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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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I Won't Give Up On Us

Jason Todd x Reader Story!

Word Count: 12.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence, Canonical Character Death, Angst

Author's Note: I wrote this a few years ago I believe, but hadn't posted it back. So I edited (mostly) and fixed it for y'all! Enjoy! -Thorne

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She sat on the water-tower and watched as they moved across the rooftops; they stopped in the middle and began discussing something. The tall one looked down at the smaller one and nodded to the street. “Stay along the rooftops and check the streets while I look for Selina.”

“Selina’s not around here Batman,” she called coyly.

The two of them whirled around, their eyes moving up until they found her. “Kit.”

She stood up from the water-tower and spread her arms. “In the flesh, Batman.”

The young boy beside him took a step forward. “Where’s Catwoman, Kit?”

Her eyes flitted to the bright colored boy, and she grinned. “Careful Robin…foxes eat birds.”

Scoffing, he crossed his arms over his suited chest. “You wouldn’t do a damn thing to me.”

She raised an eyebrow and hopped down, landing in front of them. “You aren’t the only one with skills, Robin. And we both know who’s the better fighter.” She walked by them, stopping at the ledge before turning to Batman. “Selina had business elsewhere.”

“Where is she?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno. She might be my mentor, but she doesn’t tell me everything.” Gesturing to him, she quipped, “You’d have better luck using those detective skills of yours to find her.”

As she started to walk away, she paused and turned as if remembering something and looked at Robin. “Do you always keep your wallet on you? Or is it just right now?”

“What are you talking about, Kit?” he questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.

She flashed a grin and waved a black leather wallet, enjoying the way his eyes widened at the sight, then patted at his pants; her tone was heavy with challenge as she provoked, “Catch me if you can, little bird.” That was all she said before taking off down the wall, running along the streets.

Robin jerked forward, seemingly forgetting that Batman was beside him as he hauled after her. “GET BACK HERE, KIT!”

Batman sighed as he watched the two teens chase each other, one continually shouting the other giggling, then a voice called from behind him. “They’re almost like a miniature version of us, aren’t they, Bat?”

He tipped his head to the woman standing on the other rooftop. “Selina.”

She smirked and turned, walking away. “Let’s play a game of tag, shall we?” He grunted as he began running after her.

***

She could hear Robin’s feet slam against the pavement with each step he took, and she huffed a laugh. “You’re not supposed to let people hear you, Robin! I thought Batman taught you how to be quiet!”

“I’m gonna be quiet when I get my wallet back from you!”

“Is that before or after I take the money inside?”

“DON’T TOUCH MY MONEY, KIT!”

“So touchy, Robin.” Her hands gripped the ledge as she pulled herself up and onto the rooftop; her feet carried her to the edge of the building, and she peered over it, mumbling to herself, “That’s a little too big of a jump for me to make.”

She turned around and was met by his chest as he slammed into her; her eyes widened as everything moved in slow-motion as they fell over the edge. The wind whipped by them as they fell, and she couldn’t stop the blood-curdling scream that tore through her throat.

An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, then the click of the grapple-gun sounded in her ears, followed by his low and confident voice. “I’ve got us Kit, don’t worry.”

Her hands clenched in his suit as the grapple hooked into a building, and they swung down to the roof below. When their feet touched the ground, she pulled away and slung her fist into his stomach. He bent over, holding his stomach and she exploded. “Are you insane, Robin! We could’ve died! How about next time, you watch where the fuck you’re running!”

She turned away and stalked off when a hand curled in hers. “Wait a second, Kit.” She paused, glancing down at him, then he rose and rubbed the spot she’d punched. “Damn, you’ve got one hell of an arm.” She felt the corner of her mouth raise and he matched her grin. “See…you’re not that mad at me.”

Scoffing, she retorted, “Considering the fact that we almost became a giant splatter on the pavement? I’m a little mad.”

“I had us.”

She leaned forward and poked his chest. “And what would’ve happened if you hadn’t?”

He paused for a minute, then laced his fingers with hers. “Then we wouldn’t have been able to go to prom in a few weeks.” He went quiet, then looked at her. “You are still gonna go to prom with me, right, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, Jason…I am.”

Grinning, he nodded to the diner just across the street. “Wanna get some food?”

“Sure.”

They began walking towards the diner, sliding down the fire-escape and to the street; they crossed the street and stepped into the joint. When the food was ready, they took it back to the roof, sitting down on the ledge, eating, while cracking jokes back and forth.

(Y/N) was sipping on her milkshake when Jason went quiet, and she eyed him. “What’s wrong, Jay?”

He glanced at her then shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something. You aren’t usually this quiet.”

Jason stayed silent for a moment. “…I’m going to Ethiopia soon.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned close. “For what?”

His gaze seemed heavy when he looked at her. “I’m finding my mother.”

“I thought Catherine was your mom?”

Jason nodded. “She was…but she wasn’t my biological mother.”

“When are you leaving?”

“In a couple days.”

“You’re going to be back in time for prom, right?”

Jason snorted. “Yes, (Y/N). I won’t stand you up at prom.”

She grinned. “Good.” It was silent for a second, then she spoke softly. “Does Bruce know?” When he didn’t answer, she found her own, sighing, “Jason, it’s not a good idea to leave without letting Bruce know.”

He nodded. “I know…but Bruce isn’t who I need to tell right now.” He took her hand. “It’s you.” His other hand fumbled in his utility belt, and he pulled out a silver band that held a peridot in the middle; he held it out to her, and she took it, then stared at him.

“Jason…what’s this?”

“A ring.”

(Y/N) sighed and rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. Couldn’t figure that out myself.” She paused. “Why though?”

“It’s a promise ring.”

She felt the breath leave her lungs and her eyes went wide. “A promise ring?”

He nodded and squeezed her hand. “I know we’re too young to get married right now, (Y/N). But I love you, and at some point, in my life, I that to become ‘our life’.”

(Y/N) was speechless at his confession, and she pulled off her mask, questioning, “Are you being serious right now? Because if this is a joke, after I beat the shit out of you, I will break up with you, and never speak to you again.”

Jason snorted. “I’m being one-hundred percent serious, (Y/N). I want to marry you someday, and this ring serves as a testament to that.” He squeezed her hand again. “So, what do you say? Wanna make a promise?”

(Y/N) felt tears gather in her eyes, and she shifted, wrapping her arms around his neck; she nodded, and choked out, “Yes!” She pulled back, pressing her lips to his; she murmured against his mouth. “Yes, I do.”

Jason grinned, and pulled her close, and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Jason.”

***A Few Weeks Later***

She walked into the apartment, closing the door behind her; she kicked off the black heels and began fumbling with the dress zipper. Selina tipped her head around the wall. “What are you doing home so early, hon?” She glanced down at her wristwatch. “Prom wasn’t supposed to be over until eleven. It’s nine.”

(Y/N) glanced at her as she pulled the zipper down. “Jason wasn’t there.”

“He stood you up?”

She shrugged. “If he did, he’d better have a damn good reason for it.”

Selina observed her for a few seconds. “Are you okay, hon?”

“I’m beginning to worry about Jason.” She sighed.

“Why’s that?”

“Because ever since Jason left for Ethiopia, he hasn’t sent me a single message.” (Y/N) paused and looked at her. “Jason isn’t one to keep me in the dark. He would’ve called by now.”

Selina moved forward and placed her hands on (Y/N)’s shoulders. “He’s probably spending time with his mom.”

(Y/N) stared at her before sighing, nodding, “You’re probably right.” She pulled away from Selina’s grip and moved to her bedroom, stopping as she closed the door. “I’ll go see Bruce tomorrow and ask.”

“You might not be able to find Bruce.”

She cocked an eyebrow at her comment. “And why not?”

Selina’s gaze turned solemn. “Something’s wrong with Bruce he’s becoming…ruthless and careless.”

(Y/N) took in her words and nodded. “I’ll see if I can find him. That or I’ll just ask Alfred. He’ll know.”

Selina nodded. “Goodnight hon.”

“Night Selina.”

***The Next Day***

She stood in apprehension at the view of the manor; no matter how many times she’d been there, she was still shocked at the sheer size of it. She stepped up to the door and rang the doorbell, then turned and stared out at the long driveway, listening as the doorbell chimed.

The door opened and (Y/N) spun back around, expecting Alfred to be there. “Hey Alfred, is—Dick?” She stopped and stared at him. “Holy crap! Dick! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Dick smiled at her and opened his arms. (Y/N) leaned in and gave him a hug before pulling away. “What are you doing back in Gotham?”

Dick’s face dropped, and he stared at her. “Bruce needed my help.”

“Selina told me he’s been on edge for a while. It’s good that you’re here to keep him grounded.”

Dick nodded and motioned inside. “Want to come in?”

(Y/N) nodded and stepped by him. “This place gets even cooler every time I come over.”

He chuckled. “It does, doesn’t it?” They stepped into the kitchen and Dick went to the refrigerator. “Want something to drink?”

“Did Alfred make any fruit tea?”

“I think he made mango and peach tea.”

“I’ll take some of that.” He pulled out a pitcher and poured each of them a glass; he handed hers to her and she sipped it. “Alfred makes the best tea, I swear.”

Dick smiled and sat beside her, giving her a once over. “You look good, (Y/N).”

She was surprised at his comment and pointed to herself. “Me?”

“Yes (Y/N). You.” He snorted.

“Thank you, Dick.” She smiled. “Don’t ask me for a loan though, cause I ain’t givin’ you money.”

Dick laughed at her and shook his head. “I’m not going to ask you for a loan, (Y/N).”

“Good…‘cause I don’t have a lot of money.”

The two of them let out laughs, and Dick’s eyes caught the ring on her finger; he nodded at it. “Are you wearing a ring?”

(Y/N) glanced down at it, then back to him and nodded. “Jason gave it to me a few weeks ago.” She twirled it between her fingers, and she felt a smile form. “It’s a promise ring.” (Y/N) paused, then looked up at Dick. “Which brings me to the reason why I’m here…is Jason still in Ethiopia with his mom? He hasn’t messaged me yet, and I’m beginning to worry about him.”

Dick’s expression gave way from surprise to pure shock, and he leaned forward, his tone laced with disbelief. “…Have—have you not been told, (Y/N)?”

She blinked at him. “Told what?” Dick went silent, and (Y/N) cocked her head at him. “What haven’t I been told, Dick?”

He stared at her with a face that made her heart thump ominously and his voice held a tone of solemnity. “…Jason was killed in Ethiopia a few weeks ago.”

(Y/N) thought her heart stopped as she breathed out the only word she could manage. “…What?”

***Part Two***

Noise. Everything that came out of his mouth was pure noise. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as she rose from the bar seat. Dick looked at her concerned and rose to follow her. “(Y/N)? Where are you going?” She didn’t respond, her feet carrying her towards the study; she entered the room and slid to the wall, moving the clock from its position. (Y/N) skipped the steps, moving as fast as she could into the cave.

She came upon him, standing in front of the Batcomputer talking to Alfred; he turned to her, and she let out a withering whisper. “Is it true?” His eyebrows furrowed and he opened his, but she cut him off, this time, her voice a screech. “IS IT TRUE?!”

He shut his mouth for a few seconds, then murmured, “…Yes he’s…gone.”

(Y/N) saw red and she flew forward, her fists pounding into his chest. “HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME! HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM ME!” Bruce didn’t respond, didn’t even react to her punches; he just took each blow. After a few seconds of continual punches, he reached out and grabbed her arms; (Y/N) struggled, thrashing against him. “Let go of me!”

He didn’t, instead he brought her forward and circled his arms around her; she struggled for a few moments, but then the realization set in, and she felt her knees weaken. They caved and she let him lower her down as she cried.

Her hands clenched in his suit, and she stared up at him, wailing, “What happened?”

Bruce’s eyes shut and he whispered, “Joker killed him in Ethiopia.” (Y/N)’s eyes momentarily widened, before shutting and she buried her face in his shoulder as she sobbed.

***

She cried for hours, and he sat with her on the floor of the cave the entire time; Alfred and Dick had gone upstairs earlier to give them privacy. (Y/N) didn’t feel like moving, didn’t feel like talking, but she forced herself to; she shifted her eyes to Bruce’s and whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me he di—why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t know how to. I’ve been so occupied with Gotham that I didn’t have time.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He looked down at her and she felt tears gather in her eyes again. “I deserved to know. I should’ve been the first person you told.”

Bruce looked away but nodded. “I know…I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

“How’d…how’d he die?”

There was a pause, then Bruce’s voice came out no higher than a broken whisper. “It was my fault…I wasn’t fast enough.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Bruce.”

“Yes, it was. I told him to wait but I should’ve known he would’ve gone to save her.”

(Y/N) glanced up at him at the mention of ‘her’. “Her? Who’s her?”

“Sheila Haywood. Jason’s mother.”

“So, he found her? Did he save her?”

Bruce let out a cold laugh that unsettled her. “He tried to…only to be betrayed by her and given to the Joker.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and he continued. “He beat Jason to a bloody pulp…then blew up the warehouse they were in.”

“He…killed them both?”

“Yes.”

She sucked in a breath, closing her eyes as the tears ran down her cheeks. “I thought he was still there…still spending time with her…I never imagined this would’ve happened.”

A comforting hand caressed the side of her head and Bruce apologized again. “I’m sorry, (Y/N)…I’m so sorry.” She said nothing and leaned her head onto his shoulder again and let the tears come.

***

The weeks after that were unimaginable, and (Y/N) couldn’t bear to bring herself to his grave. Too afraid that seeing it, would make it real. Make it true. But after wrestling with herself and telling herself that she owed it to him to go, she finally made her way over. Each step was heavy, and she found it increasingly hard to breathe as she walked; she stopped, a hand holding the cold iron. I can’t do this…I can’t…I’m not ready.

(Y/N) moved to turn when a hand rested on her shoulder; she looked up to see Dick smiling sadly down at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew at some point you’d go see him…I’ve been waiting to go with you.”

She reared back and glared. “How do you know I need someone to go with me?”

“Because you can’t even open the gate, (Y/N).”

She looked back to her hand, seeing it begin to turn a shade lighter from clenching so tightly; (Y/N) let out a shaky breath. “I need help, Dick. I’m…scared to go alone.”

“I’ll go with you.” He said, his hand shifting from her shoulder to her hand, and his fingers curled around it.

She glanced at him through the tears in her eyes. “You will?” He nodded and she stepped back, letting him open the gate.

Their steps were quiet as the moved through the cemetery, and eventually, her eyes landed on his headstone. (Y/N) pulled away from Dick and stumbled to the stone, dropping to her knees in front of it; her fingers rose shakily, and she placed a hand to it.

It was freezing, and it made her throat close as she traced the letters of his name. “I didn’t…I didn’t even get to say goodbye. The plane was boarding, and he could only wave as he ran to catch it.”

Dick knelt beside her and rested a hand on her back. “None of us did (Y/N).”

“I thought he was still in Ethiopia with his mom…” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him; (Y/N) wrapped an arm under his and around his back, resting her head against his chest. “I don’t know what to do, Dick.” (Y/N) gazed at her hand to the silver band resting on her finger and choked out a sob. “What do I do now?” She stared up at him, hoping he had the answers, but all he did was close his eyes and shake his head.

“I…I don’t know, (Y/N).” he whispered.

Her eyes moved back to the stone, and she felt the tears run down her face. “This can’t be real…he can’t be gone.” (Y/N) sobbed, and the words poured from her mouth. “We were supposed to go to prom. We were supposed to graduate and go to college. Move in together and get…and get…” She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘married’, and she felt Dick’s arms tighten around her and his head dropped to her shoulder.

Soon, she felt the material of her jacket go damp and he whispered, “I wasn’t the brother I should’ve been for him. God, I was so angry at Bruce that I stayed away from Gotham, and I never got to know him well enough as I should’ve.”

(Y/N) pulled back to look at Dick, and she took one of his hands; he met her eyes and she murmured, “You were enough, Dick. He knew you cared for him.” He nodded, and (Y/N) rested her head back against his chest. After a few moments, she whispered, “I don’t know what to do anymore, Dick. I can’t even bring myself to leave my room most days let alone putting on my suit on anymore.”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) let her eyes trace his name and she confessed brokenly, “Because I can’t be Kit without my Robin.” She shut her eyes and brought a hand to her face and cried into it. Dick said nothing, he just held her as she broke down, and he let himself break down too.

***Five Years Later***

She gripped the handle of her whip and followed after Selina as she stepped into the jewelry store. Her eyes moved around the room, then went back to Selina who was busy cutting a hole in the glass case. “Selina…what are we doing?”

Selina snorted. “I believe we’re stealing this six-million-dollar diamond and ruby necklace, (Y/N).”

“No. I mean what are we doing, Selina.”

She stopped cutting and rose, arching an elegant brow at (Y/N). “Alright. You’ve been acting like this for a few weeks now. In fact, it’s been like this since you’ve put the suit back on.” She motioned to (Y/N). “What’s up with you?”

Taking a few breaths of courage, she removed her mask and stared at her mentor. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

“And what does that mean?”

(Y/N) loosened the whip at her side. “It means that you’re breaking the law, Selina. And it’s wrong.”

Selina huffed a laugh and turned back to the case, beginning to cut again. “You’re a little old to be playing Cops and Robbers, Kit.” The crack of her whip sounded, and she watched it curl around Selina’s wrist; her eyes turned back to (Y/N), gaping at her. “(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “I’m not letting you take this Selina. It’s wrong.” Selina huffed a cold laugh and gripped the whip in her hand, tugging it roughly; (Y/N) flew forward and she landed at her feet. She looked up and saw Selina picking up the necklace, then glance down at her.

“All these years I’ve taken care of you. All these years that I’ve trained you and this is how you give it back to me? By turning sides?” Selina scoffed. “You can get the hell out of my place and find your own.” (Y/N) scrambled to her feet beginning to give chase; she ran past the alarm and threw an arm out, slamming her hand down on the switch. Selina glanced over her shoulder. “You little bitch!”

“I’m going to be a bigger bitch when I take that necklace back from you Selina!” The two of them slammed through the doors on the roof, hands and feet flying.

They both fought and (Y/N) felt Selina’s claws dig into her shoulder. She let out a cry and slammed her palm up into Selina’s chin. The older woman fell backwards, and (Y/N) watched the necklace fly from her pouch. Their eyes met and each of them scrambled, trying to reach it first. (Y/N) gripped the bolas at her side and slung them as hard as she could. They caught Selina’s ankles, and she dropped; she slid to her feet and scooped up the necklace, and she didn’t look back as she ran, hopping ledges and rooftops, listening to Selina cuss at her the entire way.

(Y/N) ran for what seemed like hours, and once she made sure she was safe, she sat down on a rooftop and caught her breath. Her hand shifted to her pocket, and she looked at the necklace. I could sell this if I wanted to. (Y/N) shook her head and shoved the necklace back in her pocket. No. I made my choice. No more stealing. She sighed and turned back to go to Selina’s apartment when she remembered that she couldn’t go back there. So where to now? (Y/N) looked around when a building caught her eye. I can go to him…he’ll help me. She began running again, moving in the direction of the manor.

***

Bruce stood in front of the Batcomputer, moving through the cases when Tim walked up. “Bruce? Can I help you with anything?”

“No. Go see if Dick or Alfred need anything though.”

Tim nodded and began moving when a figure came into view. “Holy crap! Kit?!”

Immediately, everyone was facing the entrance of the cave and they watched as (Y/N) stepped closer; Bruce rose from his seat and moved in front of her, noticing she was out of her suit. “What are you doing here, (Y/N)?”

Her eyes moved from his to the Batcomputer and she nodded at it. “Selina got arrested then.”

“You knew?”

(Y/N) looked at him and stepped forward, moving her hand towards him to reveal the necklace. “I came to give this to you…to return it.”

Bruce took it, looking at her curiously and the others stepped towards her. “Why’d you turn on Selina?”

She took a deep breath and held out her suit, declaring, “I don’t want to be a criminal anymore. I’m tired of breaking the law and seeing other people get away with it.”

