begging, voice is flooded with desperation. You don’t care how childish you sound, you want nothing more than to come all over Michael’s big dick. “Don’t move, please, please,” you grab onto his arm again.

Tears overflow your eyes when you look into his. Just seeing his determined light blue eyes peering back at you makes you unravel even more. He has no remorse for how weak he’s making you, how vulnerable you’ve become, his unmistakable dominion turns you on.

He listens to your wails, finally granting you the satisfaction you’ve been begging for and plows into your g-spot. Your grip on him gets tighter as he thrusts harder, you’re almost certain he’s going to leave some swelling deep inside your cunt. “Your dick is so, fucking, good,” you breathe in between thrusts.

Michael doesn’t give up, keeping up the same pace and fucking you exactly how you want him to. You’re about to praise his long cock some more when you’re thrown into climax. You try looking back up at him, but you can’t say a word; your mouth hangs wide open with nothing but small chokes croaking out. He can see how dazed he’s made you and shoves your face into the ground, pushing your nose against the leather of your jacket. “You’re going to take daddy’s cock like a good little girl,” he seethes, suffocating your head into your jacket. “Don’t come,” he demands.

He continues punching your g-spot with his huge cock, you feel your pussy spasming under his rough thrusts. He holds both of your arms back, shifting you into doggy-style. His balls slap against your sore clit and you feel yourself starting to ejaculate. “Fuck!” you scream into the breeze of the empty beach. Your cunt twitches and gushes its balmy juices all over Michael’s hard cock.

He slows down his pace and pulls your arms up towards him, you feel his heaving chest against your back. “What did I just fucking say?” he fumes, tugging your arms even closer to him. “Answer me.”

“You told me not to come,” you answer in a syrupy, naïve voice.

He grabs both of your tits to push you flush against him, maintaining his rough thrusts into your cunt. “That’s right,” he whispers in your ear, “baby didn’t fucking listen.” He smacks your tits with both of his hands, striking you hard. You jump at how ruthless he hits you, it makes your stomach flutter again. His full lips lug along your neck. “Remember who you belong to,” he speaks into your neck, sending an iciness throughout your entire body.

Michael digs his teeth into your skin, sucking up your flesh while he continues massaging your breasts, pinching at the hard peaks your nipples have formed. He sucks so hard it stings, you wonder how that would feel on your pussy. His love bite begins to hurt and you shift your head away from him, he snickers. “Who do you belong to?” he whispers, lips chafing the shell of your ear.

He pinches your nipples even harder and you sob in pleasure. “Mmm, you,” you respond, looking over your shoulder to give his lips a frail kiss. “I belong to you, daddy.”

He takes in a deep breath as if shaking off your spell and regaining his confidence. He pushes you onto the ground again and goes back to fucking you like a ragdoll. “You better remember that,” he breathes, mercilessly pummeling himself into you again.

He holds both of your arms back once more, driving himself into you so hard that you’re concerned about cervix bruising. His pace slows down a bit and you look back at him, his mouth drapes open and he stares down at the back of your head. He pushes you away as he orgasms, savagely shoving your face back into the ground, as you feel his warm seed spilling inside your wet cunt. Michael groans from deep within his chest, letting out a long sigh when he’s done. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, you sexy bitch.”

You let out a little giggle at this and he joins. He hauls himself out of you and you feel all of your muscles relax. You shift onto your back, looking up at Michael in disbelief. You’re too caught up in euphoria to comprehend what just happened. All you can think of in this moment is how fucking good he was. Even Michael has a dumbfounded look on his face.

He shakes his head and liberates a nervous laugh, “We’re so fucked up.”

You can say that again.

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