#the stages of emotions ive gone through about these two

[walnutofthedead]

Can u do Yandere! Mikoto reacting to Gn! Reader leaving/escaping him and he find them later.

The Seven Stages of Grief - Yandere!Kayano Mikoto / GN! Reader

// Of course! I’m about a year late, but i hope you still can enjoy, anon! and hopefully ive also gotten a bit better at writing lmao

Content warnings: Reference to suicide, breaking and entering.

Kayano Mikoto is a normal guy. There’s nothing special about him whatsoever. He’s got a regular job, a regular home, a regular life, and a regular, loving partner.

Well… that last one may not be entirely true. However, ignorance is bliss for Mikoto. It’s the giddy excitement he feels every time he returns home to you. It’s the way he feels as if he’s on cloud nine at the mere thought of you. He’s a simple man, really. Easy to earn the trust of, so long as he cares for you. He allowed you all the freedom you could ever want, granted that you stayed with him.

So, why was it that you left him? He provided you with everything he could. He gave you the world, and yet you still managed to slip out from between his tired fingers. Had it been the lack of quality time..? He tried to spend time with you, he really did. Every waking moment that he wasn’t working himself to the brittle bone at the design firm he spent with you. *Fawning* over you.

So, imagine his surprise when he returns home from work one day, expecting to see his lovely partner there waiting for him, only to find you gone. Gone, gone, gone.

Shock.

Why? He couldn’t comprehend it. Days went by where he was too shell-shocked to do anything. Life seemed unreal. Like everything he did wasn’t truly him. Like he was simply a spectator, watching himself try to act as if nothing had happened. His stomach perpetually twisted into knots, heart hardly able to maintain its steady beat that had gone on for you alone. He’d find himself constantly forgetting what he was doing, his mind having wandered to you. Trying to process it. You couldn’t have left him. You wouldn’t. You had no reason to.

Denial.

You must just be hiding from him, waiting for him to find you, he reasons through the thick fog of twisted, loving delusion muddling his mind. Everyday, he calls out your name as he arrives home. He scours his apartment, practically turning the place inside out in hopes of just a sign of you. Maybe someone took you. Someone took you or you got lost. Because surely, you wouldn’t ever leave the one who loves you so just as he does. He’s convinced himself of this fact.

He’s put posters up of you, offering any amount of money to anyone who brings you back to him. After all, he’s gone through so much to ensure that everyone knows you two are happily together. Mikoto even ends up filing a missing persons report. And of course, people try and help him. Who wouldn’t help poor, sweet, kind, Mikoto whose lover has gone missing? He’ll do anything. Give any sum of money, material, whatever. He wouldn’t be above killing if it meant he could have you back.

Bargaining.

He’s lost it. He’s desperate. He *needs* you back. He’s gone to anyone who he knows has any connection to you at all, offered them everything he can give if they can even provide so much as a hint as to your whereabouts. And, no matter who he asks, he always ends up the with the same tight feeling in his chest. A seething rage. At them for not knowing, or at you for leaving..? He can’t tell.

Anger.

An uncontrollable urge to hurt someone. Hit something. To reach a hand to his chest and tear the skin apart, caving in on himself as he screams at the top of his anguished lungs. He’s gotten.. noticeably more aggressive, according to his coworkers. His boss as well has even shown a rare sense of concern for him and his wellbeing. Or maybe he was just being a hindrance. A hindrance that was still too valuable to permanently let go of. Regardless, he was put on paid leave for emotional health. Not that he got any say in the matter. Upon arriving home that day, time seemed to flash by. One moment he was opening the door, tired stare blankly caressing the air of the apartment in which you once resided. The next, he was standing at the opposite wall, panting as wet tears burned his eyes and a hot sense of pain scraped his hand that was now in the wall. What was the wall. He’d need to get that hole fixed. So if you returned, you wouldn’t have to deal with it.

…

Who was he kidding? You weren’t coming back. If you did, you’d certainly turn your nose up at the pathetic excuse for a man he had become.

Depression.

Life has become a repetitive nightmare of mundanity. It was dull. Fruitless, gray. Simply getting out of bed and doing basic things such as eating and drinking had become such a chore. He’d simply stare at the ceiling, lying in bed and wasting away as his thoughts did nothing but yearn for your presence.

Was there even a point to continuing to live his life if you weren’t in it?

He’s cut all contact either anyone at this point. Several had noticed his absence and grown concerned. The once friendly, kind-hearted man had become an unreachable, miserable lump of flesh. They’d knock on his door, try to check up on him, even leave him care packages at times. He’d like to say he appreciated it, but they did nothing to fill the world-breaking void your absence has left within.

He desperately needed something. Anything. Whatever it would take to stop this horrible empty feeling.

Testing.

He actually did try to find someone to replace you. Deep down, he knew nobody would ever have him as enraptured as you, as absolutely enamored and giddy with love. He went online. He went out. He sat through countless dates, yet his mind only ever wandered back to you.

He couldn’t take it. Really. He’d had enough. Nothing could soothe the horrible, perpetual aching.

He was done. Done with everyone, done with you, done with life itself. As he moped at home, he saw something. It was a piece of clothing that he had hung up. One he had designed specially for you and had made in hopes of someday seeing you in it. Of seeing you appreciate him and his work.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t live without you. Mikoto found himself shakily walking to the kitchen, staring longingly at the sharpened blade of one of his knives. It wouldn’t be so bad if he were to give up, would it?

Ding!

His phone loudly blared in his ear, drawing his attention momentarily to the blinding light of the screen. It was a text. He sighed and turned back to the blade. Wait, did he see a mention of your name? He hurriedly grabbed his phone, his full attention now on the device.

A friend had messaged him. They saw you out in public.

He just about threw his phone. This was the first time in months he had responded to a message so quickly.

Where? He needed to know.

Upon attaining that information, he threw on a sweater and rushed over, nearly crashing his bike on the way with how the rush of giddy excitement he felt clouded his mind.

Finally, he got there.

A gasp escaped his lips. From a distance, he got a glimpse of the face of his beloved. Was it truly real? He dismounted his bike, stealthily making his way to you. It might just be the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life, not running at you and wrapping his arms around you right then and there. He stared at you in awe, as if you were some sort of angel sent from the heavens. A blessing. His blessing. He stayed there until you left. Followed you when you made your way home.

…

How long had it been, a week? Probably around that long. He did nothing but follow and watch you. He relearned your daily routines. When you were alone. When you weren’t.

On the seventh day, he made his decision.

It was a dark, moonless night. You had just happened to leave your window open. He’d waited too long. He couldn’t handle it anymore.

Before Mikoto knew it, he was in your room. His arms were around you, jolting you awake from your slumber. Finally, he had you back. And he wasn’t ever going to let you go again.

Acceptance.

[cg29fics]

Gone

Had issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The full complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list.

@janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

NOTE: Medical details were researched with additional help coming from a friend who worked in a hospital.

Previous. Chapter 35

Chapter 36. Arrested.

Scott looked at his brother lying unconscious on the bed. “Virg, don’t do this!” He begged, shaking him. “Please wake up!”

“Scott, I need you to move now!” Dr Sylvia ordered.

Scott quickly moved to where the rest of his family were now standing and watched helplessly as his brother's face began to turn grey. Upon gaining clear access, Doctor Sylvia immediately felt for a pulse with his one hand and pressed the emergency button with the other.

Within seconds, two nurses immediately rushed into the room. “What happened?” The one asked, grabbing an emergency bag and handing the doctor a Guedel’s airway.

“Respiratory arrest!” Doctor Sylvia stated, inserting the airway into Virgil’s throat. “Call the MERT team now!”

“On my way!” The other nurse said running out of the room.

“And call security!” Doctor Sylvia shouted after her. He grabbed the air-viva bag from the nurse, placed the mask over Virgil’s face, and rhythmically squeezed breaths into Virgil’s lungs. After a few seconds, although he was currently still lifeless, Virgil’s colour began to slowly improve.

“Do we know what happened?” The nurse questioned, as they continued to work together to keep Virgil alive.

Doctor Gerry Sylvia indicated the discarded syringe that had been abandoned by Virgil’s IV. “This man,” Doctor Sylvia replied, indicating the unconscious Hood who was still slumped on the floor, “he was seen injecting an unknown substance into Virgil’s drip.”

“His he okay?” The nurse asked beginning to move towards the Hood.

“He’ll be fine, Virgil's the one not breathing… We can deal with him later!” Doctor Gerry Sylvia ordered.

The nurse nodded, snapped on some gloves and placed the syringe in a kidney dish. Meanwhile, the other nurse hurried back into the room and quickly informed them that the MERT team were now on their way.

Gerry glanced worriedly at the family as he continuously worked on Virgil. “Nurse, can you take them into the hallway?”

“Of course!” The nurse replied observing the family, who were now in various stages of shock. “Can you please follow me?” None of them moved, oblivious to the nurse, as they all remained transfixed on Virgil. “This way!” She repeated.

Scott was the first to awaken from the haze he was under. “No, I’m not leaving him!” He stammered, beginning to shake from the shock at seeing his younger brother looking so lifeless.

The nurse smiled sympathetically. “I understand that you don’t want to leave him, but the doctors will need the space to work on your brother, okay?”

Scott bowed his head and with tears in his eyes moved out of the room, his brothers and his grandma following closely behind, each of them in a dazed state.

“Sir, this way.” The nurse requested, noticing Jeff hadn't moved, and was now staring furiously at the Hood. “Sir, you really need to come with me… Don’t worry about that man, we’ll make sure that security deals with him!”

“This man,” Jeff growled, “this man, is the reason my son is in this hospital. He’s tortured him… And put him through so much physical and emotional pain! And now… Now he’s gone and hurt him again… And this time… My son might actually die!” Jeff’s voice trailed off as he felt tears of rage beginning to swell up in his eyes.

“Sir, please come with me!” The nurse urged once more.

Reaching down Jeff grabbed the Hood by the scruff of his collar. “Oh, I'm coming nurse… And so is he!” Jeff snapped, flinging the Hood into the hallway. Jeff began charging towards him, coming to an immediate stop, when he saw the MERT team making their way into Virgil’s room with the resuscitation trolley. “Oh, God… No!” Jeff cried sinking to the floor.

The MERT team raced into the room and within seconds they had immediately pulled the bed away from the wall, removed the bed head, and ensured that Virgil was lying flat. Doctor Sylvia gave a quick synopsis of Virgil’s condition to the ICU doctor, who had arrived with the MERT team, while continuing to bag oxygen into Virgil. The ICU doctor began listening to Virgil’s chest, while the nurses placed electrodes onto him, took his obs, inserted extra fluids into his IV, and checked his pupils.

“Okay, let’s intubate! Give him 10 of Vec.” The ICU doctor ordered.

The nurse drew up some fluids into a syringe and injected it into Virgil’s drip, she then opened some draws on the resuscitation trolley, taking out numerous pieces of equipment and handing them to the doctor. Within seconds, the ICU doctor inserted a clear plastic tube into Virgil's throat and immediately attached it to another machine.

As soon as the MERT team had gone into Virgil’s room, the nurse who had taken them outside helped Jeff to his feet, leading him and the rest of the family further up the corridor, and away from the distressing scenes. “The doctor will come out and talk to you as soon as he can. Will you be okay while I just check on these two?” She questioned, indicating the two security guards who were now waking up after being knocked out.

“Yes,” Ruth Tracy nodded, taking a comforting hold of Jeff’s arm.

“Good.” The Nurse replied.

Scott glared at the two Security Guards, instantly stopping when he saw the glazed look in their eyes. “They were hypnotised.”

“Doesn’t surprise me!” John frowned, glaring at the Hood, who was now beginning to regain consciousness. “Hey!” He yelled when he noticed the Hood starting to get up. “Where do you think, you’re going?” John stormed towards the Hood, seized him by the throat, pinned him against the wall, and leaned aggressively into his face. “What did you give my brother?” The Hood remained silent, shocked at the suddenness in which he had been grabbed. “What did you give him?”

The Hood let out a chilling laugh. “That would be telling!”

“Tell me!” John threatened, clutching the Hood's throat even tighter.

“Can’t breathe!” The Hood gasped, struggling against the tightness that was now being applied to his neck.

“Neither can my brother!” John roared, delivering a sharp punch to his stomach. “Now, what did you give him?”

“Come on Sir, I think he’s had enough!” The nurse ordered, trying to pull John away from the Hood.

“Yes, and so as my brother!” John retorted back, delivering another sharp blow to the Hood’s stomach. “He’s all yours!” John grunted, throwing the Hood back onto the floor, before making his way back over to his dad, grandma and brothers who were all staring at him completely stunned by the reaction the normally placid man had displayed.

