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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

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thefallennightmare · 6 months

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Just Pretend-twelve

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: All I will say is enjoy my loves.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart

NOAH

“You wanna take, take, take. You wanna break, break, break my heart,” I rambled while pacing my room.

Fuck, do I need to add break that many times?

I rambled the sentence a few more times to see how it tasted on my tongue.

Fuck it, I shrugged. It’s good.

My fingers drummed a beat against thigh as I continued to pace the room, anything to keep my mind off of my fucking phone. “But now I know my place.”

Hi.

Who the hell says hi?

It’s been 4 minutes and 35 seconds. No-wait-4 minutes and 53 since I texted Y/N. She’ll probably leave me on read. Especially after how I was acting the last few weeks. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that one of the guys told her how I’d been drinking. Why would she want another Trey? There’s no way she’d respond. Maybe this friendship is over, even despite our feelings. Despite everything maybe it was a lost cause.

“Fuck, I need to get the verse down,” I tossed my phone onto my bed and sang the verse once again.

“You couldn’t wait, wait, wait. For the day, day, day I lost. It’s such a shame, shame, shame you couldn’t change, look what it cost.”

Why the hell did I add day that many times? You know what? I think it works but I’ll ask Jolly what he thinks. As I stood from bed, I scratched at my stomach, my shirt riding up just the slightest and I couldn’t help but think of the reason Y/N gave me my nickname.

“Because you’re the sweetest and your stomach is soft.”

“Idiot,” I grumbled while clipping my hair back away from my face.

I could use a trim.

With a sigh, I took two steps, ready to leave my phone behind on my bed, until his rang loudly and I whipped my head back so fast. My hands shook at my sides, not reaching for it yet, afraid that I might have misheard the notification. But when my phone went off another time, I nearly jumped onto my bed to grab it.

Your Amazon package is out for delivery!

Just as I was about to chuck my phone across the wall, something told me to check the message thread with Y/N one more time.

My message was the last one sent but my heart fell slightly when I saw three bubbles appear.

“Oh shit,” I muttered almost dropping my phone but kept the grip on it firm.

The bubbles disappeared only to appear a few seconds later just to disappear for a few moments too long.

The entire time, I sat on the edge of my bed as my knee bounced in a rapid pace, just as my heart did while I waited to see if she would respond.

Angel 🪽: Hi mochi.

I jumped to my feet, a loud thud echoing from how hard the force was, and I bounced on my heels trying to think of what to say.

Hey, how are you?

Nice, something short and simple. Don’t want to push her too far.

I wasn’t sure what to say, not really. I just knew I wanted her back in my life regardless of how things went. It killed me not to have even the slightest of contact. The first step is this.

Angel 🪽: can we FaceTime? only if you’re comfortable with that. There are some things I need to say and it would be better to face to face than texting.

“Fuck,” I began pacing the length of my bedroom once again, panic setting in low in my stomach. Texting her was one thing but to see her face again made my skin itch and skin tingle in the best way.

But she hurt you.

I sighed at the voice in my mind, knowing it was true, but right now it didn’t matter. We were ready to move past what happened.

Sure.

Seconds later, my phone rang, the trill of it a constant buzzing and I hesitated to answer. But I knew I had too. I was the one that set out the end of the olive branch and she was reaching for it, begging me to pull her back.

Giving myself a quick once over in the mirror of my closets, I smoothed down my hair and wiped at the imaginary dirt on my face before I clicked the green button and soon her face appeared on my screen.

Fuck, she looked ragged. The sunken eyes, the bruised smile but shit, she still looked so beautiful. With the true state I’d been in, I knew I probably didn’t look better.

“Hi,” her voice was rough but angelic.

I noticed my door was open so once that was shut, I sat down at my computer chair, leaning back slightly.

“Hey.”

“How have you been?”

My chair rocked back and forth. “Good, how about you?”

There was a long beat of silence, and I used that time to look at her surroundings. There was a large window behind her with the setting sun casting an orange glow around her.

A true fucking angel.

“Good,” she said after a long breath. “You know what, lets cut the bullshit.”

I blinked, perplexed where this conversation was headed now.

“Angel-,” I began.

But her stern eyes stared back at me when she shook her head. “No, mochi, I need to say this. Please let me say this.”

I took a deep breath, ignoring the way my heart skipped a beat when she said my nickname, and urged her on with a nod.

Her mouth moved like a fish out of water, trying to gather her words. “I hurt you. I hurt you and I’m so fucking sorry, Noah.”

I stared at her and to be honest; I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn't sure who would apologize first then I remembered I didn’t need to apologize. I wasn’t the one who left.

“It’s-.”

“No,” she cut me off. “Let me finish. I’m truly sorry. I had no right to just up and leave with no explanation.”

She abruptly stood and walked across her room before sitting on her bed now, a furry animal curled up on the pillow next to her.

Salem.

“There are so many things haunting me, Noah. As I’m sure there are things haunting you and I’m just-I’m sorry.”

I wanted to say something, anything, but I sat frozen holding the phone in front of my face while I perched my other arm behind my head. There were so many thoughts weighing heavy on my mind until finally I started small.

“I-I appreciate your apology.”

I wanted to deep deeper into this; I wanted to continue to dig and dig and dig under her skin and brain because I wanted to know more but she was holding back.

She brought Salem into her lap then set up her phone that I could see her entire body and the cat on her lap. Y/N looked beautiful in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, her hair in a disarrayed bun, strands falling into her face but didn’t care enough to brush away.

Noise outside my door took my attention away from my phone for a few seconds as I sat up straighter in my chair, eyes narrowing towards the door.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

My eyes snapped back to my phone at that word; friendship.

We already established there's nothing more than being friends. It doesn’t make much sense with what we’d been through but right now, I’d take what I can get.

“I don’t want to, either,” I admitted with a sigh. “These last few weeks have been pretty rough for me and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, angel.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “I missed you too, mochi. So we can both agree, fresh start?”

“I’d like that,” I smiled. “Salem?”

She beamed while holding up the cat so he could extended his body straight like a stick. “Yep. He’s settled into the move right away. You should see Malcolm with him. At first, Malcolm wouldn’t even be in the same room together but now, I catch him stealing Salem from my room so he could cuddle him.”

I chuckled at the vision of large Malcolm snuggling with a small cat on the couch.

“What about you? How are you enjoying living in Los Angeles?”

“I haven’t got out much because of the pandemic but now that the ban is lifted, I want to find an art studio or a gym. Something to get my ass out of the house.”

“You should come with me to my gym,” the words rushed out before I could stop myself. “I’ve been trying to get one of the guys to come with but they won’t.”

She raised a hesitant brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to interject myself in something thats yours.”

“Angel, I promise you its fine.” I assured her.

“Alright, fuck it. I’m in,” she smiled. “I want to learn some taekwondo.”

I hummed. “Lucky for you, the place I go offers some great classes on Tuesdays and Fridays, we can go this week?”

It was already Wednesday so it would be a few days before we rushed into this.

“I’d like that, Noah. Thank you.”

“Y/N, the pharmacy called me because you didn’t answer. Your meds are ready for pickup.”

Chase appeared behind Y/N in the screen and when he saw me, he cursed. “Fuck, I didn’t know you were on the phone. Sup, Noah.”

I nodded. “Hey man.”

Y/N waved Chase off. “It’s fine. We can pick them up after dinner.”

“Meds? Everything alright?” I asked with slight worry.

I fully expected her to brush me off or change the subject.

“Remember when I told you that night that I deal with something every month and it’s a lot?”

I tried not to remember the aftermath of us having sex.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Well, I have to take different meds to help with it. It’s a lot to go into right now but I promise, one day.”

“Whenever you’re ready, angel,” I said with a smile, not wanting to feel like she needed to be forced to tell me what was wrong with her.

“What the fuck? I’m starving and you two are chit chatting like teenage girls who just found out the schools hot gossip.”

Malcolm appeared on screen behind Y/N and threw up the two fingered peace sign. “Sorry, Noah. We’re taking her away from you.”

I chuckled. “All good. We can talk tomorrow? I can call around 2:30?”

Y/N smiled that bright smile that pulled at the strings of my heart; the one that connected us. “I’d like that, mochi.”

With one final goodbye, I hit the red button, ending the call with a sigh. It was only a few minute long conversation but enough to ease the worry if everything would be alright.

“Shit.”

“Get your foot off of my knee, you dumbass.”

“Did they hang up? I can’t hear anything?”

What the fuck?

JOLLY

“We shouldn’t eavesdrop. It’s not our place,” I said with my hands deep in my pockets.

“Dude, were not listening to him fuck her. They’re talking since they fucked,” Orie pointed to Noah’s closed door.

“Real classy, dickhead,” Jesse smacked the back of Orie’s head.

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in defense. “I want to hear! Now move.”

Jesse kneeled in front of Noah’s door with Orie leaning over him, and Michale standing behind Orie.

“Why are they talking about taekwando?” Jesse wondered.

“Shut the fuck up, Jesse I can’t hear,” Michael slapped his arm.

I shook my head before temptation gave in and I kneeled next to Jesse so I could get a better listen. This was the first time Y/N and Noah would talk since that night and since there wasn’t any raised voices, I could only hope it was a civil conversation.

“Move your hair it’s in my face,” Jesse tried to push me away.

“Not my fault you’re a dwarf, man,” I shrugged then hushed him.

“I’d like that, Noah. Thank you.”

The small glimmer of hope that things would be okay intensified when I heard the softness of Y/N’s voice. I could almost imagine that eye crinkling smile she would do; the one Noah loved.

“If Noah knows we’re listening, he won’t turn the heat on for a week,” Michael reminded us.

“Shit,” Jesse cursed.

Orie pushed Michale away. “Get your foot off of my knee, you dumbass.”

“Did they hang up? I can’t hear anything?”

Suddenly, the door opened behind us but I was the only saved from falling to the floor at Noah’s feet that was covered with his favorite pair of Naurato socks; Jesse, Orie, and Michael all falling on top of each other in a heap.

“What the fuck?” Noah cursed with hands on his hips. “Were you guys listening to my conversation?”

The three of them scrambled to their feet before running down the stairs, their laughter echoing through our shared home. I watched with a small smile and shook my head before Noah glared over to me.

“Fuck you, you know what? No heat. I’m serious! Kiss my ass.” He called out after them. “It’s going to be 65 degrees all week!”

“Wasn’t my idea,” I defended with my hands held up.

Groans carried upstairs as soon as Noah turned off the heat. “Oh, come on, Noah!”

“What the fuck, man!”

A sly smirk played at his lips. “We got stock in Bad Omens hoodies; fucking wear one and don’t listen to my phone calls.”

Once Noah retreated into his room, I stared at the closed door with a proud smile. It was a drastic change in attitude from how he was just last week. Talking to Y/N brought out the playful, joking side of Noah that we all love and missed.

Maybe things were going to be alright.

“So who’s going up there to ask how it went,” Orie’s voice called out from downstairs.

NOAH

The soft, delicate, knock against my bedroom door made me take off my headphones, setting them down on my desk. Exiting out of my game and making sure TWITCH was closed out, I rose from my seat and ran a hand through my hair before I opened the door, heart falling into my stomach at the sight in front of me.

Y/N was wringing her nervous hands together, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Angel? What are you doing here?” I questioned while leaning an arm against the door.

“Uh, Jesse let me in. I-I needed to see you,” she hugged the jacket closer to her chest, something clearly bothering her.

My brows scrunched together, still shocked that she was standing in front of me. Just a few hours ago, we were talking on FaceTime about our gym meet up tomorrow and she said she needed to hang up because Chase and her had plans to go hiking.

“Everything alright?”

She hesitated eyes darting to my bedroom. “I need your help, Noah.”

My heart jumped into my throat as I stood straighter, unsure if I heard her correctly. “With what? Is something broken?”

“No, Noah,” Y/N’s voice dropped low before taking a step towards me, hands trailing down my chest. “I need you.”

Oh, fuck.

The passionate, high energy, tension that we feared was lost came flooding back into our veins as I yanked Y/N into the room, kicking the door shut behind her. I wrapped my hand behind her head and sparks shot through my entire existence when I pressed my lips against Y/N’s in a soul shattering, earth ending kiss. My tongue pushed past her lips almost instantly, finding hers in a fight for dominance. It explored every inch of her mouth and she moaned, nails scratching at the fabric of my shirt. With one hand wrapped around the back of her neck, the other slipped underneath her shit to graze over the soft skin of her stomach.

“Noah,” she breathed against my lips.

“Fuck, I missed you angel,” I walked her backwards towards my bed.

Her lips were swollen, lipstick smeared from the force of our kiss, and I felt all the heat rush straight to my cock when I thought of those lips stretched around me, drool leaking out of the corners of her mouth and trickling down her chin as she struggled to take all of me in.

My dick ached in pain, needing some sends of release; soon.

I helped her out of her clothes; her doing the same to me, as our lips met again. My teeth bitting down on her bottom one as she tried to pull away.

She hissed while dabbing a finger to her face. “Did-did you just bite me?”

I took in the sight of her standing in front of me in a simple black matching bra and panties set.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” I hooked a finger into the strap of her bra, sliding it down over her shoulder.

The tattoo’s that littered her skin almost glowed from the neon lights in my room. Kaonashi on her arm, the large array if flowers and veins on the other arm, the one of all the Greek Gods on Mt. Olympus on her thigh, and the small design of Totoro on her ankle, the ones we got on her birthday. Aogaeru from Spirited Away on my ankle.

Turning her towards my bed, I trailed my fingers down her back to unhook her bra, letting it fall down to the floor at our feet. My lips littered soft kisses along the large snake and flower tattoo on her back as I dropped to my knees, slipping off her panties to her ankles.

“Fucking beautiful,” I praised while looking up at her.

Y/N peered down at me over her shoulder. “I could get used to you being on your knees for me.”

I turned her back to face me and left my hands on her hips. “I’ll pray to this body every night if that means you stay with me, angel.”

Her hand raked through the long locks of my hair and I let myself relax into her touch as I stared at her warm core right in front of me. The phantom taste from the last time I tasted her still lingered on my tongue.

“Noah?”

I hummed while peering up through my lashes at her.

“Stand up.”

Doing what she said, I stood to my feet and now towered over her by atleast a foot. Her nails scratched down my bare chest and I hissed in pure ecstasy. The pain making me realize this was real. She was in front of me.

I attacked her lips once again as her fingers trailed down over my stomach to the waistband of my briefs, helping me step out of them. Y/N’s eyes flashed down to my hard cock as it sprang free, beads of pre-cum spilling from the slit. I rubbed my thumb over it and groaned at how sensitive I was.

“I missed you,” Y/N pressed a kiss to the pulse point of my throat; the apple.

My head titled back to give her more access, and I gripped her hips tighter.

“Sit down,” she nodded to the edge of my bed.

Once seated, Y/N kneeled down on the floor between my legs and I shivered under her touch again as her nails raked up and down my thighs. I watched her actions from the mirror behind her, eyes drinking in the sight of her large back tattoo and the perkiness of her round ass. My cock twitched in front of her face as she gazed up at me, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’ve dreamed of the way you tasted, Noah.”

My fingers grazed over her chin, up her jaw, to the back of her head and tangled within the waves of her hair. My other hand gripped my cock as I guided the tip towards her lips.

“Open those pretty lips for me, angel.”

A guteral groan sounded from the back of my throat and I titled my head up towards the ceiling, my long hair cascading down my back. I gripped Y/N’s head with a vise grip and guided her up and down; slowly at first until I reached the resistance of the back of her throat and buried my cock deep in there.

“Shit,” I breathed when she choked on me. “Feels so good.”

I kept her there for a few more seconds before letting the grip on her head ease enough that she could start moving once again. She flattened her tongue to press underneath my shaft and when her fingers cupped my tight balls; I knew I was nearing the edge of bliss. The bottom of my spine tingled with a burning that only she could bring but not yet; I didn’t want this to be over yet.

She pulled off of my cock with a loud pop as I lifted her from the ground to kneel on my bed. I pressed my large hand over her bed so I could push her upper half down on the bed while keeping her ass up in the air. I positioned us so we could face the mirror and I trailed a finger down her spine.

“Spread your legs for me,” I ordered before laying a firm smack to her ass.

Y/N writhed with a moan but did as I asked. I guided the head of my throbbing cock up and down the wetness of her folds.

“Noah,” she whined. “Please.”

“You like that, angel?” I asked.

She moans her response, but I didn’t like that answer. With my cock poised at her entrance, I leaned over her back so my warm breath fanned over the crook of her neck.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I like it,” she answered breathlessly.

“Good girl,” I praised before slipping into her tightness; finally.

We shared a long moan, the feeling of being connected once again being almost too much for me to take, my cock pulsating inside of her. The warmth spread over every inch of pricked skin, the sensation clawing at my insides; in the best way possible. It felt like how it did that night only better because she wasn’t going anywhere. I’d make sure she’d stay tonight.

“I’m so tense, Noah,” she writhed underneath me.

I lazily kissed her back as my hips rutted up against her. “You came back.”

I pushed her face into the mattress because of my weight on her back so she could only speak.

“Always.”

My hair spread over her back when I pressed my forehead in-between her shoulders, the sweat from her skin tasting bittersweet on my tongue. I sunk my teeth deep into her, marking her as my own and pulled my cock almost all the way out, just leaving the tip.

“Mine?”

Her answer was a mess of curses when my fingers pressed into her clit, drawing fast circles. His pussy clenched over my cock as she came undone, her arousal spreading down my thighs. I hooked my fingers in her mouth to hold her up so she could watch us in the mirror now.

“Watch as I fuck your pretty pussy,” I ordered, long hair covering my face.

Y/N did the best she could to nod with my hooks in her mouth and my pace became relentless, slamming into her so hard and fast, the noises echoed throughout my room. The burning felt warm at the base of my spine as my heart pounding widly in my chest, my own orgasm so fucking close to destroying me. She looked fucking angelic from her reflection in the mirror. Her skin soaked in the neon glows of the lights of my bedroom and I wondered if anyone could hear us through the white noise of our moans and skin slapping.

My name sounded muffled from her throat since I still had my fingers hooked inside her mouth.

“What?” I unhooked my fingers.

Y/N swallowed thickly. “I want you to fuck me against the mirror.”

Anything for you, angel.

With an arm around her stomach, I lifted her off of the bed and walked over to my mirror closet, pressing her back to it. I hooked her leg over my hip then slid deep within her walls once again, my head falling to her chest with this new angle.

“Fuck,” my teeth graze over the perky buds of her nipples, swirling my tongue over them.

“Harder,” she begged, running her hands through my hair.

She gathered it at the ends and pulled my head back to crash her lips to mine and with a few hard slams of my cock into her, Y/N came apart once again for me, screaming her release into my mouth. My back tensed as my stomach muscles contracted, and with the force of my thrusts, the closet doors shook, one of them breaking off the rolling hinge and shattering the glass directly in the middle.

“Shit,” Y/N giggled.

I paid no mind to the broken glass as I buried myself deep within her, orgasm so close to cresting over me in waves.

“Cum for me, Noah,” she nipped and sucked at the tattoo across my neck again.

Her name fell from my lips repeatedly, cock thrusting into her with every utter of it.

“I love you, Noah.”

“Noah.”

“Noah, wake-.”

“NOAH! Wake up!”

My eyes bolted open as my chest heaved with every deep breath, heart pulsating to an uneven rhythm. Sweat covered every inch of my skin as I peered down at my body, dick standing straight up underneath the sheer fabric of my blanket.

It was a dream?

Fuck, I sighed while running a hand over my face before staring directly into the eyes of the person who wasn’t in my dreams two seconds ago.

Jesse took a bite out of an apple and nodded down towards me. “I hate to ruin whatever you have going on, but it’s time to get up.”

I rubbed my eyes in exhaustion and continued to heave, trying to ease my racing heart. Fick, that felt so real I was sure I was going cum.

“Must have been some dream, you were really enjoying that,” he chuckled before taking another large bite out of his apple.

I chucked my pillow at him. “I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t. Now hurry the fuck up, your oatmeal is getting cold.” He chuckled. “Although, maybe you need a cool down. Take a cold shower first.”

“Fuck off,” I tossed another pillow at him.

Thirty minutes and a very ice-cold shower later, I trekked down the stairs into the kitchen where three smug smiles stared at me.

“Oh, you’re finally awake!” Orie gave me a teasing smirk.

“Yeah, he was a little occupied,” Jesse laughs.

I knocked the apple out of his hands; it clattering to the kitchen counter.

“With what now?” Jolly questioned with a mock curiosity.

“Noah had a wet dream,” Jesse informed everyone.

“Shut the fuck up,” I said through gritted teeth. “Why are you guys always in my business?”

They all share a laugh before Jolly’s calming voice brought a sense of sincerity to the conversation. “It’s not a big deal, Noah. Was it- was it about Y/N?”

I did my best to hide the way my face reddened by sticking my head in the fridge to grab the milk.

“Oh, fuck. Angel. So good.” Jesse mocked in a voice that sounded nothing like me.

“Laugh it up,” I grumbled while slamming the fridge shut, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“It’s not a big deal, Noah, considering you see her today. Are you feeling okay?” Jolly wondered.

I shrugged while stuffing my hands into my gym shorts. “Yeah why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, just becau-.”

“Look I appreciate you guys, really. And I love you for helping me. I just-I want to try to atleast get back to being friends with her. I want to move past this awkward bullshit and have her in my life again. I can’t care about the details right now.”

“We know,” Orie nodded. “We want to make sure you two are going slow this time.”

“I know, I know. We’re meeting at the gym today, be nice to just hang out and do something-healthy. Talk.” I smiled with excitement and nerves.

Jolly smile while standing to his feet. “Good, I’m glad you two are talking again. Still want to write tonight?

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got another track we can start.”

NOAH

Inside the gym, two minutes before our meet time, I waited by sitting in a chair my leg bounced up and down, up and down- I paced that gym floor, burnt rubber almost gave the room a scent. I was finally seeing her again, since that night. Not on the phone, not waiting for a text. Physical and beautiful form. She had come back into my life like a sudden flame, blazing and streaming into my heart. I stayed up all night contemplating the certain agony I knew would be mine if I were to lose her twice.

Movement out of the corner of my eye made me turn towards the direction of the door, her angelic form stepping into my line of sight. Immediately, thoughts of my dream earlier came flooding back, and I shifted on my feet, hoping my cock would get the memo not to get hard.

Not right now.

All the breath got knocked out of me when her bright eyes landed on me and I gave her a small, awkward wave. When I saw her last on FaceTime yesterday, her skin still looked sunken in and pale, but now she looked like all the life had been breathed back into her.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hey.”

“Sorry I’m late. Chase dropped me off so I only have an hour before he picks me up. Something about him and Malcolm having tickets to a movie tonight.”

I waved her off. “You’re fine, angel. I could always give you a ride back home if you need.”

She thought about it, I could tell the way her pupils dilated.

“That’s sweet of you, Noah. But Chase promised he’d buy me Greek for dinner tonight before dropping me off to my art class,” she shrugged playfully.

I wasn’t sure if that was the truth or just an excuse not to spend more alone time together. Even if our conversation was flowing, there was still that awkward tension because of the elephant in the room; the one neither of us wanted to discuss. We wanted to move past what happened, start fresh.

“Art class?”

“Yeah,” she beamed. “I’m taking some painting lessons. Just another thing I started post pandemic.”

“That’s great, angel. I’d love to see what you create,” I said.

We were silents for a few long beats, just gazing at each other, and feeling the sudden thick tension, I motioned towards the equipment behind me.

“Is there something specific you want to get started on?”

“I usually like to warm up on the treadmill,” Y/N said while adjusting the strap of her gym bag.

We walked over to a more quiet area of the gym, neither of us wanting to be noticed, and as I set my things down on an open bench, I tossed off my sweater, being left in a cut off t-shirt and black shorts, and when I noticed Y/N was still wearing her heavy sweater, I raised a brow.

“Aren’t you going to get hot in that?”

She shrugged while playing with the zipper. “I’ll be fine.”

“Angel,” I took a step towards her. “Take it off. It’s hot in here already. Don’t feel like you have to hide yourself, especially from me. Remember that?”

Considering I’ve seen it all already.

Ignoring the voice in my head, I watched as Y/N eventually nodded and shed off the extra layer, now standing in front of me in tight leggings that hugged her ass perfectly and a sports bra, showing off the toned stomach I wanted to graze my tongue over.

Focus, Noah.

For the next hour, we spent time on our own choices of machines but still within range of sight. Since we were here later on in the evening, the gym wasn't that crowded. Every so often, our gazes would find each other from across the area we were working out in; me on the weight machine, her at the treadmills. It was that invisible string that tethered our hearts together, always wanting to make sure that we never strayed to far from each other.

Now, we stood packing up our things and Y/N hissed as she tried to rub out a sore spot in her back, one she couldn’t reach.

“Mochi, do you mind helping stretching me out?”

Fuck. Me.

The nickname did wonders on my already racing heart.

“Uh, yea. Sure.”

My fingers gripped her hips as she twisted and turned, before bending over to touch her toes while one hand began rubbing out the tense knots in her back.

“Oh, thank you, Noah. I’ve been so tense back there lately.”

“I’m so tense, Noah,” she writhed underneath me.

Images of her underneath me, cock slamming into her, made my cock twitch with the need to be touched. And with how close Y/N was to me as she stood straight, I knew if she took the slightest step back, my cock would brush against her ass.

Fuck, this wasn’t going to be easy.

NOAH

I all but busted through the front door, gripping my gym bag so tight my knuckles had gone white. Shortly after helping stretch out Y/N, Chase arrived to pick her up. We decided we would meet every Friday around 1o am for the taekwando classes. Ever since my dream this morning and now what happened at the gym, my cock was throbbing almost in pain, begging for release.

“How did your workout go?”

“Went great,” I tossed towards Jesse who sat with Harper in his lap on the couch.

“Just great? I mean that’s it?”

With a sigh, I stopped halfway up the stairs. “Yeah we talked, we- we’re good. I’m gonna take a shower and I’ll be down soon.”

Finally in the solitude of the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror. Sweat covered every inch of me again and I tensed, my whole face red and contorted. Y/N in that outfit haunted my mind since the second I saw her. I see the way she moved during her workout, her panting, the sweat dripping off her skin.

Then thoughts of our night together overtook me and I gripped the bathroom counter to steady myself. It was impossibly hard to forget.

