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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years ago

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Pink Scarf - Part 20 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: SEXXXXXXXX. Dom/sub stuff. Angst (as always). Fluff (finally)? Medication/drug use/overdose mentions. Dub con mentions(sort of?). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 15.2k (CUZ Y'ALL DESERVE IT)

A/N: 🎶And now, the end is near/And so I face the final curtain🎶

Babies, we are at the end. I don't know what to say other than thank you all so very much, thank you for you patience, and I'm gonna miss the hell out of Reader and Elvis and their stupid, mutual pining asses. (I'm not crying, you are!) 😭 Oh, and I highly recommend listening to Without Love (I Have Nothing) (1969) before reading the middle section here. I've included the first takes to the final master version because the first takes are stripped down & give more of the intimate feel I was getting at, but the final master is excellent, so I wanted to give you listening options! It'll really give you an idea of what the moment feels and sounds like! (I'm such a nerd, I know. Also, only Elvis could nail a song like this in a few takes, lord have mercy.)

I will write a short Epilogue sometime soon, so stay tuned! Also, I am very seriously thinking about publishing a physical book of Pink Scarf (and a Kindle version, too) BUT ONLY IF people are wanting and willing to buy it! It would likely include new bonus chapters/material. Please let me know in the comments, asks, or DMs if this is something you want! Like I said, I don't wanna do it if no one wants it, so let me know!

I sincerely hope y'all will stick around for my next projects as I try to get my writing career off the ground. Y'all are the OG's and the best fans a girl could ask for! 💗

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

Finally, I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY! I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

Stop her, stop her, stop her…

The words echo in his head, but Elvis is frozen to the spot, watching your back as you walk out the door and possibly out of his life, feeling so raw he fears his heart might liquify and pour out of his mouth. The way you look so angry, more angry than he’s ever seen you, and so disappointed in him—it breaks his goddamn heart. Your vitriol paralyzes him, drying up the words that he can’t seem to tell you.

But he’s done it all for you, every stupid decision he made, he did in the name of love—and of keeping you safe and keeping you sane (you fuckin’ liar, you know that ain’t true, he lambasts himself).

“You screwed with our lives because you could. You and your fucking egomaniacal, insane, manipulative bullshit…” Your words cut like daggers into his skin. He wants those words to be utterly untrue, outright lies, but he knows—he knows—that you are not entirely off base.

And perhaps that’s been the problem all along: he doesn’t truly believe he deserves you. For all the reasons you spit at him and for the fact that he has ruined you in more ways than one.

But the one crucial thing you are dead wrong about is that he didn’t care, that he’d just fucked you and wanted to pretend it never happened. He may be many of the things you said—egotistical, manipulative, stupid for lying to you—but he loves you, more than he has ever been able to express.

If anything, he’s cared too much.

But you are convinced of the opposite and, stupidly, he didn’t tell you any different.

This is the thing that finally gets him moving. His heart thrums in his chest as he races out the door, desperate to catch up to you. He looks around frantically for you, barely processing the confused and pitied looks of the men around him and flies out the main door of the penthouse suite.

“Y/n!” he shouts, hoping he can salvage this because he needs you more than he needs air to breathe.

I love you, I love you, I love you! screams in his mind but not out of his mouth, for reasons he can’t entirely explain. He arrives in the hallway just in time to see the elevator doors close behind you.

He’s too late.

“Fuck!!” he screams, and without thinking turns and plunges his fist into the wall. Plaster and paint flake around the new divot and burning pain radiates up his arm.

He nearly collapses from the way his heart tears in two, the gravity of the situation hitting him all at once. He’s barely slept in days, what with taking care of you in the hospital, being wracked with worry, and then having to come back and give high quality performances as if life was normal. His heart is beating too fast and his limbs feel weak.

Suddenly, everything feels much too heavy.

His legs threaten to give way and he leans against the wall, furious at you for making him feel these things. But he is more furious at himself.

You didn’t even say you were sorry, you stupid fucker, a little voice berates him.

I have nothing to be sorry for, the stubborn part of him, the one driven by his ego, replies.

The inner voice laughs sardonically. You have everything to be sorry for.

“EP!” he hears Jerry’s alarmed voice from far away. But he’s beyond caring.

I’ve lost her, is all he can think as his vision blurs and narrows, After all this, I’ve still lost her.

Jerry rushes to his side, but the despair and fury within Elvis drives him back into the penthouse, causing destruction along the way. He barely registers tearing the rest of his room apart, only knowing that he needs some outlet, some release of these horrible feelings trapped inside of him. To purge himself of the fact that even with all he tried to do to prevent it, his worst fears had still come to pass. Distantly, he’s aware of the breaking glass and the ripping of fabric and the roaring sound coming from his mouth, but everything is unfocused and red in his mind.

Elvis does this until finally his body gives out and he collapses on the bed. As he comes back into himself, his heart is beating so hard and so fast that he’s actually a little afraid he will give himself a heart attack. Trying to steady his breathing, he looks up, and seeing himself in the mirror above the bed, he hardly recognizes the man lying there.

Self-pity descends rapidly. There’s no way she’ll ever love me after this. How could she?

Early in his life, he’d thought June had been his last hope of ever having a woman love him for who he truly is, stripped of fame, warts and all, but he’s long since realized that you are that woman. You are his last chance at having that kind of true love in his life. And now those dreams are dying right in front of him because of his own stupidity.

I’ll always be alone.

And with that thought, he closes his eyes and wishes he were anyone else but Elvis Presley.

The commotion outside his bedroom door has Elvis lifting his chin expectantly yet not hopefully. He’s spent the last three hours faking his way through his midnight show trying to push the horrified and angry look on your face out of his mind. Trying to forget that he let you walk out his door.

Needless to say, it wasn’t his best show, though bellowing out his feelings through the music was cathartic in its own way.

He’s not sure why he had frozen like he did. It certainly wasn’t like him to cow-tow in the midst of a fight, but he had promised himself in the hospital that he’d be gentler with you. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing you so completely furious. Maybe it was that you’d finally remembered what happened after so many years, unearthing his deepest, darkest secrets and mirroring them back to him in the worst of ways. Or maybe it was that so many of your words rang with truth, even though you’d misunderstood the core reasons behind his actions.

Either way, he feels like his heart was ripped out of his chest. Part of him yearns to do more self-destructive things, but instead he sits still on the edge of his giant bed, the one you should be in right now, trying to understand just how completely he managed to screw this up.

“Fuck you, Elvis Presley. It would’ve changed everything.”

Your words ring through his head again and again, like a broken record. What did you mean by that exactly? Because the crushed look on your face when you said it made it seem like you had feelings for him back then that if realized would’ve changed your relationship, and that sends a wave of heartache through him so strong that he feels like he might vomit.

“Jerry, I swear to God, if you don’t let me in there, you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future!” He hears Sandy’s voice through the door and closes his eyes, trying to prepare himself for what he thinks is coming.

The door bursts open and he opens his eyes to see Sandy storm in, Jerry looking incredibly apologetic and a bit mortified that he was unable (or unwilling) to stop his wife.

Elvis waves Jerry off. He knows he can’t stop the onslaught. Jerry raises his eyebrows in an, “Are you sure?” way, and Elvis sends him out with a look.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Presley,” Sandy seethes, pointing at him once the door is closed behind her.

“Nice to see you, too, Sandra,” he responds wearily.

“Oh, don’t you ‘Sandra’ me,” she spits, then looks him over carefully, as if really seeing him. She surveys the disaster of the room, which he had completely torn to shreds after you left, then looks back at him. “You look like shit,” she adds matter-of-factly, almost as if she’s glad of it.

He can’t help shooting her a withering glare, but Sandy’s blood is up and does not falter under his gaze like most would.

“How is she?” he finally asks, dreading the answer.

“Well, let’s see…in the last three days her husband beat her up, her life imploded, and she just found out that her lover has been hiding some pretty crucial shit from her for over a decade. She sobbed for two hours straight and has been near catatonic since, so she’s just peachy, Elvis,” Sandy says sarcastically.

“Watch your tone, Sandra,” he warns, feeling his temper threaten.

“No, I don’t think I will, Elvis. Not when y/n is absolutely miserable and you are sitting up here doing nothing about it,” Sandy shoots back.

“This ain’t none of your business,” he says, vexed, standing and pointing a ring-clad finger at her. He likes Sandy, but he sure as hell doesn’t like her calling him out like this, not when he’s already been beating himself up about it.

Sandy laughs wickedly, “You made it my business the moment you let her tell me and started using me as cover for your lies.”

He can’t argue with that. Deflated, he runs his hand over his face. He is utterly miserable.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sandy says, and this time, her voice is quieter, gentler. “How could you keep something like that a secret for this long?”

He doesn’t want to say and certainly doesn’t want to appear vulnerable, but the ache in him is so bad, he can’t hide it. And he knows for a fact Sandy won’t let this go. Finally, he relents.

“I-I-I was trying to protect her, to protect our friendship… I w-was terrified I’d hurt her, that I’d…taken her against her will, and I-I-I could barely live with myself. I couldn’t burden her with the enormity of what we’d done” he says.

“And what about pushing her and Jack together, all the interfering? How exactly does that line up, E?” Sandy asks pointedly.

Elvis clears his throat and looks down. That is not something he is proud of. He wants to say he didn’t mean for it to go that way, but it would be a lie.

“It wasn’t like that, not at first. By the time I realized how I really felt about her, Jack had already swooped in and asked her out. I had nothin’ to do with it,” he says defensively.

Sandy crosses her arms, not accepting that and waits for him to continue.

“Well, then…then I-I realized she’d be better off with a man who could give her the stability and the family she wanted. I couldn’t be there for her, not the way she deserved. My career was just takin’ off and I—well, hell, it didn’t even matter until that day at Graceland, and I was ready to throw it all out the window when I’d thought she felt the same way about me that I felt for her, but-but then she…the overdose, she didn’t even remember…How was I supposed to explain that to her, Sandra? How? How was I gonna look her in the eyes and tell her she came on to me and we made love on the floor and that it completely changed everything? Who was gonna believe that? You know as well as I that it would’ve ruined her!” he says, his heart pounding, voice quavering, and his blood up.

Sandy looks at him carefully. “You were afraid she didn’t feel the same way. And that she doesn’t now,” she states, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

His head snaps up to look at her, eyes wide and caught like a deer in headlights.

“I had to protect her. And I had to set her up so she’d always be taken care of. And if she was with Jack, I could do that for her, for them. They could be happy. I wanted them to be happy, I-I swear. I thought they’d be happy!” he yells, back off the rails, pacing the room like a caged tiger.“I-I-I could…w-w-well, if she wasn’t with me, at least with him I would always know she was okay, and I could see her and it wouldn’t be some random-ass man that I didn’t know or trust takin’ her away from me forever!”

Sandy stays quiet, her gaze intense and knowing, and just waits for him to continue.

“I-I-I needed her to still be in my life, Sandra. I didn’t know Jack would fall so deep into the hole that he’d throw everything away. I didn’t think he would ever, ever hurt her!”

The words of his confession ring out and then die. Silence sits heavy for a moment.

“Wow. I have to say, that’s some masterful denial there,” Sandy finally says harshly. “Did you really think it was gonna be good for their marriage to take him away for months at a time? To feed him women and drugs and then be like, ‘Ooops! I didn’t know! It’s not my fault!’? Really?” she adds cuttingly, but steadily.

She’s right and he knows it. And she’s pushing him to admit the one thing he’s not sure he can.

He wants to get angry. He wants to scream and throw her out for her audacity. Instead, he just feels a rock in the pit of his stomach, realizing the truth of what she’s getting at:

That he’d knowingly sabotaged your marriage and then, when it was really bad, he’d taken advantage of the situation.

“You need to own up to what you did and apologize, and then you need to tell her what you’re so afraid of, Elvis. I can’t emphasize enough how much she needs to know that you love her,” Sandy continues with conviction.

His mouth pops open and then closes again, wordlessly, at hearing his feelings shared out loud so easily when he’s been harboring them alone for so many years. “You didn’t see how angry she was with me, how betrayed she looked…There’s no way she feels how I do, not after this,” he shakes his head.

Sandy rolls her eyes and mutters something unintelligible under her breath. “Listen, I have a pretty good idea how pissed and betrayed she’s feeling. And I’m not gonna speak for her, but…” she worries her lip a little, “you two of you really need to talk about how you truly feel about each other. Without all the other shit in the way.”

Something in the way she says it gives him hope.

“You need to fix this, Elvis.”

“I-I-I don’t think I can,” he states, defeated.

“Oh, please. We both know you can do anything when you want it bad enough,” she smiles slyly.

Once again, she’s right. “Why are you helping me?” he asks.

“Because I love her, too, and she deserves to be happy. She deserves the best,” she says knowingly, “That and this mess has everyone on pins and needles. We all just wanna fucking relax.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe he can salvage this. Just not right now. He is too exhausted and things feel too raw.

"Just...wait a little bit," Sandy adds carefully, as if reading his mind. “I think you both need a little breather.”

He nods.

“But don’t wait too long,” she says on her way out the door, her voice warning him of his worst fear: if he waits too long, he will lose her.

The door clicks shut behind her and silence falls once again. He glances at the bottles on the bedside table. As exhausted as he is, he’s still keyed up too much to sleep.

He doesn’t want to rely on the sleeping pills, in fact, he hadn’t needed them at all when you were in his bed, but his body craves them and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to resist at the moment. So, he pops a few down and waits for the drowsy effect to take hold of him.

When he closes his eyes, all he can see is you.

You are itching to play, yearning to feel the white and black ivories under your fingertips. It feels like it might be the only thing keeping you sane these past few days—this need to pour your entire heart into something beyond yourself.

Unfortunately for you, the only pianos you know of are in Elvis’ suite, on his stage, and in the rehearsal room. Two of those aren’t even options at this point. It’s bad enough that anywhere you go in the hotel, all you see is his visage, all you hear is his music feeding through the speakers. An ever-constant reminder of how stupid you are to have ever thought you’d be more to him than just a friend.

You can’t seem to escape him.

You are able, with little effort, to convince Sandy to talk Jerry into letting you into the rehearsal space. Both of them keep looking at you with kind yet sad eyes, as they’ve been witness to all your special humiliations these past few weeks. You suppose it’s good that you are not alone with this, but sometimes all you want is to scream bloody murder and get as far away as possible from Vegas, from Jack, from Elvis.

But you can’t go home, not right now. You learned that Elvis sent Jack back to Memphis to “get himself together” and that Red is his babysitter. But that means you can’t go back to Tennessee, not yet. You can’t face him with all this still up in the air.

So, you are stuck in the limbo that is Las Vegas. You have nothing of your own, no money, no way to get home even if you wanted to. You are exactly where you feared you would be: Alone and heartbroken and stuck.

You hadn’t counted on also being beat to hell, both physically and emotionally.

Which is why you are so desperate to get to a piano. It’s the only way you can get these awful feelings out of your system. You just need to lose yourself in music, in creating it.

But when Jerry lets you in to the large rehearsal space, you are not alone. Someone is already at the piano, their back to you, playing a mournful gospel-style ballad. Someone is already leaning into the keys and singing.

I awakened this morning, I was filled with despair All my dreams turned to ashes and gone, oh yeah

You frantically backpedal and look at Jerry in a panic, but he shakes his head only somewhat apologetically and will barely look you in the eyes as he closes the door, shutting you in with the very person you are trying to escape.

Damn him and Sandy both.

As I looked at my life it was barren and bare Without love I've had nothing at all

You lean your forehead against the door and close your eyes, not wanting to turn around and face him. Instead, you breathe shaking breaths and press your palms into the cool door in order

to not to let the intense waves of anger and sadness that are crashing over you drown you.

You’re not even sure that he knows you are here, his voice ricocheting and echoing throughout the large space. He sounds so consumed by the music that your presence may have gone unnoticed. You aren’t sure if you want him to know you are here or not, but either way, you are swept up into the music with him, your soul clamoring for any part of him despite your mind’s warnings.

Without love I've had nothing Without love I've had nothing at all I have conquered the world All but one thing did I have Without love I've had nothing at all

You don’t want to hear him, not at all (liar), but his melodic voice is hypnotizing, drawing you in with its rich baritone and crying tenor notes and possessed vibrato. And whatever headspace he is currently in has his voice sounding absolutely hauntingly beautiful. It makes you shiver. You are forced to listen, to hear the meaning behind the words.

Once I had a sweetheart who loved only me There was nothing, oh that she would not give, oh no

It's unfair, just how good his voice is at making you listen to it, more than just his words alone, making you hear his soul through the sound. You suppose that is his true talent: being able to pour emotion into a song in such a way that it transcends the music itself. With your eyes shut, it threads through your mind, simultaneously lulling you and making you want to weep. You know you are getting a window into his heart by listening, and it is telling you what you want to hear the most but are terrified to accept.

But I was blind to her goodness and I could not see That a heart without love cannot live

Oh god, oh god, oh god, your inner voice cries because you are suddenly and all at once bombarded with memories. His voice strips you bare, cutting through all the anger and fear and heartache, finally let yourself realize what your subconscious has been trying to tell you for a long time.

Echoes from both the near and distant past trigger inside your mind, your head aching with the residuals of the concussion. First, it’s your own voice, calling back to that moment on the lawn so many years ago, telling Elvis about how you knew Jack was the one: He’s there when I need him. He makes me feel special, like the only girl in the world. I know he’ll always take care of me. He is mine and I am his. Sometimes I almost feel like we were made for each other, ya’ know, like we were meant to be…

Without love I've had nothing Without love I've had nothing at all

Then, Elvis’ words flood your mind, flashing from one moment to the next:

“I just want you to be happy, baby. I wanna make you happy.”

“I take care of what’s mine.”

“You were made for me.”

“You belong here with me.”

“It’s meant to be…”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, making it hard to breathe. It’s like he’s been telling you all along, yet you’ve been too blinded by fear and guilt and the sheer impossibility of it all to truly see.

I have conquered the world All but one thing did I have Without love I've had nothing

At all

The final phrase is nearly a wail in the most beautiful of ways, the last run falling away and leaving a hollow silence in the room.

The memories come quickly now, a barrage of feelings and images: A boy backstage nervous as hell and his smile as you made him laugh. His eyes searching yours oh-so-closely in a diner booth as you tried to get over Ted. His melancholy the night you got engaged. Dancing, no, clinging onto you at the wedding before his world changed completely, and then again that mournful Christmas he’d returned, when you swore that Elvis wanted you more than anything in the world.

It’s the same way he looked when you climbed into his lap and rode him that fateful, forgotten day at Graceland.

His words from the other day, the ones that felt so possessive and manipulative take on different meaning as the puzzle pieces finally click into place, one by one:

“You are all I’ve been able to concentrate on, ya know that? You’re all I fuckin’ think about. I want you. I want you to be with me. Be with me.”

“Baby, you have me, you’ll always have me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”

“Let me take care of you. Let me be your everything.”

“I thought I told you, honey—I always get what I want, and I think I’ve made it quite fuckin’ clear who I want.”

“I need you.”

You are nearly brought to your knees with overwhelm, breathing too fast as you cling to the wall, anything, to ground you.

Then, like a freight train, it finally hits you, finally clicks, the thing he’s still hiding from you.

You suddenly remember the blanket of Elvis’ warmth surrounding you as you turned cold, bleeding out in his arms. The way his crystalline blues were terrified and beautiful and pleading. He rocked you in his arms, begging you not to leave him.

“No, no, no! Oh, God, don’t—please don’t go…”

Your heart stops. And you finally remember.

“…I-I love you, y/n, please, I love you.”

He’s loved you all along.

All of his cagey behavior, his deceit, the manipulations, it wasn’t to mess with you. It wasn’t because he didn’t care. It was because he loves you.

Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you turn around to face him. And as always, he’s right there, right where you need him.

“I…I…” is all you can manage to eek out.

He grabs your tear-stained cheeks in his big hands, his azure eyes deep and soulful, looking at you imploringly, and he whispers, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I love you more than anything in this life. I think I loved you the moment you steamrolled me in the hallway at school.”

Shock courses through you at hearing the words come out of his mouth, right here, in the present. You let out a choked, tearful laugh. It cuts through the anger you still feel and banishes your heartache, letting a swell of warmth overtake you. Despite all your feelings for him, you hadn’t even let yourself truly hope that he could feel the same way about you that you do about him. And to learn he’d felt this way for so long without your knowing…it feels inconceivable.

“I-I-I…and I’m so sorry, y/n.”

Elvis Presley doesn’t apologize. He buys obscenely lavish gifts. He skirts around the subject and gets really nice with those puppy dog eyes, but he doesn’t apologize, so this in itself floors you.

“I-I-I shoulda told you…but I thought…,” he steels himself against the emotions that are so obviously plaguing him before continuing, “that I’d taken advantage of you when you weren’t yourself, that I’d hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself, y/n. The guilt was eatin’ me alive and goddamn if I was gonna subject you to that pain. And I figured God wanted me to take on that burden for you, that there had to be a reason you didn’t remember. You wouldn’t have to face your betrayal of Jack or your regret for bein’ with me. I thought I was protectin’ you, protectin’ us.” He stops there, voice trembling, eyes open and honest, and you know then that while it had been wrong of him to hide this from you, he had truly believed that he was doing what was best for you. As mad as you are, part of you hurts for him because he’d gone through it all alone.

“I knew I couldn’t give you what you deserved, so I went meddlin’ in your life in the selfish need t’keep ya close to me, t’have some part of you as mine,” he rambles, racing through the words, utterly focused on getting out what he needs to say.

“I just needed you in my life. And I-I-I need you now. I needja more than anythin’,” he keeps going, his voice still shaking and the pads of his thumbs caressing your cheeks before trailing down your neck and your arms. You can feel them shaking, too, a sweaty heat emanating from them as he grabs your hands in his. His eyes are stormy and grey and deep with emotion, pulling you in, forcing you to accept his words.

He takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “It w-was wrong of me to-to sabotage what you had with Jack. And then to swoop in when you were vulnerable—it’s unforgivable. And if ya can’t forgive me…well, I-I’m gonna hafta understand. But I-I-I hope you do, that you can. I know I ain’t always a good man, y/n. I try to be, but bein’ with me—well, you already know it ain’t easy, the way my life is…” he trails off.

Part of you wants to interrupt him, to shout your love for him to the heavens, but frankly, his words have you speechless. And you know by his demeanor that he needs to get this out.

Tears pool in his eyes as he struggles to go on. “I know it’s been hard on you, all this. And if you can forgive me, if you wanna be with me, I promise I’ll do better t’make this work for ya. You make me a better man, y/n. You keep me on the ground, and God knows I need that more than anythin’,” he chuckles a little at that before his face drops into something much more serious.

“Come back to me, y/n. Please, come back to me. I love you,” he whispers, eyes imploring you. He is so used to demanding, but this he begs of you.

You are outwardly quiet, though your blood rushes in your ears. You want more than anything to concede to him with these revelations, to fall haplessly into his arms, and any other woman might. Honestly, you would have, just a few days ago, but Elvis cannot erase the harm he caused you with these welcome words or soulful singing or puppy dog eyes. You cannot escape the feelings of betrayal that have permeated through you these past few days.

“Elvis, I…I want to trust you again. I really do,” you finally get out, “because…because I love you, too. I think I have for a long, long time.”

Saying the words aloud lifts a weight from your shoulders, making you feel almost lightheaded. You were so scared to say them, to reveal this hidden part of you, and the way his face lights up in such a hopeful way, it almost makes you start crying again. He squeezes your hands so hard that it hurts. But you have more to say and can’t let this distract you.

“But my mind it—it made me forget. I don’t know exactly why or how. I think I was so afraid that I could never have you, that there was no way you’d ever in a million years have those kinds of feelings for me…I think I had to protect myself,” you explain.

An inner strength you didn’t know you had until this very moment allows you to keep going. You take a deep breath. “Elvis, I want to forgive you, and I want to be with you, I do. But I am exhausted. I am weary. And I am still angry at you, and at Jack, and at myself. I need a little time to figure out what my world is now, without the oppressiveness of Vegas pushing in on me.”

You look up at him, hoping he understands, hoping he is willing to give you what you so desperately need.

He blinks as if coming out of a trance, surprise and confusion and dismay playing out on his features so quickly. You know he expected something different from you, and as much as you want to give it to him immediately, you know you cannot.

“I need to leave Vegas, E. I need space. I want to forgive you, but I need to heal,” you say firmly, looking into his eyes, holding back the sob that wants to break through. You can only hope that he sees and hears the truth in you. “I can’t start a life with you like this, bruised and broken.”

He shakes his head, small at first and then in outright protest. “No, no, baby, please, I need you here. I love you,” he says with a mixture of frustration and pleading and hurt, grabbing your cheeks again.

Tears pool and fall freely now, but you stay resolute, grabbing his wrists. “No, right now you need to be Elvis Presley and finish this engagement strong. You need to show the world that you are back and to spread that joy of music and performing as only you can.”

“None of that matters, baby. No, I need to be with you. I’ll cancel the rest of the performances,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting you every step of the way.

“The hell you will, Elvis Aron Presley. That’s not what I want, not for me or for you,” you say fervently, pulling away to look at him, bringing your hands to his face this time. “You need this. Seeing you up there…you are more alive now than you’ve been in years. I know how much you love this and your fans—”

“I love you more,” he interrupts, and it both makes your heart soar and breaks it at the same time. You close your eyes briefly to center yourself before looking back at him.

“And I love you. But I need space, and you have to finish this. Once it’s done, once I’ve had time to heal and forgive, then you come back to me, you hear?” you say, unable to keep the emotion from your voice but keeping it resolute all the same.

You watch him struggle. You can see how young he looks all of a sudden and you know he’s afraid you’re abandoning him. You’re afraid, too, but if the two of you have made it this long, you can stand it a while longer. Ultimately, you know if you fall back into him now, you’ll always hold resentment and that will poison you both over time, and you can’t have that.

Elvis closes his eyes and nods once. “Okay,” he whispers, so quietly you can barely hear it. A lone tear streaks down his cheek.

“Okay,” you whisper back.

He kisses you then, so softly, so gently, that you can’t help but lean into it. The chaste kiss is mournful and longing and hopeful all at once. It’s a kiss that is laced with the possibility that it could be the last one. You desperately hope that isn’t true, but only time will tell.

When you both pull away, you can feel the tether between you, the one that has always been there, tighten.

“Will you go to Hillcrest?” he asks, raising his eyes to yours hopefully, but it is more an offer than a question. The house in Beverly Hills is his home away from home.

You consider this and realize, other than going home to your parents (who you don’t quite feel ready to face yet, either), it’s your only option. It’s also a concession that will keep you connected to him, and you are comfortable giving him that. With its gorgeous views and serene setting, it will be a perfect solace.

“Yes,” you respond, and he seems sated by that. “Thank you,” you add quietly, then before you can second guess yourself, you tear yourself gently from his grasp and walk out the door.

Graciously and swiftly, he has Jerry take care of all the arrangements. Sandy is set to join you, and once you are both packed and ready, Jerry takes you to the airport and sees you both off.

Before he leaves, Jerry stops you. “He wanted me to give you this,” he says quietly, then opens your hand and places something soft in it.

Surprised, you look down, and see the familiar pink silk scarf folded there. You haven’t seen it since Jack ripped it from your neck that horrible night. Your fingers close around it. The message is clear: The ball is in your court.

“Send it when you’re ready for him,” Jerry adds with a knowing look.

You nod. You put the scarf in your purse.

Elvis Presley loves me, you think as you sit on the plane, but that feels trite, knowing other women have been able to say the same at some point or another.

Elvis has loved me since we were teenagers. He’s in love with me and has been all this time.