The nurse began examining the Hood, while another security guard, who had just arrived, made sure he didn’t try to run. A few moments later, Doctor Gerry Sylvia made his way out of the room and headed towards Jeff.

Upon seeing the Doctor, the Hood let out a chilling laugh. “We did all that we could!” He cackled.

Doctor Sylvia stared at the Hood, shook his head, and focussed his attention on Jeff and his family.

“How’s my boy?” Jeff asked, terrified at what he may be told.

“He’s stable for now!”

“What?” The Hood snarled. While Jeff, his mother and all four boys released an intense breath of relief, each one trying to hold back the tears.

Ignoring the Hood, Doctor Sylvia continued. “As you know Virgil stopped breathing and because of this the ICU Doctor had to intubate him. Basically, he’s put a tube in his throat and a ventilator is now breathing for him and he will be taken to the Intensive Care Unit shortly. Thankfully, his heart rate and rhythm are still normal, and his pupils are also reacting as they should. This gives us a good indication that we managed to get oxygen to him in time and that his brain function will be okay. Unfortunately, at this stage we don’t know what he was given. However, once he’s in the ICU ward they will be able to investigate and see what further treatment is required.”

“When can I see him?” Jeff questioned.

“They are just prepping Virgil to be moved now, you will be able to see him as he goes past, but they won’t be able to stop. Someone will show you the way to the ward, and once you are there you will have to remain in the waiting room while they set everything up. As soon as Virgil is settled then you will be able to be with him then.”

Jeff shook Doctor Sylvia’s hand, thanking him for all that he had done.

Doctor Sylvia turned towards the nurse. “Have you seen Doctor Sanderson and Nurse Andrews anywhere? When the nurse shook her head Doctor Sylvia frowned. “If you do can you please tell them I would like to see them both in my office?”

The Hood released a mocking laugh which resonated down the hallway. “Oh no! Looks like the game is up!” Everyone looked at the Hood in confusion. “Oh, come on!” He started. “The doc here's obviously worked out something is going on with that doctor and nurse!”

“What are you saying?” Jeff demanded.

“Do you really think I managed to gain access to the hospital and Virgil’s room without any help… Think about it?” The Hood let out another mocking laugh. “Nurse Maria Andrews or Doctor Emily Sanderson… One of those two women helped me… She was even in the room before you showed up… And she certainly wasn’t hypnotised… She’s been very willing to help me this entire time! Don’t you think it’s weird that they are not here right now? Obviously one of them as got a genuine excuse… But the other… Well, I’m sure she will come up with something convincing!”

All of them gazed at each other, surprised at the accusations that had been made against Nurse Andrews and Doctor Emily Sanderson who they had all trusted. The Hood grinned to himself when everyone’s focus, including the security guard who had been watching him closely, shifted. Sensing his only opportunity, the Hood attempted to make his escape.

“Quick… He’s trying to run!” Alan warned.

The security guard darted after the Hood, grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to the floor. The Hood began struggling, eventually freeing himself from the man’s grasp, and tried to run in the opposite direction, coming to a sudden halt when he saw the barricade that had been quickly formed by John and Alan. Swinging himself around with the intention of trying again in the opposite direction, the Hood now found Jeff, Scott, and Gordon with the guard blocking the other exit.

“You're not going anywhere!” Gordon snapped, knocking him to the floor.

The Hood picked himself up and snarled at Gordon, spinning himself around in a full circle desperately searching for an escape route. Eventually, the Hood charged at Alan, believing that because he was the youngest it would mean that he was the weakest.

Alan however, proved him wrong by delivering a sharp punch to his face, causing the Hood to fall backwards onto the floor. “That’s for my brother!”

“Wow… Nice left hook there Alan!” Scott remarked.

Alan grinned. “No one hurts one of my big brothers and gets away with it!”

The Hood sluggishly pulled himself to his feet and stumbled in the opposite direction, only to be stopped by Scott, forcibly pushing him back to the floor. “As my brother said… You're not going anywhere!” Scott hissed.

The Hood now glared at them all. “You will never stop me!” He taunted, clambering back to his feet and quickly spinning around again. This time he propelled himself forwards straight through John and Alan. Unluckily for the Hood, Ruth Tracy had been standing behind them, and when she saw him make his mad dash she prepared herself, and swung her heavy handbag around his face causing him to topple backwards and fall once more! Wearily pulling himself to his feet the Hood began to stare down Jeff. “I will destroy you Jeff Tracy! I’ve already done it before… I killed that precious wife of yours… I will take the life of that damn boy… And then the lives of each one of your sons… You will pay Jeff Tracy!”

Jeff shook his head as the Hood continued to babble on, making all kinds of further threats against him and his family. Finally, Jeff had simply had enough. “Oh, shut up!” He stated, delivering another blow to the Hood’s face, which rendered him unconscious once more.

The nurse, who had hidden out of arms way, scurried forwards and quickly checked the Hood over, confirming to the security guard that he was okay to be moved. The guard pulled the Hood up into his arms and carried him away. Stating that he was going to place him somewhere more secure until the police finally arrived. Jeff, his boys and mother all exhaled in relief. Glad that the Hood had finally be taken out and would soon be back in prison.

Gordon looked up and down the hallway. “Where's the doc got too?”

“I'm here,” Doctor Gerry Sylvia said stepping out of Virgil's room. “I wanted to make sure that Virgil wasn't brought out during all that commotion.” Doctor Sylvia popped his head back in the doors and said something to the team inside, then after a few seconds the doors swung open.

The family all grew silent as they watched the MERT team slowly wheel Virgil out of his room, each one of them shocked and distraught at what they were observing. Virgil was covered in wires and there was so much equipment placed on the bed and around him. These included, an oxygen cylinder, the discarded syringe which was still in the kidney dish, and a chart. There was also a monitor which was beating in time with the rhythm of his heart and another machine hushing with the movements of his chest. Amongst all this machinery lay Virgil, his eyes tightly shut. He looked small and completely helpless with the tube protruding from his mouth, and the breathing apparatus taped into position with some form of cloth, which was also wrapped firmly around his head.

In desperation to be at Virgil’s side, Jeff stepped towards him but was immediately held back by Doctor Sylvia. “Don’t worry, you can be with him soon!”

Jeff stopped himself and pushed his hands through his hair, frustrated at not being able to escort his son to the ICU.

“Could you please escort the family?” Doctor Sylvia asked the nurse.

“Of course,” she confirmed.

Doctor Sylvia faced Jeff. “Okay, the nurse here will be taking you to the ICU… I will make sure you are kept updated on when the Hood is taken into custody and I’ll let you know what's happening with Doctor Sanderson and Nurse Andrews.”

“Thank you.” Jeff replied, looking anxious to leave.

The nurse smiled at the family. “Are you all ready?”

Jeff nodded, took his mother’s hand, and signalled for his boys to follow the nurse.

… …

Meanwhile: The Hood’s Hideout.

The woman stood watching the monitors, that had previously been set up for the Hood. She had decided to retreat here after the family had shown up. Safe in the knowledge that the Hood would get his revenge, but now everything that could have gone wrong, had! She breathed out in frustration, gazing at her now bandaged hand, that Virgil had bitten. Not only had the Hood's plan failed, he had gone and got himself arrested, and had also suggested that either herself or her work colleague were an accomplice. “How could he do that?” She growled. She should have guessed that he would betray her. The man was notorious! The amount of people who had helped him in the past, who had ended up either dead or in jail was exceptionally high. Although, the small percent that had come through for him had been handsomely rewarded. So, she had decided to take the risk, believing that she had the potential to pull things off! But she had failed, spectacularly, and had come out of it with zero monetary gain. Continuing to ponder her thoughts, she reflected on her past. She had pulled of other schemes before and managed to get away, free of any information regarding her involvement being known. This time however, it was entirely her own fault! She had not followed her usual protocols and because of the cockiness she had displayed at allowing him to see her face there was a strong possibility that she would be arrested. Pacing the room, she continued to reflect over what needed to be done. She knew that she needed to make sure that any plan she did form succeeded. The easy part would be securing her innocence with everyone. Well, ‘manipulating and lying to people were her speciality.’ The second part though, that wouldn't be so easy to implement! Now that Virgil was on the ICU ward, it would be difficult to gain any sort of access to him, but she knew that she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t want to go to prison! Eventually, a beaming smile spread across her face. Whatever she did, she knew that she could and would turn things around. Virgil, may have had the audacity to go and survive but she would make sure that she finally silenced him once and for all!

Next C37. Waiting Room

NEXT: Chapter 37.

Next. Chapter 37. Waiting Room

Next. Chapter 37. Waiting Room.

[demonkeeperdark]

This is going to be a loooonnnnnggggg story so I'm having to put it under a keep reading line lol

For those curious - this is a recent experience I had at a metallica weekend concert which waz the best weekend of my life

My dad had gotten me metallica tickets for my birthday in April for night one w/pantera and mammoth WVH because I had never thought I would ever see pantera in my life (Due to Dimebags tragic incident) and I had already seen 5FDP last year when Megadeth opened up for them. A few days ago before the concert I found out that we had accidentally gotten both day tickets. I was stoked because I had been thinking how cool it would be to see 5FDP again along with metallica twice in one weekend. We carefully planned out our weekend because I was not going to let my dad waste those tickets let alone we had 2 more- One for his girlfriend and originally one of his buddies who backed out. I pulled along my boyfriend since 1) hes never been to a concert and 2) metallica is also his favorite band so if he saw them as his first band I thought- well shit- if I was in his position I wouldve been fucking stoked (best part he said the weekend was his best weekend ever)

Friday morning we skipped school and work and shot immediately down to LA to avoid traffic (if you live in California or have at least driven through LA at least once you know what i mean) and had to find somewhere to stay the night and get ready for the first night.

We get to the stadium and find our seats and hear Mammoth WVH first and ive never heard any of their music and it was very good (highly recommend listening to them) and I was slowly getting more hyped. Pantera came up and- Phil Anselmo gets out there on stage in fucking board shorts and no damn shoes on his feet and hella made the entire stadium straight up go fucking crazy. So well fucking performed that night. We had about an hour wait before metallica and when they came up playing Creeping Death- like holy fuck??? Just straight up slapped in the face by this godly fucking music ive only heard in the car- on my headphones through either phone or cd player- through my record player- and now I get to hear it for real...right there...and oh my god, I felt like i was in a dream all day that day, and this wasnt even the best part of this weekend- and I felt so fucking amazed. The next 2 were Harvester Of Sorrow and Leper Messiah and it sounded so fucking good...2 very good songs I wasnt expecting them to play but holy shit- it was worth it. On came The Memory Remains- the entire stadium was singing- you could hear your own voice align with everyone elses... And then it was Lux Æterna- and then it was Too Far Gone?... It was great- it was amazing. Rob and Kirk had a little bit of a "doodle"... And they looked like they were having fucking fun. Next they played Fade To Black, and I started getting emotional...then they played Shadows Follow which is my favorite off the new album which brought my emotions back up- Just to get myself lost into listening to Orion...and Nothing Else Matters really kicked me in the feels...

Sad But True played and my bf got really hyped since it was one of his favorites off the black album, and once again i got hit in the feels with The Day That Never Comes....

And once again Hardwired brought my energy and emotions up and when Fuel hit my dad and I went full on screaming the song to each other and watching the pyro and flames go off.

Metallica all paused for a second and went...

"We have time for a couple more songs...how do you all feel about...SEEK?"

I didnt hear the first "seek", but fucking hell...my bf lit up like a light bulb...

And then fucking Master Of Puppets to finish off put that cherry on top.

And all i could think off was...

I get to see them.

Again.

In two

Fucking

Days.

NIGHT 2

Hyped as shit.

I get to see 5FDP Again.

I get to see fucking Metallica Again.

My phone dies...

So I think welp I'm fucked if I want to take photos and videos for myself but eh I get to enjoy it in person, I dont really need my phone and I cant complain about just seeing it and everyone else could record it and take photos so we could all look at it later together or something and have fun with it

It was hotter this night compared to the first, so before we ran to our seats we got drinks and I ended up cutting my hand open on a water bottle but I didn't let it bother me much

We went to our seats and started getting settled and this guy came up with what looks to be a VIP ticket slung around his neck and an envelope in his hand and goes

"Hey how are you guys tonight?"

My dad with his audacity goes

"Well my daughter got a cut on her hand from a water bottle a bit ago but this is her late birthday present and shes not letting that bring her down so I think were doing great!"

"Fucking sick!" This guy replies and says, "Hey you know what?" He puts his hand into the envelope...

4.

Fucking.

Snake Pit Wristbands.

He hands them to us along with guitar picks that my bf took so fucking many of and walks away saying

"You guys will be down there, have fun"

I start balling my eyes out.