To say that they were surprised at her confession was an understatement; Dick tipped his head. “But…stealing is kind of your thing? Why don’t you want to do it anymore, (Y/N)?”

“Because it’s not what Jason would want me to keep doing.” (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m ready to change but I don’t want to be a criminal. I want to be like you guys…” She swallowed thickly. “I want to be someone that would make Jason proud.”

They were silent for a moment, then Bruce took her suit from her and passed it to Alfred. “If you’re going to join us, you’ll need a new training regimen. We start at dawn.”

That was all he said before turning around, and (Y/N) called out to him. “By the way…Selina kicked me out. So…can I maybe stay here?” He waved a hand and (Y/N) let a smile grace her face.

“Welcome to the Batfamily (Y/N).”

(Y/N) glanced at Dick’s hand held outwards and she smiled, taking it firmly; he shifted and pulled her into a hug, listening as she giggled. “Thanks Dick.”

They pulled away and Bruce walked back over. “You need a new suit Kit. Yours is ripped.”

“Vixen.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Everyone has to grow up sometime. I’m not Kit anymore…I’m Vixen.”

Bruce eyed her before walking past her. “You prove to me that you can be like us, and you can be Vixen…until then you’re Kit.”

“Looks like you have a long road ahead of you (Y/N).” Dick remarked.

She nodded at him. “Right on.” She glanced over at Tim who was still wearing his suit. “Hey…Robin.” He turned to her, and his eyes flashed with fear as she stepped in front of him; (Y/N) pointed to the symbol. “Make sure you honor that uniform. Are we clear?” Tim nodded fervently and she reached up, ruffling his hair. “Good.” (Y/N) walked away and stopped at the stairs, glancing over her shoulder at him. “He’d be proud someone like you filled his shoes.”

“Are you okay with this, (Y/N)?”

Her eyes moved to Dick’s, and she nodded, her voice solemn. “Jason’s gone, Dick. I can’t change that.” (Y/N)’s hand rose to close around the ring on the chain at her neck. “But I can honor him by knowing that Tim’s doing a damn good job as Robin.” She began moving up the stairs and murmured, “And I know he’d be proud that I’m fighting crime instead of making it.”

***Part Three***

She hit the floor, listening as the sound echoed through the cave, and grunted, grabbing her side, the throbbing telling her she was going to see a black bruise soon. He shifted over and knelt beside her. “Are you alright?”

She nodded and clamored to her feet, assuming another defensive position. “Let’s go again.”

“This is the fifth time we’ve done this, (Y/N). Aren’t you tired yet?”

“Again.” She reiterated.

Bruce complied and entered an offensive stance. “Remember (Y/N), it’s not just about blocking each hit, it’s knowing what’s coming next.”

“Got it. Go.”

They circled each other for a few seconds, each of them wondering who was going to move first; Bruce shifted fast, and she readied herself for the coming blows. They came swiftly, and she reminded herself to focus on what he was going to do next. Who am I kidding? The man is unpredictable. (Y/N) kept up, and she saw him grin ever-so-slightly.

“Good. You’re keeping up well.” She blocked the palm he threw at her, returning it with a kick to his side, then backing up; he followed her. “Let’s see if you can go faster.”

“Wait don’t go faster! I’m barely keeping myself on track right now!” Bruce chuckled, but went faster anyway and (Y/N) found herself panicking as each fist came.

“Don’t panic, (Y/N). Focus.” She took a deep breath as she blocked his foot and he said, “When it comes down to a life-or-death fight, you need to be able to keep calm. If you let your enemy get the better of your fear and panic, it’s all over.”

“Is that how you felt when you fought Bane?”

He nodded. “I will admit, that was one of the most fearful moments of my entire life.”

“I imagine having your back broken is.” Bruce shifted again, and (Y/N) saw his foot fly. “Fuck.”

She saw it too late, and it hit her square in the chest; she dropped to the ground, the wind knocked from her lungs. (Y/N) put her hands to her chest and tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come in; her eyes widened in panic, and she looked up at Bruce who immediately moved to her side.

“(Y/N).” She motioned to her chest, and he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Just relax. The more you panic, the harder it will be for you to breathe.” She closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down, then she inhaled deeply, feeling the breath expand in her deprived lungs. She let out a shaky breath and he asked, “Are you alright now?”

(Y/N) opened her eyes, and she jerked, elbow meeting his chest; Bruce’s eyes widened, and she shifted again, taking advantage of the opening he’d given her. The arm she’d hit him with came back and gripped one of his arms and she swung herself around it, placing her legs over his chest, as she pulled it back. Bruce’s back bent on the mat as he tried to move, but she tightened her grip on his arm and her legs, keeping him locked in place.

“Tap out.” He grunted and tried to move but couldn’t and she said again, this time firmer, “Tap. Out.” After a few seconds, she heard his free hand tapping the mat and she let go, rolling off. (Y/N) rose to her feet and crossed her arms, smiling triumphantly. “I win.”

Bruce climbed to his feet and stood in front of her, a hard look in his eyes. At first, (Y/N) began to panic at the look, then the corner of his mouth turned up and he passed her murmuring, “Good job.”

She turned around and watched his back in disbelief as he walked to the shower room and then turned to Dick who was walking over, a towel in his hand. “Did…did that just happen? Did he just give me approval?”

Dick snorted as he passed her the towel. “Don’t get used to it, ‘cause it probably won’t happen again for a long time.”

Tim walked up beside her as she laughed. “Here (Y/N). I got your water.”

She smiled as she took it from him. “Thanks kiddo.” (Y/N) drank from the bottle then glanced at Dick. “I thought you were supposed to be in Blüdhaven. Why are you here?”

“Bruce said there’s some new player in Gotham and I figured he could use a hand.”

“Yeah, that Red Hood guy.” She replied.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You know him?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “Bruce hasn’t let Tim or me patrol since he’s come into town.”

“Is he that dangerous?” (Y/N) passed him and walked over to the Batcomputer, typing on it; a few seconds later, the image of eight decapitated heads appeared on the screen. “Holy shit.”

She nodded at his shock. “He’s effectively taken over the drug trade in Gotham City, and is waging a one-man-war on Black Mask.”

“Is he winning?”

“So far? It appears so.” She paused and clicked the mouse. “I can’t exactly condone his actions because he’s killing people, but he’s keeping the drugs away from children and schools, so I’m not overly angry with him.”

Dick hummed, glancing at Tim. “You doing good, Timmy?”

The young boy nodded with a smile. “(Y/N)’s been helping me a lot.”

“Shove off, Dick.” She muttered when she saw the look on his face.

He spluttered. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You were thinking it.” She moved towards the steps, climbing them towards the door.

Dick followed her. “Going to see Jason?”

(Y/N) nodded as they stepped into the study. “Didn’t get to see him last week because of exams.”

“How’d those go?”

She flashed a grin over her shoulder. “Passed with flying colors.”

Dick reached over and patted her head. “Good job, (Y/N).”

She swatted his hand but smiled nevertheless at his congratulations. “Thanks Dick.” He smiled as he watched her climb the stairs and move towards her room.

(Y/N) walked inside her room and closed the door, immediately stripping from the sweaty work-out clothes; she dropped them into her hamper and moved into the bathroom, stepping into the shower. Once she was finished, she pulled on her underclothes, then put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Her eyes drifted to the zip-up hoodie in her closet; she pulled it off the hanger and slipped it on. Even after so long, it still fit her; she could faintly smell the scent of his cologne in it and she sighed, closing the closet, and moving to the door. (Y/N) walked down the steps and to the garage, grabbing her keys as she walked by.

***

The drive to the cemetery didn’t take long, and she stepped across the grass, still covered with dew. She pulled out the bottle of water from her bag, along with the old rag she’d grabbed; she poured the water on the rag then ran it over the surface of the stone, cleaning away the dirt.

“Sorry I wasn’t here last week, Jay. I had exams that week and I was too busy cramming. Honestly, it feels like a shit excuse on my part, but I know you’d understand.” (Y/N) grinned. “I remember how well you did in school. Right next to me, you were the best there was.” She pulled the rag away and wrung it out, putting it away, then she placed the vase of flowers at it, shifting it into place.

“I should mention that I passed my exams with A’s. (Y/N) (L/N) is one step closer to graduating. To be honest, school sucks. My nights are much more fun.” She snorted and pulled a photo album from her bag. “Tim helped me put this together a few days ago. He likes photography a lot.” (Y/N) opened it and reclined against the headstone. “You’d like Tim, Jason. He’s a good kid…smart, God he’s smart. Probably smarter than all of us…even Bruce.” She flipped the pages. “This is an old picture…the first gala you ever dragged me to.”

(Y/N) snorted. “I kept stepping on your shoes when we danced, but you just smiled at me…here’s you and I at the fairgrounds. I remember you threw up on the teacups because you ate too much. Ugh, that was so gross. Hilarious, but gross. Here’s that photo of you, Dick, Roy, and I at the pool. The chicken fight was fun and watching you and Dick pout because Roy and I beat you both was even more so.” Her fingers moved the pages, and she came across one of them; they froze on it. “…This was the last photo you and I took together. The Christmas party Bruce threw the year before you died.” A sad smile crossed her face, and she flipped the page again. “For now, that’s all we have.”

She closed the book and turned to the stone. “But I’ll make sure to take more photos so I can show you. Something tells me that the family is going to get a lot bigger in the future.” (Y/N) rose from the ground and collected her things, then stood in front of the stone. All at once, she felt someone’s eyes on her and immediately, she turned and eyes darting around, but saw nothing. Confused and unnerved, she faced the stone again. “I’ll see you later, Jason. I love you.”

(Y/N) quickly walked to her car and climbed in, pulling away from the sidewalk; she picked up her phone and pushed a button, listening to it ring.

Hello?

“Hey Bruce.”

What’s wrong?

“I think someone was around Jason’s grave.”

There was silence on the line, then his voice came over low and quiet. Why do you say that?

“Because it felt like someone was watching me.”

You sure it wasn’t someone else visiting?

(Y/N) huffed a mirthless laugh. “Bruce, I was the only person in the cemetery.”

I’ll see about putting up a camera in the quadrant that Jason’s grave is in.

“Alright. Hey…about patrol tonight. Can—”

We’ll talk about it tonight.

“Okay.” (Y/N) hung up and continued her drive towards Gotham University.

***

She stood in front of the Batcomputer, watching Bruce type away. “Have you found anything else about him?”

“Not yet. Dick’s going with me tonight, so we’ll see what it brings.”

“About tonight…Bruce, I think you should let me patrol again.”

“No.”

She sighed and leaned against the panel. “C’mon, Bruce. You can’t beat this guy on your own, not even with Dick’s help.” (Y/N) reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you, Bruce. It’s what you’ve been training me to do.”

“She’s got a point Bruce.” They turned to see Dick walking towards them, already suited up. “(Y/N)’s been working her ass off to get back into the field. And after what we saw this morning, she’s damn sure earned it.”

(Y/N) turned back to Bruce who took in Dick’s words, then he rose from the chair and began walking off; she sighed and scratched the back of her head. “I swear it’s one step forwards and two steps back.”

“Don’t take it too personal (Y/N). He’s just worried about the new guy.”

Her response was cut off by Bruce who stepped up to her. He held out a black suit with silver streaks on it; she eyed it. “What’s this?”

“That’s your new suit…Vixen.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she gaped at him. “Are you…are you serious right now?”

Bruce nodded. “Dick’s right. You’ve earned the name and right to start patrolling again.” He took in the joy on her face and thumped her forehead. “Go suit up. We leave in ten.”

She scrambled to the changing room and stripped her clothes, pulling on the new suit. It fit like a glove, and she admired the suit in the mirror. She pulled on the domino mask and walked back out to them.

Bruce handed her a grapple gun and motioned to a sleek-black bike. “New bike’s yours too.”

“Holy crap this is awesome!” she yelled, pulling him in for a hug.

“Are you done yet?” Bruce sighed, patting her head.

“Don’t be an ass, Bruce. Enjoy the moment.”

He let out a chuckle as she pulled away, then his tone dropped into a serious one. “Listen to me very carefully, I don’t want you engaging the Red Hood, understood?”

She tipped her head. “I get it, but why not?”

“He’s too dangerous and unpredictable. Leave him to Dick and me. You stick to South Gotham.”

(Y/N) nodded and made her way to her bike. “I’ll stay in contact. Good hunting boys.” She pulled off and drove down the ramps.

***

She stood along the ledge of the building, watching the city below her; the night hadn’t been busy, but it certainly stretched along. Her eyes followed the cars and pedestrians when a flash of red caught them. Holy shit! It’s him! He paused on a roof top, then kept moving; (Y/N) grabbed her gun and aimed it for the building he’d just left when she paused. Maybe I should call Bruce…I’ll just tail him for now and get Bruce information.

She nodded her head and fired, slinging to the other building. Her feet hit the top and she was thankful that her shoes muffled noise as she began running after him. Tailing him wasn’t so hard as he didn’t turn around; he obviously wasn’t expecting someone to follow him. (Y/N) followed him, then, she lost sight of him.

Dropping down into the alley she’d seen him drop into, she let out a ‘huh’ and looked around, whispering, “I don’t understand…he was just here?”

“You’re good, but you aren’t the best.” She spun around to see him standing in front of her; (Y/N) reacted, throwing a fist. He caught it, and she brought her knee up to his stomach; he must’ve been expecting it too because he blocked it with his palm. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Too bad pal. I’m on the job right now.” (Y/N) jerked her fist from his grasp and threw her other one.

He dodged each punch and kick she sent, and he sighed. “I’m not going to fight you.”

That made her pause and she stopped with her hands raised defensively. “And why not?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you, Kit.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Look you’re obviously new in town, so I’ll give you this one for free. My name isn’t Kit anymore. It’s Vixen.”

He leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest; he tipped his head back and flirted, “Vixen, huh? That referring to you growing out of Kit…or becoming a rather alluring seductress?”

(Y/N) uncurled the whip from her side. “Depends on who’s asking.” Whatever response he had was cut off as she cracked it towards him.

Quick as flash, and obviously well trained, Red Hood grabbed the whip and curled his arm around it, jerking it roughly. (Y/N) flew forward and he shifted, grabbing her wrists; he turned them around and her back hit the wall as he shoved her arms above her head. She thrashed until he murmured, “Stop moving.”

She yanked at his grip, then looked at his helmet; she spit at it. “Let me go you fucker.”

He chuckled at her. “Man, you’ve certainly grown a mouth.” He observed her. “Those were nice flowers you left.”

(Y/N) stilled at that and she stared wide-eyed at him. “…What?”

“A nice mix you had going. Forget-Me-Nots, that’s self-explanatory. Primroses for eternal love, Red Tulips for undying love, Rainflowers for atonement, and Sword Lilies for an August birthday.” (Y/N) felt the breath leave her lungs, and all she could do was stare, too stunned to speak. “You’re still holding onto him, aren’t you?”

Her eyes narrowed and she felt tears swim in her vision as she tugged at her arms. “You sonovabitch. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve visited his grave every week for the past five years, always bringing the same blend of flowers, and the same rag to clean with.”

“So, you’ve been watching me?”

“For a while…I wanted to know if you cared.”

“…Why?” His hands shifted, taking both her wrists in one, and the other went behind his head and pushed the button. She watched the helmet unlock and he pulled it off, dropping it do their feet, then he pulled the domino mask from his eyes and gazed at her. (Y/N)’s jaw went slack, and she could barely breathe.

“Because I still care.”

She could barely get his name out. “…J-Jason?”

His free hand came up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Hey (Y/N)…been a long time.”

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and everything began to spin; the last thing she remembered was Jason calling out to her as she fell into darkness.

***Part Four***

Her eyelids peeled open, and she looked up at the ceiling blearily. Upon seeing that it wasn’t the ceiling in her room at Wayne Manor, shock registered in her brain, and she shifted to sit up.

A hand rested on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down as a low voice followed. “Don’t sit up too fast. You’ll make yourself sick.” She looked over to see him sitting there on the edge of the bed; his hand moved from her shoulder to the nightstand beside her. He passed her a warm cup, which she took lightly. “Here. You’re recovering from shock, something warm will help.”

She brought the cup to her lips, and the scent of freshly crushed peppermint leaves wafted up her nose. “Peppermint?”

“Peppermint reduces anxiety and makes you calm.” He nodded to it. “Drink.”

“Don’t be bossy…I’m doing it.” She took a few sips then handed it back to him; he took it from her and set it on the nightstand, then looked at his hands. There was silence around them, then she sat up, scooting closer to him. “It’s really you, isn’t it?” The silence he gave her made her heart wrench, and she reached out, curling her hand in his. “Jason?”

He finally looked at her, and she took in the sight of how clouded his teal eyes were. She rested a hand on his cheek, her thumb caressing under his eye. She stared at him, then whispered, “I don’t understand…how are you alive?”

Jason closed his eyes and shook his head murmuring, “I don’t know (Y/N). I remember everything coming back in the Lazarus Pit…but that’s about it.” She tightened her grip on his hand, feeling his thumb run across the back of hers. “I’ve been waiting for the chance to talk to you…but I didn’t know when to.”

“You could’ve talked to me at the cemetery.”

Jason snorted and glanced at her. “And send you into cardiac arrest where I was buried? No thanks.” (Y/N) felt the corners of her mouth rise and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his; they stared at each other for a few moments, then Jason reached forward and pulled her into his lap, burying his face in her shoulder. Her arms came up and wound around him, threading a hand in his hair.

“I’ve missed you, (Y/N).” he whispered, tightening his grip on her waist.

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, Jason. Everyday you’ve been gone.”

They stayed that way for a while, simply holding each other, remembering what they had. (Y/N) pulled away after some time and took his face in her hands, observing him. She could tell how much he’d changed since they last saw each other those five years ago; he’d grown, and not just in his body and facial features. (Y/N) had seen the videos of him fighting; he’d become more skillful at fighting, deadlier too. Whoever trained him after Bruce had honed his senses to a razor-sharp edge. But what stunned her the most were his eyes. When they were younger, his eyes were always bright and full of mirth, always willing to spark some type of trouble…but now? His eyes were dark and cloudy, haunted by his past, a stark contrast from what she remembered.

(Y/N) reached up and twirled a finger in the tuft of white hair at his head. “That’s new.”

He smiled and nodded. “Was like that when I woke up.”

“Jason…what are you doing?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

(Y/N) shifted, pulling herself from his grip and rising to stand in front of him. “You know exactly what I mean.” She gestured to his suit. “This Red Hood business? Fighting Bruce? The war on drugs against Black Mask?” she shook her head like she couldn’t understand any of it—and for the most part, she didn’t. “What are you doing?”

Jason stood from the bed and wandered over to a table, his back to her. “I’m doing what Bruce won’t.”

“And that is?”

His hands shifted to the guns on the table, and he picked up a rag, beginning to clean one. “Controlling crime.”

“You’re not controlling crime, Jason. You’re acting like a mob boss.”

He snorted and glanced over his shoulder. “Maybe, but it’s getting the job done.”

(Y/N) thought her head was going to explode, and she crossed the room to him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around to face her; she glowered at him. “You’re not ‘doing the job’, Jason! You’re killing people!”

He jerked his arm from her grip and leaned in, his voice harsh. “Bad people! I’m putting down dogs that deserve it!”

“It doesn’t matter what they deserve, Jason! It’s murder! We aren’t executioners!”

Jason stood back up to his full height, and she watched his eyes turn to slits as he murmured, “I thought you of all people would understand why I’m doing this.”

(Y/N) thought he’d slapped her with how disappointed he sounded, and her voice turned incredulous. “Are you shitting me right now?” She reached out, her pointer finger jamming into his chest. “Don’t you dare turn this on me.” (Y/N) shook her head. “I left Selina and joined Bruce because I didn’t want to be a criminal anymore. I wanted to be a better person in your memory.” She stared into his eyes and spit, “You know damn well I’d never condone this…not even for you.”

“So, you’re choosing him over me?”