Now that is something that sends a thrill right through you.

You reach into your purse and run the silk between your fingers.

When it’s time, I’ll know.

Four Weeks Later

The hot California morning sun beats down on the umbrella that shades you. You had been reading and wanted to get some fresh air, the cold of the air conditioning giving you a bit of a chill in your white sundress but you cannot help but close your eyes drowsily as the heat swallows you like a blanket.

The last month was restorative, to say the least. It had been such a relief to get out of the stifling cacophony of Vegas, and it had allowed your brain to rest and recover from your concussion. Your bruises healed, and Sandy was there to both listen and have a good time when you needed it. You talked and thought through all your memories, working to understand both your reasons and Elvis’ for the way things had gone for your entire relationship.

You hadn’t heard from Elvis, as he was taking your need for space seriously, but Elvis’ lawyer had visited a few times, drawing up divorce papers that surprisingly took you a few days to sign. Not because you didn’t want to, of course, but because you had to fully process all that had happened and what it all meant to you. Sandy sat through your crying and guilt and shame like a champ, supporting you wholeheartedly once you finally picked up the pen and signed away your destructive marriage.

Once the lawyer had called back a week later saying that Jack had signed the papers, you felt like a new woman. Like you could finally start anew. Part of you had expected more of a fight out of Jack, but you did not dwell on the reasons he might have signed so willingly.

Sandy had headed home to Memphis to join Jerry once the Vegas engagement and resulting celebrations were over. You sent the pink scarf with her, with instructions to give it to Elvis only once you called her to do so, once you were finally ready. She’d smirked and rolled her eyes but was happy to do it all the same.

“Whatever I can do to finally get you two idiots on the same page,” she’d said lovingly.

You’d called her last night.

You can’t help but feel nervous. Even though a month was certainly not the longest you two had gone without speaking, this time it felt poignant and heavy in another way entirely. Your thoughts ran away from you at times: What if he’s changed his mind? What if he met someone else in Vegas?

It was possible and even probable that he’d been with other women since you left. You know how he is, and a man like him is not liable to change overnight. But you’ve spent most of your relationship with other people, and he still loved you after all this time, so even if he had been with someone else, you doubted it meant anything at all.

Of course, it still sends a red heat of jealously through you all the same. You push the thought as far away as you can, swinging your legs off the lounge chair, puttering back inside.

The cool air hits you like a wall of ice, and you close the sliding glass door quickly, goosebumps raising on your skin.

“Y/n.”

The familiar drawling baritone freezes you in your tracks. As your eyes adjust to the darkness inside the house, his tall frame becomes apparent across the living room and goosebumps rise over your skin for an entirely different reason than the cool air.

He looks incredible, magnificent even, wearing a silky white button up, the buttons undone at the top to reveal his tan chest, a pair of perfectly tailored black pants flattering him in all the right ways. But most significantly, the pink and black scarf is draped around his neck.

“Elvis,” you whisper, your heart fluttering in your chest.

That tether that you’ve learned has always been subconsciously tying you two together yanks you towards him. Your book drops to the floor and your bare feet run for him before your brain can catch up to you.

He meets you halfway and you throw yourself into his open, waiting arms. Your lips crash together with fervor, thirsty for each other after such a long drought. Soft, sweet, pillowy lips drink you in as your heart races and he pulls you in tighter. His familiar scent and warmth engulf you in such a comforting way that it brings tears to your eyes.

When your kiss finally slows and you both come up for air, you whisper, “You came.”

“Of course, I came.” As if there was ever any doubt.

Elvis pulls you to the couch, cradling you in his lap as he showers you with gentle but intense kisses. The heat between you builds but unlike in Vegas, it is more patient—openly full of love and admiration.

“I missed you,” he says into your mouth, his statuesquely perfect nose nuzzling into yours.

“I missed you, too,” you admit with a smile.

“Good,” he smiles, that lip of his curling up almost shyly.

His lips find your cheek, then placing soft kisses over your nose and eyelids and your forehead, as if committing your bone structure to memory with his mouth. It is unhurried because, for once, you have all the time and privacy in the world. You sigh underneath the reverence of his kisses as they trail down your jaw.

“Baby,” you say, stopping him, “as much as I want to continue this, I have things I need to say before that happens.”

He gives you one last kiss before bringing his attention to you. His gorgeous azure eyes fix in on you in such a way that you feel overwhelmed. It’s amazing to you how, even after all these years, he still has the ability to completely render you speechless with his magnetism and beauty.

“Yes?” he says, steeling himself for what may or may not be coming.

You tear your gaze from him enough to refocus. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I need you to know that I forgive you, for all of it. I forgive you, and more than anything, I love you. I want to be with you, though I know we need to figure out what that looks like. I mean, if that’s what you still want, of course,” you fumble, looking away, not wanting to make assumptions.

“Oh, it’s very much what I want, lil’ mama,” he purrs happily and seductively, using his pointer finger under your chin to turn your head, bringing his lips once more to yours. Fire blooms in your chest and radiates down into your belly as his tongue dips into your mouth. “I love you. I want you to be with me. Always have, baby.”

“I signed the divorce papers, and so did Jack,” you blurt out, needing to make sure he knows and understands.

Elvis chuckles, the low rumbling vibrating under your hand on his chest. “I know, Satnin,” he drawls, his bedroom eyes sharp underneath the haze of lust you see in them.

“Of course, you do,” you laugh, shaking your head, taking the moment to run your fingers through his coiffed dark hair.

He looks at you deeply, firmly but gently grabbing your chin in his hand. “Let me be your everything,” he whispers. It is somehow both a question and a command.

Your stomach drops, but not out of fear this time. No, it is a tingling anticipation that wafts over you and makes your breath catch. You run your finger over his lips, pulling down on that full bottom one.

“Yes,” you nod. You unfurl from his arms and stand, reaching for his hand.

Elvis looks up at you through those long, dark lashes with something between wonder and eagerness. You pull him off the couch wordlessly, his fingers intertwining with yours as you lead him through the house to the master bedroom.

When you finally arrive, you look up at him almost bashfully. “I was wondering if we could try something new?” you ask. You’d been thinking about this for weeks now, all the different ways you want him, but this one thing had stuck in your mind after all you’d been through.

His eyes sparkle almost gleefully with curiosity and lust. “What’re you thinkin’, baby?” he purrs.

You take a deep breath before speaking. You’re not sure if he’ll go for it, but you figure it won’t hurt to ask. “I want to be in charge,” you finally say, matter-of-factly.

His dazed look at your request quickly turns to interest as his brow furrows with consideration. He doesn’t mull long, however, much to your pleasure, before uttering, “Hmm, why not, baby? Let’s try it.” He smiles coyly before bringing you in for a long kiss.

Your heart begins to thump in your chest. You’ve never done this, and you bite your lip, knowing that you have to change your attitude for him to take you seriously. You draw on the strength you’ve gained over these past weeks and take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“On your knees,” you command.

Elvis looks at you with amused surprise at the order. “What?”

“Did I stutter?”

His left eyebrow shoots up so far you think it may try to escape his pretty face and his brilliant blues go wide.

“No, ma’am,” he says, his voice getting breathy and quiet. His eyes don’t leave yours as he slowly sinks, his knees finally touching the floor.

A thrill shoots through you seeing him like this, humbled before you. This man who commands and dominates every room he walks into, brought to his knees for you. You doubt anyone in his adult life has truly had him like this. You relish in the way it makes your heart race in your ribcage.

“Say it again,” you whisper. He seems to know what you mean.

“I love you,” he replies quietly, his eyes open and shining up at you. There is an innocent and boyish quality to them.

With everything that has happened, you have a renewed sense of purpose and confidence which makes you bold.

You lean down and grab his chin in your hand firmly, feeling the light scratch of dark stubble under your fingers.

“Show me,” you command.

He nods furiously in compliance, that look of innocence tempered by sparks of lust in the depths of his oceanic blues. He is more than willing and up for the challenge, and the look sends a shiver of anticipation through you so strong that you can already feel warmth gathering low in your belly. It’s been over a month now since you had him last and each day felt like torture.

Elvis runs his hands up the backs of your calves, caressing your bare legs and resting on the backs of your thighs, his eagerness and yearning evident in his speed. He wants you, too, and he is oh so used to getting what he wants that it gives you pleasure to stop him.

“Uh uh,” you tsk, grabbing his chin again, “you’re gonna take it nice and slow, baby boy, and then maybe, if you’re really good, then you’ll get what you want.” It comes out like a purr, dangerous but alluring, surprising even you. But the look on his face is worth it, the way he nearly crumbles when you call him baby boy, the way his pouty mouth falls open slightly, the way he squirms on his knees, itching to take you but following your lead instead.

“Now, are you gonna be a good boy and do what I tell you?” you coo with an edge of warning. You’ve never in your life have done anything like this before, and you hadn’t planned this, but the control, the power just comes naturally, his responses fueling you forward.

He nods again, unconsciously wetting his plump lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Use your words,” you order.

“Uh-um, y-yeah, yes, I-I-I promise…mama,” he stutters out, picking up your cues and nodding, eyes are wide and becoming more yielding as he begins to submit to you.

Something about the way he does it has that warmth surging in your belly yet again.

“Good,” you say, running your nails up and through his raven locks, scraping his scalp and making his eyes roll back at your touch. You pull back quickly, leaving him a little breathless.

“No hands. Use your mouth,” you order with a smirk.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob with a gulp. “Yes, ma’am,” he replies, faster this time. He’s adapting quickly to your game, and the way he bows down to your feet, kissing the bare skin so softly as he makes his way slowly up your ankle to your calf has a thrill shivering through you. His pillowy lips and the tip of his tongue brush and lick their way up your legs, as he alternates one to the other. The sensation, especially after being deprived of his touch for so long, has you sighing softly, and his eyes roll up to yours, framed deliciously by those impossibly long and dark lashes. The blue of them has darkened with lust, but they remain compliant and eager to please.

That alone has the coil in your belly rapidly tightening, and you feel wetness begin to seep into your panties the closer his mouth comes to the place you want him the most.

Your breathing speeds up with this teasing when he meanders under your dress, peppering kisses along your panty line until his hot breath ghosts over the thin cotton of your panties. It puffs over your clit, and you pull your dress up with one hand to watch. His hands fly up to your ass of their own accord, squeezing and clutching at your panties to bring them down.

Using your other hand, you fist it tightly in his hair, yanking his head back and forcing him to look at you. “What did I say about hands, baby boy? I thought you were gonna be good for mama,” you tsk, shaking your head.

It’s a test. You relish in watching him quell the dominant urges he’s having by biting back a smirk of insolence, his lip sandwiched between his teeth so hard he could break the skin. The fire in his eyes almost dares you until he sees the serious look in your own and you tighten your grip in his hair. He winces a little and you watch him consider his options. You don’t let up during this battle of wills, unyielding and unbreaking of the eye contact that might usually level you.

No, after the last six weeks, this time you are going to get what you want.

Finally, he gets it, letting his arms drop to his sides. His face smooths, that innocence returning, and he submits completely to you.

“Good boy,” you breathe, releasing the grip on his hair and running your thumb over his lush bottom lip. His mouth opens and you push your thumb in, scraping at his teeth, then pushing into the soft warmth of his pink tongue. A low moan escapes him as his eyelashes flutter, and you allow him to suck it in, rolling his tongue over your thumb. A pleasured hum escapes your lips at the sensual sensation, and you feel it tingle straight down into your pussy.

“Try again,” you say, looking down at him, pulling out your thumb. You pull up your dress once more.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers eagerly, and you see the wheels turning for a moment before he continues. This time, he sits on his hands before he kisses directly over your sensitive nub, wetting the fabric with his tongue before kissing upwards. Then, he snaps the elastic between his teeth and slowly but surely pulls your panties down your legs. Your slick is already evident in the fabric, leaving little trails down your thighs. Gravity takes hold once they reach your knees, and they drop to the floor.

“There’s my clever boy,” you praise him, stepping out of your underwear, running your thumb over his high cheekbone. This causes that signature crooked, boyish smile to spread across his features, reminding you just how incredibly beautiful he is.

And he’s all yours.

As he lathes his tongue back up your thighs, cleaning the slick from them on the way back up to your core, your body shudders with delight and you feel him smiling against your skin. Looking down you see it is not a smirk, but genuine pleasure at making you feel good, and that sends warmth through your chest in addition to the heat rapidly building in your core.

You cannot help the moan of pleasure that escapes you when he finally reaches the apex between your legs and flattens his tongue over your folds. He drags it slowly, deliberately, ending with little flicks on your clit. Heat rolls over you, setting every nerve aflame, and this time when you grab his hair, it is to pull him encouragingly closer into your wet curls.

“Yes, good boy, just like that,” you sigh breathlessly as he begins to shower your pussy with attention, going slowly as you requested. He is soft and persistent, swathing gently through your folds, parting your labia with his tongue before rolling back to your clit. Oh, lord, he is so very versed in this, you remember quickly, as he suckles and presses soft kisses to that most sensitive place.

Your eyes fall shut as you grip his head and shoulder for balance. You cannot help the keening and panting that begins to emanate through you as the coil in your pelvis tightens. Even after only a short amount of time together, he somehow knows exactly how to play you for the most pleasure.

In a daze, your eyes open and you look down at him, his dark hair messy from your hands. That’s when you notice it: he is not touching you with his hands, as promised, but you see how he’s somehow undone his trousers without your knowing. You watch silently for a moment as one of his ring clad hands fondles and tugs at his cock, and it sends a thrill of arousal through you to catch a glimpse of him pleasuring himself like this when he doesn’t know you’re watching. Battling the swell of ecstasy that rockets through you, you curiously watch how his hand slides up and down over his length, pulling at the foreskin that mostly envelops his red tip, how his long thumb glides effortlessly over it, swirling the slick of precum around and over and down. It’s a well-practiced motion and it almost seems unconscious considering the way he is utterly focused on your pussy.

You gasp with pleasure as he massages your clit deftly with his tongue, and coupled with watching him jack off, you feel a desperation for more friction, more of him, building until you realize that it is you who is in control of this moment, not him. With a swell of need you push him back abruptly, his eyes bewildered, and lips shining with your arousal, hand still on his cock, wondering what he did wrong.

“Oh, what a naughty little boy you are. I didn’t say you could touch yourself. I didn’t say you could get yourself off, did I?” you say in a chastising tone.

And, oh god, the bashful look he gives you, dropping his cock, and how his cheeks redden at being caught as he looks down, those lashes fanning out, has you biting back a smile and more heat swelling under your dress.

“No, ma’am,” he says mournfully, shaking his head slightly. And then he’s blinking up at you with those deep blues, waiting for what you are going to do next, what his “punishment” might be, you realize.

“I guess I’m gonna need to teach you a lesson then,” you sigh with exasperation. But his disobeying you only serves to make you more aroused. You put your foot on his chest and push him down and backwards with a low growl. It’s like something primal has come over you, not only your need to dominate him, but also this flaming heat consuming your body and needing his mouth on you more definitively.

“Get on your back,” you demand.

Elvis scrambles backwards quickly and you are grateful for his flexibility as he easily untangles his legs from underneath him and falls back onto the thick shag carpeting. You step over him, sliding your dress up and over your head as you do so, leaving you in only your bra. When you look down, you see his blissed-out eyes wandering over your body with something akin to awe.

You lower yourself down to your knees, straddling his chest, which is already heaving from his arousal. He’s wearing the pink silk scarf, the one from your first night together, and it feels fitting, you think, as you lord over him and unravel it from around his neck. He watches you so intently in any other circumstance you might falter under his gaze, but while blown with lust, you can see by that bashful look in his eyes that he is committed to following your lead here.

“Hands above your head, baby boy,” you coo, running your hands up the underside of his arms, guiding them over his head. “Since you can’t seem to keep from doing naughty things with them, I’ll have to make you stop,” you admonish.

You sit fully on his chest then, feeling as the wetness of your cunt stains the front of his lovely silky shirt, and then you lean over, fully aware that it puts your breasts temptingly over his face. You hear him whimper, knowing he can’t touch you, and you smile as you use the black and pink scarf to tie his wrists together above his head.

You intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly pull back over his body, scooting your hips back as you go until your face is hovering just above his. He’s panting now, little puffs of breath coming from his lips as you ghost your own over his face. Tipping his chin up to try and capture a kiss, you pull back a bit.

“Nuh uh, baby boy. You have work to do first,” you shake your head, kissing the tip of his nose. Then you tempt him by flicking the tip of your tongue over the beautifully perfect cupid’s bow of his upper lip, and he fully whines and squirms under you.

You laugh at that, the fact that you are able to put him in this position, to make him want you enough to be vulnerable and needy like this. Then you become more serious, looking him in the eyes.

“Now use that wicked little mouth of yours to make me come,” you say in a low, sultry, daring tone. “And no touching unless I say so!”

“Y-y-yes, ma’am,” Elvis moans as you maneuver your body up and over his head, bracketing it in with your thighs. Your need for him is quite evident as you lower your already-soaking pussy onto his face and as his pouty mouth kisses your most sensitive areas, you know you are so wound already from this little game of yours that you fear you might come undone too soon.

You’ve never done this before and while part of you is a little worried about the mechanics and fears smothering him, that primal, instinctual part of you starts rocking your hips over his mouth.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly, unable and unwilling to contain the soft moans that his lips and tongue begin drawing out of you as you begin to ride his mouth. When he fully groans against you, the vibrations send a shockwave through your core, nearly snapping that coil inside you already. You steady yourself, finding a comfortable rhythm, and experimentally run your hands up your torso, using them to grope your breasts. You feel him moan again and look down to see him carefully watching you, his eyes blown black.

Sensing how it’s driving him wild, you lift your hips a little to give him air and reach down under the lace of your bra, using the pads of your fingers to lightly drag against the sensitive areola, taunting him and pinching your nipples to attention with a moan of your own.

“Fuckkkk,” he breathes out, the air tickling your labia.

“Language!” you hush him and plant back down on his face. His arms fight to come down and grab you, but between being tied and the way your weight is, he cannot, and groans against you again instead. He works you tirelessly now as you writhe over him and you feel that telltale tightening begin in earnest. You are nearly desperate as his tongue lathes against your folds again and again, dipping in and out of your hole, circling your clit and back again. He eats you expertly, willingly, and you ache for him.

“Good boy, there’s my good baby,” you pant quietly as your heart flutters and your breathing starts to hitch.

But when his tongue slips daringly lower, perhaps accidentally, perhaps not, you careen forward with a shocked gasp as it grazes your other hole.

“Elvis!” you gulp, clasping his hands with your own to steady yourself, stilling your hips. You aren’t quite sure how you feel about that slip yet, only knowing that it’s a place that has been forbidden before now. Your heart pounds so hard you hear the blood in your ears, your body on high alert.

“Hmmm?” is his only response before he tests you again, gently, letting his tongue circle that illicit spot lightly.

“Elvissss…” The moan escapes you before you can stop it because the unfamiliar feeling of his tongue there has your already aroused body teeming with the new sensation and you know you shouldn’t like it, you’re not supposed to like it…

“Yes? You like that mama?” he replies surprisingly bashful, submissively, compared to the sensual dominance that you are used to from him.

“I-I-I’m not sure, baby boy,” you finally stammer out honestly.

You feel him nod underneath you, as if understanding, and he goes back to suckle your clit, making you jump a little and roll your hips. And when his tongue travels back through your swollen folds and he goes a little farther to include that little secret spot, you can’t help but cry out in pleasure this time.

He smiles against you, and you respond by rolling harder on his face, effectively shutting him up. The carnality that flows through you banishes your prudishness and you let him kiss and eat you fully now, from hole to clit, letting the sensations consume you completely.

You fuck his face wildly. You don’t try to stop the keening noises crying from your lips, you just grip his hands for dear life as the coil inside you constricts, your body flooded with fire, desperate for the blast of release his talented mouth promises you. Frantic now, chasing that high, your body tenses over him and he groans loudly into your cunt, his tongue deep inside you, as your thighs squeeze his head.

The peak hits you incredibly hard and you cry out as you shatter above him. White stars flash behind your eyes followed by inky blackness. You can barely breathe for the way it hits you. He continues to lick and suck you through your orgasm, coaxing you, moaning into you in order to continue your pleasure for as long as possible. He devours every drop of your arousal. Shaking and shuddering and oversensitive, you finally scoot your hips back, allowing him to come up for air with his own gasp.

“Did I do good, mama?” he puffs, looking pleased, his face covered in your slick.

“You did perfect, baby boy,” you breathe out, kissing his cheeks, then his swollen lips, tasting your tangy sweetness there. Your body shivers with aftershocks as you come back into yourself, your mind concocting all the ways you want him tonight, all the ways in which you can show him your love and vice versa.

You look down at him, enjoying the sight of pussy-drunk lust on his boyish features, the vulnerability of his hands restrained above his head, the way his bedroom blues dreamily follow your gaze and your lead.

Your need for him feels insatiable. You want to wreck him, ruin him, in the best way possible. Biting your lip you roll your hips into his waist, feeling the cold of his belt sear into your bare core and Elvis’ eyes roll back a little as you drag your nails down over the part of his chest that is exposed above his shirt.

“You gonna continue to be good for mama, baby boy?” you lean down to coo in his ear, scootching your hips back just enough to feel the tip of his rock-hard length through his pants, and you can feel the shudder that ripples through him.

He nods furiously. “Y-yes, mama, oh yes, I’ll be good.”

“I’m so glad, baby,” you whisper, “Mama’s got somethin’ special in store for you.”

Elvis whimpers at that, and you can tell it is taking every ounce of self-control he has to keep from taking you right there and then, but he stays good and still and relatively quiet for you. You kiss down the shell of his ear, nibbling on the perfect lobe, and then you focus your attention on the divot just behind it where his jaw meets his skull. Lapping there for a minute, you take your time as he hums and tenses beneath you, turning his head the opposite direction to give you the access you want. You make your way agonizingly slowly down his neck, using your lips and teeth and tongue in all the ways you’ve learned he likes. By the time you reach his collarbone, he is practically writhing under you.

His breath is beginning to heave and become labored when you start down his tanned chest, the course hair there tickling your lips as you go. One by one, you pop the remaining buttons open, and with each, a pretty little huff escapes his pouting lips. Oh, how beautiful he looks with his cheeks all flushed and his hair mussed, those eyes alternating between peering down at you and looking up to the heavens.

Once again you move your hips back, this time hovering just above the erection raging in his pants. It’s enough that he can feel your heat, but you give him no friction whatsoever, and this is what finally has him bucking his hips up desperately, but you are prepared, dodging well out of the way before he finds any sort of relief.

“Now, now, that’s not how good boys behave,” you tsk at him, earning a huff in response. You use your nails to scratch down his now-exposed treasure trail, your lips following close behind and he fully whines by the time you reach the belt line.

“Please, please, mama,” he mewls at you, raising his head to look at you with begging eyes.

“All in good time,” you muse quietly, shooting him a soft smile.

You take your time with his heavy belt and zipper, causing him to spring forth, his cock hard and veiny, precum already oozing a sticky string between his tip and his abdomen, but you leave him there, untouched. Moving lower, you slowly, deftly, remove one shoe, then the other, doing the same with his socks. Then you pull his pants down his long legs, letting your fingers ghost over his sensitive skin. It’s torture, based on the way he squirms and sighs, and you find yourself full of emotions.

A small part of you relishes in making him squirm after finding out what he’d kept from you all these years, for all the time you may have lost with him because of his self-righteous ego. But a much larger part of you wants this with him, for him, because you know he’s likely not given himself to anyone like this. Not the great Elvis Presley, the man who strives for excellence and control in all things. You cannot imagine him letting just any woman bring him to his knees, tying him up, letting her have her way with him. At least you hope not.

But perhaps that is your own ego talking.

But a sense of unease, jealously perhaps, wafts over you, diminishing your confidence slightly.

“Baby boy?” you hum pensively at him, running your finger softly up the sole of his foot, causing him to jump and giggle a little.

“Yes, mama?” he responds softly, tilting his chin down to look at you.

You frown, worrying your lip a little, wanting to approach this skillfully as not to ruin the mood, but you have to know. Now that the thought is there, you must know.

“Have you ever let anyone else do this? Touch and tease you like this?” you ask, trying to keep your voice sultry and light, running your fingers up the underside of his arm, dragging across the pink silk that binds his wrists.

His brow furrows for a moment as he tries to interpret what’s going on underneath the bravado you’re showing, trying to glean your true meaning, and then his face softens and smooths with realization, his eyes wide and open for you. “Not like this, mama. Just for you. Only you,” he says genuinely, and you know it’s true, that he’s not just giving you lip service within the game you are playing.

“Good,” you nod, more moved by this than you want to show right now, your heart swelling with this new knowledge. You kiss him gently and softly on the lips.

“Do you trust me?” you add more mischievously, your confidence returning.

“Completely,” he nods back.

“Then it’s time to get on the bed, baby boy,” you purr.

He brings his arms down in front of his abdomen, the scarf still taut at his wrists and his shirt open and flowing behind him, and you help him to standing. His eyes sparkle a little with what you think is anticipation. Once to the bed, he snakes his long, beautiful body backwards until he is lying up against the dark pillows.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him lying there, vulnerable and all yours. Getting between his legs, you start at his feet, massaging the ropey muscles with your hands, and alternately kissing your way over the arches, his ankles, and up his calves, up every perfect part of him. You pay attention closely to these spots you’ve never really explored before, listening and watching him carefully. When his breath catches, or he hisses in through his teeth, you know it’s extra sensitive, and of course, when his mouth falls open and his eyes roll back you know you’ve hit the jackpot.

You take your sweet time working up his muscled legs, bringing up and opening his knees to give you more access to what you are finding is the highly sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. Warmth rolls through you when you nip there, very close to his balls and he nearly jumps off the bed.

“Stay still and be good, baby boy,” you purr at him with a sly smile against his leg, and he whines in protest but stills himself. You think it’s high time you give him some well garnered attention to his large, heavy testicles. His musky scent fills your nostrils, setting your biological need for him on fire. You wiggle a little on your knees with anticipation but since you aren’t sure exactly what he likes or what his boundaries are yet, you want to make sure he has an out.

“Baby,” you say seriously, looking into his eyes, “if you really want me to stop, like really, I need you to tell me, okay? Say…” You stop, looking around for inspiration, something he would never say in the heat of the moment, and then your eyes land. Perfect.

“Say ‘pink scarf’ if you really want me to stop baby, okay?” you urge.

Elvis nods, looking excited and also a little concerned at the prospect of what you might do to him to require him to use such a phrase. “Pink scarf, got it,” he breathes.

With that, you feel better, and return your attentions down in between his legs. His cock is hard and buoyant against his pelvis, precum glistening the angry red tip that is peeking out from his lighter foreskin, but that is not what you’re going to focus on, not yet.

Using your thumbs, you apply gentle pressure to the insides of his thighs, massaging slow circles up, up, up, closer to his most sensitive areas. Lying on your stomach between his open legs, you test the waters by running your nails softly over the darkened, wrinkly skin of his ball sac.

He hisses in at that, his lower half tensing as you gently continue, using your thumb, pointer, and middle fingers to explore the area. In his arousal, his balls are pulled up tight to him, but it doesn’t detract from the fact they are still rather large compared to what you’re used to. His breathing becomes more labored as you roll his testes between your fingers, cupping them, then pulling gently.

His hips roll and wiggle. You love the effect you are having on him, the way he responds so readily under your touch, and you wonder if this is what it’s like for him when he plays with you. It sends heat of a different kind rolling through your body each time he jolts or gasps.