I couldnt believe all of this was happening, we were trying to find our way down and I'm just crying while everyone was taking turns guiding me down and I stand there in this field and I look around really questioning if I'm asleep and I'm just tripping on drugs or if I'm literally in the middle of the snake pit and imagining how fucking cool James Hetfield is going to look standing there in front of me where I was standing against the wall.

I must've lost it for another 15 minutes before I came to my senses and actually started getting hyped for all this because everyone would be right there in front of me.

A few minutes later Ice Nine Kills performs and I also havent heard much of their music but they were badass, all dressed up and acting like they were killing people on stage and it looked so cool yet if you were where I was it also looked so fake at the same time but it was fucking great.

They ended and 5FDP was up next and the first time I saw them it was another situation where I was at the top of the stadium and i just saw them from a distance but now I could actually see them right in front of me.

And then they came up.

Holy shit.

I was so excited to see them again and right there that I couldn't stop jumping (literally) and I had more energy then everyone else in the pit for them to the point I had Ivan Moody, Zoltan Bathory, AND Chris Kael point at me at least once.

They started wrapping things up when Zoltan Came over, points at me, and throws a pick directly at me, and I had everyone around me trying to catch it before I did but I got it directly thrown at me and caught it and I got so happy I shook my bf, dad, and his girlfriend.

Next thing to you they played The Bleeding and Chris comes over and points at me while playing his bass guitar and we looked at each other and both lip sang to the song and I got more excited over that then getting the pick.

When they started leaving the stage he came back and gave me his sweatband that has his last name imprinted on it and I couldnt fucking take it.

It was so fucking cool and badass and I didnt stop wearing it till a couple hours ago when I could finally put it somewhere safe.

Everyone started crowding in for metallica and we all started getting crowded in, and once AC/DC's A Long Way To The Top started playing everyone got really excited and hyped and crowding in more.

Everyone also started looking at Jason Mamoa amd taking photos of him in the snake pit with us before metallica came out.

After Metallicas long cutscene/intro finished they came out and played Whiplash...

If I had just reached as far as I could I could've touched Hetfields foot thats how fucking close I was to him.

At that point I couldnt even explain song by song how amazing it was, I was just rocking out and I couldnt stop, it was so fucking cool and amazing and I couldnt stop jumping again and throwing up the devil horns it was great.

End of the show they were doing theyre out to and throwing everything out and my bf got one of their picks and I started having that verge of tears again because I still couldnt believe what I just witnessed.

Not only did I get rare collectables from 5FDP, but Metallicas crew gave us pit tickets to make everything possible and that proves how fucking amazing they are.

Best weekend of my life, I couldnt be anymore grateful.

[here2bbtstrash]

hi, eonni! i dont know if you still would keep me in your thoughts. better if you do, or even if you don't, i’d be glad both the ways. maybe if i’m being so dumb and vague, im yun.. hello :')

i disappeared suddenly, because life has never been good on me. i miss you dearly, and i don't have the guts to come infront as a non anon, aka someone with a true blog. of the many people i met in my previous blog, you're the one with whom i felt the most safe with, so i just wanted to drop in..

is it too awkward or sudden to drop in?

i read ldomlt chap 10, and it absolutely broke me. of all the things ive learnt so far, i know it's okay to mess up, because we're all humans. but the avalanche of everything which went on..im alright, because it's just common and we're all humans. but one thing for sure is, yoongi and oc are both idiots, complete idiots, lacking proper communication. with jk, he's an amazing guy, is he single? askin for a friend, obv, ty ty

i do so realised that maybe they won't ever share that golden bond they did, but maybe they can improve and develop with time (: (:

and one thing for sure is, that yoongi totally is gaslighting.

i do know that one shouldn't presume anything, and me myself am, because i do know that yoongi is scared. yoongi is scared that he loves her, and she deserves someone who's better than him, and even some stances of past relationships which is making him gaslight everything, even his own emotions. i do get it, it's the human nature afterall. he's scared, but i hope he understands that life is all about feeling it..

don't know, if im logical for it, but it's, i suppose, oc is in the stage of grief and denial, as well as anger. it's okay, the storyline was great, and i absolutely appreciate you for keeping it so clean and natural, because (having faced some so similar situation myself,) some novel shit absolutely doesn't occur in real life, like they appear when you want them to. life makes you lick your shoelaces and taste the bitterness, and sometimes it burns you out...she has gone through a lot..

but however, i truly hope that the story has a good ending: i know some things can't be mend even after years of exile, but they can be better. i know that yoongi loves her, cares about her, which is why he even came to the party.. and the part when he said

“ i just want you to be happy ”

my heart broke too.

but i hope these idiots take upon and talk, and things get better.

and i hope everything is smoother on your side too, eonni (:

YUN BABY MY DONGSAENG OMG 🥺 it's so good to hear from you!!!!

of course you have been in my thoughts!! i have missed talking to you but i know life is hard and i don't take it personally when people take breaks/walk away from tumblr or i just don't hear from them for a bit!

i do hope things are looking up for you or will soon, if not now then definitely in the new year, bc you deserve good things!! 💜 and you are always welcome to say hi to me no matter how long it's been 🥺

oh god 😭 chapter 10 was so so much i know.... all the emotions and flaws and failures to communicate. so much humanity and MESS between these two. at least we have jk 🫠 who is single but i think you have an entire army of baby star candy stans to fight for his love 🤣

you are so so correct about both yoongi and reader. she absolutely called him tf out when she said he was scared. and i love that you pointed out he isn't just gaslighting her but also himself - that's soooo real. he thinks if he can just shove it down, push her away, and get back to work, the way he's feeling will dissipate.... 👀 guess we'll have to see how that plan goes lmao

i'm so glad you're enjoying the story and that you feel it's natural!! i loved putting in that little end moment even though it's obviously VERY sad... as a lover of tv shows/books and the many tropes that come with them, i have sadly had that moment far too many times myself. it can be so crushing when the imagined scenarios in your head don't come true 🥺 but she's off to start a new life.... and we have to see how it all wraps up!! 💜

ugh it makes me so so happy that you reached out, and that you're still enjoying this series!! i really wanna hear more about your life and how things are going - i'm pretty sure you have me on discord so pls don't hesitate to message anytime!!!

wishing nothing but the best for you in 2023 and beyond, and i'm manifesting that shit, so you know it'll come true 😉✨💜

[tytangfei]

This is not love yet I am haunted by you.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn���t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

[burnedbyshoto]

a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 

“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

[wizkiddx]

join my taglist 🤍

master list

TOM

~ just for the record - tom gets caught preparing for a very big moment

~ slow burn - early morning workouts are your way of befriending your costar, even if it’s more like torture

~ you're still creepy bro - Tom turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

~ 3 hearts broken [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] - an argument between you and tom, except it takes him hurting someone else for you to loose it

~ ‘it’ couple - fluffy blurb- Tom’s not-so-subtle physical affection doesnt go unnoticed by the media

~ hanging high - fluff, actress!reader and tom hungover and on a flight, that's abt it

~ just letting you know - Tom’s terrified to ask your dad a very particular question question

~ reasons why I hate the spiderboy - the father of the brides wedding speech

~ work with me - when tom doesn’t take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there’s one person whose stuck dealing with it

~ your voice - tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

~ supercluster - its toms birthday but he has a few things to get off his chest and into the night sky, y/n joins in with a bit of a revelation too

~ stay stay stay - sometimes tom can be the one in need too

~ sleepy sunsets - picking up tom from the airport blurb

~ living and reviving - when toms caught out all hope looks lost

~ baby bump chats - the story of your pregnancy through toms eyes

~ brotherly advice - tom wants to ask harry if he’s taking things to quick with y/n , which harry takes pure glee in

~ pretty boy face - what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

~ zooming - online uni is hard when your boyfriend is intent in being a little shit

~ neutralise the escapee. - little bit of fluff while in quarantine cos you know ... the worlds gone mad

~ honeymoon morning. the morning after the night before, full of fluff and surprise and Tom being a lil jealous of Haz

~nothing’s changed at all - 2 years later and Paddy being a bit of a matchmaker

~ admit you miss me - FaceTime, pining and a pandemic- but still cute and lovey

~ moving on - change is scary and it makes you question the realistic future you and tom have

~ a father and daughter - me trying to write dad!tom and resulting in this

~ stop caring - angst reader has a panic attack and the only person to help isssss

~ a job offer - kinda a part two to stop caring, trying to patch up your relationship a small step at a time

~ or him - soon to be dad!tom predicts your babies gender

~ ...surprise part 1 part 2 part 3 this is angsty too, Tom comes home to found out you’ve been through hell and back while he was away, and he didn’t even know

~ a friendly face - bit if angst but mainly just fluff, read pays Tom a surprise visit when she finds out he’s struggling with the emotional stress cherry brings, while the Russo’ make Tom think long and hard... not just about stage direction

~ ruining the plan isn’t always so bad. Fluff!! completely based off the podcast Dom did after him and Sam surprised Tom filming years ago, but with the added component of y/n

~ two beautiful girls - just tom coming home to you and his 18 month daughter and to cuteness that would ensue

~ unusable faces - famous!reader and tom are worked to complete exhaustion so they sneak off together to find some rest bite

~ in your own way - people are just talented at different things and sometime y/n has to remind Tom that

~ the worst case scenario [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] - very very angsty , bcos childbirth isn’t always perfect in the slightest COMPLETED

~ birth photographer 2 - harry gets terrified by toms request about the birth of his child, but the reader smoothes it over

~ too early - fluffy blurb!!!! based off Tom’s early morning insta stories that had me melting ahah

~ wasn't expecting that - you run into possibly the most infuriating family members the one time u and ur boy are showing PDA

~ you cant hide - fluff, reader tries to hide being ill from Tom and it doesnt work

~ homework hell - tom struggles to help his daughter with maths homework and chaos descends

~ anti valentine - its hard for Tom to be romantic, when your the most cynical person going 

~ don't make it weird - life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

~ how he loves - the little things he does in boring day to day life

~ perfect no matter what - tom helps you to see your worth

~ bad advice - fluffy blurb, tom seeking Harry's advice on his relationship

HARRY

~ what do I do - first time the reader falls asleep on harry and he’s all scared and nervous and tom is like ugh

~ your song - harry never sings in front of you, until you need it

~ need your person part 1. part 2 - this is very angsty! but Harry really gets the wrong end of the stick of a situation and blows up much to the detriment of the person he loves

~ this bloody door - bad days and bad doors , but something does make it better

~ in the middle - oops only one bed left i wonder if the mutual pining gets outed?

[plush-rabbit]

A Protective Partner - Tomura Shigaraki Headcanons

Request: hi- im really sorry to bother you but ive been going through a tough time lately, stuff with my past and all but your writing has really been helping me through it. ive kind of been ghost binging your work and its one of the few things that calms me down as of late. i was wondering if maybe you could do a fic, a drabble, or even just some hcs about shigaraki who loves his s/o with everything he has, is just protective and won't let anything bad happen to her? just vows to protect her and let's her know that. i know its pretty soft and vague, but id just really like to read some whole-hearted love stuff right now, even if its blown completely out of proportion. dunno if you'll see this, but if you do, please don't feel obligated to answer or anything! i mostly just wanted to thank you for creating content that genuinely makes me feel better. i hope you have an awesome day/night! <3

A/N: I hope that you like it!! Feel better spoon!! Im always happy to talk to yall if youre going through stuff!! I hope that you enjoyed this. I always try to keep things realistic in a way when i write so i really hope that this was cute!!

-

Tomura isn’t quite the best with words. Living a sheltered life altered him, deprived him of the basic social skills and made a man who has set beliefs and morals. No matter the part of the relationship- the beginning stages of friendship, the trust gained and lost, the soft touches that burn against his skin, and the relationship part- it still remains forgin to him. It’s still something that he works on, that he grows and mimics. The parts that should be easy don’t read that way to him. He wants to prove to you and to himself that he isn’t just another chess piece but that he is his own person.

Though with stunted social skills, he still tries his best. He may not be the best at figuring out which emotion you are growing through nor can he properly read them, but he tries. Every touch is tentative until you reciprocate back towards him, your own hand twisting against his, your warmth pressed against his side, and your lips ghosting over his; every touch is something that he reaches with such carefulness as if he were to be pricked by a thorn. A simple touch makes his breath hitch and his heart skip a beat, a tender kiss against the scar near his eye makes him let out a shaky breath- he is so starved for affection that he is unable to word what he wants properly. He can try to act aloof but he knows when he’s been caught with a red face and a creeping smile that won’t falter so easily.