“Fuck,” I groaned feeling the blood rushing to every organ in my body.

I turned the shower on, letting the steam gather and levitate around the room.

Hades doesn't have shit on me.

The steam almost makes me glow as I continued to stand there, staring at myself in the mirror for a few more seconds before stripping out of my gym clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor.

My body was wet, soaked from the steam and sweat alone, as my chest heaved with every deep breath I took. Flashes of Y/N still overtaking my mind. Once finally under the spray of the water, I couldn’t take it anymore; my cock couldn't take it anymore. It was thick, red, and angry from the prolonged release and I brushed my thumb over the head, smearing the pre-cum from tip to base. With one hand on the wall and the other wrapped tightly around my cock, I stroked myself fast, not wanting to drag this out any longer.

“I miss the way you say my name, angel,” I panted.

I hear her say my name over and over. Memories flash from the beginning, her smile, her body, the way she was mounted on top of me. Oh gods, I see it and her mouth in an O shape as she came undone on my cock; in the dream and real life.

My head tilted back towards the water and I had to open my mouth, letting the water deep throat me, to muffle my sounds. The noises, the voice that was her in my head. It was so hard to just pretend what it’s like when I tasted the real thing before.

“God, I want to fuck you again. So bad.”

My deep, guttural groan echoed through the confines of the bathroom as my hips stilled, my release finally spilling into my hand.

NOAH

I sat on the edge of my bed, towel wrapped loosely around my hips, and the pen scratching widely on the paper in my lap. My head snapped up to the mirror in front of me, hair soaked with the water from my shower as droplets fell onto the pages in my lap and smearing some of the ink. But I didn’t care; I would always remember these words.

The perfect mirror. The one that didn’t have a crack running along it; reminding me that earlier today was a dream. I laughed a breathy laugh, grinning ear to ear while shaking my head. I fell into deep thought. Maybe I was in delirium, could have been the orgasm, could have been seeing Y/N again. Most likely both.

“Loves the death of peace of mind,” I muttered and proceeded writing the chorus of what I knew was true.

“You’re in the walls that I made with crosses and frames hanging upside down. For granted, in vain, I took everything I ever cared about.”

Shit, this was good.

Quickly standing to my feet, I threw on some clothes but before I left the room; I snapped a few selfies, then snatched the pad of paper to run down the stairs.

“Where’s the fire?” Nicholas chuckled.

Thankfully, everyone I needed was already in the living room; Jolly, Nicholas, and Folio.

I tossed the pad of paper on the table in front of them. “New song.”

The three shared a look before they leaned forward to read what I wrote.

“The way you fuck, the way you taste? For fuck's sake, Noah. I don’t want to know that shit,” Nicholas rolled his eyes.

I shrugged while bouncing on the soles of my feet with excitement. “Then plug your ears, man. Doesn't matter to me.”

Jolly was the one who spoke next. “The way you bend? The way you break? Fuck, what the hell happened in that hotel room?”

I smile the smallest of smiles. “All I’ll say is I was Mount Olympus.”

The three of them share yet another look before Folio shakes his head. “Didn’t need the image, bro.”

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

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blughxreader · 1 year

Note

hi! i dont think i can ever get enough of yan! platonic! Batfam 🥲 can i get a neglected reader who has successfully escaped, only to come back to gotham by some unprecedented causes a few years later? i have plans to write a fic like this and want some inspiration (and to fill the yandere batfam tag)

Platonic Yandere!Bruce, Dick, Jason with a darling who escaped and returned to Gotham

Headcanons, WC: 1,048

Notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! This ask is five months old lol. I had to cut out the baby boys to finish </3 If I can come up with ideas for Damian and Tim then I'll add to it.

Bruce

The weight of Bruce’s mistakes hangs over his head every day, but his mistakes with you are by-far the heaviest.

He should have appreciated you more. He should have told you what you meant to him. Instead, he let you feel invisible. It kills him.

When you’re spotted in Gotham years later, he can hardly believe it.

He’ll drop everything and go straight to you, deploying all the boys to ensure you don’t slip away. If it’s daytime, Bruce Wayne will make a rare appearance and corner you with paparazzi, and if it’s nighttime, then Batman will swipe you off the streets before you can cry out.

He’ll forgive every outburst you give. You’re furious and he understands—he considers your anger entirely his fault so he’ll give you a lot of slack.

Bruce will drown you in gifts. Because Batman takes up so much time (and it was lack of attention that drove you away in the first place) he’ll try every means at demonstrating his love. Gifts, vacation homes, front row seats to events (with strict supervision).

This version of Bruce would keep you under 50 cameras and a body guard at all times, but he’s also very conscious of your mental health. Where he’d be able to guiltlessly lock you up forever if he hasn’t neglected you, he can’t in this timeline. Your life would be heavily supervised, but you’d also get a lot of perks.

He would make a routine with you.

Every morning, he’d eat breakfast with you, and every Friday would be a special dinner with just the two of you. His hours are valuable so it means a lot for him to carve out the time just for you.

Dick Grayson

Dick prides himself on his strong leadership and generosity. Ask anyone whose ever met Dick to describe him, and they could list pages of positive traits. So it's a wonder how you, his precious little darling, managed to be overlooked by him.

Guilt literally eats him alive. Dick begins to second-guess every interaction with you, going over all clues he might have missed. He throws himself into the investigation looking for you, investigating every single fact you've ever mentioned about yourself.

When you finally return, he's dead-set on making up for lost time.

Dick wouldn’t approve of your reasoning for leaving. You should have told him--should have insisted on being heard--instead of leaving. He feels terrible that you were neglected, but he feels worse knowing that you’d rather be thrown to the wolves than seek their help.

It's a steep learning curve for him to realize you're not the lonely child you once were, but instead a bitter, jaded young adult who confides in only themself.

Dick drowns you in attention. He tries forcing your innocence back, not accepting your refusals and anger. You're still so young, and even if the sparkling child-like hope is missing from your eyes, Dick still believes he can make things right.

Family bonding time is a must. He arranges play-time with you and Damian. He insists on Sunday movie nights. He learns how to cook new dishes with you and Alfred. He will keep you busy.

These activities are only a surface solution for a deeper problem. Fundamentally, you've changed, and Dick knows this. He has no idea how to treat you now, so he resorts to what he does know--your childhood he missed out on.

Jason Todd

Jason is particularly torn. He knows what its like to feel abandoned, yet he realized too late that he was the perpetrator.

When you are finally back in the arms of the Batfamily, Jason has no idea what role to take in your life. He sees you turning down the family when they offer love and he doesn't know if his heart could take your rejection.

Jason is stand-offish. Playing the role of "tough older brother" doesn't bode well, so he needs time to rework his philosophy on handling siblings.

Instead, he does your bidding. He would help fix whatever unprecedented reasons that led you to return to Gotham, no questions asked. If you need to pass a letter on to a friend, Jason is your guy. His regular possessive yandere tendencies are hampered by his guilt, so he'll be very lenient with you as long as it's nothing dangerous.

The fact that you escape and survived by yourself cast you into a new light in Jason’s eyes. He thinks you’re impressive, dependable, capable. He wonders how he didn’t see it sooner.

That being said—you’re his little sibling. You shouldn’t have to be so strong, and Jason wants to ensure you’ll never have another reason to protect yourself.

He hopes that over time, you'll trust him. He wants to be able to sit with you and talk about whatever is on your mind, to be able to hug you as he leaves for work, and to send you off to bed when it's late.

But right now, you need space. He'll let you heal, and he'll take whatever anger you give him. Because he knows that this is the only way you'll let him into your life again.

Bonus: Y/N

Considering Y/N was clever enough to escape the Waynes while also having the willpower to return to Gotham shows that they’re intelligent, good-hearted, and forged from steel.

They probably rank somewhere between lawful-good to chaotic-neutral. (A lawful-neutral would be infuriated by the Waynes’ underhanded tactics, and probably wouldn’t return to Gotham.)

Y/N is done yearning for attention (or, if they were originally kidnapped, done with playing nice), so they’re immune to the Batfam’s manipulation.

Upon first glance at the Batfam after all those years, they’d immediately go fight or flight. Y/N would pull every dirty trick in the book to escape, and would be as hateful as possible to kill any affection they have for them.

After being kidnapped, Y/N gets very good at playing mind games and deflecting their submission tactics. They’d be able to manipulate the household like a giant game of chess.

Y/N’s only weakness is the child inside of them that still cries for their family’s approval.

The conflict revolves around how the Batfam can extort this weakness vs. how well Y/N can stay true to their values.

#batfam x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere batman #yandere bruce waybe #dick grayson x reader #platonic yandere batman #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

Note

hey hi hello, i was wondering if you knew this... what exactly do my ao3 subscribers get notified of? like, if i edit a chapter that is already public, do they get a notification email? or when i change the tags on a story? i just noticed that i sometimes get mysterious emails from authors im subscribed to about stories that have been up a long while. and i thought it could be because they edited them or something...? would be grateful if you had any answers! much love

There are 3 types of subscriptions on AO3:

fic subscription

series subscription

author subscription

Fic subscriptions send out an email to subscribers any time the fic gets a new chapter added to it.

Series subscriptions send out an email any time that series gets a new work added to it, as well as any time any work in the series gets a new chapter added to it.

Author subscriptions send out an email any time an author creates a new work or adds a chapter to any existing work. If the work is part of an unrevealed collection, the subscription email won't be sent out until the collection is set to revealed.

One other time that you might receive an email as a subscriber is if the author originally posted a work into an anonymous collection and later removed the work from that collection. This is probably the situation that you noticed happening.

No emails get sent for edits.

#asks and answers #how to ao3

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adorerry · 9 months

Text

A bouquet a day keeps the sadness away. | H.S

Pairing: boyf!harry styles x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: you have been feeling a bit down recently so harry decides to add a special something into his daily routine in hopes to make you feel better

Warnings: tiny mention of depression at the start, PURE FLUFF! (p.s I literally know nothing about flowers, so hashtag don’t hate the flowers I chose pls xx)

a/n: stay til the end for a surprise ;) if you would like to be added to my tag list please pop me a message in dm's or in my requests/talk to me box :*

With seasonal depression just around the corner, your moods have swooped down a load recently. Instead of going for your daily runs and gym sessions with harry, you stayed in bed and binge watched Netflix all day, crying over the smallest things ever and overall having no motivation to do anything. Other people might think it's pathetic, but Harry had immediately noticed your change of moods and knew he had to do something about it straight away. Even on days when u felt at your very best, Harry still managed to slip the odd compliment and reassuring quote in just to make sure you knew how much you meant to him. That’s when harry got the bright idea of doing something small for you each day of the week just to remind you how much he loves you and how proud he is of you.

Monday.

You woke up, mind groggy, rolling over to feel an empty space where harry usually lays. Rubbing your drowsy eyes, you opened them to see Harry's side of the bed neatly tucked in, pillows perfectly fluffed up, no creases in the sheet. Everything was perfectly in place except for him. Where was he?

Groaning to yourself, you stretch your legs out of the bed and trapse along to the kitchen.

Your eyes rapidly tearing up at the scene in front of you. A huge bouquet of sunflowers with a note peeping out from the top.

“My sweet sweet angel. I'm sorry for not being there this morning when you woke up, but I had to rush to the studio. Duty calls... :( I hope you're feeling a bit better this morning, text me as soon as you finish reading this note. Let me know how you are! I got you these flowers as a reminder of all the happy times we have together. I did my research and apparently sunflowers represent happiness, and I'm hoping they make your happiness shine out. I’ll never fathom how you are mine; you are everything I ever hoped and dreamed of. Keep being your beautiful, pleasing self. Shouldn’t be too long... don't miss me too much. H x”

Tuesday.

Every Tuesday morning harry would go out for meetings with his team, so you weren’t really surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again. When he arrived back home yesterday, he smothered you in kisses and cuddles while insisting you guys ordered a takeout and had a movie night and that’s exactly what you did.

Pouring your milk, you heard the doorbell ring as you pranced over to the door not expecting any deliveries today. “Delivery for Mrs Styles?” The delivery man questioned. Your face immediately beginning to flush a red tone as you accepted the parcel. Mrs styles.. It has a nice ring to it you think to yourself as you open the box to yet again another bouquet of flowers with a note.

“Hello baby, hope you're having an amazing morning. I also hope you didn’t mind the delivery man calling u Mrs styles... I really need to make that official soon huh. I’ll be home a little later today, please take care of yourself throughout the day. Maybe go for a little walk to clear your head? Mum said she will meet you if you pop her a text, maybe go to the small café you like? My treat ;) Hope you like the roses. They symbolise love, and that’s exactly why I got them. I love you so much you never fail to fill the empty gaps in my heart. See you tonight lovie. H x”

Wednesday.

Yesterday afternoon you spent it with anne having a catchup, both of you agreeing to go out shopping today, and last night cuddled up with harry in bed chatting about life and how the team was treating him. Surprisingly on one of your only mornings waking up next to harry, you were the first to be awake and out the house. Due to his busy schedule, it was another late night at the studio for harry but you didn’t mind as you knew he was doing things he loved.

When you arrived back home you saw yet again another box waiting for you to open it and pick it up. Taking everything inside you let out a slight laugh as you opened the box to a huge bouquet of lavenders. Obviously, it wasn’t a bouquet without the famous note...

“I hope you're not sick of my flower sending yet :( Woke up this morning and you weren’t there, felt a little deflated that I couldn’t smother you in kisses to wake you up but mum text me saying she took you shopping which made me feel way better. It’s so lovely seeing the two people I care for the most bonding and spending time together, and that’s why I've sent you these beautiful lavenders. They symbolise peace and you may be wondering why I have sent you flowers for peace? I want your beautiful body and brain to give you a break from all the stressful thoughts wandering them. I hope today brought you so much peace and I can assure you the future will too... I love you my precious girl. H x”

Thursday.

Surprise surprise, another morning without harry. This morning he left for training day with brad. You really wish you were there to witness harry in training mode but instead you found yourself once again opening another bouquet of flowers.

“Hi lovie, this is a short one today. I'm sorry... This short note is worth it as tomorrow is unfortunately the last flower bouquet day. I know, I know I can hear your sobs from here but don’t worry darling it will all be worth it I just need you to trust me.. Which is why I got you freesia flowerers today. They symbolise trust and I'm needing you to trust me with everything you have. I’ll see you tomorrow, love you millions. H x”

Friday aka The last flower day.

You felt the bed dip as you made a lazy attempt to open your eyes as you felt the immediate kisses harry started planting all over your face.

“G’mornin’ lovie. Y’gonna wake up for me?” he questioned swiping the stray hairs away from your face and tucking them behind your ear.

“Mhm” you replied turning over and slowly dozing back to sleep as you felt harry pick you up taking you somewhere in the house.

It took harry 10 minutes to wake you up, once he was successful you looked at your surroundings to see you were in the living room.

“Got you a coffee anndddd your very last bouquet box” he said placing down both the coffee and box Infront of you

“You really didn’t have to do this for me H.. but I really appreciate it so thank you” you leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek as you turned back around eagerly opening the box to see what’s inside the last one.

You opened the box to the most gorgeous flowers you had ever seen but felt a pang in your heart when you didn’t see a note, harry noticed your frantic looks as he reached over and grabbed a handwritten note.

“I felt like a handwritten one is better for today's note, feels more personal?” he said with a slanted smile placed on his face. You began to read the note as you hear harry rustling around behind you.

“Good morning gorgeous... I felt like a handwritten note was the better option for today. A week today will be our 5-year anniversary. I can’t even begin to thank you for all the astonishing things you have done for me these past 5 years, I most definitely wouldn’t be here without you, you are my muse... So, thank you thank you thank you. I really hope you like my choice of today's flower’s, il explain to you what they symbolise in a second. You have showed me how to love and what true love feels like, and I will continue giving you everything I have until my very last day on earth. These flowers are my personal favourites... They are called calla lilies, and they symbolise marriage. I love you I love you I love you. So, what I'm trying to say is...”

“Y/n..” you turn around nearly giving yourself whiplash, seeing the love of your life on one knee your eyes start welling up as your hands automatically cover your mouth in shock. “Will you marry me?”

You desperately nod your head as your head finds the crook of his neck while your tears find a home in his t-shirt. Secretly harry let out a few tears too but he would never let you know that.

A/N again: Woweee if you made it this far hi! Thank you so much for reading this is my very first thing i've ever posted on this account, I'l do a small post soon introducing myself and what/who I write.

I DO NOT give consent to anyone reposting my writing and claiming it as theirs. I AM more than happy for you guys to reblog, add to reccomendation lists etc (this really helps especially as im a small account!). If you would like to translate any of my posts please message me before hand so we can chat about it!

I love you, stay safe, my messages are ALWAYS open dont be affraid to message me.. M x

#harry styles #harry styles love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #adorerry

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, rudeness to animals, Pocket and Tony committing adorable crimes.

Word Count: 364

Previously On...: Just another night at the strip club, until you met the one and only Tony Stark.

A/N: Super short section, which is why you're getting two today! Yay! Also, I don't remember if they had 24-hour Walmarts in 2002 yet or not, so don't come for me. Let's just say Earth-518 absolutely did. Please enjoy the use of printed directions off of MapQuest. That was a fun mental flashback -_-

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

Twenty minutes later, you and Tony were pulling out of the parking lot of a 24-hour Walmart, a pair of garden shears in the back of Tony’s Audi A8 and directions to the nearest sheep farm that you’d printed out from MapQuest in the club’s office in your hand.

You had changed into an oversized MIT hoodie and pair of ultra low-rise bootcut jeans before leaving the club, and you were grateful, as the pre-dawn air was cool. You’d been driving for over an hour and a half and were nearly at your destination.

“Okay, make a left right here,” you told Tony, pointing toward a lonely dirt road. The Audi bumped along until you smacked Tony on the arm. “There!” you shouted. There was just enough light from the car’s headlights to make out a clump of shadows meandering near the fenceline. “The sheep!”

Tony put the car in park and got out. “Let’s do this,” he exclaimed, grinning like a lunatic as he got the shears from the backseat. Cautiously, the two of you climbed between the wires of the fence keeping the sheep from the road, Tony using his suit jacket to prevent the barbs from catching on you.

“Ok, now what?” he asked once the two of you had made it into the sheeps’ pasture.

“Now,” you said, rubbing your hands together with glee, “we catch ourselves a sheep!”

It was much easier said than done, and before you knew it, the two of you were running around like madmen, trying to corral just one sheep into position so you could grab it. But the little rectangle-eyed bastards were on to you, and they weren’t giving up without a fight. Soon, you were both in fits of laughter after the third or fourth time one of you fell into the mud.

You were having so much fun that you didn’t realize you weren’t alone, until a bright spotlight was upon you. “Hold it right there,” a gruff voice shouted.

You and Tony immediately froze and threw your hands in the air at the sound of a gun’s safety coming undone. “Don’t move,” said the voice behind the spotlight. “The police are on their way.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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jishyucks · 8 months

Text

When the Stars Align — njm

‣ pairing: guard!Jaemin x princess!reader

‣ genre: fluff, royal!au, friends-to-lovers

‣ wc: 2.2k

‣ summary: ❝The stars may seem unreachable, but they have a way of surprising us sometimes❞; In which Jaemin believes that his wish on the stars is absurd

‣ warnings?: nothing basically, long paragraphs near the end

‣ an: the two songs goodbye. I wasn’t going to add songs but I’ll just keep them there,, anywaysss I wrote this really quick bc I wanted to post something so it might not be my best,, but I honestly still think it’s cute (●'◡'●) also pls ignore the whack title pic for this I might change it later,,, pls enjoy!

‣ tags: @mosviqu @flowerjun

[Songs] A Starry Night in Apollo Bay — RINI | I See the Light — Tangled

Every night that Jaemin was on duty, he always made a single wish upon both the stars that continued to twinkle and those that had long faded away.

His wish wasn’t special, nor was it ordinary—he simply wished for there to be a shift in the stars, one that only he could recognize.

It started out as a joke he made to himself, a way to alleviate the monotony of gazing at the same sky night after night. Sure, the sky was undeniably beautiful, but when he initially made the wish, he was hoping he’d see something different, like a planet with more prominence, maybe a shooting star, or perhaps even a supermoon.

However, everything changed when he met you by chance one evening. His wish took on a different significance—that maybe the stars would align themselves in such a way that your feelings would mirror his own.

If that was even possible, Jaemin scoffed at his own thought. He was nothing but a guard. A junior guard at that. Why would someone like you, the princess, consider him in that way when you had your pick of suitors at your beck and call?

The corners of Jaemin’s mouth turn downward at the thought. It wasn’t the hardest thought to swallow, but it still hurt nonetheless. These were his own emotions, ones that he shouldn’t have even developed in the first place. Yet here he was, wallowing in the fact that you might only see him as a friend.

As he let his head fall back, Jaemin gazed up at the night sky he had practically befriended. The constellations were like old friends, ones he knew almost as well as he knew himself.

It was peaceful outside of the castle. In fact, it was so peaceful that he almost forgot that there were people inside of the building celebrating the Queen’s birthday. If he listened carefully, he could hear the music being played. But other than that, it truly doesn’t seem like a party was happening at all.

With his eyes closed, Jaemin readied himself to make the same wish he had been making for the past year, clearing his mind until only the wish and thoughts of you occupied it.

I wish that—

“Are you sleeping standing up?”

Jaemin’s wish is interrupted by the sound of your voice. He turns to find you, standing in the dress you personally chose for the occasion. He remembers you going on about it a few weeks ago, stuck choosing between dark and pastels.

The word beautiful was the first thing that entered Jaemin’s mind. You looked beautiful. So beautiful that you made Jaemin’s breath hitch at the back of his throat. But he quickly rids that thought.

“Y/N,” he counters, “What are you doing out here?”

Jaemin hopes you don’t hear the way his heart is pounding against his rib cage. And if you do, he hopes you mistake it for the music playing inside.

“I wanted to get some air,” you shrug nonchalantly, “And I wanted to see you.” You find a nice clean spot on the steps leading down and onto the long driveway before sitting down. You turn to Jaemin expectantly, but when he doesn’t quite get your signal, you gesture for him to join you, “Come sit.”

“I can’t,” Jaemin frowns, “I’m on duty.”

You mirror his expression, but you add furrowed brows, “This is an order.”

Jaemin huffs. Despite it being his job to serve your family, he hates it when you use your position to coax him into situations like this. He hesitantly makes his way over to you. Sitting down just a few inches away from you. He's unsure of how to position himself, his body sitting up stiff and straight beside yours.

Turning to look at Jaemin and seeing the way he’s quite literally sitting like he has a stick shoved up his ass, you can’t help but laugh. Shuffling over, you elbow him on the side, “Hey, relax a little bit.”

He lets out another deep sigh, but he nods and allows himself to drop his shoulders. Jaemin honestly had no idea why he was being so self-conscious right now. He wasn’t usually like this. But maybe it was because you basically caught him making a wish that was about you.

Jaemin tries to shake the nerves out of his system. “It’s the Queen’s birthday, you should be inside.”

Your face contorts into an unreadable expression. You shake your head and groan, “As much as I love my mom, I hate being surrounded by all those people.”

“Those people?” Jaemin prompts.

“The wealthy, the royals, the people who hold titles they don’t deserve,” you list under your breath. Jaemin hums, “Aren’t you royalty?”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, but I’m not insane like a majority of them, and you of all people should know that.” You straighten your legs so that they’re stretched out in front of you. Jaemin does the same.

“Fair point.” Jaemin completely understands. From the conversations he’s overheard, the Queen strongly dislikes half the people she even invited, but had no choice due to their title, “But you really would rather be out here than in there?”

Jaemin knows damn well that you’re an extrovert and somebody who actually likes big celebrations like the one happening today.

You nod, “You’re out here so… yes.”

Jaemin tries to pay no mind to what you just said because he knows there’s absolutely no way that there’s any other meaning to it. Obviously you’d be bored without him… you two were each other’s best friend. Jaemin can only imagine having to attend a big party without a friend.

“What?” A stupid response, but Jaemin genuinely did not know how to respond to that. He looks over at you in anticipation of a response. He can see your eyes moving back and forth, trying to dig out a reply that would make sense.

“I would… honestly want to be wherever you are, Jaemin-ie.” You reach over to poke his shoulder, “I can really be myself with you.” You try to make it sound not as serious as it actually was. This was basically a platonic confession, something that you’ve never told him before.

Jaemin’s still in denial that you actually prefer being with him. He doesn’t see himself as anything special, so why do you seem to genuinely like his company?

“But… you belong inside with all those people,” Jaemin starts, “Not because you’re similar to them, because like you said a lot of them are snobs… but… you’re a princess, Y/N. You’re next in line to rule this place! And… ”

You know where he’s trying to get at despite his lack of words. “Who’s to say where I belong besides me… I like it out here!” you declare confidently. Then you pause and tap your heels against the pavement beneath your feet, “What if I belong out here, and with you?”

The question hangs in the air and Jaemin can’t quite piece together what you’re implying. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, “Y-you’re just saying nonsense at this point… Are you drunk?” Jaemin leans over to look you in the eye as if this would confirm his suspicions.

You laugh, pushing him away, and confess, “I’m a little tipsy. But! But I’m sober enough to know what I’m saying.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes. “Yeah, sure you are.”

And your eyes do the opposite, widening until your eyeballs are bulging out of their sockets, “I am!” You gently hit his shoulder, “I’m sober! I barely drank. Did I seem drunk when I came out?”

Pressing his lips into a taut line, Jaemin thinks of a way to prove that what you were saying was because you were intoxicated. He can’t process your last question—and with you?—what was that supposed to mean?

“Walk in a straight line for me right now.”

Knowing that Jaemin’s not going to stop until you prove that you’re sober, you groan and stand up, making your way to the edge of a stair. You prepare yourself, lining your feet one in front of the other and hiking up the skirt of your dress to make them visible to Jaemin. With ease, you walk in the straightest line you’ve ever walked, “See? I’m sober.”

Jaemin has no other choice but to believe you, “But what about—”

“Are you not listening to me?” you huff, cutting Jaemin off before he can complete his sentence. You can already anticipate what he's about to say. “I can’t stand any of them!” You make your way back to Jaemin and settle down in your previous spot. He observes your actions, waiting for you to provide more context before he can respond.

“You know… that feeling when you’ve been underwater for too long? The pressure building up in your head?”

Jaemin nods, “Yes.”

