#it has rape in it (not between the main characters) but that can be skipped | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hollyhomburg · 1 year

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Before I Leave You (Pt.58)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development but the pack won't let you drown. They have different ideas on how to help you. Some more damaging than others.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Cuddling, scent marking, Nightmares, graphic depiction of fake character death, Discussions of past rape, No explicit depictions of past rape/sexual assault, past domestic-abuse, flashbacks, safe-wording during sex (Sorta), unpleasant sexual encounters, under-negotiated kink, mentioned sex toys, crying during sex, Sad blow jobs, small dick jungkook, allusions to past eating disorders, anxiety, implied self-hate, self-esteem issues, non-verbal main character.

W/c: 12.9k

A/N: this chapter was originally supposed to be a lot longer- but i got too in depth with it and had to split it up. This is easily one of the more heavy chapters of bily (and that's saying something), so please be mindful of the tags! For anyone wanting to skip the super triggering parts in the next chapter i've highlighted a sentence in red font both after the first triggering section and before the very triggering ending.

Special thanks to @imperiussexrex for helping me with jk's part <3 they're the bestest <3

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

"Sleep well, my lovely little spy."

Jin’s eyes flutter open, looking up at the beta who's watching him with a gentle but noticeably tense smile. Jin’s mouth is dry, he could pretend he didn’t hear anything but there would be no use. The truth wouldn’t change.

"Holy shit.” Jin’s whole body is ridged. Ready to run. In panic mode. But Yoongi’s hand settles on his shoulder. It’s the same touch as always and just as gentle and kind as it was both this mourning and 6 years ago. Yoongi has always been a kind soul, regardless of every secret Jin's ever learned to love about him.

Letting himself be known in return feels a little bit more perilous. Jin’s heart thuds against his fingertips. He swallows hard.

Yoongi hums, agreeing with Jin’s assessment. He runs a hand gently through Jin’s hair. Tugging away loose a knot. “Holy shit indeed.”

Everything is fine. In the wake of the dead body, everything in the pack is absolutely fine.

(That’s a lie, everything is definitely not fine, everything is in fact- falling apart. Like a butterfly larva worming its way to crystalize. Carving its way towards both womb and tomb. Something that changes you or destroys you.)

Jin and Yoongi can only hope.

It’s only hope after all. How much damage can it really do?

~-~

Your unraveling starts with the Nightmares.

Tonight, it’s a dark tangle of half-forgotten moments. A movie with all of the scariest scenes copied and pasted. Bright punctures of feelings like blood dripping down your chin and the tang of it in your mouth. Geumjae’s scent in your nose as he shoves your mouth against his skin. All of it. Every unhappy memory that your psyche has locked away for later drags you down like the tide would drag a stone to a watery grave.

Until the moments condense like a figure rising through fog and you’re sitting in that house again. The one with the yellow brocade curtains pulled closed across the windows so that no one sees what happens inside.

You're sitting with Geumjae at the dining room table. The elaborate meal in front of you rises with steam and smells divine calling you like a moth to honey. The cutlery is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. A million dancing tiny versions of you stare back with vacant doll-like eyes.

You remember this meal; you remember what happened to you on this morning. The soreness between your legs reminds you of that horror. You remember how hard you worked after he left in the morning after leaving you in a bloody heap on the bathroom floor. You remember hoping that if you did everything you absolutely could to prepare this meal, He’d be satisfied and he wouldn’t hurt you again.

But avoiding rape is never quite so easy.

It was foolish to hope back then. Geumjae was a man of routine and he required your body every morning and evening without fail. But hoping is so hard to avoid, like an itch under your skin that demands biting nails, a furious sort of wanting. Hope is nothing more than a chain that drags you through the sludge when you think it might be your buoy.

In this nightmare, the other chairs at the table aren’t empty like they usually are. It’s not just you here.

He must have taken a needle and stitched your mouth shut (like he always threatened) because you feel powerless to scream at Namjoon to get away to stay back. You can do nothing more than watch as he leans over and says something to Geumjae that makes him smile. His smile makes him look like Yoongi; who sits at the head of the table and nurses a glass of wine while scowling.

Jin is on Namjoon's other side, hair combed back from his face in a way that makes Seokjin look absurdly pretty. The picture of delicate omega composure. Each of them eats like they haven't in days, shoveling food into their mouths like it’s their last meal.

Jungkook is by your side and asks if you’re going to eat your dinner roll. Puffy and crusty bread that he never would be able to eat in real life. You watch powerlessly as he scarfs it down like he hasn’t ever eaten anything more delicious. Licking his fingers from the crumbs when he finishes.

Tae is dressed in your jewels this time, not Jimin's. The necklace Geumjae gave you for your second anniversary digs into her collar bones as if it was pinned there. Like a butterfly on a piece of cardboard. Glittering with more diamonds than seem possible. Like one of those Instagram filters, every reflection mark turned glittery. Jimin’s suit is like something out of vogue.

One moment you’re looking at the perfectly edible food and the next you’re watching it rot before your very eyes. The meat greying and melting. The salad wilts gooey and spoiled. The fancy porcelain plates writhing with worms and maggots and creepy crawlies that slither out of nowhere. A spider inches its way up your fork.

No one notices. No one realizes that the bites they bring to their lips are poison. Jin licks his lips, the skin already greying and cracking.

Geumjae looks up at you from his plate, grinning all the while. Collar starched white. You haven’t heard his voice in so long but your mind remembers the exact cadence of it in perfect detail.

“What’s wrong princess? Aren’t you going to eat up?

When you look back at them it's already too late. Namjoon’s slumped in his chair staring blankly forward with bloody eyes. When you look Jin’s got his head half gone. Cut away. Wriggly things curl behind what's left of his eye.

Tae’s collarbones are bleeding where the diamond collar sits. Ribbons drip down her bodice. Jimin’s white shirt is slowly blooming red too. Bullet wounds pepper his chest. One on his shoulder and a cluster of them over his heart.

Jungkook slumps over his plate seizing until he’s still. Still the way that dolls are. Dead. Looking at you with wide vacant eyes that go grey with congealing blood.

Yoongi's hands are burning, fire licking up his clothes and he does nothing to put it out. Burning and bubbling and boiling. Skin peeling up like paint beneath the flames.

Hoseok is the only one not at the table.

Across from you, Geumjae smiles again. Baring his teeth in that animal way of his. “What’s wrong princess? I thought you said you loved them- aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

One moment he’s across the table and the next he’s leaning over you, back in that bedroom that was your hellhole less than a year ago. Pulling you by your hips to the end of the bed when you try to twist away. He fumbles with his belt buckle.

The sheets burn against your skin like its rug burn and although you weakly push at his chest. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. Your strength is nothing compared to his. It never was enough in real life anyway.

“No- no I don’t want- please don’t,” you choke. Trying to get him off of you, when he opens his mouth there are maggots there too.

You never did find out what they did with Geumjae’s body. But now you know as the rotting corpse of your dead husband assaults you. Boney hands grab your wrists as the worms drip out, dangle, and wriggle, falling onto your face and-

One of the terrible things about the big nest upstairs is that it’s really easy to get trapped in the middle with no easy way out.

Hobi finds himself in that position when he wakes. It’s the middle of the night, nearly 3 am probably when he’s roused by the familiar ache in his stomach that tells him he needs to pee.

The shades are pulled across the windows keeping the light out, and what little slips through is kept out by a thin curtain that sections off the nest from the rest of the room. Shielding the familiar lumps of packmates buried beneath the nest slumbering away.

It feels good to have all of you sleeping in one space, the instinctual pleasure flutters and builds on the edge of Hobi’s consciousness as he lifts his head. Barely opening his eyes. It feels homey in the way that Namjoon's rut nest hadn't. It's a true nest, Smelling thick and cakey sweet all of your scents drench it now after a few days of you all sleeping here. After finding the dead body, the decision had been unanimous. No more sleeping separately. No more splitting up between the upstairs nest and the remnants of yours downstairs.

Even though it's a new space some things never change. Jimin still sleeps at the edge near the bottom, guarding the nest from the most logical point of vulnerability. Although that might be because of last week.

The pack has made a few other adjustments in terms of safety since you and Hobi found the dead body. Many a moment has hobi walked into a room with Jin and Yoongi only to have them fall silent. But he doesn't have to ask what new precautions they've agreed upon.

They’ve fallen back into the habit of letting each other know when they get to work safely and when they leave, and when to expect them home (the same habit they had just after yoongi left actually) Phone locations are perpetually turned on just in case. But Hobi knows the only time any of them feel truly settled is when they’re all up here.

The nest is big. Big enough for all of you to sleep comfortably, even all sprawled out. But as thoughtful as Yoongi was when he constructed the space he certainly did not think about how hard it would be to leave for a midnight bathroom break given the walls that close in on three sides.

Now, Hobi is trapped and bound by blankets and fancy pillows and the gently sleeping bodies of his pack all around him. The border is high and fluffed. It’s in an alpha's nature to be careful around his packmates and it goes against something very basic in Hobi to even think about disturbing the carefully placed pillows and blankets, the general purposeful disarray of such a cozy nest. Alphas simply don’t fuck with omega nests.

But on the other hand, he’s seriously stuck.

Namjoon, Jimin, and Jin are at the bottom blocking off the most logical point of egress. Jin’s head rests on Jimin's shoulder, dark hair fanning. Yoongi is tangled up with Tae (her hair in these little puffy rollers). And Jungkook’s star fished and spread out by the top edge, right where Hobi was. His fingers rest under his shirt like he’s been rubbing at his stomach. Snoring softly.

Hobi’s heart swells just looking at them.

The only safe avenue of exit where Hobi won’t be climbing over two people is near the bottom left, close to Jin and Namjoon, where you lie on your side, cheek pillowed. Chest rising up and down a little rapidly in the darkness. It’s so dark that Hobi doesn’t see it at first.

Hobi’s so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize right away that you’re not as undisturbed as the others. That you occasionally twitch like a puppy.

Hobi is no stranger to maneuvering his lithe body around sleeping packmates, muscles straining as he very gently pulls himself over you. Depressing the mattress by your side. His baggy sleep shirt momentarily brushes your face as he shifts over you.

Your reaction is instinctual, one moment asleep and the next awake. Your scent going sour all at once. Exploding in a rush. You push out with your arms, still in the nightmare.

One second Hobi’s on the bed the next he’s stumbling out of it, Barely keeping himself from falling face-first onto the floor. Bare feet slide on the polished wood when he gets them under him. Cursing out a brief “What the fuck?” looking back, ready to be angry at being shoved.

But then he sees that you're sitting up, trembling so hard that your hands can't grip the blanket to get it off of you. Eyes wide and glassy with panic. You blink and blink, lower lip wobbling.

There is a single moment where he just looks at you, but then you let out a small (and admittedly pathetic) chirp.

There is nothing like a chirp that tugs on an alpha’s hindbrain, that drags Hobi's instincts to the forefront like a hook in a fish's mouth. He's honestly surprised that the sound doesn't wake anyone else. Maybe because it's so quiet, so small.

It’s just a dream, just a very bad dream, and your pack is sleeping softly around you. The next thing you feel is Hobi gently crushing you to his chest. Smelling like caramel and boy. Tenderly whipping back your hair from your face. His warm fingertips press against your tender temples dislodging the last bit of you that can't tell if this is real yet.

“Pup? What’s wrong- what happened?"

Hobi looks about as different from Geumjae as anyone possibly could, his jaw slender where Geumjae was wide, eyes bright where his went dark and hooded. Unthreatening and normal brown in the glow.

But just like the dream, you can’t fucking speak.

“Fuck- it was just a dream, whatever it was- it’s not real- I’m-”

You’re shaking and crying and you can’t respond. Your throat is all tight. All of you that is usually happy and gentle is reduced small and scared and quiet. You can't tell where the shadows end and where reality begins. You can only feel his hands. That's the only thing that feels real beyond the terror.

You can't look around; you can't look around at the others- too scared that they'll be dead.

Thank God for the physical nature of Hobi’s job. Herking bags of soil and 30-gallon trees has honestly done him good because it means he can carry you downstairs with a little effort.

Real panic circles his head like a bunch of buzzards, threatening to pick his heart clean. "Hang on- here we go." He turns on each of the lights one by one by leaning into them. Shoulder hitting the plastic, the two of you safer with each click. "See- there isn't anything to be scared of! There's no one here but us."

Hobi is right, Hobi would never lie to you. This kitchen is not the same one from your nightmares. The blinds are blinds and not curtains, drawn to keep out the streetlights not any prying eyes. The old rickety table where the pack has their meals isn't piled with food at all. Only some tangerines in a wooden bowl in the center.

You’re small and shaky in an extra big shirt of Namjoon’s that pools on your thighs when he places you on gently the countertop with a small 'oof'. You're already a little more lucid, eyes darting from the light to the shadows and still trembling faintly. Hobi knows instantly from the stillness that you’re nonverbal. Mouth uncooperative. Your brain is a mix of misplaced adrenaline and cortisol. You smell terrified.

“It’s okay, it’s just a dream, here-” Hobi fills up a yellow plastic cup with water and tips it against your lips. The cold soothes your throat but not to the point that you can speak. You’re unwilling to detangle yourself from him. Real and warm and there now that you’ve got him. hand tangled in the front of his shirt, clinging to him.

He hums as he dabs a cold dishcloth across on your hot cheeks. “You’re okay- I’ve got you.” You lean into his hands, legs parted so that he can stand between them. You look so sad and so small that Hobi’s heart hurts.

You don’t want to speak, really don’t want to but you force yourself anyways. “Don’t remember them- usually- Or wake up in the middle- sorry- M' sorry.”

Your eyes itch, and your face feels all puffy as he continues to dab at it. The cloth is rough and Cold, but hobi's warm where his skin touches yours.

Alive and safe. you barely want to blink incase you miss it.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” Hobi continues to dab at your cheeks, “You get them often?” You shake your head instead of responding and Hobi’s scent goes thick with upset, burning sugar ever so slightly smokey. You sniffle still sort of crying and Hobi does the only thing he can think of.

Maybe it’s just that he’s half asleep himself, or an expression of his alpha protectiveness. The ringing in his ears says protect packmate, provide for packmate, soothe.

Hobi’s scent gland brushes against yours with an electric zing. Pushing you from shaky to boneless nearly instantaneously. He drags his throat and chin across your left shoulder, and then your right.

it takes real effort for him to keep his palms pressed flat against the kitchen counter while he does it but at least it has the desired effect of banishing the last bit of sogginess from your cakey scent. Your instincts purr alphas here, alphas going to keep you safe, keep the shadows at bay.

Your scent goes sweeter and your half-asleep body goes mailable as you lean into him. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, Hobi huffs a soft laugh. It feels sort of nice, having you close like this. He knows how omega's get, Jungkook goes sleepy puppet soft when he's scent marked this close to sleep too.

Yoongi would want Hobi to do this right? Yoongi would want Hobi to comfort his mate. He’d do it himself if he was awake. Hobi’s just being a good packmate. Right?

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as he pulls away. Is it just your imagination or is he a little reluctant?

A startled chirp bursts from your lips, and you clamp your hand back over your mouth. but hobi's laugh echoes loud off the high ceilings, "It's alright pup." You try to speak again but Hobi shushes you, there’s no need for you to push yourself. Not with him. Not right now.

The slant of the light across Hoseok’s face isn’t right. Too grey and yellow from the light in the hall. It’s too late for it to be morning yet and too dark for you to quiet your heartbeat. Hobi can feel it, jackrabbit fast against his throat.

If he's here, that means the nightmare really was only that. A nightmare. Hobi wouldn't be wrapped around you if the rest of the pack were dead. You don't need to go back upstairs and double-check.

Now if you could only stop crying.

“Here,” Hobi starts to pull away and you make a panicked sound, fingers tangling in his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, let me just get my bag-” You shake while he’s gone, sitting on the countertop, stumbling when you get off of it, knees weak. Holding the edge until he comes and gets you with an arm under your shoulders, transferring you effortlessly to the couch.

When did Hobi get so good at this? You’d be inclined to think this was just another dream (one of those shameful ones that you don’t even mention to Yoongi) but you’re not sure you could have dreamed this up.

“Lights off or on?” You shiver so he goes one by one turning on the overhead lights and then the lamps, the ones under the cabinets in the kitchen too. There’s not a hint of shadow here, no monster that he couldn’t guard you from.

You can still see the light behind your eyes when you close them. Blinking slowly like a cat would. Hobi has his headphones in his hand, not his usual earbuds but the dilapidated black over-the-ear headphones with peeling stickers on the sides that have been his almost as long as Yoongi has (they might have been stolen from the record store- back when Yoongi's rebellious streak ran a little wider).

The second they go around your ears the world dampens and your heartbeat slows.

“I’ve got you.” Hobi mouths, reaching to pull your head to lie against his shoulder, the blue light flicker of his phone screen hurts your eyes as he scrolls through some songs and puts one on. It’s slow and soft, mostly instrumental except for faint vocals. You can’t hear what Hobi says but he pulls you to rest against his side. Settling.

He doesn’t make you talk about the nightmare. Doesn’t make you talk at all. You melt, pressing your face into his shoulder as hard as you can, your shaking relaxing with every word. Every soft hum. It’s working, your trembling is only skin-deep now. In a few minutes, you won't be shaking at all.

“Go to bed,” he asks, even though you can't hear him. Pillowed against him. The songs shift quietly. Your hand somehow gets under Hobi’s shirt and presses against the skin of his hip. Holding it softly so that he doesn’t go anywhere, it feels like a bit of a thank you.

You cling to him and he lets you. You probably can’t hear him but he still repeats, “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~-~

Yoongi’s never shot up faster in his life, leaving part of himself in the dream. He can feel the panic down the bond as he stumbles. The nest is too empty. Yoongi’s sleep-sluggish brain counts the number of bodies and he goes cold when he counts five and not seven. Pure shuddering terror bleeding down his back like he's just been doused with cold water.

Where are you? Where is Hobi? There is something wrong- something seriously wrong. Yoongi can feel it on the back of his tongue, the taste of your despair acidic. Once a familiar feeling, now lashing him like lightning.

Communicating directly through the mating mark isn’t something that happens often anymore for the two of you. It did when the bond was fresher, but now that it’s settled the connection has dulled. In the way that clothes go worn and comfortable. It’s not usually a stabbing pain like this. Such a visceral feeling that it wakes Yoongi up from it.

Yoongi stumbles to the door following your scent like a man possessed. The way it shifts from the nest. Panicked to not alone. Hobi’s panic too saturates the air. Yours is rainy wet and Hobi’s is burnt and over-sweet, faintly medicinal.

There are sounds on the stairs. Footsteps rouse Hobi just as he’s finally fallen asleep. His neck aches from how he’s been leaned back against the couch And he winces as it cracks.

“Hobi?” Yoongi calls cautiously. At his waist, your fingers tangle loosely in his shirt holding onto him like he’s a lighthouse in a storm, clinging to him even as you sleep. Hobi realizes he’s got a bit of your hair stuck to his lips. Spitting it out.

“Over here.“ Hobi’s jaw pops when he yawns. Yoongi stumbles to you because he can’t stay away when you’re like this. When you need him. You don’t rouse when Yoongi touches you, cupping your cheeks. Eyes feasting on the crusty salt around your eyes, the faint silvery shimmer of dried tear tracks across your cheeks.

“She had a nightmare- couldn’t sleep with the lights off so- thank god you're here I have to pee like so fucking bad-” Hobi says quietly.

Yoongi definitely does not eye the way that your hand stays loosely knotted in the front of his shirt, or note verbally the way that you smell like him. Drenched in hobi's scent and clinging to him.