Which is exactly what he does when you nuzzle his sac with your nose before flattening your tongue against the seam and licking a long stripe from back to front. His hips rise off the mattress and running your hands over the crease of where his legs meet his torso, you push those famous narrow hips back down to the bed.

“Oh mama, oh mama,” he whispers quietly, almost like a begging prayer, as you continue lathing your tongue back and forth and up and down over his balls. He begins to writhe in earnest, despite your hands holding him, his legs pulling up and boxing you in.

“Be still,” you command, lifting your head, pushing his bent legs back open.

He obeys instantly, looking down at you with wild, shining eyes, nodding almost unconsciously in reply, as if preparing himself for whatever you deem to do next.

You use your hands again, one to push his legs up, tilting him towards you, the other rolling him like dice, before lifting his sac enough to lick the underside completely. Taking inspiration from his playbook, you then flick down over his taint, applying pressure with your tongue, his musky scent consuming you.

He moans long and loud at that, unable to contain himself as you shower this newly found spot with all your attention. As you lick and press and roll, he mewls and begins to shudder. Your heart beats faster against your ribcage at his reactions, how he pants above you, and you wonder what will happen if you press your thumb to that softer spot right above his puckered hole.

So you do. You press that spot over and over and watch him tremble and writhe until he looks damn well possessed.

“Please, oh please, oh GOD!” he cries out and eventually his entire body tenses, hips lifting as though he were coming inside you, and he shudders wildly before falling hard back onto the bed. Heart pounding, you lift your head to see a milky white leak from his tip. It’s not cum in the sense you are used to, but some sort of release nevertheless.

You’re not one hundred percent sure what just happened, but you are pleased you made him feel so good. You watch him lying there, gasping from pleasure, his hands clenching and releasing against their bonds, trying to recover from whatever that was. His face is flushed red, making the blue of his arousal-darkened eyes look almost preternatural, and tears leak, dampening his dark lashes. He looks positively bewildered.

“Good job, baby boy,” you praise him, kissing the inside of his knee.

“Wh-wh-what w-was that, mama?” he gasps, asking.

“That ever happen before?” you respond, curious, instead of answering him.

He shakes his head, his hair flopping as it lolls from side to side.

“Hmm…well, did it feel good, baby?” you ask because you aren’t entirely sure what happened, but you don’t let him know that. You don’t let him know about your own fresh arousal that’s leaking down the sides of your thighs or how your heart is fluttering in your throat at the sight of him such a mess before you. Not yet.

He nods furiously, eyes unfocused.

You smile at the blissed-out look on his face. You crawl up him to give his open lips a little kiss. “Mama’s not done with you yet, baby boy,” you whisper against his lips before pulling back.

His dreamy eyes go wide, but you don’t dwell, instead making haste to kiss down his chest once more, stopping to tongue and scrape his nipples with your teeth, making him jump underneath you once again. You kiss down the flat planes of his belly, detouring to give a little attention to his bound hands, sucking a digit or two into your mouth on the way down.

He fully shivers at that, moaning, sending a thrill of your own down to your toes. His belly is already heaving again with anticipation as you arrive at your next destination. His length bounces as his stomach moves, the milky white having leaked onto his belly, but whatever release he’d had did not affect the hardness of his cock, much to your pleasure.

Your goal here is to worship and tease, rather than the ways you’d had him in your mouth before. The way he’d fucked down into your throat both gently and harshly prior to this was not going to be his experience this time. No, this time is all about giving him a night he’s unlikely to ever forget. It is about claiming him as your own while showering him with love and attention on your terms. You’ve never had that before, not truly, and oh how sweet you are finding it already…

First, all you do is hover over his cock, so closely that he can feel your hot breath against him as you run your open mouth up and down his shaft. He squirms his hips from left to right, his hands fisting, and you can sense how it is taking everything in him not to buck up into you.

“Mamaaaa…need y-you,” he begs.

This makes you smirk coyly.

“Hush, baby,” you admonish him with a furrowed brow, stilling his hips again with your hands. “Be a patient good boy and you’ll get what you need.” Eventually…you think smugly.

He can only manage a whimper in response.

Finally, you place soft, barely there kisses up his shaft, feeling his rapid pulse through the throbbing veins. His foreskin awaits and you kiss gently around it, and it must be very sensitive because he’s fully gasping now, quiet “uh, uh, uhs” escaping his lips. Using only your tongue, you dip it into and under the foreskin, swirling it around the head.

“Oh, oh, no, t-too much, too much, mama!” he half moans-half cries, nearly levitating off the bed, but you don’t stop, instead sucking the tip of him into your mouth and soothing the head with your tongue.

You look up at the man you are in love with, in all his messy ecstasy, as tears stream down the sides of his pretty face, but he does not say the words, only sighing at this little bit of relief you give him. So, you continue, after this moment of reprieve, sending your tongue up and down his shaft, then kissing and tonguing his sensitive tip as though it were a dripping ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

“Please, please, please,” Elvis pants out of that wonderous and full mouth of his. By the time you use your hand to fondle his balls again, he is so fully enraptured, staring up into the mirrors above you, that you’re not sure he’s even on the same plane as you anymore.

God, it has you nearly coming undone yourself to see him like this, bringing him closer and closer to the edge without letting him fall over. You find yourself pressing your thighs together, desperate for your own friction.

His gorgeous eyes flutter down to you as you once again tongue his tip. “B-bein’ good, m-mama, please, needju,” he whimpers, his words slurring together.

“Bein’ so good, baby boy,” you praise him, then you take him fully into your mouth, pumping once, twice, and then you feel his entire body tense and shake.

“F-f-fuuuuckkk,” he groans gutturally, his hips bucking into your throat, coming completely undone nearly instantly. His eyes roll back into his head, beads of sweat mixing with the tears down his face, and the prominent vein in his neck pulses in time with his salty, thick release. It coats your tongue, and you swallow him down readily before gently lathing your tongue over the tip of his sex. He squirms under you, rocked and hypersensitive as you pop off him.

“Thank you, mama,” he whispers, looking so relieved and sex drunk that you are beside yourself now. Every nerve ending inside you is on fire. Before he can soften, you climb onto his lap, lining him up with your entrance and sliding him through your soaking folds and into your heat.

Elvis’ eyes widen in shock and he wiggles his hips down into the mattress as if trying to escape. little “ah ah ah!” puffs come from his lips, like he’s handling a hot potato.

“M-mama, ah, ah! I-I-I can’t,” he shakes his head before slamming it back onto the bed.

“Oh, you can, baby boy, you can, I promise,” you say breathlessly, relishing the feel of him filling you, even though he’s beginning to soften slightly. You roll your hips in his lap. “You’re gonna keep being such a good boy and make me come, right, baby?” you encourage demurely, hooking enough into his ego and his need to please you to keep him going.

All you know is that you need him, need to keep him inside you, to have him fill you up, even if you have to wait.

The noise that comes from him is somewhere between a groan and a growl, his eyes screwing shut for a moment as he tries to compose himself enough to continue. You still, placing your hands on his chest, and wait for his response.

“How about this? You’ve been so good for mama. I’m gonna take this scarf off you and you use those hands to show me some love while we wait,” you say.

That has him opening those glassy, pretty eyes of his and nodding.

“Mama’s gonna keep makin’ you feel real good, don’t you worry now, baby,” you tut at him, untying the knots at his wrists. The silk yields easily. You lean forward on top of his chest and throw it around his neck.

Elvis rolls his wrists a few times then wraps his arms around your back, holding you fast to him while he continues to breathe heavily. The feeling of being draped on him and held in his long arms sends an almost wholesome warmth through your body. Oh, how you missed being close to him like this. It’s almost as if you didn’t know it until this very second, that string that has been pulling you two together for so long finally loosening as you fall unencumbered into each other’s arms.

After a long moment, he calms and his hands start roaming slowly over your back. You can feel the cool of his rings against your fiery skin and it sends shivers through you. You feel starved for him, hence your desperate need to have him inside you and to show him with every fiber of your being that you will be all he ever needs from here on out.

You hum softly, pleased, when his hands find your ass, your hips, and you swivel them. He is soft inside you for the moment, at least, and you feel the sharp intake of breath at your movements, his hands gripping you to keep you still.

Still sensitive, you think.

His hands flutter up and down your sides then, softly enough to make you want more. You can hear his heart pounding in his chest, the rhythm beginning to match yours the longer you stay intertwined. This is what you’ve been missing, needing, all along. Him vulnerable and sated under you. Knowing that you are the only one he truly wants. Knowing that it’s been that way for almost as long as you’ve known him.

“Say it again,” you whisper into his neck, kissing his pulse points.

It only takes him a moment to understand what you are asking.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“Mmmm,” you hum, kissing your way up his strong, angular jaw to his lips. “Again.”

“I love you.” It rumbles in his chest so you can feel it vibrate into yours.

Each time he says it, it dances through you, lighting up all the dark spaces that were so afraid and convinced he would never feel the same.

You kiss his lips, softly at first, then deepening as your own love pours out of you and into him.

His hands are everywhere now, one tangling in your hair, the other snapping the clasp of your bra undone. Your mouths separate just long enough for you to rip off the lace and fling it to the side. The feel of his bare chest against yours makes you feel like you are melting into him. Your mouths are unhurried but intense, tongues exploring, devouring each other whole.

“I love you,” you say into his mouth, voice hushed and reverent.

He pauses for a moment, pulling back just enough for you to get lost in the oceanic depths of his eyes as they gaze at you adoringly, as if memorizing your features. “I’m yours,” he says. Then he pulls you back down to him, his mouth consuming you once more.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, kissing, touching, exploring each other as if it were the first time, but it is long enough that you feel him begin to stiffen inside of you once more, just as you knew he would. Slowly, you begin to rock on top of him, your hands and lips tracing his Apollo-like features. Your fingers rake through his raven hair, damp with sweat from the exertion.

Elvis’ hands cup your face, your neck, tangling through your hair, caressing your breasts. He touches you reverently, though as your passions increase, his hands light streams of fire over your skin wherever they deem to touch. A heated coil tightens again in your belly, more gradually this time, but deep all the same.

The room is quiet, save for the heavy breathing that has synced between the two of you, a hushed feeling that matches the intensity of your lovemaking. His deep gaze threatens to consume you from below as you ride him, and every cell in your body is being called to his.

He fills you in ways no one ever has and as no one ever could. Perhaps he was made just for you, you think, with how perfectly you align. You realize that this is the first time you’ve had him with all your memories intact. Every moment the two of you have had since the beginning now swells between you, a now shared history that makes this moment all the more poignant.

You are lost in the depths of him just as much as he is lost in you. You can see it now, so obviously, and you wonder how you spend so very long without him. Beyond his talent, beyond his gorgeousness, lies that both human yet ethereal man, and he is wonderful and he is flawed, and he is finally yours.

He expertly touches your sensitive bud, sending you careening towards the edge of an abyss that once frightened you. Because of course this was never just about sex, though your brain tried to trick you, making you forget that your love for him started so very long ago. But what terrified you six weeks ago now feels ripe with possibility. What made you feel trapped has now been set free. And as that coil snaps and you fracture above him, it allows your true self to emerge for the first time in a very long time.

“I love you, Elvis,” you breathe, locking eyes with him as you fall, knowing he will be there to catch you.

Your moan of pleasure, his name a whispered prayer on your lips, coupled with the sight of you has him following right behind you, all his years of fear and guilt splintering into pieces along with the most intense orgasm he has ever had.

“I love you, y/n,” he returns in equal measure.

You collapse into his arms, unaware of the tears on your face until you feel them wetting the pink scarf that somehow remains around his neck. Elvis holds you to him, his fingers twirling the ends of your hair, not just with possessiveness and control, but with unfettered love. There is aways to go between the two of you in your relationship, now that you remember everything that has happened, but you have no doubt that the two of you will figure it all out, together this time.

For the first time in forever, you feel truly at peace.

Finally, you are exactly where you need to be.

With the man you love eternally, who loves you just as much.

Here, with Elvis.

Please let me know in the comments/DMs/asks if you are interesting in buying a physical and/or ebook of Pink Scarf (with bonus chapters/material)! 💗🧣💗

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jasntodds · 1 year ago

Text

Petrichor [11]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 19,142

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon drug use, canon violence, blood, bruises, manipulation, canon manipulation, canon character death, mentions of the wolf story from the cabin (it's not detailed like in the show), mentions of PTSD (canon), mentions of abuse

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Fun fact: Scarecrow is actually my second favorite Batman villain (second to the Riddler of course) so I had fun writing Crane a little bit lol I am so sorry this is so late. I ended up busy for once so lol but it is a long chapter to make up for it!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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You come to half an hour later, your eyes peeking open slowly. Your head is in a haze like when a sudden nap happens and you wake up confused what day it is and how long you've been asleep. Your eyes scan around, spotting Jason sitting on the floor a few feet away from you cleaning one of his guns. He's still in the Red Hood suit with his helmet off to the side and there's a blotch of light red on his jaw, right where your fist connected with his face. And the guilt hits like a freight train. You clear your throat making Jason look up to you and you think you just saw his face relax.

“What the fuck just happened?” Your throat is raw and you can't tell if that's some weird after-effect of the drug or if it's from all the yelling.

Maybe it's both.

Jason looks up to you and his stomach starts to twist into knots. The guilt is dulled but it's that echo that's annoying, like a headache that just won't quit. He's been sitting here the entire time, looking to you to make sure you're okay and wondering what he's supposed to say when you come to. He wishes he knew but he doesn't.

He can't take back what he said and he can't back you fighting. Drug or not, it never should have happened. None of it. It never should have involved you. But, now it's messier than ever and Jason desperately wants to leave it all in the shadows and creaky floorboards of this room. He doesn't want it on his shoulders or lingering on his skin or his tongue anymore. But, maybe he doesn't want you to know that just yet.

He's high but he always cares about you. And maybe, letting himself be cold about everything will be better. Maybe you'll finally leave. It'd be better for you if you did anyway.

“Exhaustion is a side effect of the comedown. The only way around it is to sleep or take more and I wasn’t gonna give you mine.” Jason states casually, going back to cleaning.

You furrow your brows. You keep coming back to wondering how you missed him taking this. It all seems so obvious and you feel so guilty about it. Maybe you were so wrapped in the sort of fantasy of being happy, with him, that you willfully ignored every warning sign. That isn't entirely true. You knew something was going on, but maybe if you looked harder, went back to your pessimism, you wouldn't have missed it.

“So, you just…let me sleep? After that?” You scoff, trying desperately to figure out which side his logic is landing at the moment.

“Cleaned the cut on your head and made sure you were fine.” Jason shrugs, his eyes glancing to you for just a second.

As soon as Jason got Hank done and into a cab back to Wayne Manor, he cleaned the blood and cut off of you. He definitely followed it with another hit from an inhaler but he helped you anyway. At the end of the day, at the end of all of this, he just wants you to be safe. Crane might be trying to fill his head with lies and it might be working, but Jason knows in the very center of his chest, you don’t deserve anything bad to happen to you ever again. You might not be entirely on the same side, but Jason isn’t going to just throw you to the side. He won’t do it. It's why he pulled his punches and he never pulls his punches.

“What about Hank?” You ask softly, your eyes never leaving him.

You're pretty sure he's still high.

Jason pulls out his phone, checking the time. “He has a few hours.”

You roll your eyes. Now that you aren’t high on the drug, your thoughts are more logical, no longer fueled by anger. You watch Jason and you remember Hank saying he’d kill Jason if given the chance. It’s not that you agree with Jason killing him, but maybe it’s kill or be killed.

“Why Hank? Like what made you do that?” You question, earning a side eye from Jason. He doesn't want you involved in any of this which also means you don't get to know the reason. Not from his mouth. “Okay, you’re not gonna put a bomb in my chest. Gar is your friend. You don’t stand a chance against Kory or Conner. Dawn is Dawn. You like to fuck with Dick. That leaves Hank, right?”

Jason offers you a grin before he chuckles. “He’s also a fucking prick and you know it.” Jason gestures a lazy free hand at you and something about the grin and the gesture, almost seems normal.

You shake off the familiarity of it because at the end of the day, you don't think Hank deserves to die, not if he didn't come here with the intent to kill Jason. “Yeah….but what? Did you lure him here or?”

Jason can tell you're digging but he can't tell for what. His reasoning why Hank and how he got him here, isn't important. It's not even relevant to really anything. But, Jason knows you and he's starting to think maybe you're digging to see if you should be on his side. That's what you usually did for things that didn't really matter. Get his side of the story so you can side with him.

“Why do you wanna know so damn bad?”

“I wanna know how mad I need to be.” Your shoulders feel heavy with the shrug.

Jason scoffs and even if he doesn't want you involved, he wants you on his side. If you're on his side, you'll back off and let the plan fall into place. “I didn’t make him come. I asked to and he did, without backup.”

“How’d you get him to show up, Jason?” You almost groan because getting answers out of him sometimes is like pulling teeth.

“Said Dick would kill me and I just wanted to come home.” Jason can't help the chuckle that falls from his throat.

Something about it is amusing.

You nod your head and maybe you feel a little less bad. You know Jason had some sort of ploy to get him here. Hank was just dumb enough to fall for it. After everything, apparently, he didn’t learn not to go headfirst into something without backup. That was just stupid. But, that also makes you question Hank’s intentions.

You don’t believe for even one second Hank showed up alone with the intention to help Jason. He was pissed earlier and he’s an ass. If Hank told any of the Titans, they would have come with him and none of them wanted Jason dead. Maybe Jason told Hank he was watching him but you figure if anyone would know how to get around being watched in Gotham, it would have been you or Dick. Yet, Hank didn't go to either of you. On top of that, why would Jason call Hank if he wanted to come home and not you or Gar? Maybe Hank wanted to be the one to either kill Jason or bring him down himself. Maybe you feel a little less bad about it.

Kill or be killed.

“Asshole.” You huff.

You watch Jason carefully, an easy smirk dancing across his lips but it never reaches his eyes. You're sober now, remembering everything that happened and you can feel the guilt washing over your insides like charcoal. None of it is true. And you hate that any of it was even said. If you didn’t mean it, neither did Jason. It was the drug and you're positive of that. And you're thinking the drug is the entire reason Jason is trying to kill Hank.

A very large part of you is wondering if you would helped Jason had you not been so mad at him. You actually think you would have and that is something you would never do. Hank is a Titan and he didn’t do anything to warrant his death sentence. You wouldn’t normally kill him but you're almost positive you would have had you not been mad at Jason. And you think, maybe that’s the reason Crane helped Jason make the drug, to weaponize him and at this moment, you swear his days are numbered. But, before you seek your revenge, you want Jason back.

Getting him back is going to be a lot more difficult because even you're sitting here itching for another hit of an inhaler. You can’t imagine how Jason is feeling the second it starts to wear off. But you want him back and you're not going to rest until you get him back.

“He probably came to kill you.” You state.

Jason snaps his attention to you, his brows furrowing. “What?” Jason huffs.

“Yeah, Titans are pissed. Well, Hank. Everyone else is just confused how the hell you’re alive and with the shit you’re doing. But Hank said if he came to it, he’d kill you so.” You let out a breath and you swear his expression just deflated.

“And you fucking fought me over that shit?”

“I was high.” You huff. “Which you know damn well if it weren’t for that shit you’re also on, by the way, I never would have. But you get the cure to fear and you lie to me and you don’t even share.” You spit back while Jason dodges your eyes this time, going back to cleaning the gun you think has to be clean by now.

“I don’t want you involved.”

“Okay.” You let out a sigh. "Why not?" You ask, Jason glancing up to you, the white strands of hair falling onto his forehead. "Is it Crane or is it me? Is it the drug? Why don't you want me involved, Jay? Because you keep fucking saying that shit with no explanation."

Jason opens his mouth to fight back, to tell you to let it rest and he doesn't have to tell you anything. But, his eyes land on the cut on your forehead and the bruising near your cheek and he caves.

"Do you really want to work with Jonathan fucking Crane?" Jason spits, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You never gave me the choice to." You state.

"I knew you wouldn't go for it." Jason shrugs, looking back to the gun because that seems a lot easier than looking at your face now.

"Okay." You let out a sigh of defeat.

There’s no point in talking about it. He’s clearly high. You can tell by the coldness that surrounds his voice. He’s going to believe whatever Crane has to say to him because that’s the drug, you're almost certain. And Crane gave him something to cure him. Jason's in debt to him. He sees him as a savior of sorts and you desperately wish you could get through to him. But at least you understand it now.

A part of you don’t think anything could have gotten through to you while you were high. It’s powerful and strong, all-consuming. You were only high for two hours and you hate that version of yourself but there is this twitch through your bones that almost wants to ask Jason for his. It’s like a sudden vibration starting in your bone marrow and radiating through your head and your chest. And you can even feel the lingering tinge of anger like the very end of a fire.

Whatever insane shit Crane had Jason cook up, is fucked. You hope it’s not too late to talk some sense into Jason but you have to catch him when he’s not high. You aren't now and it was only one dose anyway but you swear, you feel normal. It's just that small twitch in your bones that feels uncomfortable. But, that's it. You feel like you never took it in the first place and maybe it's not too late for him. It might be a waste of breath to try when he's high, but you have to try anyway. He would for you.

You scoot closer to Jason until you're right in front of him. Jason pauses his movements, looking over your face. He felt the guilt creeping in before he took the inhaler again. He knows he’ll never forgive himself.

You place your hands on his cheeks and Jason’s face softens and you know he’s there somewhere. But you don’t feel his hands move to you and you feel like you're losing him slowly.

Maybe that’s worse than him being ripped away.

Jason’s eyes dodge yours and he wants to peel his skin off his bones. It feels wrong for you to touch him. It feels all wrong. He can’t bring his hands to your hips or to your hands or anywhere. You don’t feel like you're his anymore and it’s all his fault. He told you you were a mistake. You always deserved better than him but not a single part of him can bring himself to push again. Because you look at him with soft eyes as if you didn’t just explode on each other and have a real fight. You look at him like he’s still the only person you could ever love wholly and solely.

“You're gonna regret it, Jay. Hank fucking sucks and I don’t fucking like him either. But you’re gonna regret it.”

“Why did you fight me over him? You said he was gonna kill me.” Jason asks, his voice is soft.

Jason knows if he weren't high, that part of everything would hurt, too. A lot more than it does right now. And he is so thankful he doesn't have to deal with that pain. He's so tired of pain.

“You wouldn’t let me kill Jerry. And I knew it’d piss you off if I stopped you.” You move your hands to his legs. "And Hank isn't Jerry." You shake your head softly. "If you kill him, that'll be it and I don't want that for you, Jay."

You watch Jason hang his head, highlights from the light in the room bouncing off the white streak of hair. You know you can’t really get through to him, not right now but you want to believe you can. It makes it easier.

Jason just finds it hard to look at you. And he wants to know how you can do that. The drug still wins and he is sturdy in the plan, unmoving and relentless. But, he listens anyway and you make his chest hurt. The guilt and shame are thundering and ramming the jail bars in the back of his head as hard as they can. He doesn’t know why you're still here. Maybe it’d be easier if he believed you were working another angle. And for a second, he starts to talk himself into it, the drug encouraging him.

Maybe you're just trying to get inside of his head so the other Titans can finish him off. Maybe you're just using him, like Crane said. Maybe you want to the drug all for yourself now. Maybe you're waiting for your own moment to finish him off, he falls into your criteria now, doesn’t he?

But his eyes back to yours and all the fight he has is shaken loose, scattering through his chest as an apology breaks through.

“Sorry for what I said and for fighting you.” Jason says quietly.

Your face softens and you think maybe it's working, just a little bit. “Yeah, me too.” You nod softly.

Jason puts the gun off to the side, making sure the barrel is facing away from both of you. He finally finds it himself to bring his hands to your waist. They’re shaking and hesitant, his grip not nearly as strong as it usually is.

“No, I mean it. I don’t mean any of that shit. I don’t want you involved.” Jason's voice becomes barely a whisper. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

“Jay, I am fucking terrified for you.” You place your hands over his. “I know you don’t see it, but this is going to get fucking bad and I am scared, I know you’re not. But I am. Deactivate that bomb and come home, Jay, please.” You clear your throat. “I’m not mad…I get it. I know you didn’t mean it. I didn't either.”

“I can’t.” Jason drops his hands, shaking his head. “This is me. Gotham needs someone who can control the crime and do the hard shit. We have a plan and it’ll work out, alright? You just have to trust me.” A piece of the real Jason finds a way to break through as his jaw clenches and his brows furrow with the sudden shake his of his head. “Please.”

“I trust you more than anyone but I don’t trust Crane. You can still do this Red Hood stuff. You don’t need Crane. You never fucking needed Bruce either. You don’t need Dick. You don’t need any of them, Jay. You can just do your own thing and protect Gotham the way you want to. All you and I’ll stand beside you if you want me to. You don’t need him.”

“Yeah, I do.” Jason keeps it short.

“Okay.” You nod your head and it actually burns as if acid is being poured down your throat.

It has to be the drug. That has to be how Crane has been able to manipulate him so well. But, it is nearly paralyzing because for some reason, Crane asking Jason to do all of this, is more important than you asking him to come home. With you. Somehow, staying loyal to Crane is more important to him right now. Jason on the anti-fear drug is not the Jason you know and love.

“Deactivate the bomb. I’m asking nicely and then just beat the shit out of Hank if that’s what you want to do. I’ll get some popcorn and watch. You can’t come back from that, okay? Like you said.”

“It’s done.”

“Alright, Jay.” You let out a sigh.

You tried your best and you want him back. You don’t want him to wake up when this is over and deal with the fact he killed Hank. It’s going to destroy him. The guilt will finish him off and you hate the very idea of that. He’s not too far gone but you're terrified he will be soon. So, you move your hands to his cheeks again and press your lips to his.

Jason freezes, bits of shock taking over his body because in no world did he expect you to kiss him. But you do and you kiss him with all of the strength you can muster as Jason squeezes your hips and kisses you back. You kiss him with everything in you as if that’s enough to suck out the drug from his bloodstream and bring him back home. You kiss him as if it’s enough to make everything better again like putting a bandaid on a bruise to trick your mind into thinking it doesn’t hurt. But you pull away and his eyes are still dilated and he lacks that cheesy but lazy grin he would normally have. And you hate this.

“I’m going back to the manor.” You pause, lingering for a few seconds as if to be hoping Jason would ask you to stay but the words never leave his lips. You don’t know it, but he almost says them. He doesn’t want you here but you still feel like home and he really misses the warmth of home. Jason doesn’t like feeling so cold all the time. “I hope you can live with this when you have a comedown. I hope you snap out of it. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you go through with this. You’re really pushing the line, Jay.” Jason watches you carefully as you start to leave. “Be careful and just fucking think about it. Let yourself be sober for an hour, okay? Love you.” You let out a sigh before you head out of the room before Jason can even reply.

Jason keeps his stare on the doorway before he lets out a breath. He is begging you to understand and just trust him. You always said you trust him more than anyone and this is the one time he desperately needs you to trust him. It’ll get messier if you keep trying to get him to be a Titan again and in his impaired state, it pisses him off.

The Titans have always treated him as lesser and leftovers. He was the replacement for Dick. That’s all he ever was and he was expendable, Deathstroke proved that. And he’s better, how they handle Hank is going to more proof. The only people who didn’t treat Jason like that are you and Gar. That’s it. The Titans are the enemy and he just wants you to see through their bullshit the same way you're trying to get Jason to see through Crane’s bullshit. He just wants you to trust him.