As the relationship develops, he’s able to tell when you’ve grown agitated or when you simply aren’t feeling your best. He understands that- he’s gone through huge shifts in his villainous career and while he may have been best when left alone and time to cool off, he knows that you are different from him. He doesn’t want to push so much, rather he’ll ask you if everything is okay, his hand reaching out to give yours a squeeze before releasing it and a pack of fruit snacks placed in your hands. Even then, he doesn’t relent, he may not push for an answer but he pushes for your time, wanting to be beside you even in silence to simply just sit and be in each other’s company.

More than likely, he’ll let you be in your thoughts for a day or two before confronting you- actually confronting you and asking you to tell him what’s wrong. He knows you’ve been acting differently- he can see the forced smiles, the way your eyes droop and how you distance yourself from the others in subtle ways from making yourself smaller to engaging with simple answers. His weight shifts in each foot, his hands clenched and a beginning redness starts to creep from his neck up towards his face. He doesn’t wait for an answer, rather letting out a sigh and sitting beside you as close as he can.

You can only suffer in silence for so long before he holds out his hand to you. An artist's glove covers his ring and pinky finger, his palm facing towards the cracked ceiling with the dim lighting making his features seem sharp, the shadow it casts grazing his profile and hiding the red that tints his face. He doesn’t verbally ask for your hand, rather letting it stay there as an offering for you to hold it or not. He wants for you to make that decision rather than him making it for you.

After several minutes of silence with his hand extended out towards you, your hand fits into his. Your fingers interlace with one another, the fabric soft against your bare skin. He takes this as his chance to talk, to let you slowly become comfortable in his presence, letting you know that you don’t have to talk, you can simply be there and he’ll be right beside you.

While he may not express it verbally, physical contact is something that he has grown to love. He believed that he could have lived without it, lived with the fact knowing that his hands could cause decay, but he wonders if that was something that he made up to ease the pain. He relishes in your touch, leans towards your warmth and loves to know that he can hold you with fear that you’ll leave him.

Your words come out slowly, a brief whisper that’s pained about how everything has suddenly gotten a bit too much. Your laugh is bitter, your eyes downcast and he can see a faint reddening of your cheeks, the brief color of red that settles against your skin and the way that you start to shift, looking at everything but at nothing, your eyes flickering around the room but never meeting his own eyes. Your voice tightens, your words tense and cracked between and he can see your facade slip for a moment, the eyes your eyes shine and how you suck in a deep breath of air through your teeth and the painful hold you have of his hand. You turn to him with a trembling bottom lip and a reddened nose, your eyes shining with tears. You slowly let go of his hand and call his name, your knee bumping against his as you turn to him.

His arms are solid against you, his hands pressed flat against your back as he pushes you close to him. You let out a short whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your nose pressed against a pulsing point where he softly knocks his head against yours. Once he’s deemed that enough time has passed, he’ll pull away from you, cupping your face in his hands as he tells you that he would protect you against anything and everything. No matter what it is or who it is, he will always be on your side, he’ll protect you until his dying breath.

Slowly his hands fall from cupping your face to curving to your neck and towards the back of your head, tapping lightly to have you lean towards him. His lips press against the tip of your nose and he can hear your airy scoof, your lips tilting upwards as you wipe at your eyes. If there’s anything to describe Tomura, it’s passionate. He’s passionate about his goals, aiming to do whatever he can to make sure his version of the future comes into fruition, passionate about those close to him, becoming distraught at their absence and wanting to make sure that when he succeeds, whatever they want, they’ll receive. You’re one of the few people that he cares for, the lucky few that he would take with him to the ends of the world, to give you all that you ask for as long as you let him rest beside you.

[morganaspendragonss]

quédate un segundo más (1/8)

@911lonestarangstweek day 8 - t is for...tumour, terminal, treatment

title from voy a quedarme by blas cantó, translates roughly to 'stay a second more'

thanks to @halsteadmarchs and @tarlos-spain for the beta!

as shown above, this will be eight chapters if all goes to plan, and i hope to finish it before season 3 begins. much of what is written both in this chapter and in future ones is ripped directly from life and i am only writing from my own perspective and experiences of losing a loved one to cancer.

ao3 | 1.6k | angst, hurt tk, cancer, terminal illness, more warnings to come in future chapters

A rare genetic mutation.

That’s what the doctors tell him when the results come back.

A rare genetic mutation that has rendered his cancer practically undetectable until its latest stages, until all that’s left to do is wait to die.

TK’s hands shake as various leaflets on Managing Your Diagnosis and What To Expect and Looking After Someone With Cancer are placed in them. He feels two steps to the side of himself, his entire world halting in its tracks the moment those words had left the doctor’s lips.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” he’d said, eyes wide and empathetic. “Your scans and blood results have come back showing evidence of a tumour on your pancreas. There are treatment options which we can and will—with your consent—pursue, however I have to inform you that your cancer is entering stage IV. It has begun to spread to your bladder and liver. I’m sorry to say that, at this point, treatment is more focused on managing your pain and making you as comfortable as possible; we do not anticipate recovery.”

It’s just… TK’s fine. He feels fine. Like, sure, he’s been a little more tired recently and he’s been getting these weird pains, but they always fade after a while, and he’s fine.

But he couldn’t deny the blood spotting his pee, the last straw which had finally sent him to the doctor’s office.

Too late, apparently.

A touch on his knee brings him back to reality with a start. TK looks up to meet the doctor’s kind gaze, and he wants to cry.

“I understand this is a lot to take in,” he’s saying. “If you have any questions, please ask.”

“I…” TK shakes his head, swallowing a couple of times before dropping his eyes to his knees, the words on the pamphlets blurred through his tears. “How long?”

The doctor hesitates a moment, then sighs regretfully. “I can’t say for certain. People frequently outlive their projected timeframes; equally, it could be less. However, given the way your tumour looks and the rate it appears to be spreading at, I would estimate around six months.”

Six months.

Six—six months.

“Oh,” TK says, and it feels wildly insufficient but it’s all he has. What even is there to say? He’s dying, and that’s...that’s that.

“Do you have a support system in place?” the doctor asks. “This is going to be a difficult process, and you are going to need other people to help you through it.”

TK nods slowly, not looking up. “M-My husband. Carlos. He was supposed to come with me today but he was called into work last minute. He’s a detective, so he couldn’t exactly refuse—not that that stopped him from trying.” He laughs wetly, remembering how he’d insisted that everything would be fine when Carlos had stalled leaving this morning. “And there’s my dad, and my team—my family. I’m a paramedic and I work in a fire station, so we’re all pretty close. I… Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t need to know all this.”

“It’s okay.” The doctor is still smiling, still so understanding, and TK wonders—just how many times has he had to do this? “I’m glad to hear you have solid support behind you; that’s going to be incredibly important for the coming months. I’ve also given you a few leaflets about support groups you can access, that your family can access, and, of course, your treatment team will be there every step of the way.

“Now,” he continues, returning to a semi-professional aspect, “I want to see you later this week to iron out how we’re going to proceed. For now, why don’t you go home and rest, allow yourself to process this? Does Friday at 10.30 work for your next appointment?”

TK nods absently, clutching the pamphlets tight enough to crease them. “That’s fine,” he whispers.

“Okay,” the doctor says, just as quiet. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“Yeah.”

But he doesn’t move. He can’t. In this room, he’s separated from the rest of the world—TK doesn’t want to go back into it, where he’ll have to tell everyone he loves that he’s… That he…

“TK.”

TK’s head snaps up at the doctor’s voice and he flushes a little at seeing his pointed look. “Sorry,” he mutters, scrambling to stand up.

The doctor stands too, much more gracefully than TK, and gets the door for him. “It’s okay. I’ll see you on Friday, TK, alright?”

He mumbles an affirmative then steps out of the office, taken aback for a moment by the bustle and noise in the corridor. It’s strange to witness it now, to see all these people who don’t know him from Adam going about their lives, while his has, in the span of thirty minutes, completely crumbled.

TK takes a deep breath (and how many of those does he have left?) and joins the flow.

*

He’s home.

That’s… He doesn’t remember it. He must have unlocked the front door because the keys are in his hand and he’s standing in the entryway, but TK has no idea how he managed to get from the doctor’s office to here.

He made good time though, judging by the clock on the wall.

Small victories.

With heavy steps, TK walks to the sofa, easing himself down and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. It still doesn’t feel real that there's this—this thing inside him, growing and mutating and killing him. He’s not sure when it finally will.

Maybe in a few months, when his skin is sagging off his bones and his hair is gone and even the very act of breathing is a challenge.

Or maybe in a few hours, when Carlos comes home and TK has to break the news. TK can picture his face now, the way his ever-present smile will crack and break, the shock and hurt and grief that will take its place.

He thinks he understands his dad now.

TK closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, just for a moment, of everything that’s happened today.

Which, as it turns out, is a mistake, because that’s when he remembers the letter that came for them yesterday and the phone call they’re going to make after dinner.

The phone call they were going to make after dinner.

TK wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. They’ve been waiting for that moment for so long, the moment in which they found out they were finally cleared to adopt a kid. And now…

Gone.

Carlos is going to be crushed.

As if the universe is reacting to that last thought, the door suddenly swings open, marking Carlos’s return from his impromptu shift. For a moment, TK panics. He’s not ready, dammit, he needs more time to plan and to figure it all out, how he feels and what he’s going to say, but—

But, in the end, it doesn’t matter. He could have had the most detailed and well-thought out plan in the world and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because all it takes is one look at Carlos’s smile for TK to fall apart.

Carlos is by his side in an instant, gathering him in his arms and sliding to the floor with him when TK can no longer support himself on the couch. TK fists his hands in his husband’s shirt and cries into his neck, all the emotion that’s been slowly building all day exploding from him all at once.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carlos shushes, which only makes TK cry harder, because how is he supposed to tell him that it’s not?

He shakes his head and clings onto him tighter, feeling Carlos do the same to him in return. TK’s always felt safe in his arms and it’s no different now; he thinks that, if he can just stay here forever, maybe things will turn out okay after all.

But the moment ends, as they tend to do. When TK’s sobs have run dry, Carlos carefully pulls back from him, his hands rising to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, so much worry in those damn eyes that it hurts. “Is it… Did the doctor say something? Are you okay?”

TK opens his mouth, but the words refuse to come out. All he manages is a wordless shake of the head, and even that turns Carlos’s expression into the picture of devastation. He can’t bear to look at it, so he wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist and leans into him again, resting his head on his chest.

Carlos holds him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll get through it,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

And it turns out that he does have a few more tears left in him; TK squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out shakily as a couple of lone drops fall down his cheeks. “We can’t,” he whispers hoarsely. Carlos stiffens and shifts as if to look TK in the eyes, but TK doesn’t let him. If he has to look at Carlos, he doesn’t think he’ll have the courage to say it. He hesitates a moment longer, a huge lump forming in his throat, but eventually he manages it.

“It’s cancer,” he chokes out. “Stage IV. Incurable. They think… I’ve got six months.”

It’s like time stops.

They’re both motionless on the floor of their front room, neither saying anything, barely breathing as the weight of it settles between them.

TK doesn’t know how long it lasts for, but suddenly Carlos sobs and grips onto him with a bruising strength. Carlos’s body heaves and shakes with the force of his cries, and it’s TK’s turn to hold him as tears drip down Carlos’s cheeks into his hair.

And, in that moment, it becomes real.

[random-imagines-blog]

Sideways {Andrew Garfield x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 1811 Summary: Andrew gets a call that no one wants to get. Especially from their own child. Warning: Contains hospital, miscarriage and talk of pregnancy.

The best part about your job was that you could do a lot of it online, and could travel with Andrew when he went abroad for his different acting gigs. This was one of the last times that you would be able to go, since it was the Summer and your daughter was going into first grade, and you wanted to keep her in one place to keep her adjusted. Still, he was going to appreciate all that he could get. And every minute that he wasn’t needed on set, he was going to take you and your child together to go and explore. He’d been here in Vancouver before, but you hadn’t, and he was eager to show you what he had learned about on his last trip here. But for now, he was stuck in the studio, getting fitted for one of the ‘special’ outfits that he was going to be wearing for this film.

He was laughing with the wardrobe stylist, joking about something that happened with the director on the first day here. They had pranked him by bringing in a bunch of extras and announcing them as the main cast. The director had sputtered, and not wanting to be rude, had to excuse himself to make ‘script adjustments’. Once he had realized that it was all a prank, he saw the funny side, and all tension and nerves around the team had dissipated. Andrew had been in on it and thought that it was hilarious, especially since he had been dressed as one of the camera-crew. Best acting he had ever done, the director had said to him.

“There’s a call for you, Mr Garfield,” His assistant said, popping up beside him. She was a small, older woman with a very no-nonsense air about her. She hadn’t appreciated the prank, because it meant that she missed out on a few hours of work. “It’s urgent.”