“Daisy,” Yoongi says, sounding a bit surprised and alot in love, tucking his Hobi’s hair behind his ear. Standing over the two of you looking a little shaken. Yoongi is an expert at moving you softly detangling your hand from Hobi's shirt without waking you and freeing Hobi from his self-imposed prison.

He's still shaken when Hobi comes back from the bathroom. Hobi can’t blame him. You don’t really have the best track record when it comes to disappearing together. First the car crash last month, and now the dead body. It’s understandable why Yoongi’s panicked a bit.

But now he just looks at Hobi. Eyes scanning his face, a small smile beveling the edge of his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hobi says. The faint murmur of music is barely there, you're still asleep with his headphones on. Hobi had panic made a playlist on his phone after you’d fallen asleep. Putting only the most gentle instrumentals on it.

So what if he’d saved it with a cat emoji and a purple heart? Yoongi can’t possibly know that just by looking at him.

Yoongi doesn’t respond and Hobi tucks his chin, looking down at you, sleeping soundly still. The nightmare must have really tired you out because you're out like a light. His voice goes softer, like the emotion in his throat is constraining his vocal cords.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her panic? That wouldn’t have been kind.”

Yoongi's hand falls onto Hobi's head, rubbing through his hair. the touch feels like a reward. Hobi's not sure what for. “No- it wouldn’t have been Daisy.”

“Like it when you call me that,” Hobi says. Eyelashes flutter as yoongi scratched at the nape of his neck, head bowed. and he can hear the laugh in Yoongi’s voice. Hobi’s not really awake either.

“You don’t have to worry,” Hobi says “I’m not gonna like- freak out and run away if she needs something, like the first time.”

Hobi feels embarrassed about that when he thinks about it. Embarrassed and a little bit fond of the memory every time he sees the train ticket still in his wallet. The top edge is so chewed up that you can hardly tell it’s a ticket anymore.

“Sure,” Yoongi says and Hobi knows he hasn't fooled anyone, least of all your mate. hobi stands up properly, and when his hand falls, yoongi just tugs at his wrist, the callouses on his hands comfortably rough against hobi's skin. “Come on.”

You wake bleary for a handful of seconds when Yoongi puppets you, moving to sprawl out while Hobi discards the back cushions. Yoongi slips Hobi’s headphones off your ears and puts them safely to the side. wordless and publish while yoongi gets one of the blankets to tug it over your form.

Yoongi tuts and doesn't let hobi avoid the same predicament. although it's Infinitely more comfortable than his prior half-crunched position. If Yoongi’s being honest, it sort of looked like Hobi was guarding you. body curled over in a protective stance.

Alpha's are so funny.

Hobi ends up face-to-face with you. His flannel pj set un-buttoned to the middle tugged loose from your tugging earlier. the triangle of his bare chest presses against the bare skin of your collarbone as he shuffles away from the edge of the couch. Your own pj set pulled off one shoulder. Yoongi’s sitting up, his thigh warm against the top of Hobi’s head.

You’re running a fever maybe, worming your way closer to Hobi like you need it. Your nose presses into Hobi’s chest, a little cold at the tip and ticklish. Hobi squirms and Yoongi huffs. Overly fond.

“She does that to me in her sleep too sometimes. Means she likes your scent.” Hobi feels warm, and it’s no secret that his scent fluffs up sweeter, as if encouraging you to enjoy it. You re-settle. falling asleep with your nose tucked into Hobi's sternum.

Fuck you’re both so cute, your hair mixing colors on the pillow- sharing the same one because even being that far apart is too much. Hobi falls asleep with Yoongi combing gentle touches down his back. His favorite way to fall asleep- being touched so casually and consistently. You breathe against his skin, cradled to his chest. Sleeping soundly. Finally soothed.

Hobi watches you until sleep takes him.

~-~

Unfortunately, that’s not the last time you’re woken by a nightmare in the coming weeks

Over the next few days, it seems like more often than not Yoongi and Hobi wake to the scent of your terror in the air. Quieting your little sobs with soothing touches in the bathroom. Blankets are brought into the space so that you can curl up in the bathtub, darkness kept at bay by the overhead lights, its lingering shadow curling underneath the doorway trying to drag you down.

They don’t mind, at least they tell you they don’t mind when it eventually comes time to wake in the morning and your words are barely intact. Soft and rough in a way they haven’t been in months.

For you, it feels infuriating. Your non-verbalness might only be a temporary state but that doesn’t mean that overcoming it isn’t tiring. It’s frustrating. Working so hard each day to speak only to have it wrenched away again at night.

Always.

Always you wake up from your nightmares non-verbal. Guided to somewhere light by Hobi so that your fear of the dark won't rouse the rest of the pack. Soothed back to sleep by his music and some scenting. Waking up sometime after sunrise, struggling but better. A routine.

As for the pack…

“It feels like she’s going backward,” you hear Jin confess one morning while he brushes his teeth in the upstairs bathroom. he sounds afraid (he is afraid after waking up to you gone from the nest yet again for the 5th time this week- and it's only thursday). It's obvious Jin doesn't know you're within earshot but the double doors that lead to the bathroom are wide open.

Hobi sends you a fraught look. You’ve just come back upstairs after spending a few hours in the Living Room. You're only able to risk a few more hours of sleep because the sun is turning the sky all grey-blue.

“Do you think-” What he says next is jumbled by the sound of someone turning on the shower, Jungkook or jimin maybe (the upstairs shower is large enough that honestly- all eight of you might be able to fit given you where willing to risk any soap related injuries).

Namjoon’s answering hum is all dark thunder. jin's proposed solution a mystery. “No, I don’t think that would help.”

Sometimes it’s not just Hobi and Yoongi who wake up with you.

Sometimes it’s Jimin. Holding your shoulder with that firm touch looking like he’s about to snap his teeth at any incoming shadows. Sometimes you wake and he’s already sitting at the edge of the bed watching the stairs and the windows. Shirtless, legs splayed with his handgun balanced across his knees.

Or is it just your imagination? Is that just another dream because you certainly don’t see any weapons when he and Hobi pull you from the bed a few seconds later?

They take shifts. Jin and Namjoon blanket you on both sides, soft rumbles soothing you, their quiet banter a welcome melody in your private nest downstairs. Jungkook the next night- who admittedly just wraps his body around you and goes back to sleep so quick it makes you jealous, curled around your spine while you listen to Tae read you a late-night story.

Tae’s delicate murmur does all the character's voices just right. Her lips are both mystery and familiarity. She always seems to crack open the world with the first line.

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.”

They never make you speak; never treat you like they’re too tired even though you know they are. You can see it on their faces, on Hobi’s eyebags getting greyer by the day. Hobi’s the only one who's there every time a nightmare drags you awake. Even Yoongi doesn’t wake up every time.

(Although you confess it's more because you develop a routine. You and Hobi sleep by the side of the nesting nook, where it’s easy to get out without moving around too much. Close enough to each other that he often wakes smelling like you and you always wake smelling like him).

You try to talk with him about it. Guilt makes your heart feel all stuffy. Is it possible to get a heart cold?

“You know, you could just leave your headphones out-"

“No- don’t worry about it, I’ll just make it up later.”

Always. Always Hobi wakes and plops his headphones on your ears. Sometimes he seems awfully lively, grinning and cracking jokes when you burrow into his chest and wipe your tears on his shirt.

“I am like- among the top 10 worst sponges in history you know?”

Sometimes he wakes you from the nightmares before you’ve had the chance to jerk awake. He recognizes the tell-tale stillness, the quick breaths. He never lets you suffer for long. Waking you with a hand on your shoulder. Allowing you to shove him just a little because he knows you're just reacting to your dream and him bleeding together.

"It's just me- you're okay, I've got you."

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re not the only one who can’t sleep lately.

During the day you spend a lot of time in the nesting pod, catching up on sleep while it's still light outside. dreading the afternoons and evenings when the shadows linger like a looming storm. Alone and safe and quiet.

Occasionally you're joined by noodle, purring up against your stomach. Meowing at you until you lift your arm and he can cuddle close. Sometimes you feel like he knows you’re sadder than you say you are. That when the others aren’t there to watch you, you’re stiller, less mobile than normal. You don't even click away at your phone, half the time you forget to charge it anyway.

Hobi would never tell you- but a few afternoons ago he’d come home to Noodle waiting for him on the front step. He’d lead Hobi inside, little kitty face glaring back at him every few steps. Circling his curled form and yowling when he dared to take a second to take his shoes. off. Panicked and nervous, all but biting on his ankles before he led Hobi into the sunroom. His bushy tail held high.

There he’d meowed woefully at your nesting pod where you slept soundly. So loud that Hobi was worried it would wake you. As if he was trying to say “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Hobi had just quieted the cat with a soft shush and picked him up. Closing the door behind both of them. “Let her sleep nu,” he’d gotten nothing but a tearful meow in response. Some squirming, but no claws. “What do you expect me to do? I’m trying my hardest.”

Noodle keeps his secrets. Hobi’s question goes unanswered by the cat- who’d simply squirmed out of his hold and gone to wait by the door to be let back in. Glaring at Hobi’s retreating figure like he’d been betrayed.

Noodle seems to know something that the pack doesn't. He's sat in your lap during dinner and breakfast every single night this week, especially on the days you’ve slept more.

Hobi continues to try his hardest. He brings home flowers from the shop. He says they’re for Jin but puts them by the nesting pod and no one even bothers to tease him. He makes sure that you don’t fall out of the habit of going on late-night drives. Even though you don’t go back to the beach again quite yet. The memories there are too prescient.

Hobi takes you to the winding mountain road again. Drag racing one night with Jimin, because what good is trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before sunrise when you’ll just wake anyway? You might as do something fun until you’d wake up normally.

You leave that night a little more wobbly-legged than Hobi will admit to Namjoon when he asks later. "I'm never getting into a car with you again Minnie- what the fuck."

But sometimes the alphas do use the sunroom when you’re there.

It’s kind of nice to hear them on the other edge of your senses. When you’re dozing and Tae and Jimin want to play video games. their shouts of happiness and false outrage better than their screams of terror.

When Hobi and Jungkook want to do some stretching before they take an afternoon run, their giggles push out the memories of cruel words that ring in your ears. Yoga mats all stretched out and noodle perched on the edge of Hobi's multicolored one. Watching you, tail flicking back and forth.

They'll never know how much they help just by being there.

Or when they work on rearranging Hobi’s plants around. Fitting them into different spots like a jigsaw puzzle and moving them from room to room. He doesn’t mean to be indecisive about it, he’s just trying to find the best home for each of them.

They take the big banana tree upstairs to put it in the nesting room because that honestly has really good light and Hobi’s baby can’t be compromised. They move the monstera there too and switch the string of pearls for three big ferns hanging above your nesting nook. Shifting A big fig tree that honestly looks kinda pretty from the entryway to the corner, hanging part of the way over the small sectional.

A leggy orchid that someone bought Namjoon as a “thank you for not letting me go braindead” present is the wimpiest and smallest of the bunch. Hobi's in the process of rehabilitating it. For now, it sits on the window sill growing a single pathetic leaf.

Hobi tries to spend a lot of time nearby when you’re trying to sleep, he always seems to show up when you're having the hardest time ignoring your thoughts.

They're getting tired of you being a goddamn mess every time. Why can't you just get better? It's pathetic, Hobi is fine. Why are making such a big deal over this? But deep down you know it's not just the dead body that caused all of this.

Things are slow at the flower shop in the fall with only the occasional wedding until the Christmas season starts up. Hobi talks to you about it while he waters his plants and trims up some leaves that are dying. He’s definitely not looking forward to making bows for the whole month of December and wrestling with wreaths. He’d much rather talk to you about his ferns. The big stag leaf one that’s in the corner by the tv. And the big fluffy ones that hang above the nesting pod.

“I know they're messy but If I overwinter them we can hang them back on the porch next year, They looked so nice!”

You hum from the pod, turning your cheek to look up at him. he's got his flannel rolled up to his elbows, a shirt underneath that looks homey and warm. Hobi’s scent grows sweet. “They did look really cool this year, kind of like big green soot sprites.”

“We should watch spirited away again.”

“We should.”

You stretch out in the nesting pod while he fiddles with one of the fronds, pulling off the dead leaves with a crumple. You stretch your curled-up legs, toes brushing the ratan sides of the pod.

“If I was a plant where would you put me?”

“Probably where it’s sunniest.”

You can hear his smile on the words, you hum and go back to sleep while he works. Hobi checks your breathing every few minutes, just to make sure you don’t need to be woken up again.

Hobi never talks about the nightmares and never asks what they’re about. Which is something you’re thankful for as the days go on and they get worse and worse. You don’t know how many more nights you can wake up gasping without telling them what you're dreaming about. That it's the idea of them dying that has you so panicked. not to mention the nightly revision of the worst parts of your abuse.

Yoongi doesn't always let you escape without a bit of interrogation. Badgering you until you tell him that he needs to stop.

Jin’s just as bad, constantly hovering. You found your sleep schedule, an estimated hours of sleep you’ve gotten scrawled on the edge of a newspaper in Namjoon's handwriting. He's a little generous with his calculation- You know you haven't slept 13 hours in the last 4 days. You’d crumpled up the page and thrown it in the garbage.

In the morning you find out their motive behind it. Blinking down at your cereal and at the red raspberries bobbing in the milk. You can't help but get defensive about this; because really when you go non-verbal so often about this- what good would talking do?

“Jin, I’m not going to therapy.”

Jin looks a little bit less like his usually put-together form, button-up shirt a little looser than it might have been a few weeks back. Yoongi rubs down his shoulders as he passes. Work has been keeping Jin later and later- anytime someone asks he says something about a problem child at the home for forgotten pups that needs Jin's full attention.

It's so very like him to suggest therapy.

He pulls his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it into something orderly. Abandoning his usual routine of gel and mouse. “I’m not saying you have to go consistently- just once or twice, you went through something-“ he breaks off when Yoongi taps his hip, shaking his head.

You’re twisting your hands over your lap, again and again. But the word lands even though it was unsaid. Whereas before you and Hobi had a smart retort- now- the word feels less hollow, more heavy.

And Jin's not just talking about the body.

Jin doesn’t want to be frank, but you don’t look the best. Maybe it’s because you’d been so steadily getting better that they hardly remembered what sadness looks like on you. But now it looks like this; you sitting at the island counter, looking at your food, too nauseous to eat. Actually worried you're going to vomit if you try.

Any other morning, Jin would sit by you and coach you through it, would sit and wait for you and move you somewhere safe, somewhere softer to prod. He'd chase this worry with gentle touches. maybe he'd give you a gentle settling if you were feeling like you needed to reach that happy hazy head space to eat.

Any other morning Jin wouldn’t leave you.

But this morning, the clock says that Jin has exactly 20 minutes before he has to leave for work or else he’ll be late and miss the debriefing on the latest string of murders and drug-related reports. including a very well worded anonymous tip. it's important that jin's there for that.

It’s not enough time to drag you to some corner of the house and scent you happy. Or better- scruff you down into omegaspace where you’d be mailable and more agreeable under his touch.

Yoongi's eyes say, go I've got this, and Jin has never been more thankful for lovely enemies and a partner in crime.

But Jin simply does not have enough time to love you as he should. If Jin has to choose between making you feel loved and making you more physically safe he'll choose the latter every single time.

Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and criminal empires won’t fall that quickly either.

“They’ll go away, I know they’ll go away because they did last time,” you reaffirm, only half believing it. You and Yoongi don’t talk about when you first moved into this house, but the truth is these nightmares aren’t really anything new for either of you.

At least this time they don’t come with you hurling your guts up every night. At least this time your words return in the middle of the day. At least you feel somewhat human right now.

Jin sends a fraught look in Hoseok ’s direction. Clearly requesting backup. He holds his hands up, straw in his mouth and ice coffee in his hand. “I’ll go if she goes.” Is all he says backing away. Clearly not ready to take Jin’s side with this. Late for work himself.

Jin almost misses when you guys were adversarial, rather than banded together as a unified front.

I never expected the pups to unionize

He sends Namjoon in a text a few hours later, After no less than 3 separate meetings that have him feeling more than a little tired himself.

Joonie (1:18): Really? I’d thought you would have been ready, no plans to destabilize the monarchy up your sleeve?

Jin can’t stop his smile, he’s conscious of who might be watching, so he hides it with his palm. Flirting on the FBI’s time has never felt so good.

What would you recommend?

Joonie (1:23): Spanking and sweets probably.

That at least had made Jin feel a little bit more at ease. But he knows what Namjoon really means, that he’s saying they should talk about this later face to face. Or worse there isn’t an easy solution. Namjoon had warned him that a request for therapy, however gentle and well-worded it was, might not go over well.

But what else can you do when someone won’t accept your concern? When love falls short? For the first time ever Jin is unsure what you need.

Over the next few weeks, you can tell that they’re being overly gentle with you. Treating you with velvet gloves.

Namjoon barks an order at Jungkook and Hobi when they rough house too close to you. jostling you where you stand unsteady in the bathroom. Tae lets loose a sleepy growl when Jungkook back hugs you one morning- something ordinarily innocuous but now makes you flinch hard. hand pressed over your heart to stop its thundering. Both times Jungkook tucks his tail smelling sour at being scolded even though it's really not his fault.

Everyone's instincts are running on high. Your scent is so off these days. Something about it muted and only getting duller. Jin didn't realize until the other day when he tried to find a pillow that smelled like you while nesting and couldn't.

The head of the FBI's largest organized crime task force, brought to sniffles over not being able to find the right pillow. What would Jin's enemies think?

Yoongi had only sighed, and relinquished his shirt to Jin's nesting. At least that was the next best thing.

but it's not only the little things that they're holding off from; it's sex too. You can clearly tell that they want to instigate something when you come upstairs one night after spending a few minutes with Tae in the library room.

Jungkook sat's tight across Namjoon’s lap. Moving his hips in a way that's sensual clinging to the pack alphas bare chest and licking into his mouth like an omega starved.

You know what they want to do- christen the nest in a way, truly break it in and make it smell like the pack.

But they'd stilled at your appearance and you'd made yourself scarce, clearly not ready to be asked to stay (or scarier- asked to leave). When you'd come back after showering the room had smelled of sour unhappy arousal and Jungkook had been pouting on the other side of the nest from Jin and Namjoon.

You hadn't heard the whispered argument. "You're treating her the exact same way you treated me when my seizures went bad."

"That was a different circumstance Koo and you know it."

"Still- it doesn't change the fact that you're making the decision for her instead of making a place that's safe enough for her to decide what she wants."

The idea that Jungkook and the others are holding off for your sake has you feeling even more guilty.

Even Tae- once insatiable, now hardly lifts her head from her computer when you walk into the library room wearing next to nothing. You know it’s just that. Just busyness that she's been spending every available second writing her new story.

But you can’t help but feel odd about it. Half guilty and half extra. Unwelcome.

Neglected isn’t the right word. Neglected is the word that Hobi would use for his orchid or the cactus that he accidentally forgot about outside. Two plants that are equally as finicky, opposites but maybe not in terms of difficulty. One praised for being beautiful, the other coveted for being hard to take care of.

It feels like that a lot of the time, that you're just hard to take care of. you're an adult you shouldn't even need to be taken care of at all.

That night- you toss and turn in the bed. Unable to sleep because you can't help but think about it, your thoughts a rushing torrent of you're such a bother. Maybe they're just trying to let you down easily. Maybe all of the love is a lie. You should try harder, if you try harder to overcome this then maybe they won't ask you to leave.

Sadness has rotted your brain a little, you don't know how to get back, how to stop the spiral. Until your hands are so tight that your nails dig into your palms. Leaving bloody little crescents.