“Well…” you continue, “Being with you is like… finally being able to float back up to the surface to breathe.” Then you add, “I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive without you, Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s heart is knocking against his ribcage. Are you saying…

“Would it be ridiculous if I said I have feelings for you?”

Jaemin’s afraid to turn and look at you. He can feel your heavy gaze resting comfortably on his cheekbone. Your eyes trace his side profile, and he can sense the tension building in the silence as you wait for his response to your impulsive confession. Your palms grow sweaty while you wait for his answer to your impulsive confession.

“Me?” Another stupid response.

“You.”

Jaemin shakes his head, clearly in disbelief. “But—”

"Jaemin," you stop him, frustration creeping into your tone, "Are you going to keep questioning my feelings instead of giving me a real reply?" Your impatience is evident, and you're looking for a genuine response from him.

Jaemin picks at his cuticles and lets himself word his reply properly. You give him time, but the more time Jaemin spends on formulating an answer, the greater your anxiety grows. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Jaemin. What if your impulsiveness did just that?

After what felt like forever, Jaemin finally speaks up, “On nights like these, I talk to the moon about you to pass time…” Jaemin keeps his eyes trained at his feet, his voice filled with vulnerability. “And to the stars… I’ve been… wishing on every single one of them… that maybe you’d like me back simply because it seemed so impossible.” He swallows hard before finally turning to look at you, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Do you know why I thought that?"

You shake your head.

"Y/N, you can have anyone, and I'm not even exaggerating!" He exclaims, "The number of suitors I've seen prance into the castle, all hoping to win your hand in marriage or even just one date down in the city? It's countless… And imagine my thoughts when you rejected all of them. I believed I had no chance with you because you rejected all these men that seemed to suit you perfectly…”

His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of his emotions. Jaemin continues, “When I started developing these feelings for you, I told myself to never get my hopes up because I’m just one junior guard and you’re a princess…” Jaemin sucks air through pursed lips and lets his head fall forward.

“That’s why I keep questioning your feelings, Y/N,” He concludes, “I know I shouldn’t even be doing so because you’re your own person, but it’s so hard for me to believe this is real. That your feelings are real…” With one final look at you, Jaemin finally gives you his response, “So to answer your question—yes, it’s ridiculous, but it’s ridiculous to me and not in the way you think it is.”

You nod, his answer bittersweet, “It’s like the stars you’ve been wishing on.”

Jaemin’s ears perk up, “Hmm?”

“They may seem unreachable, but they have a way of surprising us sometimes,” you snort. You let your head fall back to gaze up at the stars, the brighter ones catching your attention. "Jaemin," you continue, your voice filled with sincerity, "I really do like you. I want you to know that."

Jaemin's heart races at your words, his entire body warming with reassurance and anticipation. Acting on impulse, he gently reaches over to hold your hand. It’s not the first time he’s held your hand, but this time feels different. “I… really like you too, princess.” Your hand tightens around his, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the night air engulf the both of you.

As Jaemin tilts his chin up for the second time tonight, his eyes finally catch a proper sight of the constellations he’s wished upon for who knows how long. He can name a few—the Dippers, and if he looks off to the side he can see Orion and Taurus.

All of it feels achingly familiar to Jaemin... yet tonight, there was something about the sky that set it apart from the others. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, nor if a change truly had occurred—he can just feel it.

But with your hand nestled in his, and your synchronizing heartbeats, Jaemin honestly couldn’t care less what the change was.

Because, somehow, it feels as if the heavens have shifted.

As if the stars have granted his wishes.

That you reciprocated his feelings.

And, at this moment, that's all that truly mattered to him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Thank you for reading!! (^ᗜ^ ) Pls support my writing by liking/rbing (whatever you're most comfortable with!) Hope this made u feel something hehehehe

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triasticalwarlock · 23 days

Text

Things I predict in blood lust/Headcanons:

When everyone is fighting against the Angels, the gang will make y/n remain in the hotel. Not wanting them to get hurt (or taken)

Once Adam realizes where you are, he will go inside the hotel without anyone noticing.

Y/n will meet Adam in the first episode, since in the first special chapter, the summary says that this takes place before the court room episode but y/n has all ready meet all the characters.

I have a feeling that Adam will still die, but he'll come back as a sinner.

And it's only after Adam is a resident at the hotel that the gang will meet y/n's dad. Since he is no doubt in hell.

Adam will make frequent trips down to hell to chill with y/n. Often just cuddling while doing movie marathons (he brings all the snacks, it's the best you ever tasted). And he'll obviously try to get in your pants.

Lucifer will probably follow y/n everywhere, idk, I just think he would.

You know the meme where there's two people fighting in the background but when their friend looks over at them they aren't anymore? That's Lucifer and alastor.

Y/n will see their mother again in heaven at some point.

So, there are warnings in the tags for breeding kinks right? Adam and Lucifer (maybe alastor???).Change my mind

Adam has to look all the way down just to see you, he also picks you up like a wet dog.

All characters will play with your ears.

I see Lucifer and Adam playing with your wings as well. Just lightly folding and opening them. They find how different your wings are in comparison to theirs interesting.

Adam, lute, and Lucifer like giving you some of their feathers.

Adam likes to feed you ribs.

Lucifer will bitch slap anyone who so much happens to look at you wrong.

You are literally so small in comparison to Adam (I mean, you are the second smallest. Beaten by nifty) you literally fit in this dude's hand. He could throw you like a fucking ball, and yell, 'kobi!'

As much as Lucifer loves his tall woman, he also loves the short ones. He loves the way he can just curl up behind you and completely embrace you. You're like a puzzle piece!

You will more than likely go up to heaven with vaggie and Charlie, this one is just another feeling thing.

If you're up in heaven and someone shit talks you? Then Adam and lute are going to make sure that 1, they're going to have therapy for the rest of their life(lives). And 2, beat the shit out of them.

Adam will absolutely play the guitar to you, maybe sing as well. He'll want you to sing along with him.

Adam will beg, BEG, for you to let him give you a collar. With it having the same big A on his robe, spikes, and being white and gold. He'll might add a little, 'adams bat, fuck off'.

Angel will absolutely dress you up, little dresses and suits regardless of gender or sex.

Lucifer will shapeshift into a bat to be one with you, he'll like to fly around you while your doing things.

Will add later!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #blood lust by babygrillbree #blood lust on ao3 #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dusk #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvettle

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hehehehe… Okay, you said it would be cool to send in another request, and after the Jesse fic which was absolutely fluffy and squeal worthy, I’m sending in another.

White Tulip and Yellow Orchid

You break up with Fox, and it’s taking a toll on the both of you. It was hard enough when you found out Fox cheated, but somehow it’s even harder not being around each other in a relationship.

I don’t know something along those lines; maybe realizing they are better suited as friends with th hope for more or maybe Fox realizing you deserve better… I’m just spitballing. Anyhew … love oo

Regrets

Summary: You break up with Fox, and both of you are suffering for it.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 1724

Prompts: White tulip - new beginnings, Yellow Orchid - Forgiveness

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I ended up having to change some things from your request to make it something that I'm able to write. Turns out cheating is an unforgivable hardline for me, which is good to know about myself. So I ended up completely dumping that plot idea for something else. I hope you don't mind.

You don’t look up when the chair across from you slides away from the table. You already have a good idea of who’s going to be sitting there.

“Are you here to yell at me too, Commander?” You ask as you pour some more sugar into your caf, take a sip, grimace, and then add even more sugar. It already tastes like caf flavored sugar, but you need the extra energy. Even if it’s cheap energy.

“Buy me a Caf,” Commander Wolffe says, his dark eyes serious as he looks at you, “And something to eat. We need to talk.”

You lift your gaze and scowl at him, but you pull out your credit chit and set it in his hand, “Order what you like, I suppose.”

Wolffe nods and heads to the counter, only to return several minutes later with a large caf and a breakfast sandwich. He hands you your credit chit back as he takes a seat.

You shift and rest your chin on the palm of your hands, “Alright. Lay it on me.”

Wolffe arches a brow, “You expecting something from me?”

“Thorn, Thire, and Stone have already come to yell at me, and they’re not Fox’s twin. You are. So,” you gesture vaguely, “Go ahead. Start yelling.”

“I’m not going to yell at you, sen’ika.” Wolffe says quietly.

“Well, that’s a first.” You mutter.

“I don’t kick people when they’re down.” He continues, his sharp eyes lingering on the dark circles under your eyes, and the sheer amount of sugar you’re adding to your caf. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Meh.”

“Sen’ika,” He says slowly, quietly, “You’re clearly miserable-”

“I’m fine.” You interrupt.

“You’re not.” There’s a firmness in his voice that stops you from arguing back. “When was the last time you went home?”

“Last night.”

“And slept more than an hour or two?” He asks with a pointed look.

You look away from him, “It’s…not important.”

“Sen’ika,” His voice is so gentle, “Why did you break up with Fox?”

Your hands fold into fists, “Maybe I was cheating on him. Maybe I wasn’t happy.”

“You might be able to pull the shit with other people,” Wolffe says quietly, “But I saw how happy you and Fox were together. And I know you would never cheat on him. So try again.”

You press your lips into a thin line. “I…I refuse to be another burden on him.” You admit quietly.

“Elaborate.”

“You don’t see him after work, Wolffe. He’s so tired. All of the time and some of the bruises and scars…” You trail off, “He was happy with me, yes, but having to hide me from everyone? For my own protection? It was wearing him down. And I can’t, won’t, do that to him.”

“He’s miserable.”

“I know.”

“You’re miserable.”

“I know.”

Wolffe is quiet for a moment, “Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?”

“I will not let him kill himself for me.” You say quietly, “And if that means that I’m on the shitlist for every single member of the guard…then so be it.”

Wolffe doesn’t say anything for a long time, and then he sighs, “I’ll talk to the guard. Tell them to lay off.” He stands and drops a light kiss to the top of your head, “Fox loves you,” He says quietly, “He’s never going to stop loving you. You should at least give him a choice.”

“He’d pick-”

“You. Always you. And we both know it.” He pulls away, “Just think about it, alright? Thanks for the food.” And then Wolffe is gone.

You cast your gaze back to your caf, sigh, and add some more sugar.

Even if you want to talk to Fox, it’ll never happen. Thorn made that plenty clear the other day. And then Thire made it clear later when he came to yell at you on your way home.

You sigh at your caf, and then you pick it up and down half of it, before you make a face.

Gross.

About a week later, you’re at home, trying to clean up the mess that your house has turned into since you haven’t had energy, or frankly, the will to keep up with it.

According to everything you’ve ever read in your life, time is supposed to heal all wounds, but you’re starting to wonder if that was just something that people said to give themselves hope.

Because you aren’t healing.

In fact, you feel worse than ever.

Bad enough that you’re starting to wonder if you’re actually sick, because a broken heart (a self-inflicted broken heart even) shouldn’t hurt this much, right?

You’re so involved in your cleaning that you don’t hear the knock on the door at first. It’s not until the doorbell rings, startling you bad enough that your vacuum falls from your hands, that you realize you have company.

You look at the mess that is your home and sigh. Maybe they won’t want to come inside?

Carefully, because you had the genius idea of dumping everything you own in the middle of the living room so you can organize it properly, you step over the piles of stuff to get to the door.

You press the door control to open the door, “Yes? Can I hel-” You stop mid-sentence when you see who’s standing there. “...Fox. Um…I mean, Commander.”

He looks…pissed.

“Let me in.” He bites out.

“We’re not dating anymore, Commander. You can’t order your way into my home.” You offer as you avert your gaze from his face. More than just angry, he looks tired. About as tired as you feel, really.

You hear him exhale sharply, “You’re wearing my shirt, cyare.” Even his voice is tight with anger, “Let me in.”

You glance down at the shirt, his shirt, that you are wearing, and you silently move to the side. “...sorry about the mess.”

“What mes-” He stops as soon as he steps into your apartment, and his jaw drops, “Holy kriff, did a bomb go off in your living room?”

You fold your arms, “I’m deep cleaning.”

“By making a bigger mess?”

“I have a system.”

“Is it working?”

You scowl at him, “I’ll let you know.”

He glances at you, and his lips twitch up into a small smile, before he looks away, as if suddenly remembering that he’s supposed to be angry at you. You avert your eyes as well, it’s easy, far too easy, to fall back into easy bantering with Fox.

You broke up with him.

You told him that you weren’t happy anymore.

You have no right to his time or his smiles.

“I had a chat with Wolffe.”

Oh.

“He told me something interesting.”

Kriff. You should have sworn Wolffe to secrecy.

“You broke up with me because you wanted to protect me?” There’s a strange mix of emotions in his voice. Anger, yes. There’s a lot of anger. But there’s also hurt, and something you recognize as affection.

“Wolffe is a kriffing snitch,” You mutter.

“Yeah, well. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to confide in my twin,” Fox points out, “And then he wouldn’t have snitched on you.”

You purse your lips, “See if I ever buy him breakfast again.”

“He came to stop the Guard from harassing you,” Fox says, “I didn’t know that they were harassing you.”

“It’s…fine. I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

You sigh and turn your gaze to him, “Why are you here, Fox?”

“Because I love you.”

“That’s-”

He presses a finger against your lips, “Stop and listen.” Fox waits a moment, and as soon as he realizes that you’re going to do as he asks, he adjusts his hand so that his thumb is brushing against your lips. “I love you and I’m not going to give up on us simply because you think you’re a burden.”

“I am a burden. I saw how exhausted you were-”

“I’m more exhausted now.” Fox counters sharply. “Because I’m still trying to keep you safe, only now I have to do it in secret!”

“I never asked-” You start.

“You never had to. It’s what you do when you love something.”

“Fox-”

“I know you think that you’re a burden to me. And I know I’m so tired all of the time, and I know you worry about me all of the time.” Fox says, “But I love you. And you don’t get to decide what’s best for me. Only I get to choose that, and you’re what’s best for me.”

“Fox-,” You repeat his name, feeling tears pricking your eyes.

“I’m happier when I’m with you. You give me a reason to want to wake up in the morning.”

“I hurt you.”

“And I forgive you.”

“Just like that? You were so angry-”

“Of course I was! You broke up with me after deciding what was best for me! I’m pissed about it!” Fox bites out, “But I still love you and I’m willing to accept the fact that you did this because you were worried about me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” Fox repeats, he searches your face, and apparently finds what he’s looking for there, “Cyare, do you still love me?”

“...of course I do.”

“Be my girlfriend again?” Fox asks, “Please. We can start over if you really think we have to. I just…let me be a part of your life. I need you in my life.”

You sigh, softly. How could you say no to that? To him?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be your girlfriend again.”

“Oh thank kriff,” Fox blurts as he presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, “Can we take a kriffing nap, I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks.”

You glance at the pile of stuff on the floor of the living room, and then turn your guilty gaze on Fox, “I think my comforter is in the mess.”

Fox glances at the pile of stuff, and then shakes his head, “No matter.” He carefully scoops you into his arms and steps over the stuff, before he heads into the bedroom and drops you on the bed, before he curls up against you, “Sleep first, everything else later.”

You tuck your head against his chest, and he folds himself around you. And you’re both asleep in a matter of moments.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

Note

ello ello ello!

i am looking for fics where, human or not, crowley and azi grow up being together being friends and turns to lovers ! thank you for your blessed job <3

Hi! We have #childhood friends and #friends to lovers tags, so check those out. Here are some to add to the collections...

Stronger Than Hurt by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Everything changed the summer that Crowley fell off the Eastgate's garage roof and broke his arm. Fourteen years later he stood outside a tattoo shop with a picture of the drawing Aziraphale Eastgate had done on his cast, and hoped for a second chance.

Christmas light by Tigerphoenix (T)

After years of neither hearing form his father nor sibling Crowley is convinced to return to his childhood home. He knew from the start it wasn’t a good idea, but he did it anyway. Maybe something good comes out of it. Aziraphale returns home to his family home every year for Christmas. But Christmas with nine people is exhausting. Nothing wrong with some time alone, right?

I scorn to change my state with kings by bearwonder (T)

They’d seem an unlikely pair, if anyone saw them from the outside — Crowley in black skinny jeans and Aziraphale in beige corduroys — but no one does, and that’s just how they want it. Crowley and Aziraphale meet in kindergarten. This is the story of their lives.

What About Hope? by AppleSeeds (M)

Crowley met Aziraphale in the spring of 1989 while he was on his lunchbreak from the factory, his attention immediately drawn to the posh boy sitting by the canal writing poetry. It was immediately obvious that they came from entirely different worlds, but the time they spent together was the happiest Crowley had ever known. With Aziraphale, Crowley experienced many firsts - his first kiss, his first love... his first heartbreak. Twenty years later, they are reunited when Crowley, now a successful writer and vlogger, comes to work as an Associate Lecturer in the university department where Aziraphale is an academic. Seeing Crowley brings back Aziraphale's intense regret for allowing himself to be persuaded to leave him behind all those years ago. Aziraphale desperately wishes to renew their acquaintance, but Crowley seems determined to keep his distance. Aziraphale can't blame him for not forgiving him, since he has never been able to forgive himself, but when Crowley begins to spend more time with him, Aziraphale is left with the hope that maybe they could at least be friends again - no matter how much it might hurt.

And a Silver Sixpence in His Shoe by smolalienbee (T)

If there is one thing to be said about Aziraphale Z. Fell is that he leads an ordinary, quiet life. He lives in Soho, London, above an old bookshop that he’s been fortunate enough to inherit in his late twenties. He likes sushi and good wine. He has a few friends - like Nina, who works at the coffee shop across the street; or Maggie, who runs the record store that he takes an absolute pleasure in frequently purchasing from. (He’s lonely. Terribly so. He’s been lonely for about ten years now, since - he does not want to think about that.) Today is his 35th birthday. At age 15, Aziraphale made a Promise. At age 25, he had an Earth-shattering fight with his childhood - and closest - friend. At age 35, that same friend shows up at his doorstep and suddenly, Aziraphale’s entire world is thrown upside down. A story of something unexpected, something old, something yellow, something stolen, something new and something promised. (It’s going to be a long week.)

Dancing in the Dark by Demonicputto (T)

In search of inspiration for his next album, rock musician Tony Jay is headed to London. It's not the atmosphere he's after, but a reunion with Ezra Fell, his dearest friend from childhood. A one sided, adolescent crush fueled Tony's first songs and, now that they're both older, he's hoping those feelings might finally be requited. But, Ezra may not be ready for that. In his eyes, their relationship is far more complicated. Unlike Tony, he remembers who they truly are: the demon Crowley and the angel Aziraphale.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #childhood friends #friends to lovers #mod d

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

Text

{2} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 9,538

Warnings: Very suggestive content, mentions of past trauma and PTSD. Minor anxiety. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I love when things all start to fall into place! Finally, I have a solid outline of the next few chapters ehehehe I'm super excited for you all to see what I have planned, and I greatly hope you’ll all look forward to the upcoming chapters. I have a feeling a few things might shock you hehehe anyways, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One

“I still can’t believe that this has been underneath the house this entire time,” your voice, full of awe and wonder, echoes around the area. Again, your eyes are quick to take in every detail surrounding you just like the first time you entered their training space.

The room stretches on before you, more like a mini arena than anything. A light blue lines the walls, almost steel in colour, giving them a sort of metallic sheen as the florescent lights illuminate the space. A throwing range is off to the side, wooden targets well worn lining the scraped up walls. There’s even a large sparring area, complete with mirrors to the side to observe yourself while fighting for any openings you might leave yourself vulnerable to.

To the left, gym equipment resides. Anything and everything you can think of lines the space, making you feel as if you’re in some weird simulation of The Hunger Games. The training facility, if you can even call it that, has nearly all of the exact same things, up to and including a separate space where you can run types of simulations to practice what you’ve learned.

“We didn’t want to scare you,” Mingi shrugs, sitting off to the side as both San and Jongho grab some equipment to begin preparing for your training.

“That still doesn’t explain why you waited this long to tell me,” you chuckle. “Even after I expressed how cool I find your abilities, both physical and metaphysical.”

“To be fair, Dearest,” Yeosang sits right beside Mingi, the two of them watching on carefully. “The progress we had been making with you could have been changed or lost at any point. We simply didn’t want to do something to jeopardize that.”

You hum in acknowledgement, moving over to the sparring mats alongside both San and Jongho. A moment later, and you begin doing some stretches.

Just as you straighten yourself into a standing position once more, you hear a loud crashing sound coming from behind you.

“Oh, please tell me I haven’t missed it yet,” Wooyoung comes rushing into the room, practically tripping over himself and the equipment scattered throughout.

“Didn’t realize I’d have a peanut gallery,” you mumble, hearing Jongho chuckle from beside you.

“Think of them as extra observers to give you pointers that we may miss.” San comments, a subtle grin tugging at his lips as he begins stretching alongside you.

“Translation: they just want to have an excuse to look at my ass while I stretch.” You reply, amusement shining behind your eyes.

Mingi’s brows raise in amusement, Wooyoung grinning suggestively at you as he takes a seat on the floor in front of his brothers. At least Yeosang has the decency to avoid your gaze, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters out a response.

“It’s okay, boys,” you chuckle. “The feeling is mutual.”

Wooyoung immediately bursts out laughing, especially when he turns his head to see both Yeosang and Mingi looking completely shocked behind him.

“Perks of being a visual learner,” you add, sitting on the ground to begin stretching out both your back and legs further.

“Wait, you mean you check us out while we’re working out, too?” Mingi is still attempting to wrap his head around your confession only moments before.

“You’ve really never noticed before?” San quirks a knowing brow at his brother.

“You try living with eight modern Adonis’, and you see how well you fare.” You comment, standing back to your feet as pleased growls reach your ears. Then, you’re turning to face the three males sitting to the side. “You’ve seriously never felt my gaze on you while I’m checking you out?”

“Why do you think I told you to start wearing compression shirts since you didn’t want to go topless?” San directs his comment towards Mingi, and your jaw drops.

“That was because of you?” Your voice is incredulous, eyes sparkling with awe as you watch him nod smugly. Your grin soon mirrors his own as you exhale a breath. “Fuck, I love you.”

A pleased growl escapes San’s lips as he absolutely revels in your gaze. The way the others shoot him small looks of either disbelief, or mild jealousy, is simply icing on the cake.

“Maybe we should all start working out shirtless,” Wooyoung hums, a smirk dancing on his features.

“Should we take it a step further and oil ourselves in the nude, too?” Jongho’s eyes gleam as he watches your reactions closely.

“Damn, I haven’t done that since the Olympics,” San hums, crossing his arms proudly over his chest.

The way you swallow thickly does not go unnoticed by any of them.

“So, the distractions have started already, I see,” you nod, almost absentmindedly.

“What seems to be on your mind, Starlight?” Mingi smirks, a knowing gleam shining within his eyes.

You lick your lips, the corner tugging upwards gently. “I think you already know, Moonlight.”

Five low growls echo around the room as a certain tension fills the air. That is, until that familiar gleam of curiosity flashes behind your eyes.

“So, did any of you compete in a circus?” You can hardly contain the excitement from bleeding into your voice as you look around at all of them.

“Hwa was always the best at chariot racing.” Yeosang hums, leaning back in his seat for the moment.

“Something tells me it was more than just being good with horses,” you chuckle, a small smile tugging on your features. “Though, it’s very fitting for some reason.”

“Well, he is the most competitive out of all of us.” San nods.

“And that’s saying something.” Mingi shoots a pointed look at Jongho who simply rolls his eyes in response.

“Jongho and San were excellent gladiators, too.” Wooyoung adds, nonchalantly. Though, with how his eyes gleam, you know his words are very calculated.

“I understand now why they’re the first ones teaching me hand to hand combat, then.” You nod, attempting to not appear as affected as you are for the moment.

“Yunho, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong all enjoyed wrestling a bit too much,” Jongho says, a chuckle falling from his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You nod, once more attempting to not allow your thoughts to consume you. Unfortunately, with their earlier comments about bathing themselves in oil, it’s quite difficult not to picture the aforementioned males rolling around and wrestling in the nude.

A tense smile pulls at your lips, blinking in the next second. Shaking your head, you attempt to clear your thoughts, grateful to have that void of yours up and running. Though, from the way they all look at you, eyes swirling with that all too familiar darkness, you can just tell they know perfectly well what you’re thinking about.

Clearing your throat, you manage to compose yourself a bit better, even if only slightly.

“Yeosang-“

“Archery,” you cut Mingi off as you turn to face the aforementioned male. “I remember.”

The soft smile that paints your lips has all four of his brothers turning to face him. A smile of which is mirrored on his own features as he recalls the conversation that he had with you that very night all those months ago where he got to hold you in his arms as you slept. Though, the morning afterwards, in his opinion, was even better. A memory he will cherish until the end of time. A memory he will never forget.

“Mingi was never really in to the Olympics like we were,” San states, and you watch how the aforementioned man sits a little straighter in his seat. “None of us could touch him on the water, though.”

“Naval battles?” You quirk a brow, noticing how red begins to creep over the tips of his ears. At his nod, you exhale a low breath. “Literally, could you guys get any more attractive?”

Again, five pleased growls meet your ears.

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest,” Yeosang hums, leaning further back into his seat.

“I always enjoy learning more about you,” you reply honestly, and you watch as they all visibly perk up from your words, giddy smiles settling onto each of their features. “Not to mention my little historian heart is practically leaping for joy right now.”

“Is it?” Jongho grins fondly as he meets your gaze. The way they can all hear your heart racing in excitement has a warmth flooding their veins the longer this conversation draws on. “We couldn’t tell.”

Playfully, you stick your tongue out at him.

“Honestly, we could spend weeks telling you all about whatever kinds of history you want to know.” San offers, and the way your eyes instantly light up has his heart fluttering inside of his chest.

“Really?” You fail to hide how hopeful you sound.

“Anything and everything you’d like, Starlight.” Mingi confirms, nodding once he sees he’s drawn your attention back onto him for the moment.

“We are more than happy to share it all with you, Angel.” Wooyoung smiles, propping his knee up so that he can rest his one arm over top of it. He gazes at you fondly, his entire being relaxing into this moment with you.

The way they all see you visibly begin to shake in excitement, bouncing up and down slightly in your spot as a brilliant smile takes over your features, begins to rub off on all of them. None can help the way nothing but love for you floods their veins, each male gazing upon you tenderly at how eager you seem to be. The wonder alone they see reflected in your eyes sets their hearts racing inside of their chests.