“It is?” Andrew asked, wondering who it could be. You only texted him during work hours, and he’d give you a call at lunch once in a while, otherwise he would wait to tell you about his day once he got home. That way his little girl could listen in and chime in whenever she wanted as well. “Excuse me,” He told the woman who was measuring his shoulders to make an adjustment to the suit. She nodded, and helped him to remove what he had on of the costume, then he changed quickly then finally accepted the phone from his assistant.

“This is Andrew,” He said, just in case it was an urgent professional call. He could hear a commotion coming from the other end of the line. There were men talking, and then a loud siren. Ambulance, not fire truck or police. He knew the difference, having always stayed in hotels in busy cities.

“Daddy?” The six-year-olds voice came through, and Andrew felt his heart sink from his chest down to his knees. He looked at his assistant who looked more solemn than usual. And maybe even a little bit concerned. “Daddy - it’s Mommy.”

“What’s wrong with mommy? Tell me everything - and where are you going?” He took his wallet and keys from his assistant, who had been holding onto them during the fittings.

“Where are we going?” Andrew heard her ask someone, and a man said something in response. “Vancouver General,” The little girl repeated.

“I’ll meet you there, okay? Stay with one of the paramedics until Daddy gets there. I won’t be long.”

-

It took him half an hour to get to the hospital, and that was with light traffic. He cursed the studio for being so far away, but he knew it was just the stress. His daughter wasn’t able to give him much information, just that you had been in the bathroom, crying in pain, and then told the little girl to call 911. They had taught her the emergency number for every country that they stayed in, just in case. It was good that she knew, but he hated that she had to use it.

You had been feeling fine that morning, he recalled. You went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, had a simple meal of oatmeal and fruits. He was thinking that perhaps you had food poisoning of some sort? He hoped it was something as simple as that, though you wouldn’t have called 911 over something so trivial.

He parked, then ran into the first entrance that he could find. It was emergency, and they gave him directions to the fourth floor. He noticed from the signs around the elevator that it was to ... to a pregnancy floor?

He saw his daughter first, sitting on a bench, reading a book, swinging her legs back and forth since they weren’t reaching the ground. There was a paramedic sitting with her, but not saying anything. Just keeping an eye on her, which Andrew was thankful for. His footsteps brought their attention, and the little girl jumped to her feet. She had been crying, Andrew could tell from the puffiness of her cheeks. She ran towards him, and he leaned down to catch her in a hug. “Daddy! I called just like you taught me to!” She pulled your phone out of her pocket, it looked so massive in her little hands, and she held it up to show you.

He knew the password, there were no secrets between you two. You knew his as well, but neither of you ever went snooping. In fact, this was the first time that he had used it. He saw indeed that your first call of the day was to work, and then 911, and then to him. He turned the phone dark and put it into his own pocket. He scooped up the girl and held her in his arms in a giant bear hug. He looked at the paramedic over her shoulder, took a step towards him and held his hand out. “Thank you so much for staying with her-”

“It’s no problem,” He said, getting to his own feet. “We had to resupply the ambo anyway. And - the doctor said that your wife was stable. I’m sure she’ll be out soon.” He shook Andrew’s hand then excused himself to go back to work, and Andrew sunk down on the recently vacated spot on the bench, still holding his daughter on his lap. There wasn’t much that he could do except for wait for the Doctor, which didn’t take long. The commotion that your daughter made had gotten their attention.

“Hello, Mr. Garfield?” The Doctor said, coming out of the room. She reminded Andrew a lot of his assistant. Same motherly face, same solemn features. Andrew nodded to the affirmative. “Your wife is going to be just fine, though her body had gone through some trauma. She’s going to need to rest, take it easy for a couple of weeks at least.”

“What happened?” He asked, his voice shaky with relief that you were going to be fine. Still, this had seemed to come out of nowhere. And the fact that you were in the pregnancy wing made him nervous.

“Your wife had a miscarriage, Mr. Garfield. She was three months along,” The Doctor’s voice was straight to the point, no emotions at all. She must have to deliver news like this all of the time. “She claims that she didn’t know that she was pregnant, so she is feeling rather fragile. I’d like to keep her for overnight observation, just to be careful.”

Andrew swallowed, but nodded. There wasn’t any other reaction that he felt like he could have. He could only hug his daughter close, thankful that at the very least, he had her. “Can I see her?” He asked the Doctor, who nodded, and motioned towards the open door that she had just come out of. Andrew got back up to his feet, and walked in, still holding his daughter, who was being unusually quiet. He realized as he walked into the room that she had fallen asleep.

You hadn’t, however. You were laying in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, getting fluids, staring straight ahead of you blankly. Andrew hummed to announce that he was there, and you snapped out of it, your eyes meeting his. They were still filled with tears on your end, while he was still comprehending the news.

“Hey baby,” You said, weakly smiling. Andrew smiled back, and set the little girl down on a chair, where she curled up immediately and continued to sleep away. All that worry and excitement must have exhausted her. He then went to your side, taking hold of both your hands, being careful of the IVs.

“How -” He said, shaking his head. “How did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” You said, blinking away tears. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I swear, I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I had my period and no other symptoms. I mean, I thought I gained a little bit of weight but I thought that was just all of the cake,” You somehow managed to laugh though it didn’t sound sincere. “The Doctor says that happens sometimes.”

Andrew would never dream of accusing you of cheating. The two of you stayed in the newlywed stage of your marriage, remaining sexually active. The math added up enough, three months, you two were definitely intimate three months ago.

“How do you feel?” Andrew asked, caressing the top of your hands with his thumbs. “And not just physically.”

You took a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. “I’m devastated,” You admitted, finally admitting your own truth. Tears were fighting to come out and you had stopped the battle, letting them descend freely. “When I heard that I miscarried - I realized... I want that baby. I want to have another one with you and we just lost our chance.”

Andrew felt the same wave of depression overcome him. In an alternate universe, he could just be finding out that he was going to be a father again. He had to be strong for you though. He could let out his emotions when you got home. You were too vulnerable right now.

“We’ll have more chances,” Andrew said, leaning forward and kissed a tear off of your cheek. It tasted salty, it lasting on his lips for a long while. “I’ll gladly give you another baby.”

You chuckled at that, though you were still crying. “You just like the act of making one, mister,” You squeezed his hands. Andrew laughed as well, and nodded.

“Can you blame me?”

[camslightstories]

Tolerate it - Part 8

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers.

Notes: Well I hope you like it, part 9 is going to be up on Saturday, i know it may not be the best one but I think is actually better than part 7. I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you so much for your support, it feels unreal. 

I loved reading about your theories and opinions. I will gladly received any feedback, comment, opinion or request. I hope you guys a have day! Thank you for reading! I hope you guys like it!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett

Russian Translations:

А Вы, Олли? - Do you, ollie?

Ты не сказал им, не так ли? - You didn't tell them, did you?

The darkness of the night made the hideouts easier. The persistent sound of the music coming through different places made it harder to focus. The cold and loneliness of the night made the two superheroes teams stand secretly behind the warehouse. 

Standing ready for the signal to invade the place, Oliver Queen and Kara Danvers, best known as the Green Arrow and Supergirl. With comms on their ears as Lena and Felicity gave information about the event. Alex arriving with Jonn, Diggle, Nia, and Brainly ready to enter the place. 

The Danvers sister shared a look of protectiveness and caring, as Felicity gave the signal to enter. The archer looked back at his friends before entering first, with the Kryptonian no long behind. 

With the lights off, they both spoke up. Oliver throws a bomb arrow to the middle of the warehouse. “You have failed this city!”

“Why do you guys do this, knowing we are going to stop you?”And your sister getting a look from your best friend for creating a pun. 

As both of the teams caught the majority of the people in question for minutes, the criminal that had been terrorizing National City and Star city was still on the loose. As both of your sisters ran where Sinclair’s bodyguards were being put down by a blonde. Oliver stood on the top of the stage watching the whole interaction with Anatoly by his side. 

Kara felt her world stop as she heard it again. The blood pumping sound coming from your familiar chest. Alex stopping looking back at her, as the blonde stumbled with her feet, slowly falling into the floor as tears started to come out. Desperately looking around the place with a foggy mind trying to find you. Alex tried to ground her pulling her into her, whispering calming words to your sisters. 

Your best friend had already recognized you, as you flipped the table and tried to cover, throwing a tranquilizer arrow immediately, hoping to make it before Roulette could shoot you. As Kara looked up where her friend stood throwing the arrow in direction of the tattooed woman, where you stood.

Shaking Alex as she got up. She watched Roulette firing at you and hitting you, making you fall to the floor. Your redhead sister looking at her confused before your name fell out of her lips as a whisper “Y/N”

All of the comms became quiet, for a second as all of them shared a look. Your archer best friend, already with you in his arms taking your pulse. As he put pressure into the wound, looking for a pulse, finding a faint one. He screamed, “We need to get her to our place now!”

You on the arms of your sister, with the rest of the teams not long behind. Some of them are still in shock. Alex and Oliver running into the medical bed where your ex-girlfriend and Felicity stood connecting you to the machines. 

Oliver rips your dress where the wound was located, only to find an open scar and various scars in the rest of your chest. Looking over to where Felicity stood checking your vitals, recognizing the tattoo that stood on the top right of your chest. He sighed, before grabbing Alex from her shoulders getting her out of the space where you were laying. “Alex! I need you to trust me okay!?”

“I'm a doctor and she is my sister, Oliver let me pass!” Alex yelled angrily, trying to push past the archer. 

Oliver looked at her before responding as he jogged to the med space again “I can't! You are not stable and we can help her, like this you can't”

Your oldest sister stood angrily and went to enter again only to be stopped by Kara evolving her in a hug. Both of them sat on the floor as the angry tears left their eyes, blaming themselves for the situation. 

-----

The pain was the only thing that you could feel as you started to gain consciousness. The brightness hitting your eyes the moment you blinked. With a clouded mind, you slowly began to look at your surroundings, when you felt various things attached to your body. 

Slowly closing and opening your eyes, as they adjusted to the white light that illuminated the room. You went to move, only to feel the IV in your arm and the tight bandage in your abdomen.

Groaning internally as the pain increased. You heard faintly familiar voices that you couldn't make of. The cold of the place made you curse internally as it felt that it was increasing the headache. Trying to clench your fits but failing when you felt all of your strength leave your body. 

Tossing around the bed, you noticed your cuffed hand into the bed. Furrowing your eyes as you look back now, in more pain and consciousness at your surroundings. Closed walls, small medical instruments, bright surroundings. Noticing your dress on the couch you looked down to see a familiar sweatshirt and shorts only to make you sigh in annoyance, putting the dots together. 

Moving around the bed, you grabbed the V1 and took it out slowly, putting it on the table beside you. Breathing multiple times, gaining all of the strength you could have the moment, you dislocated your thumb crying in silence as you did before getting your hand out of the cuffs.

Getting up slowly, you tried to look for your gun or anything in the space, only to find none. Breathing heavily the moment you tried to walk as the pain in your abdomen overwhelmed you and made you get support on the wall. Trying to conceal now your emotional and physical feelings you clenched your fits only to bandage around them. 

Nodding after gaining a part of your self-control you started to walk out of the med bed just to see Oliver with his arms crossed over his chest, stopping you.“Y/N, can't let you do that”

“For a former assassin, you do not take the right precautions, Queen” You responded with venom in your voice, trying to walk past your best friend only to be stopped as he got in your way. Showing your free hands. 

“I got things to do, and places to be, so get out of my way Oliver” You hissed when the archer made no move, and only stepped closer to you. Oliver examined your face as he did.

Your eyes that once were full of light now filled with darkness and wall. Your face that was once filled with smiles, now it was filled with voidness. Your once warm and caring expressions were now blank. A small scar on your cheek, almost unnoticeable if you weren't in the light. Everything had changed, and for the first time in a while, Oliver felt like he was just back on the island without any hope to save you, you were long gone and he knew it. 

“Where do you think you are going to go like that?”He claimed as he grabbed your shoulder, walking in the direction of a separate room. 

You concluded the struggle against his hold, even though the pain increased as you sat abruptly on the couch. “To take the fucking smirk out of Roulettes face with satisfaction”

You murmured loud enough for him to hear, as you moved around trying to get comfortable so the pain running through your veins could go away “Don't touch me”

“What are you gonna do? Fight me?” He sarcastically said before leaning on the doorway, watching your every move. 

“I may be not scared of anything anymore, Oliver but I’m not stupid enough to fight you,” You said before moving to lay on the couch. Ignoring his every try to speak to you. 

The silence became part of you in the past years, it helped to control your emotions, your wounds, and yourself. It became your solution to your problems. Now with it by your side, it refugees you as time passes. 