The next day you try to catch up on sleep. In the nesting pod. A dark spot. Out of sight and out of mind, where all broken things go when it's clear they can't be fixed in a way that makes them useful. But it feels like you've only slept a few minutes when you're roused- not from a nightmare, but because someone gets into your nesting pod with you.

You smile in your sleep at the scent of honey, rich and golden. So nice and sweet that it makes you get goosebumps. Jungkook noses at them, dragging his cheek along the hair on your arms, soft and pleasant in that sensory sort of way.

Even though the nesting pod was a gift from Namjoon you'd been clear to Jungkook and Jin that they could use it whenever they wanted to. They're always a little bit more inclined to nest upstairs.

You sleepily hold out your arms for Jungkook, only cracking your eyes a little. You're not prepared for the sight of him in a crop top. blinking as you register it. Your pulse climbing higher. Jungkook doesn't say anything, doesn't say anything at all as he pulls his body along yours, settling mostly on top of you. quiet until you query "Kookie?"

He smells a little like the gym, but more like he'd showered there and then come home. You don't remember what day it is, what his schedule was. But the house is quiet around you, it must be one of his early days then?

His nose rubs smooth little circles along your neck, and when you pull back his eyes are a little glassy. "I miss you," he says, voice cracking a tiny bit. You don't have to ask why he misses you when you're right here. You know and your heart clenches painfully.

you laugh, "you just saw me this morning." but his lower lip wobbles, and you know thats not what he meant. it's frightfully easy to knot your fingers in his hair and pull him down to eye level. "c'm here."

You can tell by the way that Jungkook kisses you that he wants you, his arousal burning skin deep as his tongue laves against your lower lip and his hand slides down your chin to cup your scent gland, fingers pressing over the sensitive skin delicately.

You're so fucking tired.

Jungkook’s sex drive is honestly the highest in the pack, and you know that they usually keep him well tended to. But you also know that because of your predicament, no one’s tended to his needs in the last few days. You can smell it on the edge of his scent. Sweet but overly sweet, like a hovering cloud of settling perfume, unable to settle. Just getting stronger.

It’s not your job, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s job per se, but the idea of turning him down is so displeasing that you won’t even if you’re not really in the mood right now. You're so fucking tired. There isn't room for anything else. you don't have the energy to want this, you don't have the energy to want anything but sleep.

You kiss back, a little gentler than he wants, the soft needy noise he makes against the seam of your mouth tells you just how welcome it is. Your arms are sluggish as they go around his shoulders. He grins happy, and you grin too- because Jungkook’s joy is honestly so infectious. You let him tug you up, tug you out of the nesting pod even though your heart lurches.

This is your use to the pack, isn't it? The youngest omega, the lowest one in the hierarchy. You shouldn't say no and deny Jungkook what he wants. This is the way that he feels free, the way that he makes himself better.

After the pack's sleeping quarters had changed, there’d been a whole debate over where exactly to put the pack's sex toy collection and what to do with their old bedroom on the first floor. The side closet is no longer big enough or in use.

Installing some shelves in the bedroom had been the easiest solution. now they frame either side of the windows, holding Tae's overspill of books at the top and a few display cases. You remember the first day you'd wandered in here in search of your mate and found some suspicious-looking brackets installed along the ceiling studs, sawdust piles sweeper up on the floor.

“It’s totally not a sex dungeon.”

“Babe, you’re making a display for Jungkook’s dildo collection with a built-in sex bench.” At least you can still tease your mate when you're sad like this. Every little semi-normal comment you make feels like seeing the sun during a break from the storm. Even Yoongi's pout is half a smile.

“Just because I want there to be a bench doesn’t mean It’s a sex bench. It could be for like- watching tiktok and stuff. You know Hobi likes to find a spot where he won't bother us.”

“It’s totally a sex bench.”

“Is not.”

Yoongi is too fun to rile up. You'd watched him blush as you and Jungkook had playfully grabbed and swung on the ropes Yoongi was hanging, the heavy thick cotton ones soft to the touch that won’t irritate his loves sensitive skin. testing out the brackets meant for suspension.

Jungkook’s just as giggly and happy when he drags you there now, and your smile is very real pressed to his shoulder. The farthest thing from fake. it might be the first time you've smiled today. Jungkook always makes you feel this way; a little younger, a little bit like you’re sneaking around. That at least feels right.

You're very good at concentrating on the parts of sex that feel good, the parts that you want and not the ones that you don't.

(This morning the others had talked about it with Jungkook. Jimin and Tae had cuddled close to brainstorm. The way they often talk about sex things and pack things. Jimin's snorted honesty still stings.

"I don't know if Yoongi could literally fuck the sadness out of her, but at least it's a suggestion."

Jungkook had felt petulant and whiney, "But why doesn't he just try- if anyone's got a magic just right dick it's him-" Tae had chased Jungkook's disappointment with a kiss.

The truth is; the pack is mostly at a loss with how to help you this time. The most they can do is just stay close and make sure you have everything you need. But lately, not even that has felt like enough. Tae had scrapped her nails down Jungkook's abs, soothing him, with a bit of tingly pain pleasure.

"You're the only one whose bad mood can literally be cured with a good fuck bunny.”)

Yes, Jungkook is trying to make you feel lighter in the only way he knows how right now. But there are different medicines for different hurts for a reason.

Jungkook guides you down to the sex bench, tugging at your shirt a little. Still kissing you. Up close you realize it's actually more of a daybed, styled very attractively with a few throw pillows. One that's more memory foam and sturdy for propping bodies up.

It's no secret how sweet turned on happy Jungkook smells from just a little kissing, just the bare minimum. Jungkook moans- a crocked needy sound, scent pulsing richer in the air. He squirms a little bit, reaching over to one of those shelves. Rummaging in one of the frosted acrylic buckets.

“I’ve had this idea for weeks now that you've taken Joonie’s- fuck- I just- I didn’t know when you’d want to try it but I saw this video online with two omegas and Jin said no but- ha! Here it is!”

You gulp.

The big purple thing is a veritable monster, glittery and double-ended, ridged not like a regular dildo but more like a tentacle. It's about as thick around as your wrist. Namjoon’s a little thicker but still-

it makes fear trickle down your spine, warm and almost bleeding.

Jungkook reads your expression. And the disappointment crests his cheeks, his bunny smile falls, and you feel like you’ve failed already.

At the thought of being filled right now. You feel like you might want to vomit. You try not to have any sort of expression, just a small smile- but fall abysmally short. You’re too tired, too sore, too tight to properly enjoy that.

The idea that your sadness is enough to get in the way of this, what Jungkook so clearly needs is suddenly too much for you to bare. Jungkook needs sex, doesn't he? He needs it to make the seizures feel not quite so damning. He'd told you once- how much he required sex to feel loved. It's his love language right? Isn't this what people always say when they want physical touch?

Who are you to say that your needs are more important than his? You certainly do not love yourself as much as you love him.

Jungkook’s frown is heartbreaking and you easily kiss it away. Making your kisses more eager. You’re a good kisser and a good actor. Your kisses make Jungkook feel all fluttery and hot in the chest, quickly forgetting about the dildo and whatever plans he might have had.

"Just want you- don't want-" words get in the way of kissing, sucking, you mouth at Jungkook's lower lip, making him groan.

Jungkook’s scent gland is a semi-swollen little lump under your teeth as you nibble on it, making him part his legs, grinding up into nothing and letting out a breathless whine. You set yourself across his lap and his big hands quickly fist on your waist pulling you snugly.

You don’t mind this, you really don’t.

It's too routine for you, the first thing that you reach for to avoid saying no. His belt buckle is warm against your palm as you shift so that you can slide to the floor. Pulling your body away from him. he lets out a needy bereft sound. stopping you as you start to tugg at his waistband.

his cheeks are pink, lips red from kisses when you pull back. "I-"

"Let me kiss you here Koo." Let me at least do something. Let me stop feeling so guilty, I know how to fix the guilt even if you don't.

Jungkook catches your chin before you sink to the floor. Jungkook has a hickey on his abs glimmering there just along his hipline. The crop top pulled up to right under his pectorals in a way you know would have the alphas growling and mouthing at his stomach. That's probably how he got the hickey in the first place.

“But you don’t like it.” He says, not quite understanding. Catching your hand as you slide it across his knee.

“I want to try.” You lie, "I-I feel like I’ve lost practice, need to be taught how-” You bat your eyes, looking down and away like you're embarrassed. Just let me do this and make you cum. Just let me get this over with so that we can go back to cuddling and I can feel safer. Jungkook always gets especially cuddly after he's cum too. “I don’t- I don’t do it for the alphas like at all." Your stuttering isn't all faked. You’ve lost practice in a lot of things, but lying clearly isn’t one of them.

“Or Yoongi” Jungkook notes. A little too quickly.

Your heart pulses, Bruised a bit at that. You've never explicitly discussed the abuse you underwent with anyone but Yoongi and Namjoon. You didn't think anyone really noticed how much you don't like giving blowjobs. It's not that you don't want to reciprocate or touch- it's just that once with Geumjae, the choice to reciprocate was taken away from you. The choice to get anything at all was always taken away. It's hard to forget that, to want it again.

You remember his words. He'd always been violent with words before he'd ever gotten violent physically with you. Coercion doesn't feel like it has the same weight compared to that (Hobi would probably argue with you- but his case was different wasn't it?)

"You're so fucking selfish, you could help me in like- 10 minutes but you're choosing not too. We could go back to having a normal fucking evening. I do so much for you and even now when I can't fucking sleep you won't just do this one fucking thing- it's not like I'm asking for much. You're too young, I should have known you wouldn't know how normal relationships function."

It's foolish of you to think that you could be selfish forever. You should get used to this with Jungkook so that it's not so bad with the others later. In case they ever realize how selfish you've been.

“Yeah,” you swallow back a lump in your throat. “But can I? I want to-” You make your eyes wide, biting your tongue hard so that your scent doesn’t go sour.

Jungkook looks like he’s warring with himself for a second but then the hornyness wins out. He pulls his pants down his thighs and you help him, big and muscular as he stands, you on the floor before him. It feels right in a twisted way. See I know my place, see I'm not trying to get away with anything.

Jungkook almost trips when he moves to get a pillow for your knees because he’s not a monster. Namjoon and Jin have taught him well.

Jungkook is not a monster.

If you said no, if you said that you wanted to stop you know he wouldn’t hold it against you. At least not at first, at least not this time. After the 4th or 5th or 10th attempt you know that wouldn't be the case.

Jungkook doesn't even have large enough of a cock for it to feel like a real blowjob. His bunny eyes are wide and eager as you give it a first little kiss. Tentative. You kiss the head again, focusing, dragging your lips up the sides and nuzzling into the skin of his hip, indulging in his scent because at least Jungkook smells nice, smells clean, before you take him into your mouth

Geumjae always smelled a bit like piss. Tasted like it too. At least Jungkook's not like that.

He can be forgiven maybe, for not noticing right away. For not asking if you want this twice. A muted curse falls from his lips instead and he carefully cradles your head. A little startled.

"Fuck- ah-" The muscles of his abdomen tense beneath your touch, startled by the sudden influx of pleasure and the wet tight hot heat of your mouth. "I don't think you need any practice- fuck-"

Omega cock tastes less bitter than alpha cock does. And Jungkook’s dick is honestly so small you can’t even choke on it properly. He doesn’t hit the back of your throat when he rocks it into your mouth. Eking pleasure from the tight seam of your lips.

He doesn’t even hit the back of your throat or engage your gag reflex. So, you wonder why your eyes start watering. One of his hands fists (albeit a little bit too sloppy to be totally gentle) in your hair, using it to keep you stationary while he fucks your mouth. Little rolls of his hips that end in cute, "ah-ah-ah" sounds leaving his lips.

Good, you're doing good. Your nose is buried in his skin. With the little tuft of hair there, Jungkook must have showered at the gym because it doesn't smell like anything. Just breathe.

You know Jungkook doesn't get stimulation to his cock often. The others much prefer to fuck his hole rather than pay attention to it and that works in your favor now because Jungkook's so sensitive. You feel his cock jerk a little, tensing as his abdomen does, flexing up against the pallet of your mouth. Especially when your tongue teases at the head. Finding the ridge of his frenulum and pressing up.

Your lungs sting but you keep your tongue flat, lapping up at the underside, keeping your mouth wet and messy and not swallowing yet. Jungkook's precum tastes a little salty, not as salty as alpha cum would taste like but still not bad. Just a little bit like sweat and a little bit like honey.

Jungkook looks down at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead his lips falling slack in pleasure. Hips twitching up, looking debauched and lovely from it already. Pride swells, even as you have to fight back the urge to gag. Quieting the revulsion in your stomach through force of will alone.

You can do this, you don't have to make a big deal over it-

Jungkook tips his head back, closing his eyes, and you're free to shudder unwatched. "Fuck- just like that- you're so good at it, fuck-" You wonder if you get this same wide-eyed subspace look when you’re sad if that’s why he doesn't notice. Your knees burn, hands tighten. One on his hips the other digging into your thigh.

You hear someone outside in the hall and before you have the chance to even think about pulling off they're opening the door. Jimin almost trips, Clearly not expecting to see you on your knees or Jungkook with his legs splayed and shirt rucked up to show his tummy.

You pop off Jungkook’s cock easily, jaw aching already (you really are out of practice) Jimin’s look is all predatory, alpha pheromones bubbling up. One second startled, the next prowling in your direction like a jungle cat.

“Ah pups, getting into trouble? Pups having a treat?”

Jungkook giggles, spreading his knees wider, fingers stroking down your cheek as you catch your breath. Wiping the spit from your lips. “We’re not done yet,” he huffs. You blink up at Jimin and the touch he drops on your head is everything. Soothing your frantic panting. You push up into it, eager for a casually loving touch.

"Wanna make some trouble with us?"

“maybe, think i'd much rather watch" He teases, jutting his chin at Jungkook and settling down next to him, leaning on his chin to watch you as you're urged back to it. You kiss Jungkook's cock again as the alpha guides him into a kiss. Settling his happy-turned-on pheromones into a thick bubble that bursts.

You lap at Jungkook’s cock head, making it messy. Watching the two of them get distracted by kissing, licking into each other’s mouths. Jungkook's hand falls from your hair in favor of cupping Jimin's thigh.

And you below them, an afterthought.

You ignore the longing in your chest and go back to sucking Jungkook off. After a minute or two, Jimin's hand returns to your head, his knuckles rub against your cheek in lazy circles.

It would feel loving any other time but not right now. Not when you're trying to ignore the voice that whispers in the back of your mind that this is all you're good for. On your knees, mouth open. Finally useful. Finally worth the bother of loving. A voice that doesn’t come from any of them but sounds suspiciously like Geumjae's occupying your thoughts.

Jimin's hands are on your head too, rubbing against your cheek. Wiping away a little bit of spit on the corner of your lips. He clearly thinks you're deep in omegaspace. Interpreting your quiet softness for that sweetness and not this devastation. there is always a moment of quiet before a disaster, an intake of breath where everyone braces for impact.

“My good little princess, making your packmate happy, look at you pup,” Jimin croons. Clearly enjoying the pretty picture that you and Jungkook paint.

If anything, it's hearing that old pet name that makes you break. You're fine until you're not.

You're just so tired.

There is wetness on your face and it’s not spit or slobber or cum just tears. Little sniffles. your first one goes un-noticed by them, but not the second or the third. Jungkook freezes. And suddenly the fingers on your cheeks aren’t pulling you closer to Jungkook’s hips but off. Tilting your face. Jimin's hands quickly push Jungkooks away.

Jimin has stoney eyes, his mouth hard and discerning, lips parting. “Pup?” Jungkook’s already got his hand on your arm bunny eyes the soft opposite to Jimin’s. Jimin effortlessly transfers you from the floor to the couch. "Oh pup."

You wipe at your tears stubbornly. “Just one second, just give me a second and then I can keep going I promise, I’m fine- I’m fine” you keep repeating it, keep saying it but you smell so sour-sad. Your pout wobbles hot tears welling up threatening to spill over renewed.

But in what world would they ever let you cry during sex without pre-negotiating? In what world would they let you cry without comforting you?

“I don’t even know why I’m crying but I can't stop-”

No sooner have the words slipped past your lips are they pulling you up from the floor and into their laps, manhandled and small. You fight it a little. but Jimin crushes you to his chest and you sag. t

Jungkook has never gotten less turned on quicker, a packmate's distress takes so much precedence over this. Pulling up his pants. His pleasure isn't even a thought in the back of his mind. You take precedent.

Jungkook thought you knew that.

He feels helpless, helpless as you scrub angrily at your mouth, he uses his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe the saliva and spit from your mouth, then your tears from your cheeks. "Oh fuck- I'm so sorry- fuck I-"

And oh, you're crying into Jimin's chest now, real tears. Sobbing harder.

Jimin glances up and for a second he looks a little angry. He has every right to be angry at Jungkook for this. He's barely been here for like, a minute and a half. But the anger isn't welcome, you're too close to Jimin's scent gland, flinching when he starts to smell sour. Pulling back, so so so terrified, quivering in his lap.

"I'm sorry alpha, just give me a second and I'll get to you too-"

Now Jimin's angry for a whole new reason, angry at people he can't punish, people who are already dead. Jimin feels his anger in his hands. Struggling to stay gentle on you.

Oh fuck that.

Jimin’s fingers pinch at the back of your neck, scruffing you until your scent mellows out a little. "None of that now." He snaps, sharp shifting from concerned packmate to commanding dom effortlessly. "You'll do no such thing. You're going to stay right here until I tell you I'm done holding you."

Jimin's firmness is exactly what you need. You feel his power in his arms, crushing you, restraining you. Jungkook is not a dom, and that has never been clearer than right now. if he was than you would have never gotten into this predicament. "Can't you be good and do what Alpha asks?"

"Yes Alpha" you sob.

Jungkook looks at you guilty, eyes swimming with tears too. He's always been a sympathetic crier but he doesn’t let them spill. Even if Jimin spies them. His lower lip wobbles as he looks at you. Reaching out to hold you too and then snatching his hands back at the last second. If Jimin's touch is your remedy then Jungkook's is surely poison. “Why didn’t you-”

“I just- I just didn’t want to be bad.” You know what they’re about to say, that saying no wouldn’t have been bad but your brain is all terrified of it.

“M’sorry” Jungkook wants to say that there’s nothing you’ve got to apologize for that it’s him that should, but it’s difficult. It’s so difficult when you’re crying so hard it kinda feels like you might pass out. hyperventilating a little. He can do little more than loop his arms around Jimin's waist and trap you between the two of them, sandwiching you. Applying pressure. Holding you tight. In a way that has you instantly plummeting. Down past subspace, past omegaspace, where everything is dark and bland and nothing. Where you're nothing.

“M’sorry Koo-” He doesn’t trust his wobbly voice to speak as you sob out, “Don’t tell them, don’t tell Namjoon and Jin or Yoongi please- don't want them to worry. It’s not Koo's fault it's mine. I’m fine. m' just feeling off. I’ll be better alpha I promise.”

Luckily there is no one home. No one is home to hear any of this. Jimin has always been perilously unable to deny his girls their silly wishes. And if the idea of Namjoon or Jin knowing has you panicking anew then Jimin will take this secret to the grave.

Jimin soothes you with a happy alpha rumble, feeling exactly the opposite- wishing there was Namjoon or Jin to call for backup. This is clearly not normal crying. Jungkook surely couldn't have put you into subspace but somehow you're dropping. Leaning in to every word that graces Jimin's lips like you need the absolution he brings.

“But you’re already so good for us pup- already so good for saying no even though it was hard. Here. Lie out so we can hold you. Here.” It's what you wanted from the beginning someone close by enough to touch enough to cuddle.

Only this time it feels even less like you deserve it.