“I have so many questions,” you begin, unable to prevent yourself from pacing any longer.

The fact that you need to expel that energy has both Jongho and Mingi chuckling fondly.

“How about we save them for later, though.” San smiles at you, halting you in your tracks as his one hand comes up to gently grasp the side of your arm.

“Okay,” you nod eagerly. Then, your eyes flash as you meet his gaze. “Does this mean you’re all going to teach me the different fighting styles of different cultures through the ages?”

They all share a brief look between one another.

“Oh, come on! You can’t seriously be telling me that you were only going to teach me the very basics,” you tilt your head slightly as you cross your arms over your chest.

“We can teach you as much or as little as you’d like, Darling.” Jongho chuckles, gently guiding you onto the large sparring mat once more. “We just never expected you to be so enthusiastic about it.”

“I thought I told you that dismemberment wasn’t the only violent thought I can have.” You reply, a slight amused quirk to your brow. “You know I want to be as badass and intimidating as My Kings are.”

“But, how could we ever forget?” Wooyoung practically purrs out, a pleasant rumble escaping his chest that he knows is echoed lowly by each of his brothers.

“Okay,” San chuckles, moving to stand across from you on the mat. “We’ve already taught you the basics of self-defence, and you’ve started working to increase your stamina and strength. All that’s left are some simple fighting stances, and then the real fun begins.”

A look of determination washes over your features as you all become serious in the next moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho beginning to circle the mat, San explaining some basic footholds and arm blocks all the while. Of course, he’s quick to demonstrate each one, nodding in approval as he watches you copy each one.

“The most important part of your balance is your core,” he explains. “The quickest way to throw someone off their rhythm is to break through their own.”

“No matter what situation you find yourself in, there is always a way out.” Jongho adds. “Never let your enemy know they have the upper hand, unless you’re faking them out. In which case, you have to be sure you know what you’re doing.”

“We can discuss proper strategies another day,” San turns to look at his youngest brother as said male comes to stand right beside the elder. “Let’s just teach you some basic maneuvers to begin.”

Slowly, each of the two males goes through different fighting techniques. Their explanations are thorough, demonstrating the stances as often as you need them to. You pick them up pretty quickly, anyways, and by the time a few hours have passed, they all watch as you practice hitting a punching bag with a certain pride swirling within their eyes.

Taking a short break, you wipe at your brow. “You know, this would be so much easier if you guys could just like, I don’t know, Matrix teach me this stuff. That way I could practice more things on my own.”

Both San and Jongho share a look.

“Unfortunately, Gorgeous, it doesn’t work that way.” Wooyoung sighs, having shifted his position so he’s now laying on his side on the floor with his one arm propping his head up in his hand.

“Sharing those techniques mentally doesn’t necessarily give you the same experience as teaching them to you does.” Mingi comments, and you look towards where he sits. Only now, he’s leaning back slightly in his seat, his one foot resting on the edge of the chair so that his knee is bent.

“Fair enough,” you shrug. “Just a thought.”

“It might be good once you have more of the basics down.” There’s a slight furrow to Yeosang’s brows as he thinks over your words. “You could identify the techniques we’ve used, and then when you know them, emulate them.”

Your whole demeanour visibly perks up at this.

“Certain things are better if they’re taught, but sharing our knowledge could never hurt.” Wooyoung agrees with a slight nod of his head after a moment. “Let’s save that for later, though. We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“It’s also why we’re focussing on hand to hand combat training first.” Mingi adds. “Once you know that, adding a weapon simply pulls from that combat knowledge and extends it.”

“Okay,” you nod in understanding. “Makes sense.”

“Sometimes, allowing instinct to guide you helps in a fight.” San voices as you step back over to the sparring mat. “It doesn’t work for all of us, but trusting my gut has always saved me.”

“Don’t think, just move.” Jongho hums in agreement, standing off to the side and observing the two of you.

“I think you guys have a few more years of experience than me to be able to say that,” you joke, noticing how Wooyoung begins to laugh boisterously at your statement.

“You could say that,” he grins.

“At least a few,” Yeosang chimes in, amusement shining within his gaze.

“Come on,” San grins, taking a step forward in your direction, “we still need to teach you how to grab someone and pin them.”

“I volunteer!” Wooyoung is suddenly on his feet, arm raised enthusiastically in the air.

“Calm down, you idiot.” Jongho rolls his eyes. “It’s not your day to teach, yet.”

The dramatic pout that pulls at Wooyoung’s lips as he sits back down onto the ground has you chuckling in response.

“Don’t worry, Woo, I can pin you as much as you’d like some other time,” you comment casually, not even bothering to spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes.

Little do you see the way his eyes flash, yet you do not fail to miss the pleased growl that escapes him in that moment. The way Yeosang stiffens in his spot, pointed glare being sent towards the younger also goes unnoticed by you, but you do see the way the males in front of you seemingly go still.

“I thought you said your training wasn’t a free pass for sexy times?” Mingi grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who said anything about it being during my training?” You smirk, noticing the way all of their eyes flash black this time in response.

“You’re a tease, you know that, right?” San gets out through gritted teeth, eyes still swirling with that all too familiar darkness as he meets your gaze.

“Am I?” You feign innocence, a slight tilt to your head. “I had no idea.”

A moment of thick silence passes over all of you.

“So,” you hum, a slight amused twitch to your brow, “pinning?”

“Oh, we’re thinking about more than just pinning you now, Darling.” Jongho’s voice is low, nothing but a growl to his words.

“What ever do you mean, Darling?” The way you drawl out that one word sends a shiver right down Jongho’s spine.

“Baby,” San warns, chest rising and falling dramatically with every breath. “You’re playing a very dangerous game.”

“It’s as I’ve said before,” you giggle, a mischievous tug of your lips upwards. “It’s so easy to rile you guys up.”

“Can you blame us, Gorgeous?” Wooyoung’s voice is somewhat breathless as it reaches your ears from behind you. “You are the greatest temptation we’ve ever known.”

“Every little thing you do enchants us.” Mingi breathes, nothing but honesty in his words as his eyes roam every inch of your figure before him.

“Knowing you want to be here with us, and stay by our sides despite everything that’s happened is more than we could have ever asked for.” Yeosang tells you, his tone soft and airy as he stares at you with nothing but love in his honest gaze.

“The more we learn about you, and the more you want to know about us is like a dream come true.” Jongho admits, taking another step in closer to you until he’s practically wrapping you in his arms. The way you’re currently covered in sweat doesn’t seem to phase him at all as he presses his head softly against your own. “The fact that you have agreed to become Our Queen means more to us than the entirety of the realms combined.”

Soft rumbles of agreement echo around the room, filling your heart with a pleasant warmth as you melt into Jongho’s embrace.

“You are everything that we could have ever asked for.” San adds, closing the short distance between you and cupping your cheek tenderly in his hand. The way you turn to meet his gaze, eyes dripping with such affection towards them says it all. “We wouldn’t give that up for anything.”

You smile, your heart beating erratically in your chest. “You’re all smooth talkers, you know that?”

They all mirror your gentle expression.

“Only for you, Baby,” San’s thumb brushes gently against the skin of your cheek. “Now, stop trying to distract us. We still have things to teach you.”

His scolding is nothing but playful as he steps away from you, a knowing gleam held within his eyes as Jongho finally releases you from his hold. The way you grin, sticking your tongue out at him in the next moment has a chuckle falling from his lips.

“Alright, teach me what else you have to teach me today before I start swooning for real,” you say, heat rising to your cheeks as you feel all of their gazes on you yet again. “You’re supposed to be training me, not romancing me right now.”

“Is it working?” Wooyoung cracks a flirtatious grin, only to be hit upside the head by Yeosang in the next second. “Ow.”

“Who said we couldn’t do both?” Mingi chuckles, his eyes gleaming beneath the florescent lights.

You simply quirk a brow in their direction, a subtle smile tugging at your lips as you turn back to face San. The way you see him already fondly staring at you sets your heart racing inside of your chest. At least you can say that you can feel their love every time they look at you. A fact which has not changed since you first understood what all those fond looks meant. Hell, even before that you could tell, even if you didn’t quite know what types of gazes they were quite yet.

Always, you and your needs have come first. Always, they have kept your best interests in mind.

They always have, and they always will.

Always, and forever.

“You already know a few things to do if someone grabs you from behind,” Jongho’s voice draws your attention to the side of the room. “Now, we’re going to teach you how to use someone’s momentum against them in order to flip them onto their back. From there, you can pin them in multiple ways.”

“If you’re lucky, you can even use the momentum to dislocate someone’s shoulder.” San adds, an eager grin pulling at his lips as he explains this to you now.

The way your eyebrows raise in mild surprise has them all chuckling fondly.

“It helps when you can sense your opponent approaching, but this will still work even after they’ve grabbed you from behind.” San continues as Jongho begins to approach him.

The younger immediately attempts to grab the elder from behind. San, of course, is expecting him, so you watch as he bends his knees slightly in anticipation. As soon as Jongho reaches for San’s back, the elder is leaning forward, flipping the younger male onto his back and pinning him to the ground. Jongho wears an annoyed expression as San twists his one arm into the air, stepping on the younger’s chest with his one foot to pin him in place.

“Of course, you can always pin them by the throat when you step on them,” San states casually as he releases his hold on his younger brother, “but the chest will also suffice.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” Jongho grumbles as he pulls himself back onto his feet.

The corner of San’s lips twitch in response.

The next flip they show you is one where someone attacks you from the front. San charges at Jongho, only for the younger to duck beneath the elder, grab him by the thigh, and vault him over his back. Immediately, Jongho is spinning around, pressing his one knee into the elder’s chest as his hand settles right beside San’s head.

“This one, you have to be a bit quicker when pinning your opponent, for they could potentially recover quickly. If that happens, you can miss the opportunity to get your hands around their throat.”Jongho explains, looking up and meeting your gaze as he pushes himself off of the elder male.

“Of course, if you’re holding a weapon, it changes the position of things, but makes taking out your opponent easier in certain cases.” San adds, standing back to his feet and dusting himself off briefly. “But these work, even against opponents bigger than you are.”

“The key gets to be the momentum so you’re not dead lifting your opponent,” Jongho goes on to say. “At least for now.”

“Makes sense,” you nod your understanding as you roll your shoulders, standing a little straighter. “Can you show me a few more times?”

“Of course, Baby,” San smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly at the sides.

Both he and Jongho eagerly move back into position, switching between who flips who. Each time, they can feel your calculating gaze on them, analyzing their movements.

“Whenever you’re ready, you can practice on one of us,” San nods in your direction.

“Or us!” Wooyoung offers, quite enthusiastically at that.

You grin back, a light chuckle escaping your lips. “Alright.”

Not even two minutes later, you find yourself running through the steps of flipping someone with both San and Jongho. One approaches from the front, while the other approaches from behind. Once you’re comfortable in the movements, and they’ve subsequently given you some pointers as you run through them, you’re ready to attempt to flip and pin them in real time.

The moment you feel Jongho at your back, it’s as if instinct kicks in. Despite only learning the movements a short while ago, it’s as if they are second nature to you. The fluidity of which you flip Jongho with surprises even them, your eyes as wide as his are as you pin him to the ground with a foot on his chest.

“You’re a natural, Dearest.” Yeosang hums, pride rumbling with his chest as he observes the scene before him.

Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh. “Seeing you knock Jongho on his ass is something I never knew I needed until now.”

At the way the youngest takes a menacing step towards the elder male once he’s back on his feet, you laugh. The way Wooyoung immediately raises his hands in his own defence has amusement dancing in your eyes, his grin soon mirroring your own.

“Careful, Woo,” Mingi nudges the younger male with his knee, “or you might be next."

“It’s not a threat if I’m looking forward to it,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows flick upwards suggestively in your direction.

“Should I make you wear that belled collar now?” You quirk a brow, pure mirth shining within your gaze.

“Again, not a threat if you know I’ll enjoy it.” He hums, eyes glinting deviously.

Another smack resounds around the room, the younger male rubbing at the back of his head seeing as both Mingi and Yeosang had smacked him.

“Could you imagine Captain in this scenario?” The grin that tugs at the corner of San’s lips is nothing short of devious.

“I don’t think our eldest would fair much better.” Yeosang hums, amusement dancing on his features.

“They have always loved the idea of you roughing them up a bit,” Jongho chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“They’re not the only ones.” Wooyoung grumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

Again, his comment receives him a smack upside the head from both Yeosang and Mingi. Though, Yeosang seemingly avoids your gaze, clearing his throat in the next moment.

“Don’t worry, Starlight, we’ll all keep them in check,” Mingi assures you with a light smile, of which you return.

“I’m not worried, Min,” you chuckle, turning back to face San in the next moment. “Not in the slightest.”

A moment’s pause.

“Ready, Baby?” He asks, shifting his stance slightly in preparation.

All he receives is a nod from you, determination shining once more in your eyes.

He moves.

Again, it’s like you act on instinct, the movements appearing as if they are second nature to you. San gets flipped over your back, you turning to pin him to the ground in the next second. Your one hand rests on his upper chest, just below his throat as your knee digs into his lower abdomen. The way your fingers twitch slightly along the base of his neck has a shiver running up his spine.

A brilliant smile stretches across your features as you move off of him, much too soon for his liking.

“How was that?” You help him back to his feet.

“You’re a quick study, Darling.” Jongho praises, loving the way you seem to stand a little straighter at his words.

“It’s cause I have such good teachers,” you hum, warmth flooding your chest as you see them all smiling back at you fondly.

“Let’s run through everything we’ve gone over today a few more times, then call it.” San tells you, seeing you nod your head in understanding along with his words.

Another brief silence settles around all of you as you go over all of the stances, techniques, and manoeuvres they’ve taught you. Pride fills their chests at how well you seem to pick everything up, both San and Jongho only needing to fix your positioning a few times throughout the review.

“Once you know a few more things, and have these down, we can start sparring with one another.” San grins, helping you with some cooldown stretches to make sure your muscles won’t be too sore afterwards.

“Would you guys ever let me observe you when you spar with one another?” You voice casually, noticing how San stiffens the slightest bit before you as Jongho quirks a brow.

“If that is what you wanted, Darling,” Jongho grins, eyes flashing towards his brothers, “we’d be more than happy to oblige.”

You hum, nodding your head slightly. “Good to know.”

“We’ll save that for next time, though.” Mingi says, finally standing back to his feet and stretching out his back.

“Did you want to observe us sparing with our weapons, or without?” Yeosang asks, turning towards you as you hoist yourself off of the mat after finishing your round of stretches.

“Both would be cool,” you reply, an eager gleam in your eyes. “I haven’t really seen any of you in proper action, so I’ll take anything and everything I can get.”

“We can get pretty intense when we fight one another, Dearest.” Yeosang continues. “We don’t hold back at all.”

“You can’t improve that way.” Wooyoung shrugs, heading over to the stairs with the rest of you following behind.

“We used to place bets on one another depending on who was fighting,” San recalls with a chuckle, flicking off the lights as you all head back to the main floor.

“I miss those bets sometimes,” Mingi sighs, almost wistfully.

“I almost lost an arm the last time we did that.” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes downcast.

“Not my problem,” San huffs out an amused breath.

You snort out a laugh. “I take it you can’t regrow limbs?”

“Unfortunately, it’s one of the things we can’t do.” Yeosang confirms. “Doesn’t mean we can’t reattach them, though.”

“So, you guys are virtually indestructible and immortal?” You let out a low, impressed whistle.

“Definitely not invincible, but damn near close.” Wooyoung grins at you.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty hard to live without your head.” You comment, pushing the door open to the main floor and stepping out into the hallway.

“Which one?” Yeosang’s inquiry, combined with his completely deadpanned expression, has you faltering only briefly in your steps.

A boisterous laugh escapes your lips.

“Oh my god,” you lift a hand to support yourself against the wall as your chest heaves with laughter. “Depends. Which one do you use more to think with?”

“I don’t think you want to know our answers,” San mumbles, suddenly avoiding your gaze as he walks down the hall.

“I think I just got mine.” You snort out another laugh, leaning yourself fully against the wall.

At the halfhearted shrugs Mingi, Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang all give you, you find you can only smile and shake your head.

A few steps later and you find yourself just outside of your room. Stepping through the threshold reveals Kuroo curled up on that Snorlax beanbag chair off to the side. A spot of which you’re sure is one of his many favourites throughout the house.

“Thanks for today,” you smile faintly, leaning against the doorframe.

“Of course, Darling,” Jongho returns the look, that all too familiar fondness shining within his eyes. “We’ll work on some more strengthening exercises tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me.” You nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need a shower.”

“Want some company?” Before any of his brothers can stop him, the words are out of Mingi’s mouth. The way his lips quirk upwards, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, has you shaking your head in amusement.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves there, Min.” You grin, your one brow twitching upwards slightly. The way you see his shoulders visibly deflate, even the slightest bit, has you chuckling. At least Mingi ignores all the pointed looks his brothers are sending him for the moment. “Maybe next time.”

You don’t give any one of them a chance to properly process your words before you’re shutting the door in all of their faces. Though, at the pleased growls you can hear echoing from the opposite side of the door, you know they’ve finally registered them in their minds.

The mere thought of you allowing them to bathe with you excites them more than it should, even those who have already gotten to experience such an intimacy with you. Once is never enough, nor will it ever be enough. Not when it comes to you.

Moving over to your bathroom, you’re quick to strip yourself of your sweaty clothes and hop into the shower. The water is refreshing against your skin, and in no time at all, you find yourself relaxing beneath the spray.

Half an hour later, and you’ve finished freshening up. A clean pair of comfortable clothes rests over your figure, the familiar material of your favourite hoodie wrapping around you. The way you can faintly smell hints of apple clinging to the fabric has a smile tugging at your lips. Looks like Jongho was the last to wear it.

Exiting your room, you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to grab another bottle of water. Taking a sip, you begin to make your way through the house, figuring you’ll head over to the library to catch up on some reading for the rest of the day. Only, as soon as you step foot into the foyer, a familiar black crow greets you, resting comfortably on Yunho’s left shoulder.

“Hello there, Stella,” you smile as she glides over to perch herself on your own shoulder. “What a lovely surprise. What brings you here today?”

“She brought some news for us.” Seonghwa appears from down the hallway, Hongjoong at his side. A book seems to be held in the eldest’s hand as they all turn to look at you.

“Though, she didn’t come alone.” Yunho breathes, a worried furrow to his brow.

“Someone got through the wards again?” Immediately, panic begins to consume you, your whole body tensing right before their very eyes.

The way they see fear spark behind your gaze has a cold sense of dread rushing down each of their spines. They only wish you didn’t have to experience such negative thoughts or emotions again. Yet, they know, they only have themselves to blame.

“No, My Love,” Hongjoong is quick to assure you, coming to stand beside you as he places a comforting hand onto your arm. “She wanted to bring someone, but they won’t be allowed in until we go to retrieve them.”

“Oh,” you find you’re instantly breathing a sigh of relief.

“Sorry, Petal, I should have clarified,” the worried crease in Yunho’s brow has yet to smooth over as he takes a small step closer to you.

“No one but us can enter our domain.” Seonghwa’s voice is firm, reassuring not only you, but all of them in the front foyer as well. “We’ve made extra sure of that, now.”

“Good,” you nod, blinking a few times to clear your vision before looking over at the three of them. “Then, who did she want to bring?”

“Someone who might be able to provide us insight on Miyeon’s plans, even after her death.” Yunho states, and you notice how stiff he stands.

Placing a gentle hand on his one arm, you notice how your touch immediately relaxes him.

“We wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it before we allowed her into our domain. We’ve mentioned her to you before, but you’ve never met her yet.” Hongjoong says, meeting your gaze. “Otherwise, we’d go to her. We just simply have better privacy here.”

You nod your understanding. “Do you trust her?”

The three males share a look between each other.

“We do.” Yunho nods once in confirmation. “At least, for the moment.”

“Besides, if she tried anything, she wouldn’t get very far.” Seonghwa adds, grip tightening the slightest bit on the book in his hands.

“Alright,” you blink. “Then, bring her in.”

Three nods are all you receive in response before you’re all moving to accommodate the new presence they are about to bring in.

Which is exactly how you find yourself face to face with Mina in the dining room two minutes later. All of the guys surround you, Stella perched precariously on the back of your chair.

You sit at one head of the table, the chair turned outwards to face Mina as she stands directly across from you. Seonghwa rests off to your left, that book resting open before him as he looks over some ancient spells with Jongho to his left. Ancient spells that might allow them access to Mina’s locked memories.

Both San and Mingi stand behind you, leaning against the wall with their arms crossed over their chests. Their gazes are sharp, unforgiving as they stare her down.

Yunho stands the closest to Mina, senses on high alert as he monitors her mind for any sudden shift in demeanour. Slowly, carefully, he begins to attempt weaving through that jumble of memories once more.

To your right, stands both Hongjoong and Yeosang. Wooyoung leans casually against the far end of the table, his hands supporting himself on the edge. Each male watches Mina closely, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Stiffly, you sit in your chair, eyeing the woman before you cautiously. You know for a fact that they can all hear how frantically your heart is racing inside of your chest at this very moment, but none of them say anything. The only comfort you get for the moment is Hongjoong’s one hand tenderly placed atop your right shoulder, grounding you in this moment.

In your left hand, your therapy pebble resides, thumb brushing over the smooth side in tandem.

You take a deep breath in to steady your nerves.

“Thank you for agreeing to let me speak with you on such short notice, Your Majesties.” She bows lowly as she addresses all of you. “It is an honour to be allowed inside your home.”

Your brow twitches the slightest bit upwards as you watch her sink to her knees before you. Even more shocking, is when she formerly bows to you, pressing her forehead against her hands on the ground.

“An even greater honour, still, to be formally graced by your presence, My Queen.” She breathes, a slight tremble to her voice. Almost as if she’s nervous, not about how they might react, but how you might perceive her. “I count myself truly lucky to appear before you today.”

Her words catch you so off guard that your thumb stills over your stone.

You blink in shock, a momentary silence settling over the room. That’s when you realize, they’re all waiting for you to speak. All eight of them are allowing you to take the lead right now. You control the flow and outcome of this meeting, and they are more than ready and willing to act upon any of your wishes at a moment’s notice.

You exhale lowly once more to steady your nerves.

“Lift your head.” You surprise even yourself at how commanding your tone is. “Mina, is it?”

She meets your gaze, nodding softly. “Yes, Your Majesty. That is correct.”

The way she continues to address you so formally while remaining on her knees before you, throws you for a loop. You’ve never had anyone other than the eight men within this same room refer to you as such. Yet, hearing it from someone else’s mouth feels different. Something you’ll definitely have to get used to.

“Miyeon was your sister.” You state, rather firmly.

“She was.” Mina confirms, the subtlest of downturns to her lips.

Your hand tightens around that little pebble held within your grasp.

“Are you aware of the extent she went to in attempts to destroy me?” There’s a slight shift in your voice, a dullness that wasn’t there before as you continue to stare the female before you down.

Mina’s expression falls, shame washing over her features. “I am aware my sister had her own, private vendetta against you. However, I am unaware of the direct actions she has taken against you, Your Majesty.”

You tilt your head slightly, noticing the carefulness of her choice of words.

“I will not ask for you to forgive her, Your Majesties, for she does not deserve it.” Mina is quick to continue, diverting her gaze to the side as a hint of bitterness begins to coat her words. “She has brought great shame to our clan, and if I had known before what she had been capable of, I would have done everything in my power to stop her.”

“Hindsight is nice, after the fact,” Wooyoung spits rather harshly, his whole body visibly shaking as he pushes himself off of the side of the table.

Gently, you brush against that all too familiar pure white string inside your mind, and you watch as his shoulders relax. Even if only slightly.

Carefully, you study Mina before you.

“You were aware, to some extent, what she had planned for me.” Not a question, but a statement.

A second of hesitation. “Yes, My Queen.”

Both San and Seonghwa nearly lunge for her right then and there. Even Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Yeosang find it difficult to hold themselves back from skinning her alive this very second. Only, the way you shift forward in your seat, lifting your right hand upwards slightly in pause halts them in their tracks.

“Why have you waited until now to disclose this information with us?” San’s voice is pointed, tone the darkest you’ve ever heard from him as his words boarder on a low growl. You don’t even have to be looking at him to know his chest is heaving in barely controlled rage.

“I wasn’t conscious of it before this morning.” Mina replies, fear beginning to shine behind her eyes.

“You’re remembering things?” Your head tilts forward, eyes narrowing slightly as you look at her.

“Ever since my sister’s passing, the lines are becoming less blurred.” Mina admits, beginning to nervously wring her fingers together in her lap as she sits back on her knees. “King Yunho told me to contact all of you should my memory begin to become clearer.”

“Which is why you’re here now.” You nod gently in understanding.

“I don’t remember everything,” she shakes her head slightly, tears of frustration lining her eyes. “It’s painful for me to attempt to shift through anything more than just basics, but I’m trying. I’m tired of my sister always getting whatever she wants, even in death.”

Something clicks inside your mind, and understanding paints your features. “You resent her, don’t you?”

Mina purses her lips, and you’re sure she’s about to deny it. That is, until she’s heaving a large sigh, her shoulders deflating as she averts her gaze to the ground.

“More than anything.”

You feel Hongjoong’s hand tighten its grip slightly on your shoulder.

You open up your void.

Even I was unaware of that fact, Petal. Yunho meets your gaze only briefly from across the room. Her mind never let on to that.

How could you tell? There’s nothing but curiosity in Wooyoung’s voice as he turns his head in your direction.

My sister and I weren’t always as close as we are now. You respond, standing from your seat. I’d know that look anywhere.

The movement draws all of their attention for the moment, Hongjoong’s fingers sinking a little firmer into your shoulder as he attempts to prevent you from taking another step forward. At the small, reassuring look you send his way, he backs off.

“This whole time, you’ve yet to address your sister by her name.” You observe, coming to crouch before her. That stone is still held tightly in your left hand, and you use it as a lifeline for the moment as you steel your nerves. “That’s pointed on your part.”

“She doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of having anyone speak her name more than is absolutely necessary.” Mina’s brow furrows, bitterness now clear on her features. “Once is too much.”

You hum, bringing a finger up to guide her gaze back to your own briefly. Once you have her attention, your eyes locked with her own, you notice she cannot look away.