Oliver stood there for two whole hours, trying to find solutions in his thoughts. Memories that were buried inside came to play as he tried to find anything to get you back. But he knew that if you got into the Bratva organization there wasn't a single thing you haven't been through, and your scars confirmed his theories. 

All of the peace and calm was broken when your redhead sister burst through the door. Infuriated, and with a resentful expression on her face. Her breath got in her throat as she clenched her fits when she saw you. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Your oldest sister said, trying to hide the broken tone coming from her voice. Standing in front of you with fear in her eyes as she did, the fear of losing you again, the fear you saw more than once in her’s and Kara's eyes in any type of crisis. 

Kara came through the door no long behind, calmer than Alex but still tense. Both of your sisters shared a look when your silence became your answer. Ignoring them you kept looking at the ceiling, with a blank emotion. 

Kara walked closer to you, putting a hand on Alex as the redhead started to yell at you for leaving, for getting shot, for killing someone, for everything. Trying to relive the madness she had for you since you left. Your blonde sister shut Alex up, as she sat on the floor facing you like you did when you were kids.

With legs crossed and hands on your laps in front of the couch, when your mom wasn't home. Your sisters and you talked about what was wrong when you were kids. There wasn't anything you would hide from each other even when you moved to National City for college after so much time of disconnection between you three, it became natural. 

But the two of them sat there for hours and you didn't even move as the time passed, the only thing you did was breathe and stare at the ceiling. It was like you were trained to be in silence, you were completely void and both of your older sisters noticed. 

Trying to defuse the tension every now and then, Kara or Alex would speak up to ask you a question, but you remained silent. The rest of the teams stood in the Arrow cave, some of them more worried and confused than the others. Felicity had already spoken to Oliver. She had noticed the tattoo on your arm which did not pass by her remembering the same tattoo her husband once had on his left shoulder. 

Lena buried herself in her hands, as she tried to make sense of the situation. Many things had happened in the last few years, and many mistakes she had made, now we're basically feeling impossible to recover. Her foggy mind and unbalanced feelings all over the place.

Pulling herself up, Alex walked out of the room after sharing a look with Kara, when you kept silent and motionless. Oliver, Felicity, and Lena walked up to her as soon as she got out, with tears in her eyes, the redhead went to speak but was beaten by the archer. “She is not talking, is she?”

Alex nodded slowly before getting out of the way so the four of them could walk into the room. 

Noticing the now five standing figures in front of you, you remained in silence. The pain somehow became bearable as time passed, and with the control of your physical and mental feelings. You were basically the same person, Oliver once was. 

You seated back and examined each one of them. Oliver remained with a simple expression of worries, with his arms crossed, trying to find the words to get you to talk. Felicity stood on the far right with the table in her hand, as she searched for any part of your old self. Alex stood with her arms crossed, tears threatening to come out but still a desperate expression on her face. Kara was closer than the rest, with hope in her eyes, but a flash of pain and resentment in them too. Opening and closing her mouth multiple times as she cleaned the angry tears coming from her eyes. Lena stood upright looking at you like a ghost. Gripping to the sleeves of her sweater as she stared, biting her lip while trying to make the tears not come out.

“What do you want?” You claimed as you played with your hands, glancing at each one of them. Oliver remained calm, and not surprised when your cold and indifferent tone of voice hit them. While the three women felt their breathing get caught in their throats. 

Your best friend took a step closer to you, with a challenging look in his eyes as both of you connected glances. He was pushing your buttons so you would overwhelm yourself, but you knew better than that. You had seen him and your sisters do the same thing a lot of times, so you played along. “You know what we want”

“А Вы, Олли?” You said not looking anywhere else but his eyes. Your sisters and Felicity looked shocked, as you spoke while Lena understood you perfectly, furrowing her eyebrow in confusion. What were you hiding? 

When the archer didn't respond, you took your turn again, this time with a sarcastic chuckled as you did. “Ты не сказал им, не так ли?”

Oliver looked at you annoyed before rubbing his temples, Lena got closer only to be stopped when your oldest sister angrily yelled at you. “What the hell happen to you?”

If she would have done it three years ago, you would have flinched. Surprising your sisters and Lena when you didn't. Instead, you looked void, and with your eyes challenging Alex with determination and calmness with nothing to fear. No one had ever challenged your sister, everyone feared the redhead, except for you.

You had lost all of your fears in the past years. You weren't scared of death or anything else. You became blank, it didn't matter to you, if you died or if you were alive. You didn't have anything to live for, but you also didn't have anything to die for. So you survived. 

“Nothing of your damn business, Alexandra” You responded going back to laying on the couch. Your two sisters and ex-girlfriend exchanged looks, having a silent conversation. You had never called her that, it was always, Alex, Al, Allie, Bear Bear. That scared the hell out of both of them, tears coming out as they walked out of the room slamming the door as they did.

You weren't there, you weren't yourself, you weren't the person who had once loved them infinitely, you weren't the person they had once comforted after having a nightmare, you weren't the person who danced and sung around the kitchen as you cooked, you weren't the person who took their camera everywhere so you could captivate moments with them, you weren't the person who was an absolute child during each holiday, you weren't the person who would drop everything to make you sure they were okay, you weren't the person who cried themselves to sleep when you had disappointed them, you weren't the person who tried to be funny, you weren't the person who was distinguished for being clumsy.

You weren't the person they once knew, you were gone and deep down they all knew it.

[chocoholicannanymous]

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Pt XVIII

This is the last part of this. Of a story that I was pretty certain I wouldn’t finish and just posted the bit I had in my scraps and snippets tag for a lark. You read that, and you liked it, and your response made me want to try and finish it. And so here we are, ~29k finished fic. 

Thank you for the support.

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, pt VI, pt VII, pt VIII, pt IX, pt X, pt XI, pt XII, pt XIII, pt XIV, pt XV, pt XVI and pt XVII.

New York is big and loud and filthy and expensive.

Kurt's first apartment had been an absolute rathole. He'd shared it with four others, and his “room” had been a repurposed coatroom. There had been just enough place for a bed and a tiny table instead of a desk. He'd only brought the most necessary in way of clothing, and with the exception of two shirts hanging from a nail in the wall he'd been forced to keep everything in a suitcase under the bed.

He'd moved out after a month, tired of never being able to keep food in the kitchen, weary of the nicks surrounding the lock on his door – he'd replaced the old one day 1, but even the best of locks only went so far – and fed up with having to carry all his valuables with him at all times.

Luckily the Warbler network had activated and Trent's older brother had offered up his guest room (and if that wasn't a sign of wealth, a student in New York with a guest room, then Kurt didn't know what was) for the rest of the year provided Kurt find someplace else to spend the night on those occasions it was needed. During the fall it'd mostly been solved by Sebastian coming to visit and the two sharing a cheap hotel room, and during the fall by Kurt spending the night at Sebastian's apartment. It had been tempting to move in with Sebastian then, but Kurt had resisted and they both agreed they'd become stronger for it.

Living together had been tough, especially since Sebastian had a lot more money available than Kurt. They'd managed to find a balance though and looking back Kurt feels proud of the work they'd put in to make it work. Three years (and counting) together and these days Kurt is willing to proclaim that Sebastian is as much of a perfect boyfriend as it's possible to be.

Yes, New York is still loud and filthy and big, but it's also full of light and laughter and love. Kurt's learned to find his way around both city and school, and he's on track for graduation with excellent prospects. Life is good.

Of course, that kind of means he's overdue for a cold shower and unfortunately it comes as cold and icy as is possible.

“Blaine. I guess I should have known you'd turn up.”

Like a bad penny, Kurt thinks. His ex-boyfriend just smiles wider at the words, clearly not picking up on the undertones.

“Yes! I'll always come back to you, Kurt. We're meant to be – you're my soulmate.”

Kurt shudders. All these years, and he still haven't gotten over his negative reaction to those words.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure you and I have different interpretations of what those things mean. Personally I can't see how someone who walked out of my life without a word years ago could be considered my 'soulmate', but that's me.”

“That's not fair! I never wanted to leave you, but my parents made me.”

Blaine does this thing with his face that resembles what Kurt remembers of Blaine's “I've apologized, sort of, and you should forgive me now” expression and Kurt thinks that if Blaine could see himself he'd never ever do it again. It's not pretty. It kind of looks like he's about to shit his pants, frankly.

“Right. Your parents. And why, exactly, were they so determined to get you out of Lima without saying goodbye?”

Blaine flinches, and Kurt can see the realization hit him. Strange. It's as if he never even thought about the possibility that Kurt would know about the lies Blaine had told. Emotions run across Blaine's eyes and face, one after the other, and Kurt just waits without even trying to figure out what's going through his ex's mind. He's beyond caring.

“Kurt, I... I, I have a confession to make. When I got home that last night, my parents, they were waiting up for me. They made assumptions, and I, I let them.”

Blaine's face twists, and a couple of tears start falling. Kurt would be touched, really he would, except he happens to know that Blaine can cry on command.

“I know I shouldn't have, I know it was wrong, I was just so afraid! I thought they'd throw me out, and so I kept quiet and did what they wanted. I'm so sorry I did that to you.

“I love you, Kurt!”

The thing is, he can remember when those words from Blaine's lips would make him melt. That's no longer true. Now he listens to them like he would a performance, and he finds them lacking. He should have gone for soft instead of intense, a hint of tears maybe, not volume and anger.

This isn't school though, even though it very much is a performance, nor is it worth critiquing. It's not worth anything, really. Kurt sighs a little, just wanting all of it to be over and Blaine to be gone.

“Here's the thing. I understand, I guess. In your shoes I would have been worried to tell my dad the truth too. I think just about every teenager out there would be at least a little afraid to tell their parents they got drunk and stupid.

“But I also think that just about every teenager out there knows that there's some kind of middle-ground between 'I got drunk and tried to rape my boyfriend' and 'my boyfriend drugged me and tried to rape me'. Except apparently you didn't. You just went with what would get you of the hook the fastest and easiest.”

“Hey! That's not fair!”

“Oh, it isn't? You doing what you did is okay, but me calling it what it was is unfair? Now, why am I not the least bit surprised that that's how you feel?

“You know, at first I didn't understand how you could do it. How you could say you loved me and then not just leave me, but let your parents believe that I would do something like that to you. Well, that you could let anyone think I'd do that to anyone.

“But as I said, I understand why you did it.”

A triumphant look flash up in Blaine's eyes. Oh, he's doing a pretty good job at hiding it – much better than he would have been able to as a teenager – but Kurt knows him, and he's looking for it.

“You threw me under the bus because you knew it'd be an easy out. You could have told your parents something else, anything else, but you chose the worst possible lie – one you had to have known would get me in trouble. You did it because it was easy, and it would get you of the hook – maybe even get you some sympathy instead of the punishment you deserved – and you did it because that was all you cared about. You.

“I always knew you were a bit self-involved, but I told myself it was just part of you being a performer. A healthy ego's pretty much a must, and I used to think that was it. Except it turned out you were so focused on you, and your needs and wants, that nothing else mattered. Certainly not me.

“It took me a while to accept, but I know now that regardless of what you said you didn't love me. Not really. You might have thought you did, but Blaine? Love means that the other person's just as important to you as you yourself are. And I never was that to you.”

He ignores Blaine's protests and just continues, projecting his voice to be heard over the barely restrained excuses and lies.

“The truth is that your lack of empathy and care for other people borders on Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and quite frankly I am better off for not having you remain in my life. Just don't expect me to thank you for it though.

“No one else will either. Do you realize how many people you worried with your little disappearing act? There was quite a few at Dalton who were convinced that your parents had shipped you off to conversion camp. They were counting down until your 18th birthday and from what I heard there was even the beginning of a fund to pay your way at Dalton if you escaped and were disowned.”

There's a triumphant gleam in Blaine's eyes. Clearly he's pleased about his friends being so worried about him and so ready to help him out. Kurt just wants to stomp that light out. Violently.

“Then when you didn't resurface after your birthday a few started worrying that your parents had you in a mental hospital, and there was talk of trying to stage some kind of rescue. That only lasted so long, of course.

“You see, somehow it's hard to convince anyone that their friend is practically jailed and in need of a rescue when they're seen out and about clubbing in L.A.. After all, these days everyone carries a phone, so the idea that you were unable to contact someone – anyone – and ask for help went up in flames pretty quick after that.”

Thad had been so angry that he'd made sure every single Dalton student that had ever know Blaine found out, and even the boy's most die-hard supporters had given up then and there.

They'd all understood not wanting to getting into a conflict with your family, especially when said family usually paid for college and any possible trust funds tended to be under the family's control for a while longer. What they hadn't understood was Blaine's total lack of communication. Email telling them that Blaine was okay but under orders not to contact anyone from Ohio would have gone a long way to ease worries, and was, they felt, the very least he owed them.