You make yourself as small as you can. Jungkook and Jimin alternate, kissing off your cheeks. Until you stop crying and fall asleep. Crying yourself back to sleep. You really were just sleep-deprived.

Jimin's got one arm around your waist, another cradling the back of your head. And only once he's absolutely sure that you are completely asleep does he hiss over the top of your head.

"Jungkook What the hell-"

"I asked, you know I asked. She said she was okay I swear-"

A whispered argument ensues, drawn out until the others come home. Their anger quieting at the sound of them, Yoongi softly calls your name. Mindful of the fact you could be sleeping.

When you wake up around dinner time you're non-verbal and pupish. There are too many people around for Jungkook to be able to pull you to the side and ask, to just talk this out. He watches you close at dinner, watches and waits for a chance to talk to you that won't come. You'll pretend you're asleep tomorrow when he wakes, just to avoid it for a little while longer.

If the others notice anything strange with you at dinner time no one broaches it. Of course, you don't speak at all. Answering their questions with shaken heads and careful nuzzles under Tae’s chin where you sit side by side with her. Your chairs pulled together so that they’re more of a bench. She smells so good- so Rosey that you press your face into her shoulder to avoid the other's eyes.

Never mind the fact that you don't smell like anything at all. Maybe you're dissociating too bad to smell like anything. So disconnected from your emotions that you can't feel them let alone smell like them.

After dinner you take an extra long in the shower so that by the time you exit the bathroom Jin has already scruffed Jungkook sleepy. He looks cute too. Pouting in his sleep, restless.

There's an extra soft nesting space carved out just beside him that he made special for you with a few pillows and his favorite nesting things. It will go unused.

That night, you don't bother trying to sleep.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

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Upstairs floor plan:

Chapter playlist:

Noah Kahan - Call your mom

Coldplay - Sparks

nick cave and the bad seeds - O' children

Pine Grove- Need too

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yallemagne · 26 days

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I watched a review of a Colleen Hoover novel a while back (the only way I would ever be able to consume her work) and this video's preamble in particular really... awoke me.

The video was by SAVY WRITES BOOKS and the review was of Ugly Love. The one where the baby has huge balls and dies in a car crash. Yeah.

Something Savy said was that the book was falsely advertised as a romance when actually it was a work of erotica. It blew my fucking mind. All the stars aligned. I realized then that some of the writing I hate most? It's just a fucking genre! EROTICA!

Lol I talk about sex so much in this I figured it earned the mature filter. No one's gonna read this anyway, this is functionally a diary entry.

I've made it clear before that I hate the trope in fiction where someone drops everything in their life to be with a literal shitstain of a man just because his stinky penis is large... AND THAT'S JUST EROTICA!! The reason why I'm so mad at that trope? It's because they always advertise it as Romance or Thriller, and it's just PORN.

Romance takes place in a realm that is adjacent to reality. When someone is abusive in a romance, there is a reasonable assumption that it will be condemned and a more healthy example will be raised. Emotional abuse? Physical assault? They are not displayed as attractive tendencies in a romance.

Erotica runs by porno rules. No matter what the author has to do, someone's gotta get a penis in them by the end of the page. The author is obviously writing with one hand in their pants no matter how horrific the events they are writing are because that's the point! It's their kink! And so long as the writing is advertised to the right audience? It will be the audience's kink as well!

In erotica, rationality is simply not required. You don't need build up, or... really anything. It's porn. It's smut. If you're writing a dubious scene or what have you, you don't need any preamble, you just jump in because the point is not to enlighten, it's to entice. I hate fiction that includes rape scenes that are written to be tantalizing. But holy shit. It's not that that person has a hard-on for rape (though it could be, rapists exist and are capable of creating art as well), it's that that author has a consensual nonconsent kink and just skipped the negotiation straight to the sex.

And y'all are gonna scoff at me and call me a dumbass... but I'm asexual. This is a bit confusing to me. I'm a complete outsider when it comes to sex. But when I think about it and try to put myself in the mind of a sex-haver, I imagine sex to be the most enjoyable when there is like... tangible intimacy between the two (or more) parties. Like I can enjoy a piece of fiction where people simply fuck dirty, and I have written smut like that, but... when it gets to the point that everything in the main character's life is being sacrificed for a penis... as a person who, in real life, finds penis to be laughable at best and repulsive at worst (if any penis havers take this personally omgggg it's not you it's genitalia in general), I just... cannot abide... But it simply is not for me. That's magical.

Man, it just pisses me off, dude. That people are marking their erotica as romance. Romance is already a niche genre. It's looked down upon by men, women, and enbys alike for being most popular with women. And then romance readers aren't able to enjoy their romance because a bunch of weird erotica (neutral) has infiltrated the genre and is all anyone wants to talk about. And I imagine some erotica readers are like "hey... where the fuck are my books at???" But erotica is obviously more niche than romance because of how appalling it can get, so publishers are just like "porn is shameful, market it as a romance so we can get a movie adaptation" and I find that shitty.

#like i say bad writing is bad writing no matter how aroused you are #but not all writing has to be 'good'#sometimes all it's gotta be is 'exciting'#and the author determines that and hopefully even if a wider audience fucking hates it they find their /intended/ audience #update

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years

Text

Lose me to Love you (Loki x Female Reader) (AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 22 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 23

Summary: Loki isn't the only one fighting with his inner demons. People from your past continues to turn up.

Trigger Warning: 18+, Description of rape and assault, panic attack, violence against women, Extreme dark themes, Sexual abuse, physical abuse, public sex, Rough violent sex, 18+, Steamy stuff, age difference ,Rough language, mention of suicide, talk of virginity and slut shaming, manipulative behaviour, mention of trauma, smut, toxic relationship between main characters. Dark themes, cult stuff

His palms felt clammy, he had been standing outside the orphanage for half an hour and you were taking your own sweet time coming out, as he noticed a girl approaching him he was slightly surprised. For some reason he kept picturing the eleven year old sweet girl that he knew instead of this fully matured grown woman that he probably would have fucked if he met her at the club. Just 18, he had to remind himself that you were barely an adult.

"Hiiii" you smiled at him and he snapped out of his thoughts.

"Y/n"

"Lokii..how are you?" You were the reason he was even alive today, for a moment the feeling overwhelmed him so he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him to hug you.

"Thank you darling, thank you..I'll take care of you I promise" the gratitude slipped past his lips and as he felt your arms around his waist his nerves went calm for a moment.

"So it was your birthday a few days ago, want to do something?" You looked at him as he said that.

"Not really..Where are we going?"

"Ummm my place" you hummed as he answered.

He drove you to his house and you looked around as you both entered the studio apartment he was renting in Brooklyn. It wasn't enough for you two but that's all he was able to do at the time, the divorce settlement has ruined him even further.

"It's cozy, I like it" you placed your backpack down on the couch and smiled again.

"Well you can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch, food is in the fridge, here's the..umm some money..you can go grocery shopping or get whatever you need..the girl stuff and all" he passed you a few dollar bills so you took it from him, everything was awkward with you two and he felt it in his bones.

"What do you do for work?" You asked him and he sighed

"A small gig at a club"

"What type of gig, are you a bartender?" He combed his hair with his fingers as he tried to avoid your constant gaze.

"A bouncer..you ask too many questions" The job always paid okay, that's also how he met Jolene as well, she frequented the club he worked at and she finally asked him out one fine day. When they got married she got him a position at her accounting firm but he was fired while he was resting after the wrist slitting incident. Now he wished that he never ever met her at all.

"That's hot..i like bouncers..they're soo strong and so manly" his brows furrowed as you said that, how the hell you had even been in a nightclub? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know that.

"Well I have to go meet someone..when I come back we can discuss your uhhhh future plans…if you want to get into college or–"

"No discussion required..I want to become an actor..we should probably move to LA" you mumbled nonchalantly before you proceeded to raid the fridge that was mostly empty.

"Excuse me?" He looked at you all perplexed, getting you into acting business didn't seem feasible to him.

"LA? Los angeles?"

"I know where LA is ..are you serious about this acting thing?"

"As serious as Joker was before his dad carved his face" he looked at you all confused again as you quipped "Really??never?? Oh my god we are definitely going to watch the dark knight once you come back.. Don't worry we don't need to watch the first part.. honestly 60 percent of people skipped the first part and went straight to TDK and somehow it makes perfect sense ..it's like you're not even missing anything important or worth knowing…you know…"

Your voice faded in the background as you continued to speak gibberish to him. However your sweet voice also filled his empty sad apartment and he liked that. Alot. That was the moment he knew that life wouldn't be the same from then, he knew he'd have to make several adjustments and since he had taken the responsibility of taking care of you, your dreams and aspirations became his as well.

His eyes opened to your shaking form and he absolutely abhorred that, every time you had a nightmare he felt afraid that you'd slip past his fingers like that one horrible time. It had happened a few days prior to your mother's anniversary during the second year of living together. He never talks about it because you don't seem to have any recollection of those two days, at first he wasn't sure how to deal with you, how to bring you back but on the third night you went to sleep and came back absolutely normal. You had a bad dream last night too but it was about Thor and he just knew this one was different from that. He knew you'd probably not remember this one because it involved your mother.

"Hey sweetheart" he turned the lamp on to see you properly. His heart rendered as he noticed the tears running down the corner of your eyes,

"Loloooo …mommmyy .. I want mommmy" you sniffled, your voice reminded him of that little girl he had left at the orphanage.

"I know baby..it's okay.. open your eyes..I'm here..im here" he shook your body a little and you woke up gasping for air,

"Lolooo mommyyy ..I need mommmy"

"Shhhhhh baby.. everything is okay..you're safe" he mumbled softly as he wiped your tears, his lips lingered over your forehead before he wrapped his arm around your waist and made you sit up so he could embrace you, you felt safe that way.

He leaned against the headboard while you clutched onto him and cried your heart out.

"I'm here baby, my sweet girl, come back to me, I'm right here, you have me i promise" he mumbled mindlessly

"Don't send me away ..they sent me away every time I had a nightmare..they sent me to that place I hated" you sniffled between your words and his eyes welled up.

"You have me okay? I got you baby, I got you i promise" you hugged him as tightly as you could and your foggy grief stricken mind lulled you to sleep but he couldn't sleep that night, next morning as usual you didn't remember the outburst like always, a few years ago he had asked Steve about that place you kept talking about after such nightmares and Steve told him that it was a psychiatric hospital where they sent you whenever you relapsed or whenever you showed the signs of dissociative Amnesia.

"What are you making?" You hugged him from behind so he smiled.

"Guess" you opened the lid of the pot and all the excitement disappeared

"Porridge" your face scrunched in disgust and it made him smile.

"Well you wanted to eat healthy remember"

"Just take me to the gym again, it's been months" you groaned as you moved around the kitchen to make tea

"I will.. as soon as he's caught" You hummed as he said that "Are you feeling okay sweetheart?" He asked you softly and you shrugged

"Yeahh why?" He sighed as you said that. He wanted to ignore it like he had done before but after last night and the way you were trying to help him cope with his trauma, it had made him reflect upon your own situation, you didn't get away unscathed from his father's abuse, sure he wasn't able to harm you irrevocably but the damage was already done when he had hurt your mother.

"Because of the nightmare? Do you remember what you saw?" He asked you and you stopped doing whatever you were doing.

"Nooo.. i .. I didn't have a nightmare last night..it was the night before remember?" You walked over to him to kiss him on the cheek and he hummed in response. He can't just dump it on you, that would only make the matters worse, he had to find a way to talk to you about this.

"Take me shopping today daddy, it's my birthday in a few days"

He picked you up and sat you down on the counter as you said that. Your birthday. He promised to fuck you senselessly on your birthday but the approaching date had him feeling someway, he couldn't decide if it was a good feeling or not, a part of him wanted to ravish you and enjoy every second of it. The other part though? that bastard wanted to keep himself away from your precious body as far as possible, he didn't deserve to fuck a girl like you, he was one of the reasons why girls like you lost their lives, he was the reason why their dreams got broken so how come he got so blessed as to have someone as pure as you saving herself for him.

"What else would you like to do? A party perhaps?" You thought about it as he said that.

"Or we could just spend it together..just the two of us" you answered him while your fingers played with his chest hairs so he kissed you.

"Aren't you bored of seeing my face all the time?" He chuckled after speaking.

"Ask that girl who spent 7 years without seeing this angelic face. She'd always say no" his eyes softened as you said that.

"For this to happen it had to be that way"

"For what to happen?" You asked him confused so he cupped your cheeks.

"For this to happen.." he kissed you passionately, it wasn't a touch and go type of kiss either, his tongue slid into your mouth so you sucked on it, he tasted like peppermint. Delicious "It had to be that way" you inhaled sharply as he finally decided to allow you to breathe.

"Does it bother you that I was into you way before you were into me?" You asked him

"You were just a child sweetheart, you didn't even know what you felt"

"Well I knew I wanted to kiss you, I was ten when I knew that I wanted to kiss you and –"

"Shut Up.. that's inappropriate as hell" He pressed his thumb onto your lips but his digit couldn't really stop you from smiling or talking even

"It's just the truth, and to this date you are still the prettiest boy i have ever seen in my life"

"Well i'm no boy now my darling" he wrapped your legs around his waist to pull you closer to him and his mouth travelled down from your lips, you moaned as he sucked the soft skin of your neck.

"Some parts of you is still the boy i met"

"Uhhhuh like what?" He chuckled condescendingly so you held his cheeks and kissed him lovingly, as lovingly as you could.

"Like these eyes, still as gentle as I remember, mommy always told me that you could judge a person fairly well by the look in their eyes, you have the kindest eyes lolo" his eyes teared up as you said that. He thought you'd give him a break after last night but you were hell bent on coddling him like a baby.

"Well your mommy wasn't really the best judge of character"

"Take it back" your voice broke because the meanie in him came out again so he kissed you again.

"I'm sorry baby" he murmured against your mouth and you almost melted into a puddle because of how tender he seemed at the moment "You're forgiven" He smiled as you whispered. He wondered how badly he'd have to hurt you to make him unforgivable in your eyes because no matter what he did or said you always forgave him and that too pretty easily.

"What else?" He asked you and it confused you for a moment before it finally dawned upon you. He wanted to know more about those boyish parts of him.

"The smile, still the same, everytime I felt scared at the orphanage I would just think about you and your smiling face, that calmed me down immediately" he kissed you again instead of responding with words "And your voice hasn't changed in the slightest either"

"You are such a sentimental little girl"

"Is that bad?"

"Not at all, I just don't want to disappoint you with my stoicism" a smile graced your features at the blatant lie.

"You're pretty sentimental yourself mister "

"No I'm not"

"Yes you are"

"Shhhhhh"

After force feeding you that unsavory porridge he took you shopping like you had asked him to, you also had to be at an audition tomorrow, you needed to find work or you knew he'd try and find other works, like that thing he used to do at the club, you hated not having him at home all night.

You picked a dress but you didn't want him to see it just yet. You both spent the whole day out, it was a peaceful day but it didn't stay that way. Ofcourse it didn't. It came crashing down on you.

Your soul almost evaporated as someone ran in front of the car, you both watched a woman lying unconscious in the middle of the deserted road and you wondered if she was alive.

"Is she…oh gooddd" you mumbled under your breath so he looked at you

"Stay in here okay?" He asked you so you nodded. She had long blonde hair so it wasn't Jolene, you hated that it was your first thought. Your worries didn't cease there because as Loki rolled her over, it was someone you knew, someone you both knew very well. He picked her up hurriedly before you two could get caught by a passerby or something. After laying her down on the backseat, he quickly got in and drove towards the apartment as fast as he could.

"Ummm is that uhh--"

"Yeah and I don't trust the bitch so we are going to take her home and you're going to help me tie her up as securely as we can okay?" You looked at him all perplexed and he glared at you so you nodded.

The cops on the patrol tonight asked him about her so he lied that she was a friend that had gotten drunk out of her mind. As soon as you all reached the apartment you helped him tie her up onto a chair.

"Lokiii what are we doing..is she even alive?" you asked him nervously so he walked towards you and grabbed you by the shoulders.

"She's alive and breathing, it makes no fucking sense that she'd end up right in front of our car of all people"

"We should tell Steve "

"No not after Thor's situation, I'm already on his radar"

"But what if this brings us more trouble?" he wiped the sweat beads from his forehead as you said that. Ever since his bastard father has escaped your lives has turned into a rollercoaster that just doesn't seem to stop rolling.

You both waited for her to come back to consciousness and when she did she started to struggle against the binds almost immediately.

"Why the fuck are you here?" He asked her as he pulled up a chair right in front of her, you dragged another chair from the kitchen table, it almost looked comical as you tried to be as quiet as you could but the situation wasn't funny at all.

"Lokiii? Y/n?"

Well no memory loss it seems.

"Why the fuck You have me tied up Loki? I know you enjoyed that one time I had--" your eyes widened as she said that. He fucked her all tied up? Again you hated how your mind couldn't move past the jealousy

"Shut up.. shut the fuck up okay? Why are you here..answer me" he glared at her and she looked at you, she then gave you the sickly sweet smile that you remembered really well.

"Oh look at you now, turned yourself into Loki's pretty little girl huh?? Dreams do come true i guess"

"Sister Natasha–" Loki glared at you so you corrected yourself

"Natasha..what are you doing?"

"I don't understand, do you guys like own LA now that I can't be here?" She chuckled and Loki's teeth gritted in anger, he was so close to doing something awful

"Are you here to do his bidding again? He sent you.. didn't he?" she started laughing as he said that.

"You are still so naive loki. You know if he wanted to be here and eat her heart he'd be here, he won't need me" He stood up and all of a sudden there was a smacking sound that you heard, you looked at him shocked as he slapped her. Her lower lip split open at the force he used, your eyes teared up because you weren't expecting him to just go off like that, he never lost his control like that with you. He wasn't like that. Not with women. Not outside of consensual bedroom shenanigans.

"Ohhh I have missed that" her reaction wasn't shocking though, you knew they fucked, you just didn't know they indulged into this, though you should have guessed considering the sexual history of the cult.

"Don't make me kill you Natasha, just tell me the truth, for once in your life, tell me the truth"

He heard you sniffling so he turned his head to the side to look at you, the look on your face was enough to kill whatever shred of self esteem he still had left in him.

He walked towards you and grabbed your arm to take you to the bedroom.

"Stay here" he warned you before he turned around to leave

"This is not you loki" his eyes teared up as you said that.

"That's me sweetheart, that's the real me..still want to believe that bullshit you had made up in your head about me? This is me..the monster I keep warning you about"

You shook your head as he said that, you wanted to stop him and hold him, tell him that he wasn't a monster but he didn't give you a chance, just an hour later cops raided the house, they were tipped off. Natasha told them that he had kidnapped her, she told them that you had no involvement in all of this, you begged Steve to not believe her, you asked him to not take him away from you but he said that he was helpless. All the evidence was against him.

They wanted to take him away to lock him behind the bars, he was to be questioned later on about his motives.

And that's when you were finally able to understand why he went crazy on her, he knew her. You didn't.

You didn't know that she was as rotten as Odin. He wasn't wrong, she was there to do his bidding and she got what she needed. You without him by your side.

@annoyingsweetsstranger @whylokiissocute @loki-s-wife @fraoid3 @siggytumbles @crzyplantladyvibes @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vickie5446 @wheredafandomat @mcufan72 @xxntiimulti @loz-3 @dishahaldar @mcdesij @scram1326 @elthreetimes @army24--7 @sinsandguilt @holotacopeely @huntress-artemiss @blog-the-lilly @ultraviolencexxss @disneyismyworldforever @bunny24sstuff @kats72 @somewiseguy @asgardianprincess1050 @multifandom-world8 @loki-laufeyson-1054 @daddylokisqueen @lulubelle814 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @rogerrhqpsody @praq123

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#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #loki alternate universe #loki au #dark themes

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im-straight-i-swear-please · 2 months

Text

✦||Introduction||✦

✦||BACKSTORY:||✦

Glatt blinks slowly and groggily as he sets up his... blog? Is that what it's called. Who cares. Quackity is yapping in her ear all about whatever this website is called and what you do on it. Sounds boring. He wants a nap.