“She always got what she wanted, didn’t she? No questions. No consequence.” You watch her eyes flash, a small scowl pulling at her lips. “How many times had you heard someone tell her that this would be the last time, only for it to become a blatant lie?”

“All she ever did was take and take until there was nothing left for her to desire anymore,” Mina spits, her hands now clenched into fists at her sides. “Even if she had the entire world, it would never be enough for her.”

“She wanted it all, and she didn’t care who she took down in the process.” You add, watching as Mina nods furiously along with your words.

“Her two end goals were destroying you, and claiming the throne with King Yeosang at her side.” Mina confirms.

Little do you see the way all eight of them stiffen around the room. Yunho’s lids fall shut almost immediately, his eyes darting around every which way beneath them as he continues to work to untangle that thread of memories while you speak.

“I’m sure Dimitri didn’t like that idea all that much,” you hum, a slight quirk to your brow.

“No, the warlock was none too pleased to learn of that little detail in her plan-“ Mina’s breath hitches, voice suddenly failing her.

A collective stillness passes over the room.

“Dimitri was with you the day she came for a visit, wasn’t he?” You press, watching every twitch of her features carefully.

“Yes!” A flash of clarity shines within Mina’s eyes, of which widen suddenly. “Yes, Your Majesty. He was!”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yunho nodding subtly.

Mina begins to blink rapidly, brow tugging downwards as she suddenly clutches the side of her head in pain. Her breathing starts to become laboured, and you can see her eyes darting every which way around the room.

“Hey, hey,” you draw her attention to you once more, expression softening as you gently clasp her free hand in your own. “Look at me.” She does, eyes fixated on your own at your command. Firmly, you press that stone still held in your one hand against the skin of her palm, grounding her to you. “Get her out of your own head.”

Mina’s eyes squeeze shut. “She’s not alone.”

“It’s Dimitri, isn’t it?” Your voice is gentle, much softer than it had been only a moment before.

She nods, no longer able to verbalize her responses.

“She hurt him, too.” You say. “She killed his wife and two children to grab hold over him.”

“Family never meant much to her, anyways.” She replies, sadly. “I wondered why he looked so sad.”

“Sad?” You inquire, tilting your head slightly as you move to rest on your knees before her.

“He held himself firmly, but you cannot hide a broken interior.” Mina breathes, squeezing your hand slightly in her own.

“No,” you hum in agreement, understanding flashing within your gaze. “You truly can’t.”

Slowly, you push yourself back to your feet, noticing how Mina opts to remain on her knees before you. Carefully, she leans her head forward to rest on you hands still holding onto her own.

“Thank you, My Queen,” a tear lands on your skin, followed by another, and then another. “Thank you.”

“Whatever for, Mina?” Your brow furrows slightly as you continue to stare down at her.

The way she looks up at you in awe, gratitude shining within her teary eyes, has your breath hitching in your throat.

“You understand me.” She squeezes your hand once more. “My mind feels lighter because of you.”

“I doubt that was because of me,” you smile faintly, eyes briefly darting over towards where Yunho stands off to the side, his gaze already fixated on you. The pride you can see swirling within him as he looks at you so fondly has a warmth blooming in your chest, a subtle heat creeping up your neck. A look that you have no doubt is mirrored on seven other male’s faces behind you as you can feel their stares locked on your very figure.

“I don’t remember everything, yet,” she continues, a slight furrow to her brow as she attempts to recall more of her locked memories, “but things are starting to become clearer.”

“Were you able to tell us all that you came here for today?” You slowly help her back onto her feet, staring into her eyes as she stands across from you.

“I believe so,” she takes a moment to contemplate your words. At the way you raise an eyebrow, she blinks. “I remembered seeing another figure in my memories with her. I realize now it was Dimitri. She hardly ever did ‘meetings’ with Malik present.”

At her words, a mild surprise pulls at more than just your own features.

“Malik was used for more behind the scenes operations for the rebellion.” She adds. “Miyeon didn’t trust him to do the true dirty work. Hell, she didn’t trust anybody.”

You hum, somewhat in feigned understanding. “What a sad life to lead.”

“Indeed.” Mina confirms. Then, in the next moment, she’s blinking, as if remembering where she is, and who she stands before. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, pulling her hands out of your grasp as a vibrant red spreads across her cheeks. “Oh my, I am so sorry for intruding on your personal space like that, Your Majesty.”

Frantically, she begins to bow, eyes darting around the room to look at the eight males still observing the scene before them.

“It’s okay, Mina.” You chuckle, gently grasping her arms as you straighten her in her spot. The poor girl looks like a deer caught in headlights as you drop your hands back to your sides. “I’m sorry for invading your personal space.”

The red across her features darkens as she averts her gaze bashfully. “I don’t mind at all, My Queen.”

Low growls of warning echo around the room from each male present. Only, they’re cut off by your boisterous laughter.

“Oh, Reina would love you.” You grin, taking a step back from the demon fidgeting before you beneath the intense stares of all Eight Kings of the Realm. You snort, moving back beside Hongjoong for the moment and nudging him gently. “Will you all knock it off.”

Immediately, the tension is lessoning within the room.

Mina clears her throat. “Who’s Reina?”

“Never you mind for now,” you chuckle, tucking that small stone into the front pocket of your jeans. “I’m sure you’ll meet her sooner, than later.”

“I hope to be able to gain her favour, then.” Mina bows her head slightly. “She sounds important to you.”

Again, you hum in acknowledgement. “Depends. Do you like photography?”

There’s something endearing about the way Mina smiles shyly. “In all honesty, I’ve always had a passion for it, My Queen.”

“Starlight, I don’t think now is the time to be playing matchmaker.” Mingi takes a step forward, to which you spare a glance at him from over your shoulder.

You shrug, sitting back down in you seat for the moment. “I’m just looking out for my girl.”

Hongjoong chuckles softly before turning back to face Mina in front of you.

“Is there anything else we should know about?” His voice commands the room, and even you find yourself straightening slightly in your spot.

“I have said all that I have come here to say.” Mina bows once more. “I thank you again for allowing me to seek council in your own domain, Your Majesties.”

All she receives is a few curt nods in response from the eight of them while you smile kindly at her from across the way. A moment later, and Stella has flown over to Mina’s shoulder, perching there as Yunho teleports them both out of the room.

As soon as you’re alone with the eight of them once more, a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto lifts from your shoulder. Breathing a sigh of relief, you practically deflate into the chair.

“Where did that come from?” Wooyoung’s tone holds nothing but pleasant surprise as they all look at you for the time being.

You spare a sudden nervous glance around at all of them now that their gazes are locked on you. “I’m sorry?”

The way your voice trails upwards at the end of your sentence has Yeosang, Yunho, and Jongho all raising their brows amusedly at you.

“What ever would you need to apologize for, My Love?” Hongjoong kneels beside you, taking your hand into his own. Nothing but pride shines behind his eyes as he meets your gaze, gently bringing the back of your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss upon your skin. “You handled that beautifully.”

Mingi steps in behind you, gently brushing his hand over the top of your head. “Our Queen.”

Eight content rumbles reach your ears, and you find you cannot prevent the way warmth blooms on your cheeks once more.

“I thought I totally messed that up.” You admit lowly, sinking further into the chair you’re in.

“Not at all, Petal,” Yunho shakes his head, loving smile stretching across his features. “Because of you, I was able to untangle more of that knot of memories within her mind.”

“Really?” For the second time that day, you fail to hide how hopeful you sound. At the way he nods, you cannot prevent the way a large smile tugs at your lips.

“What else did you find?” Yeosang turns towards the taller male.

“Everything she spoke was the truth,” Yunho says, a firm nod to his head. “That, and Mina had to be held back while her sister and Dimitri implemented such a charm on her mind. Though, It seems she’s right about Dimitri. Perhaps we might be able to free his mind once we free her own.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” You reply, looking around at all of them.

“To an extent.” Seonghwa confirms. “We still know next to nothing about her plans with Malik, or when and where they plan to strike.”

“We also have no idea why she chose her allies the way she did.” Jongho frowns, leaning forward to rest his one arm on the table.

Your own arms cross over your chest, gaze staring intently at the floor near your feet. A million different thoughts race through your mind for the moment, not all of them pleasant.

“Are the dragons the only ones we know of that have denied a proposition to form an alliance with her?” Your calculating gaze shifts from the floor to spare a look around at all of them.

“As far as we know.” Hongjoong confirms. “Only the sirens have betrayed us.”

“For now.” San huffs, a roll to his eyes.

“Dimitri’s hunters, witches, and warlocks might not have had a choice in the matter.” Yeosang moves to sit himself in one of the other chairs at the table beside you.

“Are there more of them than just the ones who ally with Dimitri?” You ask, curiosity gleaming within your eyes.

“There are,” Mingi confirms with a slight grimace, “but there aren’t many you want to be associating yourself with. Those are the ones who only do business with you if it benefits them greatly. Most of the time, they’re the ones who make sure you end up dead.”

“There are also those that remain undiscovered.” Wooyoung adds, leaning once more against the side of the table.

“Undiscovered?” You tilt your head slightly.

“Either they choose to remain hidden to live in peace, or they are unaware of the power they possess.” Seonghwa explains.

“Ah, I see,” you hum in understanding. “So, attempting to find them is essentially a waste of time.”

“Essentially,” San agrees. “Unless you know where to look.”

“We don’t have time for that.” Yeosang shakes his head.

“We could always proposition the lycans,” Mingi suggests. “They’re always itching for a good fight to expel their energy.”

“If the gorgons and harpies fail, we might just have to.” Hongjoong’s lips pull downwards as he lets out a long exhale through his nose.

“I just can’t figure out what she could have possibly promised them to sway them onto her side.” Yunho stares deeply at the top of the table, wracking his brain for a solution to a problem he can’t quite comprehend.

“I doubt they would have agreed if she told them she had plans to rule over everything.” You voice, jaw twitching slightly as your mind continues to race.

“Everything?” Yeosang meets your gaze, confusion clear in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I have a theory, and I don’t think any of us are going to like it very much.” You grimace slightly, standing back to your feet in the next moment.

“What are you thinking, Darling?” Jongho watches as you turn around to face him and his brothers fully.

You let out a brief exhale through your nose. “I need to talk to Wyno.”

442 notes · View notes

hockey-fics · 9 months

Text

A Love Worth Changing For ~ Nico Hischier

Summary: Your commitment to yourself to stay out of a relationship becomes harder to keep when you meet someone who just might be worth breaking your promises for.

Word count: ~8,900

Warnings: Drinking (quite a bit), implied/vaguely mentioned smut, throwing up, toxic behaviours.

A/N: I kind of hate how this turned out, to be honest. It's not super well edited because I didn't want to read through it yet another time.

You didn’t want to be in a relationship. It was a promise you made to yourself. You wouldn’t get into a relationship until you were done with school. You had high expectations for yourself in your years at university. You wanted to do well, that was a given. Staying out of a relationship would only leave you with more time to study. But you also wanted these years to explore who you were as a person, casually date, figure out what you wanted in a partner and what kind of partner you wanted to be.

It wasn’t hard, at least not for the first few years. Until you decided to go to grad school and decided to keep your commitment to not having any romantic commitment. And then came your second hurdle, when you met Nico.

October 2021

Standing at the kitchen counter you fill a bowl with a bag of chips that you know will go mostly untouched in favour of drinks, but it was the thought that mattered, right? Your phone vibrates on the counter and your eyes fall to your bright screen. A text from Jack. Unlocking your phone you read the message, asking if he could bring a couple friends. Sighing to yourself you reply that it was fine, though you were a little nervous about who Jack was going to be bringing to a party you were already worried might be getting too large.

Before long your apartment is full of people, half of which you didn’t know, tagging along with the half that you did. You’re in the kitchen mixing yourself an unnecessarily strong drink of tequila and orange juice when you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. Turning around your eyes focus on Jack.

“Hey,” you greet, pulling him into a quick, friendly hug. Jack. You met him when you both arrived in New Jersey, him to play for the Devils and you to start your undergrad degree. It was an instant connection, but not the kind your friends had speculated. You understood that he was attractive, you knew that almost everyone seemed to fall for him. But your connection with him felt more like a brother than anything more. “How was your game?”

“It was good…It would be really cool if you would like watch a game once in awhile,” Jack jokes.

“I was busy,” you whine, taking a large sip of your drink.

“Busy with what?”

“Preparing this place to sustain the damage of another party,” you inform him. “And pre-gaming.”

“I see how it is, rather get drunk than come see me play.”

Rolling your eyes you lean back against the counter. “Honestly, yeah,” you joke. Your eyes travel over Jack’s shoulder, to the man standing behind him, hands shoved in his pockets, glancing around uncertainly. “Hi,” you call to him, catching his attention. “I’m Y/N.”

“Hey, uh, I’m Nico,” he tells you, shuffling his way between Jack and some other guy you had yet to meet. “Is this your place?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, hearing a shattering of glass from the other side of the kitchen. “Unfortunately,” you add with a breath of laughter. “I should go deal with that, I’ll talk to you later, Nico,” you tell him, placing your hand on his arm as you slip by him in the direction of the shattering sound.

After helping clean up the mess of broken glass and spilled beer you head back into the kitchen, needing another drink. You find Jack and Nico nearly exactly where you had left them, discussing something with an intensity that piques your interest.

“Am I missing something?” you ask Jack, pouring yourself another drink.

“He thinks you’re hot,” Jack states boldly.

You’re caught off guard by how easily he offers the information, especially when you see Nico elbow him in the side, clearly not wanting him to have said that. “Oh?” you say, turning to face Nico, a playful smile on your lips.

“I, uh,” Nico begins, eyes falling to the ground. “Yeah,” he finally mutters.

Giggling you take a sip of your drink, stepping a little closer to him. “Well, I think you’re pretty hot as well,” you tell him, hoping it would ease some of the awkward tension that had fallen on the conversation.

“This is gross,” Jack mutters, gulping back half of his beer in one go.

“You’re the one who brought it up, dumbass,” you remind him, spinning to lean against the counter beside Nico. “Tell me more about yourself,” you say to Nico.

“What do you want to know?”

Shrugging you glance down to his empty hands. “Do you not drink?”

“I offered to drive him home,” Nico tells you, nodding towards Jack.

“Drive Jack home?” you mutter, eyebrows furrowed. “Jack never goes home after he gets drunk here.”

“Oh, I, uh, didn’t know you two were-,” Nico stammers, shaking his head as he glances over to Jack with an incredulous look.

“That’s not what I meant,” you exclaim with wide eyes. “He sleeps on the couch.”

“Oh,” Nico chuckles.

“So, does that mean you’re going to have a drink?”

Nico shrugs, looking over at Jack, who was already on his third beer. “I still need to drive myself home.”

“I’m sure we can find you somewhere to sleep,” you tell him.

And find him somewhere to sleep was exactly what you did, in your bed right next to you.

When you wake up the next morning your arm is slung over Nico’s chest, your head on his shoulder. Slowly you pull your body away from him, tugging the sheets up over your naked body as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 9:35 AM.

“Morning,” Nico mumbles tiredly.

“Morning,” you reply, glancing down at him with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” Nico shrugs. “Tired.”

“Me too,” you laugh. “Do you want some coffee or something?”

“If you’re going to make some for yourself I’ll have some.”

Climbing out of bed you pull some clothes on, shuffling out of your room to take in the damage from the night before. The kitchen counters are littered with cans and bottles, sticky with spilled drinks. Sighing to yourself you grab a bag, beginning the long process of post-party clean up. Nico is at your side a second later, tossing cans into the bag you were holding.

“You don’t need to clean up, it’s okay,” you assure him, not wanting him to feel obligated to help clean your apartment after a party you decided to throw.

“I don’t mind,” Nico shrugs. “I’m sure some of it is my mess.”

His justification makes you giggle, knowing that he had been one of the only people the night before to ask you where you wanted him to put his empty cans. You finish clearing off the counter together, wiping it down before making a pot of coffee. While it was brewing you stand at the counter, Nico in front of you, his hands on your hips as he looks down at you.

“So do you think I can get your number?” Nico asks.

Running your hands up his arms you rest them on his shoulders, smiling playfully up at him. “Yeah, I think maybe I could give you my number.”

Leaning down Nico presses his lips to yours again, gently and slowly, tugging your hips closer to his body.

“Get a room.”

Pulling back from Nico you look across the kitchen to where Jack was now standing. “You know this is my apartment, right?” you joke, pulling your arms back from Nico. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure,” Jack mumbles, leaning tiredly into the counter. “Do you have that girl’s number?”

“Who?” you ask, pressing your palms into the counter, hopping up onto it.

“You know, the one I was talking to.”

“Do you even remember her name?”

“Yeah,” Jack mutters dismissively.

“What is it then?”

“Do you have her number or not?” Jack exclaims, rubbing his fingers over his temples.

“Yes,” you tell him with a sigh. “I’m not giving you her number if you can’t even remember her name.”

Jack lets out a loud groan, shaking his head. “Fine, whatever,” he grumbles.

Nico glances up at you with a look that told you he agreed with your decision. “You remember my name, right?” you joke.

Nico chuckles, leaning up to press his lips to your again. “Of course,” he tells you.

After the coffee is done brewing you pour a few mugs, adding some cream to your coffee. Heading into the living room you curl up on the couch, leaning into Nico when he sits down beside you. The three of you sit in the living room, talking about the night before while finishing your coffee.

Shortly after finishing his coffee Jack decides to get an Uber home, leaving you and Nico alone again. You spend the majority of the day cuddled up with Nico on the couch, watching movie after movie as the hangover slowly begins to leave your body.

“When are you free for me to take you on a date?” Nico asks after the end of yet another movie.

Sitting up you pull your body away from Nico, turning to look over at him. “Nico, I do like you but I feel like I should tell you that I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

“Does that mean I don’t get to see you again?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” you giggle, shaking your head. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“Okay,” Nico says with a shrug. “How about Wednesday night?”

“Wednesday night sounds good to me,” you reply, leaning over and kissing him gently.

Wednesday night comes around quickly and your date goes incredibly well. As does the next date, and all the ones after that. It wasn’t long till you were spending almost all your spare time together.

There was a connection you had with Nico that was undeniable. But you were holding onto your promise to yourself that you weren’t going to get into a relationship.

December 2021

You’re finally packing clothes for your trip home, having just finished your exams a few days earlier. Going home for the holidays was always one of the highlights of your year, when you could finally relax without worrying about assignments or classes or exams. Folding a few sweaters you set them into the suitcase on your bed, a sudden knock on your door startling you.

Heading through your apartment you hesitantly pull the door open, relaxing when you see Nico standing in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you before you left,” Nico explains, stepping inside. “And I wanted to bring you this.”

Your eyes fall to the wrapped box in his hand. “A Christmas present?”

“Yeah,” Nico chuckles, setting it into your hands.

“Why?” you whisper, looking up into his eyes. “You didn’t have to get me anything, we’re not-.”

“We’re not together, I know,” Nico interrupts, having heard the line from you over and over again at various times throughout the last few months. Not together, just friends with benefits...who also happened to be going on frequent dates.

Sighing you set the present down onto the table by the door, reaching over to take his hands. “Well, thank you,” you whisper, leaning up and pressing your lips to his. “But you really didn’t have to.”

“You’re welcome,” Nico says, pulling you into a hug. “When do you have to be at the airport?”

“Tomorrow morning at eight.”

“I can drive you…if you want,” Nico offers.

Pulling back you smile up at him, fingers running down his arms. “That would be great, thank you. Do you have plans tonight?”

“No.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?”

A smirk forms on Nico’s lips, his hands finding their way to your hips. “Yes.”

Giggling you lean up, kissing him again. This time you don’t pull back immediately, your arms finding their way over his shoulders. His tongue brushes against yours and you push yourself closer to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater.

“Let’s go to my room,” you mumble against his lips before taking his hand and pulling him through your apartment to your bedroom.

“Do you need to finish packing?” Nico asks, his eyes falling to the suitcase on your bed, piles of clothes laying around your room.

“It can wait,” you assure him, setting your suitcase onto the ground. You’re on the bed a second later, letting Nico pull your clothes off. Hands grasping at each other, both knowing that you’d have to go a few weeks without getting to see each other, without getting to touch each other.

Nico makes you finish more times than you ever had in one night, till you’re a shaky, flushed mess. Maybe it was because you would be apart from each other for awhile, maybe he was trying to leave a lasting impression, keep you from wanting to be with anyone else. Whatever the reason, you were more than okay with it.

“I should probably finish packing,” you whisper, head laying on Nico’s shoulder, fingers grazing over his chest.

“Do you need help or anything?” Nico offers.

“No, there’s not that much left to do,” you tell him as you pull some clothes back on.

Nico spends the rest of the evening keeping you company while you finish packing and doing last minute preparation around your apartment. By the time you get to bed that night you know that neither of you was going to end up with an adequate amount of sleep that night. But you didn’t mind if it meant spending more time with Nico.

June 2022

You were prepared to spend the summer away from Nico. You didn’t want to, that much you needed to admit. But you weren’t his girlfriend, he wasn’t your boyfriend. There was no reason for any variation to Nico’s normal summer plans.

So you had said goodbye to him the night before he flew back to Switzerland to spend time with his friends and family. You managed to hold back your emotions till he left and you couldn’t hold the tears back any longer.

You kept yourself busy, picking up extra shifts when you could to keep your mind off of missing him. You knew it wasn’t normal, to have these feelings for someone who you were refusing to be more than just friends with benefits with.

Of course the two of you continued talking, text messages being exchanged when the time difference would allow for it. But it wasn’t until he called you one evening that you were really reminded that whatever was going on between you two was a lot more than what you were willing to say out loud.

“Hey,” you greet as you answer the phone, sitting in your living room, watching re-runs of your favourite TV show.

“Hi,” Nico replies, his voice was quiet but you could hear a slight slur in his words. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, not a lot, watching TV,” you tell him, sitting up straighter on the couch, eyes narrowing as you stare at the other end of the couch. “What are-,” you can’t even finish asking what he was doing before he cuts you off.

“With who?” Nico asks and there’s something in his tone that makes you feel like it’s more of an accusation than a genuine question.

“Nobody…why?”

“You’re watching TV by yourself on a Friday night?”

“Well it’s 6PM here,” you remind him. “But yes, I’m watching TV alone, why?”

“Right,” Nico mutters. “I miss you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” Nico replies quickly. “Yes,” he admits just as quickly, without you even needing to question him on it. “We went out for drinks, I had too many.”

“Well did you at least have fun?” you ask, holding back a laugh.

“Yeah…I wish you were here though.”

Your silent for a little too long, wracking your brain for what to say. ‘Me too’ didn’t feel right, even if it was the truth. “You’ll be back in a couple months,” you finally whisper.

“I don’t want to wait that long,” Nico mumbles. “I want you to come here.”

Laughing softly you roll your eyes to yourself, leaning back into the couch.

“I’m not joking,” Nico states, clearly taking offence to your laughter.

“I can’t,” you tell him, nervously fiddling with a loose thread on your shorts.

“Why not? I’ll buy you a flight, you can stay with me or I can get you a hotel or whatever, it doesn't matter.”

“That’s not the problem, Nico,” you tell him, though if you were seriously considering his suggestion it probably would have been a problem.

“Then what is?”

“We-,” you begin, pausing to take a deep breath. “We’re not together…I’m not your girlfriend, Nico. I’m not going to fly halfway across the world and meet your friends and family when we’re not even together,” you explain.

The silence that follows is so long that you begin to wonder if he was even still there. But you sit in the silence, with each second growing more and more uncomfortable.

“I love you.”

“Nico,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears. You weren’t even sure where your emotions were coming from, but they were beyond overwhelming. “You don’t…you don’t mean that. You’re drunk-.”

“I do,” Nico insists, knowing where you were about to go with your sentence. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as you thought, but you didn’t want to truly admit that.

“Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Nico mumbles.

“Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Nico whispers. “Have a good night.”

The two of you did talk the next day. But at no point did either of you bring up the night before. Maybe he didn’t remember it. Maybe he no longer wanted to discuss it now that his mind was no longer clouded by alcohol. Either way you were pretty sure it was the best outcome for both you and him.

October 2022

“I like this one,” you say, pointing out a small pumpkin sitting on the edge of a pallet in the pumpkin patch.

“It’s so small,” Nico comments, chuckling as he stands next to you, staring down at the little pumpkin.

Shrugging you lean down, picking it up. “It’s cute.”

“Like you,” Nico says with a smirk, already anticipating your response.

Rolling your eyes you jokingly take a step away from him. “Gross.”

Reaching over Nico takes your hand, tugging you back towards him. “I know you like it.”

Shaking your head you let go of his hand, running it up his arm to wrap around his shoulders. Pushing yourself onto your tip toes you press your lips to his. “I do,” you admit, stepping back from him. “Now pick your pumpkin so we can go home and carve them.”

After Nico picks out and pays for the pumpkins you head back to your apartment, stopping on your way there to pick up dinner and a couple bottles of wine.

“Do you want the shiraz or the zinfandel?” you call to Nico, pulling a couple glasses of wine out from the cupboard.

Glancing over your shoulder you watch Nico set the pumpkins down on the table, a smile on his face. “You know that I don’t know the difference.”

Giggling you open the drawer in the kitchen, rifling through it for your wine opener. “I want to try the zinfandel,” you tell him, jumping as you feel his hands on your hips, tugging your back into his chest.

“Sounds great to me,” Nico whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck gently.

With a quiet, pleasure filled sigh you let yourself melt into him, the warmth of his body radiating into you. “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Doing what?” Nico asks, letting you turn around in his arms to face him.

“This whole pumpkin thing, I know it’s kind of stupid as adults,” you explain.

Nico shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his arms. “It’s not stupid and you don’t need to thank me, I wanted to do this,” Nico assures you.

“I l-,” you begin, stopping yourself short as you realize what you were about to say. I love you. Swallowing heavily you pull yourself back from him, quickly turning around, fumbling with the wine opener.

“What were you going to say?”

Shaking your head you twist the screw into the cork, fingers shaking nervously. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Nico insists, reaching over and placing his hand on your lower back, trying to get your attention again. “Just talk to me.”

“I said it doesn’t matter,” you snap, struggling to wiggle the cork out of the bottle. As the cork pops out of the top of the bottle the sudden change in force sends the bottle slipping across the counter, red wine sloshing out all over the counter as the bottle clatters onto the counter. “Fuck,” you mutter, eyes welling with tears as you reach for the bottle, quickly standing it back up.