You get back to the Manor, standing outside and looking at the entrance. The guilt is chewing at you, slowly eating you whole. You hate Hank, especially with the threat of killing Jason. But, you don’t think he deserves to die. Not unles he was really going to kill Jason when he went to meet him today. Then, at that point, he got what was coming. But you aren’t sure that’s really what the plan was and you feel horrible you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

You tried, you pulled your punches, but you tried and it wasn’t good enough. Hank might die today because you weren’t good enough. You hate him but you think about Dawn. Dawn doesn’t deserve to lose him. She loves him for reasons you will never understand but she doesn’t deserve to lose him. You know what it feels like. It’s not fair. And you feel guilty and it’s heavy and you hate you fought Jason, too. Every piece of today lays heavy on your chest and all you want to do is run out of Gotham. You don’t want to deal with any of it. But that’s not an option so you move forward, opening the door and entering the manor.

On top of the guilt over Jason, you also know you can't tell any of them what you found out. If you tell them, they'll know he's working with Crane. Jason didn't even want you to know and he even looked worried when you did figure it out. What if them knowing Crane is the partner puts Jason's life at risk? What if Crane has more than Jason on the outside? If you tell them, what if it gets him killed? And then it's your fault. Maybe it's wrong to keep it from the Titans, but you don't want to risk him getting killed again. Not if you don't have to and maybe, just maybe, Jason will change his mind last minute. You hope against hope, he will change his mind.

You head to the Batcave, not seeing any Titans around the manor. When you reach the cave, you see everyone around Hank looking worried. This is the moment for you where you know you’ll need to pick a side. If Jason goes through with this, you can’t sit in the middle and hope for the best. You’ll need to choose who you're working with. And at this point, you aren’t sure you want to work with any of them.

“You're okay!” Gar chimes as he spots you coming into view.

Your brows furrow. “Uh…yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, looking around the room as the Titans put their eyes on you.

“Well…I mean…Hank.” Gar gestures and moves slightly, giving you a better view of Hank lying in a bed with the bomb on full display. “You also have a cut on your head and a bruise on your cheek.” Gar gestures a finger, mirroring where the bruise sits.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” You shake it off, finishing your walk to the Titans.

The Titans turn to look at you and suddenly, you feel like a spotlight has just found you in the middle of a hidden forest after committing mass murder. Dick looks disappointed which you think might actually be worse than him just being mad. Same with Kory. Conner looks confused. But Hank and Dawn look pissed and you don’t so much blame them. If you were Dawn and Hank were Jason, you’d be pissed, too. But it does make you stop in your tracks.

“Oh, now you’re gonna show your face around here!?” Hank yells.

“Uh…I-I…live…here?” You question but the manor hasn't really felt like home since Jason died anyway.

“And I have a fucking bomb in my chest!” Hank yells. “You were there!”

“We know you and Jason are close, but you have to see this isn’t right.” Dawn crosses her arms.

You blink at them and suddenly you're back at the tower. Suddenly, you're in Jason’s shoes. You never understood where their issue was with him then and you never ever got to understand. But, you tried. You tried to rationalize why Jason. Why did they pick him to target? Rachel was the good kid and Jason was the troublemaker. Jason was an asshole. Maybe. But you're looking at the two of them with a cut on your forehead and bruised knuckles, knowing you passed out and you're being blamed for something you didn’t even do. It was never Jason. It was always just someone to blame.

“W-what?” You ask as you feel the lump grow in your throat.

“Hank said he saw you there.” Kory explains.

“Why were you there?” Dick asks, his voice sterner than Kory but he wants to believe Sam didn't have anything to do with this.

It's actually breaking a part of you with everyone looking at you like that. They're pointing the finger at you and it hurts. You're supposed to trust them but they didn't even ask. You were passed out on the fucking floor and Hank assumes you took a nap, apparently, and they all just believe that. You might side with Jason but they can't really believe you would help him put a bomb in Hank's chest or even let him do it.

“I…I…I can’t….I can’t tell you.” You sputter as you shake your head. “But I didn’t know that’s what he was doing. You-you have to believe me.” You croak out as your eyes start to turn glassy.

“Just like we should believe you didn’t know he was alive?” Hank barks.

“You need to calm down.” Dawn whispers to him.

“Fuck that shit! She’s in on this! I bet he sent her here to make sure I die!”

“You guys can’t really believe she would do that, right?” Gar finally pipes up. He remembers what happened with Jason and he knows you're always on the edge of something terrible. He doesn’t want that edge to become literal.

“Why else would she have been there?” Dawn asks.

"Does it matter?" Gar asks but he keeps his voice soft and gentle because he still hates arguing. "She's hurt and that should mean something, right? You guys didn't ask, just jumped to conclusions." Gar's voice starts to go quiet. "Like with Jason."

You snap your attention to him as Gar's stare goes to the floor. Your heart breaks for him but you owe him for trying to defend you. You know how much he hates it. And you think maybe you'll tell him because he deserves it.

"It all seems real fucking convenient doesn't it?" Hank barks back, not falling for Gar siding with you. "It was all a set-up!"

“I went to fucking confront him.” You scoff but it comes out weak. “Are we really doing this? I didn’t fucking know about the fucking bomb or that Hank was even going to be there.”

“Bullshit! I said I’d kill him. I bet you tipped him off and that’s why this happened.” Hank gestures aggressively to his chest.

You grit your teeth as you look desperately to Dick before looking back to Hank. “Fuck you.” You sniffle. “You know what, fine. You wanna know what happened? I went to confront him high as fuck and I saw you. We fucking fought because while high, I knew I couldn’t let him kill you because he wouldn’t let me kill Jerry and I knew it’d piss him off.”

“Wow.” Kory huffs softly as she looks to the ground, placing a hand on her hip. But, she looks up quickly at you. "Wait, you were high?" Kory asks with confusion.

Your eyes glance to Gar and then Dick before landing on Kory. "I'm tired of feeling like this." Desperation coats your words. The comedown sucked and being angry also sucked, but maybe Jason's right. Maybe that is better than feeling like this and scared and paranoid. Maybe he's right. “Look, we fucking fought, I passed out and I came back here when I came to. So, fuck you." You look back to Hank.”

“Right, but you’re killing—“ Dawn tries to argue.

“Critiera. I have a criteria and Hank doesn’t fucking meet it. I can’t let my personal bias come in the fucking way." You turn your attention back to Hank. "You don’t meet it. You don’t deserve to fucking die even though you’re a piece of fucking shit who doesn’t learn from his mistakes.” You bark. “You figure out the bomb yet?” You look to Dick.

“No, just that it’s counting down his heartbeats.” Dick answers plainly.

“Wayne Enterprises.” You state. “I saw the blueprints before I passed out. Bet if you look into it, you can find a way to build a deactivator or whatever.” You look back to Hank. “I hope you live so Jason doesn’t have to deal with the guilt. And I did tell him you were gonna kill him…. after he had the bomb in your chest. Let me know if dies, I guess.” You scoff as you turn around and start to head out of the Batcave.

Gar looks at all of the Titans and he doesn't like seeing his friends targeted. He knows that Hank was just targeted by his best friend but you didn't do anything. It's not your fault what Jason does. You don't control him and Gar thinks it's wrong for them to attack you for it. So, he follows you up to the main living room.

You suck in a deep breath as your hands shake at your sides. Dick, Kory, and Conner didn't accuse you of anything but they weren't really on your side either. And it feels like you're being abandoned and you're reminded why you always left first. It was so much easier than feeling like this. It doesn't hurt when you're the one that leaves. It doesn't hurt like this. So, your fists ball at your sides as your nails dig into your palms and your jaw clenches. All you want is to go back to before and pause time. Why is that so much to ask for?

"Are you okay?" Gar asks quietly from behind you.

You hang your head and at least you have Gar. He might not always get it but he at least tries to. And you really hope, after all of this, you don't lose him either. You want to tell him but then you'd put him in the middle. You're standing in the middle of it all right now and it is absolute hell. You can't put that on Gar. But, you can vent and you say a little bit of what happened so you turn around to face him with the shake of your head.

"No! I had to fucking fight Jason because of fucking Hank!" You scrunch your nose in disgust. "That's fucking stupid! And I can't even fucking say how the hell that shit happened or what happened because I am terrified if I tell anyone knew what the fuck I know it could get him killed." You pause as you watch Gar's face soften. "But, he put a bomb in Hank's chest and he's an ass but he doesn't deserve to die." You suck in a ragged breath. "So, I fought him and we were both fucking high and we said some really horrible shit to each other and I have no idea how we're supposed to come back from that or how he's ever going to forgive me."

Gar nods with understanding and he really wishes he knew what was going on. "What did you guys say to each other?"

"I asked him where Rose was and, uh, maybe that's why she left him...to protect herself because takes low blows. He said I was using him, we were a mistake, I made him worse. Just... we both said a to."

Gar shakes his head, trying to process what he's being told. That doesn't sound like either of you. "Why would you guys even say that stuff to each other? I mean...Jason could be an asshole but he didn't say that kind to stuff to you."

"Yeah," You nod. "The, uh, the drug. It's the one he made and uh...it's not a normal drug like...it, uh, it makes people do things I think that they wouldn't normally. I think that's why Hank has a bomb in his chest. It's why we fought, too." You confess, figuring maybe that's enough of an explanation to clue Gar in a little bit but not too much that he immediately goes to Dick.

But Gar is just growing more confused. The two of you have talked about addiction before. You had stories like the one time with your dad and your dad being an addict. But, you talked about other kids on the streets. Gar kind of thought maybe everything that happened to you made you never want to take anything but now you're out here not only taking a drug but making it. Just like Jason. None of it makes sense.

"Why would you take it?"

"I can't tell you." You mutter as you hang your head. "I won't again, promise. It was for science." You suck in a breath as Gar scrunches his face in more confusion. "But...I know if we can get him off of it, we'll get him back."

"So, the Jason we know is still there?" Gar asks with hope in his eyes.

"Yeah, as if you really lost faith in him anyway." You manage a weak laugh earning you a soft smile from Gar.

"I have to believe he's in there somewhere. Even if no one else but you does." Gar nods his head softly.

"Yeah," You suck in a breath. "I know it's weird to think, now, I guess but...if we get him back...how do we come back from that?" You ask as you furrow your brows. "I mean, what we said, what he thinks of me." You watch Gar's brows furrow. "I think his partner is manipulating him and using Jason's trust in me against him. Just...based on what he said." You shake your head. "It's nothing but...ya know? Fought each other."

"Well, everyone tried to kill me once and we're all okay now." Gar tries to chuckle softly. "If the drug is what you say it is, maybe that's the end of it. We all know that's not really Jason. He would never hurt you, on accident or on purpose. And you wouldn't either. Maybe you guys just talk. You always got Jason to." Gar offers a soft smile.

"Yeah," You smile weakly. "I guess that's true."

"I'm sorry you guys fought though." Gar offers a sympathetic look just as Dick comes rushing through the clock, coming to a dead stop as he sees you both.

You readjust your stance as you look to the floor.

Dick lets out a sigh and he does not have time for this but he has to ask. "Did you know?"

You shake your head as your eyes meet his. "I fucking swear I didn't. I would have called you."

Dick nods and he believes you. He doesn't agree with your morals but killing Hank seems a little off even for you. Even when it comes to Jason. When you explained your criteria to him, it seemed to matter enough to you. You mentioned it downstairs. You're not lying.

"Okay. You guys go back to the Cave once Dawn and Kory have Hank in a room. Help Conner if you can and just stay away from Hank." Dick goes to walk away but then stops, looking back at you. "Did you find anything out?"

You nod hesitantly. "I, uh, I don't think it'd help with Hank though. If I thought so I'd tell you."

"Alright." Dick lets out a sigh before he heads off.

"Well," You clear your throat. "That fucking sucks." You state as you can hear Kory, Dawn, and Hank coming from the Batcave. "I'm gonna grab something from my room and I'll meet you downstairs." You offer a soft nod to Gar before you head down the hallway.

As the next three hours go by, Dawn takes off to steal the gold bars and give them to Jason. Dick goes after Dawn to try to stop her. Kory doesn't have any more answers about who brought Jason back from the dead which is a relief on your end. But, Connor still doesn't have the deactivor ready. It has to reach a 0% failure rate and he hasn't gotten that far yet.

You really hoped Jason would back out of it or he was just trying to get under the Titans' skin and none of it was real. But, as Hank's heartbeats dwindle down, you're starting to think he's really going to go through with this. He'll kill Hank and he can't just come back from that like he can with everything else. No one is going to care if Crane had him do it or not. It won't matter because Hank is a Titan. And you wonder what you're supposed to do.

If everything that happened today doesn't snap some sense into him, nothing you say or do will. It'll be up to Jason or the Titans to get him to stop taking the drug. Those will be the options. And you think maybe your only option will be to tell Dick everything you know. If anyone is going to know what to do, especially dealing with Jonathan Crane, it's going to be Dick. Maybe Crane will believe Dick figured it out on his own anyway. If Jason kills Hank, you don't think you can stand on his side anymore. It's the last thing you want to do but if he's willing to kill Hank, who knows what else he's willing to do and who else he's willing to kill. He will need to be stopped and you can't do it alone.

With only a few minutes left, Gar and you are seated watching Connor and the screen intently while you all have Dick on the comms. He found Dawn and she's with Jason. Jason tells Dawn all she has to do is shoot him and it'll save Hank. But, Dick is trying to convince her not to do it because Connor is almost there.

It comes down to just seconds when Connor finally gets the failure rate to 0%. He uses superspeed to rush through the manor while Gar and you get to your feet to watch on the monitor to Hank's room. But, just before Connor gets there, there's a thunder through the manor and the cameras go dead.

Gar and you keep your eyes on the screen as Kory runs up behind you both and pulls you both into a hug. Jason just killed Hank in cold blood. What are any of you even supposed to do now?

That night, no one has much to say. Dick informed everyone what actually happened. Jason set Dawn up so when she pulled the trigger, it detonated the bomb. It's uncomfortable listening to it. You listen but the only thing you really hear is that Jason just put Dawn through when you went through when Jason died. He knew what it did to you and then Jason still went and decided Dawn should deal with that pain and the guilt of it really being her fault. You're appalled and disgusted even though you know it's not really him. You just find yourself in a state of disbelief and fury. How could he do that to someone? After everything?

You were high and while you know, maybe you would have helped, you find it hard to believe you would. The drug is powerful and all-consuming but it was Jason's choice to take it. It was Jason's choice to go to Crane for help. It was all his choice. He had a choice here. And it lead him to kill Hank and put his blood on Dawn's hands. Crane might be manipulating him but between him and the drug, Jason is turning into a shell of someone you used to know and you're thinking you don't want to know this version of him. And you think about the pit and maybe that's why it's so easy for Jason to bypass every moral he's ever had. Maybe the pit did take a part of his soul that day and that's just making it easier for Crane to turn him into this. Maybe this is who he is now.

And because of that, you know you have no other choice but to go to Dick.

You love Jason more than anything on the planet but that wasn't enough for him and maybe it's not enough for you either. You love the Titans, too and he's killing Hank and putting it on Dawn, maybe he is going to pick you all off one by one. You aren't going to sit here and watch it happen. You're not going to let him do it.

"Hey." Gar says quietly as he walks into the Batcave where you're staring, looking at the Robin suit.

"Hey, how you holding up?" You look back to him with sympathy. Gar was friends with Hank.

"Uh...ya know." Gar shrugs, standing beside you. "Sucks." Gar lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah." You answer shortly. "I'm sorry, Gar."

"It's not your fault." Gar lets out a sigh, looking to the ground and back to the suit. Bruce didn't get all of the blood out of it. There are still blotches of blood covering the R blade and the torso. He's tired of losing people, too. "What's wrong?" Gar asks, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "You only look at the suits when you're thinking." Gar glances to you but you keep your eyes on the bloodstains.

You shake your head. "He killed Hank by making Dawn pull the trigger. That's kind of fucked...so," You shrug your shoulders. "Guess I'm just...I'm gonna have to come clean to Dick and throw Jason under the bus which also sucks." The words stick to your tongue like shards of glass.

Gar shakes his head quickly, knitting his brows together as he snaps his attention to you. "What do you mean? You said you'd always be on his side."

One of the things that kept Gar hopeful was that you were at least still on Jason's side. As long as you believed in him, Gar knew Jason had to still be there. But, if you're willing to throw in the towel after everything, that means that's it. It can't be it.

"He killed Hank." You look at Gar as you shrug. "He can't just kill innocent people."

"Yeah but..." Gar pauses, trying to figure out how he's going to argue with that. He agrees but if you give up, who does Jason have? Maybe he still needs someone in his corner. "You said he's still there. We just have to get through to him."

"Yeah, and then he did this. I begged him not to and that wasn't enough to get through to him." You argue. "So, I give up."

Gar doesn't get it. You're the one person who's always on Jason's side. He knows this is fucked up. But he still believes his best friend is in there somewhere. Someone like Jason doesn't just go bad. They lived down the hall from each other and Gar knows him, too. Jason Todd is in there someone and he has to believe that. But you don't and it hurts. How can you give up?

"You love him. You can't...you can't really be giving up on him." Gar stutters as his heart breaks. "You always said you wouldn't and...I don't know. I get it but..." Gar shakes his head.

Gar's words strike a nerve. It's hard enough. It's not that you're giving up because you're not. You're going to Dick and that is to get him back. You can't do it on your own and you can't keep Jason's secrets for him anymore. It's not helping him, you, or the Titans. All it's doing is getting everyone else hurt or killed. You aren't giving up entirely but the idea that you shouldn't just because you love him pisses you off because it wasn't enough for Jason.

He gave up on you long before you ever had the chance to give up on him.

"Yeah—" You bite down, crunching your teeth together so hard you swear your teeth are going to shatter through your lips. "What if loving him isn't fucking enough, Gar!? Cause it sure as shit wasn't enough for him."

It wasn't enough to keep him here with you. It wasn't enough to keep him on solid ground. You know you will never be the same as Bruce or Dick. Their approval meant something different to him and that is fine. You accept that. But you don't know how your love for him wasn't enough to keep him at least trying to be safe. At least trying to just exist. You want to know why your love for him wasn't enough for him to consider your feelings. You want to know why love just wasn't enough. It should have been but it wasn't. It was always enough for you to not give up even when you wanted to. So, why the fuck wasn't it enough for him?

"I know you can't believe that. It's always been you and him." Gar shakes his head. "He's going through some shit. I don't think that's what it was. You said it was his partner and the drug. We just have to get him off it and away from them."

"Yeah, but..." Sam's bottom lip starts to quiver. "But why wasn't me loving him enough?" Her words break and tears leak from her eyes like a warm down faucet. Steady drops of broken. "Why wasn't my love for him enough?" You pause as you take a deep breath. "He did all of this!" You throw your hands out. "Without me. Without ever telling me shit and we were supposed to be a fucking team. Me loving him isn't fucking enough and it wasn't enough for him to fucking stay alive or say goodbye or come home when he had the chance."

Gar hangs his head and he wishes he had an answer but he doesn't. "I don't know but Jason has always been Jason." Gar's voice is quiet. "Maybe it was enough for him but he has more going on. I think you know why it wasn't enough but you don't want to admit it." Gar snips slightly. "You always knew whatever he was thinking and he did with you. That's why you know how to get him back!" Gar protests. "It's why Dick hasn't been fighting you and why Kory hasn't. We know that you can get him back and it sucks that you have to deal with it. But, it's Jason." Gart shakes his head. "We just have to get him away from his partner and the drug. We can get him back."

You look back to the suit because you know he's right. It's not fair to stand here and point a finger saying he doesn't love you enough. You know it's ridiculous but you're hurt and you want the blame off of your own shoulders. But, deep down you already think you know why it feels the way it does.

Things get good and it's a lot easier to run away from them and hurt them first before they ever have the chance to hurt you. Maybe that is what it boils down to. Jason got traumatized and doesn't know how to handle his problems. Bruce made him feel like Robin was the only thing he'd ever be good at and he was nothing without that mantle. So, it gets taken away and Jason's back to being that kid on the streets with nothing but a list of people who throw in the towel when things get a little too hard. Maybe he did it to protect you sure, but maybe it was also easier keeping you in the dark so you'd leave if you were going to anyway. He did what he always does. This time though, it's more than pushing one person away. It was desperation to be better, to heal his own mental illness by taking a shortcut and sacrificing pieces of himself. It's not about you, you were just collateral damage and you know that. And you aren't sure that makes it any better.

"I have been trying desperately to get through to him and it doesn't fucking work. He's stubborn as all fucking hell and he's really digging his feet in and I think he's doing on purpose. Jason Todd was always really good at self-destruction so maybe we fucking let him. Maybe we just let him blow himself up and see where that gets him. Maybe he needs to hit fucking rock bottom where his partner turns on him. Maybe he needs it. If me begging him and fighting him isn't enough, then he's on his own. I can't bail him out of this one."

"I don't want you to regret it though." Gar shakes his head. "And I don't want to lose him. Just yesterday you were the one that said you were scared to tell Dick in case it got him killed." Gar nearly pleads with you.

"I know but I am also worried that he's going to pick you guys off one by one. And..." You shake your head. "That's not fair to you guys. I am scared he's going to get himself killed but I can't just...watch him do this shit and not do anything. We're supposed to protect people." You urge. "We are supposed to protect people and right now, the Titans are the ones who need to be protected from him. Jason needs help, too but I don't know what else to do unless you have a better idea. You know Dick doesn't want him dead."

"It sucks, okay? All of this sucks!" Gar yells. "Losing Hank, Rachel is off trying to bring Donna back and I don't even know if she can do that, Donna is dead. Dawn is leaving forever. Jason is losing his mind and now you're giving up! This sucks! We're supposed to be a team and we're supposed to help each other. But, now Jason is killing Hank and everyone else wants to go after Jason. And now you want to help! I don't want to lose more of you guys. You guys are the only family I have." Gar's voice grows defeated and he didn't think being a Titan would look like this.

You pause for a few seconds and Gar never yells. "You know I wouldn't do anything involving Jason without thinking it through. Dick will know what to do and I'll make him promise not to kill him. We go after Jason to get to his partner. We get the partner and we get Jason. I have a plan."

"You do?" Gar asks cautiously, unsure if you're just saying it to make him feel better.

"Of course, I do." You huff. "I didn't sleep. I was thinking. Dick is not going to like my plan and neither are you. But I have a plan. You guys are my only family, plus Molly, I get it. Fuck Hank, ya know? But he was one of the Titans." You shake your head. "I give up on bailing him out of this shit but I'm not giving up on trying to help." You suck in a breath. "He wouldn't if it were me."

"Yeah, true." Gar nods softly. "So, you're just...going to tell Dick about the drug and his partner?" Gar asks.

"Yep." You nod. "That is going to be a fun conversation." You roll your eyes. "Wonder if he'll lecture me then or later about the drug." You offer a soft smile to Gar who just glares. "Yeah, yeah, yeah I know. It was dumb." You mock.

"Yeah, seriously, please don't go do that again." Gar states softly.

"Of course, not. We see where that leads us." You widen your eyes, looking back to the suit.

"Right." Gar nods slowly before taking in a deep breath. "I'm...I'm gonna make a pizza, do you wanna help?" Gar asks.

"Uh, I'm okay. I'm just gonna wait for Dick to get back. Rip the band-aid off type of deal."

Gar nods softly. "Let me know how it goes." Gar smiles softly before he heads out of the Batcave.

You sit on the front steps of the manor, waiting for Dick to get home from taking Dawn to the airport. You run through a whole speech to give to Dick. There is still that fear that if you tell Dick about Crane, maybe Crane will snap and think Jason turned on him and he'll have him killed. Crane is completely insane and that could happen. But, you know it's the right thing to do anyway. It might feel like a betrayal and it is. But, you have to do it. You just hope that when Jason finds out you went to Dick, one day he'll understand. Maybe when he's sober he'll understand. Jason can be really understanding and forgiving. You beg he'll understand one day.

The black car pulls right up to the manor and Dick spots you as you straighten your posture. He shuts the car off and sucks in a deep breath. You sitting on the front steps, seemingly waiting for him, seems like it's going to be bad news. Anytime you want to talk to him, it's usually something not good. Dick lets out a sigh, hanging his head for a second before pulling the keys from the ignition and exiting the vehicle. He walks up to the front steps, looking down at you as you offer him a nervous grin.

"Hey." You state cautiously.

"What's going on?" Dick asks.

You clear your throat as you get to your feet. "If I tell you who Jason is working with and what the drug does....can you promise me something?" You ask as Dick's eyes widen slightly.

Of all people, he didn't ever really expect you to come clean with anything.

"What is it?" Dick asks.

"Um...can you promise you won't kill him and that Kory and Conner won't either?" You ask as you tug your sleeves over your hands. "I know, okay? I know what he just did was fucking fucked, okay? I know. But...it's not...it's not really all him and I just...he's your brother and you took me in. And I...I don't..." You shake your head. "I can't lose him again, okay? So, you gotta promise you guys won't kill him and that we'll do everything in the world to make sure this shit doesn't get him killed again, okay? That's the only way I can tell you anything."

"I don't want to kill him." Dick's words are stern. "He just killed Hank." Dick pauses and he sees your eyes water and your weight shift between your feet. Jason was Dick's responsibility and some of this is still on Dick. "Okay." Dick nods. "I won't kill him and I'll talk to Kory."

That's all you needed to start talking. All you needed was the confirmation that they're going to make sure Jason doesn't die again. Jason still deserves a chance here. Everything is a mess and he's really messed up big time but that doesn't mean he shouldn't get a chance at something better. And at the end of it all, you still think Jason deserves his chance at being happy and safe and healthy. He just needs to get through this shit.

"Okay." You say hesitantly. "Um...so, you know Jason likes to play games." You states. "Well, the formula, the reason you didn't know what it was, it was coded. It was just a game. I think he expected you to find it." You explain. "But, then you gave it to me and I brought to a friend of mine who's a genius and he helped me crack it."

"He coded the damn formula and you figured it out?" Dick questions.

"Yes, he did and no, Tim did which by the way," You laugh softly. "Good luck with that one. He knows you're Nightwing, Robin 1.0. Jason was Robin 2.0. I'm Bluejay and Bruce is Batman. I denied it but he's got research on all of us and the Titans. He knows. So, good luck with that, dumbass."

Dick blinks at you for a second. He was so careful, how could someone figure out who he is? Bruce was even more careful than he was. No one has ever figured it out and now you suddenly know someone who knows? How did that even happen? Dick really does not have time for this.

"What? How does he know?" Dick almost demands.

"Yeah, uh, you can perform a trapeze trick that only you and your dad could perform. Nightwing also performs that same trick. Like I said, figure out you're Robin and the other pieces just come together." You shrug. "Which is how he figured the rest of us out. So, good job. I denied it of course but let me tell you, he's a genius and he definitely isn't going to let it rest. We used to guess who Robin and Batman were. He had theories and so did I. So, good luck dealing with that."

"Great." Dick scoffs. Dick can't help but think coming back to Gotham might have been a little bit of a bad idea. How he is stuck dealing with all of this at the same time? Can't he just catch a break? "Continue."

"Right, so he cracked it for me and it's fear. So, naturally, I go to his lab and make the drug and I take it."

Dick lets out a sigh as he looks to the ground. "I can't believe you went and made and then took Jason's drug. What if it were a setup?" Dick places a hand on his hip and you almost laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't do drugs and that's bad science. Lecture me later. That's not the point of this." You scrunch your nose. "Well, I didn't feel scared or paranoid or worried. I didn't feel much of anything besides anger. That was still there. So, Jason made a drug that cures fear."

Dick watches you carefully and he only knows one person that could make a drug that could cure fear. "You've got to be kidding me." Dick holds the bridge of his nose. "Jonathan Crane." Dick scoffs. "He's working with Jonathan Crane?" Dick nearly starts yelling.