He follows a couple friend's blogs just to get it over with, even though he would very much like to only send hate anons on Wilbur's blog. He turns Quackity's laptop off, immediately face-planting into the pillows for a well-deserved nap after such hard work.

✦ ||This blog will be a roleplay blog for Glatt from the DSMP, the exact timeframe as which this takes place is debatable and mostly up to the reader, but sets between Quackity meeting Glatt at the gym and Wilbur's disappearance to Utah.

✦ ||The author will be roleplaying as Glatt and will stay in character for the most part. If out of character, the post will be tagged with 'ooc post' or 'ooc reblog'.

✦ ||Plus, it would be helpful to the author to add tone tags, to show if something is in a serious tone or in a joking or harmless tone.

✦ ||The reader can also roleplay as another character if they would like, whether in the DSMP, another SMP, or an oc is up to the reader.

✦ ||The author will not respond to anything outside of character unless: taking a break, making changes to roleplay or character(s), or noting something important.

✦ ||This blog may discuss: past abuse, rape, toxic relationships, unhealthy relationships, smoking, self-harm, internalized homophobia, mentioned sex, and suggestive topics.

✦ ||The author will try to remember to tag all of these if they appear in the posts, but feel free to remind the author if he forgets. There will be a breaker before nsfw posts. If the reader is uncomfortable with any of these topics, they can skip past or leave the blog; whatever makes them comfortable.

✦ ||Trigger warnings will be tagged with: 'tw: (tag)'

✦ ||All canon characters that are the main focus of the posts will be tagged with: 'dsmp (character)' If an oc or an anon frequently interacts, they will get a tag: '(symbol/name) anon' or 'dsmp (name)'

✦ ||If the reader has a question or comment about the post itself [ex. misspell, wrong pronouns, question about content] then send an ask to the author or a message.

✦ ||There is no defined upload schedule, though there will be posts at least once a week. Most posts are queued and are posted 8 times a day between 7AM and 3PM (Central Time). Requests or questions are welcome!

✦ ||This blog is associated with @las-nevadas-business which is a Quackity blog.

✦ ||This blog is associated with @your-body-my-temple-baby, a Wilbur blog.

✦ ||This blog is also associated with @poured-my-past-down-the-drain, a Tommy blog. Please he's so cool and awesome and nice and silly an

✦ ||Lastly, this should not be taken as canon. This is a blog a guy made about a loser block man. It is not meant to be canon and will be based on plenty of headcanons. Have fun!

✦ ||Names for character: Glatt Underscore, Glatt, Schlatt (not preferred).

✦ ||Pronouns for character: He/Him. Masculine terms used (ex. Man, brother, father)

✦ ||Family for character: Mrs. Schlatt [disowned], Mr. Schlatt [disowned], Tubbo [son], Ranboo [child-in-law], Michael [grandson].

✦ ||Relationships for character: The reader can decide any relationship [platonic or romantic] in the roleplay, as long as itdoesn't directly conflict what the author writes. The author will try to accommodate most relationships, but favors romantic Heartbreak Quartet, platonic Horns Duo, platonic New York Duo, past teenager romantic/platonic Sweater Duo.

(Edited on July 13th, 2024)

(Created on July 13th, 2024)

#roleplay #glatt #dsmp glatt #intro post #introductory post

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hellcatinnc · 1 year

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Masquerade Kiss Otome Review

Spoilers Included

This game is definitely one of the more sensual/sexual games that Voltage has that I have played. This also includes bdsm parts to it however I know others have come across the themes but for me not being one who is into that it really wasn't bad I could deal with it as part of the story line it even made sense. There is also triggers in the bosses route for rape/sexual assaults' it doesn't happen but definitely leads that way.

(Its only the boss route Kei is the bdsm route just in case your trying to skip either) So you play a spy which I found pretty neat yet to still end up with a love story definitely interesting. (Just so you know these are normally in order of my favorite but Kei is top then Yuzuru & Kazuomi are actually tied I couldn't pick between the two and boss is dead last and not even on my list really)

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Kei Soejima

This man they call the English gentleman or the prince because of his nature and politeness to people. Oh but this man has a naughty, darker side to him. However when I started this mans main story I just couldn't stop til I was done, it kept me on the edge of my seat. He is very damaged and believes love is based around domination. He trusts no one until he realizes he is in love with your character. He tells you from the beginning he wants you hooked on him and by the end of the happy ending you are both hooked together.

There are dark paths about his childhood in a church and orphanage definitely might be triggers to some. When push comes to shove though he will always protect you as well as always choose you even over his revenge of the church this man is definitely a good story to read and so worth it. Just know he isn't just a prince and gentleman but he does know how to come off as both. His sensual moments had me on the edge of my seat honestly not hard to see why you wouldn't practically melt into a puddle if this man was tying you up and dominating you.

----------------------------------------------- Yuzuru Shiba

Ok this man is like a modern day prince charming yet cold as ice to the world. I don't know its weird but he falls under closer to a kuudere he is so hard to read in the beginning and boy does he seem like he has no emotions but its cute watching him little by little let those walls down. He has a more naughty side deep down and when he tells you he wants you then you feel it in every inch of your body the shivers this man can leave. He has had a tragic past with his parents killing themselves when he was young, its what has made him more cold as ice.

However the cutest thing you see him do first for the mc is the fact that he is making out with her when she tries to pull away hitting her watch against table and her moms watch that she wore was broken. This man went out of his way to take it apart and truly fix it for her because he knew how much she loved it. I wanted to hug this man myself at that point. There are parts about him that seem overly strict and personality - less and withdrawn and other times seem sincere and docile. He has many sides but him and the mc truly understand each other and you can tell they were meant to be at least in his route. He is a bit over serious for me but I loved seeing his softer side and I think he falls for the mc before she falls for him. The moment he says I love you I felt it though.

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Kazuomi Shido

I honestly wasn't sure what to expect from him but after seeing how he could be a bit flirty on Kei's route he intrigued me especially since I like them flirty guys. I will say though this much this man keeps you excited and on the edge of your seat. With his flirtiness and his control he exceeds over you at times you will see those walls slowly break down in your character as well as him. Its almost like you can truly tell when they fall in love. I really like his character and I was pleased to see he has a good heart and has been through so much.

He isn't just some rich guy he was homeless once he knew what it was like to build himself up. Even though he comes off as a playboy he honestly has never let love in before because he didn't want to be anymore alone than he already was when and if it fell apart. I not only love his character but I truly respect it as well. He is very seductive but also has a gentle side to him to not take advantage of a woman when she is weak or drunk even. He has so many sides to who he is but that is always what makes him the most exciting in the end. He also is protective he won't let anyone hurt the woman he loves, a modern day flirty prince charming lol.

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Boss.

So I'm just sharing these few pics just to kind of show how much of a asshole he is. I got to chapter 3 of his actual route and was purely disgusted by this man. Not only in other route like shown above and below is he an asshole but he almost lets her get raped by another agent literally within the first 3 chapters. Not to mention he tells you your going to be his wife and he doesn't care if you have morals that you won't sleep with people to get the job done. He tells you that you will have to sleep with him if needs to be when the time comes to prove to the mafia your his wife. He disgusts me over and over again with his coldness and I just could not enjoy this route one day I might come back but honestly I doubt it.

Hope you enjoyed the review this was based off 1 chapter main story's nothing out side of that if I find something is worth talking about in the other routes I will surely come back and write about it.

#otome #gaming #reviews #review #masquerade kiss #yuzuru shiba #kei soejima #kazuomi shido #voltage games

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eva-reviews · 1 year

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Briefly, A Delicious Life by Nell Stevens -- A Review

Book Trigger Warnings: Sexual Assault, death, mentions of the afterlife, suicidal ideation, chronic illness, sexism, homophobia, mental illness, rape, grooming, child abuse, alcohol, pedophilia, eating disorders

My Rating

I give this book a solid 7/10. I really enjoyed this book, and I would suggest it to anyone. It was confusing at times, because of the constant switching of times, and if read over long periods it can be more confusing, goes between Present day, Blanca's perspective, and George's perspective. So you have to remember where you left off at some points, and at others points it skips for months at a time. It does mention the rape of a minor in the second chapter (pages 9-11), which leads to a pregnancy, it is not detailed but it can be triggering. You can skip those pages if you need to and it doesn’t change anything. I wish we had gotten a little more of how people reacted to Blancas death, it did feel a little rushed, but other than that it was really enjoyable.

Overview

Our main character, Blanca, has been dead for 300+ years and can not move on in her afterlife. She flits through her mundane existence watching others enjoy the simplicity of life, the fearful kisses of men, the passions of sex, the sweetness of an orange, the grumblings of hunger, and the feeling of heartbreak when losing someone. She is able to enjoy the simple pleasures of life by sharing a conscience with living people around her.

Blanca resides on the top of the hill on the island of Valldemossa, in a little town called Mallorca; in the Charterhouse, which is an old monastery. Blanca has watched secret relationships bloom and crumble, families move in and out and people live their lives to the end very end, waiting for someone to join her. On this specific November in 1838, an unconventional family moves into the Charterhouse, and Blanca falls in love with the mother, George. Their relationship is entirely one-sided and is more admiring than a relationship; Balance watches as George writes her book, the children play and fight, and Chopin lives a dying life.

My Thoughts

I went into this book only knowing that it was a lesbian relationship between a woman and a ghost. Which it is, but it is also so much more and nothing like that at all. We start with the very first sentence “Of course, it wasn’t the first time I’d seen two men kissing”, you can probably see where this is going. In most books, they try to ease you into the romance, they don’t start with a 300+ year old ghost watching two monks making out and progressing to having sex. Blanca is very lonely, as most would be if they were not able to communicate with others and watch all of their family members die off. She flits around the Charterhouse and across the island, often visiting her last living relative, her great-great-granddaughter, Bernadita; and making The Sacristan's life a living hell by sprinkling bread crumbs into all of his food, as he has celiac disease; he raped a young girl. It isn’t until George and her family move in, does Blanca have something to do with her time. When I started this book, I thought it was a love story between a ghost and a mortal woman that was reciprocated on both sides. Not a relationship where George is being watched all day, every day. Blanca steals Georges's shirt to smell and imagen that George is with her, she imagens what inside of George's vagina would feel like and how it would be to kiss her. She often caresses George as she sleeps and kisses her neck.

George is not your typical woman, not like a “I’m not like other girls” kind of way more of a “dresses suck, I wish I could fuck women all the time and not be questioned about it” kind of way. George wears shirts and pants in a time when women wore dresses, she smokes cigars, she writes books, has sex with women, and is generally unwomanlike for the time she is in. George was married, that's how her kids came about, but she and her husband divorced. It wasn't a typical relationship either way, he had sex with the maids and any other woman that would have him , while she handled the finances and wrote her books. She jumped from man to man, and the occasional woman, she went to parties and lived alone in Paris, this is where she met her most prominent partner, Francis Chopin. Yes, the real famous pianist. Although they thoroughly enjoyed each other, they did not do well together. Chopin is needy, “girlish”, and babies Solange (George's daughter) and George is controlling, adventurous, and rash, she can’t stay in one place for long. Chopin possibly has consumption disease (ie. TB) or some other unidentified ailment. And they go to Mallorca, Spajn in hopes it will make him better. It doesn’t work, and he gets much worse.

The book jumps between the present, Blanca's past, and Georges's past. I’ll focus on one character at a time. First Blance. We learn that Blanca was 14 when she died, she had a pretty ok life. It was going fine, until Ham fucked it up. Ham is a novice Monk from the monastery that Blanca notices when the monks go on a walk. Ham diverges from the group and goes to the beach instead, and Blanca follows, which is when her fate was sealed. They meet on the beach multiple times, and Ham convinces Blanca they should have sex. Which is an A+ idea, Ham! Blanca doesn’t really enjoy it, because screw women's pleasure right! Only men should enjoy sex. Ham tells Blanca to wash her vagina out after as to not get pregnant, great idea Ham. And… it didn’t work, Blanca got pregnant, it's obviously her fault because a monk/man could never cause that. Nope. Never. I hate Ham so much, who's nickname is Ham anyway? It's so stupid. And when Blanca and her mom confront him about her being pregnant and how they have to get married, he blames her for running his life! Like what? NO. Just because you found out your actions have consequences for the first time in your life does not mean you can blame everyone else for an issue you helped cause. And then after she breaks down because she doesn't want this baby he asks her to have sex again?? NO! Anyway, Blanca ends up dying of childbirth in his room with blood everywhere, so I guess that's payback enough.

Now on to George. As a child, George was sent to a boarding school taught by nuns. I love the queer religious trauma already. She meets a friend here, nicknamed Boy for her boyish nature. She is rebellious and punched George at their first meeting. They begin meeting up at night, playing and talking. They have a game where they have to save the lost princess and when George asks what Boy is going to do when they save the princess, she responds “I’ll kiss her”, this is Georges's first experience with a non-heteronormative idea. George admired Boy for her willingness to not conform to society norms, like women wearing dresses, and reading books not writing books. George is most likely bisexual, and she was in straight relationships, like her husband, a poet names Jules, and Chopin, however when she was with Jules she also met an actress named Marie. They start off as friends, exchanging letters, moving on to longing glances and later on it is implied that she and George had sex when Jules leaves for the night. George admits to fantasizing about having sex with her, mentioning what she would imagen touching another women's vulva.

Conclusion

As I finished the last few pages, I found myself reflecting on life, genuinely, I hadn't thought of the nuances that I pass over just because I do it all the time. Like enjoying the subtleties of fruit, the laughter I hear when on a walk, the breeze that flows through the trees — unconventional love, and the pursuit of identity. "Briefly, A Delicious Life" is a testament to the power of storytelling to shed light on the human experience in all its complexities from the point of view of someone whose life ended too early.

In short, this book is a worthy addition to anyone's shelf, especially if you like ghosts, queerness, and revenge.

#briefly a delicious life #ghost #lgbtqia #sapphic #wlw #books #review #book review #you should read it #bisexual

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abri-chan · 2 years

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Regarding sadistic beauty bl side story... Why is it so toxic? 🤔 I somewhat can understand 90/mid-2000 even like bl stories ten years ago that skip over repercussions of rape and glorify toxic, abusive relationships... But this author was aware of these, hell since she has twitter she was definitely made aware through feedback... It's 2022 and yet again and again I see this trope in the story, where main character despite awareness of abuse they go through still ends up with abuser and it's presented either as somewhat happy ending or, like in Minho case, as inevitable, which might be worse... Like, why is it so normalised in bl stories? Authors main Sadistic Beauty ending presented similarly, but it's through abuser pov (Duna), not abused (they are in bdsm relationship, but honestly Duna more than once goes over boundaries)... and that ending wasn't depressing and in a light "at least I'm not lonely" :/ Not to mention since when WK became Minho's fifth most important person? He shouldn't even be in top 1000 after what he did... Sick story. I blame patriarchy x) But seriously... wtf

so... i agree BL has some romanticized, or at the very least normalized dish of abuse that wouldn't extend to other stories.

My personal opinion on all this? I think the writer can't be made to willingly write m/m stories. That is no way mean to shame her; it is well and valid for an author to only want to write stories centered around women, which translates to f/m and f/f ships only. Sadistic Beauty (the main comic) did this, and it worked great for the plot, that is not just separate smut scenes that were hot (SB BL had this too!), but a sense of where the story is going as though some overall plan has been laid out. Unfortunately, BL sells way more than f/f or f/m (and boy do we need good f/m with some decent female leads and away from the male gaze), and the Sadistic Beauty spinoff was in my opinion because of two possibilities: 1) the writer tried to milk the bl popularity (unlikely) and 2) the writer really wanted to close up the plot-threads for the remaining characters of the Duna-harem, but she overestimated how much her heart was into writing m/m, realized it half-way in, and defaulted to generic bl tropes for each chapter. That is to say, the plot of SB BL became a piece of paper pulled out of a hat as to what generic abuse WK will pull on Minho this chapter. Don't get me wrong, I think the spinoff had some moments or insights (I really loved how the visuals portraying Minho's depression and suicidal tension, and I think the writer does have hot sex scenes, which by themselves can be quite good--Minho taking the lead and WK being assigned to bottom for once, right before Minho decided to attempt suicide.), but overall those are few and far in between, and the overall plot was left hanging: won't WK have no money now that mom cut him off? will the cues about Minho loving writing over Duna lead nowhere, that is won't we see any hint of Minho going back to writing and having self-realization that extends beyond being with WK? will WK learn shit from this story (no he wont', he got Minho in the end after throwing a fit, and he didn't have to change a thing. Because he also wanted to get rid of his mom, and he cut ties, so Minho was only cinder in a fire that already existed to push him to do so)? I was reading some other "unhealthy" BLs as I was reading this spinoff and the spinoff gave me flashback to many of the same scenes even I had seen in those mangas: chain to bed, kill him if he leaves, uke somewhat never makes the smart decision of getting out when he can... etc etc...

So in short, my take with the spinoff is not how healthy or unhealthy it was, but lack of direction, where the twists or scenes felt copy-cat but done with better art or sensibility, but nothing that kept me wanting to re-read like the main Sadistic Beauty. I think maybe the writer eventually realized where her passion lies, so who knows, she may not write any m/m in the future because she always want a woman in the mix. In a way, I respect that, and that also provides an answer to everyone that complained by SB had all men available to Duna and no proper m/m relationships, as in strictly gay: it is because the manga was meant for women, and it pandered to women (boo hoo, deal with it, pandering to women for once), so similarly to how in anything pandering to men all women are straight or bi, but never lesbian because the man needs to insert himself, all men were bi or straight in SB, and all women were bi or lesbian, so Duna, and in that way, the female reader, could insert herself in any situation. I don't think the writer is under any obligation to give us strictly male gay couples; don't like, don't read. I did wish the BL spinoff tied more ends though, not so much that I care about m/m, but because WK was my favorite male character from the original, and I highkey wanted him to be tamed by Duna and end up as her sub. I had high hopes and he kinda disappointed me in the spinoff, proving he can't be a proper dom, and all he does is out of spite for not being able to outdominate his mother.

Eventually, you need passion to break the mold, of toxic BL in this case, and the passion for m/m just wasn't there for this writer, it seems.

#anime manga rambles #sadistic beauty

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broodpeas · 1 year

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random thoughts Ugly Betty, tv adaptations and colombian tv

Early on the year I saw Betty la Fea. I had never seen it, so I thought that what better way to feed my depression than watching a novela and eating a big bag of candies my husband got me? And so I watched it....well tried. I watched all something hundred episodes but I had to speed up a lot. I was amazed by how terrible it was, and surprised that they let this novela turn into a current pop culture moment. Sure, it has some funny moments (Freddy dancing and singing are the only funny moments) but overall, who needs GOT when you have rape, thief, aesthetic, physical and verbal abuse and assault all wrapped up in 30 minutes episode?

To be fair with myself, I kinda suspected this ever since Betty came into the colombian zeitgeist, between 2001 and 2002. It became a powerful bullying tool (still used today in workplaces to justify work assault and abuse, how nice!) but also an influential tv show where even the president had a cameo (a president that needed that because he was going through some political bullshit when you find out you gonna understand nothing because this country is a circus!). My husband told me Betty really broke the mold of colombian television, the same way narcovelas did some decades later. But anyway, the point here is: every adaptation of Betty I heard off, I decided it was terrible and not worth watching, so when Ugly Betty came out, I was like 16 years old and I said hell no. I skipped it, preferring other tv shows like Grey's Anatomy.