As you reach for the towel hanging on the handle of the oven Nico catches your hands, pulling you to face him. “Slow down,” he says gently. “What’s going on?”

The tears that had welled up in your eyes were slipping down your cheeks now, your hands stilled by Nico’s hands stopping you from wiping them away. “I love you,” you exclaim. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Nico is quiet for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your back gently. “I only want to hear it if you mean it.”

You don’t answer him. You knew you should answer him. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it again, you could barely say it once. “I need to clean up the wine,” you whisper, wiggling out of Nico’s arms.

“You should use the paper towel, you’ll stain that one,” Nico tells you, gesturing to the towel you had originally reached for.

“Right,” you whisper, nodding slowly as you stare up at him. You didn’t know what you had expected out of him after that, but it sure wasn’t cleaning tips. After cleaning up the wine from the counter you excuse yourself to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. Wiping away the remnant of your tears you take a few deep breaths, eventually managing to calm yourself enough to venture back to the kitchen.

When you step into the room your eyes find Nico at the table, two glasses of wine and the pumpkins in front of him. “What-?”

“You don’t want to carve them anymore?” Nico asks.

“I-,” you begin, walking through the room to sit down at the table with him. “Yeah, I do.”

For awhile the two of you sit in relative silence, the energy in the room feeling tense. But by the time your glass of wine was empty the tension had dissipated.

You knew you loved him. You knew you meant it when you said it. You knew it before but something in that evening only made you love him even more. He didn’t push you. He didn’t make you feel bad. He was there for you, with you, in whatever way you wanted in that moment.

November 2022

“Jack, I don’t feel good,” you whisper, glancing around the packed night club.

Jack turns his attention away from the group of your friends that he was in the midst of a conversation with. His eyes land on you, nodding slowly as he reaches out, placing his hand on your side to steady your swaying body. “Come on,” he mumbles, guiding you through the building and into one of the single stall bathrooms.

You’re only in the bathroom for a second before you’re hovering over the toilet, the plethora of drinks you had consumed that night coming right back up.

“I’m going to get you some water,” Jack tells you, turning to open the door. “Stay here, okay?”

Nodding you flush the toilet, standing up and placing your hands on the edge of the counter, a steady surface to steady your not so steady self against. You turn the lock on the door, leaning into the counter again, taking deep breath to try to keep

Jack returns a few moments later with a glass of water which you gratefully take. After downing half the glass you feel your eyes fill with tears, drunk mind racing with emotions. “Does he hate me?” you mutter, looking over at Jack.

“What?” Jack asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nico,” you whisper. “Does he hate me? He asked me to take things further again yesterday and I said no.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him in a few days,” Jack tells you. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Refusing to be his girlfriend and now you’re crying about him.”

Your eyes fall to the ground, trying to find some sort of valid explanation for him. “I don’t want to be in a relationship right now,” you finally whisper.

“Why? You’re obviously into him,” Jack retorts quickly.

“Because, I’m supposed to figure out who I am in university, Jack. I’m supposed to have crazy, fun experiences with new people and I’m not supposed to find the person I’m going to be with for the rest of my life right now and-.”

“He’s not asking you to marry him,” Jack interrupts. “Why are you worried about spending the rest of your life with him right now?”

“Because I don’t want to get my heart broken, I don’t want to get hurt,” you mutter.

“You’re crying about him in a bathroom,” Jack exclaims, shaking his head. “You’re already hurt.”

“No,” you whisper, sniffling softly, tears rolling down your cheeks again. You didn’t want to admit Jack was right, you didn’t want to admit that everything you had done in the last year to keep Nico at a distance had been for nothing. “I want to go home.”

“You can come back to my place,” Jack offers with a sigh, clearly not wanting his night to be over but also not about to leave you alone.

“I’ll just get an Uber,” you tell him, pulling your phone from your pocket.

“I’m not letting you Uber home alone right now.”

You knew it was coming from a place of concern, but you really didn’t want to be the one to wreck his plans for the night. Whatever those plans were. “Fine,” you mutter. “But I don’t want to force you to go home.”

“Well all your friends are here and they’re also drunk so what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” you whine, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling. The tiles are spinning in your mind and your head feels heavy, but you manage to lift it again before the spinning brings on another round of nausea. Your eyes land on Jack, watching him typing something quickly into his phone. You manage to restrain your drunken nosiness from asking who he was talking to, staying silent.

“Nico is going to pick you up,” Jack tells you a few minutes later, making your heart race.

“No,” you exclaim, shaking your head. You couldn’t let him see you like this.

“He’s already on his way,” Jack tells you definitively. “Come on, I’ll walk outside with you and wait for him.”

“Jack,” you whine, following him out of the bathroom anyway. “This is mean.”

“I offered to take you home,” Jack snaps, clearly annoyed with you for making any attempts to help much harder than necessary.

Sighing you follow him outside, the cold night air feeling refreshing to your nightclub-induced clammy skin. “I’m scared, Jack,” you whisper, standing next to him on the sidewalk.

“Why?”

“He hates me-.”

“He’s picking you up drunk at two in the morning, he doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes, he does,” you repeat. “He hates me but he’s nice a good guy and he’s just coming to pick me up because he’s not a shitty person and I-.”

“Shut up,” Jack groans. “Yeah, he’s a nice guy or whatever but he’s not nice enough to get out of bed and come here to take care of you if he doesn’t still like you.”

Just as Jack finished his sentence a familiar car pulls up along the side of the road. Quickly Jack yanks the passenger’s side door open. “Good luck,” he tells Nico as he guides you into the car.

“You okay?” Nico asks as you pull your seatbelt on, refusing to look across the car at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter, eyes focusing out the side window, small raindrops beginning to splatter onto the clear glass. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I did,” Nico states and you can tell he’s glancing at you when he says it. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to either though,” he clarifies.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, finally glancing over at him. "I'm sorry for making this so hard, I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be right now, I like you so much Nico but I just can't be with you right now."

"It's okay," Nico tells you, his own voice greatly contrasting your unsteady, high-pitched tone. "I'm not going to push anything, if you want me around I'll be here. I'll wait for you."

January 2023

New Year's Eve. It was the one holiday that you seemed to never have a single tradition for. You had spent your New Year's Eve in a new location every year, from your bedroom to house parties to bars. This year though it was going to spent at a nightclub. A nightclub with as many friends as you could possibly wrangle into spending their night’s in a sweaty, loud, sticky nightclub downtown…including Nico.

You had gotten to Jack’s place just after eight, having spent the better part of three hours getting ready with your best friends at your apartment. You had to admit though, the time paid off, your outfit giving you an almost dangerous amount of confidence.

“Where’s Nico?” you ask Jack, watching him pour another round of shots.

You watch Jack’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, glancing at you for a second before returning to his bartending role. “Very interested in him for not being with him.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking a sip of your vodka soda. “I’m just curious, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Here,” Jack states, handing you a shot glass, filled to the brim with tequila. As you reach to take the shot glass he pulls it away, holding it out of your reach. “You have to promise that you’re not going to end up puking and crying about him tonight.”

“Fuck off,” you mutter, reaching over and taking the shot glass from his hand, quickly dumping it into your mouth. You force the liquid down your throat with a wince, shuddering as you set the empty glass down onto the counter.

“If I hear you say you’re not feeling good I will be finding someone else to take care of you.”

“I’ve never been that drunk in my life before, Jack. Stop acting like it happens frequently,” you whine.

Jack chuckles, opening another beer. “You’re still that embarrassed about it, hey?”

“It was embarrassing,” you exclaim, glancing around the apartment, your interest piquing as your eyes sweep by the front door. Looking back you see Nico, struggling to yank his jacket off while holding a case of beer in one hand. “I’ll be right back,” you mutter to Jack, hurrying over to the door. “Need some help?” you ask Nico, taking the beer from his hand to let him take his jacket off.

“Thanks,” he says with a chuckle, balancing his coat on a stack over a hook on the wall. He turns his attention back you, his eyes gazing up and down your body. “You look hot,” he comments.

You can’t help but giggle at his comment, your cheeks reddening. “Well it took me long enough to get ready so I’m glad I got something out of it.” Turning around you head towards the kitchen with Nico’s beer.

Nico has his hands on your hips, stopping you in your tracks a moment later. “You can get anything you want looking like that,” Nico whispers.

Your breath catches in your throat, your back hitting Nico’s chest as you come to a stop. “It’s nine, Nico. We’ve got at least three more hours to go.”

“And?” Nico mumbles.

Giggling you lean back into him, tipping your head back to look up at him. “And if you keep this up I won’t be able to make it till midnight without trying to get you back to my place.”

Nico chuckles, his hand slipping around to your ass as he moves to walk towards the kitchen. Your cheeks warm even further at the contact, watching him take the beer from you, unloading a few of them into Jack’s fridge.

By the time you get to the club that night you’re a little more than tipsy, knowing you wouldn’t need to spend much money at the bar that night. The night had started with a lot of flirting between you and Nico, but once you arrived at the club you found yourself swept away with a few of your other friends.

Before you knew it you were standing in a group with just a couple of your friends and quite a few men you had never met before. There’s a man standing next to you who had his hands on you more than was accidental. A hand on your back as he squeezed by to order another drink, fingers brushing against yours, body pressing to yours while he leaned in to try to hear something someone said. You didn’t dislike it, you knew he was flirting with you and part of you was enthralled by that, by the attention. But every time it happened your mind would find its way back to Nico.

“Let’s get you another drink,” Peter, who you had just discovered the name of, says.

Your eyes glance down at your empty drink before letting him guide you to the bar with his hand on your waist. You order your drink and Peter pulls out his wallet. The two of you make small talk while you sip on your new drink. He was attractive, you had to admit that. But that’s about where it stopped. There was nothing about his personality that enticed you, but selfishly you did like the attention.

But you’re not able to see where things would go with him because the next thing you know Nico is pushing his way through the crowd to be at your side.

“What are you doing?” Nico asks you, not even acknowledging the man you were talking to.

Shrugging your shoulders your eyes flick back and forth from Nico to Peter and back to Nico. “What do you mean?”

Nico shakes his head with a cold chuckle, reaching down and taking your hand. “Come on, you’re done here.”

“Nico,” you whisper, eyes drilling into his. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t,” Nico mutters, shaking his head. “You know what I’m talking about, let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you state definitively, staring into his eyes as you match his intensity.

“What’s going on?” Peter interjects, catching both you and Nico’s attention.

“I think you should go,” Nico tells him before you have a chance to get a single word in.

“Why?” Peter asks with a cold chuckle. “She clearly isn’t interested in you, why would I go anywhere?”

You don’t even process what’s happening till Peter is stumbling backwards, hand on his jaw where Nico’s fist had just met with it. Thankfully a bouncer pulls Peter back before he can retaliate, Nico frozen in place, just as stunned by his actions as everyone else in that club.

You weren’t happy with Nico’s actions but you turn towards him anyway, grasping his arms a second later. “What the hell?” you exclaim, frantic eyes searching his for any type of answer.

Before Nico has a chance to say anything a bouncer is at his side, nodding towards the door. “You gotta go.”

“I-,” Nico begins before turning in the direction of the door, knowing he wasn’t going to argue his way out of this one.

You watch the bouncer guiding Nico towards the door, realizing you weren’t also being kicked out. You didn’t need to go. You could stay, you could keep drinking, celebrate New Years in this club. But the further and further Nico got with the bouncer the more uneasy you felt. So you let your legs carry you through the club and out the front door, into the freezing night air with Nico.

“Nico,” you call as you watch him walking away from the club, clearly with no real destination in mind.

“What?” Nico snaps, turning back around to look at you. “What do you want?”

“You’re really mad at me right now?” you yell, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep yourself warm.

“Yes,” Nico exclaims. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Nico.”

Nico shakes his head, laughing coldly. “I guess not,” Nico yells. “But whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore, I’m fucking done with this, I’m done with you.”

“Nico,” you mumble, walking closer to him, hoping something, anything you would say could convince him that it wasn’t that serious. “Please don’t say that.”

“No, I’m over this, I’m not going to keep fighting for you if you don’t give a fuck about me.”

“I do care about you,” you yell back at him, your voice hoarse and shaky. “I care about you so much, Nico, you don’t even know.”

“If you cared about me you wouldn’t be trying to fuck other guys right in front of me.”

“I-,” you begin, realizing you didn’t even know what your justification was about to be. Because, to be honest, you didn’t have one. “I’m sorry,” you finally croak.

“Just go back inside, I don’t fucking care,” Nico mutters, slurred words finally giving away his drunken state.

“I do,” you yell, walking closer to him. “I don’t want to go back inside, Nico. I don’t want to leave you…I do care.”

“Why?” Nico snaps, staring down at you intently now that you were standing just a foot in front of him.

“Because I love you,” you exclaim, the words leaving your mouth before you even had a chance to process them.

“Then don’t try to fuck other people,” Nico mutters, sliding his jacket off his arms now that you were close enough for him to realize you were shaking, gently placing it over your shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again, tears welling in your eyes. You slip your arms into his jacket, tugging it tight around your body. “Please, I can’t lose you. I don’t want to be with him, I don’t want to be with anyone else. I want you.”

Nico steps back, taking a deep breath as he looks around the night sky for a minute. “Okay,” Nico mutters and you’re sure it’s more to himself than to you. “Do you want to go back in?”

“I’m not leaving you,” you tell him.

“It’s New Years, go be with your friends, I’m the one who fucked up.”

“No, you didn’t,” you whisper. “I mean, I don’t think you should have punched him but I’m not letting you take all the blame for this...Do you want to come over to my place?”

“Okay…sure, yeah, if that’s what you want to do,” Nico says, reaching over and pulling you into him, rubbing his hand along your arm, trying to warm you up.

So the two of you head back to your apartment, spending the rest of New Year's Eve together, just the two of you and a bottle of champagne.

It wasn’t the New Year's Eve you were expecting. It wasn’t necessarily the New Year's Eve you wanted, but maybe it was the New Year's Eve you needed. The wake up call that you had gone far beyond just friends with benefits. Even if you weren’t ready to accept it.

February 2023

Things had changed after the New Year's Eve incident. Neither of you had verbally talked about what had changed but you both knew it had. It was the second time you told him you loved him. The second time neither of you acknowledged it after it happened. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Your words had continued echoing in your mind and you knew you should deal with those thoughts, those feelings.

But you didn’t.

Maybe you really wanted to keep your commitment to yourself, to not get into a relationship till you had graduated. Maybe you were scared to take that step. Maybe you were embarrassed to ask for that after pushing it away for so long.

So you fell back into the routine you had before. Frequent dates and spending most of your time together in between. It was different, yet the routines remained the same for months.

June 2023

“I need a date to the awards ceremony,” Nico says, referring to the NHL Awards that were approaching quickly.

“I don’t think you need a date,” you reply, looking up over the top of your phone to the other end of the couch, where Nico was sitting.

“Okay…I want a date for the awards,” Nico tells you, reframing his statement.

“Okay,” you mutter, accepting his rephrased sentence.

“Are you going to come with me?”

“No,” you mumble, sitting up straighter on the couch.

“Why not?”

Rolling your eyes you lock your phone, tossing it down next to you. “Nico, you know why. I’m not your girlfriend.”

“This is a big deal for me,” Nico exclaims, clearly already knowing you were going to put up a fight about this. “Just come with me as a friend then.”

“You don’t bring just a friend to that kind of event. I know that much,” you tell him.

Suddenly Nico is on his feet, pacing the length of your living room, making it halfway back before throwing his hands up in defeat. “You can’t just be there for me, support me, even once. I’m getting tired of this…whatever this is.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, his words hitting you hard. “I do, I do want to support, I promise.”

Just three days later you’re standing in a fitting room, pulling a dress onto your body. Stepping out of the room your eyes land on Nico, waiting for his reaction to this one. It was the fifth dress you had tried on, Nico telling you he liked all of them.

“I like it,” Nico says, his eyes roaming over your body.

Groaning loudly you turn towards the mirror, adjusting the dress slightly. “Why’d you even insist on coming if you’re not going to give me any input?”

“Because I’m buying it for you,” Nico tells you in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, though it would be pretty helpful for your grad student budget.

“I’m not arguing with you about this.”

“Me neither,” you reply, stepping back into the fitting room to try on another one.

Eventually you narrow it down enough that Nico finally gives his input, once he was simply picking between two dresses. At the till you try to pull your wallet out, Nico’s hand landing on your hands.

“I’m not letting you pay for it, Nico,” you whisper, trying to keep your disagreement out of ear shot of the sales attendant.

“Yes, you are. It doesn’t have to mean whatever you’re thinking, just let me buy the fucking dress,” Nico mutters, his voice carrying an unusually stern tone.

“Okay,” you whisper, eyes widening, stepping back as you watch Nico pull his wallet out and pay for the dress. He carries the bag for you, silence falling between you until you were outside, away from the sanctity of the boutique.

“What’s your problem?” you snap, standing next to Nico’s car, watching him set the bag down into the backseat.

“What?” Nico asks with a loud sigh, slamming the car door a little harder than necessary.

“I don’t know...you’re mad at me for not dating you and-.”

“I’m not mad at you for not dating me,” Nico interrupts. “I’m mad that we are dating and you refuse to admit it.”

“We’re not together,” you state definitively, arms crossed over your chest.

“Okay, whatever, then this is done,” Nico mutters, shaking his head. “Get in the car.”

“I want to go home,” you tell him, yanking the car door open.

“Well that’s where I’m taking you,” Nico grumbles, sliding into the driver’s seat of the car.

The drive back to your apartment is silent, your eyes focused directly ahead of you, the drive seeming longer than you had remembered. Nico pulls into the parking lot, turning the car around so that your side of the car was facing the door, something he had done since the first time he dropped you off at home. Opening the door you slip out, glancing back to find Nico handing you the bag with the dress.

“I don’t want the fucking dress, Nico. I’m not doing this anymore.”

He nods slowly, your words sinking in. “Well what am I going to do with it? Just take it.”

Sighing you reach over, taking the bag from him, knowing it would be easier than continuing to argue about it. “Alright, well,” you mutter, glancing around. “Goodbye…I guess.”

“Bye,” Nico replies, voice strained, eyes barely meeting yours.

You shut the door slowly, walk into your apartment even slower, knowing that if you really did leave it like that it was a big statement. A big statement you weren’t even sure you wanted to be making. But you keep going, till you’re up in your apartment and your eyes are filling with tears.

Your best friend Liv is at your apartment shortly after you tell her what had happened, with a couple bottles of wine and take-out.

“I just don’t get it,” Liv says, sitting on the couch with half a glass of red wine in her hand. “You like him, you two are always together, going on dates. Why won’t you just let him in? Make it official?”

Shrugging you swirl the wine around in your glass, swallowing heavily as another round of tears form in your eyes. “Because I said I wouldn’t, Liv. I promised myself, I would experience things, I would figure myself out before getting into a real relationship.”

“But you’re not doing that,” Liv points out. “You keep saying you don’t want anything serious but you’ve been, what, casually dating this guy for like a year and a half? When’s the last time you went on a date with anyone else?”

Shrugging you try to think back, try to remember the last time you actually even seriously entertained the idea of a date with another man. “I don’t know, last year, I guess.”

“When’s the last time you hooked up with anyone other than him?”

“Liv, I don’t know. It’s been awhile, I get it,” you exclaim, sighing loudly. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Liv asks, voice gentle and reassuring despite your outburst. “You’ve always been scared of getting hurt. But if you don’t let yourself be with someone you’re never going to even have the opportunity for what else could happen.”

“No,” you whisper, wiping away a few tears that had pooled under your eyes. “I’m scared that I pushed him away…for good this time.”

Liv reaches over, placing her hand on your leg. “You’ve been doing this for a year, I don’t think this has to be the last time…if you’re actually going to let him in this time. But if you’re not, if you’re still not ready, maybe it should be for good.”

Liv stays with you for most of the night, watching reality tv and finishing off the wine she had brought over. You didn’t talk much more about Nico, wanting to get your mind off of the situation for awhile, to let yourself calm down.

You contemplated reaching out to Nico. From hours after to days after. But you didn’t know what to say and he wasn’t saying anything either. So you didn’t say anything at all, till you were only a couple days away from the NHL Awards and all you could think about was Nico telling you that he wanted you to be there to support him.

Pulling your phone out you scroll through your contacts, finding the one you were looking for and pressing the call button.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, um, if I book a flight to Nashville and a hotel and everything can you bring me with you on Monday?”

“To the awards?”

“Yeah.”

“No. What the hell? You’ve been fucking with Nico’s feelings for so long and now you’re going to try to come with me instead?”

“No, that’s not what I mean, Jack,” you mumble, tears welling in your eyes. “I just…I want to be there for him, I can’t miss it, Jack, I can’t. I fucked up, I know I’ve been a shitty person to him and I don’t know how I can change that but I need to see him and I need him to know that I care and I don’t want to lose him and-.”

“Okay,” Jack exclaims, cutting you off. “Holy shit, yeah, okay, you can come. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, pulling your knees to your chest, staring across the living room at the dark TV, your reflection looking back at you. “I love him, Jack.”

“But you don’t want to be with him.”

“I do.”

“You need to tell him that then. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Thank you, Jack.”

“Of course. But you really need to figure this out with him because I can’t handle being in the middle of you two fighting.”

“I will.”

You woke up extra early the morning of the awards. Not on purpose, you had an entire day to get ready. But you were too anxious to stay asleep. So you pulled yourself out of bed and tried to spread out the process of getting ready through the day so you wouldn’t have much time to ruminate on everything alone in the quiet hotel room.

Finally you’re heading down the elevator after what felt like the longest day of your life to meet Jack out front on the way to the arena.

“You look good,” Jack tells you as you pull your seatbelt on, adjusting your dress.

“Thanks,” you whisper, your mind so preoccupied with Nico that you were barely registering anything that was happening around you.

When you get to the venue your stomach is churning with so much anxiety you begin to worry you might throw up. “I don’t know what to say to him,” you admit as you walk next to him.

“Sorry might be a good start.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, more to yourself than to anyone else. You force a few deep breaths into your lungs as you follow Jack, till you’re standing just a few feet away from Nico. When your eyes meet you can visibly see the confusion flash across his face, eyes darting between you and Jack.

“What?” Nico begins, Jack stepping back as he says it.

“I’m not getting in the middle of this,” Jack says, hurrying off in the other direction to leave you alone with Nico.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice shaky. “I’m so sorry, Nico. I shouldn’t have pushed you away so much. And maybe this is too little, too late, I don’t know, but I want to be here for you. You can tell me to go, I understand if you don’t want me here.”

“Of course I want you here,” Nico tells you, reaching over and taking your hand, tugging you closer. “I just can’t keep doing this. I want to be with you, I want this to be real and if not-.”

“I want that too,” you whisper, shaky fingers clutching at Nico’s arms.

“What? Why? Why now?” Nico asks, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Because I realized how stupid I’ve been. I was scared, I was holding onto this idea that I needed to figure something out before I let myself get into a relationship,” you tell him, trying so hard to come up with words that would explain everything, make everything okay. “I was waiting for something, some revelation or something, but I don’t even know what I was waiting for because I don’t want anything else, I just want to be with you and I’m sorry that I didn’t just accept that earlier. I shouldn’t have made you wait like this.”

Nico nods as he listens to your rambling explanation, watching your eyes welling with tears. When you finish talking Nico pulls you into him, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I would have waited as long as you needed.”

Sniffling you pull back, wiping away the tears from your eyes before they could roll onto your cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be crying like this,” you say with nervous laugh. “I, um, I don’t know what to do now…we’re here to celebrate you, how…where…what happens now?”

Nico chuckles quietly, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours gently. “Just stay with me, you don’t need to worry about anything else.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, taking Nico’s hand in yours, moving to his side. “I love you,” you whisper.

Nico glances down at you, his lips curling into a smile. “I love you too.”

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines

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jasntodds · 2 months

Text

Petrichor [19]

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

Words: 12,542

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, mention of abuse, mention of manipulation, mentions of death, mentions of canon characters deaths, mentions of drug use

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

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

A/N: We're almost done with season 3 and I am so excited!! You're all gonna hate me later lmao (again happy ending, promise) I have so many plans lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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You, Gar, and Rachel are sitting around the Lazurus Pit. Rachel has just finished giving Gar a pep talk about how she's able to do what she does out of love. Gar has been feeling a little bit like a letdown, unable to transform into different animals on command like he can as a tiger. The only times it's happened is when he's terrified, as if there's a block of fear in his head keeping him from transforming into anything else. You stay silent. You don't think Rachel is wrong. Gar could definitely change into other animals beyond being scared and maybe the answer is the love he has for all of the Titans and the love everyone has for him because everyone believes him. But, you're still stuck in your head wondering if that's always enough.

Right now, love doesn't seem like the thing that heals all wounds and makes everything better. It wasn't enough to keep Jason safe. It wasn't enough to keep him out of Crane's grasp. It wasn't enough to get Bruce to kill the Joker before he had his chance. It wasn't enough to bring Jason home. It wasn't enough for Rachel to bring Donna back. It wasn't enough for Sam to bring Jason back. It wasn't enough to keep the Titans at the tower. There have been so many things, especially lately, where it's just not been enough. Sometimes it's not enough so instead of being pessimistic about it, you stay quiet, looking at the pit and hoping it spits Dick out.

"You're quiet." Gar states, moving his attention to you.

"Oh, yeah." You shake your head, glancing back at him. "Just...waiting." You look back at Rachel. There's no guarantee this is going to work. You need another plan if it doesn't. You need another plan if it takes too long. "Do you think you could find the other Titans? Like...at some point tonight?"

"Yeah." Rachel nods her head. "I can feel their energy, too." Rachel's voice is soft.

"Well, that's good at least. Kory will know what to do." You let out a sigh, moving your stare back to the Pit.

"You don't think this is gonna work, do you?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I'm just trying to think ahead in case it doesn't or in case it takes a while. I mean, for all we know it takes a few days." You state just as the put starts bubbling. "Or...a few hours." You mutter as the three of you get to your feet, looking into the pit just as Dick's fist punches through the surface and he emerges from the thick and glowing liquid.

Dick starts to swim to the edge while you and Gar quickly meet him there to help pull him out. You both grab his arms, pulling at him until he's out of the pit and leaning back on his hands. He coughs up water just as Rachel kneels down beside him, you and Gar getting back to your feet. You and Gar exchange a look of disbelief as hope has the courage to start to fill your chests.