“Oh, don’t even go there, Jason. It’s not like that and you know it. Bruce helped me turn over a new leaf. He’s helped me become who I am.” (Y/N) reached out and took his arm. “Come home, Jason. Bruce and I can help you.”

This time, he gripped the hand that held his arm and he yanked her off. “I don’t need his help. Not when he did this to me.”

“Are you…are you blaming Bruce for this?”

“Of course I am! He left me to die!” The sound of a palm against skin echoed in the room and Jason reached up, holding his throbbing cheek.

(Y/N) glared as she whispered frostily, “He didn’t leave you to die, Jason! He told you to wait until he got back! I will admit that he wasn’t fast enough to save you, but he didn’t do this!” She tugged her hand away from his grip. “You’ve done this all on your own.”

His Adam’s apple bobbe4d as he swallowed, and he huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’ve changed, (Y/N).” He passed by her, muttering as he did. “You act so high and mighty, but you forget that you used to be a criminal too.”

She looked at him through the mirror beside her and she murmured, “I think it’s you who’s changed.” He turned and met her eyes and she added, “My Jason knew the difference between right and wrong.”

Jason flashed her a smile that made her stomach curl and he declared, “I don’t know if you know this, (Y/N)? But your Jason died.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and turned around, meeting his gaze. They stared at each other, and she affirmed, “Yes…he has.” Her hand reached up tugged at the silver chain around her neck; she walked past him to the door but stopped beside him. (Y/N) took his hand and placed the necklace in his palm; he looked down at it, then back at her, his eyes widening, and she hissed, “You can take this back. I’d rather die than marry what you’ve become.”

Jason’s hand curled around the ring, and he narrowed his eyes in amusement. “Don’t know if you know this, doll…but dying isn’t all that hard to do.”

(Y/N) glared as she passed him to the door, slamming it on her way out.

***

She wondered aimlessly through the streets, not caring where she was headed. After a few hours, a beeping sounded from her wrist; she raised her wrist and pushed a button on it. “Hello?”

Bruce’s worried voice came over the comm. (Y/N)? Where are you?

She looked around, taking in the view of the bay. “At the docks.”

Stay there. I’m coming to get you.

The call ended and she collapsed onto the bench, staring out at the water. Her hand reached up to hold the ring that hung at her neck but clenched around nothing. (Y/N) glanced down, then remembered where it went; tears filled her eyes and she reached up, covering her eyes as she sobbed.

A few moments later, the sound of the Batmobile pulling up came behind her, and then, a hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up, blinking through the tears to see Bruce frowning at her. “Let’s get back to the cave (Y/N).” She nodded and he helped her stand, walking her to the passenger side; she slid in and buckled the seat belt, staring out the windshield as he climbed in the driver’s seat.

The city passed them in a blur, and soon, they were back in the cave; Bruce turned off the Batmobile and they sat in silence until she whispered, “I know who he is.”

Bruce was quiet a few moments, then he murmured, “…I know as well.”

(Y/N) turned to him. “Ra’s brought him back.”

“It was actually Talia. Ra’s apparently called him a curse set upon the world.”

She huffed a laugh, but it was anything but humorous. “Right about now, I’m not sure whether I should agree with Ra’s or not…I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“How did you find out?”

“I saw him from the ledge I was on. I tailed him to an alley, and when he showed his face, I passed out from the shock.” (Y/N) looked at him. “Woke up and we got into it about what he’s doing…I left.” She paused. “How’d you find out?”

He sighed and reclined against the headrest. “We fought after I found Onyx, he revealed himself and...”

“And?”

“And after testing the coffin and the blood samples he left…it’s him.”

(Y/N) snorted and shook her head. “I could’ve told you that.”

They lapsed into silence, then Bruce murmured, “You aren’t wearing the necklace.” (Y/N) rested a hand along the base of her throat then shifted, climbing out of the Batmobile; Bruce followed her.

They walked a few feet, stopping in front of Jason’s old suit; (Y/N) stared at it, then turned to Bruce. “We made that promise when we were young and naïve…but now?” She turned around and began walking away. “I don’t think there’s a place for him and I in this world anymore. Not like this there isn’t.”

***Part Five***

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

His hands halted at her question but continued a second later. “You being there will only make a distraction.”

“Maybe, but it might also make him give in easier.”

He clicked the utility belt around his waist and looked up at her. “He had his chance to surrender when you two were together, (Y/N). Now I’m putting my foot down.”

She watched him move past her towards the Batmobile, and she reached out, griping his bicep; his eyes met hers and she said, “Call me if it gets bad.”

“It won’t.”

“It will.” (Y/N) squeezed his arm firmly. “And when it happens, you’ll need me to talk to him. We both know I’m the only one who can even begin to reason with him.” He said nothing, and she let go, watching him climb into the Batmobile and speed off.

After a few moments, she walked over to the Batcomputer and sat down, hitting a few keys until the monitor displayed Bruce’s cowl camera; she watched the scenes play in front of her, the mess with Black Mask, up until Bruce leaving to go find Jason.

Footsteps sounded beside her, and she glanced up to see Alfred looking at the screen. “So Master Bruce is going after Master Jason?”

(Y/N) looked back at the screen and nodded. “Yes.”

“Hmm. And you stayed behind?”

She bit her lip, eying the screen. “…It’s not my place to get between them.”

“It’s not?” he almost sounded shocked at her admission.

“No. This is Bruce and Jason’s fight now. It’s dragged on long enough.”

Alfred watched her for a few moments before humming again. “Hmm. And here I thought Master Jason still held privilege in your heart Miss (Y/N). I must admit it is hard to see that you have moved on so soon.” It was all he said as he turned on his heel and crossed the cave floor, leaving (Y/N) with her thoughts.

She stared at the screen for a few seconds, taking in Alfred’s words before mumbling, “Ah fuck it.” She rose from the chair and made her way to the case where her suit was, reaching out and pulling it from its holds; she slipped it on and tightened the straps and belts, moving to her bike.

Alfred stood beside her, holding out her whip. “I do believe this is yours, Miss (Y/N).”

“Make sure to keep in radio contact with us…we might need you Alfie.” He nodded and saw her off.

***

(Y/N) arrived in the nick of time, seeing Jason and Bruce moving into fighting stances. She pulled out her grapple and swung up to the fire-escape, standing between them; they were shocked to see her there. “(Y/N)?”

She eyed Jason and squared her shoulders, her back to Bruce. “Enough Jason.”

He stood up straight and glowered at her. “Move (Y/N).”

“No.” she retorted; she wasn’t afraid of him. This was still her Jason. A little worn and little darker, and a lot more damaged, but still him. Still good.

“This doesn’t concern you. This is between me and him.”

(Y/N) shook her head and pointed between them. “This concerns me just as much as it concerns you, Jason.”

His response was cut off by Bruce who gripped her arm firmly. “You need to leave (Y/N).”

“I’m not going anywhere Bruce.” She looked between them. “I’m stopping this before it goes too far. Let this end so we can talk.”

Bruce squeezed her arm, his voice hardening. “Your place isn’t here right now, (Y/N).”

She gazed at him for a few moments, before jerking her arm back, this time turning her back to Jason, as if protecting him. “This is my place, Bruce. Right here. Between you,” She paused and glanced over her shoulder, catching Jason’s eyes. “And Jason.” His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and she turned back to Bruce. “Fighting isn’t going to solve our problems. We’re all suffering from what happened in the past and what’s happening now. Stop this so we can help each other.”

Bruce went silent at her mini-speech, and she thought he was going to agree until he shook his head. “Jason plans on killing Joker…I’m stopping him tonight.”

Jason barked a laugh. “You can try and stop me.” The two of them shifted but stopped when the sound of a devastating explosion rocked the city, and an angry green light covered them; they all turned to the sight and Jason murmured, “That’s Blüdhaven.”

(Y/N) and Bruce’s eyes widened, and they both breathed in disbelief. “Dick?”

Jason chuckled at them. “My God…is Nightwing there? Imagine that. One son returns from the grave as another one enters it…what a fitting ending this has become.” Neither Bruce nor (Y/N) could form words as they watched in horror as the sister-city disintegrated before their eyes. “Good God, the ironies around. Here we are and you have to run to the site of an explosion to dig through the wreckage and find the body of your ‘Boy Sidekick.’ If he’s there, Bruce…you’re too late. Again.” Bruce shifted, starting towards Blüdhaven when a blast knocked him sideways. “No! You’re not leaving! Not now! Not this time!”

Bruce looked back at Jason, his voice and gaze pleading. “Jason. Please. I—”

Jason cut him off, his voice angry. “What! You ‘have to be sure?!’ Getting out of that alive would be one neat trick. It’d take a hell of a lot more than batarangs and a few escrima sticks to survive.” He paused, a smile playing at his lips. “If Ol’ Dickie is there. He’s dead. And if you leave…someone else dies tonight.”

(Y/N) shook herself out of her stupor and put a finger to her ear. “Alfred! Can you read me?”

“Yes Miss (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

“A nuclear bomb was just set off in Blüdhaven.”

“My God…Master Dick—”

“Send the Batplane to my location.”

She felt an arm curl around her bicep, and she glanced up at Bruce. “(Y/N) the Batplane wasn’t made to withstand such high levels of radiation. You’ll die if you’re exposed too much.”

Pulling her arm from his grasp, she began walking towards the ledge. “Alfred send the Batplane. Now.” She heard Alfred give her confirmation that it was on its way, and she turned to Bruce. “I’ll go find Dick…you end this here. Tonight.” Her eyes passed over Jason who wore a dark expression and the sound of the Batplane echoed in the sky.

She climbed in and spared them one last look before turning the Batplane away and flying towards Blüdhaven. She pushed buttons on the screen and talked to Alfred. “Alfred, scan for the tracker in Dick’s suit.”

“At once Miss (Y/N).” There was silence for a few moments then he came back over the comm. “I’ve got a location Miss (Y/N). But it isn’t the exact. Too much radiation interfering with the radar.”

“I’ll find him Alfred. Just upload his suit vitals into the system.” The sound of tapping came over and then a blinking line shot across the screen. “Alfred, how insulated is my suit to radiation?”

“As best as it can, be Miss (Y/N). Though with the lower half of your face exposed, you’re risking high exposure to the radiation, you’d be overcome with radiation sickness within the hour.”

“Does Bruce have any type of mask I can wear?”

“Check the bin beside you. There might be one.”

(Y/N) pressed a button, halting the Batplane and reached over, searching the bin; she pulled out a mask and fit it around her face, pushing the button on the side that sealed it. “Alright. I’m good.”

“Master Dick is in the outskirts of the city. Hurry Miss (Y/N)…too much exposure will kill him.”

(Y/N) disengaged the lock and began scanning the perimeter of the city for him. It took her about thirty minutes to find him, and when she did, she saw the radiation already beginning to affect him; she lowered the Batplane to the ground and ran out, crossing the street laden with debris until she got to him.

“Dick!” He turned in the direction of her voice, but she could tell he was disoriented; he staggered towards her, falling to his knees just as she reached him. (Y/N) caught his upper body before he fell over and she wrapped an arm under his and across his back, heaving him to his feet. “It’s alright, Dick. I’ve got you.”

He moaned trying to find his feet, and she began pulling him towards the Batplane. “Need…to check…for survivors.”

(Y/N) shook her head at him, heaving him closer. “We can’t do anything right now, Dick. We need to get out of here.”

“But…the survivors—”

“Dick. We can’t save them. I have to get you out of here before the radiation makes you sicker.” He relented his fight and allowed her to carry him to the plane; (Y/N) got him into a seat and strapped in, handing him a bag. “You’ll probably be sick for a while, so try to throw up in the bag.” He nodded weakly and she sat in the seat, then the Batplane rose and made its way back to Gotham. “Alfred, I’ve got Dick. Get some KI ready for him to take when we get back to the cave.”

“Shall I update Master Bruce?”

“Just tell him I got Dick and that he’s okay.”

“I will. Hurry back.”

“Will do.” The comm went silent and she glanced over her shoulder at Dick. “Dickie? You good?”

He was moaning lowly, but moved a few fingers, telling her he was. “…Where’s…Bruce?”

She felt her heart tighten, but she pushed it aside. “Fighting Red Hood.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“You…should’ve….stayed.”

“Stop talking Dick.”

“…M’kay.”

***

The rest of the ride was silent, and when she returned to the cave, Alfred was waiting for her with a gurney. They got Dick on it and wheeled him to the med-room in the cave; they rolled him onto the bed and (Y/N) gripped the zipper at his neck, pulling it down. Alfred helped her pull his suit off, and soon, Dick was asleep in the bed, the two of them resting in the chairs beside him.

“How did you find Master Dick?”

(Y/N) watched Dick’s chest rise and fall with each breath and she murmured, “Dick’s always put the safety of others above himself.” She glanced at Alfred. “I knew he’d try to help survivors in the area.” She rose from the seat and rested a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “I need to go find Bruce. You look after Dick.”

He nodded and she left the cave, climbing back into the Batplane and taking off.

***

She scoured the city until she caught Bruce’s signal; she tapped a few buttons, connecting into the comm. “Bruce?”

(Y/N). Is Dick—

“He’s fine, Bruce. I got him back to the cave.”

There was a pause, then Bruce’s voice came over relived. Good.

“Where are you?”

Delivering Joker to the Asylum.

“And Jason?”

Gone.

She paused, inhaling shakily before murmuring, “I’ll find him…you go back to the cave and see Dick.”

Are you sure?

“I need to do this Bruce. Let me.”

Be careful, (Y/N).

“Jason would never hurt me, Bruce. You don’t have to worry about me.”

…I always worry about you all.

The corners of her mouth rose, and she quipped, “Yeah, we know.” The comm went dead and she turned the Batplane in the direction of Jason’s apartment. She landed on the opposite roof and swung over, lifting a window, and slipping in.

(Y/N) crept across the floor, taking in the view of the small blood puddles on the ground. She followed them into the bedroom and saw him resting on the bed, a blood-soaked towel held to his neck; he was sweating and letting out low groans. (Y/N) walked towards him and reached out, her hand covering the one that held the towel.

His eyes snapped open at the touch and his other hand came up defensively; she caught it and his eyes widened at the sight of her. “…(Y/N)?”

She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over, pressing the towel harder to him. “Where’s your first-aid kit?”

He nodded towards the bathroom. “Under…the sink.”

(Y/N) nodded and rose, moving into the bathroom; she returned a few minutes later holding the kit and a bottle of alcohol. She took her seat back on the bed and moved his hand, pulling the towel from its position; she worked quickly, running the alcohol over it, and murmuring a soft “sorry” as he hissed in pain. (Y/N) dabbed the wound before pulling a needle and thread, suturing his wound.

After a few minutes, she pulled the knot and clipped the leftover string, running a pad of alcohol over it once more. She put everything away and found some washcloths, dampening one; then, she moved back to him and wiped away the sweat from his upper body before running the dry one over him, collecting the moisture.

(Y/N) could feel his gaze on her the entire time, but she refused to make eye-contact, instead murmuring, “Feel any better?”

He was silent a few moments, then he mumbled, “…Yeah.”

(Y/N) wiped her hands on the towel and rested them on the nightstand; she cleared her throat and moved to stand. “Then since you’re fine, I’ll leave.” She got to her feet when a hand curled around her fingers, and she looked down at him.

His eyes no longer held the fury they’d held earlier, instead, they begged for help. “Stay with me, (Y/N).”

She swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay here, Jason.” She started to pull away, but the hand tightened.

“Please don’t leave me, (Y/N).” he plead, and she met his eyes, shocked to see tears forming in them. “Please don’t leave me alone again.”

“Jason, I—”

“I need you…please.”

She stared at him for a few moments before nodding. “…Okay…I’ll stay.” (Y/N) moved, climbing onto the bed beside him; she rested her head on his chest, feeling his arm curl around her waist. “…You know he loves you…don’t you?” Jason didn’t say anything, she knew he wasn’t going to immediately, so she did. “There isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t think about you…that he doesn’t think about how he failed you…that he was responsible for you.” She paused. “You claim he loved you like a son and left you…”

(Y/N) inhaled and lifted her head, locking eyes with him and she declared, “But you were—you are his son, Jason. And he loves you more than life itself.”

He swallowed thickly, and she watched him raise his hand to his eyes; his face morphed in agony and (Y/N) listened as he sobbed. She shifted, crawling up the bed and pulling him to her; his face buried in her chest and his arms wound around her waist, holding her. She raised a hand and gently ran her fingers through his hair, comforting him.

***

After an hour or so, they were still lying in the bed, Jason resting his weight on (Y/N) as she sat against the headboard. Her fingers still ran through his hair, sometimes lightly scratching his scalp, like she remembered he loved, and her other hand rested on his shoulder, gently massaging. They said nothing, just entranced in each other, until Jason broke it, whispering, “…I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I am too, Jason.”

He tilted his head up, giving her a stunned look. “For what?”

“I turned my back on you…when I should’ve been there to help you.” She paused, looking at him. “I was wrong to damn you without trying to understand what you were doing, and why.”

He swallowed, nodding his head to her words; his gaze drifted to her eyes, and he mumbled, “I never meant to disappoint you.”

(Y/N) stared into his teal eyes, and raised a hand, gently brushing the hair away from the tips of his cheekbones, setting it behind his ear. “Neither did I.”

Jason swallowed and raised his weight on his forearms, crawling up her body. “I never wanted to be at odds with you...I wanted to explain everything to you…but I was scared of your reaction.” His face was in front of hers now.

She sighed, nodding, “I know.”

He went quiet for a moment, then reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing along it. “I still love you…and I want you beside me.” (Y/N) met his eyes, watching as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “Will you come with me?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Somewhere far away from Gotham.” He paused, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Come with me, (Y/N)…we can go anywhere we want.” Her hands came up and rested along his shoulders, gently pushing him away. His face twisted and he sat back, watching her rise too.

(Y/N) took his hands, brushing her thumbs along the backs of them; she met his gaze and she spoke firmly. “I’ll go with you.” His eyes widened and his face began to turn joyful until she said, “But you have to do something for me.”

“What?”

“A lot of the unnecessary killing has to stop.” His eyebrows furrowed and she squeezed his hands. “If you want me to come with you? To stay with you and to be with you? You’ve got to try.” (Y/N) pulled her hands back and sat up straight. “Jason, I know you do what you do because you think it’s right. And while I understand that there are some people who don’t deserve to breathe? They’re still human beings. Rapists and murderers, I can get behind your guns. But the petty drug dealers and small-time criminals? Jason, they aren’t worth the bullets you’d spend.”

He observed her for a few moments before reaching past her, opening the nightstand, and pulling something out; his hand was clenched and he spoke quietly, “When I first gave this to you, we were fifteen…we had our whole lives ahead of us. And when I was gone, you never stopped holding on.” He looked at her and said, “That kind of love isn’t something that just dies, (Y/N).”

His hand uncurled and the saw the familiar ring in his open palm. “When you gave this back to me…I was devastated. But…I think it started to open my eyes about us. And I think as long as you’re with me, I can get through anything.” He held out his palm again. “If I ask you again, will you accept?”

“Will try to honor my side of the arrangement?”

“I’ll…try to...I can’t make a promise to it though.”

(Y/N) nodded. “The fact that you’ll try is good enough for me.”

He took her hand and held the ring. “(Y/N) (L/N)…will you marry me?” Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded silently, too choked up to make words; Jason slid the ring on her finger and held her hand, his thumb rubbing the back of it. (Y/N) leaned forward and Jason pulled her into his lap, holding her to him. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Jason.” she whispered against his shoulder.

After a few minutes, she mumbled against his shoulder; Jason chuckled. “(Y/N), I can’t hear you clearly.”

She pulled back, giving him a smile. “I want to get married in Switzerland.”

“Why Switzerland?”

“So, I can shove you into the snow after you kiss me.” The two of them laughed and Jason shifted, wrapping an arm around her waist; her arms wound around his neck, and he gently lowered her back against the bed. They stared at each other until (Y/N)’s eyes darted to the side. “So…are you going to kiss me? Or are you gonna keep staring at me like a weirdo?”