When I finished watching betty la fea, I decided that there was no way in hell I'd watch another colombian novela. That was enough and then I moved onto other tv shows. There's a lot to say on the relationship between good taste and television, and the fact that people consider novelas to be bad tv because only low class people watch it is still a valid argument- altho it's also true some people don't watch it because they follow a heteronormative and white portrayal of people. Novelas are believed to be ways to indoctrinate people and this is right (they do) but then again, they also portray society in a way no other tv show could do. It's like a snake biting its own tail, so the argument of taste has to be thought with care and attention because it will bite you in the damn ass. And because I'm catching up with a lot of tv, I decided that I had enough with all of this and put a stop and watch something light, something for a waiting room, or for falling asleep and because Disney+ only has cartoons and Ugly Betty you can see why I chose the second and not the first (I love toys but cartoons no longer make sense to me).

So far, I'm like 6 episodes in and I liked it. It's really good and extremely different from the original version, the only thing similarity is that the main character is called Betty and she has brackets. Everything else is different and yes it has its own flaws (there was no need for Salma Hayek to take her shirt off an elevator, and also Daniel needs therapy and to apologize to Amanda), but overall....it's great television. All characters are human and the mockery of fashion is hilarious (the joke of latex dress worn by kate moss that a baby could wear....mean spirited but so on point, my feminism left my body and I don't think it's coming back any time soon). Betty is a good person, but she's also selfish and she gives people a hard time and she is sassy. Her nephew Justin is a queer icon, as is Marc -played by Michael Urie, who's now in Shrinking, an apple tv sitcom that should get emmy noms- and the freedom they have to be themselves is just so good. I just like it and I hope it stays within these lines.

This very long babbling of words also works for me to think a bit about adaptions. TV is very good in adapting books and movies into long format series (like Fargo). Last year when it was announced sex and the city would had a reboot, I was amazed because it was different from an adaption, but it felt more like this than a reboot. the turn and the absences, the overall feel of the show, felt nothing like the original version and I don't know if this was intentional but proves my point adaption is a murky land, that can be very productive or can fuck something up. With the HP announcenment, apart form the obvious question of why giving a terf more money, the question of why making more adaptions about something that doesn't need any more content because it has nowhere to go kinda sprung on me. Let me put it like this: who needs to know more about that school and the peoples and whatever? Who asked for this? Who will be watching this? and well, I'm at it, so let me throw Tolkien in the fray, because I still think Rings of Power was fantastic but do we really needed a tv show about a mashup of short stories and the silmarillion (I'm not sure if they actually used this and I'm too lazy to look for it but if you know, let me know lol)? If you look closely, almost all tv show lately has been adaptations: from wednesday (which was, in my modest opinion, perfect and I'm excited for season 2) to house of dragons (of the dragon? sorry?)? Perhaps only sitcoms are the only tv area where creativity is happening, even when following a formula (abbot elementary, what we do in the shadows, it's always sunny in philadelphia, shrinking and for some reason, people think succession it's comedy, listen here this is later but huh?!) . Do we need all these adaptations, some presented as reboots and some that want to be a breaking point from the original concept? Is this it for us? Did we peak on creativity and ideas for the best way to entertain people?.

I love television. I have never believed we're in a golden age of television, but I do love the tv we have now, because it has freed itself from the kantian perception of "good aesthetic" and it's just a really nice way to distract yourself, to soothe in and to just be. TV actors are really the shit and the US writing striking currently happening now is only gonna help to make US television better. I wish colombian television would also go on a strike to strive for a variety of content, to break the monopoly they have on what kind of content is made and who gets to make it and why. The stories colombian pop culture has...they deserve to be told in a different format, with a better formula. They deserve to be adapted and rebooted. They deserve something more than the formula betty la fea and cafe and gaviota and pedro el escamoso has left us with.

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ac3id · 4 years

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Plaything | 18+

plaything 0/ ?? | part 1

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 0: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation.

summary: by luck, you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt, and powerful brats who just seem to hate you, and among them, a certain red-eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 0: you reject bakugou’s proposal to fuck in the dirty boys' washroom so he teaches you a lesson.

— navigation

wordcount. 2k+

a/n: hello !! so this is like a little introduction to my yandere! bully! bakugou series fic. there’s also going to a lot of other bnha character mentions but the main pairing will be w/ baku n reader. enjoy!

“bakugou, i don’t want to do this,” your voice is weak as you bite on your lower lip, trying to stop sinful moans from leaking out of your mouth. bakugo has you bent over the cold and wet sink counter, your chest pressed against the dirty marble while your skirt is flipped over your displaying your bare, perky round ass to his stalking eyes. “who are you calling bakugo?” he spanks your ass with force, making you lose your footing as your head bumps lightly against the mirror.

“sorry, master,” you answer barely above a whisper but it’s loud enough in the empty washroom for him to hear yet he makes you repeat yourself,

“what was that, brat? i couldn’t fucking hear you.” he spanks you again, his heavy hand coming in contact with your soft ass with ferocity sending you flying off your feet.

“i am sorry, master!” you exclaim a little loudly, hoping it would satisfy him. and it does. he scoffs crudely, ghosting his fingers over your pussy lips before dipping his large fingers between them and petting your dry hole. he plays with your cunt, stroking his fingers lovingly over your little pearl, gathering wetness as he slips one finger into your hole. pumping them in and out at a slow pace. he takes his time, building up your orgasm while laughing wickedly as you try to hold in your moans. his fingers inside your cunt increase their pace as your juices start dripping down to your thighs,

“you said you don’t want this?” while his right hand destroys your cunt, his other hand wraps around your small neck. grasping it lightly, making it harder for you to breathe. “why are you dripping everywhere like a slut? hm?”

he had pulled you aside from regular classes, declaring them boring as fuck and that he wanted to do something much better like; fucking you in the boys' washroom. you denied, you told him no. you wanted to attend the lesson and besides skipping with him wouldn’t be any good to you. he was not kind to you, he was a meanie. he still insisted; telling you it’s fine, he knows the material. he can just tutor you later. no harm done, see? see?

if there was anything you hated more than being stuck in the prestigious u.a. high where everyone seemed to be out for your blood was spending time with bakugo katsuki. and being with him alone was another nightmare. he hated you. you didn’t know why, he’d never say why. you just assumed it was because of that one time you accidentally spilled coffee on him or maybe it was just because you breathed. honestly, both seemed favorable in this situation.

after many failed attempts of convincing you to come with him, he gets fed up. he pulls out his phone and shoves it into your face. his screen displays pictures of you which he had taken before and the ones which you had sent him. they are all lewd shots. pictures of you sucking him off while looking into the camera with glassy eyes illuminated the screen and as you swiped right it changed to another with the same background, lighting, and angle but the only difference being that your face was now covered with his seed while you posed for the camera with an innocent smile.

a look deeper into his gallery and you find your nudes which bakugo had forced you to take. it was necessary for you to be naked with your tits and ass being visible, he also wanted to see your face and would never settle for anything else. he never settles for anything without your face in it, makes you take those shots again and again until he’s satisfied with the results. he saves them, all of them. even the ‘bad ones' have been screenshotted and saved onto his phone for his personal use. he never tells what he uses them for but you don’t need to hear it from him. you already know he’s jerking off to each one of them every night before he goes to sleep.

it’s funny, anyone could take a look at those pictures and find out they are not photos exchanged between lovers. your expressions- no matter how hard you try, you always end up looking like you want to cry. there’s fear in your eyes and it just doesn’t feel authentic. it looks forced. like someone had put a gun to your head while you sat and took them. and well, that’s not a far-fetched idea.

he promises these are for his eyes only, “no one else gets to you like this. you are mine.” his words exactly but when his friends also start staring at you with lust-ridden eyes, you can’t help but question his words.

he blackmails you into coming with him. threatening he’d leak those pictures all around the school if you didn’t come with him as if he hadn’t already. as if your compromising photos weren’t already saved in all of your classmates’ phones anyway. bakugo should give himself a pat on the back, he’s such a great actor!

“for someone who doesn’t want this,” his demeaning, rude voice pulls you back from the dreamland you were trying to escape to. he forces you nearer to your edge, tiny whimpers leave your lips accompanied with loud moans as his fingers brush deliciously against your sweet spot. your precious cunt greedily pulls him in deeper and deeper, inviting him graciously into your womb but unfortunately, his fingers aren’t that long. but you know what is?

“you sure are dripping like a whore.” with every whimper which leaves your supple lips, bakugo feels himself get harder. his pants tighten as a bulge starts straining against his expensive, pleated bottoms. the hand prettily choking your neck detaches itself leaving you inhaling puffs of air as he works his pants off his hips. as you hear the rattling of his belt coming undone, a loud cry enough to draw attention from others outside of the room leaves your throat.

it catches bakugo off guard but nonetheless helps him get even harder, he likes to make you cry and get off to it. “why are you crying, bitch? it’s not doing you any favors here.” his fingers rub against your swollen, little pearl while lining up his fat cock to your blinking hole. “please, bakugo, don’t. i will do anything, anything else. just not this, i’ve never done this before.” you sound pathetic. your voice breaking with every word you utter. big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks while you ugly cried. bakugo almost feels sorry.

but in all honesty, he really couldn't care less about you. all your whining and crying only incite him further as ruthless ideas to break you down flood his mind. the kindest so far being him taking you right here and now but, but a sudden flash of seeing you utterly broken and in misery flashed before his eyes and he couldn’t let go of it. he wanted to see you tremble much more than you were right now. he wanted to see you cry much more than you were crying right now. Maybe he did hate you, he always pushed you around like you were his little pet of some sort to prove a point- that he is better than you. he is superior, you must respect him. you should kiss the ground he walks on, you should let yourself be his little plaything. then maybe, he’ll let you loose? who knows, he might just get even more obsessed.

as he watches you cry beneath him, your pathetic whimpers reverberating off the marble walls, a wicked idea pops into his head. he pulls his dick away from your exposed hole instead, replacing it with his fingers like before. “fine, brat.” his voice is softer, it surprises you. was he not going to rape you after all? “just because you said anything.” there it is again, the edge in his voice that makes you regret what you said. now, you know he has something worse planned for you. but it’s too late, you can’t go against your word now. you said anything, get ready to do anything. “stop squirming, i’m trying to make you cum. god knows whether you can even do that for yourself.” you most definitely can.

"a bitch like you needs someone to do everything for her.” again, you are probably the most independent student in the whole school,

“am I right, princess?” you are so wrong. “yes, master.”

no matter how crude and humiliating his words were and how much you hated his voice, you still found yourself clenching around his fingers almost ripping them off. your cunt squeezed his digits tightly as the coil building in your stomach tightened. moans of his name echoed all over the room as you felt yourself come closer. bakugo was taking his time playing with you, drawing you out making your release painfully slow as a form of revenge. you begged for him to play with your little clit so you could achieve ecstasy but he was too petty. after minutes of agonizing you to the point, there were tears streaming down your face and drool escaping your lips, falling onto the wet counter. he finally decided to flick his finger against your hardened bud. rubbing tight circles, he played with it aimlessly until he felt the gush of wetness around his fingers and the high-pitched scream which left your mouth as you came. his other hand pumped his still-hard cock. he was still pissed that he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you but it was fine for now. he had something much brutal set up in his mind for his plaything, he was aware that what he was planning might completely destroy but he figured it was worth it. much better to have a mindless slave who lives to fulfill her master’s wishes anyway.

he lets go of you, backing away with his hard cock still out and aching for relief. the huge head blushed red and leaking with pre, too bad he won’t get to finish inside of you yet. you quickly walk away from him, bending forward to search for your discarded panties. bakugo grunts at the sight of your wet pussy presenting itself to him, riling him up even more than he already was. He wastes no time pumping his cock at the sight of your exposed bottom, gasp and groans of pleasure escaping his lips,

“oi, what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, catching you sliding your panties on your legs. you turn around to face him, face burning when you are met with him stroking his cock at your movements. your eyes almost can’t leave the sight of his leaking cock, hard and begging to be played with and as much as you to admit it; it lights a fire inside you.

“stop fucking staring, you’re making it worse,” he growls and you immediately turn your eyes to his face. he smirks, “what? do you want it now? too bad, it’s too late,” he taunts. his eyes trail your body, eyebrows furrowing when he looks down your legs. “who told you to wear them,” he points at your panties between your legs. you give him a confused look, “you’re not allowed to put them on. give them to me,” he commands and panic crosses your eyes. you hesitate for a moment, debating whether you should listen to him or not. his fists clench as he glares at you, sending shivers down your spine, “what are looking at! give!” he speaks louder this time in a demanding tone as if he was scolding a little child who had picked up something from his office. your fingers tremble as you reach out to give the pink fabric to him, “leave.” what? you look at him in confusion. your big, doe eyes racking fear and anxiety. you wait for him to laugh or make a sarcastic remark about how gullible you are but it never comes. instead, he wraps your cotton panties around his cock, right in front of you, and begins jerking himself off. you are disgusted and petrified by his shameless actions, “what are you standing here for? leave. remember you said anything?” yeah, so you did. and you regret it already.

your legs tremble as you walk towards the door, pushing it open and peaking your head to check for people in the hallway. once you find it empty you walk out to the outside before sparing one last glance inside the dirty washroom. you hope for bakugo to call out to you, call you back but all you see is him cumming thick ropes into your panties while his eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy. yeah, you weren’t getting those back.

with shame and defeat written all over your face, you make your back to your classroom. your face is heated with embarrassment and humiliation as you remember you are walking around practically naked just an accident away from flashing yourself to anyone who cares to see. for the better half of the day, you walk around tugging your skirt as low as it can get. you don’t see bakugo for the rest of the day as he leaves you alone but when you do catch his eyes for a second or two, the wicked grin stretching over his features is hard to miss. He knows exactly what he is doing.

just as the day is about to end, he walks behind you squeezing your bare ass from under your skirt managing a surprised shriek from you when you feel his warm palms caress your ass pervertedly, “cute.” he whispers in your ear before turning you around and pinning you the wall. his fingers slide up your thighs moving closer to your cunt. warm digits graze over your slit earning a gasp from you, “come over, I will tutor you on the subjects you missed.” he kisses your neck, “come just like this.” he spanks your ass lightly before he leaves you be. his words are absolute and you know better than to disobey him, all of this was happening because you disobeyed him. you gather your things and walk up to his dorm room dressed just as you were before: in your school shirt, blazer, skirt, and no panties just as he wants it. when you arrive in his room you are met with his entire friend group sitting there with their books and pencils out. kaminari, kirishima and sero are not as surprised to see you as you are to see them. they greet you with happy faces which you return with a light smile.

“hey,” bakugo says with a smirk, guiding you to sit between sero and kirishima. between them the two humongous men, you feel like a child. with kirishima being tall and muscular and Sero being tall, lean and surprisingly packing a few too, makes you feel like a dwarf. you feel small and tiny in their presence and they very much notice it, sending knowing looks to one another while bakugo tries to tutor you. you know something’s up.

not a lot of studying takes place as kirishima grows impatient and slides his hand under your skirt and settles it over your cunt, rubbing his fingers on your pussy lips, occasionally pressing them on your clit. sero flips your skirt displaying your naked cunt to peering eyes. kaminari whistles, “wow, she really wasn’t wearing anything the entire day,” he comments. with one hand, Kirishima captures your wrists behind your back and pushes you on his lap. sero holds your legs to prevent you from squirming around like a dead fish, trying to break free. “so who goes first?” kaminari asks, walking over to you and crouching at your level. kirishima holds tightly with him seated on bakugo’s bed, kaminari flashes you a charming smile before his fingers run to unbutton your t-shirt, pulling your tits out of your bra. he tugs on one of your nipples while kishima’s large digits tugs on another.

“obviously me, dumbass.” bakugo barks coming closer to you. tears prick at your eyes as you beg him to stop, you tell him you’re sorry and that you will never disobey him ever again but he’s too far gone. the other men in the room might feel a little shitty about what they were going to do but there is no remorse in bakugo’s eyes. he looks at you like a predator looks at his prey, stalking about to pounce at any given second, “shut up, whore. you asked for this.” tears break loose as kirishima starts spreading your legs on command. wandering fingers rubbing at your pussy, trying to get you ready are forced to stop as bakugo declares that it must hurt for you. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know you should have never said no to me right? be grateful for what’s being given to you, you’re our little plaything. a cute, little slut. you don’t get to say no,” his rough fingers grab at your jaw, prying it open as he spits in your mouth. “now just shut up and take our cocks, okay?” you cry out yes but he’s not satisfied. His hand strikes against your face, your cheek stings with burning hot pain as more tears leak out of your eyes. grabbing your face harshly, he lifts it up so you’re facing him, “okay?” he repeats. you calm your breath before answering him, fear and anxiety fucking you up in dread for what’s to come.

“yes, master,” you say in the most submissive voice you make out.

1K notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

two can keep a secret

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: What is the difference between a secret and a lie? Jason Todd is in love. But will his relationship survive when Y/N realizes she doesn’t know him at all?

Word Count: 9,500+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of rape, domestic violence, and murder

She is the first thing he thinks of when he slowly comes to.

Not her face, like some glowing angel that you always see in those stupid movie montages, where the protagonist’s wife or girlfriend tragically died and he’s thinking of her.

No, Jason is thinking about how pissed Y/N’s going to be when he misses date night.

Jason didn’t need to go out to a fancy restaurant or cocktail bar to be content. Doing absolutely nothing with Y/N was more than enough for him. But she deserved more than that – not that she ever said so. Jason was the one who insisted on taking her out every so often. So he sucked it up and did anything to make that woman smile. It didn’t hurt that Y/N was too talented at dolling herself up.

Y/N was probably sitting with her hair curled and her makeup done to perfection (after watching a YouTube tutorial for a look she had been wanting to try for weeks). Or, depending on how much time had passed, she had given up and bitterly changed into her pajamas.

The other unfortunate fact was that Y/N still didn’t know that Jason had a double life. She had zero idea that her boyfriend of a few months was also the infamous Red Hood.

So, yeah, Y/N was going to be pissed, thinking that Jason simply forgot about date night or just completely blew her off.

Just when Jason was fighting the migraine to open his eyes, someone kicked his shins roughly.

“I know you’re awake,” someone sang to him.

Jason blinked and squinted, realizing that his helmet was still intact.

Well, that’s one positive.

He looked at the man standing just a few feet away from him. Decked out in a fancy green suit, horned rimmed glasses, and that stupid little bowler hat.

The Riddler.

Jason always found him to be mostly an inconvenience. But clearly he’d done something to piss off the annoying genius, because this was a lot of effort on his part.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason growled, knowing his voice sounded even more dangerous with his helmet distorting it.

Riddler smiled and put his arms behind his back. “You have become rather troublesome, Red Hood.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Jason answered with sarcasm.

But Jason hadn’t been interfering with the Riddler for quite some time, so he was still rather confused what was going on.

“Our mutual friend is quite tired of you meddling with his business. Also, it’s not cheap to replace all of his goons you keep murdering.”

Jason tilted his head. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

Riddler narrowed his eyes with slight annoyance. “Why the Clown Prince of Crime, of course.” Jason’s body tensed at the name and the Riddler noticed immediately. “He figured if you came back from the dead once before, there’s a chance you could do it again.”

Then the Riddler stopped his pacing and did a dramatic gesture to himself. “Which is where I come in. You see, he thought it would save him some time and effort to simply hire me.” He moved closer to Jason. “He figured if he couldn’t kill you…maybe you deserve a different punishment.”