"Dick?" Rachel asks.

Dick manages to look at her, furrowing his brows in confusion before he falls back onto his back and passes out. Rachel looks back to Gar and you, as if one of you will know what just happened.

"What do we do?" Rachel asks.

"Is he breathing?" Gar asks with hesitance.

The three of you see Dick's chest rising and falling. This whole thing has been weird and it almost seemed like he drowned. Is there supposed to be more to do this? Or is he supposed to just...sleep off the effects and then he's just alive again? The three of you are completely confused by the entire situation.

"Yes." Rachel states.

"I guess we wait some more?" You question. "He's breathing so that's better than the alternative." You shrug your shoulders, wishing you would have pressed Jason to get some answers from Crane about him coming back.

But then Dick snaps back out of it, gasping himself awake as he shoots up. You and Gar both jump back slightly at the sudden movement and sound as if Dick is jumpscare in a bad horror movie.

"Rachel?" Dick gasps for breath, looking more confused than ever. "Gar?" Dick rushes, getting onto one knee. "Y/n?" Dick questions looking to you.

The last thing he remembers to be real is you and Jason kneeling above him, looking lost and panicked. Then there was everything in the pit which only leaves him with far more questions than answers, none of which he has time to get answers to right now. The Pit told him everything he needs to know to take down Crane. That's all that can matter right now if you're all going to save Gotham. He can deal with the rest later.

"It's okay now. You're safe." Rachel assures him. "Let us help you."

"Are you...alright?" Gar asks with worry.

"Yeah, dude. You like...died." You state with the scrunch of your nose, earning a light nudge from Gar.

"What...what happened down there?" Gar asks.

Dick breathes heavily, catching his breath and then completely avoids the question. "Crane can be stopped." Dick states, running a hand through his hair. "There's still time." Dick rushes, getting to his feet.

Dick starts to walk towards the exit as Rachel gets to her feet. He cannot possibly be serious. He just died and drowned and now he's just...going to stop Crane. Suddenly he has all the answers and he's going to go off on his own? He can barely even catch his breath.

"Wait. Dick, man, you need to rest." Gar rushes after him, the three of you right on Dick's heels.

Dick turns around, barely facing the three of them. "Anton and First Street. There's an abandoned control room. Find Conner. Make sure he's okay. Unite the Titans." Dick states in a hurry. "Y/n, with me, let's go." Dick rushes before he turns on his heels and starts darting down the hallway.

"Unite the Titans where?" Rachel calls after him.

"Take them to Donna." Dick states, not slowing down or stopping as he makes his way down the tunnel.

The three of you look between each other in confusion, trying to grasp any sort of explanation to no avail. Donna is supposed to be dead, according to Rachel. And he was in a Pit?

Dick calls your name from down the hall, his voice echoing over the bricks.

You shrug at the two of them. "Uh...alright. Good luck with that, I guess? I'll make sure he's not fucking insane." You state quickly, spinning on your heels before you jog down the hall to catch up to Dick.

You catch up to Dick who is walking a steady and quick pace, his head clearly thinking a hundred steps ahead. You eye him as you match his pace, walking right beside him. He just died? And then came back to life? There is no way in hell this man is just...fine with that. Of course, there are a lot of other things you all need to focus on, especially with him somehow knowing Crane can be stopped. There are more pressing matters than Dick's mental state at this exact point in time but that doesn't bring you any type of ease.

No one should die and then just be fine.

Jason sure as shit isn't. So, Dick can't be either.

Sam follows Dick out of the building, keeping up with him.

"We're going to meet Jason." Dick states flatly once the two of you exit the building.

"We're gonna what now?" You question, shaking your head. "And how do you expect we even find him?"

"He'll be here." Dick states, a confidence that should be reassuring consumes his voice.

How is he so sure about everything all of a sudden? The Lazarus Pit brings people back, and heals them, but...it can't possibly predict the future right? But, Dick also just said Donna is alive which means...if that's actually true the pit brings more than life back to someone. It brings some sort of clarity for things they otherwise shouldn't know. But if he's wrong that just means it's made him crazy which also means the pit did have some sort of lasting effect on Jason, too. This can't be good.

"How do you even know that?" You question, trying to figure out what is actually going on. If anything, he needs to slow down.

"He'll always go back to where it happened." Dick states.

What?

Your face scrunches in both annoyance and more confusion. You did this round-and-round question game with Jason, you're not doing it with Dick. He wants you to go and find Jason so damn bad, he can give you some clarity, too.

"What the shit with Donna being alive? How the fuck do you even know that?" You almost demand instead of asking.

"I just do." Dick says simply.

"That's not reassuring whatsoever." You mutter with more annoyance.

Dick glances down to you, seeing you grow frustrated. "The pit..." Dick says.

"Yeah, no I figured that out but you're not exactly giving out details here." You roll your eyes before you grab his arm to bring him to a stop. "Dude, seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Come on, we can't waste—" Dick starts as he continues walking.

"No, fuck that shit!" You yell, keeping up with him again. "You know, you batboys do that shit all the time. You guys say you're fine when you're not. You literally just fucking died, Dick. You can't just be fine after that. And you know if the three of you would just fucking talk about how not fine all of you are, we probably wouldn't be in this mess to begin with, right? Like that's your guys' entire fucking problem. I hate talking about my shit, too but I'm learning the more I admit how not fine I am the easier it is and I tend to feel a little bit better about it. The three of you are just fucking annoying about it and if you really think that's not your problem, you're being willfully ignorant and we both know that's not a very Nightwing thing to be." You finish with a scoff and the shake of your head.

And maybe a large part of your frustration is that neither of them seem to think they matter. They are sacrifices. Jason always thinks the world is simply better off without him and Dick thinks he's expendable. He can be the sacrifice for the greater good. It's why he's reckless and why he goes off on his own. Jason does the exact same thing. It's fine to them if they die. But, they leave these people in the wake of their deaths with paralyzing grief. This time it wasn't permanent for either of them but what happens when it is? It shouldn't be because they were reckless and decided to sacrifice themselves because they matter to people. The people who love them and they should be considered in all of this.

Dick glances down to you as you keep your eyes straight, jaw clenched tight. Dying is traumatic but you're right. They don't talk about it. Bruce never talked about anything so Dick wouldn't talk about anything and Jason never talked about anything. Batman and Robin could never be scared and they weren't allowed to let their emotions get in the way. Emotions cause blurriness and distractions. On the field, those things get you killed. But, he's not Robin. He's not with Batman. He just died as Nightwing.

"It was a lot." Dick manages to state.

"Yeah..." You say quietly.

"You almost died. I think you know." Dick says, still partially avoiding the question.

"Yeah, it was really scary and traumatizing." You state flatly because even though you were close, you did not die. He saved you. And Jason saved you. Close doesn't count here.

"Yeah." Dick keeps his word short. "I had to face some...challenges." Dick confesses, feeling the very core of his bones ache with guilt over the brutal beating of Jason even though it wasn't real in the pit. "It's hard to explain. It was a test or something." You look at him, seeing the look of distance and remorse dissolve over his face and you don't need to ask what kind of tests. "I understand Jason a little more now, him as Red Hood." Dick lets out a breath. "But I can't focus on what happened if we're going to stop Crane. "

You nod softly. "Right, yeah, got it." You let out a breath. "Your ability to compartmentalize is really something else but you should really deal with it after instead pushing it off." You say quietly, earning a glance from Dick. "Something else will always come up, you're Nightwing. You're a Titan. I'm just saying, look where we stand today like maybe it would have been different if things weren't always compartmentalized. Maybe you need to feel it sometimes."

The words almost catch you off guard. You've been running from your own pain for so long that you think that's your biggest issue. You run and it hurts you and the people that care about you. It's easier to not feel any of it but it makes being a person harder. There is blood on your hands and a part of you wonders if you had just let yourself grieve, maybe there wouldn't be. Maybe most of what happened between you and Jason after wouldn't have happened because you would have grieved. You would have felt all of it. Maybe had you stuck around after your mom died, let yourself just feel it, you wouldn't have ended up with Jerry. Maybe allowing the pain to bleed a little is how people heal from it. Let it scab over and let it mend itself over time with care and attention.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks. "You were there. You found Jason, you were there with Tim. This is a lot for you, too."

"Yeah..." You let out a sigh. "Like...I-I-I don't know. You're like this weird...weird brother I-I never really wanted or asked for and then you died. And that's just...I don't know. I fuck with you but I respect you and ya know?" You look up with honest eyes. "Kind of would suck a lot if you died permanently. You're like good at this and you're important to the Titans." You roll your shoulder, pulling in a heavy breath. "And to me." You mutter so quietly Dick nearly misses it.

"Thank you." Dick says. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." There's the smallest touch of sarcasm in his voice.

You manage to crack a smile. "Eh, don't get used to it, Dickolas. It's cause you died. Gotta be nice to you for at least an hour." Dick shakes his head but you see the subtle hint of a smile on his face. "Why are we going to find Jason anyway?"

"He'll know how to take out Crane and we need him on the inside. He wouldn't tell Crane he's against him, would he?" Dick asks.

"Doubt it." You scoff. "Jason is smart, methodical. He still wants Crane dead for what he did to me so he's not gonna let Crane think they're on different sides just so he can have the upper hand."

"Good. We find Jason and bring him with us. I have a plan." Dick states with urgency but offers no further explanation.

"Yeah...okay. So, uh, where do I come in? The mediator, still?" You almost laugh at the idea.

"No. You said Jason wanted to talk, let's talk. You're here because I need you with Jason."

While the idea of them talking is definitely enticing, you aren't completely convinced. Jason didn't pull the trigger this time but it is his fault Dick died. And given how Jason has been about Bruce who wasn't even in Gotham when Jason was killed, you can't help but feel a bit uneasy with Dick wanting to find Jason so soon after surviving the Pit.

"And how do we know you're not gonna kill Jason? I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want you to kill him and I'd fight like hell to make sure you don't. But...he did kind of just get you killed so you can see why I'm a little confused about you're kind of change of heart, I guess." You explain, eyeing him from the corner of your eye.

"You'll just have to trust me. I never wanted him dead. He was just giving us no choice." There's something almost sad that trickles into his voice while his expression gives nothing away.

"There's always a choice, Dick." You say quietly. "You can't say there isn't a choice when you yelled at me for killing and you're mad at Jason for killing. And you preached about how we can't be judge, jury, and executioner. There is a choice."

"Jason was going to kill all of us." Dick defends his stance, not acknowledging the hypocrisy of it all.

"So? And the ones we want dead will keep trying to kill other people. Or worse. Just because we, specifically, aren't their targets doesn't mean they get a pass. The innocent people that are their targets deserve the same amount of care and protection that we offer each other." You pull in a breath, feeling Dick move his stare to you. "We clearly didn't have to kill him, is my point."

This is the most Dick has gotten out about your motive. It's more than it being about the kids left behind. It's the bigger picture. That there is a choice and sometimes it's a bad choice and a hard choice but one that means, in your head, protecting the greater good in the same way Dick wants to protect the Titans. It doesn't mean he agrees with you, but he does see your point of view for once.

"Do you disagree with going after Jason?"

"No." You answer plainly. "I'm just incredibly loyal to him. If it were anyone else, they'd be dead. And I understand that's a bit hypocritical given what I just said. That's why circumstances and background are important when making the decision to kill someone." You shake your head. "I know him. I know him being a cold-blooded killer isn't him. Background matters."

"You're right it does. I do not want him dead." Dick offers a sincere nod towards you before it falls silent between you.

You finally reach the spot from last night where Dick was killed. Dick finds the Red Hood helmet, picks it up and takes it along with him. There's a puddle of blood still on the pavement that makes your stomach twist. It's as if blood stains everything it touches.

You're still unconvinced Jason will be here like Dick says. He's not psychic all of a sudden. But, you stay with him anyway, hoping you run into Jason and of course, you do. Somehow, Dick is right about this. Jason is yelling that Red Hood is back as he fires a gun into the air.

"Jason...it's okay." Dick calls, getting Jason's attention as he spins around quickly. His face is still covered in blood and cuts from the fight the night before. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, this can't be right. "It's me."

He knows the three of you took Dick to the Pit but there is a part of him that still can't believe it worked. Watching the life literally leave someone's body only for them to be alive the following day, that's more than unsettling. It feels wrong. It's the same wrong feeling Jason gets any time he gets a moment of silence and can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

But he is relieved to see Dick walking and alive. The feeling of it being wrong, is just the echo in his own bones. Dick should be the one alive. If the Pit were to work on anyone and offer someone a second chance, it should be Dick.

"It worked?" Jason questions, almost losing the breath from his lungs with the words. His eyes land on you as if you're the only one who can confirm if this is real or not.

You nod once. "Yeah, it did."

"You knew?" Dick asks.

Jason nods. "Rachel said that's where Gar was taking you." Jason explains as his eyes start to grow glassy, the guilt thundering through his bones once more.

"We don't have much time. I need your help." Dick cuts the conversation short, knowing they can't discuss this now but he's getting the idea maybe Jason did just want to talk. He looks hurt and relieved to see him and you.

You, on the other hand, are still uneasy. Dick isn't giving you any indication that this is going to go sideways but you feel yourself grip a knife from your belt anyway. This can't go sideways again. You all working on different teams has not helped fight Crane but working together should. Crane, at the very least, won't see it coming. You just don't want to see anyone else close to you die again.

"You want me to help you?" Jason asks, stretching his arms out at his sides in disbelief. He can't help. Not after what he's become. "I'm a fucking murderer."

"You know how Crane is operating. You know how he thinks." Dick starts. "He needs to be stopped or a lot more people are gonna die." Dick pauses for just a second. "You want redemption?" Dick asks as Jason hangs his head. "Do you?" Dick asks more firmly this time. "This is the first step."

Of course he wants redemption for the harm he's caused but his methods now do not align with Dick's. He's almost gotten them killed and he did kill Hank. He betrayed them. How is he supposed to go back now and help? After everything? After what he's become? It sounds hopeless and he almost lets his pity get the best of him until his eyes meet yours.

"We need your help, Jay." You plead with him.

Jason shakes his head. "You can't stop him." Jason answers with defeat rather than snark. He genuinely believes Gotham is lost to Crane. "He's got everything. The police, the Batcave. He's gonna take the whole fucking city down!"

"How?" Dick asks more in a way that sounds like a demand.

"You think I know?" Jason scoffs. "He doesn't tell me shit."

"Jay? You have to know something. You've been with him this entire time and you wanted to talk to Dick last night. You know something." You urge, practically begging him to just say something.

He told you once that he remembers everything. Crane slipped somewhere and all Jason has to do is remember. Think of whatever the hell Crane said that might be a clue.

Jason hangs his head as tears start to come to his eyes. "It was all crazy shit." Jason pauses for a second. "Like waves of anger and fear. The bright and darkened lands of the Earth. Something about an attack you and Bruce stopped a long time ago." Jason states, looking at Dick with confusion knowing Bruce never told him.

"Years ago, Crane sent a poem to Jim Gordon with clues about an attack on Gotham. A chain of explosives to release his fear toxin. We stopped him before he had the chance to set it off. Bruce took Crane's weapons and put them in the Gotham Armory to study them."

"And Crane's in the Batcave." Jason finishes. "So, he knows where those weapons are."

"And so do we now." Dick states as he extends Jason's helmet out to him. "We need to go."

Jason puts the pistol back in the holster on his leg. "So, I'm a Titan again?" Jason asks.

"No, you'll never be a Titan again." Dick states before he closes the distance between them, offering his helmet. "But, you can help us save Gotham."

Jason eyes the helmet as the feeling of being lost hits him like a ton of bricks. He never really fit in being a Titan anyway but...something about the confirmation that even if he were to change back to who he was before, it's over, really hits him. It's something he can't come back from. That part of his life, Robin, is gone. It's lost to the darkness. The Joker took it from him. Crane took it from him. The one thing he thought made him who he is, is shattered with so many of his hopes. It's lost and gone and Jason can't help but feel alone and lost now.

But, feeling that way got him here in the first place so he takes the helmet from Dick.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me?" Jason asks.

"Because now I know what it's like to die." Dick answers harshly.

Jason's eyes glance to you and then back to the helmet in his hands. It's more guilt. It's always guilt that comes back like the bladed boomerang. Jason knows firsthand what it's like to die, too and that didn't stop him. That was never a reason for him to stop. It doesn't matter that he was drugged and manipulated because, to Jason, Dick's reason should have been enough. It doesn't matter that the drug removed his guilt and his fear and the feeling of being haunted and stalked by something dark and twisted. He should have known better and he put death on Hank anyway. He lead Dick to getting killed.

He should have known better than to go after the people who actually cared about him. He knows what it's like to die and Dick does, too. To Jason, that should give Dick enough reason to kill him and yet...he doesn't and he seems sincere.

"Fine." Jason agrees reluctantly. "How can I help?" Jason asks letting out a steady breath as he nods his head.

"Come on. I've got a car around the block. We're going to break into the vault." Dick says casually as he starts walking past Jason.

Jason looks at you before you roll your eyes, trailing after Dick, Jason falling in line with you. The two of you follow Dick to the car he, for some reason, just has. You and Jason can only assume it's from last night. He had to get to Jason some way. Jason takes the passenger seat while you sit in the back, sitting right in the middle. Dick starts the drive while Jason is stuck in the car with his brother. This is not the ideal situation.

"Do you want to explain any of this?" Dick asks after a few minutes of silence. "How we got here?"

"Not really." Jason quips back with frustration looking out the window. He's not even entirely sure where to start. It all feels like this started so long ago and maybe in a way it did. Maybe it started that day he stole the hubcaps. Maybe he should have listened to Dick and you about Bruce. "After fucking everything, I just can't believe Bruce couldn't fucking kill the Joker." Jason lets out a scoff. "He fucking beat me to death with a fucking crowbar and Bruce just...fucks off somewhere." Jason scoffs again, barely able to hide the crack in his voice.

The car falls dead silent as Dick glances in the rearview mirror at you before you lean forward in between the boys. You and Dick are on the verge of exploding. This really cannot be Jason's entire motive. How the hell doesn't he know? You look at Jason who's giving you a confused and annoyed expression. You look back to Dick who is clearly trying to figure out how he's supposed to burst this bubble without it leading to another fistfight.

"I got it." You state before looking to Jason. "Who exactly do you think killed the Joker?" You blink at him with your brows raised, really hoping Jason's motive is not entirely linked to this little bit of information.

Jason eyes you, looking to the side and then back at you. The look you're giving him with Dick glancing at him has him feeling like Crane may have lied to him about that, too. But, Bruce wouldn't throw his morals away, right? Not for someone like Jason. Not for Jason. Bruce didn't kill the Joker.

"Uh...Crane said it was one of the prisoners who dressed like the Bat?" Jason lets out a scoff, playing it off in hopes this conversation is not going where he thinks it's going.

You look back at Dick who looks like he might have an aneurysm. Jason has been deadset on his new form of justice which you agree with but...if he thinks Bruce didn't kill the Joker for him, maybe that's his motive. You always felt his hatred towards Dick was just some weird rivalry amplified by Crane but if Jason thought no one avenged him...maybe that's it. You almost cringe at the idea of having to burst his bubble.

"You hear it, right?" You ask Jason as you look back at him. "Like..." You pause, scrunching your nose. "Crane, inmate dressing as the Bat."

There is no fucking way Bruce actually killed someone, the Joker, for Jason.

"Did....did Bruce actually do it?" Jason huffs as if he expects you and Dick to be messing with him as some sort of cruel payback or even to get him back on the "good" side.

"Walked into my room with a bloody crowbar." Dick states.

He cannot believe of all lies for Jason to believe from Crane, he had to believe that one. Crane is a manipulative asshole who's had Jason drugged and under his thumb ever since coming back, but how does Jason actually believe this? Even though Bruce has always been completely against murder in any instance, Jason should have known it was a lie. All of Gotham knows it was actually Batman.

"He actually did it?" Jason asks but this time, there's a sense of shock and remorse in his voice.

Every single part of him should feel relieved that Bruce would do this for him. Bruce Wayne, Batman, the same guy who has preached about not being judge, jury, and executioner, killed someone for him. Bruce killed The Joker for beating Jason to death and Jason should feel relieved and thankful but instead, he just feels guilty. Maybe wanting Bruce to avenge his death was never the thing he really wanted.

"Yeah, Jay." You nod your head, your voice quiet and sad. "Fuck Bruce, but I told you he loved you."

"Fuck." Jason lets out a groan, resting his head back on the headrest. "I really fucking thought he wouldn't do it."

Jason always thought Bruce would never break that moral code. He said it would be too easy to keep going. It's always just that one and then there would be another who's just as bad. The lines would start to blur and he wouldn't be able to stop. But, Jason did think if he ever were going to break it, it would have been for Dick, not Jason. He had no idea he actually meant that much to Bruce and now Bruce up and leaving Gotham without a trace makes sense. It wasn't that Crane drove him away or some sort of hideaway until things cooled down after losing his son. It was the grief of it all. The blame Bruce has to feel, knowing he led Jason into the road of Robin.

"Was that your only motivation for this?" Dick questions, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Of course not." Jason sneers. "But...it didn't help." Jason grits his teeth. "I don't fucking know." Jason crosses his arms, not more aggravated over the whole thing than ever.

Crane took everything from him. And Jason trusted him.

"It's okay if you're mad at him for not saving you and thinking he didn't avenge your death." You state softly. "But now you know."

"I'm not though." Jason states as he nearly cuts you off, catching you both off guard. "I'm not fucking mad at him for not saving me." Jason's voice trails off. "I...fuck it. Forget it, alright? Crane lied to me about that, too and here we are." Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head before turning to look out his window.

Dick always felt like Jason was the type to hold a grudge, get unreasonable mad about things beyond his control. But, in the time since the tower, he got to know him better, finding out that wasn't entirely true. Jason's statement just now proves that. It was never about Bruce not saving him or even avenging him. It was him being alone. Thrown to the side the second things started to get messy. It was always about him feeling abandoned and less than, not good enough.

And you can see that, too.

You look to Dick and for once, Dick looks worried. "Don't worry," You start, earning a look from Jason. "I'll kill Crane for you." You offer him a soft smile that almost makes Jason laugh.

"Really?" Dick questions with annoyance.

"Don't pretend like you don't want him dead." You chortle.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs. "He's too good for it." Jason nearly chortles with you just to mock Dick.

"Hey!" Dick challenges. "Crane is bad, he just needs to remain locked away."

"No, you want him dead." You nod your head. "He killed your brother, drove your adoptive dad away, almost killed me, killed Hank, has been actively trying to get you killed for two weeks, and turned all of Gotham against the Titans. You want him dead. I can tell."

"You got a fucking sixth sense for right now?" Jason quips, this time actually letting a laugh slip from the bottom of his lungs.

"No." You chortle. "Dick isn't as stern when he talks about not killing Crane. He always has this look about killing being wrong and he always says the same thing, he doesn't do either with Crane."

"He's just a bad person." Dick defends himself, not even wanting to humor your theory behind this.

"No shit, man." Jason huffs. "I fucking died and he probably set the whole thing up."

"So did I." Dick states back.

"Gar died, you both died, Donna died and all of you came back. We all just taking turns? Where should I stand in line?" You quip with the intention of not letting them even start an argument.

"Not funny." Jason and Dick say at the same time, making themselves grimace.

You burst into a fit of laughter. "I told you, Jay. You two--"

"Shut the fuck up." Jason hits his head on the back of the headrest, closing his eyes. The last thing he wants to hear is that him and Dick even have one similarity but his voice isn't harsh and there might even the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips.

You lean back in your seat with the shake of your head and a gentle smile. This is going to eat at him for a while but you hope Bruce will come back. Maybe after you take out Crane, Dick will be able to find him and him and Jason can go get him. Maybe Jason getting to see Bruce after all of this will ease some of his guilt. You've had talks about it. You know him being fooled into thinking Bruce didn't avenge him isn't his entire motive. Jason always felt like Bruce could do more and this is doing more. It doesn't make it easy for him or make him feel better, but you know there's always more to Jason's motives than something surface-level.

Once you get to the armory, the three of you enter with ease. There are no guards this time. There's no one even here, just the three of you which allows you to walk right up to the vault. The entire city is in a bit of chaos, using up any force that might have been here. It's not ideal for everyone else, but it is definitely beneficial to you, Jason, and Dick right about now.

You reach the vault door where Jason takes the lead, lining the door with a sort of liquid that then ignites and breaks the seals of the door, fire almost engulfing the door until it hits the floor. Jason is the first one to step inside, his gun pointed forward with a flashlight on top. You follow right behind him with your own flashlight and then Dick.

"Let's go." Dick says once he gets in front of you and Jason, leading the way to case you need.

Dick opens the case only for nothing to be inside besides a book called Collected Poems by Will Auden.

"I don't get it. There's supposed to be like two hundred ampules." Jason states with frustration. "What the fuck is that?"

Dick reaches forward and grabs the book. "Bright and darkened lands of the Earth." Dick states, looking at the book.

You and Jason look between each other and then back to Dick. Of all things for Dick to understand, a random book of poems is the thing he understands. Of course, he does.

"What are you talking about?" Jason asks.

"Crane's poem." Dick states as he opens the book, flipping to somewhere in the middle. "His war on Gotham."

Jason snatches the book back, you looking over his arm to see the page Dick opened.

"Fuck." Jason groans.

Crane's already beat you here. It has to be some sort of gloat thing he's doing, like he's already two steps ahead of you. He's been two steps ahead this whole time and his war on Gotham is now in full swing. What are you all supposed to do if you can't locate the bombs and disable them? What if Crane is already out there ready to blow up the city?

"What are we supposed to do now?" You ask, looking up to Dick.

Dick pauses for a second, looking to the empty case and then back to you and Jason. "Let's go. I have an idea." Dick says quickly before he turns and heads towards the exit.

The three of you head back to the car, taking back your seats as Dick immediately starts driving. You're watching him and you're fascinated by how quickly Dick can change directions. Not a single part of you is surprised but you are fascinated by it. He was trained by Batman. To be out there, as a vigilante, you have to know how to pivot immediately. Dick is really good at it. So, is Jason. It's something the two of them have in common. The ability to adapt to anything and everything, even when everything is covered in bloody chaos.

"One poem, multiple bombs." Dick starts. "Clues to where the bombs are are placed in the poems."