He snorted at her question and shifted a hand, tracing her cheek. “Just thinking about how pretty you are, doll.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “When did you start calling people doll?”

“Kinda just caught on.” He shrugged.

“Mhm.”

The two of them laughed again, then Jason admitted, “I don’t know if I can be the man you deserve, (Y/N).”

She shook her head, threading her fingers in his hair as she said, “You are already more than enough for me, Jason…if anything, I’m not sure if I’m the one who’s deserving of you.”

“Will you stay with me?”

(Y/N) leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, and whispered, “Now and forever.”

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gingerwritess · 3 years

Text

hello!! i’m still alive!

if you’re new here or still hanging around, hi again, so sorry for the radio silence. things have been crazy and i’ve been depressed but what’s new. that’s all the excuses I’m gonna give :D

anyways, a boy made me sad today and I’m trying not to give him that power over me lmao sO I thought today might be a good day to get back on this blog cause I kinda miss it

so. to the hoards of you in my inbox asking if I’m going to ever write for Loki again: sure. Why not. I’ve got some drafts that are finished but unposted so I’ll queue those up and I had more predating idiots in mind so I’ll start that up again.

If you’re here for acotar and elucien, I’m trying I promise to write the next chapter but it’s really hard!! Idk why. I think I wrote myself into a corner and now I have to write myself out of it. But that’s the beauty of writing fic: you get to learn how to write and plot and make mistakes and fix them. just be patient with me please and hopefully soon I’ll have some more chapters!!

also for you elucien fans out there I’m working on a pirate au that I’m absolutely in love with but I won’t be posting it until it’s written so that nobody gets their heart broken if I don’t finish it. AND I’m even outlining it :O also, I might open up requests for oneshots about elucien or Helion x LoA if anyone would be interested👀

last thing, I’m going to try something new and maybe write some blog-ish posts about the writing process. I’m trying to fall back in love with writing cause I miss it, but it’s a very difficult art, so I’m hoping thinking through it and making it more methodical could help. And maybe what I learn could help someone else! So if you’re interested in writing or the writing process, stay tuned cause I’m going to try to be more transparent about my experience with it.

that’s about it, if you’re still here after my year of silence, thank you for sticking around!! I remember each of your little profile pics and reread comments and sweet asks throughout my rough days. You don’t know how truly valued you readers are, I will always appreciate you💕

Loki fic coming tomorrow night!

#personal #loki x reader #elucien

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agustaviolin · 3 years

Text

i am in love with you

i hate to be the bringer

of such devastating news

four and a half years

you wouldn’t believe it

i had my first in a rich neighbourhood

so far away from you

i hated it

had my second in a dorm

just like yours

only you weren’t there

same as the last four and a half years

she laid herself out like a feast

the third

but it wasn’t what i wanted

because it wasn’t with you

for whom i was made

oh, with you

into a golden universe

i am in love with you

and you found someone

before i could tell you that

that my life was made to die with yours

my body made to die with yours

on your bed, somewhere, anywhere

i walked down a hill

in that sleepy coastal city

i was on my way to weatherspoons

to meet your namesake

carrying a heavy bag after class

end of january, i had met you for the first time

and thought to myself

i have found her

it was astronomical

the refrain of the almost free

saw you walking behind that woman we both knew

you were asking her about the bible

it’s a vivid picture

i almost followed you

i had a question for you, too

a few days later

i was traversing the pavement

and upon the hill, a flicker of light

much like a cross

you were standing there

with some girls, some boys

and i was a magnet to your ism

said hi, we talked, you’d just got a new haircut

and i could’ve pressed my lips against every strand of your hair

in a sacred prelude, but i didn’t

have it in me to even tell you how beautiful you looked

better than the birth of venus

we stood there for a while

i said come ‘round the catholic church, please

there’s free lunch on sundays

it made you laugh

then you said

we ought to have a cup of tea

earl grey, your favourite

tea

and with it all the kindness of life

tea

and within me i immortalised you

i immortalise you

and i meant to tell you that

one month before we met

i met someone from your hometown

they took me ‘round the bay and i took a picture of the church

right where you grew up

the foundation was laid

for a house never built

i fell in love with the streets and the lamp posts and trains and cliffs that made you

though i didn’t know you yet

how afraid i was

that’s why i didn’t say

i didn’t know that it was okay to want you

and you were the only one

who didn’t ask where i came from

you just accepted me

and then you offered branches

a bridge between two falling stars

i didn’t understand all the lust bursting out of me

in your vicinity

so i stopped looking at you

and it only made me want you more

and i told our mutual friend

when i was drunk on cheap cider

in may when you were taken

that you must feel like silk

to an intimate observer

and as we walked into the corner shop

on wet cobblestone

i told her that i loved you

said i love her, i love her, i love her

i wonder if she ever told you that

then shame hurt me

and i stopped taking her calls

your scarf, your scarf

autumn or winter upon you

it doesn’t matter

it’s all a golden-red dream

and my nights are full of your perfect movement

your gracious hands and soul

unattainable literary ballerina

purple heart, you sent me one

when i was on the train to paddington

and in the air there was a beginning unreconstructed

you asked if i was okay

because you didn’t see me that day

i should’ve picked up the pace

should’ve told you anything

you would’ve listened

i know you would’ve listened

and lavender was your breath, your scent, your colour

and our friend tried to make plans

on that valentine’s day

plans that fell through

i didn’t know why it wasn’t our turn

but we already merged like waters

a thousand rivers ago

i can feel it

like lana del rey would say

all roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries

i remember you in your leather jacket

when you sat next to me with a cough

i wanted to nurse you back to health

then we’d sleep inside each other

that’s what freedom would’ve meant

and i saw you in the half-light, perfect under blue skies

at 2 pm in june

fate was still trying to patch it up

bare-faced, you were the last living rose

i restrained myself from hoping

i was slate-grey inside

leaving for the counterfeit summer

you were with somebody then

somebody bolder, somebody to break you, another

it was the last time that i saw you

tried to get back in touch

tried to tell you about it

i never had the words, i’m sorry

and i know i act like we’re close

but trust me, i know

i know it when i see it

and i haven’t seen it since

and maybe you never saw me for who i am

for i was traumatised

i couldn’t be myself

i hope you see me now

i know you want immortality

you wear it like a pearl

the designation to be

remembered by the halls of time

well, that i could’ve given you

i wrote a book of poetry about you

in my mother tongue

it will be published soon

even though they rejected it at first

i wrote three hundred songs about you

at the very least

covered all of my canvases

in colours to beckon you

fixed your name into these walls

at night, when i required you

and that’s when i wanted to ask

never had the chance

but i wanted to ask

is it wrong if the only thing

i want to wear for you

is my skin?

i believe in letters

that’s why i’m telling you this

if you ever ask, like oliver did

whenever i watch that film

i think of you and what could’ve been

my childhood was a prison cage

and i get by in reykjavík these days

without any substances

i don’t know how i get by

there’s a man who watches over me

and still i am alone

i practice my violin four hours per day

and i don’t have any family

and everybody wants to know me

and everybody wants to love me

and everybody wants to fuck me

but some days i feel like i can’t move

i’m blooming, i’m barely living

and i am just as much a man

as i am anything else

and i am starved

to the bone

of you

of every atom in you

it is my calling

to reach into your depths, somehow

i’m twenty-four

i can’t remember your birthday

but something tells me it’s in the pulp of summer

not at the death of it like mine

and time isn’t linear

but i will still need you tomorrow

a habit fastened into me

throughout a thousand days

i didn’t know my name for years

on this frozen island

i couldn’t stand

and then they burned my heart

with a catheter, you know

i had nobody to hold

i was so sick

made my peace with dying young

and living slow

an undue burden

on a life never begun

a wasted garden

strong and alone

i’m doing better now

i was in london

when i almost died

around midnight

it stopped beating

i thought about you every day

and i tried

in my way

it’s okay, it’s okay

i play my violin

and something great awaits me

and nothing measures up

to the idea of you

and it’s not just an idea

but a tangible memory

it’s so simple

it’s scripture

no, i’m not religious

but maybe there’s some merit to it

for it brought me you

they don’t know who you are

and i’ll never tell them

only you know who you are

i heard about the shooting

i might understand what led him to do it

he just needed someone to love

i am in love with you

i don’t know why

i just am

it’s pathetic and strange

but maybe it’s what you’ve been waiting for

all this ever-changing time

it’s taken me long enough

i am in love with you

this is my verdict, my promise

this is all i can say

#poetry #lesbian poem #lesbian poetry #queer poetry #love confessions #confession #i love you poem #Sapphic Poetry #sapphic poem #sapphism #sapphic

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Wednesday 5 March 1834

12 10

Rainy morning and F54° at 8 am- Breakfast at 9 alone till Marian came in about ¼ hour – stood talking (she mended the pelisse at the hands) of Miss W- till near 11- Marian really behaves very well about it - a few minutes with my aunt (she had had a restless night) and out at 11 10 - Pickels not here - Mallinson hewing and 1 man holing stone posts, too wet to work at the farmyard door-heading - sauntered about - spoke to James Smith and William Green - possibly to go on the 1st of April but the latter to come as usual but on ½ wages ie. £15 a year - had to tell Marian all this - came to my study at 1 ½ - fair from about 11 to after 12 then rain again – from 3 40 to 4 wrote 4 pages and 1 p. of the envelope to Miss Walker - mention my call at Cliff Hill – her aunt will write to tell her to come home - ‘I shall not annoy myself about it, because I am sure you will take it as it ought to be taken, and merely be sorry that some of your friends are not wiser – what would Dr. Belcombe say?’ ...... The Priestleys nearly inquired after her - ....... ‘What is in their mind about Lidgate? My opinion is a fixed one because I see, and feel, more and more, that is right – when have you found yourself wrong in following my advice?’ To come here tomorrow if she likes, and if she comes during the assizes I shall not be one of the grumblers - anxious to hear what her sister says – suspect she is no better satisfied than the rest - ‘as things are at present, I shall not write to your sister - perhaps I have some right to expect that her great affection for you might give me some claim upon her thanks for all I have done for you – I have at least helped you in the [?] of a plan which wants nothing but perseverance, and this alone might deserve some notice for those to whom your welfare is so dear - But tell me you are doing so well, and all else will be comparatively indifferent’..... It seems an age since leaving her – tired of the words goodbye –‘I ate 2 of your oranges just before getting into bed last night, merely for the pleasure of thinking of you’. Then P-s would not advise her coming here - ‘In proportion as opposition will be in vain – talk will be greater ’. – Will send the dimensions of the north parlour fireplace in my next - may perhaps get Horner to sketch the side of the room - then wrote to Hutton to say I had received the pelisses, and wrote by this post to Messrs. Hammersleys and c° to pay him or demand the amount of his bill £10.6.6 - and wrote to Messrs. Hammersleys to pay Hutton as above and pay £5 to Messrs. Laffitte and c° Paris to be paid by them or demand to Mrs. Anne Tiler on account of Madame la comtesse Henrietta Virgile Galvani and shall be glad to know if Messrs. Laffitte have received the argenterie forwarded to them on my account from Calais by M. Quillacq and when they Hammersleys had received the answer to let me have their account - Dinner at 6 10 and then coffee in 50 minutes – Eugenie packed the box containing crape bonnet, worsteds, velvet brush and biscuits and my letter 4 pages and 1 page and ends and under the seal of envelope to ‘Miss Walker’ - containing printed note from Huddersfield and 4 half crowns in white paper written ‘sent by Miss Lister to Mrs. Bewleys’ 2 women servants Wednesday 5 March 1834’ - sent off the box by Thomas to go by tonight’s mail if taken for 5/. or 6/. or if not by Highflier and my letter to ‘Messrs. Hammersleys, Bankers, London’ and to Mr. Hutton, 114 Park street Grosvenor square London Postpaid’ and John’s letter to his son Joseph Booth (Mr. Scott’s white wall corner Malton) that I forgot when in York and so now send post paid - reading (to p.276) and making extract from 2nd series Waldensian Researches London 1831 - with my aunt from 9 10 to 10 - ¾ hour reading the morning Herald - Rainy day and evening except tolerably fair from about 11 to after 12 at noon - F now at 11 ½ pm in blue room 55° in my study (fire in the stove all day) 59°

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spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 1

Chapter: 1/12 Rating: T (for language) Content Warnings: Canon-typical Remus content. This chapter only: alcohol use Characters: All Pairings: Moceit, background Prinxiety, background Intrulogical (yes I played a little game of "pair the spares") Additional Tags: Hey it's the fic I published on Anon because I was embarrassed of how utterly pretentious it is!, post-PoF, sickfic, dirty poetry, humor interspersed with philosophy and Janus-typical pontification, this is VERY speculative and will get Jossed in the future lmao Summary: After claiming his place in the Light and coming face-to-face with the consequences of his actions, Janus finds himself unwillingly re-calibrating his moral compass. For selfish reasons, of course. But one apology snowballs into several, and soon he's running around the Mindscape with a low-grade fever and a guilty conscience as he desperately tries to regain some sense of self. Oh, and he's definitely not falling in love with Patton, so don't even bring it up. One Last Note: I wrote this in an ADHD fugue state. It is HEAVILY influenced by Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, but there are also references to poetry and various other works of literature. I also deliberately used symbols, themes, and motifs. Most of them are pretty in your face except for the recurring ouroboros, which is used as a symbol of rebirth. ...Told you it was pretentious.

When you wake up to the promise of your dream world comin' true With one less friend to call on, was it someone that I knew? Away you will go sailing in a race among the ruins If you plan to face tomorrow, do it soon

Janus appeared in the Dark side of the Mindscape, elation swelling in his chest. Even the ringing headache and bitter taste in his mouth couldn't hollow the unfamiliar triumph that warmed him to the core. Caught up in his own thoughts, it took a moment for him to register the sight before him: Remus, upside-down on the couch, his brow furrowed and face an alarming shade of purple.

For a moment, Janus stood stock-still as he tried to get his bearings. He must have been more flustered than he'd realized-- He'd been aiming for his bedroom.

But here he was, staring down at Remus, who was definitely going to burst a blood vessel (or several) if he didn't flip over soon.

"That's not horrifying at all," Janus said, thinking it would be rude to dismiss Remus, especially since he had probably been eavesdropping. He had likely heard everything. Everything. Even the ugly parts.

"Do you remember when Thomas read that post about Nutty Putty Cave?" Remus asked in a strained, strangled voice. "That spelunker who died because he got stuck upside-down?"

"No," Janus said, before realizing his mistake. "Yes." He definitely wanted Remus to remind him of the gory details.

"That's what I thought," Remus said with a wicked grin.

Janus sighed through his nose. Remus, though he thrived on attention, seemed content enough to continue his experiment by himself. On the other hand, if Janus didn't bring up a certain insult he'd levied at Roman, Remus most certainly would, and at a time where it would cause the most upset and turmoil. Better for Janus to deal with it now, even if he would have to fight the tension pulling his muscles taut. He wanted to dance. He wanted to scream.

Hesitation proved to be Janus' downfall, and by the time he'd opened his mouth to broach the subject at hand, Remus had beaten him to the blow. "You're not usually this quiet, Oralboros. Snake got your tongue?"

Janus, again, sighed. Rather than answer, he doffed his hat, set it on the coffee table, and clumsily arranged himself upside-down next to Remus. The change in position immediately made his head throb. He ignored it. "I definitely meant it when I called you 'evil'."

Remus' eyes widened in faux-shock. "You called me evil ?" he shrieked, voice ringing out high and clear. "Me? How dare you. I'm an angel!"

At least Remus was taking it well. "Sarcasm is my thing," Janus said, realizing that he might make it out of this without having to properly apologize.

For some reason, Patton's face flashed into his mind, and a subsequent twinge of guilt made his tongue go sour. Fine. If there was ever a time to start telling uncomfortable truths… "But I am sorry I said that."

"Wow!" Remus laughed. "You must be upset." A red stain began to spill across his left eye. "You don't apologize."

"It’s not like I care about your feelings or anything." Janus would have liked to have drawn himself up to his full height, but it was impossible to do while upside-down. "As much as I'm enjoying watching your blood vessels slowly burst, would you please turn over before you hurt yourself? I've suffered enough psychological trauma for today."

"Oh, fine." Remus kicked his legs and landed neatly on his toes like a gymnast.

Janus, by contrast, got his arms tangled in his capelet and nearly folded himself in half before he found his balance again. "I meant to do that," he said, turning to grab his hat so Remus wouldn't see the blush on his face.

The sudden sensation of blood draining from his head made the room whirl. He steadied himself against Remus' shoulder until it slowed somewhat, but nothing could dampen the horrible ringing in his ears.

"Well," he said, adjusting his shirt. The sudden appearance of his conscience had taken the wind out of his sails more than he cared to admit, and all thoughts of dancing bled out of him along with a good deal of energy. "I'm not going to go scream into my pillows until I tire myself out."

"Being an agent of chaos is hard work," Remus said with a sage nod, "but that doesn't sound very relaxing, Mr Self Care."

"It's a form of meditation, if you think about it," Janus said.

Remus made a face. "You know I don't do that."

"...Meditate?"

"No, think."

"Ah. Well." Janus made only a token attempt to hide his fond smile. "Good night, Remus. Please stay up late and injure yourself."

"Can do, Snakeypoo.”

Janus turned. It was close enough, he might as well walk to his bedroom, especially considering how well his last attempt at appearing in it had gone.

The reason why that had been so difficult became apparent in mere moments. Janus froze in the hall and dropped to his knees at the giddy wave of horror and delight that made him too light-headed to stand.

He knelt in front of the empty stretch of wall where his door had been previously. Heat flooded his face.

"Jay?" The rounded toes of Remus' boots appeared in his line of sight. Janus zeroed in on them, the mud splatters and stains on the soft leather. "You have an aneurysm or what?"

Janus, unable to speak, motioned for Remus to turn around. He couldn't deal with this right now.

"Ohhh," said Remus. "Well. Good luck with that ." He hauled Janus to his feet. "So you're a boner fide good guy now, huh?"

Janus stared over Remus' shoulder at the empty stretch of wall where his door used to be. "That depends entirely on who you ask."

Remus shrugged and rose up on his toes. "You can scream into my pillows instead, if you want."

"As tempting as that is…" Janus trailed off, his eyes still fixed on the wall. It was tempting, despite the constant chaos in Remus' room. But he'd have to face the Light side sooner or later. It wasn't like he could move his room back, not without psychologically damaging Thomas and undoing all the work he'd done. "I'm really looking forward to getting insulted some more."

"Alright," Remus said with a shrug. "Try not to throw me under the bus this time, alright? Unless it's a real bus…" His gaze became dreamy, unfocused. "And it's doing 50 in a school zone and there's a whole pack of screaming kids in the crosswalk--"

"Goodbye, Remus." Janus turned and left.

The barrier between the "dark" and the "light" sides of Thomas' brain had been a joint venture. It would have been there in some form no matter what, but it was Janus and Roman (with Patton's tacit blessing) who had worked to put up something more physical between them.

Janus ducked under the red curtain, trepidation percolating in his stomach, but what he found on the other side was anticlimactic to say the least: It was dead silent on this side of the barrier.

Janus wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. He knew by now that the so-called "Lights" had issues working out their interpersonal issues, and this most recent conflict wasn't the kind of thing you just got over. It did follow that they would all go off to lick their wounds for a time.

Hesitantly, toe-to-heel, Janus crept down the hall. It felt for all the world like he was sneaking around a vast hotel, right down to needlessly ornate design on the plush carpeting. That was probably Roman's doing.

Janus focused, trying to call the Mindscape to work for him. He wanted to go to his room.

The Mindscape listened. Janus turned a corner and found a row of doors stretching down yet another brightly-lit corridor. His eye was immediately drawn, not to the brilliant yellow of his own door, but to the figure huddled in front of it: Patton sat with his arms wrapped around his legs, forehead resting on his knees.