"Yep." You roll your eyes. "So I confronted him. That's when I found Hank and I yelled at him and questioned why he'd work with Crane. He said Crane helped him and made him better, that Crane actually cares about him unlike you, Bruce, and me. So, he's been working with Crane and making an anti-fear drug and Crane is manipulating him and doing a damn good job." You explain. "He was high the day he went after the Joker. It's what got him killed. I think Crane probably planned for it. Expected Jason to die that night and the only one not in the loop was Jason."

"So, Crane could use the excuse of him bringing Jason back." Dick finishes. "Why would Jason go to Crane in the first place?" Dick asks and for the life of him, he can't figure out what would lead Jason to Crane.

Jason has always been troubled and had his issues but this just seems crazy. Jason knows the risks of Jonathan Crane, Dick does. At least Jason going after the Joker finally makes sense. Dick knows Jason wasn't that reckless but working with Crane?

"He was freezing on patrol. Getting hurt all the time. Nightmares, shaking hands. His leg pain was still there. Bruce took Robin away. Dick, it was bad for him. Like...really fucking bad. I guess he was desperate enough. I had no idea he was doing this shit. I was ready to call you and come back, with him."

Dick pauses for a few seconds as he starts to think and he knows why Crane has been so helpful now. It's to put the entire target on Jason and keep Crane out of the limelight until the time is right. It's how Crane always functioned and Jason and Dick fell right into the trap.

"Okay, so, why did he target Hank and not you? You know. You took his drug. Crane is going want to seclude him from everyone that cares about him. That's not Hank, that's you." Dick points out and he's also trying to make sure you're really coming clean. At the end of the day, you've been the one on Jason's side and it's hard for Dick to believe you're just turning over a new leaf over Hank Hall.

"Oh, have no fear, Dickolas, thought of that, too." You state. "Hank was enough to set the Titans off. Piss everyone off and target Jason entirely, leaves Crane out of it. As for me, though, I think Jason still has a line and I'm the line. I threw the first punch yesterday, not him. We both know if Jason didn't pull his punches, I'd have more than a few bruises. But, I think Crane is trying to turn him against me, too. Like you said, seclude him."

"What did he say?" Dick asks.

"Um...that I liked him better before? That Crane was right about me. Whatever the fuck that means. He also said I was using him?" You roll your eyes. "I think Crane is trying but there's a part of Jason that knows it's bullshit."

"Right, okay." Dick nods. "So, how does the drug work? If he can refrain from hurting you, couldn't he refrain from killing Hank?"

"I don't think it works like that. He asked me if I wanted to help and I almost did because I was already mad at Hank. I would never do that otherwise. It's like the only thing you want to do is hurt someone else because it's thrilling. You don't feel much of anything but anger when something sets you off. And it can be something small that sends you into a rage, it did for me. I'm thinking it works the same for Jason. I didn't care that I was hurting him or that we were fighting. I didn't care. I didn't even care that he was gonna kill Hank. But, I still didn't want to hurt him. There was something that still kept me from actually physically hurting him. I could have but I didn't. I think he has some restraint but I think if Crane picks at those parts of him, he'll crack."

"It's the exact opposite of the fear gas while still letting Crane reap the benefits." Dick lets out a scoff, almost mad at himself he didn't figure it out sooner. "Jason said Crane was right about you." Dick states. "Did Jason tell him about all of us?"

"I don't know. We didn't really talk about it but I'm guessing he did. I'm not sure what else he would mean by Crane being right about us."

"That's why Crane is helping him. Jason gets the cure to fear and Crane gets information on all of us and Bruce." Dick shakes his head. "It's a mutual benefit." Dick scoffs and he's growing more mad at Jason for going to Crane in the first place. If Jason wanted to fuck up his life, that's on him but now he's dragged everyone else down with him. And for what?

"Yep." You nod your head. "Look, Crane is gonna lose it eventually, it's what he does. We gotta get to Jason before that happens. I don't know how to do that alone. It's one of the reasons I'm telling you."

"I'm guessing you have an idea though."

"Well, if we break into Arkham and kill Crane..."

"No." Dick states. "We're not going to kill him."

"But, literally all of our problems would be solved if you let me do it." You nod. "Like, ya know, in and out. Boom, dead. Jason comes back home. It's a win."

"We're not killing people." Dick states. "Besides, we'll need Jason first. If he's as far gone as it sounds, he'll think we're doing it to spite him and then what? We need to know what Crane has planned. The last time Crane was up to something, he had the entire system rigged with his fear gas. If you go and kill him before we know the plan, he could release the new drug and then what happens?"

You narrow your eyes but nod. "Yeah, that's true. I didn't think of that. So, what do we do then?"

"Well, I'll need to get to Crane." Dick states.

"We." You correct him as you cross your arms. "You're not gonna do this alone. It involves Jason so you involve me. If not, any new information I get, I keep to myself."

Dick doesn't want you involved. None of this should even be the Titans business. This should remain between him and Jason. Based on everything Crane has already told Dick, putting this on Jason, it does seem as though Dick is supposed to be Jason's target somewhere down the line. It's supposed to be between them. But, you've lodged yourself in the middle of it and he remembers San Francisco.

"Fine, but you do what I say." Dick warns.

"Deal." You mock him with wide eyes.

Just then Dick gets a phone call from Babs. Apparently, there was a targeted attack on Crane last night in Arkham by Red Hood. For his own safety, he's being transferred today to Blackgate. And Dick thinks you don't have to break him out. He'll already be accessible.

"Go get your suit. I have a plan." Dick states as he turns back towards the car.

"Uh...yeah, okay?" You question quickly before you spin around and dart into the manor before Dick can change his mind.

Dick and you head off to Arkham Asylum as you wait for Crane to be transferred. On the way, Dick clued you in on what was going on and what Babs told him. Dick's new plan is actually to kidnap Crane and hold him hostage. You and Dick are going to lure Jason out to the cabin where some of their Robin training took place. It's secluded, away from everyone else who could get hurt and Jason will know exactly where to go. Dick knows those woods like the back of his hand. It's an even playing field for the two of them. And you're thrilled.

You have yet to meet Crane face to face but you already hate him. You hate what he did to the city even if you admire the creativity of a fear gas. But, he's insane and you've got a real problem with anyone who turns other innocent people into monsters, especially by using their own pain against them. It's exactly what he's been doing to Jason. Holding Crane hostage, might be fun for you. And at the end of this, maybe it'll work and you'll get Jason back. But, you're trying not to bank on that. The plans don't always seem to go as planned.

The two of you watch as the guards bring out Crane and that's when Dick gives you the all-clear. The two of you head off towards the transport van, sneaking around pillars and other cars to remain undetected. Dick is the first to make the move and grab the guard near the driver's side of the van. You then go after the one coming from the back of them. Dick and you both knock the two men unconscious and leave them on the ground before heading to the back of the van.

Dick takes down the last guard before he opens the back of the van to reveal Jonathan Crane looking somewhere between confused and worried. Your fists ball at your sides as your teeth grit and he's definitely made his way to the top of your list.

"Let's go." Dick states turning around and walking away.

You glare at him for a few more seconds and you debate for just a split second on shooting acid at him or throwing a knife. One swift move and it'd be over for him. It would be over for Jason. But Dick is right. If he has something planned to poison the city, you need to know. So, you roll your eyes and turn around, following Dick to the car while Crane scurries out of the van to follow the two of you.

Dick opens the passenger door for Crane while you get in the back. Crane offers you a displeased smile as you grimace at him. Dick gets back in the car, sending you a quick but warning glance before he starts the car again.

The drive is quiet at first, Dick and you wanting to not say a word to Crane or each other with him in the car. Instead, Dick focuses on just getting you all to the cabin and how he'll handle the aftermath of everything. You, on the other hand, think about how mad Jason is going to be when he finds out you're here. It's going to be another problem to sort out but he'll understand later because he has to. And you focus all of your anger and worry on Crane. The hit was on purpose so Jason could break him out which means some part of their plan is coming together and you focus your anger on that. It's a lot easier to be angry with Crane than worry about Jason and how this plan could go south.

After awhile though, apparently, Crane gets tired of the quiet.

"I'm an Alfa man myself. Those Italians, those lines, that flair...the sprezzatura. It's a term. It means the art of making something complicated look easy. Like that trail of bodies you guys left back there. You didn't even break a sweat, did you? Like old pros. See, now that is sprezzatura." Crane states with ease but he pauses for a second, looking over to Dick and spotting a gun. "Look, I don't need to worry about that piece you nicked from the B.O.P. back there, do I? I mean you wouldn't shoot a bound and defenseless man now, would you?"

"Depends." Dick keeps his eyes on the road, offering Crane no emotion.

"I would." You state with enthusiasm from the backseat.

Crane looks back at you with a slight scowl. "That is not very nice."

"I'm not nice." You quip with a chortle.

"So, just bad cop and bad cop, huh?" Crane asks but all he gets is a shrug and an eyebrow raise from you. "Are you his little sidekick?"

"No." You scoff. "Shut the fuck up before I make you."

Dick glances in the mirror, giving you another warning look. You mock the look right back.

"She is a feisty one, isn't she?" Crane looks at Dick.

"Shut up." Dick groans.

Jason saw you with Dick as you left Arkham. That little voice is the back of head that Crane has triggered gets a little bit louder. Of all people, you're going to work with Dick. He's told you to stay out of it but you won't. You know Jason is going to go after Dick and yet here you are, kidnapping his new mentor who actually cares about him with Dick. With his older brother. The original Robin. That's when Jason is piecing together maybe you have ditched your loyalty to him and moved with the Titans. You swore you wouldn't and he is ready to explode.

Jason: teaming up with Dick now?

He doesn't know why he texts it. He doesn't know exactly why he's going to bother because you'll lie to him anyway. You always swore you wouldn't but he knows if you are working with him, you'll lie to him. But, there's something inside of him that has to ask you anyway. He wants to know why. You hated Hank, too. And in that moment of being high, you understood it. That can't be the only reason you'd suddenly be on Dick's side. You're never on his side.

You: no.

Jason nearly groans out loud with the simple response.

Jason: why are you with him then? kidnapping crane?

You: involves you, Dick is pissed about Hank just making sure you don't kill each other

Jason doesn't buy it. It is never as simple as making sure people get along with you. That was always Gar's job. If it were about making sure they don't kill each other, you'd have Gar. That's not it. Jason is starting to wonder if you're just going after Crane. Maybe Crane is your target and Jason is Dick's. Maybe you're in this together. You and Dick have to be.

You: maybe I want a shot Crane

Jason grins softly at his phone as he looks up the gloomy sky above Gotham. Jason isn't going to let you kill Crane and he's betting Dick won't either. Dick is smarter than that and he'll know there's a bigger plan and Crane won't give it up. But, he finds it amusing because maybe that is just your motive. It is a very you motive to have in order to tag along.

Jason: you won't kill him

You: lol that a bet?

Jason: I'm serious

You: So am I

Jason: be careful

You: you be careful

Jason: this is between us not you Jason: if you're there for Crane leave dick to me

He says it on purpose. Fine, if you want your shot at Crane, you can take it. Jason knows you won't do it. You didn't get to kill the Joker and you think Crane is bad for Jason and he's turning Jason into something he's not. Jason firmly believes you'd offer Jason the shot instead of taking it yourself. So, he says it on purpose just to see if you'll actually go after Crane or if you'll go against Jason and protect Dick. He says it just to see which side you're really on. If you protect Dick, he has his answer and Crane is right.

You: involves you so it does involve me and yeah that wasn't convincing. Don't kill him that's tragic just like I said in San Fran two Robins fighting

Jason: stay out of it

You: don't fucking shoot me

Jason: how do you know I'll show up?

You: revenge on Dick, we have Crane, I'm here, you can't resist a good challenge

Jason: lol yeah

You put your phone back in your pocket and keep your conversation between you, just that. Crane doesn't need to know he texted you. That might be bad. But, you already have a feeling what Jason is doing. Ever since he came back, it's been about what side you're on. He's making you choose and while you're here with Dick, you're just trying to do what's in Jason's best interest. Despite your conversation with Gar, you aren't giving up. You aren't completely picking sides. If this blows up and Jason gets away, you can always keep to the story that you were just there to make sure they didn't kill each other. What Jason doesn't know, can't hurt him.

The speakers start ringing through the car as Dick glances to the screen. Dick's lets out a sigh before he tabs the answer button on the screen.

"Hello?" Dick states.

"Where are you, Dick?" Barbara asks.

"Change of plans." Dick states and you want to know how he's able to remain so emotionless.

"Bring Crane back." Barbara demands.

"I will." Dick states casually.

"I'd get that in writing if I were you." Crane states.

"Shut up!" You groan.

"You brought Y/n with you, seriously? And is that him listening?"

"I volunteered." You chime.

"Yo, Babs." Crane chimes back.

"Jesus, Dick. I need Crane back here right now."

Dick looks to Crane and he's definitely not bringing Crane back. "Gotta go." Dick states before he hangs up, earning a snort from you.

"She's gonna kill you." You chuckle.

"I overheard the police talking about what happened...to that Hawk fellow." Crane states.

Dick scrunches his face, taking a harsh turn around a corner, you grabbing the Oh Shit handle from the back.

"Red Hood is a monster. We've both got proof of that now. But I can still help you. You know, just let me know what I can do."

"You can shut up." Dick states. "Enjoy the sprezzatura."

You smile widely from the back seat. You like this version of Dick. It's more fun.

After a while longer in the car, you finally start to pull into the woods. You adjust yourself to look out of the window as Dick drives. He's driving through a clearing but it is surrounded by trees and overgrown grass. Sometimes, you forget the insanity Bruce put Jason and Dick through in order to let them be Robin but as you watch the trees grow thicker the further Dick drives, you remember. Jason didn't talk much about the cabin. The most he said was that it was brutal. Maybe a part of you doesn't want to know what he went through.

Dick finally stops the car outside of a chain that's chained to two posts, blocking off the rest of the path.

"Let me go." Crane states.

"Not gonna happen." Dick says.

Dick gets out of the car, leaving Crane and you. Dick unlocks the chain while Crane decides he's going to try and make a run for it. He glances back to you before quickly unlocking the door and bolting out of the car as quickly as he can with his hands still cuffed in front of him. You start laughing as you get out of the back of the car, resting your arm on the open door.

"Oh, so he's stupid, stupid?" You cackle as you look over to Dick.

"Guess so." Dick chuckles, jerking his head toward the woods. "Bruce has the place rigged. He has to know that." Dick says, amusement in his voice as you btoh start walking in the direction Crane ran.

"Yeah, that's what Jason said." You laugh softly. "Part of your training was to avoid them." You mock softly as you hear Crane yell from a few yards ahead of you. "So, Crane failed."

"Jason told you about this place?"

"Just that and that it was brutal. He told me about the other stuff, not really this." You suck in a breath, watching the leaves crunch beneath your shoes.

The two of you find Crane strung up in a net in the trees. Dick sticks his hands in his pockets looking only mildly amused while you're on the verge of bursting into a fit of laughter. If it were up to you, you'd just leave him there and let the birds of prey get to him. A slow and painful death sounds perfect for him.

"You're supposed to be smart but you didn't think there would be a trap?" You question as you look up to Crane who just glares down at you.

"Are you done now?" Dick asks, looking up to Crane.

Crane scowls at you btoh. Dick goes to cut him down and offers no warning before Crane falls right to the ground. You start laughing as you watch Crane groan from the ground.

"I find that funny." You beam down at him.

"You're not pleasant." Crane glares back at you.

"I know." Sam shrugs cheerfully. "Neither are you." You widen your eyes to mock him.

"Get up." Dick grabs Crane by the arm, dragging him to his feet. "Are you having fun?" Dick asks you.

"Yes, yes I am." You basically skip as the three of you start walking.

"Ah, is this where you carve up your victims?" Crane asks after a few minutes of walking, Dick pushing him from the back.

"Just keep walking." Dick states.

"Dick wouldn't make a good Leatherface. He's too nice." You grin wildly back at Crane before you gain a pep in your step. You don't see it but Dick almost grins.

The three of you get to the cabin and Dick plops Crane in a chair at the table before he chains him to the table. You take a seat at a chair to the left of Crane, mostly so he's in hitting distance in case he tries something again.

"It's not what you think it is." Crane warns. "Look, I had nothing to with what happened to your friend. What's his name, Hawk?"

"You don't get to talk about him." Dick threatens.

"It was Red Hood who did it. The kid's a monster."

You grit your teeth as Crane speaks. Jason isn't a fucking monster. He was never a monster. He was never a poison. He was never bad. He was always just a victim of everything around him and you're sick of people making him out to be this horrible, no good, and irredeemable person because that is not Jason Todd. And it shouldn't ever be.

"Bullshit! You were the one that made Jason into a monster." Dick yells back and a part of you almost lets out a breath of relief because finally, someone else sees it. "The attack at Arkham was a phony. It wasn't a hit. It was just an excuse to get your ass out of Blackgate. Red Hood's your protege. And I know he's coming here to save you."

"You may be overestimating him."

"He'll come. He knows this place." Dick states. "Bruce took him here, too. It's where he trained us." Dick says before he opens one of the cabinets, revealing monitors with feeds to cameras around the property. "We'll see him coming a mile away."

It's as if every time you find something more about Bruce, the more you think he's insane. You're pretty sure he didn't really need that many monitors or need to throw kids into the woods to train them.

"So, why would he walk into a trap?" Crane asks.

"Because he can't help himself. Because you made him feel invincible. Because I brought her." Dick glances to you and you almost scoff. You're only here because you have information and the ability to continue to get information.

"You think I changed him? Oh, buddy, no. I got news for you. That kid came to me broken, okay? All I did was rebuild him. And it was easy, too after what you did to him in SF. And that Titans business, what a twisted mind-fuck. I kind of wish I'd actually thought of that myself." Crane looks to you. "And you're using another kid. How did that work out last time?"

"He's not using me you fucking prick. He didn't want me to come." You grit your teeth at him. "Jason was never fucking broken."

That's the thing that even Jason never got. He was never broken. He wasn't damaged goods and he wasn't a poison. He was just Jason Todd and he had his problems but he wasn't broken. He was hurt and there is a very big difference between being broken and damaged and just being hurt. He never needed to be fixed.

"You didn't fucking fix him. He never needed to be fucking fixed. You just made him worse and then convinced him he was fixed." You bite back.

"Oh, is that right? Tell me, why didn't he come to you? He's better now, isn't he? He told me all about you." Crane taunts in a way that is almost effortless.

"No, he's not better and I'm willing to bet he didn't." You suck in a breath, trying desperately not to let Crane win. But, you really were never good about maintaining your temper when it comes to people you love.

"Acid generation, held captive, tortured. Dick found you. All that SF stuff, you were there. Right with him. You couldn't save him then."

Dick almost expects you to finally snap. Jason told Crane about you and that should have been his line to never cross. You have done everything in your power not to cross the line to loop Dick in and Dick actually wants to help. But then you just start grinning because if that's all Crane knows then he doesn't know everything. Which means, Jason was always just trying to keep you at a distance from him. A part of him didn't trust Crane enough and you're hoping you can peck at that like Crane's been doing to every other part of Jason.

"Yeah, all true." You nod your head. "But, you're wrong about him. And you're wrong about Dick, too." You deflect, trying not to give away Jason hiding something from him.

Dick takes his chance to get the conversation away from you. You shouldn't be bullied by Crane and you might snap if Crane continues. "It's not true. Whatever Jason told you."

"Isn't it? Isn't that what you do to all the young people that you fail? Abandon them. Or kill them. How is that little witch girl, by the way?" Crane questions. "Or the mute boy. Oh." Crane scoffs. "You must be so sorry about all of that now."

Dick isn't going to play into Crane's hand, it's what he wants. "Time to eat." Dick tosses him an unopened can of food "Watch him. I'm gonna get some wood." Dick states as he puts on his coat and heads out.

You watch as Crane looks at the label and rolls his eyes. As far as you're concerned, he should be thankful Dick tossed him any type of food to begin with. You wouldn't be feeding him. But you admire Dick's ability to stay calm and not feed into Crane's bullshit.

On the way to Arkham to grab him, Dick gave you an entire run down of dos and don'ts. Your research into him is just what Bruce had but it's nothing compared to actually meeting him as he tries to get inside of everyone's heads. Dick made it clear that Crane would try to say anything to convince you to side with him. He warned you about him being charismatic and a master manipulator, even though that part was in Bruce's file. And while you're listening to him, you do wonder why Dick is so good at it or at least pretending to be good at it.

"So, whose side are you really on?" Crane asks. "I find it hard to believe you're really working with Dick here."

"I guess you'll find out, won't you? Or does it matter? I'm guessing you told Jason I wasn't on his side anyway." You lean back in your chair as you cross your arms.

"Aren't you?" Crane asks. "You're here with him. Trying to use me to capture him. That does not sound like you're on his side." Crane raises his brows as if he's trying to seem innocent in his reasoning.

"I'm always on his side. You just like to manipulate people. Saving him from you is on his side. Me and Dick just have a mutual interest in the situation." You keep your voice level, trying to mimic Dick.

"Do you think he'll believe you? He hasn't taken your side yet. Like I said, he's a monster." Crane offers a delicate shrug of his shoulder and it almost sets you off. And Crane knows it because calling Jason broken already did.

"He's not a monster. You are. People who are manipulated and drugged into doing monstrous things are not monsters. But good try." You quip back.

"Drugged?" Crane questions, acting confused and you know you slipped.

How does Dick deal with him without giving anything away? But you're also good on your feet. You've always been good at thinking of lies and believable ones.

"Don't play dumb. That's how you got to him, right? Has to be. There's no other reason he'd be doing all of this. Jason gets tortured and ends up with PTSD. He dies, comes back, and works with you and now he's suddenly not having any PTSD symptoms. It's a drug, right? You said you fixed him." You shrug your shoulders as Crane gains a cornered grin.

"You are confident, aren't you? Tell me, what do you think he'll do when he sees you here? Do you think he will really just walk away from it all? I have news for you, you're not that important to him." Crane sneers back as you're starting to get under his skin.

"I know." You state, letting yourself hurt. If you don't sound hurt, he can go back and tell Jason you don't care. "But it's worth a shot anyway. And I want you to know, you are only alive right now because Dick is here. You're on my list."

"That's right. Bluejay, the hero turns killer. Sound familiar? You birds think you're above people like me but three of the four of you are killers now. Look how similar we are."

"Bruce killed a homicidal psychopathic sadist. I kill people who kill and hurt kids. You turned Jason into a killer. We are not the same."

"Are you making the rules for killing now? Oh, that's good. How's that working out for you? Do you think after this is over, Dick will let it slide? All the Titans? I think you'll be in a cell right next to mine."

"Nope. Nice try though. You can't manipulate me as much as you try." You offer him a sarcastic grin.

"How's this: your boyfriend came to me instead of you. He trusts me with his secrets more than you. He hasn't even looped you in or tried to get you on our side. He told me all about how you got together, too. He told me about your little friend Gar. The green fella. How you picked him over Jason. That's a cruel thing you did." Crane explains as you can feel your blood start to boil. "Honestly, he does deserve so much better than you just for that alone. You know, he hasn't mentioned you since. Looks like he means more to you than you do to him. Maybe he was the one using you." Crane shrugs his shoulders easily.

It shouldn't bother you because Crane is just doing what he does. He's trying to get under your skin to get you to snap or side with him. He's trying to get you to reveal your weaknesses so he can use them against you. You know. But, it's really difficult because even Crane saying it is confirmation to you. You know Jason deserves better. It was always a thought you had the entire time. But, it was the fact Jason chose you anyway and you chose him. Now, you're here though where it feels more like Crane might have a point. You aren't going to give that away though.

You lean forward towards Crane. "Look, I need you to understand this: I am coming for you. You can say whatever you want about Jason and why he came to you and whatever you wanna think. But one thing is certain, you are not going to make it out of this alive, Crane. I made a promise the day he died. I was going to come for every single person that made Jason Todd feel like he was not good enough, that he had something to prove, that made him believe he were a monster. I'm coming for you. You're alive now because of Dick, that is it. But once Dick gets what he wants, I'm going to kill you. Your days are numbered." You huff as you lean back in your seat.

"You won't do it." Crane taunts. "I matter to that boy of yours. You won't want him to leave you based on you not being able to control your killer instincts. I helped him with a cure. Do you think he'll forget that?"

"Then I'll live with the consequences. He'll understand one day and if I lose him, fine. But at least you can't fucking hurt him anymore."

"Like you have? It seems you've hurt him the most by not trusting him. I bet he's just devasted by you being here with Dick."

"Fuck you." You scoff.

"Yeah, that's right. You pretend to talk a big game but I know who you really are. You only look out for yourself. I get it. I really do. You had no choice out there on the streets and with your abusive foster father. It's your defense mechanism. Killing me isn't for Jason, it's for you. You can claim you saved him from me, a way to get to him and control him, use him the way you always have. Whenever something goes wrong, you go to him, don't you? You used him for the manor and the money. The weapons."

You suck in a breath and you think maybe Dick is just a better person than you are. He is, at the very least, more patient.

You get up and take a right hook to Crane's face as Crane yells out. You lean down, putting your hands on your knees. "You don't know who the fuck I am. Stop pretending like you do. Everything I do is not for me."

Crane spits blood onto the floor. "Really? Because this whole conversation you haven't said a word on how you feel about our boy. It's been about what you're going to do."

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to tell you how I feel about Jason? Or any details about us? You'll use it against me and him and I'm not desperate. I'm not falling for it. You don't get to know a damn thing about us from me."

"I already do." Crane grins wildly. "And I know how to get him to turn on you. I really hoped maybe you would come around to our side but...Jason will figure it out. I'll make sure of that."

You shouldn't do it and you know you shouldn't but you straighten your stance, pull your fist back, and punch him in the face again.

"You are so annoying." You groan as you take a step back just as the door opens.

Dick spots Crane hunched over in pain, spitting more blood onto the floor and you looking significantly more annoyed than when he left.

"Really?" Dick questions as he walks back in carrying firewood.

"If you didn't see that coming, that's on you, Dickolas." You sigh as you sit back down. "It was two punches, he's fine."

"I'm in pain!" Crane yells, gesturing with his cuffed hands.

"Oh, boo-hoo." You scrunch your face. "You're fine." You roll your eyes as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms.

Dick ignores the bickering as he gets the fire going. The room starts to fall silent but with Jonathan Crane around, the room can't remain quiet for very long. Apparently, Crane wants to try and work Dick again.

"So, what's your plan here?" Crane asks.

"I told you. Wait for Red Hood and take him out."

"No, I mean, I mean in Gotham. You stepping into Daddy's shoes? Now don't get me wrong, I mean, you know, we all want to please our parents. That's why I became a doctor. You see how well that worked out, right?" Crane chuckles softly.

"You actually think we're the same?" Dick asks as he takes off his coat.

"No, no, no. What I'm saying is that we all get stuck on this hamster wheel," Crane sighs. "Trying to live up to the expectations of others. We always think that it's gonna turn out...different but the outcome is somehow always the same."

"And is that what you told Jason?" Dick asks.

"No, I'm talking about you. You come back here and you wanna bathe Gotham in blood as if that's somehow a better outcome than anything that Batman ever did. Bruce was a psychopath. He was using fear to control everyone, including his sons. I mean, he did it to Jason and he did it to you. And you and Jason, you both use that fear. You wield it like a weapon, but it hurts people, right? It hurts people that you care about. Like Hawk. It's still Bruce's game. Isn't it? It always has been." Crane pauses as the room goes silent. "Is there something on your mind?"

Dick chuckles softly. "Fear is your friend."

"What's that?"