Jason audible sighed. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

While it sounded like a joke, there was a truth to the question. Jason stopped fearing death long ago. And once you’ve died and come back to life, there’s nothing really that scared Jason Todd anymore. Which was why he had become the ruthless and merciless antihero of Gotham.

Batman would hurt criminals enough to break them. Red Hood would simply kill them.

Though after fighting his family became too much, Jason finally agreed to stop his massacres. But the criminals of Gotham didn’t need to know that. And Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how much they shook at the mere sight of him.

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure out how to return some fear into that ice cold heart of yours,” Riddler whispered in Jason’s ear before pressing a button.

A swinging light bulb flashed on.

No, no, no, no. no.

Below the source of the light was Y/N, tied to a chair by her hands and feet. A rag was across her mouth and tied at the back of her head. She was only in her underwear and a baggy t-shirt – Jason’s t-shirt. Further proving that she had been ripped from her bed and brought here against her will.

Jason completely controlled his reaction to seeing his girlfriend being held captive just 20 feet across from him. But in reality, his heart was about explode out of his chest.

Not this. Not her. Anything but her.

“What is this?” Jason asked, trying to sound as devoid of emotion as possible. The less she seemed to mean to him, the less Riddler would want to use her against him.

“I think you know exactly what this is, Red Hood.” Then Riddler practically skipped to Y/N’s side, who looked confused and terrified, clearly having no idea why any of this was happening to her of all people.

“Your quarrel is with me, Riddler. There’s no need to involve an innocent civilian.” Jason’s voice was cool and even.

But he ignored Jason and pulled a pistol out from the back of the waist.

Jason couldn’t remain calm any longer. He started struggling against the ties.

“Don’t worry. The fun has just begun. You get these three riddles right and I won’t hurt her – at least…not yet.”

But Jason was looking at Y/N. She was looking back at him, which did little to reassure her. She didn’t know who he was and his helmet wasn’t designed to comfort people.

“Hey, it’s gonna be OK.” He tried to tell her as softly as he could.

For some reason, she nodded. But Jason knew her well enough to see his words had little impact on her. Tears started streaming down her face and her entire body was shaking as she felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to her head.

“Shall we begin?” Riddler asked with a creepily joyful smile.

Jason waited. But as the Riddler was distracted, he was able to maneuver his arms to press the panic button on his wrist to send out a distress signal to the right people. It was his first time using it, always too proud or stubborn to ask for help.

But if Y/N was involved, none of that mattered anymore.

The Riddler’s eerie tone brought him back, “When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But if you do share me, you don’t have me.” He took in a deep breath. “What am I?”

Jason’s chest was heaving with anger. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve stayed away from Y/N. He was a curse, a disease. Anyone that got close to him just ended up in danger. And he should’ve known better than to think he could be happy without consequences.

“Clock’s ticking, Red Hood.” He cocked the gun. “What am I?”

“A secret,” Jason growled.

“Surprise, surprise. There does seem to be some semblance of a brain underneath that stupid helmet of yours.”

Y/N closed her eyes in relief, causing more tears to escape and slide down her cheeks.

“When you have me more, you can see only less. What am I?” The Riddler asked.

Jason thought on the next riddle as he tried to find one of his knives hidden in his sleeve. But even when he grabbed one, it would take far too long to cut through this thick rope that kept him tied down.

“Darkness,” Jason answered confidently.

The Riddler seemed annoyed now. “One more riddle and then we’ll move on to another game. Or maybe we won’t, if you get it wrong.” He shifted so he was directly behind Y/N and facing Jason as he pointed the gun at the back of her head.

“The person who built it, sold it. The person who bought it, never used it. The person who used it, never saw it.” He tilted his head. “What is it?”

Jason finally found the edge of a knife. He subtly started cutting at the ropes on the back of his chair, praying he could buy himself enough time to get him out.

The Riddler lifted the gun to the ceiling and shot it, causing Y/N to jump and let out a yelp.

“I’m waiting!” He snapped at Jason.

“A coffin!” Jason growled. “Put the gun down and let her go. You’ve had your fun.”

The Riddler laughed. “Oh, you think that this was the main attraction?” He put the gun down, but moved to grip Y/N’s chin roughly.

“Secrets, darkness, coffin,” Riddler listed the three answers aloud. Then he turned to Jason. “What do all of them have in common?”

Riddler moved back behind Y/N and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The feeling alone caused a chill to go down her spine. “You’ve been lied to, my dear. The decision to bring you here was not random at all. That I can promise you.”

“Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone,” he sang loudly, his voice echoing in the warehouse. Then he danced back to Y/N and pulled down the rag around her mouth, finally allowing her to speak.

“Red Hood, question for you. How many people have you killed?”

Don’t do this, Jason begged in his mind.

He didn’t answer.

The Riddler didn’t appreciate this and quickly walked to Y/N, smacking her across the face with the back of his hand.

Jason struggled against his restraints.

Riddler whipped back to him. “Answer the question!”

“I don’t know,” he barked back.

“You don’t know because there’s so many?” Riddler challenged.

“I don’t keep track,” Jason answered quickly, knowing his silence would only cause Y/N more pain.

“More then 10?”

“Yes.”

“More then 50?” Riddler asked with an evil grin.

“Yes.”

Riddler turned to Y/N. “It’s actually 83.”

It was the first Jason had heard the number. But he knew better than to question it.

“You call yourself a hero. But looks to me like you’re just a murderer,” the Riddler cooed with a sneer.

Jason hung his head in shame. “I’ve never called myself a hero.”

Riddler ignored his comment and turned his attention fully to Y/N now. “Now this next one is for you, dear. And it’s a tricky one.” The Riddler took in a deep breath. “I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many…or only just one.”

Y/N swallowed, repeating the words over and over again in her head.

“L-Love,” she finally stuttered out, but seemed sure of her answer.

The Riddler smiled at her response. He turned to Jason. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Red Hood.” Then he shifted his weight. “Or should I say Jason?”

Jason saw the confusion on Y/N’s face from the comment.

“Tell me dear, did you know you were in love with a murderer?”

Y/N was discombobulated by such a question.

But before she could figure it out, the Riddler rushed to Jason and ripped off his helmet. When he saw that Jason was wearing a domino mask underneath, he rolled his eyes. “All you bats and birds are so paranoid!” Then he ripped that off, too.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of her boyfriend.

But Jason didn’t catch it. He was too busy hanging his head, scared to meet her gaze.

“Surprised?” The Riddler asked her with glee.

Her tears started again. But they weren’t just from being scared now. They were tears of betrayal.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” the Riddler mocked.

“You did what you wanted. Now let her go,” Jason growled.

He tugged at his ropes, but his knife wasn’t cutting fast enough.

“Let her go?” The Riddler was baffled. “Who said anything about letting her go? I said I wasn’t going to hurt her if you cooperated. But killing her is the only way I can hurt you, Red Hood. Don’t worry, I shall make it quick!”

With that he raised his gun to her head once again. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, truly believing this is how she was going to die.

“NO!” Jason screamed.

But right before pulling the trigger, Riddler’s grip was knocked away by a batarang.

Jason felt sick with relief when he turned to see Batman and Robin making their way to the Riddler.

Riddler was not a fighter. He always made a run for it.

But when he turned to do so, he was met with Nightwing blocking his path.

Jason felt someone drop behind him and realized that Red Robin was getting rid of his restraints.

Riddler looked around him with crazed eyes, realizing he was about to be outnumbered five to one. “This is too many vigilantes for my liking. Time for backup.” He pulled out a button and pressed it before Dick could rip the unknown device from his hands.

An explosion erupted in the warehouse, catching everyone off guard.

Tim had just finally released Jason from his restraints when the impact hit.

Jason saw as Y/N’s chair was knocked off its legs, taking her to the floor with it. Her head slammed against the hard concrete floor.

As soon as the explosion settled, Jason sprinted to her.

When he reached her, she was knocked unconscious. “Y/N! Come on, beautiful. You’re OK. You’re OK.”

But the words were to convince himself. He felt for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief when it was still strong.

Ever so carefully, he untied the ropes that held her to the chair. He ripped his jacket off his body and wrapped it around her shoulders. She seemed so small like this – so vulnerable. He’d tried so hard to keep her away from this darkness. And seeing her like this was the horrid reminder for why he’d lied to her about who he was.

His family watched with concern as Jason stood with her limp body in his arms. By some miracle, the blast missed all of them. It was used as more of a distraction than as an attempt to take any of them out.

Jason slowly walked to Bruce.

“Take her. Please.” His eyes desperate at first, but then they darkened. “There’s something I have to do.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We had a deal.”

But he still gently took Y/N out of his arms.

“That was before her,” Jason answered as he took a final glance at Y/N.

“Jason, don’t do it,” Dick urged.

“Keep her safe,” was all Jason said before turning from them and running after the man that had put his love in danger.

“What shall we do with her?” Damian asked coldly as he eyed the young woman he was seeing for the first time.

“We’re taking her back to the manor,” Bruce told his sons.

“Is that wise?” Damian countered.

“He’ll need her. And she’ll need to know everything,” was all Bruce said as he started carrying Y/N to the batmobile.

————————

Y/N wasn’t awoken by people screaming from the streets below or the garbage truck coming too early to throw every neighbor’s trash can around at 5AM. She couldn’t hear the blasting of her window unit air conditioning.

No, instead she heard birds chirping outside and the wind rustling countless trees.

Did she even have a single tree on her block?

She squinted her eyes open and the night came rushing back to her.

Goons storming into her apartment, ripping her from her bed and throwing a bag over her head. Y/N just remembered thinking, “I’m just glad Jason wasn’t here. At least he’s safe.”

But Jason was far from safe. He was Red Hood: the infamous anti-hero that half of Gotham thought was a murderer and the other half swore he was just as much of a hero as the the other masked vigilantes.

How did she not see it sooner?

The random cuts and bruises. Constantly missing dates. Late-night texts when she had already fallen asleep. Always being exhausted when he was present.

But it was easy to ignore all of this because when they were together, things were good – no, things were amazing.

No man had ever made Y/N feel more seen and loved and appreciated. In fact, before him, Y/N had come to terms with being alone for the rest of her life. She made peace with it, had no problem with it.

But then Jason came stumbling into her life. And he didn’t accept Y/N being unloved the way she did. It was the thing that made him get over his own self-hatred and constant need to punish himself. If he wasn’t going to love Y/N for him, then he’d love Y/N because that’s what she deserved.

And Y/N felt that.

But he wasn’t who she thought he was. He had lied to her over and over again. When she was concerned over his injuries, he made up story after story. When she asked where he’d been after skipping a date, he used work as an excuse.

Did Y/N actually know Jason Todd at all?

Or had she only seen what she wanted to see?

Did the man she love even exist?

These were the questions racing through Y/N’s mind as she awoke in a bedroom that she didn’t recognize. Bedroom – if that’s even what she could call it. It felt more like a palace. She’d never slept on softer sheets or a comfier mattress. The room was bigger than her entire apartment. And from what she could see in the ensuite bathroom, it looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

Y/N’s observations paused when she saw Red Hood’s leather jacket tossed on top of the fancy chaise lounge on the other side of the room. No, not Red Hood’s leather jacket. Jason’s. It was the only indication that he had been there.

Am I in Wayne Manor? Y/N asked herself.

At least Jason hadn’t lied about that, explaining his afflicted relationship with his family casually a few times. But in a way that always told Y/N he didn’t want to talk about it in depth.

The leather jacket then caused Y/N to look down at herself. She was wearing a white t-shirt and grey cotton sleep shorts. Clearly they were mens. Someone had changed her while she had been asleep – or…unconscious.

Fuck, her head really hurt.

Having enough of being confused, Y/N slipped out of the bed and decided she was going to hunt down an explanation.

The bedroom was placed in a long hallway. Taking a 50/50 chance, Y/N decided to go right instead of left.

She walked as quietly as possible, still feeling uncomfortable in such surroundings.

After she stepped down the most extravagant staircase she’d ever seen, she heard sounds come from around the corner. It sounded like movement in a kitchen.

When she reached a doorway, she saw an elderly man dressed as a butler. As he was cooking, he caught Y/N’s presence from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned and gave her a comforting smile.

“Ah! Ms. Y/L/N, your timing is impeccable. I was just finishing up breakfast.”

But she remained unsure of the situation.

“Oh, I do apologize. Where are my manners? I am Alfred Pennyworth.” He quickly stepped to her and offered his hand. “I am the butler for the Wayne family.”

“So…this is Wayne Manor?” Y/N asked after awkwardly shaking his hand in the doorway, completely forgetting to share her own name. But he cleary already knew it.

He smiled at her. “Yes, Master Wayne brought you here after last nights…theatrics.” Before either of them could discuss the “theatrics” he slyly mentioned, he pulled out a chair at the table in the kitchen. “Please, sit. You must be famished.”

This man hardly looked threatening, so she decided to follow his instructions.

Alfred quickly placed a large plate with a full English breakfast on it, a mug of steaming coffee, and a glass of water. Then he offered her a bottle of advil.

Y/N looked up at him with a curious glance.

“I can only assume your head is aching quite a bit. From what I was told, you took quite the fall from the explosion.”

At least Y/N knew she hadn’t imagined the nightmare. It was real. She quickly took two of the pills and chugged the glass of water.

Alfred didn’t hover, instead continuing to work on more breakfast.

But Y/N’s breakfast was quickly interrupted when Bruce Wayne walked into the kitchen.

He eyed her carefully, hiding his surprise at her being awake. Casually, he went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked her.

Y/N was surprised how genuine his concern sounded.

“Confused,” she blustered out without meaning to.

Bruce smirked. “I meant your head.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Ummm…just a terrible headache. But I think I’ll live.”

“Good.”

To her shock, Bruce sat across from her. He drank his coffee as his eyes raced across the tablet in his hand.

Y/N took a few bites of food before she had the courage to ask one of the many questions that were racing around her head.

“Where is Jason?” She asked slowly and carefully.

Alfred seemed to tense at the question and hesitated before saying, “Master Jason thought it best to give you some space.”

Y/N didn’t know what to make of his answer.

Bruce seemed to be studying her.

Y/N wanted to shrink under his scrutiny, but fought the feeling and met his gaze head on, as if challenging him.

“He’s in the cave,” Bruce told her evenly.

It seemed no one was trying to hide their family secrets from Y/N.

“I’d like to see him.”

Bruce and Alfred shared a look and what seemed to be a silent conversation.

After a moment, Bruce stood up. “I’ll take you.”

Y/N jumped out of her seat to follow him.

Next thing she knew, Bruce was taking her through a secret passage and there was a dark and dreary staircase in front of her.

Bruce gestured for her to go forward, silently telling her he wasn’t coming with.

As soon as Y/N started down the cold staircase, a shiver went down her spin. The temperature immediately dropped.

When she reached the bottom, she looked around and found Jason sparring with a man she recognized as Dick Grayson.

Jason did a double take as soon as Y/N took a step away from the staircase.

Dick followed his gaze and his face dropped.

The two men shared a look and their sparring ended.

Dick walked to her and gave Y/N a charming smile as he held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Dick.”

Y/N forced a shy smirk and shook his hand, but said nothing.

Now it was just Jason and Y/N.

Y/N’s arms tightly held herself because of the freezing temperature of the batcave, and because she didn’t know how this conversation was about to end.

“Hi,” Jason said awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“How’d you get down here?”

Y/N shrugged. “Bruce.”

Jason looked her up and down before quickly turning and grabbing the sweatshirt he had discarded before working out and sparring.

He handed it to her, making sure not to get too close. “Here. It gets fucking frigid in this stupid cave.”

Y/N quickly put it on. But she didn’t miss how Jason tried to keep his distance.

“I’m not scared of you,” she muttered.

He cocked an eyebrow, but she could still see the hurt in his face. “Really? Because you’re not looking at me like I’m the same person.”

“Because you’re not,” Y/N snapped.

Y/N imagined this conversation would be filled with rage. She thought she’d start yelling at Jason and then she wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d tell him how disappointed she was in him, how he was just like every other man who had hurt her. Her hands would be quivering in fists at her side. The anger…it would consume her.

So imagine her surprise when her bottom lip started trembling and tears started streaming down her face. And she could do nothing to stop it.

Little did she know that watching this hurt Jason more than her anger ever could.

He took a step toward her. It was his instinct – an instinct that was so hard to fight in this moment.

“You know…it’s really hard for me to let people in – no, it’s hard for me to let men in. I don’t trust them. I stop doing that a long time ago. But you – fuck – I don’t even know why now. But I did let you in. I really did. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. I trusted you. I…I loved you, Jason.”

Jason looked in more pain than ever before. His eyes watered from seeing the woman he loved breaking down like this. And it was no one else’s fault, but his own.

“But you hid this whole part of yourself. You lied to me. Every excuse you made for your bruises and cuts, you were lying. Every time you canceled a date, you were lying. And I’m realizing that you lied to me about your life more than you ever told me the truth.”

She tried to wipe away the tears, but they were coming down too fast.

“Was the Riddler serious?” She accused. “Have you killed all those people?”

“I have.”

Y/N studied him for a second. A part of her hadn’t expected him to admit it. She was waiting for him to give her another lie. After all, it came so naturally to him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She practically whimpered.

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I just…I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

Was there even anything he could say that would make her hate him less?

Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. And I should’ve kept you safe. You almost–” He felt sick. “You were almost killed last night. And it was because of me.”

Y/N’s eyes went dark. “Did you kill him? Did you kill the Riddler?”

Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands turned into fists at the mentioning of the criminal’s name. “No, but I should’ve.”

In truth, he almost had. It hadn’t been hard to catch up to the bastard. Jason beat him to in an inch of his death. But not before he confirmed that no one else knew of Y/N’s existence. No, he didn’t kill the Riddler. But he beat him so badly that he would be in the coma for the rest of his days – unable to speak, meaning no one else would ever know about Y/N.

“I don’t do that anymore. Bruce and I…we have a deal.”

“He’s Batman,” she wasn’t asking. “And your brothers…” she didn’t need to finish.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His head hung low. “I don’t deserve it. And I never deserved you in the first place. I always knew that. It’s probably why it was so hard to tell you. Because I knew the moment I did… you’d see me for the monster I really am.”

Y/N’s eyes were red now and her nose congested.

“You don’t owe me anything. But I just…I need to tell you this before I never see you again,” Jason quickly said, sensing this was their final goodbye. “I love you. I didn’t even think I could love someone the way I love you, Y/N. You…you’ve made me better. And you’re probably the only reason I was able to stop myself from killing that son of a bitch last night.”

It was Y/N’s face Jason saw when he was beating the Riddler. And then he realized, in some twisted way, that such a death would also be on her hands. He could handle having blood on his hands forever. But would never do that to Y/N.

Then Jason’s word turned so, so quiet. “But I also know I can’t ask you to stay after everything I’ve done to you.”

And for a moment, the two of them just stared at one another.

Y/N tried to wipe the last of her tears away once again. “I think I should go,” she mumbled.

“You can’t go back to your apartment. It’s not safe there anymore. Bruce offered to let you stay here for as long as necessary. I’ll leave,” he quickly added. “So you don’t have to worry about being around me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not staying here,” she said with a surprising amount of conviction. “I’ll stay with friends or something. But I don’t want to be here.”

What Y/N meant was that she didn’t want to be surrounded by the secrets Jason had kept from her. She didn’t want to be reminded of how little she actually knew him.

Somehow Jason seemed to realize that.

He took a cautious step toward her. “For what it’s worth, you do know me. I know you think that’s a lie. But no one sees me like you see me, Y/N. No one.” He pointed up. “Not even the fucked up people that call me their family.”

His words struck in a way she wasn’t expecting. But she made sure he didn’t know that and controlled her expression, staying as emotionless as possible.

Jason sighed, knowing this was their end. “Alfred will take you anywhere you want to go.”