"Looking for someone?" Janus asked, slightly louder than necessary.

Patton jerked his head up. "Oh! Janus!" He plastered an unconvincing smile on his face. "You sure pop star-tled me."

Scaring Patton hadn't brought Janus nearly the level of schadenfreude he'd thought it would. He crossed his arms over his chest, extending a third to help Patton up. "Take your time getting to the point.”

"Oh." Patton accepted Janus' proffered hand and got to his feet. Warmth spilled from him, permeating the fabric of Janus' glove and gently heating his palm. "Well, it's just…" He took a deep breath. "I noticed your door and I thought-- Well, I wanted to make you feel welcome!"

A high-pitched tone resonated in Janus' skull. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing at the mounting pressure-pain-exhaustion in his temples. "Aren't you just a saint ." Patton's face fell. Janus fought the urge to swear aloud. He usually had a better handle on himself, and he knew better than to alienate potential allies. "I mean, thank you, Patton. Truly. I appreciate it." Patton had proven himself useful. Janus should at least cultivate that relationship, even if it meant a little discomfort.

"Have you eaten?" Patton asked. "It's a little late, but I could make something if you wanted." He paused. "Maybe we could play cards or something." Another pause. "O-only if you want to, I mean."

Janus let his face remain impassive even as he internally cringed at the idea of staying awake for even another second. It would be so easy to brush Patton off with a few honeyed words and disappear beyond the barrier of his door. But Patton had stood up for him today, or at least he'd tried to. Janus sighed. Quid pro quo. "That sounds like an utter waste of time."

"Are you… I'm sorry, sometimes I can't tell when you're…"

"Yes, Patton. That sounds lovely."

Patton actually hopped in place, an adorable little jig that absolutely didn't send a confusing little shockwave of fondness through Janus' ribcage. "Really?"

"Really," Janus lied.

He followed Patton down the hall into the living room, which opened into the dining room and the kitchen. Janus studied his surroundings, trying to take in as much as his exhausted faculties would allow. Even in the absence of other Sides, the living room felt warm and welcoming. All the lights were on, and they bathed everything in gentle golden light .

"You're awfully quiet," Patton said.

Janus shook himself. "I was just getting my bearings."

"I guess you've never really been over here, huh?" Pattton opened the refrigerator. Was he actually going to cook , instead of just manifesting something? How quaint. "Do you like grilled cheese?"

It had been a long, confusing day. Doublespeak came to Janus as naturally as breathing, but he was obviously running circles around Patton even when he wasn't trying to. "Yes," he said, hoping to telegraph his sincerity by not emoting at all.

It seemed to work. Patton studied him for a moment before turning back to the fridge. "Then that's what I'll make."

Janus took advantage of this temporary distraction to clamber onto one of the barstools. The slick velvet of his capelet tended to disagree with surfaces like wood and vinyl, and he needed a moment to arrange things so he didn't look as unbalanced as he felt.

He watched Patton work in the kitchen, a detached coolness washing out the scene. Quid pro quo, he reminded himself when he felt his facade begin to slip. He owed Patton this.

He certainly didn't feel the slightest twinge of guilt, that he had been the one to orchestrate this breakdown. Yes, the Light Sides had loaded the gun, but in the end it was Janus who had pulled the trigger.

He shook his head and thought about playing cards, good Bicycle playing cards with holes punched through them like they'd come from a casino. "What should we play?" he asked, pulling the deck from his breast pocket.

Patton looked up from the stovetop, his eyes flicking to the cards in Janus' hand. "Do you know Kings in the Corners?"

"Not personally, no."

Patton laughed, but there was something cold about it. "It's really simple," he said. "I'll show you how to play and you can tell me if you like it."

It was nearly impossible to cheat at Kings in the Corners. Janus doubted this had been a calculated measure on Patton's part, doubted he had the capacity for that kind of foresight, but he respected it just the same.

They played in funereal silence, staring each other down across the light wood of the dining room table. Janus, ill-inclined to take off his gloves, utilized a napkin to keep from staining them with melted butter from the grilled cheese Patton had made. Neither one of them smiled. Neither one of them spoke.

Janus pulled a card from the deck to indicate the end of his turn and glanced up at Patton. His face was somber, almost sorrowful, and it clashed against the gentle domesticity of the dining room, with its floral table runner and mismatched placemats.

Janus started to laugh.

"What is it?" Patton asked, cheeks darkening. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Janus swallowed down another peal of laughter and cleared his throat, unable to wholly restrain the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You look like I’m holding you here at gunpoint." It was somewhat ironic, considering Janus was the one who felt like he couldn't leave.

"What?" Patton smiled, but it was more akin to an offering than an expression of joy.

"It’s not really funny. " Janus wasn’t quite sure how to make Patton understand.

Patton sat back with a sigh, placing his cards facedown on the table. "But I guess it is pretty funny, huh? In a really sad way."

Janus almost asked what was sad about it before realizing that Patton probably missed his friends. Instead he said, "Yes" and stifled a yawn behind his free hand.

"I'll make coffee!" Patton leapt to his feet and was off to the kitchen before Janus could so much as blink.

The newfound solitude made it that much harder for Janus to ignore his headache, which had only worsened in the hour or so he'd been playing cards with Patton. Despite the nonchalant facade he'd tried so hard to project, he'd been holding himself tense.

Maybe the night (or morning, at this point) would be easier to tolerate if he had, say, a bit of gold rum.

The corner of a flask dug into Janus' hip. He smiled.

"Just how late are you planning on staying up?" he asked Patton when the latter returned holding two mismatched mugs.

"Oh, I don't know," Patton said. Lied. He set a mug down in front of Janus and then resumed his seat, the cards forgotten by his elbow. "I'm… A little scared of what tomorrow will be like."

Janus eased the flask out of his pocket. "Rum?"

"Oh, um," Patton said, staring at the flask. "I don't know…"

Janus raised an eyebrow, working something out. He landed on it a millisecond later: Patton wanted to be convinced. Easy enough. Janus opened the flask and poured what he hoped was a shot into his own mug. It was black, he noticed, except for the yellow snake that wrapped around it, its tail firmly in its own mouth. Ouroboros. "Surely you don't intend to make me drink alone?"

As Janus had expected, Patton buckled the second he was pushed. "I guess not."

It was funny, Janus mused as he carefully tipped rum into Patton's coffee, how lying was only off-limits when Janus suggested it. Hilarious.

But now wasn't the time for bitterness, now was the time to repay the debt he owed Patton. "Cheers," he said, pocketing the flask once more.

"Cheers."

Janus sipped his coffee. "You put milk in this," he observed.

Patton's smile was surprisingly sly. "I know you want me to think you take it black. Virgil did too, at first. I know you ‘Dark Sides’ have an image you like to uphold."

"And how does Virgil take his coffee now?" Janus asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"With Snickers-flavored creamer."

"Well, I do take my coffee black," Janus lied.

Patton's smile never faltered. "We'll see, kid-- Uh, Janus."

"Patton," Janus said, before he could start thinking about the implications of Patton wanting to call him 'kiddo,' "you are planning on sleeping tonight, aren't you?"

"Maybe eventually," Patton said, suddenly unable to look Janus in the eye. "At some point."

"Tomorrow will come whether or not you sleep. It's definitely better to pull an all-nighter and feel like garbage instead of facing everything with a clear head."

"I know." Patton leaned forward so he could rest his head on his hand.

For a moment, Janus was tempted to mirror him. Sitting up straight was becoming quite the chore. "I know how the others love a calm, rational discussion."

"Oh, I wish." Patton's expression turned wistful.

Janus stifled a yawn behind his hand. He had half-expected the coffee to counteract the depressant effect of the alcohol, but all he had to show for the combination was a racing heart.

"I'll be fine out here if you want to go to bed," Patton said. Without seeming to realize he was doing it, he brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on his thumbnail.

It was a tempting offer. A day ago, Janus would have taken it. After all, it wasn't like he cared about Patton outside of professional courtesy. They weren't friends. But guilt nagged at him and wouldn't let him entertain the idea of abandoning Patton for longer than a second.

"That's a remarkable impression of a window," Janus said, waiting for Patton to look confused before elaborating, "I can see right through you."

"You got me." Patton smiled sadly. "That's something I've always admired about you, Janus."

Now it was Janus' turn to be confused. "What?"

"You're so… clever."

Janus narrowed his eyes. "Please do keep trying to change the subject."

"It's just… I don't want to have to lie there and, and think about today and everything I did wrong. I hurt Thomas. I hurt my friends." Patton's eyes were shiny behind his glasses; the unshed tears sparkled in the light when he locked eyes with Janus. "Aren't you going to think about the same thing?"

Anger flared, perhaps prematurely, in Janus' chest. "About what you did wrong today?"

"About what you did wrong," Patton said timidly.

"I," Janus said icily, "didn't do anything wrong." He stared Patton down across the table, jaw set, daring him to push back. Let him lecture and nag, let him prove that he hadn't changed no matter what he said.

But Patton only nodded, his face lined with misery. "Okay," he softly. "I think you're right, Janus. We should go to bed."

Janus thought about how much faster he could get to bed if the table was cleared, and all the dishes and cards vanished in a blink.

"Um, Janus?" Patton said.

"Yes?"

"I don't regret everything that happened today."

"Oh?"

Patton only nodded and sank out.

Janus made a beeline for his own room; better to find his way there on foot rather than risk appearing in the wrong spot.

Once inside, he looked around to ensure nothing was amiss, eyes roving over the dark wood of his bookshelves and desk, his mirrored closet doors, the leather armchairs across from his bed.

Everything was exactly as Janus had left it. He nodded, satisfied, set his hat on the nightstand, and sprawled out of top of the covers without bothering to further undress.

One hazy thought crawled to the surface of his mind before he fell asleep: At least he wouldn't be one of the regrets haunting Patton tonight.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #janus sanders #moceit #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured is: race among the ruins - gordon lightfoot #pics are free to use from unsplash and wikimedia commons

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angelaiswriting · 4 years

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Closer | Hugo Stiglitz x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Hugo Stiglitz x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: stranded in a spooky village, Stiglitz confesses his feelings, but she’s caught off-guard and panics. Back at the base, though, she’d like to see where the future takes them. (Requested by my new and unexpected love for this man)

✏️ Prompts by peaskyblonders (link below): # 4, 5, 7, 19, 20

✏️ A/N: the truth is, I should write more blowjobs instead of fearing new fandoms. HAHA. Italics are supposed to be German (unless it’s for emphasis). Prompts used are in bold. Kudos to @kind-wolf for throwing this new obsession at me without warning 💛 Also, please, for the love of all that is holy, listen to Closer by Kings of Leon (it probably has close to nothing to do with this story, but I had it on loop as I wrote and it’s absolutely stunning – and it did give me a title in a time of need).

✏️ Warnings: 18+ ONLY (oral m/r, sex... haha + mentions of a bullet wound and of someone who’s not a pro poking around in it + plot... eh, kinda there, kinda a decoration lol)

✏️ Word-count: 4,785

“Stop whining, it’s just a bullet!”

The voices in the room gradually quiet down to a churchyard silence when Y/N groans, surgical pliers still poking around in the hole in Smithson Utivich’s leg and face set into a frown. English sounds weird on her tongue, almost cut down with the wrong kind of knife, and there’s no safe hiding place for her German origins.

‘It’s just a bullet’ in my fucking leg – they all know those are the words Utivich was about to spit out like burning venom before he opts for the safest solution, the one that lies in silence. There’s a reason if her German accent keeps on being so prominent when she speaks English and that’s because she just does not speak English unless she absolutely has to. She’s more similar to Stiglitz in this than anyone would ever dare express out loud – she either speaks German or French, or she doesn’t speak at all.

“I should leave it in here,” she mutters again when Utivich’s leg jolts up and someone – Andy – has to step forward and keep it pushed down on the table. “You’d deserve it, stupid idiot.”

“It was an accident,” Smithson mumbles, voice low and full of embarrassment. Just half an hour ago he had been outside by a fire, drinking with the guys, until Donny convinced him to play some trick with what should have been an unloaded gun. “And you don’t have to take it out, we can wait for Wicki.”

When the door opens, everybody turns into its direction holding their breath, but it’s not Wicki.

“What happened here?” Aldo asks, brows set into an unconvinced frown as his gaze lands on Utivich first and then Y/N.

“Stupid Americans, that’s what happened.” But then she sighs, shrugs her shoulders, and pulls the bullet out of the man’s wound. “Children shouldn’t play with guns,” she glares. “Someone get off their ass and go call a fucking nurse.”

When half the men in the room scramble out, almost stepping on each other’s feet, Aldo Raine steps forward. He’s expression is set and unreadable as he examines Smith’s leg and a couple of minutes go by before he speaks again. “I need you and Stiglitz on a mission. I have an informer down south that says there’s a couple of Nazis you two might have the pleasure to take out.”

“How’s our exit?” Stiglitz asks, crouching down next to Y/N and taking the binoculars she’s passing him. She’s tense and he can see right through her façade, right through that ‘I don’t fear this has all gone to shit’ mask she’s been wearing for the past few days.

“Still no sign of our guy,” comes her whisper when he finally brings the field glasses to his face and stares off into the distance. “I’m scared, Stiglitz,” she confesses right after, before that temporary bravery stops her from opening up like that. “I have a bad feeling about this. It’s the same I had the day we got arrested.”

He says nothing to that, just stares at the horizon for another minute before he hands her back the binoculars and moves to sit down, his back against the wall of the abandoned house. It’s a spooky village, the one they’re using as their hideout, and the temperature during the day has already started to scratch like an angry cat. Winter is approaching quickly and right there, in the skeleton of what was once somebody’s home, there’s no running away from it.

“I should have gone myself,” she goes on as she scoots closer to him in search of some warmth. “Raine doesn’t know how these people work. You just can’t trust them. He thinks he can, but…” Her rambling dies down and he knows she’s thinking back to that night she’s had to take a bullet out of Utivich’s leg. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just does. He’s worked with her long enough to just be able to understand how her mind works.

“We’ll get back.” It sounds like a promise on his lips and whether he means it as such or not, it’s met with a soft sigh as she relaxes against his side, her head falling back in surrender against the wall. We’ll get back, the words echo in his mind and he does his best to believe them like she at least pretends to.

Neither of them says it out loud, but that’s why they’ve always worked solo – or just with each other after they met back in Bavaria. They’re good at this, good at driving Nazis out, and even better at taking them out. Not as good as the Basterds consider them, but they get the job done and move on to the next name on the list. They jump from name to name and never collab with anyone – or so it used to be before their arrest. Now they’re made to trust other people and that’s just not what they’re used to. You don’t go trust the next person; you don’t lay your life in their hands if you don’t know who they are and what they’ve done to survive.

“You should try and get some sleep,” he says when her stomach complains. Had they known how things would go, they would have packed more food. But they’ve had to ration what little they managed to stash into their backpacks before fleeing the town Raine had sent them to, and now they have to face the consequences. “I’ll keep watch, wake you up in a few hours.”

The old boards of the parquet creak under his boots when he stands up but it almost feels like those are his bones, turned cold and brittle by the still young winter. It’s surely not that long, but the last time he’s laid down feels like it belongs to a past life. A split second before he takes the first step forward, toward one of the rifles they left in a corner of the room with their stuff, her fingers wrap around his wrist and he’s rooted to the spot.

“How long has it been since you slept?” She tugs his arm when she stands up, inhaling sharply when half of her weight comes to rest on the foot she sprained the day before. And even though she’s been trying to shrug it off – because that’s what she does: she clenches her jaw and moves forward, that’s how it’s always been and probably how it always will be – he knows it’s been bothering her every time they move.

And much like her, he shrugs his shoulders once, frees his hand from her gentle grasp, and moves to pick his rifle up. It’s always a comforting weight in his arms but as he peeks from the empty hole that had once been a window, the heavy clouds in the sky make it feel like some sick kind of doom.

“Don’t do this, Stiglitz. Don’t close me off again.”

He doesn’t turn around when he corrects her – Hugo, not Stiglitz.

You never let anyone call you that – that’s what the look in her eyes tells when he eventually turns around and finds her staring at him. He’s been with her long enough and after a while, you just start reading people. All the unspoken words are paint strokes on a face that’s better than an open book; on a face that’s more like a canvas.

“Hugo.” The smile that stretches her lips is the tired shadow of what he knows could fool Nazis before he stepped in, his weapon of choice in his hands. “You go to sleep. I’m fine, really. By the looks of it,” she continues, hinting at the sky with a movement of her head as she stretches her arm out for him to hand her the rifle, “no one will come: it’s going to start snowing soon.”

He wakes up to a snow-clad scenery outside the open window – and to snowflakes dancing in the chilly air a few meters from him, in that opening (one of many) nobody’s stuck around long enough to fix. The snowflakes flutter as they fall, and it almost looks like white flour. It’s been a while since he last saw flour with his own eyes and that’s what tears him from the cozy embrace of slumber and brings him back to reality.

The smoky tendrils of a past life still alive in his dreams are still caressing the edges of his mind, though, faint echoes that mix together into unintelligible whispers. They stuff him with cotton and he needs a few minutes to feel the hard floor underneath his back, the chilly air biting at his cheekbones and nose.

There’s enough light for it to be day already and as that realization dawns down on him, wrapped as he is in his cold blanket, he jolts up to sitting.

“No one came, I told you.”

His head turns to the side so quickly he gets whiplash.

“And it snowed all night.” Her eyes are sunken in, her eyelids heavy with missed sleep and the constant worries that are gnawing at her from the inside and from which he still hasn’t managed to distract her. Shoulders weighed down by an invisible weight, she looks smaller and less dangerous than she really is.

“You didn’t wake me up.” His voice is still drowsy; the words don’t roll as freely on his tongue, so the accusation comes out as a simple observation.

She smiles. I never said I would, the faint twinkle in her eyes seems to say. “We’re waiting one more day,” she decides as she comes to a stand, stiffened hands still holding onto the rifle she’s hugged to her chest like a child the whole night. “But tomorrow at dawn we’re leaving, I don’t care about Raine’s spy.”

Silence settles again between them when she sits down next to him, in the corner further away from the chilly winds outside. They share her last chocolate bar, something she’s clung on to ever since she won it at poker more than two weeks ago. He stares at her as she eats, her head resting against the wall and her eyes closed. There’s a tear trickling down her cheek and it takes the dust that has settled on her skin away.

“I think I might be falling in love with you.” His confession hangs in the air, in the closed space between them. And all he can do is stare as that tear slowly rolls down her cheekbone. He can’t even remember when the last time he ate chocolate was and now that he has a piece in his hands, he can’t even chew on it.

Her eyes open slowly and she looks at him almost from underneath her lashes, her head still tilted back and at an angle. For the first time, he can’t read them as they focus on him, bore right into him.

He’s a man of few words. He opens up, but only with the right people and only so much. And he knows she’s just the same – bad at opening up, but not at talking – she talks maybe too much at times and while it would annoy him if it were someone else, he’s alright with her babbling on and on. About the weather, about the next target, about how stupid people are, how hungry she is, but never about before. Who she was, what she did, where she lived, whom she loved – those are still well-guarded secrets, and Stiglitz is not one to pry.

“Don’t.” She swallows hard eventually, almost as though she’s trying to swallow down her voice – or his confession. “There’s a war out there.” Her eyes move to his right, to the blown-open window behind him on the opposite side of the room. “People are dying.” Her jaw clenches and as she swallows, he sees her struggle, her attempt at not crying. “If something happens…”

He sits in silence, eyes set on her as hers try to avoid him. They do their best but ‘their best’ doesn’t seem to cut it, not this time.

“We fuck, that’s it. Just… fuck, from time to time.” It’s a whisper and her lower lip quivers as his words still shake her bones. When did war stop being scary? When did love become something to fear? Neither of them knows. Was it the first time they killed? The first time they enjoyed it? The moment they understood they had to keep on doing it in order to survive?