“Funny thing about you showing up here now? I can't help but remember that you turned 21 a couple of weeks ago. You didn't happen to get access to a trust fund then did you? Not that I actually care, but there are some old bets to settle.”

There wasn't, not really, but enough Warbler had warned Kurt about this very scenario with an added “I bet he shows up afterwards, thinking you'll take him back” for it to not quite be a lie.

Blaine splutters before launching into a long row of “explanations”, one more shitty than the other. It's obvious that he didn't expect Kurt to be angry with him, but instead to be welcomed with open arms. It's even sounding as if Blaine expected Kurt to take him back and just let him slide back into his life as if nothing had happened. Kurt isn't quite sure if Blaine intended for him to move in with Kurt and start a new life in New York, or if the idea was for Kurt to give up everything and follow Blaine back to L.A., but both options are equally ridiculous.

“Stop. Just, stop. I told you, I don't care. If you want to get in touch with any of your old friends from Dalton and McKinley and explain all of it to them, do so. But you don't need to explain anything to me. I don't want to hear it. Your window for explaining yourself to me closed years ago. It closed after you let your parents walk into a police station ready to have me charged with rape.

“Nothing you can say will ever make that okay. Nothing you say can make me forgive you.”

Kurt stops himself and takes a deep breath. There's so much he could say, so many accusations that could be made, so much hatred to be poured out.

Blaine's actions had gotten Kurt into trouble, and could have landed him in jails. They'd been what had stopped Burt Hummel from running from reelection after being asked – while nothing had come from the Andersons' accusations there had still been enough people who had known about it for it to leak and ruin a political career. After all, who cared if it was true when it made for a good weapon? And “local congressman buries son's rape charge” made for a great weapon.

Kurt had been willing to risk it, but his dad hadn't wanted to. Had it leaked the only way to prove Kurt's innocence would have been to make the video of Blaine trying to assault Kurt public. No good parent does that to their kid had been Burt's position, and Kurt had been grateful.

That didn't mean he wasn't aware of exactly how much that had cost not just his dad but the whole state. The man who'd replaced his dad had been the kind of bigot that wasn't good for anyone, not even his followers.

Kurt still blames Blaine for that, and even if he'd been insane enough to consider forgiving everything else he's never forgiving that. The chance of making Blaine understand any of that is minuscule though. The chance of him caring is even less.

There is, simply put, no point in spending even another second on trying to get through to him.

“You're not welcome here. Please leave. Goodbye Blaine.”

Once the door is closed and locked behind Blaine Kurt finally relaxes. He's closing the door on Blaine in more than one way, finally able to truly do that – because regardless of what he's hoped he's always known that one day his former boyfriend would pop up again.

“If he comes back you're filing for a restraining order.”

“He won't come back, Sebastian.”

“You don't know that. He did today, didn't he?”

It's obvious that Sebastian is coming from a place of care and worry, and Kurt feels himself soften. Blaine hasn't just been the monster under Kurt's bed during all of these years.

“Yes, he did, and no, I guess I can't really know. But honey, I really don't think he will. Blaine was reminded today that actions have consequences, and he found out I have the means to ensure said consequences. Coming after me and trying to change my mind is more work than he's ever shown himself willing to put in.

“After all, he's not the kind to stick around when the spit hits the fan.”

Luckily Sebastian is.

~ The end ~

[puppy-phum]

#10YearPromise - pingxie blabberings

bc i wasn’t able to answer these questions throughout the week (as i’ve been traveling around while being extremely busy), i decided to just collect all of my answers under one post! i never tire talking about pingxie so this was extremely enjoyable ♥ am also practicing some very shameless self promo in this so be prepared!

thank you for @laireshi​ for organizing this event (i take it’s you alone? am not sure, sorry for my laziness) and being amazing in general ^^ i won’t be able to join as i am still very busy and summer is always pure chaos for me, so i can only hope that other ppl have fun! if you are not aware of 10 Year Promise Pingxie Exchange, you can find the original announcement post here. join in if you have the time and inspiration ^^ 

and then to my answers which i will be placing under the cut bc i don’t want to flood anyone’s dash with me going bonkers over these two idiots. enjoy tho if you decide to read this :’D ♥

I. What made you ship pingxie?

Back when I got into Reboot bc of ZYL (as has happened to many ppl probably) and then saw stuff about pingxie once I started going through that drama’s tag on tumblr, my first thought about them was that they had to be a crack ship. The way Reboot portrays them as well as their actors and their huuuge age difference affected this a lot, and I was actually cackling at them bc all their moments in Reboot made me just go “oh, socialist brotherhood at its best” in my head. But then I finished watching Reboot’s 1st season (as the 2nd one wasn’t out yet) and started reading some fics. I learned more about them and the canon storyline. I learned how damn devoted they are to each other, and after that, many moments in Reboot gained new meaning in my eyes. So, I think what made me ship pingxie was a mix of Reboot (especially the hallucination moment where Xiaoge dies and Wu Xie loses it bc that’s my jam as I later on became to notice) and then the amazing fics I dug out during that time. After that the love grew stronger as I watched the other dramas, and these days I’m a lost cause. I feel like I spend most of my awake time thinking about these two and their love. They are amazing. I cry rivers for them.

II. Which pingxie version is your favorite?

After finding pingxie, I fell in love with them properly during TLT2. There is just something about that stage of their relationship for me, the stage where both of them are still very tentative about everything but they have deep down accepted that they’re tied now. Wu Xie is figuring out so many things, coming to terms with being betrayed by his uncle and slowly realizing that something bigger is going on behind the scenes. Meanwhile, Xiaoge is learning how to trust Wu Xie and how to accept that he cannot leave this naïve boy behind. It feels very fragile, and I have so many emotions about TLT2 bc of this. Xiaoge is so soft and feels very multilayered. Wu Xie is still his naïve self but is slowly gaining some sharper edges as he comes to face the cruel world. I like how Cheng Yi and Hou Minghao have portrayed this dynamic. Also, TLT2 is just very extra with all the pingxie scenes, who would be able to resist loving them? So, I have to admit that my favorite pingxie is these two, tho Ultimate Note comes very, very close.

III. What’s your favorite pingxie headcanon?

Headcanons are a bit hard for me as I don’t know enough of the canon. I have not read the novels so most of the story I’ve just patched together from all the bits I’ve read from somewhere (here, on twt, in fics) and through the scenes the dramas have shown me. I feel like the whole world is lowkey made of headcanons for me :’D But hmm, my favorite pingxie headcanon… I’d say there are two and then one bonus bc it’s more a Wu Xie related headcanon than just pingxie. The first one is that the pingxie confession happens after the Bronze Gate. It feels like the only moment when they’re both ready for such a thing. I’d say Xiaoge comes to realize his own feelings a lot earlier and he might tell something to unconscious Wu Xie before leaving for ten years, but he will not actually leave Wu Xie with such a burden. He doesn’t want to ask anything when it sounds like he doesn’t even believe that Wu Xie will be willing to wait for him, and I’d say that for him, his feelings are going to be fine even if Wu Xie never learns about them. He might even wish that Wu Xie never learns about them bc he’s not able to promise much as an immortal and amnesiac being (he outlives Wu Xie, most likely forgets him). For Wu Xie however, I’d say he needs time. He really is way too naïve and I’d say that he needs those ten years to realize that he’s in love with his best friend. I dunno who confesses first after Xiaoge returns but I think that only after that decade their relationship is “mature” enough to hold the weight of a confession (even if I also love to play around with the thought of them getting together during the events of Ultimate Note bc that drama offered many good chances for that). Another headcanon for me is that Xiaoge will find a way to die when Wu Xie does. After learning about them more, I feel like Reboot implies this too. Xiaoge is very accepting of Wu Xie’s death but in the last moments, when he really thinks that this is going to be it for Wu Xie, he hesitates. We see a spark of desperation there, and I’ve come to think that his initial plan, the plan he came up with once he got that call from Wu Xie and knew he would join Wu Xie on his last adventure, was to see this through for Wu Xie’s sake and then leave and die alone. I don’t know how much there would be left for Zhang Qiling after Wu Xie is gone. I feel like this is also what Wu Xie fears. But would he really resent Xiaoge for joining him in death after living such a long and hard life? I’d say no and I’d say that even Pangzi accepts this as one of the most likely outcomes. The bonus one then feels very personal to me. I don’t usually talk about this bc I feel so unsure of even mentioning this but I’ve seen others with similar thoughts so am sharing! I’ve never before gotten any vibes about a character’s sexuality in a drama I’ve watched but Reboot Wu Xie looked at me once in the eye and all I could hear was my brain yelling “asexual”. So, that is just my personal headcanon for Wu Xie. He’s ace and proud of it. He can flirt etc. but sex makes him go naah. He doesn’t need it or want it. He can appreciate beauty and hot ppl without wanting to sleep with them and I think his relationship with Xiaoge fits very well into this. I don’t have any personal experiences with being ace but I feel like Wu Xie has read the name once, shrugged and gone, “guess that’s me” and continued on with his life. He’s badass like that and I love him for it. (take a very relevant meme lol from this post)

IV. What’s the ideal pingxie date?

Ah, christ. I dunno if I’ve ever thought about them going on a date? In the middle of tomb raiding, hospital trips and fighting against powers bigger than themselves, I’ve rarely seen any time for them to do something like that lol. But after Ultimate Note, I’ve thought about star gazing a lot. Just them, the infinite night sky and some lonely hilltop. They would probably take a blanket with them, huddle together and talk about things in hushed voices. Wu Xie would go on a ramble about all the constellations and their meanings and mythology behind them and Xiaoge would just nod at him and watch Wu Xie talking. Maybe he would offer some tidbits in the middle of the rambling, making Wu Xie smile brightly. It would be relaxing and comfortable and loving. They would make out a lil bit. Would maybe lie down and play with each other’s hair. All their worries would feel insignificant. Wu Xie would fall asleep for a moment and Xiaoge would wake him up with a kiss to get him moving again so that they don’t need to sleep on the cold ground. They would return home and drink something warm and then go to sleep, cuddled together and happy. relevant edit x

V. What’s your favorite pingxie getting together scenario?

I guess I already talked about this a bit but let me elaborate then! As said, I’d see it happening after the Bronze Gate. I am not sure if it would be right away (they’re both going through so much trauma at that point) or if it would happen after Reboot (maybe we would still need Wu Xie almost dying for them to get their shit together), but I’d say it happens in a rush either way. It’s one of those “I have to tell you something before it’s too late” -type of moments. Or one of those “Bc I love you, you idiot!” -type of moments. I feel like I keep thinking that maybe Wu Xie would have to confess first bc as said, Xiaoge wouldn’t like to burden Wu Xie with his feelings when there’s so little he can give in the sense of normalcy. But then again, I have written a oneshot where Xiaoge is the first one to confess and that always feels better for me. That at some point Xiaoge feels secure enough to tell Wu Xie about his own feelings. That he feels confident and comfortable enough to say it out loud while still expecting nothing in return bc he knows that Wu Xie won’t abandon him either way. But no matter how that happens, I always see it as this dam breaking. The emotions finally become too strong. Something happens that reminds them that life is too short. Something happens that makes them finally talk it out and ah, Pangzi can finally take a break, what a joy

VI. What’s your favorite pingxie moment?

Every adaptation has its own good moments so let me make a list (like I saw someone else do too):

The Lost Tomb:

Xiaoge rescues Wu Xie from the shibie

Wu Xie worrying over unconscious Xiaoge plus taking care of him in the hotel room

The Pingxie MomentTM aka Xiaoge saving Wu Xie from falling and then cradling the boy to his chest while thumb rubbing his shoulder

The Lost Tomb 2:

Xiaoge revealed to be Baldie and Wu Xie yelling at him about it

Lowkey the whole underwater tomb arc bc holy shit that’s gay

Wu Xie losing it when Xiaoge doesn’t come up from the underwater tomb, diving after him and then almost dying himself + Pangzi getting angry at him for being stupid

pingxie ft. magical skype in the bronze tree cave (and Xiaoge being emo about the 1000yo warrior guy right before that)

Xiaoge rescuing Wu Xie from drowning (they shared air, you cannot convince me otherwise) + Wu Xie giving Xiaoge his watch in the hospital (relevant edits x x)

Wu Xie’s face when he sees Zhang Buxun in the coffin bc I love pain :)

Xiaoge not shooting Wu Xie despite not remembering him in the mountain village

Wu Xie grabbing Xiaoge’s jacket after being kidnapped and the Iron Triangle reunites in that old Chen guy’s cabin, asking, “Is that you?” from Xiaoge to make sure that he remembers again while looking like the biggest puppy (relevant edit x)

also some relevant memes x

Ultimate Note:

The hand over mouth reunion in the Golmud Sanatorium

“Xiaoge will ignore anyone else but you”

Xiaoge pretending he isn’t Losing ItTM throughout the whole time Wu Xie is in the Devil’s City with A-Ning

more hand over mouth with the gigantic snake

“The goddess has ascended”

Wu Xie protecting Xiaoge after he returns from the jade meteorite 

“Do you remember me?” “Wu Xie.”