"What's the plan?" Jason asks, his stare on Dick hoping Dick does actually have some sort of backup plan.

"Find some supers and stop the bombs from going off." Dick says it almost casually as if it's something so simple and easy.

"Titans?" Jason scoffs. "What are they gonna do when they see me?"

Jason knows there is no way the Titans are going to welcome him back with open arms and trust him just because Dick and you say he's safe now. Gar might but Kory, Conner, and Rachel won't. He's been actively targeting them and he killed Hank. They're not just going to forget that and move on like nothing happened. They'll likely try and kill him the second they see him at this point. He got Dick killed.

"They're not." Dick states, revving the engine before pulling over at a curb.

"What's going on?" Jason asks once the car is stopped.

"Get out." Dick states.

"Out?" Jason asks, hurt covering his voice.

"I can't bring you back to the Titans. It'll cause a war." Dick explains. "But I do need you."

"So, I'm your dirty little secret?" Jason quips.

"You want to help us, this is the way it's gonna be. I can only fight one war at a time."

You remain silent, not daring to get in the middle of the two of them. It's the smart decision because there's no way everyone will trust him. Everyone will start fighting and arguing and nothing will get done. Crane will win just because there's a fight between the Titans, which is probably what he wants anyway. It might hurt Jason, but it is the only way this can even work.

"When do you need me?" Jason agrees with a bit of reluctance in his voice.

"If you don't hear from me before, meet me back here in three hours. Got it?" Dick asks.

"Yeah." Jason says quietly.

"You, too." Dick looks back at you.

"Why do I have to get out?" You let out a scoff as Jason quickly looks back at you, wondering what you did this time to piss off the rest of the Titans.

"Safety, precautions, you two work well together." Dick states. "Three hours."

"Got it." You nod your head once before you exit the vehicle with Jason.

Once your doors are shut, Dick drives off. You look over to him and Jason dodges your stare, looking to the side. It's the shame that's eating at him. Falling for all of Crane's lies, getting Dick killed, having to be kept a secret. He was once a Titan and now they can't know he's even helping. Instead, Dick has you here because you work well together, sure, but also to make sure Jason doesn't back out of it. He's not even mad because he'd do the same thing but it hurts and he feels so painfully guilty for everything. He's destroyed everything.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head to the right. "Safe house is close." Jason starts walking, helmet in hand while Sam follows him.

The silence between you builds like a sturdy brick wall. It's in the silence that you have time to process everything. It's always the silence that acts as a marinade for all things fueled with anger and misery. Dick might be alive and Jason might be alive but Jason is the reason Dick died in the first place. He could have stopped. For two seconds, Jason could have called a truce and he didn't and Dick died for it. There never would have been a crowd. The kid with the gun wouldn't have been there and Dick wouldn't have gotten shot. Jason didn't pull the trigger, but he didn't have to. Dick stood there and told Jason the reason Dick won't kill him is because he knows what it's like to die. Well, so does Jason so why the fuck didn't Jason take that into consideration?

You know it was the drug but it bites and gnaws at you anyway because watching everyone you care about die is hacking away at you.

"You alright?" Jason finally asks. You being completely silent never sits quite well with him. There is nothing that sounds more deadly than your silence in moments like these.

"I don't know, Jay. I just watched Dick die and come back to life. What the fuck do you think?" You snap without processing your thought.

"The fuck you mad at me for now?" Jason snaps back. "I didn't pull the fucking trigger. I went there to talk." Jason barks, really not wanting to be reprimanded at the moment. He knows.

"You know what? You might as well have, Jason." You snap, your steps becoming harder against the pavement. "You could have stopped at any point and told him you just wanted to talk and explain it but you didn't. Not one part of you decided to do that. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why. So, Dick was killed because of that. You didn't do it. But that kid thinks he did the right thing to protect you. Dick wasn't even the enemy. So, that's shit." You let your own anger get the best of you, not even to tear him a part for it but just because you need to yell about it.

"It's not my fucking fault." Jason groans. "I didn't ask anyone to do that." Jason defends himself, knowing he's wrong.

"You don't have to!" You finally yell. "People will follow you like a damn cult because you command attention when you walk into a room. You are charismatic and enthralling. They have always been some of your best qualities but in this instance, it wasn't good. They believe in you, Jay." You look back over to him as Jason hangs his head, watching his feet hit the wet pavement. "But, Crane turned the city against the Titans, to follow you." You look forward as you shake your head. "I know I told you to work with him, but it didn't have to get to you and Dick fighting and him dying. It never had to end that way. You could turn them back to the right side." Your voice goes quiet with your last sentence earning you a glance from Jason.

"I didn't think he'd listen, alright? He was the one that set up the flash bang and came in ready for a fight. I didn't think it was any use and I didn't know those fucking people would be there. I..." Jason swallows his own words, not wanting to get into it.

You being willing to die for him is one thing. He hates it. He'd never let you if he could help it, especially having experienced what it's like to die. He would never. But, you love him. You have seen him at his good and bad. You've seen everything in between. Jason has fully exposed all of himself to you in every way anyone possibly could. And you would die for him. You would kill for him. No questions asked because you know Jason Todd better than he knows himself half the time. But these random people? They don't know him. Why the fuck would they kill someone for him? Why would they do that?

"I'm sorry, alright?" Jason's voice comes back down. "I know. I could have fucking done something and I didn't." Jason's saw clenches. "I'm fucking trying." His words are firm but there's a hopelessness in them.

"I know." You say quietly.

"I have a lot to make up for and I don't know if I'm gonna be able to do but I promise, I'm trying. I just...fucked it up." Jason's breath leaves his lips, the fog coming out in a haunting blow.

"I know...I just..." You shake your head. "I'm just really worried about all of you, all the time. You, Gar, Dick. You guys are the closest people to me besides Molly and I just...you're very important to me and this could be something so good and it was." You suck in a breath, the cold air starting to dry out your throat. "And I think we all deserve it. The Titans."

"Yeah..." Jason's shoulders slouch forward. "You do." Jason says quietly, keeping his stare ahead him even as you look over to him.

You've always deserved better than anything Gotham has given you. All this city has done is take everything you care about. And you only even started killing because of him. Even when Jason knows there's more to it, that was your breaking point. You're not shunned from being a Titan and maybe that'd be better for you.

"If you want to be a Titan after all of this, you should." Jason states in his way where he tries to sound really casual to hide his real feelings.

You snap your attention back to him. "Why would I do that?" You nearly scoffs at the very idea, especially coming from him.

"You're good at it and you like it. They like you and you fit in." Jason answers with ease, as if it were something he'd thought about more than a few times. "Why trap yourself here if you don't have to?"

It's as if the air is being pulled from your lungs by rusty hooks. How could he say that? He's here. Home is here. Molly is here. It's not a trap being in Gotham. Coming back, coming home, was a choice you made all on your own and not a single ounce of you even regrets it. You can't regret it. You got to reunite with Molly and while it has been agonizing lately, you had some of your best and favorite moments with Jason here. You got to make a different life again. It felt like home again. Here. Not in San Francisco. Why would he tell you to be a Titan?

"You want me to be a Titan?" You ask, doing your best to hide the hurt in your voice.

"Not up to me." Jason shrugs his shoulders casually, still keeping his stare away from you.

"That's not what I asked." You bite back, keeping your stare on him.

Jason looks back over to you as you reach the building. Jason opens the door for you, leading you in first before he shuts and locks the door behind you. You stand directly in front of him so he can't move once the door is shut. He doesn't get to avoid this conversation when he's the one that brought it up. If he wants you to leave, then he can tell you and then deal with the fact you will not.

"Answer me." You demand.

Jason looks to the right before looking back at you. He always thought you would anyway. After everything, it only makes sense to him for you to leave. You said San Francisco caused you so much pain that you didn't want to be there anymore. But, Gotham has caused you so much pain, you're not even the same person you were a month ago. He doesn't want you to leave but he wants you to be happy and he worries that just won't be here. Not with the track record.

"I always thought you would." Jason shrugs as his voice almost trails off.

"Because?" You search as your brows furrow. "What? I'd get bored of you? Tired of you?" Your eyes scan his face, knowing all of his insecurities. He can't hide from you like he can with everyone else.

Jason looks to the ground and back to you with the shrug of his shoulders. "No." Jason answers. "You didn't come back for me. Thought you'd figure it out and just...go back."

You narrow your eyes. "That's not the full reason." You say softly. "Tell me."

Jason shifts his weight, favoring his bad leg as it starts to ache. He shakes his head with defeat. "Just want you to be happy." Jason says honestly. "This place is fucking shit and you know it. And you hate Bruce but you don't wanna give this up. Bruce doesn't like other vigilantes in the city and..." Jason's heart breaks as he watches your expression fall. "Yeah, I thought you'd leave." Jason nods his head.

"Jay, I told--"

"Because I died." Jason cuts you off with a scoff. "That day on the roof, I fucking destroyed you. I died and it completely destroyed you. When you found out about the drug and Crane, then everything else, I thought you'd fucking leave."

"Yeah," You nod quickly as your eyes turn glassy. "It did destroy me. The whole damn thing hurt but that doesn't mean I want to leave. It doesn't mean I want to be a Titan." Your voice is almost pleading with him to not push without you ever saying it. "This is my home and Molly is here and my mom is buried here and you are here. I don't care if we're not together, you're here. The city is a shitshow so it needs us. It needs us and Batman to help."

"Are you sure?" Jason questions. "I mean, look at this place. I just want you to be happy. I don't fucking know."

You let out a sigh. "You didn't answer the question." You state as Jason opens his mouth. "I asked if you wanted me to. You just said you always thought I'd leave."

Jason shakes his head. "Of course not." Jason lets out a scoff, not even trying to lie or dodge it anymore.

"Good cause I'm not leaving, Jay." You nod your head. "I was always happiest here with you." Your words are barely above a whisper as you look to the floor. "So," You pull in a breath. "You don't have that to worry about. I was gonna stay anyway, no plans to leave again. Tired of running." Your voice turns airy, almost hopeful with your last sentence.

"I don't get you." Jason lets out a laugh that's filled with relief.

"Yeah, you do." You laugh softly. "You're the only one whoever did." You shrug your shoulders, moving past him to the stairs. "You know, you and Dick could probably bond over your whole dying experience now. Probably bring you closer." You offer with sarcasm earning a groan and then a laugh as Jason walks over to you.

"Oh, yeah? We sit down for a family dinner at the manor and tell Bruce all about it? Like a fucking field trip?" Jason quips right back as the two of you make your way upstairs.

"Yeah!" You laugh. "Hear me out, it might freak Bruce out which would be funny."

Jason shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "Us getting along? Yeah, that'll freak Bruce out."

You nudge him lightly. "That'll freak everyone out, actually."

The two of you go upstairs into Jason's makeshift bedroom. You head over to the window to look at the people down below. Everyone is fending for themselves and there are still fires in the streets. There aren't any cars this time. There are always cars.

You lean against the wall and slide down, keeping your head turned towards the window as Jason keeps his distance, watching you closely as he traps himself in his own head again. While you have been on Jason's side, you've also actively been trying to make sure the Titans are at a distance and safe from Jason. You can say you've always been on Jason's side this whole time and maybe that's true, but you also were entirely in the middle. It was never Titans or Jason for you. You were always determined to cut the wire. It was always going to be all of them even if it killed you.

Jason remembers you willing to die for him, how terrifying that was. No one in his entire life was ever willing to do that. Maybe Bruce would have but it's something Jason isn't sure of. He was sure of you. Deathstroke proved that and you confirmed it that night. You would die for him because you love him and Jason always thought that was absurd, even if he'd die for you, too. Dying for you seemed to be the easiest thing he would do if it came to it. But you dying for him? Insane. It had to be insanity but these past two weeks have taught him something else entirely.

You would just die for anyone you loved if that's what it took.

There is not a doubt in Jason's mind that you would put your life in danger for Gar. Of course, you would. He's Gar. Everyone would probably do it. There's Molly and Jason actually feels bad for anyone who would even think of coming after her. You'd die for Tim because of course you would. You care about him and Tim is determined and smart. Krypto is no question. You loved Donna and thought she was the coolest Titan, that's easy. You thought Kory was one of the coolest and most badass people you'd ever met while also being immensely kind. You told Jason once that the Titans need her. So, you'd die for her, too. Jason isn't entirely sure of the big reason you'd save Conner or Dawn or Hank but he knows you would. And then there's Dick. You'd save Dick because he's the leader. Because he saved your life. Because you look up to him. Because he's important to everyone.

It's not that you would die for Jason. It's that you would die for anyone you love if it ever came to it. Jason would be lying if he said he doesn't admire that. Though, he wonders if that's what will be your last straw or if you'll understand one day that you shouldn't have to die for the people you care about. Jason swore he'd die for you. That part was easy but the more time that passes, the more he's realizing he wants to live for you. Living is harder. He hopes you learn that, too. You deserve to want to live for someone and for yourself.

"What's with the symbol?" You snap Jason from his thoughts.

"What?" Jason questions, almost doing a double take.

"The rip off bat symbol. Your idea or Crane's?" You ask bluntly as your eyes dart between his and the red symbol on his chest.

Jason looks down to his chest where the red symbol stares up at him. "Mine." Jason chuckles softly, a devilish grin pushing itself onto his lips. "Why?" He asks and he walks over to the other side of the window from you, sliding down the wall and matching your position.

You let out a soft laugh as you shrug. "Funny that's what you would pick given you thought he didn't kill the Joker for you." You pull in a breath. "Why?"

Jason shrugs. "Fuck Bruce." Jason answers easily as if the answer were so simple anyone could have figured it out, as if he isn't neglecting the entire explanation.

The bat symbol represents Bruce's way of thinking. Inciting fear into the hearts of everyone so they don't do bad things. It works, sometimes. But, it doesn't work enough. The bat symbol represents a certain moral compass where even under the worst of circumstances, killing is still wrong. It represents Bruce. Jason wanted something to almost mock him, a fuck you and watch this to Bruce. Fear doesn't always work. It's not the best way. For Jason, he needed something to spite Bruce, prove his methods will be better because there should never be another Jason. Or Dick. Or any of them. No one should have to suffer the way all of them have. It was to represent everything Bruce refused to do for the greater good.

But Bruce did kill The Joker so Jason feels lost.

But then you offer this warm smile, one that says you understand every single thought in his mind without him ever having to explain.

"Yeah..." You sigh softly. "Fuck Bruce." You laugh softly. "I like it, by the way. Bruce only killed him for you. He never would have under any other circumstances." You pause before you tilt your head to the left quickly, raise your brows. "Well, he might have for Dick, too. But, it would have to be one of you. So...good for you, Jay." You nod your head softly.

"Don't think it's fucked?" Jason chortles.

"Oh, no it definitely is." You nod quickly. "I mean, just when I think I've got some daddy issues, I meet you and Dick. It's definitely fucked. But, like it anyway." You smile but Jason doesn't quite match it. There's a sadness washing itself over his face. "I think Gotham will like it, too." You say quietly.

"Yeah? Why?" Jason repositions, pulling his right leg to his chest. "Because I'm charismatic and enthralling?" A touch of a grin finds itself on his lips.

"Fuck you, no." You laugh softly. "They're brainwashed but...I think it took one video because you've already been out there controlling the drug trade, looking to get into guns. You've taken out some really terrible people and are trying to get this shit under control. They already liked you."

"I also helped get a drug onto the streets and contributed to everything with Crane." Jason points out.

"Yeah, but you've been distancing yourself and you also tried to save Nightwing. I mean, you tried to kill him, too but you just tried to save him and they'll remember that. They'll figure out Crane brainwashed them and see you were also brainwashed."

"I guess we'll see." Jason lets out a scoff. "But, thanks." Jason offers you a nod.

"Just being honest." You pull in a breath as you move your stare back to the window. "You gonna keep Red Hooding after this is over then?" You look back at him with hopeful eyes.

Jason shrugs. "Yeah, maybe." Jason nods his head softly. "Especially with Bruce fucking MIA." Jason gives you a soft smile. "You gonna keep this shit up?"

"Absolutely." You nod with confidence. "You're right, I do like it. The vigilantism, I mean." Your smile turns kind and loving. "You're a good Red Hood. You're gonna help a lot of people, Jay." Your smile is warm and honest, filling Jason's entire chest with hope.

"So are you." Jason matches the smile before the two of you look to the window, falling into a comfortable silence.

You get a text from Dick, apparently, the towers are back and running which is a relief but according to his text, Crane released some of his smoke downtown. He leaves the text with a warning for you and Jason to stay where you are until the smoke dies down or until he says otherwise. So, the two of you seem to be stuck here for the night.

You're safe here, entirely. You don't have to worry about the smoke or anyone coming to kill you. You're safe from it all for the first time in weeks and it's as if, weirdly as it is, you both can breathe freely. It doesn't feel like your very breath can shatter the illusion of peace. You both are allowed to breathe freely and openly.

You let your mind wander anywhere but to the disaster outside. The more you're in these situations, the more you're learning to compartmentalize it. There is no choice in this. It has to be done otherwise it'll eat you. You wonder how Dick is able to do it so well. Surely that's how he's so good at being Nightwing. He isn't heartless, he just shelves what he needs to until after a mission. It's something you need to be better at and so you sit here tonight and try to do it. You focus on anything but the disaster.

And then there's Jason who finds his mind going to your previous conversation a few minutes ago. You think he can be a hero again. He can use Red Hood for good, do it his own way. He lifts his head, looking over at you and how peaceful you look. You really do trust him. You really do just believe in him, after everything, there's something in you that believes in him even when you absolutely should not.

Jason keeps his eyes on you, wondering if you're right. He hopes you are. Jason just wants to help. That's what he wants to do. That's all he's wanted to do. That was supposed to be the plan before Crane showed his true motive. Jason wants to help the innocent people Bruce overlooks. Sex workers, sexual assault victims, domestic violence survivors, children who are put in all of these situations. A lot of them never make it onto Bruce's radar. He's busy dealing with everything else and a lot more of it happens in places like Crime Alley, somewhere Bruce doesn't go unless it's the anniversary of his parents' death. Someone needs to keep them safe, too. He wants to control the crime because he does believe that's the right way. No one can stop crime. That's impossible. But, Jason thinks he can control it. It's worth a shot. Someone needs to try. That's what he wants to do.

Maybe he can do it.

"I can feel you staring at me, Jay." You state as you look back over at him.

"Sorry." Jason mutters, feeling heat rush over his cheeks as he looks back outside.

"What's going inside that head of yours?" You ask.

Jason looks back to you, letting a beat pass before he settles on what to say. "Thanks for believing in me and being here." Jason pulls in a breath.

"Always." You say softly before it goes quiet again.

Time ticks by and it's you that ends up glancing towards Jason. He's holding his bad leg to his chest, seeming to be absentmindedly massaging the muscle of his thigh with his thumbs as he keeps his stare out the window. The white streak reflects off the lights from the window and the bruises are bright red from Dick's fists and enimga sticks. But, he doesn't look stressed this time. He looks content for once. And you always think there's hope for him but his position confirms it.

Which, lets your mind wander back to how you and him were. It wanders back to the night outside Excellent Gotham. It was the right thing to do. There is good, there is bad, and there is all of this grey in between. Something might be the right thing to do, for the greater good, to save someone, but that doesn't always make it fair or just or painless. It was the right thing to do, to save Jason. But, you wonder in the silence of the night, what happens after then. The bell has been rung and you're dealing with it but it doesn't feel good. Being around him feels like you're trying to breathe through water. You don't want to give up on you and him. You're gonna take out Crane, the Titans are going to leave, Bruce will probably come back, and it'll start to fall back into a new normal. And you want to know what kind of new normal that's going to be.

You want the new normal to still be you and him.

But you don't even want to ask about it. You hurt him and it just doesn't feel right to ask even if it'll gnaw at you until you do.

"I can feel you staring." Jason quips, looking at you, saying it on purpose.

You roll your eyes but the smile never reaches your eyes before it falls. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." You mock him, waving a hand haphazardly at him before you get to your feet and stretch before you lean your back against the wall. You look back at Jason and you can tell by the raise of his brows and his wide eyes, he's expecting you to elaborate. You let out a defeated sigh. "Hey, Jay?"

"Yes?" Jason answers expectantly.

"Where do we stand?" You ask bluntly. "I mean....you and me." You nod once. "After all of this and everything. I'll follow your lead." You nod a few times. "Ball's in your court this time."

As much as you would like to go to the roof and scream your lungs out about how much you want to be with him and how much you love him, you know you can't. None of that is fair to him. Jason Todd was murdered and then came back from the dead. He was used and abused and manipulated. He's not fine and he should be able to learn how to live now, rediscover who he is after all of this if he needs to. You telling him you want to go right back to where you were before he died, sounds cruel. It's as if you won't give him a choice, like you expect him to just be normal and you don't. So, you ask him and you let it be his decision because it should be. It was you that ended things anyway and it was you that betrayed him, more than he betrayed you is the way you see it.

Jason feels his heart in his throat. He hates this but he knows there is no other choice. He swears this one fucking time, he is not doing it to push. He is doing it for himself and for you. He owes you more. He owes you more than he has ever given you. He owes himself more.

You have said it over and over that Jason is loved and he is not alone, at the very least, he has you and he is loved by you. There is not a single day that he is not eternally grateful for you. But, that's not enough. It's not enough because, after everything, Jason still feels like he is not enough. He watches the chaos he has brought on all of these people who he cares about and who care about him. Someone who is enough, doesn't do that. And he died. The trauma of that isn't going to go away because you love him and he loves you. He desperately wishes it were so simple, but it's not.

Jason swore he would never hurt you but he thinks about that night outside of Excellent Gotham and how it looked like it was ripping you to shreds to end things and to give up on him, even if you never meant it. You didn't deserve it. He needs to figure himself out and sort out some of this pain in his chest before it metastasizes more. He needs to just exist for a second and work on who he is after coming back. He owes it to himself and then he owes it to you. It's not fair to continue something if he isn't sure he'll be okay in the end of this. That's not fair to either of you.

So, as much as it physically pains him, he knows where you stand.

"Uh..." Jason pulls in a breath and you know. Jason doesn't stutter often. "I really fucking hurt you." Jason nods his head.

"I hurt you..." You hang your head in shame before looking back to him.

"Yeah, deserved it though." Jason lets out a scoff before he shakes his head. "Look," Jason starts as he pushes himself off the wall and walks over to you, standing in front of you. "I don't want to ever hurt you again." Jason states and you know there is a but coming. This is not going to end the way you dreamed it would. "So, I think-think we need to sort our shit out."

You hang your head, feeling the lump in your throat. It was as if the night you ended things, it wasn't quite real. He was high and you were mad. Then you rescued him and it's been kind of weird ever since. It didn't feel quite like you broke up but it didn't feel like you were together. It has felt like this weird state of in-between where you're tripping over each other trying to find the right footing. And now, it seems you've found it in an unknown territory. It's scary.

It's scary because after being rescued, Jason is one of the only things you know. And you know that it's going to be good for you to find yourself without him, find out who you are outside of Jason and the Titans. It's for the best and you know. But, you also know Jason and Jason Todd has always loved to avoid things that are good for him. Good to him. What if he avoids this forever and this is really it?

"I'm sorry." Jason says quietly.

"It's okay." You nod up at him. "You're, uh, you're right. You died."

As much as you saw it coming, you feel blindsided. You are not together. He is not breaking up with you because you did it first. But, it feels that way anyway. He is right. You need time and space to heal and deal with everything that's happened. Maybe you could do that together but maybe you need to figure out who you are now. You are not the same people you were before he died. Jason Todd died that day and so did you. You need to just exist without each other even if it is the most painful thing either of you will ever do.

Jason nods. "Yeah," He scoffs. "It's not fucking fair to you or me if we jump into this shit again."

You nod softly. "Yeah...you're right." You push off the wall, closing the distance between you. "For what it's worth, I'm still sorry for everything that's happened to you, Jay." You sniffle softly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you, too." Jason lets out a soft sigh, looking to the floor before he looks back to you. He will find his way back to you because you're everything he's ever wanted and he wants to deserve you one day. "Friends?" He asks, sticking out his hand with the quick raise of his brows.

"For now." You take his hand in yours. "We'll find our way back." You say softly but with certainty.

"Hope so." Jason quips right back with a cheeky grin. "I'll miss you being up my ass all the time."

You roll your eyes as a smile starts to fade over your lips. "Shut the fuck up." You groan, making Jason chuckle softly. "You're my favorite person, ya know?"

"And you're mine." Jason says simply, without hesitance.

The room falls silent, the two of you still holding each other's hand right in the middle of you. It's as if you aren't sure how to backtrack. How do you go back to being friends? You were never meant to be friends. There was always something more there. Something strong and tender, throbbing and beating like a desperate heart pumping blood through an open artery. You have stained each other with every scar and crumb of yours. How do you take it back? How do you cleanse yourselves and try again? Can you even do it?

Jason's grip on your hand tightens and he doesn't want to leave it like that. As friends. The very idea is bitter and stale. He knows it's for the best. For the first time in his life, he is doing something to better himself and protect you. It's not just self-destruction this time. He wants to be better for himself. He never wants to get here again. And to do that, he needs to do it on his own. Jason won't risk dragging you down with him again as he drowns himself. He's not sure if he'll come out the other end alive this time, but he's willing to try for himself. And then for you. But, that doesn't make this whole thing easier. He still loves you. He still wants you.

You feel it, too. You know he wants to reach forward, pull you into him just for old times sake. You're going to defeat Crane tonight, one way or another, and then you'll go your separate ways for a little bit...as friends. But you think about the last time you had a proper kiss, before you knew you'd end up here. He was alive again. It was a kiss of relief. That's not how you want it to end. You fully believe you will come together again but what if you don't?

The idea makes your stomach twist into knots. And you know Jason isn't going to act on it, out of respect for you. It's the way his hand squeezes yours, the way he won't let go and how he has that dark but kind look in his eyes. The way he is intentionally holding his stance just enough away as if he'll walk into a bear trap with one step forward. He'll never act on it out of respect for your space so when Jason finally starts to move away, you pull him back.

Jason eyes you and then the very corner of your mouth twitches up as you squeeze his hand, pulling him just a little closer to you. You move your eyes up with the raise of your brows before looking back to him and then you shrug effortlessly.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck it." Jason lets out in a single breath before dropping your hand and cupping your face, slamming his lips against yours.

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