When she turns to look at him, it’s a desperate animal the one sitting in front of him. Her eyes beg him to stop, to take it all back, because they both know where that if something happens is bound to end. And it’s not six feet under, but rather, somewhere up there, on the surface; face up or face down into the mud, it doesn’t really matter. Maybe that’s what brought her to murder, he reasons for a second; maybe she’s lost someone she loved and that turned her into a spy and a murderer that knows no mercy.

Her hand is trembling as it digs into the pocket of his jacket, the one where she keeps cigarettes – they’re usually for him, but she never turns down a smoke, either. He knows it’s empty, for they smoked their last one two days ago, a crumpled up cigarette that seemed to last less than a minute that day.

“I’ll check the perimeter,” he eventually says, laying the last of his chocolate bar in her hands. He doesn’t meet her eyes, doesn’t utter another word as he takes the revolver from his pallet and leaves the room.

Three days later they’re both back at the camp base – no resentment between them, just the usual, content silence of two people that don’t always need to talk to work just fine. But while everything seems normal on the surface and they both enjoy the welcome-back celebrations at the tavern, they’re both lost in their own thoughts.

Hugo has stopped thinking about the fact that maybe he made a mistake when he confessed his feelings to her. Because she was right – there is a war out there, and it’s not even that far away, no matter how distracting the passing of shots of alcohol might now be. He stopped being a sentimentalist years ago, but if there’s a conclusion he’s come to, it’s that it’s better to spend your last days next to the people you love than running away from them.

There’s a couple of occasions in which he almost told her that.

The first was when they found a working telephone. Clothes soaked by snow and weapons now heavier than their backpacks, they sat in that empty house for hours, after calling one of Raine’s safe numbers, some French family collaborating with the Allies on the other end of the line. He had fixed the makeshift splint keeping her ankle in place and had reasoned, for the first time, that she shouldn’t have come, not this time.

The second was when they got back and the nurse managed to take her in only after the debriefing. She had smiled a I’ll find you later as Wicki dragged him away and the first thought his mind could form had been that he was glad that she seemed to always be able to find him anywhere.

But even though they’re sitting right next to each other now, shoulder pressed against shoulder as everyone seems like they want to sit at the same table, he can’t turn around and shake her awake. Why would he, though?

“We thought we’d never see the two of you again!” Donowitz is tipsy already and he doesn’t seem to notice how his drink sloshes out of his glass every time he moves his arm to gesticulate as he speaks. “Fucking bastards! You have nine lives, just like cats!”

Wicki’s laughter seems to drown out the roaring of the celebrations when he laughs. “I told them you’d both come back on your legs, still breathing,” he chuckles in German.

Y/N joins Wilhelm’s burst of laughter and then turns to her left and smiles up at him. It’s a weird thing, it reaches her eyes more than it does her lips and she seems on the verge of saying something before she shakes her head once and finishes her beer.

It’s midnight when she knocks at his door. Her knocking seems to echo through the whole once-abandoned house the Basterds converted into a place to stay, at least temporarily, for everyone’s still out drinking the winter away.

“I didn’t mean to turn you down,” are the words that greet him when he opens the door. He’s still only half-dressed after the bath he’s finally managed to take. “Back in that house. I got scared at the idea of something that might not even happen and I’ve spent the past few days thinking about what a gigantic fool I’ve been when I said those things. You took me off-guard because I thought I’d never love again, but…” She breathes in sharply and looks up at him, stares right into his eyes for the first time as she realizes she’s been rambling again. “Can I come in?”

Hugo nods and takes a step to the side before closing the door behind her. “You don’t have to say anything. I understand.”

“Oh, you and Wicki have a heater.” It’s soft and he almost misses it, but it’s gone before he can reply and she’s already back on the topic she’s most likely come to discuss. “I don’t know what I feel for you.” She doesn’t turn around when she speaks. Instead, she holds her hands close to the stove and sighs under her breath before she squares her shoulders again. “But I would like to find out, when we win this war. A while after you left, Raine started talking about how we’re all going to America when we take out the High Command and I realized that I could leave all of them behind but I couldn’t leave you.”

“I never considered the idea of leaving before.” He moves to stand next to her and hangs the towel he’s used on one of the hangers above the heater. “But we could,” he nods, turning towards her.

She’s looking at him this time, tired eyes staring at him from an even more tired face. But before she can add anything, he pulls her in and kisses her. He’s always preferred actions over words – words can be misinterpreted, but some actions…

Her hands are trembling when they move over his hips and then up his back, over the scars ridging his skin. She’s one of the few who’ve seen them – he’s not ashamed of them, but he does feel weird at the idea of showing them to others. It felt natural with her, though, almost as though they weren’t even there to begin with, the first time they slept together fully naked. It just, happened, it fell into place like anything else about her. She just fits in his arms, to his side, and when he’s inside her, his hips grinding against hers as they both lose themselves into each other and forget for a few precious moments what their survival revolves around.

“How’s your foot?” he asks in between kisses when he picks her up to lay her down onto his bed.

“Foot’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she laughs, her tone getting louder when he just drops her onto the mattress. Her laughter dies down when he settles between her legs, props himself up above her, his nose barely brushing hers. She smiles as he observes her, swipes his gaze across her features and breathes her in.

He contemplates saying something, but whatever innocence he had left at the beginning of his story has been swept away with his words by the things he’s done. He only moves when she speaks again – Kiss me, Hugo. That he does; he leans down and presses his lips against hers for a moment before his tongue comes out to swipe along her lower lip.

Her knuckles brush against his chest every time her hands move as they unbutton her shirt, a too-big garment she’s been given by God knows who. By the time she’s reached the last button and his mouth has moved down along her jaw and her neck to kiss her chest, she’s panting lightly, her hands wrapped around his biceps as he smiles against her skin.

She’s warm and smooth, even though there are irregular scars marking her skin. Just like his, they never matter, and even less when they get into bed together. His fingers just caress her and she this close to him is the only thing that truly matters in this moment. He kisses her collarbones, nudges his nose against the side of a breast before he allows himself to close his eyes and take a nipple into his mouth.

He feels the moan more than he hears it, it vibrates deep into her chest and almost buzzes against his lips as her fingers rake upward through his short hair. There’s a breathy moan of his name before his kisses and licks move lower down.

“I know for sure that I’m falling in love with you.” He’s serious when he says it, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper of her pants. Then, as he drags them down her legs with her underwear, he smiles at her. Sometimes he thinks that he only remembers how to smile when she’s around, almost as though she’s always able to swap his grimace with an actual sign of happiness.

She smiles back at him – at his words, at how caringly he removes her left boot, almost as though his only priority is not to revive the dull pain in her ankle. And then at how he covers her body once again, at how he looks down at her with that unreadable expression of his that just makes her fall for him a bit more every time.

It’s not love – she doesn’t want to call it love, but it sure does make her feel all warm inside as it tugs at the corners of her mouth even now, with her fingertips lightly tracing the lines of his face. Forehead, cheekbones, jaws, and then his lips, and he smirks when she outlines them.

When she pushes him onto his back and she moves over him, straddles his thighs, it’s sudden and unexpected, but surely not unwelcome, and he lets her do. His hands move up her thighs and hold onto her hips, and her bare body above him somehow makes his heart swell with pride. A thought crosses his mind, but it lasts only for a fraction of second before she leans down and pecks his lips once, and then once more – yeah, he could do this all day every day, even in America, if it means staying by her side.

Her lips trail down the column of his throat, then, before moving to the crook of his neck. She kisses and suckles as she grinds down against him, and he doesn’t care if he’ll have marks tomorrow – he won’t, because they’re both careful, but one day he’s sure he will – and she will as well.

She says something then, something he doesn’t catch, before she takes his hands in hers and moves further down his body, leaves kisses all over his chest and belly. For a moment, they both giggle, and she looks up at him with those eyes of hers that just, make him forget about the war and the Basterds and anything in-between.

She’s quick at unbuttoning his pants, but not so much at taking them off his body. She takes her time, and the lower she pulls them, the more kisses she leaves on his navel and then thighs. It’s funny and sexy at the same time, and when he’s fully naked and she’s kneeling between his legs again, that’s truly all he craves for at the moment.

“Come here,” he says, but she shakes her head, a smirk tugging at her lips, and bends down towards him.

He’s hard in her hands and when her lips press a kiss to the underside of his dick, he groans in the back of his throat. The muscles in his thighs tense when she takes him in her mouth, and his exhale is shaky as he does his best not to move his hands over her head.

It’s slow and slippery as she focuses on the head of his dick – suckles and kisses and licks, before taking him deeper every now and then, her hand slowly working the rest of his erection. Hugo Stiglitz is rarely ever vocal in the bedroom, but when someone – when she – is going down on him…

“Fuck.” Quick and breathy, almost like a half-formed word, that ‘fuck’ leaves his lips when she moans around him.

His breath almost hitches in his throat when she pulls up and smiles at him while repositioning to straddle his thighs again. He’s still in her hand and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring himself to look away from that sight. It lasts less than he thinks it does, though, because before he has the time to move his hands over her hips again, she’s sinking down on him.

She’s warm, and wet, and when she rests her left hand on his chest to balance herself as she takes all of him into her, her hands are wet.

His hips thrust up at the mental picture of her fingering herself and as he does so, she almost loses her balance. They both giggle, but when he moves to sit up, she pushes him back down and grinds her hips against his.

“Stay down,” she whispers against his skin, lips brushing right next to his left nipple before she leaves a kiss there.

The rhythm she sets is slow and sensual, something neither of them is used to – or has been used to for a while, now. It’s a nice change compared to the usual, almost-too-quick routine that’s just hunger and desperate, desperate need. It’s good, and Hugo Stiglitz finds himself relaxing underneath her, for once, hands moving from her hips to her back when she presses herself down against him. His hips start thrusting up into her, and he does his utmost best to keep it just as slow, but the feel of her around him just drives him delirious.

Her lips latch onto his pulse point again and when she starts licking and sucking, he swears his temperature spikes up. His head leans back into the pillows, neck almost arching, and his thrusts get quicker and snappier the tighter he holds her against himself. Her breathing grows shorter and every time he thrusts up, he can hear as her moans get stuck in her throat.

It’s a while later that the door creaks open and Wicki slurs Stiglitz’s name in his drunken, post-celebratory state. Hugo hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed and there’s still a smile on his lips.

“Hugo,” Y/N whispers against the side of his neck, still naked and still laying between his arms, one leg thrown over his hips as his own leg rests between hers.

He nods his head against hers, but she knows he’s already falling asleep. They went at it again as soon as he flipped their positions over, and she should have known better than to agree on spending the night.

She whispers his name again when Wicki starts fumbling over the words of a song she doesn’t recognize, too distorted by his drunkenness. “Please, Hugo, you know he can’t hold his liquor!”

“Y/N!” Wicki almost yells her name when he finally switches on the light and finds her in his friend’s bed. “‘S good to see you again.”

She’s quick at turning back around, pulling the blanket over herself to cover her body from the other man’s eyes. “Stiglitz, come on! You need to wake up. I can’t do this without you.” But when she tilts her head up on the pillow and her eyes land on Hugo and that faint smile of his still plastered to his lips, she knows there’s no way in hell he’s waking up again soon.

Feel free to leave feedback xo I hope Stiglitz wasn’t too OOC but the truth is, idgaf, I just had to write about the man of my dreams haha

Links: prompts by peaskyblonders https://peaskyblonders.tumblr.com/post/622451655662845952/random-prompt-list // photo used for the banner https://www.pexels.com/it-it/foto/albero-freddo-ghiacciato-innevato-909016/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ASK)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

#angelaiswriting #inglourious basterds #hugo stiglitz #hugo stiglitz imagine #hugo stiglitz fanfic #hugo stiglitz smut #hugo stiglitz x reader

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

I signed up for this

TITLE: I signed up for this.

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her.

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: Decided to challenge myself to a speed run. Wrote this in under an hour. So, be weary of any issues with continuity. I hope you enjoy it, anyway!

Based on an Imagine by @imagine-loki.

Loki let out a weary sigh as he fell backwards onto the creaky, uncomfortable single bed. His feet peeked more than a few inches off the bottom, though his head was nearly flush to the headboard. In another life, he would have grumbled about the furnishings not being lush enough, the bed not cradling him in near weightlessness. Right now, he was just happy it was supporting his weight after that hasty repair last week.

It was no matter; he slept in a ball anyway. If he slept.

“I actually might tonight,” he muttered to himself.

The more he rested, the more he became aware of the ache in his fingers and the sting of his raw knuckles. Though years ago those injuries might have befallen him from battle, or a spar, today his pains came from scrubbing a floor clean on his hands and knees. Loki was no longer that god burdened with glorious purpose. He was just another mortal with a couple of thousand years head-start on life. After Odin’s swift (but not entirely merciful) judgement following the disaster in New York, he had been stripped of nearly every morsel of magic in his veins and hand-delivered to Neighborhood Pals, an organization designed to do tasks for those in need.

Carl had been his first assignee, helping him around the rec room of the community center. The man, bent in his old age had not been much of a fuss. In fact, Loki found that he liked talking to old codger, as irritatingly perceptive as he was.

Which was why when he went to drop off some groceries after not seeing him in the community center for a few days, and seen the lived-in grime of the floors, rotten food in the pantry and soiled linens stacked high, Loki had nearly snapped. He demanded to know why his family was not taking care of him better. Carl said that his daughter used to take care of him, but trailed off before he had relayed a full explanation. It had not taken Loki more a minute to piece it together. His daughter was dead and it was his fault. And so, he took his frustration and rage on every square inch of the property until it gleamed.

The trilling mobile in his pocket made Loki groaned. Fishing through the pocket of his trousers, he pulled the damn thing out and answered without glancing at the ID. Only one person ever called him.

“Yes?”

“Hello to you, too, Sourpuss.”

Loki groaned once more. Having Stark as liaison between Odin and the tasks he was assigned was hell. He supposed it was even more irritating because Stark had not even had the decency to be short with him this entire time and that annoyed Loki to no end. It was hard to find hatred when you were given nothing to work with. Loki sighed, sitting up and running his free hand over his shortened locks–a parting gift from some Asgardian guards that Frigga had to fix, later. The little tuft of hair at the top was reminiscent of when he was much younger.

“I was just going to inform you that Carl left a really nice review on your work today. What did you do, take him to see the hot babes?”

“Got him drunk and high. I’m surprised he didn’t die of an overdose,” he replied after a long while. Tony guffawed down the line. Loki nowadays was all bark and no bite, he would say.

“Well, I have your schedule for tomorrow. I’m going to send you an address and you will be there at 9 am, sharp.”

“And after?”

“Nope, she’s your whole day. Name’s Charlie and she is blind, so be extra careful with sudden movements.” Loki hummed his assent and hung up. Sometime later, sleep overtook him.

…

It was 8:59a when he rapped on the door. “Neighborhood pal.” He felt ridiculous every time he announced his presence that way, but it was required of him, per Tony’s rules. A lot of the time people were convalescent, and couldn’t physically get the doors themselves They needed a warning before Loki simply let himself inside.

Just beyond the door, there was movement and quiet muttering. Loki waited with bated breath for the sounds to come nearer, and instead was rewarded by a large crash and a muffled goddammit. Loki tried the doorknob to find it unlocked, and he pushed the door in, immediately gasping.

On the floor, surrounded by glass was a woman, on her knees. She was wearing mismatching purple jeans with an orange top that seemed to be inside out. Her feet were bare and it looked like she attempted a plait on her long brown hair and grew frustrated, halfway through. Next to her was an overturned coffee table from where the glass had come from and she tried to find purchase for her hands on the floor to leverage herself up and succeeding only in getting shards stuck in her palms.

“Stop!” Loki’s voice barely traveled over the sound of her gasping sobs. “Stop, I’ll help you up.” He stepped over some larger pieces of what he thought was a vase and put his hand on her shoulder, where she immediately flinched away.

“Get off me!”

Loki fought the urge to step backwards. He wanted to leave, somehow convince himself that it was in everyone’s best interest… but there was glass all around and she looked small and helpless.

“Sorry. Sorry. Should’ve warned you. I’m going to pull you up. Do not plant your feet.” Loki wrapped an arm around her torso and plucked her straight off the ground. His strength came in handy sometimes, and with a few short steps, he had deposited her on a soft grey sofa. “Don’t touch your face. You have glass in your hands. Let me clean this up and I’ll pull it out in a moment.”

He noticed she was struggling to stop her empty gaze on where she thought he might be. They were a beautiful shade of hazel, he also noted, that wouldn’t see another single sunset because of him. Tears ran tracks down her tanned skin, though she had stopped sobbing. Now, she only looked irritated? Disgusted? Angry?

“Do all monsters have such soft voices?”

Loki’s breath hitched. Definitely angry. And so skilled at finding the wound and prodding. “I’ll be back to pull the glass, Charlie.”

Wordlessly, he retreated. After a little digging, he found a broom and swept up the broken glass, righted the coffee table and tidied up the area, every so often glancing over his shoulder to look at Charlie. She seemed uncertain about moving from the spot he dropped her in, fearing another accident if she ventured further. She did, however, fiddle with her hands, grasping bits of crystal and pulling them from her skin.

“I found the Aiding kit,” he announced quietly, coming to kneel before her. “You shouldn’t pick at your hands. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Charlie scoffed. “What? Will I put my eye out? Will I be reduced to a whimpering child who can’t remember where her coffee table is anymore? Will I be forced to live off of Tony Stark’s charity because I can’t work anymore? Stop me when you hear the right reason, by the way.”

He stuttered dumbly before he found his words. “I-I am sorry.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m magically cured!” She gestured her surroundings. “All I needed was the most insincere apology on Earth from the vilest creature to have ever roamed it. Now I’m all good!”

The words and her tone stung, he had to admit. Most people avoided talking to Loki about the attack–it seemed to be human nature to avoid the pain of conflict. One or two people were angry and gave Loki an earful before he was allowed to do his work, but Charlie had been the first to actually hurt him. He was a monster. This wasn’t enough. He didn’t know how to fix it.

Loki thanked his lucky stars for one small miracle: her lack of vision meant she couldn’t see the tears that beaded onto his eyelashes. He cleared his throat, reaching for her hands. To her credit, she didn’t even flinch and he turned them palm-side up on her lap to pull jagged pieces of transparent glass out of the shallow scratches with a pair of tweezers. Her eyes had finally (though possibly not on purpose) fallen onto him and her blank gaze stayed unerringly glued to his form as if she were cataloguing him. He felt strangely pinned down by her stare.

After wiping down her palms with an antiseptic wipe, he allowed Charlie pull her hands away from his grip. The barest corner of her mouth curled in a half-snarl, clearly annoyed about having had to rely on her own personal demon for help.

“I apologize for the rough introduction–”

“Rough introduction was when you soared over the city in a battle cruiser with the hopes to enslave us. I don’t think a smile and good customer service would do much to change that, Loki.” Loki opened his mouth to interject a defense, but was cut off before any words formed. “I had a life and a job and a boyfriend. I could fucking see! You are only here because Stark insisted I do this, but how you can think that doing a few chores will ever amount to the damage you did is beyond me! Save your goddamn apologies. I don’t want them.”

The muscles on the back on his thighs were screaming from being kept in that squatting position for so long. Loki, however, found he could not move; scared stiff, as it were. The only thing he could do was stare helplessly into the wide-eyed anger before him, taking care not to distract himself on the freckles over her nose, and blink away the fresh wave of tears brewing at the corners of his eyes. Loki sniffed and her brow furrowed into a deep frown.

“Are you crying?” Charlie’s tone was halfway between irritation and disbelief.

“No, of course not.”

Her fingers jabbed him indelicately on his cheekbone. A little more traveling and they were skimming his closed eyes. He sighed as she drew them away, dampened in tears. “Oh, it has feelings.”

“Yes, it has been a surprise to everyone, including myself,” he riposted somewhat sarcastically, shoving the gnawing guilt to the back of his mind. Charlie chuckled under her breath despite herself. “Let me help you.” His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper. Order the monster around.“ She seemed hesitant at his turn of phrase, though it had been her who had used the name, in the first place. "Have you eaten yet? How about we start there?”