He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to ask – no, to beg – to hold her. Just one last time. But he would never ask that of her. How could he?

So he just watched as Y/N slowly turned and made her way back of the stairs.

Jason wanted to memorize her face as if this was the last time he’d lay eyes on her. But he knew himself better than that. He’d make sure she was safe, add her to his patrol as if it was normal addition to his vigilante life. Y/N didn’t deserve to be at risk for the rest of her life because she made the mistake of loving a man like him.

————————

1 MONTH LATER.

————————

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be. She thought she could just go back to the life she had before Jason ever fought his way into her heart. But it took her a month to understand that was never going to happen. She’d never be able to just forget him.

She thought anger would take over and make her hate Jason. Hate was always easier than love. And Y/N was banking on that.

But after everything Jason did, Y/N still couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him.

Because, at the end of the day, they still loved each other.

Despite his secrets and his lies, Y/N knew that Jason had been telling the truth about his feelings for her. He really did love her. She had felt it every day. Even at the beginning of their relationship – before they realized what they were feeling was love – Y/N always felt how much Jason cared for her.

That was why all of this was so hard for her.

Take away the lies, the secret vigilante life, the killing. Take it all away. And Y/N knew she had never met another man that made her feel the way Jason did – or…had.

That was really what Y/N had finally realized over the past weeks. She had thought it was betrayal and fear.

No.

She now understood that what she was feeling was a broken heart.

It was a first for her. One had to be in love in order to get their heart broken. And the only man Y/N ever loved was Jason Todd.

As the understanding washed over Y/N, she was staring out the window. She’d made herself a cup of coffee, but had been so lost in her thoughts that she’d let it grow cold. Then she felt a tickling down her cheek and realized that she had started crying.

Suddenly there was a quick knock at the front door of her apartment.

Y/N squinted in suspicion at the sound and sloppily rubbed the tears off her face.

She slowly walked to door, but stopped a few feet away, and just stared at it as her heart rate increased.

After Riddler’s men broke into her home and ripped her from bed, she had been anxious and cautious about any and all unexpected visitors. She hadn’t been sleeping. Either she couldn’t fall asleep or if she did, her night was infested with nightmares.

“Y/N? It’s Dick Grayson,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

She let out a small sigh of relief. How long had she been holding her breath?

There was a part of her that was screaming to still ignore the uninvited guest, despite it being someone she knew. But how well did she actually know Dick Grayson?

Except the other part – the part that could admit she missed Jason – wanted to speak to anyone that was from the part of her life she was trying so hard to forget.

Ever so slowly, she opened the door.

“Hi,” Dick beamed at seeing her appear. His smile and eyes were warm and friendly in a way that none of the other boys were.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked with a bit of rudeness.

She didn’t appreciate him giving her a scare. Especially because her two best friends that she now lived with were out of town for the weekend.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” he gave her a shy but hopeful grin. Then he held up a tray of coffee and a paper baggie. “I brought you a latte and some doughnuts.”

Y/N eyed him. Her first thought was that maybe something had happened to Jason. But Dick’s delivery proved that wasn’t the case.

Her only invitation to Dick was a widening of the door and making room for him to walk past her.

This seemed to make him happy though.

Y/N directed them to the little breakfast nook that was flooded in the morning light.

She didn’t waste any time. “Did Jason send you here?”

“No, Jason doesn’t know that I’m here,” Dick clarified as he slid one of the lattes to her side of the table.

Her nerves were the only reason she picked it up and started sipping, just trying to give herself something physical to do while Dick stared at her from across the little table.

“Is he OK?” She mumbled without looking at him.

Her pride wanted to her to shut up and not ask. But she couldn’t stop the question from spilling out, even though all evidence pointed to Dick having no bad news to share.

“He’s fine,” Dick quickly assured her. “Well…physically, at least.”

“What are you doing here, Dick?” She repeated her original question.

“It should be Bruce here, really. But he…” His words died out and then he cleared his throat. “Well, these types of things aren’t exactly his strong suit. Tim wanted to come, too. But I didn’t want to…overwhelm you.”

“And what ‘type’ of thing is this exactly?”

Dick took in a deep breath and then leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

“You deserve to know the story – the whole story. I’m not here to get you to forgive Jason or to change your mind about leaving him.” He rubbed his face. “But I just want you to know the truth about him before you live with those decisions.”

Y/N’s heart was racing now. She felt sick.

Was she even ready for this conversation?

“So, is that OK?” Dick asked her carefully.

After a moment, Y/N finally nodded her head.

Dick took a deep breath.

He knew where he needed to start. And he wasn’t just about to share Jason’s secrets, he was about to tell Y/N all of their secrets. But it was what needed to be done.

Dick told her about Jason living on the streets, how his dad abused him, and his mother was a drug addict that couldn’t protect her son. Little Jason Todd turned to crime to take care of himself and get enough money to take care of himself and his mom.

Dick smiled as he told her how Jason tried to steel Bruce’s wheels on the batmobile. That was the moment that Bruce knew he couldn’t leave such a desperate child on the streets. Then everything happened so quickly. Next thing Dick knew, Jason had replaced him as Robin and Bruce had a new sidekick.

“I should’ve been there for him more,” Dick confessed. “Jason didn’t just need a home and a parent… he needed a brother, too. And I take responsibility for not really being there for him. If I’m being honest, I was bitter. It was hard for me to see how quickly Bruce could just…”

“Replace you?” Y/N offered softly.

Dick swallowed and nodded.

This was the hard part. Now he had to explain how Jason died, how the Joker tricked a child who was desperate to find the truth about his mother. How a dead boy became a resurrected man.

Dick knew he couldn’t gloss over the gory details. Jason deserved better. He didn’t need to have his secrets protected from the first woman who loved him. He needed to be seen and still loved.

Dick watched as Y/N shifted in her seat, trying her best to compose herself as Dick told her about Jason dying so horribly and then being resurrected. Joker’s maniacal laugh flashed in Y/N’s mind. As Dick spoke, she could almost feel the warmth of the explosion that he’d set for Jason.

It was all so terrible.

How Jason was able to overcome it all left Y/N in awe of him.

“Jason has never really fully been himself since before…everything,” Dick said. “But it wasn’t fair that any of us ever expected that after what happened to him. I know there’s still so much that he’s never told any of us. And I’m not sure he ever will.”

Dick explained Jason’s rebellion from the family and his war with Bruce. Dick was the one that got emotional now, as his eyes glossed over, remembering how angry and ruthless Jason had been.

“Bruce has one rule: no killing.” Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “Jason thought he was being what Gotham needed. He was tired of watching criminal after criminal beat the system and repeatedly get set free. We eventually had to make a deal with him. We couldn’t stand by and let him continue on the way he was.”

Dick gave her a nervous look. “I can only assume that the hardest thing to wrap your mind around is the–”

“Killing,” Y/N quickly interrupted harshly.

Until now, she had remained quiet but engaged. Never interrupting or adding unnecessary responses.

“Yes,” Dick replied before tightening his jaw.

Y/N couldn’t look at him now. “I know–” She had to pause because her voice was shaking so much. “I know he did it to protect people. And I know – in his mind – that they deserved it, because they were bad people.”

“I might not agree with Jason’s views or his past actions. But one thing is for sure: Jason Todd has never killed an innocent.”

“I just don’t know if that’s enough,” Y/N said with teary eyes.

“I understand,” Dick nodded.

There had been a part of her that always knew Jason was fighting demons. But she could’ve never guessed how bad it had truly been for him.

How could he hide all of this from her?

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. After hearing Jason’s life story, how could she? Tears silently ran down her face. She wasn’t embarrassed to cry in front of Dick. He had such a calming presence about him.

Dick just let her consume everything he’d spent the past hour telling her. He just wanted to be there for her as she processed it.

So he sat there and let her cry. And eventually she got a hold of herself.

“You’re forgetting the most important part of this story,” Dick told her with a shy smile.

“I am?”

Dick nodded. “You.”

She scoffed at that.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” Dick leaned forward again.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t one to share her emotions and feelings freely. So she wasn’t about to open up to her ex’s older brother, whom she hardly knew.

“He loves you, Y/N.” Dick insisted.

“None of you even knew about me,” Y/N tried to argue.

“That’s not true. Just because he didn’t tell us directly doesn’t mean we didn’t know about you.” Dick smirked. “We’re a nosey bunch. When we noticed a change in him – a good change – we did a little investigating.”

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to tell Dick that Jason made her change for the better too.

So she changed the subject to what was really stopping her from running back into Jason’s arms despite all the lies and secrets.

“How did you get over it?” Her voice was so quite that it was almost a whisper.

“Get over what?” Dick squinted.

“The killing.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Police Officers kill people every day.”

Y/N made a look of disgust. “Law enforcement in this country is corrupt. I figured a man who felt the need to wear a mask and become a vigilante was well aware of that.”

Dick winced. “Why do you think Gotham is so hard to clean up?”

She stayed quiet.

“Soldiers have killed more people on a single tour than Jason has,” Dick continued.

“Soldiers are following orders,” Y/N countered. “Orders from authority whose ethics and motives are often questionable.”

“Exactly.” Dick’s back straightened. “We’ve normalized both of those things. But I can assure you of one thing, Jason has no ulterior motives. There is no systemic prejudice that controls his actions. Just right and wrong, good and evil.”

Then he rubbed his face, wondering if he wanted to say the next part. “When things with Jason were bad – really bad – and I thought I would have to be the one that put him behind bars, the one thing that gave me hope was knowing that Jason had rid the world of evil. That doesn’t mean I condone his actions…but it helps me sleep at night.”

Silence filled the apartment. Y/N was still processing the information. And Dick didn’t want to force her to talk or speak just to fill the silence.

Slowly, Dick rose from his seat.

“I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have,” he told her gently.

There were those classic Wayne manners that both Bruce and Alfred had ingrained in him. It reminded Y/N of Jason. Even though Jason had a dark, sarcastic sense of humor and quite the temper, Y/N couldn’t remember a time when the man didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ – not to mention all the old-school gentlemanly gestures that always caught her off guard.

Y/N followed Dick to the door.

He hesitated. “Thank you for listening, Y/N.”

She just nodded.

“Like I said when I got here, I’m not telling you what to do. All I ask is that you consider everything you learned.”

She nodded again. “You’re a good brother, Dick.”

He chuckled darkly at that. “Jason would disagree with you on that. I’m lucky if he even calls me his brother most of the time.”

Y/N managed to force a shy smirk on her lips for his benefit.

Then Dick was reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper. He slowly handed it over.

She looked down to see what appeared to be an address. “What’s this?”

“The safe house Jason’s been hiding out in since you last talked.” Then he gave her one final nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

————————————— 3 WEEKS LATER. —————————————

Jason had been on autopilot these past couple of months. He let his work take over his life. To make matters worse, he barely added eating and sleeping to that mix. The only reason he managed to get himself to eat was to keep his strength up… so he could keep working.

Right now was the one of the few times his exhaustion was so heavy that he managed to get a couple hours of sleep.

That is until one of the alarms for his safe house went off.

Someone had triggered the sensor for the floor.

It could easily be a homeless person. It wouldn’t be the first time. But that assumption went on the window when Jason heard a polite knock at his front door.

Completely silent, Jason moved out of bed and grabbed the gun that sat on his nightstand.

Quickly he tiptoed to the door and waited, half expecting someone to start shooting. It wouldn’t have mattered, seeing as the door was made out of bulletproof steel.

Without making a sound, he made his way to the peephole.

When he spotted who was on the other side, his body moved on reflex alone. He instantly put the gun on safety and whipped open the door.

His guest jumped a little in surprise.

“Y/N,” Jason gasped.

Once she got over the scare, she seemed to take in his appearance.

Jason looked awful. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair looked greasy from the lack of washing. And because he was “working” so much, his body was littered in more injuries than usual. He stood completely shirtless in black boxer briefs.

But the only thing Jason was embarrassed about was his autopsy scar that was on full display for her.

Yes, Y/N had seen and felt it. But it was always in the cover of darkness. If they had sex in daylight, Jason always found a way to keep a shirt on. It was always effortless and subtle. Plus Y/N was so preoccupied with the passion between them that she never really considered how self-conscious he was about it.

Once again, Y/N was wondering why she normalized things like that instead of pushing Jason to open up about things he was obviously hiding.

She had assumed they were scars from his childhood. He had told her his dad was abusive and his mom did nothing to protect him. Y/N thought the scars were from an incident – an incident that was too traumatizing for him open up to her about.

But they were autopsy scars… Because Jason had died once.

“Did I wake you?” She asked him gently.

“No,” he quickly lied. Then he shook his head, still processing that she was standing in front of him. “Come in,” he hurriedly added.

She game him a grateful nod and walked past him.

Her eyes quickly took in the safe house. It looked like an industrial loft. But what she was really locking on to was the multiple tables covered in weapons and gear.

After all that time of Jason’s vigilante life being hidden, now it was all completely on display for her to see.

“Are you OK?” Jason quickly asked her.

She nodded.

“How is your new place?” He then asked.

“Fine,” she offered.

“Your roommates are OK?”

She nodded again.

“Are you sleeping alright?”

“Jason,” she said it sternly, in a tone that she knew would make him finally stop with the frantic questions. “I came to talk to you.”

This took him aback.

Then he looked around him. There was a fold out table a few feet away from them.

“Here,” he muttered before rushing forward and moving what appeared to be a dozen knives and multiple guns.

He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned for her to sit.

Then Jason seemed to finally realize his state of undress. “I’ll…just give me a second.”

Y/N would’ve laughed at his adorable franticness. But she was too busy feeling nauseous and anxious.

She turned her back to him changing since the loft style gave little privacy. 30 seconds later, Jason was moving back to the table and sitting across from her in a black hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N gently cleared her throat. Her gaze couldn’t meet Jason’s as she said, “Dick came to see me.”

Jason’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. I’ll ta–”

“No, it’s fine.” Then she shifted in her seat. “He came to…uhh…he came to talk to me about you, actually.”

That wasn’t what Jason was expecting.

“He told me everything,” she stated. “I mean, everything you never did.”

The true meaning of her words slowly washed over Jason.

He leaned back in his chair, his massive form making it squeak.

Y/N took in a shaky breath. “Jason…I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He shifted his weight.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” He told her quietly.

Usually Jason’s death and resurrection was a joke. He loved making his family cringe, shrink, and become uncomfortable with his dark humor about it. That was just how he’d grown to deal with it all.

But he couldn’t do the same for Y/N.

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“I miss you,” Y/N finally told him.

Jason’s eyes widened at the confession. “I miss you, too.”

Silence again.

“Was I just part of a cover?” She quickly asked him.

“No,” he immediately answered.

“Was our relationship even real?”

“Yes, Y/N. I promise you that it was.”

Y/N bit her lip. She came here with no plan. And now it was starting to feel very real. She knew what she needed to know and she knew what she needed to say. But she wasn’t sure how to get there.

“Do you still love me?” She whispered.

Jason flinched at the question – not because of the answer, but because she felt the need to even ask it.

He nodded.

“After everything that’s happened,” she began, “what would a relationship between us even be, Jason?”

This was not the follow-up question he was expecting.

“What do you want it to be?”

But what he really wanted to say was it could be anything she wanted. He would do absolutely anything to get her back. Anything.

Still, he didn’t want to push her. So he let her take the lead.

“No more lies,” Y/N demanded. Jason opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I know you can’t tell me the details of the nightly occurrences from your…other life.”

“It was to keep you safe,” he tried to explain. “The less you know, the safer you are. No one can try to use you for information.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I’m saying no more lies about where you are or why you can’t make something. And no more hiding injuries.”

Jason nodded firmly, trying to mask his eagerness.

“But more importantly…No more lies about your past. Dick may have told me everything he knew. But I know there’s missing parts and it’s only his perspective.” Then she hesitated, “And I’d…I’d like to hear it from you.”

Jason felt sick by the idea. He thought maybe he’d gotten out of such a request because of his nosey brother.

“You might not like what you find…” he warned her.

But Y/N was already shaking her head. “You know me inside and out.”

Jason did a weird half shrug, half nod. “I like to think so.”

“Don’t you think I deserve the same?”

Jason knew he had a point. But he loved everything about her. Y/N’s flaws weren’t even flaws to him. They were just what made her the woman she was. And that so happened to a woman he was deeply in love with.

But his sins? They were what convinced him that he was unlovable – a monster.

“You do,” Jason agreed with a mumble.

Y/N struggled to swallow with how dry her throat had suddenly become. “You had made a deal with your family – a deal you almost broke because of me.”

Jason knew what she was really asking. She didn’t even really know what she wanted.

“You want to know about the people I’ve killed,” he said low and even.

But she didn’t answer.

Jason leaned forward on the table and thought over her request. He rubbed the scruff on his jawline and chin.

“One was a man who was trying to rip down the pants of 5 year old girl in an alley of the Narrows.” His expression and tone was numb as he started listing them. “Another was an abusive husband that pushed his pregnant wife down a flight of stairs, causing her to have a miscarriage and almost die.”

Y/N felt sick as she listened.

“The last person I killed was Gotham’s number one human trafficker. When I asked him – with a gun to his head – how he had such a lack of remorse, he said, ‘These sickos are going to find their fun one place or another, I might as well make a buck off it.’”

Y/N could tell as Jason shared these stories that he felt no remorse for his executions.

“Bruce would tell you that every one deserves a chance to change. Or he’ll tell you that we’re not the law, we’re just enforcing it.” Jason shook his head. “But I’ve seen thousands of rapists, murderers, and – god knows what else – get freed time and time again. They may get locked up for a bit, but most of them find their way back on the streets. The system is broken. I know it. You know it. And Bruce knows it.”

Then his eyes darkened. “And before you ask, I wouldn’t take any of it back. Truthfully, I believe the world is a better place without those fuckers in it.”

As harsh as it sounded, Y/N appreciated the honesty. And perhaps there was a part of her that agreed with him.

Jason was right: she did know the system was broken, just as much as he did. But she wasn’t in a position to execute the same justice as he could.

“Can I ask you something in return?” The softness in his voice surprised Y/N.

She nodded her head.

“That morning at the manor…you said you weren’t scared of me.” He paused. “Were you telling the truth?”

“I wasn’t scared of you – at least, not like you’re implying. I felt–” She searched for the right word. “Defenseless. Because you knew me, but I didn’t know you anymore. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. “And what about now? After knowing all I’ve done.”

To his surprise, Y/N reached across the table and gently grabbed one his hands. She held it in her grasp, tracing the lines in his palm. The skin was rough and scarred.

After so long without it, the feeling of her touch caused a shiver to go down Jason’s spine.

Y/N knew these hands had killed dozens of people. But she also knew that they’d been nothing but gentle with her.

“You’ve never hurt me, Jason.”

“I never would,” he answered quietly, almost with a certain desperation.

She nodded, already knowing that.

“No matter what happens with us, I don’t ever want you to be scared of me, Y/N.”

Then she was crying and jumped from her seat. Without even thinking, she was on the other side of the table, throwing herself onto Jason’s lap, and wrapping her arms around him. Jason pulled her even tighter to him, cradling her face to his neck.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just…I just want you back. OK?”

Y/N pulled away and Jason wiped the tears from her cheeks. She nodded and gave him a teary smile, “OK.”

Their relationship wouldn’t mend itself just like that. They were going to have to work at it. But with all their secrets on the table, they knew what they were fighting. And from now on, they were going to face them together.

----------------

Yeesh. That one was a lot.

Let me know what you think!

(If you have criticisms about how I wrote Jason, I’d love to hear them, just don’t be a fucking asshole about it. There’s a right way to give feedback and there’s definitely a wrong way.)

#jason todd #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batfam #batman fandom #batman fic

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