"Bruce used to say it." Dick states. "He said, 'Fear reveals your weakness...and it gives you the chance to make it your strength."

"Hmm." Crane hums. "And him being the man that is, he...needed to make sure that you were afraid, didn't he?"

"I was out here all alone once. Bruce made me go out into the forest by myself for the first time. I had no idea what was out there." Dick starts as he tells the story about being chased by a wolf and being terrified he was going to be eaten alive, Bruce nowhere to help him.

"You were just a boy and those were the lessons that he taught you." Crane lets out a sigh as he shakes his head. "It's not your fault. But you need to make sure that this doesn't happen to someone else. That it stops with you. Now you let Gotham take care of Gotham. The water will find its level. Stop trying to prove something here."

Before Dick can respond, the alarm starts going off about a perimeter break. Your heart sinks with the alarm. Jason really just can't help himself. He has to come and prove something. Maybe, just maybe, Crane might have a point about that, actually. You hate to even think that but...Jason just showed up to prove something. He went to Crane to prove to Bruce he was good enough. Crane might be an asshole but he is making a little bit of a point, actually.

"But, the thing about that is, I've already proved myself." Dick states. "That night when I was a kid...without Bruce." Dick finishes the story, saying he was the one that killed the wolf with all the gory details. "I shouldn't have been afraid of the wolf. The wolf should have been afraid of me. Now, let's get you all fixed up. Company's coming." Dick starts undoing Crane's chains as you sit with wide eyes.

Maybe everyone is a monster. Or capable of being one. Maybe everyone has a monster inside of them but it's about what they use the monster for that actually makes them monstrous or not. Dick had no choice, do or die.

You know the wolf probably just wanted him out of its territory. Wolves have only attacked twice in North America since the early 1900s. Wolves aren't animals to typically fear. He didn't know any better but he was a monster that night to the wolf. And you know Dick isn't a monster. Not at his core. And you aren't either. And you know Jason isn't. But you've all done monstrous things out of self-preservation. Out of fear.

Maybe how people use that fear and those ideas is what makes them a monster. And if that's true, maybe most people can be saved. Maybe the monster just needs to know other ways to deal with the fear that fuels it.

You and Dick suit up once Crane is ready and you both head out to the woods. The plan is to subdue Jason, not kill him and then bring him back. That's it. You'll have him detox from the drug at the manor where it's safe. It'll be a two-on-one fight. And Dick is still a better fighter than Jason. You should be able to do this. So, you both head to the woods and you spot Jason down looking through the scope of a gun.

Dick and you tread lightly, you staying further off to the side and behind Dick. You don't particularly want to fight Jason again if you don't have to, especially since you're sober. You know you actually might be here more to make sure they don't kill each other and just in case. Which is fine with you. But, as the two of you start to close in on Jason, Crane cuts the lights and Dick steps on a twig making Jason spin around immediately, blocking Dick's first hit.

Dick tackles Jason, sending the two of them down a small hill. You follow the two of them just in time to see them both get back to their feet. Dick gets his enigma sticks in hand while Jason pulls out two pistols. The two of them start throwing hits using their weapons but the second Jason starts actually firing his gun, you step in.

You come in from the side, taking a kick to Jason's arm which gives Dick the opportunity to hit Jason in the knee. The hit sends Jason to the ground as he kneels, looking up to Dick as you walk beside him.

"Wow, classic moves. You even fight like Bats, huh?" Jason quips.

"Let it rest, Jay." You state and you can't see it, but he's surprised you're here fighting him. With Dick. And he's pissed. He really hoped you would take your shot at Crane even though he knew you wouldn't. You're just on Dick's side, lying to him.

"Not a chance, babe." Jason states. "Thought you wanted your shot at Crane, huh?"

"Yeah, I do but you're the one shooting the gun so." You shrug. "Not worth it." You shake your head softly as Jason grits his teeth under his helmet.

"We'll see." Jason says before quickly taking another shot at Dick, just as Dick moves out of the way.

You kick Jason just as Dick spins around and electrocutes Jason with his enigma stick. Jason falls back to the ground but only for a few seconds before he's back on his feet. He starts firing, trying to follow where Dick is going while you throw a knife, blade towards you at Jason's arm. It knocks his aim off just enough and Dick takes a shot with one of the enigma sticks. He uses it like a boomerang as it flies past Jason and hits his arm on the way back.

The three of you continue to fight, Jason mostly trying to target Dick and only defending himself against you. But, it's two to one and Jason is growing more annoyed at the entire situation. You know when he's going to fight back and Dick is flipping around. But, he's trying until Dick gets a good hit to his arm, knocking it useless for a few minutes.

Jason is hunched over, holding his arm against his torso while you and Dick stand in front of him. You never wanted him to get hurt here. None of you should be getting hurt, especially at the hands of each other.

"You told Crane everything?" Dick questions. "Everything!?" Dick yells. "This ends here."

"What did you think was gonna happen?" Jason straightens his stance. "After what you did to me. After what you let happen!"

"This isn't on me! You made your own choices."

You take a step back and this is definitely their fight. You were always on Jason's side with what happened. But, it's been hashed out. It was talked through months ago. Whatever mind game Crane played for all of this to resurface is insane. But, you suck in a breath because while the stuff that happened in San Francisco is Dicks' fault, the stuff that's happened here isn't. Not really. It's more Bruce's fault but Bruce is nowhere to be found so you figure Dick is just an easy target. Jason, clearly, doesn't see the irony in that one.

"Like you made yours? Come on, dude, you're just like the old man. A copy. Everything you do. Everything is because of him." Jason says as he throws something at Dick and shoots it sending off a flash bang.

Dick and you get blinded which gives Jason the oppurtunity to take several swings at Dick before he has him in a choke hold, Dick on his knees. Jason holds a gun to his head and for a second, he thinks he's finally won.

"But not for long."

After all of this torturous hell, he's won. This can be the endgame. He gets Dick and he gets to snuff out the person he thinks is responsible for all of his pain. That's what this was about. But, you come back into view with the flashbang wearing off and you stand directly in front of Jason just a few feet away from him.

"Put the gun down, Jason." You grit your teeth.

"You on his side now?" Jason asks.

"Fuck." You groan. "No, but I fucking told you, you're not killing him." You seethe as you pull out a knife. "Let him fucking go, Jason."

"You know what he did!" Jason yells.

"No, I know what he did then and you squashed that shit. The shit that happened here isn't on him. You wanna blame someone then blame me." You shrug as you hold the knife steady and ready to be thrown in a split second.

The words catch Jason off guard. Crane has been telling him this whole time that you're the reason he suffered here. You're one of the reasons. If it weren't for you, it would have just been him getting to be Robin. You were good at it. Maybe Bruce saw you as a way to replace Jason. He never had any problems overcoming anything but you get in the picture and he can't even sleep at night. It all came back to you and now you're standing in front of him taking the blame.

"So, you are with him then, right?" Jason asks and Dick can feel Jason's grip starting to loosen. "You're just like him. You got a suit and now you think you're another bat. Dick's right, this ends here."

"I am always with you." You urge. "But, if you wanna blame someone for the shit here, then it should be me and Bruce, not Dick. So, let him go. You know I won't miss."

"So, try it." Jason threatens, he knows you won't. You would never throw a knife directly at him in case you do miss or he moves or you hit Dick. You wouldn't take the risk with them involved.

"Gotham PD! Drop your weapons!" You all hear from a helicopter above you.

The three of you look up to a spotlight on them. Dick takes the opportunity to grab Jason's arm, the gun firing as Dick grabs him. The gun fires directly at you but luckily, it misses as you dodge it just in time thanks to throbbing in the front of your head. The boys don't notice as they continue their fight and at this point, you're fed up with the two of them.

"You almost shot me!" You yell and for a second, the two of them freeze, looking at you. "I've had it with you two idiots." You lunge forward and join the fight with the two of them.

The three of you end up fighting each other, you unsure of whose side you're on now. Dick pulled his arm so the gun would aim at you and Jason managed to pull the trigger in the struggle. It's ridiculous but as you all fight each other, a shot goes off from above you and it comes down right in the middle of the chaos, sending Dick off to the left and you and Jason off to the right.

Jason is the first to his feet and he sees you struggling to breathe after having the wind knocked out of you. Despite it all, that voice that tells him to side with you, is louder than usual. Something about seeing you possibly hurt sends his head into a static panic. So, grabs you and starts pulling you into the woods and away from Dick. You groan and you can see Dick still on the ground. If he's not on his feet now but Jason is, you're starting to think he was the one shot in this mess. This whole thing went to shit real fucking quick.

"Let go of me!" You yell, wiggling out of his grasp.

Jason takes a step back, putting his hands up and away from you. "Are you okay?" Jason asks as he takes his helmet off.

You spin around on your butt, eyes wide in disbelief. "Seriously!?" You get to your feet and rip off your mask. "No! I'm not okay! You two almost shot me. You killed Hank. This shit sucks! You're trying to kill Dick and you're thinking I'm turning on you, for fucks sake. What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not everyone else!?"

It's wearing off, he can feel it off. The guilt is washing over him slowly and he hates this feeling. The withdrawal is starting to kick in and he wants to start ripping his hair out. Everything starts to hurt, slowly and steadily.

"Get out of here then." Jason turns around to walk away.

You run up behind him and grab him. He doesn't get to off so easily this time. "Get the fuck off of that drug for one fucking day and tell me Crane is on your damn side. I'm sick of this shit, Jason."

"So, stop following me." Jason turns to face you.

"Come home." You grit your teeth and you know it's a waste of breath but you try anyway. After talking with Crane and seeing how easy it is to manipulate people, you're more afraid for him than you were before.

"I can't!" Panic seeps into his voice and he hates the way it sounds.

"Bullshit! Yes, you can!" Your voice starts to tremble as your nose scrunches.

He can't. He doesn't belong there. It was never home. They don't want him there. They don't get it. No one believes in him and they don't care about him. Crane has shown that he does. Crane has to be right about them. Jason can't afford for Crane to be wrong. He can't just go home. It doesn't work like that.

"No! Get out of here before Crane finds us! Go!"

The wording catches you off guard. He is worried what Crane will think if you're together. Crane said Jason hasn't mentioned you once and you didn't think too much of it, assuming it was because Jason just had his sight set on whatever the hell Crane wanted him to do. But, maybe Jason just left your name out of it the same way you just did. To protect each other. You need to find a way to work with that. Jason knows, deep down, something is off and you have to get through to that part of him but you don't know how. For the first time since meeting him, you don't know what will work with him.

"Jay," You plead with him. "He's not on your side. He is using you! Just like Bruce did. Please, come with me." You reach for his hand but Jason pulls it away. "Please."

He shakes his head. It's not worn off nearly enough for that to work. It has worn enough though for him to feel for you. "I'm sorry." Jason puts his free hand on your shoulder, searching your face but all he sees is the water brimming in your eyes. "I'm sorry I almost shot you. But, go. Get out of here." His voice is stern but there's a slight quiver to his words.

You shake your head softly as your heart breaks and you wonder how much more your heart can take before it finally just gives up. "Watch your back, Jay." You state softly, lacking any and all venom that should come with those words. "With Crane. I got the Titans, okay? If you have ever trusted me at all, watch your back, please."

"What do you mean you have the Titans?" Jason asks, his brows furrowing as he drops his hand.

"I got them covered, don't worry about them. Worry about Crane." You nod your head softly as you place your hand on his cheek. "Seriously, Jay, be careful." You nod once before you slide your hand from his face and turn around, making your way through the trees and back to where Dick was.

Jason watches you leave and he can't help but wonder what the hell you mean by watching himself with Crane. Of course, he knows you don't trust him. You wouldn't trust anyone like Crane, it's one of the reasons Jason never looped you in before he died. But, this feels different and he doesn't know why. Crane wouldn't tell you anything but you seem genuinely worried and maybe Jason should be questioning Crane a little more. He hasn't told Jason the entire plan yet anyway.

You get back to the clearing but Dick is nowhere to be found. You let out a sigh of relief figuring Dick must be okay if he's not here. So, you start your walk back to the cabin. When you get back, you find Dick standing in the doorway, holding his shoulder.

"You okay?" You ask from behind him.

Dick turns around quickly and for a second, he was worried they took you. You're the one who says you have a habit of being kidnapped. It was that or maybe you did side with them in the end. But, here you are looking absolutely defeated.

"Yeah, you?"

"You're bleeding." You state as you point to the blood leaking around his hand holding his shoulder.

"It's nothing. Are you okay?" Dick questions again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You two morons missed me." You quip back as you roll your eyes. "You got shot though so that's a problem."

"It's fine." Dick states and suddenly you know where Jason gets it from. They aren't even blood-related and it's always 'it's fine' and 'I'm fine'. "Crane is gone so we need to get back."

"Good luck explaining that to Babs." You suck in a breath, pushing past Dick to grab your things from the cabin. "Sorry." You offer a yikes look based on the scowl you're receiving from Dick.

"Come on, let's go." Dick nods his head towards the door before the two of you head back to the car to get back to the manor.

As you head back to the manor, you're stuck hoping against everything in you that tonight was enough for Jason. It has to be enough to convince him. It has to.

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A/n: There's more Jason in the next chapter and in the rest of the chapters lol I am going into season 4. I have a plan lol We also do circle back to the whole fight between him and the reader later!!

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @urmomsgayforme5

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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kingofbodyrolls · 7 months ago

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | eighteen

🐴Chapter summary: Jungkook and your sister gets married and you can’t wait to marry the love of your life too.

🐴Chapter title: By My Side

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: so much love, so much fluff, so many kisses, it’s wedding season yay, explicit description of sex; oral (female and male receiving), marking/biting (I swear they are not animals lol), dirty/sweet talk, multiple orgasms, spanking, nipple play, rough(er) sex, slight exhibitionism, caught in the act 👀

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 14.7k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “By My Side” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: how are you all doing? We’re almost at the end of the road and I just wanted to say how thankful I am for each and everyone of you guys 😭💖 Especially to all of you that leave me nice, sweet, sad or yelling comments— truly you mean so much to me!! I’m sorry that some of you have dropped off, or stopped commenting, but, ah, it’s okay, even though it makes me wonder if you don’t like it anymore (which is also fine). I get too much into my head, lol. But I just wanted to say that I’m really grateful! Chapter 19 is the last ‘official’ chapter, as chapter 20 is the epilogue (with the Q&A I really hope that you’ll participate in /comment or ask/ otherwise it’s fine, I’ve already got a few questions lined up!). Thank you for joining me on this wild ride 💖 The song that Jimin is playing on the piano is “Love Somebody” by Lukas Graham.

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“Gonna throw my arms around you And hold you tight Gonna throw my arms around you We’re gonna dance all night” - ‘By My Side’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Everything is just going wrong.

The relentless heat pulls down on you like a vengeful sun god, threatening to sap every ounce of strength from your weary body until you collapse, a mere casualty of its unyielding fury.

As the high summer sun reigns supreme once more, you find yourself marveling at the passage of time, unable to comprehend that you’ve already spent two entire years in this place you call home.

Amidst the chaos of the ranch, the sheep have staged a daring escape from their paddock, their wooly forms darting erratically across the landscape. With determination etched on your faces, you, Jimin, Soo-ah, and Ara scramble to corral them, matching their frantic energy step for step, while Yoongi works tirelessly to mend the broken fence.

The urgency of your sister’s impending wedding hangs in the air, but the chaos of the ranch seems determined to steal the spotlight. Despite the pressing need to assist her in her preparations, you find yourself ensnared in the unpredictable drama unfolding outside. With a mixture of amusement and concern, you watch as your sister, clad in her elegant wedding gown, bravely joins the fray, chasing after a wayward sheep. The sight is both comical and endearing, though you can’t help but worry that her gown may carry the brunt of the day’s unexpected escapades, threatening to pollute the perfection of her special day.

“Jessi, get back inside and finish getting ready!” You shout over the clamor of bleating sheep, your voice laced with urgency as you dart between the animals, determined to block their escape routes and guide them back to safety.

She grumbles, her frustration palpable in the sweltering air. “No, everything’s a mess. I can’t in good conscience sit and wait for everyone to fix all of this,” she insists, gesturing emphatically to the banners and decorations hanging around the property, clinging on for dear life as if fighting against the relentless heat themselves.

“The cake hasn’t even arrived yet,” she starts, frustration evident in her voice, “and the food is still nowhere to be seen. The caterers are running late too, of course.”

With sheer determination, she seizes a sheep and drags it through the chaos of the yard, guiding it back into the pen with a triumphant grunt.

“Some of our friends are stuck in sudden traffic, on roads that are normally as deserted as ghost towns,” she hisses through clenched teeth while securing the gate, “it’s like everything is spiraling into a fucking disaster!”

“Look, I understand, but it would be a huge help if you could just head back inside, get ready, and make sure nothing happens to that dress,” you plead with your sister, feeling the weight of the chaotic situation. Behind you, Jimin appears, a silent but supportive presence.

“We’ll handle the sheep,” he reassures your sister with a warm smile, gently nudging her towards the house, but she remains adamant, refusing to heed reason.

“No,” she insists, determination blazing in her eyes as she rushes to corral another sheep, “We sort out these sheep first, then I’ll finish getting ready.”

You watch her dart around in slippers, makeup half-done, and hair neatly pinned, a whirlwind of determination amidst the chaos. It’s a surreal scene, part comedy, part calamity, and wholly ridiculous, you can’t help but think to yourself.

Jimin rolls his eyes in amused exasperation, and you both stand there, transfixed, watching your stubborn sister darting about like a whirlwind. It’s a spectacle of determination amidst the chaos, and you can’t help but be amazed by her tenacity.

“Should we do something to stop her, before she ruins her dress?” Jimin whispers, his concern evident in the furrow of his brows and the earnestness in his voice, as you both contemplate whether to intervene or let her stubborn determination play out.

“I don’t think we can do anything and I doubt either Jungkook or Jessi are too concerned about the dress at this point,” you chuckle, reminiscing about your sister's quip during her dress fittings, when she joked about Jungkook’s eagerness to tear it off. “But hey, at least it’ll make for a memorable story,” you add with a grin, watching as Jessi continues her frantic chase around the yard.

“Come on, let’s lend a hand and wrangle these wooly escape artists,” you suggest, a hint of determination in your voice. “We’re cutting it close to the ceremony, and I’d rather not be chasing sheep in a fancy dress any longer than necessary.” With a quick glance at Jimin, you dash off in pursuit of a particularly elusive sheep, the hem of your purple satin dress swishing around your ankles as you go.

With Jimin and Soo-ah at your heels, you plunge into the chaos of scampering sheep. Together, you dart and dive amidst the wooly fugitives, your hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of the chase. With practiced precision, you snatch up stray sheep, your movements a blur of determination and adrenaline. Each successful capture is a victory, a step closer to restoring order to the ranch and salvaging the wedding day.

As you catch your breath, you scan the scene before you, noting your sister’s approach. Her once pristine dress is now adorned with streaks of dirt, a testament to her relentless pursuit of wayward sheep. Despite the disarray, her determined stride speaks volumes—this is a woman on a mission, unwilling to let even the chaos of runaway livestock derail her wedding day.

“You look like you’ve been wrestling with the sheep,” you tease, gesturing to the dirt stains on her dress, but she just shrugs it off with a determined grin.

“Are we done with the sheep now?” She asks, a wide grin on her face, a stark contrast to the chaos around you.

“I believe so,” you breathe out, your legs trembling slightly. You can’t help but note how out of shape you are.

“Alright. I’ll head back in and let Ha-rin work her magic on me,” she smiles at you before disappearing into the house.

Soo-ah and Ara comes bounding after her, declaring, “We need to get ready too!”

Both you and Jimin share a laugh at her eagerness, your hands finding each other naturally amidst the chaos.

“You look absolutely dashing in that suit,” you murmur, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his collar before drawing him closer for a tender kiss.

As you catch your breath, Jimin’s hand finds its place on your hips, a gentle reassurance amidst the chaos. “You look absolutely stunning in that satin dress,” he murmurs, his eyes alight with admiration as he drinks in your beauty.

His gaze intensifies, tracing the contours of your form with an unspoken hunger. In a moment of raw desire, he leans in for another kiss, his lips seeking the warmth of yours with a passion that ignites the air around you.

“Ahem,” as Yoongi clears his throat behind you, his interruption breaks the intimate moment with Jimin, drawing your attention away from his embrace. With a blush rising to your cheeks, you pivot to meet Yoongi’s gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at being caught in such a tender exchange.

Yoongi’s furrowed brow accentuates his concern as he addresses the emerging problem, “I’ve finished fixing the fence, but should we let Jessi know about the horses breaking out?”

Your sudden pivot towards Yoongi, eyes wide with concern, mirrors the rush of hopelessness engulfing you. “Shit, they have?” You blurt out, your voice tinged with urgency.

Jimin’s expression mirrors your own mix of surprise and weariness. “Definitely don’t tell her that,” he agrees, his voice tinged with a hint of dread.

With a frustrated grumble, you snatch the hair elastic from your locks, securing the hem of your dress around the thickest parts of your thighs. Thankfully, you’re in boots, not the heels meant for the wedding. “We have to round them up too,” you sigh, starting towards the stables and the adjacent paddock.

As you, your boyfriend, and Yoongi approach the paddock, it becomes evident that the fences remain intact; rather, it seems someone neglected to secure the gate.

You release a frustrated sigh. “Such a silly mistake. It’s probably one of the city guests,” you grumble, eyeing the horses as they gallop around the yard in front of the stables.

“At least they’re just out here,” Yoongi says, his voice tinged with a touch of defeat, “so we don’t have to saddle up a horse to get them.”

“Let’s get to work then,” Jimin says, his determination cutting through the weariness as he strides towards Marshmallow, while you head over to Mikrokosmos. Yoongi takes charge of Cinnamon and the other horses, a sense of urgency in his movements.

The three of you work in unison, coaxing and guiding the remaining horses back into their stalls. With each successful capture, you can’t help but feel the weight of the day pressing down on you. If it were your wedding day, you’d likely be a wreck with all these mishaps, but your sister’s calm demeanor is a stark contrast. She’s handling it with remarkable ease, almost too casual given the circumstances.

“Alright, now that we’ve sorted out the horse situation, let’s head down to the terrace and ensure everything’s set up perfectly before we check on Jessi,” Jimin suggests, a warm smile gracing his lips as he takes your hand, leading the way to the terrace.

As Yoongi trails closely behind, you descend to the terrace, greeted by a scene far from the envisioned perfection. String lights hang precariously, as if ready to tumble, the floral archway stands incomplete, and the chairs remain stacked, untouched.

“Who the fuck thought this half-assed setup was acceptable?” You exclaim, gesturing to the haphazard scene that falls far short of wedding readiness.

“We better get it sorted, and quick,” Yoongi declares, already diving into action to rectify the situation. He swiftly begins readjusting the string lights, wrapping them securely around the wooden poles on the terrace.

You stride purposefully towards the archway, the symbolic heart of your sister’s impending union with Jungkook. Your hands reach for the scattered roses, their rich red hue a testament to passion and enduring love. Though not Jessi’s favorite, she chose them for their timeless significance in romance. With meticulous care, you intertwine the roses through the wire of the archway, each blooming a promise of the love that will be declared beneath its embrace.

As you weave the roses through the archway, your thoughts drift to the upcoming wedding ceremony. It’s endearing that Jessi and Jungkook chose this picturesque terrace for their special day. With a wistful smile, you envision your own future nuptials with Jimin, the love of your life. Your gaze falls to your hand, where the glimmering purple gemstone of your ring catches the sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors. You wonder, will your wedding day unfold flawlessly, bathed in perfection, or will it, like today, be a delicate balance of chaos and charm?

Jimin meticulously arranges the chairs in front of the archway, and you find yourself stealing glances at him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. The mere thought of marrying him sends a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach, anticipation and love intertwining in a beautiful symphony.

As Yoongi finishes with the string lights, he joins you at the archway, carefully weaving more lights into its frame. The vision of the terrace illuminated in the soft glow of the lights fills your mind with anticipation, imagining how enchanting it will look as night falls.

“Should I add some light to the piano too?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the bustling scene, his eyes flickering between you and Jimin. Jimin responds with a nod, a smile gracing his lips, affirming the idea with silent approval.

“That’s a brilliant idea,” you remark, a glint of excitement dancing in your eyes. You adore the thought of Jimin serenading the wedding guests with his piano. His decision to bring it here fills you with anticipation, especially knowing he’ll grace the event with his melodious voice. Each note he plays and every lyric he sings has a magical way of captivating your soul, tugging at the strings of your heart with its angelic resonance.

Just the thought is already setting your heart aflutter, anticipating the magic it will bring to the celebration.

As the thorn pricks your finger, a sharp curse escapes your lips, its sting piercing through the bustling preparations. Glancing down, you find a tiny droplet of blood welling up at the tip of your thumb. Grimacing at the inconvenience, you apply pressure to staunch the flow, though it continues to seep through. Jimin’s concerned voice breaks through the chaos, drawing his attention to your injury. “Did you cut yourself?” He inquires, his eyes scanning your hand with worry.

“Yeah, these damn roses,” frustration drips from your words as you lament the troublesome roses, a hint of exasperation coloring your tone. Jimin’s gentle touch on your hand soothes the irritation, his concern palpable as he inspects the injury. With a relieved sigh, you notice the bleeding has ceased, a silent testament to his comforting presence. “I don’t think I want roses at our wedding,” you quip, a wry smile tugging at your lips amidst the chaos.

“I want anything you want,” he murmurs, his voice a soft reassurance amidst the chaos, “if you don’t want roses, we’ll find some other flowers.” His words carry a promise, a vow to prioritize your desires above all else, igniting a warmth in your heart that transcends the fleeting mishaps of the day.

You smile at your fiancé, a surge of affection welling up within you, and you lean in to seal the moment with a tender kiss, a silent promise of love and unity amidst the whirlwind of preparations.

“Looks like everything’s finally falling into place,” Yoongi remarks with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire the twinkling string lights, casting a warm glow over the terrace.

You all pause to soak in the scene before you; the chairs adorned with soft white fabric, carefully tied with dashes of vibrant red, adding a touch of elegance. The archway bursts with the crimson hue of roses, their lush green leaves accentuating their beauty. Everywhere, string lights dance in the gentle breeze, casting a warm glow, even delicately draped around the microphone stationed before the piano, completing the enchanting ambiance.

“I think we’re done too. Great work, everyone!” You beam with pride, clapping for Yoongi and Jimin, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over you. With the decorations sorted, your attention shifts to the remaining tasks: ensuring the food, cake, and guests are all in order, and most importantly, attending to your sister’s needs on her special day.

“Could one of you give Jungkook a quick check-in? I’ll go see how Jessi’s doing,” you suggest, a warm smile gracing your lips as you loosen the hair tie around your dress, allowing it to cascade back into its original position.

“Alright, I’ll catch up with my brother,” Jimin volunteers, planting a tender kiss on your lips before you make your way into the house.

As you step into your sister’s room, Ha-rin is meticulously tending to her, perfecting both her hair and makeup. The sight that meets your eyes takes your breath away: your sister’s hair is elegantly styled, cascading in a charming bob adorned with delicate flowers, while her makeup adds a subtle glow, accentuating her natural beauty with finesse.

“You look absolutely stunning,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion. You fight back tears, determined not to smudge your own makeup. Save it for later, you remind yourself, knowing there will be countless moments ahead to let your emotions flow.

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile, but there's a hint of unease in her eyes, a flicker of something unspoken.

“What’s wrong?” You inquire, a mix of curiosity and concern lacing your words.