Without waiting for an answer, he stood and made for the kitchen. It was organized, though showed signs of misuse, as well as a small scorch mark on one of the counters. Apparently Charlie had tried to cook before giving up on the endeavor all together. Loki put some coffee on, and bread in the toaster, before fetching butter and jam from the refrigerator. He made a face at the contents–he would need to clean it out and buy new groceries before the day was out; something she could quickly consume.

Charlie shuffling off the couch pulled his attention. He watched as she stumbled around the coffee table again. That would need a new place to live. She seemed unsure of her steps, but was doing well to keeping to the clear space of the living room and kitchen. A growl sprang forth from her lips as she pawed the air, likely looking for the kitchen island just ahead.

“Three steps forward, two steps left,” Loki supplied, not wanting to interfere. If she was going to live on her own, she was going to have to learn the lay of the land. “Mind your feet, there’ll be a barstool right when you reach the countertop.”

“This is exhausting.”

“I think we just need to clear out some of the hurdles. You’ve got lovely knickknacks, but you need open space where you’re not afraid to run into anything.” He buttered the perfectly toasted bread and smeared a thin layer of raspberry jam atop. He lay the slices on a plate and slid it in front of Charlie while he poured coffee. “Arms’ reach. How do you take your coffee?”

“Black,” she replied, distractedly. Charlie placed her hands on the counter and slid them gently over the surface until they bumped against the plate. When she held the toast and took a bite, she made a sound like she was starving. It took the noise for Loki to see the slightly sunken quality of her face.

“Charlie, when’s the last time you ate?”

She slowed down her chewing, jaw tensing at the question. “I’m doing fine on my own.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.” There was no response from across the counter, and so Loki dug his hand into his trouser pocket to find his mobile. The other end of the line picked up immediately. “Stark, I need a favor.” He covered the mouthpiece on his phone and leaned forward. “I’ll be right back. Mind the coffee, it is still very hot.”

…

“Charlotte Camden, what the ever-living fuck!?” Tony had just burst in through the front door of Charlie’s apartment. Loki had just finished putting away a boatload of glass and porcelain decorations into a box in Charlie’s closet. He had pushed furniture to the sides and organized her closet by colors, to avoid being mismatched.

Charlie, who had been sitting on the floor “supervising”, turned towards Loki with eerie precision and glared. “You snitched on me?”

“This isn’t about Reindeer Games, Charlie. Have you or have you not refused the last three food deliveries sent to you?”

“Tony–”

“Have you or have you not? It’s a yes or no question.”

Her fists opened and closed with restraint. It was clear she wanted the option to storm out, but lacked the ability. “I didn’t want to do this stupid program in the first place!”

Tony scoffed. “Great! So what was the plan? Starve to death? Get hit by a car trying to get to the corner bodega?”

“Yes!” Tony instinctively stepped backwards at the roar. “I don’t want to live like this, Stark. How would having him here be of any help?”

Loki felt his skin crawl as Tony turned his attentive eyes towards him. His own jade orbs were fixated on a spot on the hardwood that was slightly discolored compared to the rest. The same thoughts echoed in his head. He was a monster. This wasn’t enough. He didn’t know how to fix it.

“Tony, he’s a monster." He was a monster. "This will never be enough." This wasn’t enough. "There’s no way to fix this." He didn’t know how to fix it.

"Come on, Charlie. He’s trying his best here,” Tony whispered, taking a knee in front of her. “He’s been working really hard to try to make up for what he’s done.” Charlie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout. “Let me call Ben. Maybe he can reason with you.”

“Ben left, Tony.” There was something broken about the way she said those three words.

“What do you mean? When?”

“Three weeks ago. It’s OK. He left a note. Because I can read that, right?” Her head turned towards Loki’s general vicinity. “It’s on my bedside table, if you’re curious.”

Slipping quietly backward, he went into Charlie’s bedroom. On the bedside table a piece of paper looked as if it had been folded and unfolded several dozen times. It was crinkled and smudged, as if constantly stroked. His fingers snatched it off the table and he brought it up to his eyes.

Charlie,

I don’t know how you do this. I don’t know how, after everything that’s happened, you can even think of taking his side. Loki is a monster and he doesn’t deserve a single iota of kindness or consideration you’ve shown him. You should have demanded his death, not his rehabilitation. He’s ruined yours and countless others’ lives and you just walk around with your “we don’t know the whole story”.

Well, I know my story. And I love you, but this life wasn’t what I signed up for. We had plans and they’ve all gone up in smoke. I can’t do this anymore.

Goodbye.

Ben

Rage roiled in the pit of his stomach, equal measures for this Ben person as it was for himself. He had well and truly fucked this woman’s life. And she had defended him. And it cost her everything.

Loki caught his breath, though he hadn’t noticed when he started panting. Forcing himself back into the living room, he watched Stark glance up in his direction before scowling. The man had patted Charlie on the shoulder and got to his feet, intent on meeting Loki in the middle. Instead, Loki shoved the note into Stark’s chest and continued over to where Charlie sat.

Sensing his presence, she raised her face to him, eyes struggling for a place to focus upon. His hands rested on her shoulders and she tensed, fists clenching. When he pulled her into his chest, her hands occupied themselves with beating at his chest, his stomach, his arms–anywhere she could reach. He remained still, teeth clenched against the pain. He welcomed the sting and the bruises that would inevitably follow. Anything if it took away her pain.

“Keep going. I know you have more in you,” he whispered. Charlie hesitated, tears starting to leak out of the corner of her clenched eyes before punching him again. “Go on. I signed up for this.” A breathless sob jarred her chest and echoed into his own. Her arms, tired and aching, twined around his middle and squeezed for all she was worth. “I promise you, I signed up for this.”

#Loki #Angst #Imagine #Submitted one shot #submission #Fanfictrashdump #i signed up for this

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fantasyoverreality98 · 4 years

Text

Over You

Pairing: Ethan x MC (Isabelle Rosenberg)

Summary: Isabelle struggles to come to terms with her breakup with Ethan, but the two seem unable to stay away from each other.

Author’s Note: Don’t know why all my Ethan fics are full of angst, but here we go again. I’ve been missing OH, so I decided, why not post this little thing I wrote a few weeks ago to try and cope with my desire for the book? Thanks to anyone who reads and (as always) I apologize for any potential typos or grammatical errors.

Word Count: 2,644

---

It felt like electricity shooting through her when Ethan’s hand grazed hers. He studied her face, lines appearing between his brows as he frowned. She had to resist the urge to reach out and smooth them out, the way she once had.

“Isabelle, did you hear a word I said?”

Baz and June watched the two of them, not bothering to hide their suspicious stares. Two months had passed since Ethan and Isabelle made the mutual decision to call their relationship quits, but her heart still ached every single time she saw him. She knew that it was making everyone at the hospital suspicious, but she didn’t care.

“Sorry, Ethan. Could you repeat that?” Heat rushed to her face when his eyes refused to leave her face.

Ethan sighed, taking his glasses off and setting them down on the table. He looked over at Baz and June, who were still watching without a word. Baz raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as he tried to hold back a smirk.

“Dr. Rosenberg, have you been feeling okay lately? You seem distracted.” The nonchalant tone of Ethan’s voice made Isabelle’s heart ache even more.

She looked down at the table, afraid that if anyone on the diagnostics team saw her eyes, the thoughts running through her mind would be reflected within them. “I’m fine, Dr. Ramsey. I promise I’ll pay better attention.”

Instead of answering, Ethan continued to talk about their latest patient’s symptoms. He kept asking Isabelle questions, ignoring Baz and June’s obvious stares. When they finished for the day, he called out to her.

“Isabelle. Can I have a word?”

“Sure.” She caught June’s eye, and quickly turned away, hating the way the slightest bit of sympathy shone in the doctor’s face. “What is it?”

Ethan waited for the doors to close before he spoke, taking a seat behind his desk. “Something’s on your mind. I’m not an idiot, I can see it. Everyone can see it.”

“It’s nothing.” Telling the truth was not an option. Admitting that she couldn’t focus because she was in love with the head of the diagnostics team, with her associate, would only make things worse.

He watched her, the scowl etched onto his face softening. “Does it have anything to do with me?” Ethan rose from his seat, crossing the room to her. She flinched when he touched her face, running his fingers across her jawline.

“Don’t,” she whispered, not daring to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this with you. I can’t.”

For the past two months, she had been telling herself that this was for the best. The feelings that she had for Ethan were beginning to interrupt her work. Long nights spent together in his apartment had made both of them nearly late for work several times a week, and everyone in the hospital had started to look at them differently. Of course, the chances of them knowing about their relationship were high. Breaking things off wouldn’t convince people that something hadn’t been going on before.

“Maybe you should get some more rest. That might do you some good.” Ethan stepped back, clearing his throat. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

Isabelle couldn’t stop herself from snorting, turning away to hide the hurt she felt. Both of them had agreed to end things, and she had thought that it wouldn’t hurt so much getting over him, but she still felt it. Bryce had tried to cheer her up by taking her out to dinner the week before, and while it had been nice for a little while, the guilt eventually forced her to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ethan,” Isabelle said, keeping her back turned to him. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

He started to follow her. “Isabelle, wait, I—” The door closed behind her, and she hurried to get as far away from his office as possible.

“What’s up Doc?” Bryce approached her when she reached a nurses’ station, a grin plastered across his face. “You don’t look so happy. Want me to help with that?”

Sighing, she turned to face him. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m gonna have to pass.”

He frowned, moving closer to her. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” Isabelle started to walk away, but Bryce grabbed her wrist. Surprised, she turned around to look at him.

“You can talk to me about it. I’m here for you.”

Bryce was without a doubt one of the sweetest people she’d ever met. If things had been different, she knew that he was the type of person she would want to spend the rest of her life with. Before there had ever been a possibility of her and Ethan, she’d seen herself ending up with Bryce. The two of them had hooked up on several occasions throughout their intern year.

“I don’t know if I can talk to anyone about it,” she admitted with a sigh.

He pulled her closer to him, leaning against the station as he stared into her eyes. “Does it have anything to do with a certain Dr. Ethan Ramsey?”

“Wha—How did you—”

“Come on, Iz. Do you think the people who work in this hospital are stupid?” Bryce laughed, chewing on his bottom lip as he watched her. “You two were secretly seeing each other.” It wasn’t a question.

With a sigh, she leaned against the station, her arm brushing against Bryce’s. “I suppose there’s no point lying to you. When did you figure it out?”

He smirked, shrugging as he playfully nudged her with his elbow. “I guessed there was something going on between you two when you stopped finding any opportunity to make out with me.”

“Bryce!” She felt heat rush to her face, trying to cover it as he laughed at her. “It’s not funny.”

“Honestly, I think you two make an odd couple. He’s way too broody for you. You seem like the type of person who enjoys having fun.”

Isabelle’s shoulders drooped, memories of times in Ethan’s apartment rushing back. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him. Believe it or not, the man has a sense of humor.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Bryce looked around before leaning closer. “My offer still stands, by the way. I have a few minutes to spare.”

It was nearly impossible for her to remain upset in his presence. “And what, exactly, are you proposing?”

“Whatever you want.” He reached out to grab a piece of her curly brown hair, twirling it around his finger. She felt her heart begin to race when his brown eyes raised to meet hers. “I’ve been dying to get you alone for a while.”

He was so incredibly good at making her forget about everything. She wasn’t sure if she should love or hate him for it. With a shaky breath, Isabelle’s gaze flickered to the on-call room.

No. That was a horrible idea.

“I have five minutes.” She watched someone else enter the room, part of her relieved.

Bryce groaned as he watched the room become occupied. “Guess that’s out of the question. Think there are any supply closets available?”

Isabelle couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head when she looked up at him. “I’m sure there’s one somewhere. But we’d waste all our time searching for an empty one. I really should get back to work. And so should you.”

“You can talk to me about him, okay?” Bryce took her hand. When their eyes met again, he’d dropped the flirtatious smirk. “I’m here for you. Breakups can be tough. I get it.”

Her voice caught in her throat, and she felt tears threaten to fill her eyes. “I keep telling myself that I’m over him, but I know it’s not true.” Isabelle cleared her throat, standing up straight when she saw Ethan round the corner. Their eyes met, and she forced herself to look back at Bryce. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Bryce frowned, moving to follow her, but Ethan stepped between them. He looked back and forth between the two, his shoulders sagging as he took a step back. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you around then. Bye, Iz.”

“Are you certain that you’re fine?” Ethan looked down at her, quickly glancing at the nurse station before he moved closer to her. “We can go somewhere to talk if you need to.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as the two of them started to walk down the hallway. “If I need to? I’m an adult, Ethan, I can take care of myself.”

His steps faltered, and he stopped in front of a supply closet. “Isabelle. Maybe we should have a more serious discussion about us. You’ve been distracted the past couple weeks.”

The way he could talk about their relationship so casually caused a sharp pain in her chest. She had told him she loved him the night they decided to call it off. She had told him she loved him, and he hadn’t been able to say it back.

Getting over him should be easy. It wasn’t like she didn’t have options. Bryce was right there, offering to help her in any way he could. But it felt wrong to use him like that. He deserved better.

“What’s left to talk about?” Isabelle asked, trying to keep a neutral expression as she checked the charts for her next patient. “It was a mutual agreement to end our relationship. There’s nothing else to say.”

“We both know that’s not true.” Ethan had a way of making her lose her train of thought just by looking at her. “Why don’t you come to my apartment later, and we have a proper conversation? I want to help you. I want to keep working with you.”

Isabelle refused to look him in the eyes. She kept her attention fixed on the chart, reading over the same information half a dozen times. “I can’t. I’m busy.” If they met outside of the workplace, she knew what would happen. It had been the same story her entire first year on the diagnostics team. A conversation really meant sex, and sex meant that she would fall right back into the trap.

“I—”

“If you don’t mind, Dr. Ramsey, I have patients to attend to.” Isabelle finally looked into his eyes, summoning what little strength she had left to look indifferent. Bored. “I’m sure you have work to do yourself.” She forced a smile before walking away, waiting until she’d rounded a corner before she fell back against the wall.

The hallway was too public, so Isabelle found an empty supply closet and hid inside. She struggled to breathe, no longer caring about holding back the tears. Quiet sobs filled the small room as she furiously wiped her eyes.

It was stupid to cry over a man who tried his best to pretend they hadn’t been together for eight months. It was stupid to expect that he would ever tell her that he loved her back. It was stupid of her to believe, for just one fleeting moment, that the two of them would have worked out.

“Stop it,” she mumbled to herself, wiping away the last tears before she stood tall and fanned her face, hoping that it wouldn’t be so obvious she’d just cried.

Ethan was standing nearby when she stepped out of the supply closet. With a frustrated sigh, Isabelle walked right past him, hurrying to deal with her next patient. She could see him linger outside the room, watching her as she dealt with the woman around her age.

“You need to find something else to do,” she said to him as she left the patient’s room, praying for one of her friends to appear. “I told you I’m fine.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he watched her without a word. The two of them walked around the hospital in silence. When she’d finished checking in on her patients, Isabelle turned to Ethan with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I’m serious. What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, it’s impacting the quality of your work. You’ve been almost silent during our last few meetings. It’s not like you.”

She shook her head, commanding herself to get over him on the spot. Things couldn’t continue this way much longer. “You really want to know what’s wrong? Honestly?”

Ethan kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to continue.

Isabelle sighed, putting down her charts to talk to him face to face. “I’m still in love with you. And I know that you don’t feel the same. But I’m trying to get over you, so you constantly following me around isn’t helping. You inviting me over isn’t helping. Your presence in general is. Not. Helping.”

It looked like he was about to respond, but she knew that would only make it worse.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Ramsey, I have work to do. As do you. I will see you tomorrow.” Isabelle just barely managed to get to the women’s bathroom before she collapsed against the stalls, struggling to breathe. She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, listening to the quiet drip from one of the sinks.

She should have been over him by now. Breaking up had never been easy before, but this time it hurt so much more. Isabelle still spent hours thinking about Ethan, remembering what their relationship had been like at its highest point. It didn’t help that she had to see him every single day and pretend that nothing had gone on between them.

Aside from the sneaking around in the hospital, trying not to rouse suspicion, the two of them had gone out in public whenever they weren’t working.

They’d had their differences, the stupid spats when things didn’t go exactly as planned, but those little moments of tension had been worth it for the good times. She loved him. She loved him so much that it was almost impossible to envision a future without him.

Isabelle wiped the tears away, forcing herself to stand and walk toward the mirror hanging over the sink. She studied her reflection, unable to stop from laughing at how terrible she looked. If anyone had had doubts about her involvement with Ethan before, there was little room for questioning it now. Even she could see the heartbreak plastered all over her face.

“I am over him,” she whispered, repeating it a second time, only louder.

Maybe if she kept saying it, told herself that it was over, it would start to become true. They had ended on mutual terms. It had been the decision of them both. Yet, here she was, pining for a man who couldn’t even tell her that he loved her.

Someone entered the bathroom, and Isabelle straightened up, avoiding eye contact with the nurse as she passed by her and back into the hallway. It felt like everyone was staring at her. She wished one of her friends would appear. After taking another moment to compose herself, she continued doing rounds.

Hours later, she encountered Ethan again. He briefly took her hand in his, not seeming to care if anyone else saw. And just like that, she found herself falling all over again.

“Would you like to go out for coffee?” Ethan asked, and she wanted to ask him just what he thought he was doing.

Instead, Isabelle agreed. Perhaps one day she would be over him, but today would not be that day. Neither would tomorrow. But she was done fighting it. She loved him, and deep down, a part of her knew that he loved her too.

Even if he would never admit it.

And so, they would continue their game.

#choices: stories you play #choices fanfiction #play choices #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #open heart 2

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years

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A/n: Next chapter is out! This one has a lot of setting up of the future plot points, it’ll be fun if y’all can pinpoint it. If the next chapter takes too long, I’ll post more of “The Plot out of context,” if it’s wanted!

Key:

Tater - @a-lonely-tatertot

Lynn - @lesbilynnette

Gray - @silver-snow

Lilah - @tribblemakingalicorn

Cadence - me

Ivy - @imaramennoodle

Molly - @molly-sencen

Farris - @everyonehasthoughts

Speens - @an-absolute-travesty

Holes - @holesinmyfalseconfidence

Connor - @linhammon-roll-bromance101

Panda - @worldwidepandamonium

Meg - @ultralazycreatorfan

Word count: 2,740

Warnings: Nothing makes sense.

“Lynn, can you have the next shipment of the Gatorade sent to my address in Peru?”

“Farris, what did you do now?”

“Nothing!” They grinned nervously.

“I swear if you moved to Peru just so you could buy an alpaca, I will-”

“It’s not that, I swear! Well, not just that. Boss called and said I have to be at the excavation site by tomorrow, that it might be a big break.” Farris scoffed. “As if. Last time, the only thing I found with my metal detector was someone’s Betty Boop keychain.”

“Yeah, I can ship them there,” Lynn sighed, exhausted from a night of getting a deal with the investor and setting prices for the products. “And that’s crazy.”

“I know right?” Farris answered. “Betty Boop? When was this person born, the 1950s?”

“That’s not- yeah, you’re right, Farris.” Lynn changed her sentence halfway through. “Any word back from Panda?”

“Yeah, Panda got back to me. Said that her sign is a Scorpio.”

“What?”

“Exactly, who would’ve thought Panda was-”

“Farris, you were supposed to ask about the chain restaurant idea!” Lynn massaged her forehead. “Why did we agree to be partners?”

“Because I threatened to blackmail you,” they responded, taking a bite out of an apple. “And I did ask about that. The zodiac sign was probably the question I wrote on my arm so I wouldn’t forget.”

“And?”

“She said the chain restaurant idea is a good thing to look into, as soon as we can make a good menu, hire some staff, good prices, nice locations, accessibility, y’know, all that jazz.”