Wu Xie promising to help Xiaoge find his memories no matter what bc Xiaoge’s business is Wu Xie’s business 

“Maybe you can return home with a wife today.” Wu Xie: proceeds to stare at Xiaoge, horrified

“Take me home.”

The sword gifting scene (especially Xiaoge denying the possibility of him killing Wu Xie or them harming each other, relevant edits x x)

other relevant edits for ultimate note x x

Reboot:

Wu Xie telling Xiaoge about his sickness and then Xiaoge coming back and promising to join Wu Xie on his trip (relevant edit x)

the death hallucination bc am a masochist 

Wu Xie’s death dream where Xiaoge calls to him but then accepts his choice to move forward bc am a masochist pt. 2

pingxie reunion in the Thunder City forest where Xiaoge saves Wu Xie & co. from the poisonous gas 

the moment in Thunder City where Wu Xie sits outside at night, eating the peanuts Pangzi gave him and then notices Xiaoge, offering him the peanuts and smiling 

when Xiaoge leaves for the last time and then gets reunited with healed Wu Xie against all odds

the train scene and their softest smiles to each other  

Time Raiders:

Wu Xie being the best bean and just wanting to befriend this mysterious man while seeing right under his skin and making Xiaoge baffled and fall in love in approximately 0.5 seconds

Xiaoge, catch! *proceeds to save only Wu Xie when they fall into that shibie horror chamber*  

Xiaoge’s desperation to save Wu Xie from the crumbling ground 

their death waltz at the end of the movie plus Xiaoge’s sacrifice

+ Sand Sea: 

“Don’t you dare call him Xiaoge!” 

Wu Xie offering his friends and then himself as comfort to Li Cu when he’s scared while smiling very softly at the memory of Xiaoge 

“But isn’t his surname Wu?” Hei Xiazi: You have seen nothing yet, you sweet summer child

Wu Xie talking about Xiaoge’s past in the temple (aka the Tibetan Sea Flower story bc I just adore how pretty they’ve made those scenes) 

VII. What is the best gift Wu Xie and Xiaoge could give each other?

I haven’t really thought about this type of stuff either bc we have already seen a ton of gifts being exchanged! I love the watch Wu Xie gives to Xiaoge in TLT2 as mentioned (it’s so silly but also so sweet) and I love it that Wu Xie gifts Xiaoge with a new sword in Ultimate Note. Also, I feel like I can count the food Wu Xie leaves for Xiaoge in Ultimate Note and that one moment where Xiaoge offers his knife for Wu Xie as a “pen”. They would give anything for each other as long as the other asked (which they never do) so I dunno what type of gift would matter the most. As it’s so hard to say, let me talk about one more headcanon that I’ve been thinking about ever since the infamous Bazaar photoshoot for Ultimate Note/XYL & ZSX. So, we see them having matching rings and necklaces in that photoshoot. I think jewelry would be kind of difficult for Xiaoge to wear when he needs to fight, as jewelry could be a hindrance in that type of situation But my brain won’t shut up about “pingxie married!!!” when I ask this question from it. To be honest, I do not see pingxie getting married in the traditional sense. They don’t need something like that after everything they’ve gone through. But I like to play around with the thought of promise rings. Just them exchanging rings for fun, for their own sakes, to have something concrete that reminds them of their promise to each other and of their feelings. Maybe even Xiaoge could wear that ring under his gloves idk. But am a sucker for that thought so my answer to this is then simply: a ring. relevant edits x x

if you read this far, thank you so much! I hope this gave you something and thank you once more for organizing this and allowing everyone to share their love for pingxie ^^ ♥

[graceedcoup]

Please tell me you're very detailed headcanon about Asmo holding the family together and raising Satan, because I headcanon that too.

Hi! I appreciate this literally so much I'm gonna kiss you on the mouth. Have a beautiful day ♡

I'd like to start off talking about this by acknowledging the fact that this entire very long headcanon hinges entirely on the fact that I'm ignoring canon details that support the suggestion that Satan was born as a fully grown demon and not formed as an infant who had to grow through formative childhood developmental stages. I would rather believe the latter because I lov..E Ba-biEs *ahem*.. because its more fun to think about.

Before I start I would also like to say that this is part of a much bigger more complicated idea about the dynamic each brother has with eachother and their own personal childhoods and histories, which I've went into some detail about with Levi just recently. But that was all still when they were celestial beings.

Let's fast forward to right after the fall. The brothers are all war damaged, bloody, grieving, guilty, humiliated. Lucifer has just basically been strongarmed into permanently pledging his loyalty to someone he doesn't yet trust or like at all just to get a second chance for his sister who he will never see again and is still effectively dead to him, and to make sure his family has some security. Which I think may be the piece of fuel in the fire inside him that finally expels this fucking hairball of repressed emotion into a living breathing little... infant demon. That absolutely no one asked for. Cue Lucifer having the worst cast of postpartum you've ever seen and resenting the fuck out of this baby and everything it represents and every bit more stress its gonna pile onto him.

But never fear, thats why family is here! Except they're not. They've all got their own shit to deal with. Mammon is already taking care of the rest of his siblings 24/7. He can barley make time to eat or sleep. Levi is very badly hurt, having been a target in the actual battle because of his former status in the army of angels and having gone through a very dramatic change to his body even compared to the rest of his brothers, he can't move very much yet. Belphie is struggling very hard with his newfound vice, he can rarley keep his eyes open, and when he can, hes grieving, hard. He was extremely close to Lilith. Beel... is an entirely different person. Quiet is an understatement. Hes nearly motionless for days at a time in his misery and deeeep in survivors guilt.

And Asmo is also hurt. They all are but him, not quite as badly. Emotionally he's taken a big blow, he's confused, he feels hideous and disgusted by himself, his new body and these new... feelings. He looks for a distraction. Hes been looking for days but his big brother just coughed out a little brother and Asmodeus instantly has stars in his eyes. If any of them have any kind of maternal instinct, its this one. Love is, after all, his whole thing. That horrible little tantruming ball of pure demonic fury is his new baby brother and hes never been happier to step up to the plate. Lucifer is almost too eager to let Asmo hold him the first time and from that moment on those two are inseparable.

-> Taking a pause from this pseudo fic to point out the thing that got me thinking about all this in the first place was a conversation about halfway through season one where MC refuses to make a pact with Satan the first time because he's doing it to spite Lucifer. They ask the brothers what the fuck is going on with that and they all have a little sit-down where they talk about his birth. All the brothers present look kind of uncomfortable but share the story as clearly as they can. But Asmo looks like this and gives this line:

He looks downright excited and this is the only line we get about actually raising him we get. For some reason it stuck with me, idk why. Asmo just seems so proud to share about how they taught Satan to be a person. Back to how I think that went

-> Asmo quickly learns about his ability to charm other demons and just as soon as he learns how to control that he feels comfortable using a very mild form of it to calm this baby the fuck down. And it works! Thank his cold uncaring father it works. Satan smiles for the first time in his life and he sheds a few tears both in relief and at how unbearably cute he is when he's not screaming. As soon as this baby is manageable and his brothers aren't in nearly as much pain, they all start pitching in. Doing whatever it takes to calm him down, finding things to make him happy. They make the disturbing discovery that its mostly gore that makes him smile. And yanking other peoples hair. His first giggle comes with a tiny fistful of newly-black strands he won't let go of.

Even with his brothers contributing to his care, Asmo still has a major part in keeping him company. Lucifer pitches in the most after him but if his favorite caretaker isn't around hes fussy as all hell.

Asmo, being blessed with the emotional intelligence the rest of his family seems to lack, is responsible for calming the kid down and teaching him healthier ways to manage his anger and stress. He teaches him meditation and yoga and self care. Hes the only one of his brothers with both the interest and patience to teach him how to read, how to cook, how to mind his manners. His anger never disappears. Hes still more prone to outbursts than any of his siblings ever were. Hes still much more violent when he does snap. But he can control it better than he could the day before and he keeps improving. Week after week and year after year, Satan grows into somebody all his brothers are proud of.

And hes still bonded to Asmodeus the most. Despite their clashing personalities they manage to get along perfectly and spend quite a bit of time together.

Theyre paired off in Devilgram and even the main body of the story quite a bit. Asmos even is Satan's background picture during phonecalls. I'm not sure if I'm reading way too far into that wait I totally am or if the writers are even aware they're doing that but I think its sweet and ive been thinking about it for months. Thank you for the opportunity to organize it all into one place ♡

[emilymaypeck]

Final Goodbyes: My Thoughts

Content warning: cancer, bereavement, grief.

So, this post is going to be something quite personal, and the contents of what I’m going to discuss might be upsetting for some of you - as a warning, I will be touching on on the topic of death and bereavement, and just how life has gone the last couple of days.

So today (12th February, 2022) started off quiet nicely - with it being my best friend’s birthday, as I mentioned in today’s earlier post. I got her “A Million Sloths” colouring book by Lulu Mayo, and she really loves it - and hopefully she’ll show me some of her glorious colouring-in in a few days.

But sadly, this isn’t really about her - this post is more focused on my step-mum. I call her step-mum, even though she and my dad aren’t married - they’ve been a couple for nearly 18 years now, so she might as well be my step-mum. Anyways, in October of 2017, we heard the news that she was diagnosed with Stage 3 lung cancer. That basically means that the cancer itself cannot be cured, and that it’s pretty much terminal.

For the past four and a half years, she’s been through chemotherapy, radiotherapy, immunotherapy... She’s had good days, bad days... Terrible days... Absolutely delightful days, such as seeing her beloved Liverpool FC win the Champions League, Super Cup, Club World Cup, Premier League (which was right before her birthday in 2020!) and she’s been lucky enough to see her two great-granddaughters being born, my dad’s first grandchild (my nephew)...

But this past year - second half of 2021, primarily - her condition had gotten worse, so much so, she became bed-bound, and she had to use a commode in order to relieve herself. Christmas came and went... And this last week, her condition has gone further downhill. A caffita was fitted to help her urinate - despite lack of eating and drinking - and pain relief was fitted through an IV tube. Since last night, she has been basically unresponsive. She can’t talk... She can’t drink, eat, urinate, or anything. But she is not in pain - she is serene, and comfortable. She’s there physically, but sadly not mentally. She’s completely out of it, and... We all know that she will be leaving us sooner rather than later.

We’ve had family and friends come down to my dad’s house for the last couple of days - all saying their goodbyes, and how much they love her, and how they’ll never forget her. I have shed some tears - but I know more will come. I’ve been round Thursday night, and this afternoon... And I do plan on seeing her tomorrow morning. 

I wanted to get my thoughts out because its only been more recently that I’ve kind of accepted the fact that she will pass away soon, and that there’s nothing I can do. Grief and coping with death is difficult enough for a neurotypical individual, but being autistic, there’s been times in my past where a family member has passed away, and someone will say to me: “Oh, how come you haven’t cried yet?” or “Well you don’t seem upset about it.” That’s because it can take me time to process certain emotions - like, when my step-dad’s mother passed away in June of 2017, I didn’t cry until the day of her funeral when I saw her coffin being carried into the chapel... Which was in JULY of 2017. How I describe it is basically the experience of feeling too much of a certain emotion, and not knowing how to handle it, or how to convey it. Grief, and empathy are the main two I struggle with.

Tomorrow is quite possibly the last day I will ever have with my step-mum.. And that is a very strange feeling. Like, possibly, by this time tomorrow, she will have taken her last breath, and she will be gone. After her death, she’ll be picked up, taken to a crematorium, and be cremated - she’s not having a funeral, she’s made that very clear. But the second she releases her final breath, I will no longer have a step-mum in my life. Part of me is kind of relived that she’s not in pain, and that she’s going to be surrounded by loved ones, and she’ll let go when she’s ready...

But part of me dreads that final moment. I dread saying goodbye for the final time. I dread that final kiss on her cheek and forehead, and telling her “Thank you for being in my life for 18 years,” because... I know I will lose my strength and let it all out when that final breath is taken, and that heart stops beating. Its that final moment of seeing her breathing stop... And that kills me. 

As Queen Elizabeth II once said:

“Grief is the price we pay for love.”

EDIT:

My dad just rang me.

8:10pm.

She's gone.