“Well,” she begins, her voice tinged with disappointment, “the caterer called. They can’t make it. There’s some kind of accident on the road, making it impossible for them to get here.” Your eyes widen, and your heart sinks to the floor at the news.

“Which also means that some of the guests are stuck in said traffic,” she adds, her voice deflated, mirroring your own sinking feeling.

“Oh no,” you murmur, sinking onto the edge of her bed, the weight of the unexpected news heavy on your shoulders.

“I can whip up some quick food for everybody,” Ha-rin offers, her nimble fingers deftly placing more flower pins in your sister’s hair, her voice a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty.

“Really?” Jessi’s eyes widen with a mix of surprise and gratitude. “If it’s not too much trouble for you, you are also a guest, you know. You’re not supposed to be working.”

“Yes, it’s fine. You know I love to cook, and I’ll call Seokjin and ask if he can come now and help,” she says, her smile radiating reassurance, a beacon of calm amid the chaos.

“What about the guests that can’t get here in time?” you inquire, a small smile playing on your lips, though worry lingers beneath the surface.

“That’s just too bad for them. We are sticking to the schedule. I think the most important people are here anyway,” she declares with a soft smile gracing her lips. You catch the glint in her eyes, brimming with excitement as she eagerly anticipates marrying the love of her life.

“Eh, what about the cake?” You interject, a sudden realization dawning on you as you recall the neglected task.

“It’s on its way, but also stuck in traffic,” your sister replies with a smile, her words laced with optimism. “It’s okay. Today will still be the best day of my life, even if some things are missing. Those little hiccups won’t dim the magic of this moment.”

You smile, grateful for her resilient outlook on things.

Ha-rin’s already on the phone with Seokjin, and he’s assured them he and Namjoon are on their way, ready to lend a hand in the kitchen. Ha-rin’s already bustling downstairs, preparing to whip up something quick.

Feeling the tension lift, you place a reassuring hand on your sister’s shoulder as she sits before her vanity. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, you ask, “Are you ready?”

Her reflection grins back, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“I wish mom was here, or my dad,” her words carry a weight of longing as she smiles, a melancholy veil over her features. You nod in silent understanding. The absence of loved ones, especially on such a significant day, leaves an unmistakable void. It’s a sentiment you’ve grappled with too, ever since Jimin proposed. The thought lingers – the absence of your father to walk you down the aisle. Yet, in that moment, you realize something profound: tradition holds less significance when you’re confident in your own capability, as is your sister.

“I’ll head downstairs to check on the guests, alright? It’s nearly time. But don’t worry, I’ll be back to escort you when the moment arrives,” you assure her with a warm smile, offering a comforting squeeze of her hand before swiftly exiting the room.

You rush downstairs, finding Ha-rin already engrossed in her culinary wizardry. Then, darting outside to the terrace, you scan the arrivals. Among them are your dearest friends, recognizable instantly amidst the gathering crowd. Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, Soo-ah, Ara, your fiancé, and Seokjin hustle past you, bound for the kitchen. Each one exudes a magnetic charm, their presence lending an air of elegance and anticipation to the gathering.

You make your way to Jimin, curiosity piqued. “Where’s your brother?”

Jimin lets out a nervous chuckle, his hand reaching up to scratch his head. “He’s running a bit late. His truck had a flat tire.”

You groan in exasperation, a blend of frustration and humor evident in your voice. “Oh my god. Nothing is going the way that it’s supposed to today, is it?”

“He’ll be here soon, everything will be fine,” he reassures you, his touch warm and reassuring as he gently lifts your hand for a quick, comforting kiss.

As you scan the gathering, more familiar faces start to trickle in — friends and family you rarely get the chance to see. With a warm smile, you greet each one, exchanging brief but heartfelt words, all the while hoping fervently that the ceremony will indeed begin soon.

As you usher people to their seats in front of the archway, a distant rumble draws your attention. Your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s Jungkook arriving at last. But as the vehicle draws nearer, relief washes over you; it’s the officiator, whom you had completely forgotten about until now. Despite the oversight, you’re grateful for his timely arrival.

The officiator hurries out of his car, a hint of urgency in his steps as he apologizes for being late. You offer a reassuring smile, assuring him that it’s alright, and in fact, the groom has yet to arrive, so his timing couldn’t be better.

With a surge of anxious energy, you fish out your phone from your purse and glance at the time. Jungkook should have arrived by now, and the knot of worry tightens in your stomach. The anticipation builds, your nerves tingling as if it were your own wedding day unraveling before you.

The distant growl of a dirt bike engine reaches your ears, and instinctively, you know it’s Jungkook. The rhythmic scrape of tires against earth crescendos as he maneuvers closer, the anticipation heightening with each passing moment. Finally, he parks beside the terrace, his arrival marking a crucial piece falling into place in the intricate mosaic of the day’s events.

As he removes his helmet, his ebony locks cascade in disarray, adding an untamed allure to his rugged appearance. Clad in a sleek black tux, he exudes an effortless charm that catches your eye. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he strides toward you, a grin illuminating his features like a beacon of warmth amidst the day’s chaos.

With a sheepish grin, Jungkook offers his apologies for his tardiness, his words tumbling out in a rush of explanation. “I’m so sorry for being late. I couldn’t find a spare tire for the truck, so I took the bike. How’s everything going?”

You fill Jungkook in on the current chaos with a reassuring smile, noting the absence of food and cake but the improvised efforts of Ha-rin and Seokjin. As you steady him with a grip on his arm, you notice his restless energy. “Well, most people have arrived, the food and cake is missing, but Ha-rin and Seokjin are whipping something up instead, and Jessi is waiting upstairs for her cue,” you say, your tone calm amidst the flurry. “Are you nervous?”

Jungkook beams back, his excitement palpable. “No, I’m just excited,” he replies, his grin infectious, spreading warmth through his words.

“Great, if you head over to the archway, I’ll go fetch Jessi,” you say, your smile encouraging as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze before heading off to find your sister.

You rush back upstairs to your sister’s bedroom and discover her in tears, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Concern floods through you as you hasten to her side, enfolding her in a protective embrace. “What’s happened?” You inquire urgently, your voice laced with worry.

Your sister’s current state is unusual, adding to your concern. It’s rare to see her like this, and that’s what’s truly troubling you.

Her breaths come in ragged gasps, as if each one is a battle. “The nerves are getting to me,” she manages between uneven breaths.

You come to a poignant realization in that moment—beneath her resilient exterior lies vulnerability, just like anyone else. Wrapping your arms around her, you offer solace, acknowledging her humanity. “It’s all gonna be okay. Kook’s here, looking so damn handsome,” you assure her, hoping to ease her nerves.

Your reassuring touch rests gently on her shoulders as you offer comforting words. “Despite the chaos earlier, everything’s set. The only thing missing downstairs is you,” you assure her, conveying both readiness and anticipation for the momentous occasion awaiting her.

With a soft sniffle, she delicately dabs at her tears, ensuring her makeup remains flawless, a determined effort not to let her emotions overshadow her beauty.

“I’m ready, let's go,” she declares, her voice steadying with determination, a final sniffle betraying her resolve as she stands up, ready to face the moment head-on.

Despite the smudges of dirt along the hem of her dress, she radiates an undeniable beauty, the gown hugging her form like it was made for her alone.

As her fingers intertwine with yours, a silent bond of sisterly solidarity forms. Descending the staircase together, you halt at the threshold of the terrace, stealing a fleeting moment to convey your unwavering support. “Remember, I love you, and everything will fall into place. It’s your time now. Go out there and claim your happiness.”

With a radiant smile in return, she embraces the moment, and you dash outside to join the assembly, making your way to the archway where Jungkook, Jimin, and the officiator stand. As you position yourself as your sister’s bridesmaid, a swell of emotion overtakes you at the sight of the gathered guests. Tears well in your eyes, understanding the depth of this moment for your sister, realizing the profound emotions that accompany such a significant occasion.

As the doors swing open, all heads turn in unison, anticipation palpable in the air. Your sister emerges, a mix of nerves and joy evident in her demeanor. Yet, as her gaze meets Jungkook’s beaming expression, a radiant smile blooms across her face, erasing any lingering apprehension and filling the space with an undeniable warmth.

She steps forward to join Jungkook, their eyes locking in a tender exchange that speaks volumes of their profound affection. Despite the nerves dancing in their gazes, their smiles radiate pure happiness, a testament to the depth of their bond. Witnessing their intertwined emotions, a blend of excitement and anticipation, fills you with a rush of affectionate fondness for the pair before you.

The officiant’s voice resonates, carrying the weight of solemnity and celebration, as he addresses the gathered assembly. “Welcome, cherished family, beloved friends, and dear ones,” he begins, his words weaving a tapestry of unity and affection. “Today, amidst this gathering of love, we commemorate the union of Jungkook and Jessi. In this moment, we stand witness to their profound commitment and rejoice in the boundless love that binds their hearts together, forging a path illuminated by devotion and shared dreams.”

As the officiant continues, his words become an intimate embrace of the couple’s journey, weaving anecdotes of triumphs and trials into a tapestry of enduring love. Each word seems to resonate with the experiences of Jungkook and Jessi, casting a warm glow of recognition and affirmation upon their union. You find yourself smiling, touched by the authenticity and depth of his words, which echo the resilience and commitment that define their relationship.

A wave of emotion washes over you, tightening your throat with a profound sense of affection. Glancing at your fiancé, you find him equally moved, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears yet radiant with a tender smile. His gaze flits between Jungkook, Jessi, and you, each glance brimming with pride and adoration for the bond being celebrated before you.

A hush falls over the gathered guests, anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity, as they collectively grasp the significance of the moment unfolding before them: the exchange of vows.

With a gentle smile gracing his lips, the officiant beckons Jungkook and Jessi to take each other’s hands and stand face to face. “Now,” he says softly, “Jungkook and Jessi, it's time to share the promises you’ve crafted for each other. Let your hearts speak.”

Jungkook inhales deeply, gathering his emotions before he begins. “I, Jungkook, take you, Jessi, just as you are,” he starts, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “From this day forward, I vow to cherish you, to love you with all my heart. You’ve been my friend since the day I moved next door, and through it all, you’ve been there for me, calling me out on my bullshit and lifting me up when I stumbled. Your kindness and love have shaped me in ways I can’t even begin to express. I promise to make every day with you an adventure, to fill our lives with joy and laughter, and to remain faithful to you as we grow old together. I can’t wait to share all my hopes and dreams with you. This, I solemnly pledge to you.”

Tears blur your vision, and you blink rapidly, trying to regain your composure. A glance at Jimin confirms that you’re not alone in your emotional response; his eyes glisten with unshed tears. Around you, guests grapple with their own emotions, alternating between soft sniffles and heartfelt chuckles.

Jimin, by Jungkook’s side, produces the ring, its glimmering presence a testament to their shared journey. You witness Jessi’s trembling anticipation, her eyes shining with love as Jungkook presents her with the ring, a symbol of their commitment. As the ring slips onto her finger, Jessi’s smile breaks through her tears, her emotions overflowing in a silent testament to their love.

Amidst laughter and tears, Jessi’s voice breaks through in a heartfelt chuckle, echoing the sentiment of everyone present. “How can I follow that?” She manages to say, her words laced with emotion, yet filled with joy.

With a determined resolve, Jessi straightens her posture, her gaze locked onto Jungkook’s, as if he’s the sole focus in the crowd. “I, Jessi, take you, Jungkook, as you are,” she begins, her voice unwavering, “and I promise from this day forward to love you with all my heart, to cherish you forever, even when you're being an idiot.” A ripple of laughter passes through the guests, but Jessi continues undeterred. “When I first met you, I knew we would become the bestest of friends,” she recounts warmly, “and though we have both been blind to our love for each other, we’ve always been there since day one. Our love is a slow one, and I can’t wait to watch it build even stronger over time. I promise to always be there for you, like I always have, and to spend eternity with you.”

Your vision blurs with tears again, rendering everything a watery haze. Yet, through the mist, you witness Jessi slipping the ring onto Jungkook’s finger with a tenderness that speaks volumes. They share a fleeting glance, a silent exchange of vows in their eyes, before the officiant’s voice pierces through the moment once more.

“With your declarations of love echoing through the hearts of all gathered here today, surrounded by the embrace of loved ones, I now, with the authority bestowed upon me, declare you husband and wife. You may seal your union with a kiss,” the officiant proclaims, his words resonating with warmth and joy as he steps back, leaving the newlyweds bathed in the glow of love’s triumph.

As Jungkook and Jessi’s lips meet in a tender embrace, a wave of exuberance sweeps through the crowd, erupting in cheers, applause, and jubilant shouts. Their kiss ignites a symphony of celebration, laughter mingling with the joyous cacophony. With twinkling eyes and contagious smiles, they break apart briefly, their hands raised in a playful display before succumbing once more to the intoxicating magic of their love, sealing their union with another tender kiss.

They gracefully traverse the grassy aisle, and each step resonates with the harmony of their newfound bond. With every footfall, the air is charged with a palpable sense of unity and joy. You intertwine your fingers with Jimin’s, the warmth of his hand a comforting reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions. Together, you and the jubilant assembly trail behind the newlyweds, a vibrant procession of love and celebration, each heartbeat echoing the symphony of affection that fills the air.

In a cascade of affection, you envelop both your sister and Jungkook in a tight embrace, the culmination of their love story tangible in this moment of love. Around you, friends and family converge, their outstretched arms forming a tapestry of heartfelt congratulations, woven with laughter, tears, and boundless joy.

Music fills the air, and Ha-rin and Seokjin’s culinary creations adorn the tables, tempting guests to indulge in a symphony of flavors. Conversations hum with warmth and laughter, a mosaic of shared stories and heartfelt connections, as you and Jimin navigate the lively gathering hand in hand, savoring each moment together amidst the festive atmosphere.

The day wanes into twilight, as the sun’s golden embrace yields to the subtle allure of dusk, the terrace transforms beneath the twinkling glow of the string lights. Their radiant beams cast a spell, painting the scene with an ethereal glow that could rival the most picturesque of rom-com settings. It’s as if the very essence of cinematic romance has descended upon this moment, wrapping you in its embrace and etching this day into the annals of timeless love stories.

As the delectable flavors crafted by Ha-rin and Seokjin dance on your taste buds, satiating your hunger, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, his fingers poised to weave magic into the air. Eagerly, you join him, settling onto the bench beside him, anticipation coursing through your veins like an electric current, ready to be swept away by the enchanting melody he’s about to conjure.

As the final strains of music dissolve into the air, Jimin’s fingers hover over the piano keys, poised like a painter about to create a masterpiece. With the gentle caress of his touch, the first note emerges, followed by the sweet cadence of his voice, weaving a spell that ensnares your soul. Mesmerized, you surrender to the enchantment of his performance, each note a whisper of passion, each melody a testament to his mastery. His presence is magnetic, drawing you into a realm where time stands still and only the harmonies of love prevail.

He serenades with a Lukas Graham melody, and Jimin’s voice transcends mere sound, becoming an ethereal cascade of emotion. “When you say, you love the way I make you feel, everything becomes so real,” his words weave a tapestry of raw vulnerability, each syllable a tender embrace. “Don’t be scared, no, don’t be scared, cause you’re all I need,” he implores, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand promises. In that moment, surrounded by the twilight glow and the soft murmur of the evening, his melody becomes an anthem of love, resonating deep within your heart.

You glance around, the scene unfolds like a painting of affectionate vignettes; couples swaying cheek to cheek in perfect synchrony, their souls intertwined in the dance of love. Among them, your sister and Jungkook move with a grace that transcends mere steps, their hearts beating as one, their eyes locked in a silent promise of forever. In the soft glow of the string lights, their love is a radiant beacon, illuminating the night with its undeniable warmth and beauty.

Jimin’s fingers glide with effortless grace over the piano keys, and you find yourself swaying gently to the rhythm of the song next to him, enveloped in a cocoon of love. His voice, like a velvet caress, fills the air with each heartfelt lyric, each note resonating deep within your soul. “All my life,” he sings, his voice carrying the weight of every emotion, “I thought it’d be hard to find the one, ‘till I found you, and I find it bittersweet, ‘cause you gave me something to lose.” In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the string lights and the warmth of your loved ones, you realize that this is exactly where you belong—lost in the melody of love, with Jimin by your side.

As those words echo through the melody, they strike a chord deep within you, resonating with the profound love you hold for Jimin. Each syllable encapsulates the essence of your bond, stirring emotions you never knew existed. Tears brim in your eyes, a testament to the overwhelming beauty of the moment, as your heart dances to the rhythm of the keys, synchronizing with the song of your soulmate’s love.

“But when you love someone, you open up your heart. When you love someone, you make room. If you love someone, and you’re not afraid to lose ‘em,” Jimin’s voice caresses each note, weaving a tapestry of emotions, and you find yourself spellbound by his heartfelt rendition. His words resonate deep within your soul, stirring a kaleidoscope of feelings. You can’t help but wonder if he’s serenading you, but in this moment, it doesn’t matter. The beauty of his melody transcends any specific recipient, filling the air with pure, unadulterated love. Your heart swells with an indescribable joy, as if each note is a love letter written just for you.

As the final notes of the song fade into the night, Jimin’s eyes find yours, ablaze with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Without a word, he closes the distance between you, his touch gentle yet electrifying as his lips meet yours in a passionate embrace. In that fleeting moment, it’s as if time itself stands still, the world around you fading into insignificance as you’re enveloped in the warmth of his love. It’s a collision of souls, a cosmic dance orchestrated just for the two of you. As you part, his forehead presses against yours, his eyes searching yours with an unwavering devotion. “I love you,” he whispers, each word a promise etched into the fabric of the universe.

Tears glisten in your eyes as you tenderly place your hands over his, cradling them against your cheeks. “I love you too,” you murmur, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of shared dreams and unspoken promises.

The music surges to life once more, transforming into an upbeat melody that ignites the crowd with infectious energy, prompting everyone to leap and sway with unbridled joy.

As you sit beside Jimin, enveloped in the vibrant atmosphere, you find solace in the simple act of watching people twirl and sway to the music. With his hand clasped in yours, you observe the dance floor come to life: Soo-ah and Namjoon’s laughter fills the air as they spin in rhythm, while Ara and Taehyung move with effortless grace, lost in the moment.

You glance across the dance floor, and you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok swaying in perfect harmony, their laughter echoing amidst the music. Their closeness and whispered words spark a curiosity that draws your attention, and as they slip away toward the stables, a spontaneous laugh escapes your lips.

You lean into Jimin’s embrace, a soft smile gracing your lips as you observe your sister and Jungkook engaged in their playful dance-off. Their competitive spirits shine through as they showcase their moves, each trying to outdo the other in a lighthearted battle for dance floor supremacy. Their energy is infectious, eliciting an affectionate eye roll from you as you revel in the joyous atmosphere of the moment alongside Jimin.

Just as you turn away, a tender moment catches your eye: Ha-rin leans in to kiss Seokjin, their affectionate gesture weaving seamlessly into the vibrant tapestry of the celebration. A warm smile plays on your lips, touched by the sight of their love blossoming amidst the festivities.

You turn towards Jimin, drawn by the magnetic pull of his presence, and nestle into his side, seeking solace in the comfort of his embrace. Your fingers intertwine naturally, a silent affirmation of your connection, as you both linger in the tranquil embrace of your love.

As you bask in the serene moment with Jimin, a voice pierces through the tranquility from behind, jolting you back to the present. “I’m so sorry I’m late, but I’m here with the cake!”

You pivot around to behold a lady cradling the cake in her arms, an emblem of sweet relief amidst the festivities. You hasten to her side, extending a hand to aid her with the burden. “It’s fine. It’s the perfect time,” you reassure her, your words resonating with a sense of gratitude and eagerness.

You delicately position the cake on the table, its presence a timely marvel as the moment for cake-cutting approaches. Its arrival couldn’t have been more opportune, aligning seamlessly with the proceedings.

Jungkook and your sister approach the cake, their smiles radiant like two love-struck souls lost in their own world. With synchronized movements, they cut into the cake, their laughter filling the air as they distribute slices to each guest, their joy contagious and palpable.

The cake is a divine delight, each bite a symphony of flavors dancing on your taste buds. As you indulge in its sweetness, laughter and chatter fill the air, accompanied by clinks of glasses as you toast to love and happiness.

As you sway in Jimin’s arms, the music enveloping you in its rhythm, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Hoseok returning to the dance floor. There’s a playful glint in Yoongi’s eyes that you recognize all too well, and it’s contagious. You exchange knowing smiles, a silent acknowledgment of mischief, before returning to the dance with renewed energy.

As the night wanes and the stars twinkle above, casting their celestial glow, you find yourselves reluctant to bid farewell to the festivities. However, the time has come for your sister and Jungkook to embark on their honeymoon adventure.

“Where’s the grand destination?” You inquire, your curiosity piqued by the air of mystery surrounding your sister and Jungkook’s travel plans. Her recent penchant for secrecy has only added to your intrigue, leaving you eager for her revelation.

“I’ll tell you once we’re back from our adventure in two weeks,” she teases, a playful glint in her eye as she envelops you in a warm embrace, leaving you hanging in suspense yet again.

You join the embrace, enveloping Jungkook in a heartfelt hug, your words tinged with genuine warmth as you wish them an unforgettable honeymoon filled with love and laughter.

Returning home without your sister feels unsettling. The once lively corridors now echo with emptiness, leaving you with an unexpected sense of loneliness that you struggle to shake off. It’s a feeling you find discomforting, one that drives you back to Jimin’s comforting embrace. His home has evolved into your sanctuary, a place where warmth and familiarity envelop you like a cozy blanket— a home. In quiet conversations with Jimin, you’ve explored the idea of making a home together after marriage, and the anticipation thrills you to your core. The thought of sharing your life with him under one roof fills you with an eager longing that grows with each passing day.

You’ve made a pact to hold off until your sister and Jungkook return from their honeymoon, a decision born out of respect for their special time together. It’s a waiting game, albeit a challenging one, as each day stretches out like a tantalizing promise of what’s to come. In the meantime, you find solace in the anticipation, savoring the moments spent with Jimin while eagerly counting down the days until you can officially start your life together.

In the tranquil embrace of his ranch, each morning unfolds like a cherished ritual shared with your beloved fiancé. As the sun paints the horizon with hues of amber and gold, you find yourself enveloped in his arms, where every embrace whispers promises of forever. Here, amidst the rustle of the breeze and the gentle melody of nature, you discover a sense of belonging that transcends mere walls and roofs— it’s a sanctuary where your heart finds its true home.

As the day unfolds, you immerse yourself in the untamed beauty of the ranch, working alongside Yoongi and Hoseok to master the art of taming wild horses. Amidst the spirited dance between human and horse, Taehyung often joins, his curiosity piqued by the mesmerizing spectacle before him.

Amidst the flurry of ranch chores and horse training sessions, you’ve carved out precious moments to steal away with Jimin. Today, you’re escaping into the embrace of nature together, saddling up for a romantic horseback ride—a date brimming with the promise of adventure and love.

You and Jimin emerge from the stables, the weight of the world left behind as you venture into the boundless expanse of the countryside. Direction matters little when you’re with Jimin, your heart’s compass guiding you both through fields of golden grass and beneath a sky ablaze with the hues of twilight.

You soar over the rolling hills, weaving through dense forests, embraced by the remaining warmth of the sun and the playful caress of the wind through your hair. In this exhilarating moment, your heart sings with joy, knowing that you share this breathtaking experience with Jimin by your side, his laughter mingling with the melody of nature.

“Should we take a break?” You propose, feeling the thrill of the ride tingling in your veins after half an hour of journeying. The landscape around you is alive with the pulse of nature, a vibrant painting stretching as far as the eye can see. Though the ranch isn’t too distant, the distance you’ve covered has infused the air with an electrifying sense of adventure.

You both dismount your horses, the soft rustle of grass underfoot as you settle on the grassy ground. Nearby, your horses graze contentedly, a peaceful symphony of munching filling the air as you recline beside each other, basking in the tranquil moment together.

Jimin settles in behind you, enveloping you in his protective embrace, his warmth seeping into your skin. With a tender gesture, he rests his head on your shoulder, his breath soft against your neck as he whispers, “What’s on your mind?”

You lean into his touch, finding solace in the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat against your back, a steady reassurance in the chaos of your thoughts. “Lately, I’ve been grappling with something,” you admit, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue. But this sentiment has lingered for a while, and you’ve mulled it over countless times. “I don’t feel like home feels like home anymore. I really want to move in with you because your space, your presence, it feels like home— where I belong, you know?”

Jimin nods in understanding, his warm breath tickling your skin as he speaks. “Yeah, I remember you mentioning that, love.”

“Do you think Jungkook will move in with Jessi then? Not that I don’t want to live here with your brothers,” you rush to add, ensuring you don’t overstep. You love his brothers, and you don’t really want them to leave either. But you also know your sister and Jungkook. It would be hell to live in the same house as them. You can still vividly recall that week at your place where you didn’t get any sleep because of all the sounds they were making.

Jimin chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your ear, “I don’t know actually. But I think we can talk to them when they get back. We’re all grown people, I think they would understand that we want to live together, and I think they want that for themselves too. We just have to figure out the logistics.” His voice is reassuring, carrying a hint of excitement for the future.

You laugh softly, the sound blending with the rustle of the breeze, realizing the truth in his words. With a playful nudge, you lean further into his comforting embrace, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, a silent promise of solidarity and affection.

“I love you more than words can express, Jimin,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the leaves. As his warm breath caresses your neck, you feel a surge of emotion, a wave of affection that envelops you like a gentle breeze, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. In that moment, you feel as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, reminding you of the depth of your affection for him.

“Something else has been on my mind too,” you begin, your voice trembling with lust as he peppers kisses along your neck. Each touch ignites a spark within you, urging you to share your thoughts with him, knowing that in his embrace, you’ll find comfort and understanding.

As his lips and tongue dance across your neck, eliciting soft gasps from your lips, you feel a surge of desire mingled with the need to express yourself. He doesn’t utter a word, but his gentle encouragement in the form of subtle sounds spurs you on, urging you to share your thoughts amidst the sensual distraction of his touch.

Amidst the tantalizing sensation of his kisses, you muster a chuckle, the playful warmth of the moment infusing your words with a light-hearted tone. “I’ve been thinking about breeding,” you confess, the words punctuated by a giggle as the ticklish sensation creeps in.

“That is one sexy way to open up for the baby talk,” he laughs, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of desire, punctuated by a teasing nip at your neck.

“I’m not talking about us, you silly goof,” you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes as you struggle to keep your thoughts on track.

“I’m talking about Mikrokosmos,” you clarify, your voice steadier now, with a touch of affection.

Jimin pulls back slightly, attempting to meet your gaze, though it’s a bit challenging at this angle. “Wait, are you serious?” He asks, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah, she’s so pretty. I think she’ll have some beautiful foals, don’t you think?” You ask, a spark of excitement dancing in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s actually a good idea. Do you want to train the foals yourself then?” He asks, resting his head back on your shoulder, his voice tinged with curiosity and anticipation.

“Yeah. I think it’ll be fun. Do you want to help me?” You ask, your voice filled with excitement and a hint of playfulness, your smile evident in your tone even if he can’t see it.

“Of course, love. I’d do anything for you,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he leans in to kiss your neck again, his devotion evident in every touch.

“Thank you,” you express with a heartfelt squeeze as you hug him, your gratitude washing over you. Rising from the grass, you extend your hand to him, pulling him up with a gentle tug, ready to embark on whatever adventures lie ahead, hand in hand.

As you ride back home together, the anticipation of a warm meal awaiting you adds to the comfort of returning. Upon arrival, the aroma of leftovers tantalizes your senses, drawing you into the kitchen where Taehyung is already at work. His cheerful presence fills the room, a welcome sight in the otherwise empty house. With the others engrossed in their respective tasks, it’s just the three of you, creating a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a familiar embrace.

“Sorry, I was hungry,” Taehyung offers with a sheepish grin, his eyes bright with mischief as he waits for the microwave to do its magic.

“No worries, Taehyung. We’ve all been there,” Jimin reassures him with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You can’t help but beam at the sight. Lately, their bond has been strengthening, and it warms your heart to see Taehyung integrating into the family he never knew he had, his kindness shining through every interaction.

Jimin swiftly plates some food for both you and himself, and just as Taehyung’s microwave timer dings, Jimin prioritizes serving your meal first, his actions speaking volumes about his thoughtfulness and care.

As the aroma of the freshly heated food fills the air, the three of you gather around the cozy kitchen table, ready to savor the meal together.

“Any idea when Jessi and Jungkook will be back?” Taehyung inquires, taking a sip of his water, his curiosity palpable in the air.

“They should be back in about a week,” you respond, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you anticipate their return.

“That’s awesome. I didn’t really get a chance to hang out with him much before they left for the honeymoon. I’m really looking forward to getting to know him better,” he adds, his face lighting up with a wide, eager grin.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities,” Jimin reassures him, his smile warm and encouraging.

Taehyung turns to you with sudden curiosity. “Do you know if Ara has a boyfriend?”

You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your food—a tragedy, considering Jimin’s delicious cooking. “She’s single. I noticed you two dancing at the wedding. Do you like her?”

His smile brightens, infectiously so, prompting a grin from you and even Jimin. Taehyung nods, a subtle blush tinging his cheeks. “Yeah, she’s cute.”

“You should ask her out on a date, I think she likes you too,” you encourage with a smile, offering a supportive thumbs-up.

The laughter of both you and Jimin resonates through the living room in the early night, your bodies intertwined as you lounge on the couch, the TV playing in the background. However, your attention isn't on the screen; instead, you’ve lowered the volume, delving into a meaningful conversation.

“Love, we’ve made love in just about every corner of this place,” Jimin teases, his laughter light and playful, his hand warm on your thigh. His smile, with those endearing crooked teeth, ignites a rush of excitement within you, your heart quickening its pace, while butterflies flutter fiercely in your stomach.

“No, I don’t think we have,” you reply, shaking your head, mischief twinkling in your eyes as you mentally scan every surface you’ve ever had sex on.

“We’ve done it on the kitchen table, in the tub, under the shower, on the bed, even in the stables, and don't forget the truck and outside,” he rattles off, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he recalls each rendezvous. His gaze smolders with desire as he tightens his grip on your thigh, drawing you closer until your breaths mingle, noses touching in an electric exchange of heat.

He leans into you, his warm breath grazing your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “Am I forgetting something?” His voice is laden with a playful tease, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, igniting a fiery anticipation between you.

Your breath hitches, and you feel the shiver travel from your spine down to your core. “I don’t think so,” you manage to whisper, the arousal pulsing through every fiber of your being.

Your hands rest on his chest as you inch yourself closer, almost straddling his lap. “But we haven’t done it on the couch yet,” you murmur, feeling the heat between you rising with each word, the anticipation electrifying the air.

“Are you sure? It seems weird that we haven’t done it here yet,” he muses, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

He presses you down into the plush of the couch, his weight against you, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of love and lust, a smile playing on his lips like a love-struck fool. “Let’s add it to the list then,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, sending a thrill coursing through you.

He presses his hips against yours, igniting a surge of desire as you release a needy moan. Your hands find their way to his ribs, fingers curling in lust, while he leans in to kiss you fervently, starting at your lips before trailing down to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a deliciously tantalizing manner, gently biting it.

He groans softly, his lips and tongue creating a work of art on your neck, leaving you breathless and yearning for more of his electrifying touch.

“Oh, Jimin... I’m already so wet,” you moan, the intensity of his movements against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Really?” He murmurs huskily in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve barely even touched you, love,” he adds, his voice dripping with desire and a hint of something dangerous that leaves you eager for more.

His erection is evident against you, firm and eager, as you trace the outline of his dick through his jeans. “I want to feel you,” you breathe out, your voice laced with urgency and desire.

His movements send shivers down your spine, igniting every nerve ending as he presses cock against you with fervor. “I wanna touch you too,” he whispers, his breath hitching with anticipation.

With tender hands, he skillfully undoes the button of your jeans, sliding them off your legs with a gentle tug. As your shirt slips away, revealing the curves he knows so well, his gaze lingers on your form clad in your lacy underwear, a mixture of desire and adoration shining in his eyes. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your skin.

With a shy smile at his praise, you shift closer, eager to explore every inch of him. As his shirt joins yours on the floor, you're met with the sight of his sculpted physique, each muscle defined by hard work and dedication. His skin, bathed in a golden glow, invites your touch, and as your fingertips trace the lines of his abs, a soft chuckle escapes his lips, a melody that makes your heart flutter.

With a sense of urgency, your fingers deftly work at his pants, swiftly undoing them before pushing him back onto the couch. As you remove his trousers, he’s left clad only in his black boxers, a sight that ignites a primal desire within you. His form, outlined by the fabric, is a tantalizing tease, and you can’t resist the urge to trace the contours of his dick. The sound of his pleasure as you touch him sends a jolt of electricity through you, fueling your own growing need.

“I wanna taste you,” you murmur, your voice laced with desire as you tantalizingly hover over him.

“I wanna taste you too, love,” he responds, a smile playing on his lips as he eagerly joins in, slipping his fingers into his boxers. With your help, they slide down, revealing his cock, standing proudly before you. It’s tall and girthy, the veins almost look like they might be popping out of his skin. The head looks a bit red and you salivate watching how it twitches.

The sight of him, so raw and eager, ignites a fire within you. You just want to ravish him or for him to ravish you.

You pause to savor the sight of him, every line and curve, every mark and scar telling a story of his strength and resilience. His form is nothing short of captivating, each imperfection only adding to his allure. You find yourself biting down on your lip, a mix of desire and adoration coursing through you.

You release the clasp of your bra, letting it cascade to the floor, joining the pile of discarded garments. Cupping your breasts with your hands, you bring them together, feeling their weight and softness against your palms. The hunger in Jimin's eyes intensifies, his gaze smoldering with desire as he emits a guttural groan, his longing palpable in the air.

You pinch your nipples as you moan, “Touch me Jimin.”

He doesn’t need a second invitation, his urgency palpable as he rises swiftly, his hands assertive as they press you down, swiftly removing your panties with an almost primal force, the fabric of the lace yielding to his determination. As his lips claim yours in a fervent kiss, his journey of passion descends, tracing a path from your mouth to the curve of your neck, lingering at each delicate contour, before cascading further, worshiping the expanse of your collarbones, and finally descending to the tender terrain of your chest.

His touch envelops your curves, a symphony of desire as his hand caresses your breasts, each kiss a testament to his adoration. “These tits,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “are so fucking beautiful.” His words, like velvet, echo with reverence, igniting a flame of passion that dances between you.

You can feel his dick on your wet pussy, and God, every fiber of your body yearns for him to just plunge into you like this.

He moves up from your chest, his eyes lock onto yours, ablaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, “Should we do each other at the same time?”

A surge of excitement pulses through you as you bite your lip, meeting his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and desire. Without hesitation, Jimin reclines, his eyes dark with longing. “Sit on my face, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need.

A shiver courses through you at his command, a soft moan escaping your lips as you position yourself above him with your head facing towards his dick, your breath hitching with anticipation. With trembling anticipation, you lower yourself onto his face, the electric sensation of his tongue against your most sensitive areas sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he expertly explores every curve and crevice, igniting a fire within you, you can’t help but lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

With a feverish urgency, your fingers wrap around his dick, eliciting a primal growl from deep within his chest as he bucks against your touch, his desire palpable in the air. Every stroke sends shivers down his spine, his breath growing ragged as you stoke the flames of his arousal, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of his tongue against your pussy.

You lower your head with a hungry eagerness, your tongue tracing a tantalizing path along his cock, teasing him. The tangy sweetness of his precum dances across your taste buds, igniting a fiery hunger within you as you savor the familiar flavor that never fails to drive you wild with longing.

Why does he always taste so good?

You stroke him slowly, relishing the way his cock pulses eagerly in your hands, aching to be engulfed by your warm, wet mouth. You’re acutely aware of the hunger in his gaze, even though you can’t see his eyes. You’re sure he longs to feel your mouth around his dick, just like you can’t wait for him to fill it up.

It’s almost impossible to concentrate on anything other than the electrifying sensation of Jimin’s skilled tongue exploring every inch of your aching pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each flick and swirl of his tongue feels like a symphony of ecstasy, igniting a firestorm of desire that consumes your every thought and leaves you gasping for more. It’s so hard to focus on his dick and you can’t help when you press your pussy more onto his face.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m gonna come soon,” you gasp, your voice a desperate plea as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm your senses. You can feel the heat building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to explode into ecstasy at any moment. His tongue works its magic with sinful expertise, driving you to the brink of oblivion with each tantalizing stroke.

As the overwhelming pleasure of his tongue’s expertise threatens to consume you entirely, you’re suddenly struck with a fierce need for him in return. Releasing his throbbing length from your grasp, you shift your focus, your hands now finding purchase on his strong thighs. With a hunger that burns as fervently as the desire coursing through your veins, you lower yourself onto him, welcoming his dick into the warmth of your mouth. As you close your lips around him, engulfing him in a dizzying sensation of heat and wetness, his response is immediate—a guttural cry that resonates with raw need and primal desire.

You begin to suck him and with each sultry movement of your lips, you draw him deeper, setting a rhythm that ignites a symphony of pleasure between you. His fervent thrusts match the urgency of your ministrations. Sensing his need, you yield further, allowing him to claim your mouth completely, your jaw slackening to accommodate his cock.

You surrender to the dual sensations coursing through you, each touch a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by desire. As he lavishes attention on your clit with fervent suction, you reciprocate with eager enthusiasm, welcoming him deeper into your mouth with each rhythmic thrust.

Your nails sink into the warmth of his flesh, urging him on with an intensity born of unbridled desire. With each press of your fingertips, you silently convey the urgency pulsating within you, a primal need for more, faster, harder. As his pace quickens in response to your silent plea, you find yourself teetering on the edge of euphoria, close to the brink of release.

Every nerve in your body ignites with a ferocious intensity, each sensation amplified tenfold as the coil of pleasure tightens within you, threatening to engulf your senses. Your toes curl involuntarily, a reflexive response to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through your veins. But you find yourself torn between the desire to alert Jimin to your impending climax and the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on your clit, sending waves of electric pleasure coursing through your body. As saliva pools in your mouth and tears of pleasure blur your vision, you surrender to the maelstrom of sensations, your grip on his thighs tightening with an urgency born of unbridled desire.

You don’t know how to alert him with his cock stuffed so good inside your mouth, but it’s too late anyway when you feel your pussy clenching hard.

As the waves of pleasure crash over you in a torrential downpour, Jimin’s relentless tongue continues its sensual assault, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through every fiber of your being. Your body convulses uncontrollably above him, each movement a testament to the overwhelming intensity of your release. With ragged breaths escaping through your nose, you vocalize your euphoria around his dick, your moans merging with the rhythmic thrusts of his hips as he continues to drive deeper into your quivering form.

Your body trembles with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure as Jimin’s tantalizing lips and sinful tongue work their magic, leaving you teetering on the edge of sanity. Just when you think you can’t take any more, a sharp spank ignites a jolt of electricity through your senses, urging you to lift your ass from his mesmerizing grasp.

With a soft pop, you relinquish his dick from your mouth, only to eagerly turn around on the couch, pulling him into a passionate kiss that sets your soul ablaze.

With a husky breath, he pulls back, his eyes smoldering with a primal hunger that sends a bolt of anticipation coursing through your veins. “God, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he growls, his voice dripping with raw desire.

“On all fours, ass up.”

His commanding tone sparks a delicious thrill, igniting a cascade of sensations that leave you trembling in anticipation. As he instructs you to assume the position, your body responds instinctively, a surge of heat flooding your core as you eagerly comply. Turning on the couch, you present yourself on all fours, your hands resting on the armrest, your ass raised in a provocative invitation that sets his primal instincts ablaze.

Jimin’s primal groan fills the room, his desire palpable as he beholds your enticing display. His teeth sink into his lip with a hunger that borders on desperation, so much so that he might draw blood, his gaze devouring every inch of your exposed form. With a possessive grip, his hands caress the curves of your ass, his touch igniting a fiery sensation that courses through your veins. Then, in a bold declaration of his desire, he delivers a sharp spank, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, your moan of delight echoing in the air.

“Fuck. This. Ass,” his voice drips with raw desire, his fingers tracing the contours of your ass with a feather-light touch that sends electric currents dancing across your skin. A rush of anticipation floods your senses, your pussy pulsating with need, aching for his touch. With each stroke of his fingers, your pussy clenches involuntarily, yearning for the sensation of him buried deep inside you.

He sits up, gets closer to you as he takes a moment to stroke himself, the anticipation mounting with each passing second. As he spreads your ass cheeks, you feel the heat of his cock radiating against your skin, your body trembling in anticipation as his dick teases your entrance, aching for the moment he fills you completely.

With your head nestled on the armrest, you brace yourself for the exquisite sensation of him entering you. As he pushes his dick into your slick folds, you revel in the delightful stretch, a familiar pleasure that never fails to ignite your senses. Your wetness provides a smooth glide, allowing him to effortlessly slide into your depths, each inch sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through your body.

“Jimin-ah!” You pant desperately as he reaches the hilt, your voice a breathy plea echoing through the room. With every pulse of his hardness inside your pulsating pussy, you feel an electric surge of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you completely.

“Move, please,” you plead, your voice a fervent prayer as you ache for his rhythm to ignite the blaze within you. All you crave is the sensation of him thrusting into you, to fuck you silly.

He grunts, a primal sound echoing in the room, as he withdraws from you with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch of your bodies against each other, before plunging back in, equally unhurried.

His hands, firm yet tender, mold into the curves of your ass, guiding each deliberate thrust as he establishes a rhythm of unhurried passion. With every stroke, his fingertips trace the lines of your skin, igniting a symphony of sensations that draw forth an involuntary moan of pleasure from deep within you.

His hand connects with a sharp slap against your skin, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body. The sudden sting is quickly followed by a surge of desire, igniting a primal need within you. His voice, laced with desire and dominance, breaks the silence as he leans in, breath hot against your ear, “You like this, don’t you?”

His tone carries a hint of menace, but beneath it all, there’s an undeniable allure that sends shivers down your spine. Despite the edge to his voice, it’s like music to your ears, stirring a primal longing deep within you. Your body reacts instinctively, tightening around his dick as a rush of heat floods your senses.

“Yes!” Your voice, muffled by the plush fabric of the armrest, comes out as a breathy plea, tinged with a mix of desire and desperation.

“Fuck me harder,” you plead with him.

“My love wants it harder?” As his words dance provocatively in the air, you can’t help but feel a rush of heat surging through your veins.

The playful sting of his palm against your skin ignites a primal fire within you, each slap echoing like a thunderous drumbeat, urging you further into the depths of ecstasy. With each resounding impact, the floodgates of desire open wider, drenching you in a wetness of arousal that threatens to consume every inch of your being.

“Yes!” Your voice reverberates through the room, a primal cry of desire echoing off the walls as you eagerly meet his every movement.

But just when you think you’ve reached the pinnacle of pleasure, grinding your ass into his dick, he takes control, his grip on your flesh tightening as he unleashes a torrent of raw thrusts. With each thunderous thrust, he fucks you with insane speed, leaving you gasping for breath.

You feel so fucking gone. He hits you so deep, his dick touching your g-spot repeatedly, making you see white spots blurring your vision. You’re panting furiously for air.

“You’re doing so good, love,” he pants, his voice a husky whisper as he strokes your ass, his praise a melody in your ears.

“Jimin, fuck, Jimin—” You pant feverishly, feeling your core tighten as you release a surge of liquid around his dick, coating him in your essence.

His hand connects with your ass in a stinging slap before his touch gentles, caressing the same spot. “So good for me, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire and affection.

His grip tightens on your hips, anchoring you to him as the rhythm of your bodies creates a symphony of skin-on-skin percussion that reverberates through the living room. Your fingers dig into the plush fabric of the armrest, muffling your moans as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

“Don’t silence yourself, love. I’m close,” he urges, his voice strained with the impending release as his thrusts become more urgent, each one driving you both closer to the edge.

You arch your back further, surrendering to his touch as his hand on your shoulder guides you closer, deeper into him. The sensation of him stretching you out sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, causing your eyes to roll back in sheer pleasure.

As he moans your name, his fingers grip the flesh of your hips and ass, holding you close as he releases inside you, filling you with his warm essence.

Your eyes snap open, meeting a pair of startled gazes—one belonging to Yoongi, the other to Taehyung. They stand frozen in the hallway, mouths agape, caught in an unexpected moment of intimacy that leaves them speechless.

Despite the sudden intrusion, Jimin doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to thrust into you. Embarrassment floods through you, but your body responds involuntarily, clenching around him. As you steal a glance, you catch the shift in Yoongi’s expression, his grin widening as he swiftly ushers a stunned Taehyung away from the unexpected scene they’ve stumbled upon.

“Aish! Oh my god! I never wanted to witness my brother doing that. I can never unsee it,” Taehyung’s exasperated voice echoes through the room as Yoongi swiftly escorts him out, the sound of the door opening and closing marking their hasty exit.

Your cheeks burn as you scold yourself for not hearing them entering the house. Fuck this is so humiliating!

Fuck. Did Jimin even notice?

Jimin’s deep, primal grunt resonates above you, his grip on your hips firm as the fusion of his essence and yours traces a sensual path from your pussy down to the couch. The thought of cleaning up later flits briefly through your mind, but that’s not currently what’s on your mind.

“Jimin, did you see them? They saw us!” Your voice trembles with embarrassment, a veil of crimson coating your cheeks as he withdraws from you. With a whirl of nervous energy, you spin around, anticipation and apprehension swirling in your gaze, unsure of what awaits in the aftermath of your indiscretion.

“Yeah. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before,” he chuckles, his nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to the flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he dismisses any concern, seemingly unfazed by the fact that his brother and friend just bore witness to the raw intensity of him fucking you on the couch.

“They’ve never actually seen us in the act before!” Your words quiver with a mix of mortification and disbelief, a nervous energy pulsating through your veins. As you speak, a torrent of thoughts floods your mind, the realization dawning upon you that this isn’t the first instance of Jimin’s cavalier attitude toward almost getting caught.

A nagging suspicion takes root, whispering that maybe he’s more of an exhibitionist than you initially realized, his nonchalance hinting at a hidden desire to be seen and desired.

“Relax, everything will be alright,” he soothes, his words a balm to your frazzled nerves as he descends to kiss you with a fervor that steals your breath away. In that fleeting moment, his lips melding with yours in a passionate embrace, the world falls away, and the weight of their discovery fades into insignificance.

But the embarrassment returns tenfold, making you blush nervously.

You burst through the door, the cool night air enveloping you in its embrace as you step onto the dimly lit porch. There, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight, you find both Yoongi and Taehyung, their silhouettes etched against the darkness like guardians of the night, their presence casting a sense of both comfort and nervousness as you join them under the star-studded sky.

Despite feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment, an earnest desire to apologize gnaws at you, urging you to seek redemption for the awkward encounter they witnessed earlier. However, as your gaze locks with theirs, a wave of crimson floods your cheeks.

“I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that,” you blurt out, the weight of your remorse heavy in your voice as you hastily grab a nearby chair, seeking solace in its familiarity. With a deep breath, you settle into your seat, mustering the courage to meet the gaze of both men, your eyes pleading for forgiveness and understanding amidst the awkward tension that hangs in the air.

Yoongi’s laughter fills the night air, a reassuring melody that eases the tension swirling around you. “It’s all good,” he reassures with a grin, his words carrying a playful charm that lifts the weight off your shoulders. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he adds, “And hey, I gotta give credit where it’s due— you’ve got quite a nice pair of tits there.”

“Yoongi!” Your voice rises, cheeks ablaze with a fiery hue that mirrors the heat surging through your body.

“You’re gay, for heaven’s sake! Why were you even looking?” The mix of incredulity and embarrassment colors your words as you groan, feeling like you've been caught in a whirlwind of awkwardness and heat.

“I’m only human, aren’t I? Even I have eyes,” he retorts with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, the glint in his eye unapologetically rebellious. “And let’s be honest, a nice pair of tits is something anyone can appreciate,” he adds, punctuating his declaration with a casual sip of his beer, his nonchalant demeanor daring you to challenge his unabashed honesty.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, a silent testament to the shock that grips him, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that speaks volumes. In the hushed moment that follows, his silence echoes louder than words, hinting at the depth of his surprise and leaving you to wonder what thoughts race behind his startled expression.

“I’m truly sorry, Tae,” you confess, your words heavy with remorse, but as you speak, you notice his gaze drifting past you, as if unable to meet your eyes directly. It’s as though his sight is fixed on some distant point, his avoidance speaking volumes about the weight of his own thoughts and emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“You really shouldn’t do that where just anyone could stumble upon you,” he advises in a hushed tone, his voice carrying the weight of a clandestine revelation. “And for everyone’s sake, remember to lock the door next time,” he adds, his tone laced with a palpable sense of having witnessed something he'd rather erase from memory.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, your words carrying the weight of genuine remorse as you seek to mend the discomfort lingering in the air.

“I never wanted to witness my brother in such a way,” he grits through clenched teeth, his fingers pressing against his closed eyelids in a futile attempt to erase the images burned into his mind. “Seeing too much of both my brother and sister-in-law... it’s like a stain on my memory,” he confesses, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and discomfort, as if grappling with the irreversibility of what he’s witnessed.

“I’m truly, deeply sorry,” you mumble once more, the weight of regret heavy in your voice as you reflect on the discomfort your actions caused them. The image of you and Jimin in that compromising position hangs in the air, an undeniable reminder of a moment you wish could be erased from memory entirely.

Yoongi’s laughter erupts like a thunderclap, breaking the tension with its raw, unrestrained force. “Welcome to the country,” he chuckles, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and nonchalance. “Get used to it. People fuck where they can around here. Hobi and I once stumbled upon them making lovely noises in the stables,” he shares with a mischievous glint in his eye, as if unveiling a scandalous secret of the country’s unconventional norms.

Taehyung’s eyes widen in disbelief, the shock evident in the trembling of his lips as he utters, “Is nowhere sacred?”

“Yoongi! You promised never to speak of that again!” You hiss through gritted teeth, your cheeks ablaze with the heat of embarrassment.

Yoongi’s laughter intensifies, a raucous melody that dances on the edge of defiance. “It’s just a natural act— it’s just sex,” he remarks, his tone casual as he lifts the beer to his lips for another sip.

“No need to get your panties in a twist,” he adds, the nonchalant shrug in his demeanor daring you to challenge the simplicity with which he views such intimate moments.

“Hey. Not all of us enjoy watching other people have sex,” Taehyung interjects, his voice carrying a note of reprimand, his arms folding across his chest in a stance of firm disapproval.

“Sorry. We didn’t mean for you to see it,” you gulp, feeling the weight of his disapproval settle heavily upon you. You grasp the gravity of his words; it’s not as though you relish being under scrutiny. It was an unplanned moment of passion. Yet, the realization dawns that you must exercise greater caution in the future.

“I couldn’t care less,” Yoongi rasps, his tone edged with a hint of amusement. “In fact, I’m thrilled you’re getting dick,” he adds with a smirk, his words laced with a playful irreverence that cuts through the tension.

Taehyung coughs abruptly, a spluttering fit seizing him as his beer takes a perilous detour down the wrong passage, his eyes widening in alarm as he struggles to regain composure amidst the unexpected onslaught.

You cast a concerned glance his way, your instinctive response guiding your hand to rest gently on his back, offering a reassuring touch in his moment of distress.

You chuckle nervously, stealing a glance at Yoongi, your cheeks ablaze with a mixture of embarrassment and unabashed honesty. “It’s really good dick,” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness. “Probably the best I’ve ever had,” you confess, your words carrying the weight of a guilty pleasure you can’t quite resist.

Taehyung continues to cough, his struggle for breath punctuating the air with urgency, until finally, with a resigned groan, he declares, “And this is my cue to leave.”

With a lingering glance filled with a mixture of discomfort and amusement, Taehyung slips away, his departure palpable in the weight of his heavy breaths echoing in the wake of his exit, leaving the two of you to grapple with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.

“Did we push him too far?” You offer a wry smile, the regret evident in the furrow of your brow as you grapple with the realization that Taehyung was undoubtedly made uncomfortable by the situation.

“He will be fine. He needs to grow up,” Yoongi leans in, his demeanor conspiratorial as he gestures towards the table, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “But let’s get back to the real topic at hand. Tell me more about Jimin’s dick,” he continues, his tone suggestive as he shifts the conversation back to the matter of Jimin's prowess.

Your cheeks flare with renewed heat, betraying your unease as a nervous chuckle escapes your lips. “Hold on, are you getting off on this?” You inquire incredulously, your disbelief evident as you ponder the motivations behind his eagerness to delve deeper into the topic.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not at all. I’m just looking out for you, as your best friend,” he reassures, the sincerity in his tone cutting through any lingering doubts. “I’ve got enough dick in my life,” he adds with a casual sip of his beer, before continuing, “But if you ever need to share or talk about it, you know I’m here. You probably don’t want to talk to your sister or Jungkook about it.”

You groan, a mix of frustration and reluctant acknowledgment washing over you, because deep down, you know he’s spot-on. Sharing such intimate details with your sister or Jungkook? Absolutely out of the question.

As you ponder, you realize you’re not exactly prudish, but the thought of discussing sex openly still makes you squirm. Yet, you also recognize the importance of breaking free from societal taboos surrounding the topic. It’s something you’re determined to improve upon, because there shouldn’t be any shame attached to open dialogue about such a natural aspect of human experience.

Leaning in closer, you confide, “Let me tell you, Jimin’s got some serious skills with both his dick and his tongue. It’s... impressive, to say the least, and that’s all I’m gonna share for now,” you admit, a nervous chuckle bubbling up as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Despite the embarrassment, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride in yourself for opening up about such intimate details with your best friend.

“I’m happy for you, truly,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his sincerity. In response, you can’t help but return the smile, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you as you bask in the warmth of your cherished friendship.

“What about you and Hobi?” you inquire, the lingering blush of embarrassment gradually receding from your cheeks, replaced by a genuine curiosity about your friend’s own romantic endeavors.

He reclines in his chair, a contented smile gracing his lips. “It’s great, actually. Better than ever,” he shares, his voice laced with affection and a profound sense of happiness. “I love him more than words can express,” he adds, his gaze distant yet filled with the warmth of unwavering devotion.

As you nod in understanding, a surge of warmth floods your chest as you catch the unmistakable gleam of adoration in his eyes whenever Hoseok’s name is mentioned. It’s a sight that fills you with a sense of profound joy, your heart swelling with the love that radiates between them, leaving you unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face.

“I’m genuinely happy. For both of us,” you declare, the overflow of love within you akin to a flurry of delicate butterflies taking flight in your chest. Just as the moment envelops you in its warmth, the door swings open, and Jimin emerges, joining you and Yoongi.

“And I can’t wait to marry the love of my life,” you proclaim, your voice brimming with anticipation and affection as you reach for Jimin’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he settles beside you. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a blaze of love that courses between you, enveloping you both in a cocoon of intimacy and security. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel as though time could stand still, and you wouldn’t mind one bit.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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