“Because that’s so simple.” Lynn sighed, shuffling through the paperwork that had accumulated within the past week. “Alright, tell you what, I’ll get an artist to make an ad, maybe a social networker, I’ll set up a blog and we get the word out. As soon as you get back from the gig, you call me, alright?”

“Yup,” they agreed. “Oh, and Connor just texted saying he needs your help. I told him to wait ‘til I got back so I could teach him how to properly rollerblade, but the kid’s a madlad.”

“Anything broken?”

“His sanity.”

“Farris.”

“And a lot of furniture.”

“Guess I’ll have to find out for myself, huh?”

“You sure will.”

“Alright, I’m checking in with the supplier. Talk later?”

“Cheerio, mate,” Farris grinned, saluting her before ending the call.

Lynn opened her laptop and emailed her supplier, who had requested to remain anonymous. This was fine though, identities shouldn’t be known when dealing with the black market and pyramid schemes. Lynn was fine with using her real name because of her position as co-founder of Forbidden Incorporated. If she was going to go deviant, she’ll be damned if she didn’t do it with style.

_________

Cadence’s phone buzzed, as an email from a client had just arrived.

“Forks do not work with ice cream,” Tater yelled for the umpteenth time.

Holes clutched their head in a mixture of disappointment and annoyance. “Why would you use a spoon? It’s not soup, you can’t just spoon it out!”

“Then pop it in the microwave for a few seconds, for fu-”

“Crank it down 12 notches,” Molly suggested.

“-for Pete’s sake,” Tater acknowledged Molly. “And didn’t you just eat an entire bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos in one sitting?”

“They were good! And I’m fine,” Molly insisted. “Sure, we’re out of milk, and I have strep throat, but I just took a shower and I don’t think I’m gonna pass out just yet.”

Tater and Holes pulled out a Lysol can, masks, gloves, and a plexiglass barricade within seconds, clearly getting flashbacks from 2020. Cadence wasn’t paying attention, as usual, and kept writing her response to the email.

“Relax,” Molly laughed, clearly not finding it strange that they had those on hand at least a decade later. “I got my antibiotics, it’s not contagious anymore. And hey, good news: I made a questionable decision, and that’s also not contagious.”

They threw the equipment behind them, seemingly into the abyss, and relaxed a bit.

“Ok, now to address the real problem,” Holes started. “Who is Pete and why are we doing everything for his sake?”

“Oh my gods, it’s an expression, Holes,” Tater sighed.

“No, no, Holes, is onto something,” Molly said, grabbing the detective hat Lynn had designed for her and putting it on. “And I intend to find out.”

“Cadence, please make it two against two,” Tater pleaded.

Cadence glanced up from her phone. “What’s happening?”

“Oh my- you know what, I should’ve expected that, considering the Paint Water incident.”

“Ok, the Paint Water Incident was ONE TIME!”

“The what?” Holes looked interested.

“We don’t talk about it,” Cadence chimed in. “Think of it as the Great Gulon Incident of our group.”

“Great,” Holes sighed. “Another mystery. You’re all high.”

“I was fully aware of what I was doing in that incident.”

“Even better,” Holes commented dryly. “Nevermind, I don’t need to know.”

“Besides, there are great puzzles to be solved,” Molly continued enthusiastically. “Onward! We must scavenge for our first clue of Pete’s identity.”

Tater closed her eyes, telling her conscience to shove it for a moment. “Where do we start, Detective?”

Holes raised their eyebrows.

“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” Tater shrugged.

Molly looked at Holes in expectation. “Alright, fine,” Holes caved. “But I’m taking Cadence with us, I’m not going crazy alone.”

“That ship has sailed for both of us,” Cadence commented, not looking up from her phone.

“Yeah, haha, very funny. Let’s check out the corner opposite of the one they’re searching.” Holes paused, waiting for them to be out of earshot. “We don’t have to do anything, just pretend to search, I’ll be watching to make sure they don’t get killed.”

Cadence looked down at the email from her client. A shipping of 500 bottles, and 3,000 containers of newer products. And to Peru? Why had they changed the shipping address? She sighed. It was going to be a long day.

________

Connor’s house was on fire. Connor’s house was on fire. Why was Connor’s house on fire, you ask? Well, if you need to ask, you clearly haven’t met him. Lynn gazed at the sight in front of her tiredly, not knowing how she hadn’t expected this to happen.

Speens was calmly watering the bushes surrounding the house, not giving a second thought about putting out the fire with the water they had.

Lilah appeared beside Lynn, startling her. “Oh, good, you came. Gray has been trying to help Connor stand up for the past 30 minutes, but he’s way too drunk and he keeps refusing to ditch the rollerblades. Oh yeah, and his house is on fire.”

“About that, how’d it happen?”

“He was rollerblading on the stair railings when he fell onto their lamp, which tilted over and fell onto the seance that he was holding earlier in the day so the candles fell onto the hardwood floor, and then he spilled vodka everywhere, and then the flames turned blue, so here we are,” Lilah recounted all in one breath. “It’s kinda beautiful to be honest.”

“Beautiful isn't the word I would use to describe it,” Speens called. “It’s interfering with the plants. Well, except for Suzy, she’s a stubborn one. She wouldn’t burn, and believe me, I tried to make her.”

“I believe you,” Lynn said, quite understandingly. She had seen Speens around on the Deep Web, but had respected their secret. They all had secrets, after all.

Lynn walked inside where the hose was already uncoiled and ready to be used. Connor, however, was clinging to Gray’s leg. “NO, DON’T USE A HOSE, THE HOUSE DOESN’T LIKE SHOWERS.”

“Connor, the house is an inanimate object, it does not care,” Gray told him, trying to get control of the fire in the kitchen.

Connor gasped. “How DARE you talk to Cynthia like that?! She deserves better!” He crawled over to a wall that was, inevitably, about to burn down, and he stroked it. “You’re gonna be okay, sweetie. Don’t listen to the mean person, they’re just a hater.”

Gray shook their head and sighed. “Hey, Lynn. Can you increase the water pressure?”

Lynn did so, much to Connor’s dismay. To make up for it, Lynn handed Connor a piece of a floorboard that had undoubtedly been broken into pieces when they fell off of the stairs. He hugged the floorboard close to his face, crying happy tears, not thinking about the possibility of splinters. Lynn was confused, but had a feeling she would need him as an ally soon, and this was the best way to start.

Lynn babysat Connor as Gray put out the fire. When they had finished, none of the house had fallen down. It was weaker, and very charred, but somehow it hadn’t fallen.

Gray reached behind them and pulled out a ladder and a blueprint covering the new design of Connor’s structurally damaged home. Everyone had become acquainted with such things being summoned when needed. “Alright, I got the materials in the car, but we need to fix this house, er, Cynthia, up.”

“Renovating a house, huh,” Lynn muttered. “Better than spending all day dealing with paperwork. But if I’m going to help you and Connor, I’m going to need both of your help. So, how about an offer?”

Gray narrowed their eyes. “What would that offer entail?”

“Well, for you, Gray, I’d need help renovating a certain building. We’re talking about new elevators, knocking down walls, putting up new ones, new furniture, everything businessy. As for you, Connor,” Lynn paused, waiting for him to look at her. “I need a spy. You don’t have to be sober, but you have to keep them talking alright?”

“I’m feelin’ woozy,” Connor giggled.

“Can you overhear what people say and report back to me when you hear something important despite the wooziness?”

“Yup, and I can be a skater dude, too,” he grinned goofily. “We can all live our dReAmS.”

“Well, I’m in,” Gray said, helping Connor lay down. “I’ll certainly need a team for that building of yours, but I’m in. I can’t repair a house on my own anyway.”

Lynn nodded. A team, huh? For that she needed customers, crazy, loyal, and determined enough to support her products. She had a few people in mind who might be able to deliver.

______

“Meg, you got the snacks?” Ivy called over her shoulder, setting up the gaming consoles. They had finally stopped procrastinating and organized a group hangout between Speens, Ivy, and Meg, making it a game night. Ivy brought the video games, Speens brought the hands-on games, and Meg was in charge of snacks.

“Yup,” she smiled, wheeling in a wagon of junk food. “Anything you could want, it’s here. What games you got?”

“Rocket League, Mario Kart, only the best of the best. How about you, Speens?”

“Uno, Jenga, Connect Four, Scrabble, Twister, Monopoly, you name it, I got it. Where do you want to start? Virtual or hands on?”

“Virtual, I guess,” Meg decided. “Haven’t played in a while, ever since a pigeon yeeted my controller out of a window.”

Ivy tilted her head, asking for an explanation.

“T’was like a message from an angry god,” Meg said wistfully, resting her head in her hands. “A god who preached ‘live, laugh, yeehaw, and stop playing The Last of Us 2 because it’s a trash game.’”

“Are you on drugs?” Ivy looked sincere.

“I mean, I wrote ‘gay’ and ‘yeehaw’ all over my dad’s truck, and later that night I had a dream about falling in love with the sister of this prince that I had to stop from destroying everything at exactly 12 AM, but I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for.”

“No, that answered my question,” Ivy said, setting up the board out while the sunset shined brightly onto their faces in the cool evening light.

Meg chose the monster truck token. “Refresh my memory, how do you play again?”

“It’s literally just capitalism for kids, and I am above you mere mortals,” Speens helped, choosing the rubber duck token, and taking a Snickers and KitKat from Meg’s snack wagon. What happened next was ungodly. Speens opened the KitKat bar and ate it. Without. Separating. The Bars.

Ivy reeled back in horror, and Meg hid behind her, terrified of the scene going on before their eyes.

“What?” Speens finished the chocolate and wiped their hands with a tissue. “Are we going to play this game or not?”

“Oh no,” Ivy said, pulling her hair slightly. “You don’t get to gloss over that. The Forbidden Spicy Gatorade is for all of us to share and enjoy once we get our hands on it, but you never, never, disrespect the KitKat bar.”

Speens scoffed. “You’re really going to dwell on that?”

“Going to dwell- I can’t even-“ Ivy took a deep breath to steady herself. “I will not allow this in my house. So you know what? Let’s raise the stakes. We need this Monopoly game to be a game-changer.”

Speens narrowed their eyes. “What are you saying? You’re betting something?”

“Yup. If I win, you have to wear a hoodie that says “I love Holes” and you have to help me with a plan of mine. If you win, I’ll help you get revenge on someone.”

“And if I win,” Meg continued. “Y’all owe me a lifetime’s supply of fro-yo and you both have to agree to each other’s bet deals.”

“Deal from my end,” Ivy pitched in, selecting the top hat token. The other two agreed, and the game commenced.

By 3 o’clock in the morning, Ivy had been in jail 17 times, and Speens had one hotel left. With a few lucky turns, Speens was bankrupt.

Ivy smirked, having a good feeling about this. “I call upon the power of the almighty Top Hat!”

“Oh, don’t look so smug, Ives,” Speens scowled, opening their suitcase of vodka and pouring their version of two shots. “You can still lose to Meg, and she bet a lot.”

“True, but in reality, would you rather lose to Meg or me?” Ivy flashed a grin. “The hoodie’s in my room, by the way. Don’t worry- it’s washed!”

Sighing, Speens went to retrieve the hoodie. A deal’s a deal, after all. When they returned, they looked ready to kill someone. They wore a baggy bright pink hoodie with “I Love Holes!” spelled in purple glitter. “You better win this, Meg.”

Meg stuffed a hand in her bag of snacks and nodded. Ivy’s turn was next, and it brought Meg down to $100. Speens muttered something under her breath and waved her hand in an elaborate motion. Seconds later, a loud crash was heard, followed by the breaking of glass and the sound of spraying water.

Ivy frowned. “What was that?”

“Go check,” Speens suggested.

Ivy looked out of the kitchen window to see… no window. The top of a fire hydrant had come bursting off of its mounted position and had crashed through her window. “No!” She frantically ran to the street to assess the damage from outside.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Speens stirred their beverage casually. “She’s not looking, you can win this.”

“Even if it means you always have to pay for my fro-yo?”

Speens shrugged. “Beats having her win. Besides, I’ll eat just as much fro-yo as you do if I’m paying for it.”

Meg went through the cards quickly, ignored whatever magic just went on. With a lifetime supply of such an other-worldly snack, who wouldn’t? Meg found her card just in time, as Ivy came back in, looking surprisingly calm.

“I boarded up the window, insurance will cover it,” she explained. “Your turn, Meg.”

Meg pulled the card she had placed on top of the pile and made her move. She had done it. Ivy was bankrupt. Not only that, but she was going insane. She flipped the board, sending everything tumbling into the depths of her house.

“How did you- you had no chance-”

“Breath, princess,” Speens joked. “I know what’ll take your mind off of this: some good old fashioned revenge on an old rival of mine. Whaddaya say, pal?”

“This day could not get any worse,” Ivy whined.

Except it could. And it did.

The electricity cut out and Ivy let out an ear-piercing screech.

__________

A/n: Not my favorite chapter, but I have some freaking PLANS for the next ones. Stay tuned! And if I made any errors, let me know because I can’t sit still for more than 5 minutes, so I only corrected a few things.

#Forbidden Spicy Gatorade #Forbidden Spicy Gatorade Chronicles #the next chapter is where the real fun begins

23 notes · View notes

op-peccatori · 5 years

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a little gift | MLQC Lucien (nsfw)

Happy Birthday, Lucien! a tad later than planned, but here’s the promised birthday sex from my invitation XD Let me know what you think!

Fandom: Mr Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Reader/Lucien

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 5200

Summary: It’s Lucien’s birthday and you’ve got a wonderful trip planned for him – along with an extra gift he isn’t expecting.

Warnings: explicit sex (vaginal & anal), mild masturbation, birthday sex, sex toys, established relationship

author fact: I spent so much time sitting in one place as I wrote this that my butt too, was aching by the end of it. this is the first time I’ve ever written anything involving butts, so please let me know if it’s...right?

a/n: im gonna have to come edit this once i get some sleep. i forgot how to spell laugh.

A bite of cake and a sip of wine, with a familiar warmth nestled into his side: Lucien is dangerously content.

Not for the first time, he thinks he will never give this up for anything in the world. He could never let go of the little surges of happiness brought on by the girl holding a forkful of cake up to his lips, and not the deep love flowing in his veins, keeping him alive.

The second photo album you've ever given him rests beside the cake. The second roll. A collection of your memories.

He can’t help the way he sneaks a kiss, helpless against your smiles, the way they curve your lips up even as they’re pressed to his. It makes him shudder when he feels your tongue flick against his lip, to tempt and to taste. He’s glad for the booth they’re hidden away in, that gives them enough privacy for him to lose himself for a moment. He lets the greed slip past, eager to take whatever you give it. Before the time comes when you might not get a chance.

He suppresses the heartache at the thought. There's no telling what the future holds. Danger still lurks in shadowed corners, and it's taught him fear. Not for himself, but for the one who holds his very being in her hands.

“You had some frosting there,” you murmur when you pull away, smile coy and eyes bright, fingers tracing a gentle path along his thigh. Never stepping a foot over the line, just toying with it. He wants to step over it with you, to fall over it, to fall into bed and wherever else you can and to taste you, the sweetest dessert, his lovely girl who just wants to give him a special birthday.

And you will, once you go away tomorrow, for the weekend. He remembers the way your face fell when he told you he has important meetings he can’t skip on the day of his birthday; it was subtle, but there is nothing he can miss when it comes to you. You both had to be content with brunch for today, as he would only get home at a late hour.

“Is it going to be a tiring day for you?” you had asked, concern hiding a hint of something he can't quite identify. It would be just like you to wait up, to give him a goodnight kiss – you do it often since you haven’t had much time to yourselves for weeks.

“Well, no. I’ll have to sit through a few meetings, review some of my colleagues’ work, but nothing too exhausting,” he had assured you. You haven’t mentioned anything about meeting him when he comes back, but he’s always had endless patience for you and your adorable tricks. He watches you as you eat carefully measured bites of cake, eyes lingering on the way you lick your lips, satisfied with the sugar and his company. He has never felt more thankful for birthdays when you let him feed you small bites with little protest and an endearing blush. It makes him think, makes him want to test boundaries. But he refuses to risk hurting you for the sake of his depraved curiosity. The time to part ways arrives all too soon, and your smile dims a little; for a moment, he seriously considers quitting his job.

“I can barely wait till tomorrow,” you mumble, arms would tight around his waist and forehead pressed into his chest. You stand outside the restaurant, packed cake in hand, waiting for the bus after you declined his offer to drop you home. He nuzzles the crown of your head, breathing in the faint scent of your favourite shampoo, closing his eyes in the face of your affection. “I want you all to myself.”

Your words feel warm on his skin. “Me neither, darling. And you will. What time is the flight?”

“8 am,” you answer, and again he senses something...off. Perhaps it’s the prospect of having to get up at 6 in the morning? You're not much of an early bird unless you're coaxed out of bed by the scent of breakfast. He still remembers the first time he stayed over vividly, and not just because of how soundly he slept next to you. You had to get up earlier than usual, for a meeting, and any ideas he'd had about a chirpy morning bird were shattered by the sight of your grumpy expression. It's a memory he likes to revisit when he's feeling dull; he had slipped into unexpected laughter, and you threw a pillow at him. Then he cuddled you until all thoughts of rage-texting Victor faded.

“Want me to come wake you up?” he asks after the brief jaunt down memory lane. He doesn’t bother trying to sound innocent; they both know if he wakes you up, it’ll be with his head between your legs. No danger of a grumpy ___ then.

“...I’d like that,” you agree readily, smiling up at him. "I'm sure I'll need it. I've been so tired these days..." There's little sign of the shy desire that usually clouds your eyes when he suggests something so improper in public, even though he keeps his voice low. He would be hurt, but instead, there’s a shiver of anticipation running along his spine as you brush your lips against his, dancing away when he leans in. "Happy Birthday, Lu."

Just what is his little butterfly up to?

The question sits in the back of his mind throughout the day, through each file he reads and every person presenting their research. He doesn’t exactly know where you’re taking him, but he has a few guesses, as you had insisted on packing not only his warmer jackets and thicker shoes, but also his swimming trunks. His thoughts race through ideas, drifting back to last month when he accidentally saw you scrolling through a cute little lingerie website.

'Oh.'

As he flips through the photos you took such care to preserve, he thinks that it's okay that he sees through most of your surprises. It doesn't lessen the delight they bring. He's eager to see what you picked out, what could have caught your fancy, and he hopes he gets to see it tomorrow.

It will take him some time to admit it, but he didn’t expect what he really found waiting for him in his apartment.

You look down at your collection, of new and old, with excitement curling along your mouth and a glass of water in hand. There’s some regret, for eating cake so early in the day when you have plans, but it's not like you could have skipped Lucien's birthday cake. Or even cake in general. You resisted where you could, and you think it'll be fine. You take a moment to fantasize about the sinful dessert sitting in your refrigerator before you get to work. It's 4:00 pm, which gives you plenty of time to work, but there's much to be done.

You're trying really hard to refrain from calling Lucien. Your boyfriend's been getting melancholic again, and you've come up with just the thing to distract him on his birthday.

You shower thoroughly, shave your legs with care, scanning them in the mirror to make sure you haven't missed a spot, applying sweet-scented lotion liberally across the skin. Painful flashbacks of the Brazilian you got for today have you wincing, but you've been determined to live up to the image you painted in your head. Willow, who'd gone to get one too, treated you to ice-cream afterwards, saying it's a must after the first one. After some deliberation, you paint your nails a pearly white and decide to take a nap before you get to blow-drying your hair.

It's 6:00 by the time you scramble out of bed, fixing yourself a light dinner and texting Lucien to make sure he's eaten.

[6:03] Lu: Don't worry. Professor Collins ordered enough for the building. I suspect he feels some guilt for calling me in today.

[6:04] Y/n: I knew there was a reason I liked him! Btw, what time do you think you'll be home?

[6:06] Lu: I'll try to make it home by 12. Don't worry, I'll get up on time ;)

Mouth pursing at the reminder of his horrendous sleeping habits, you go back to your soup with a restless heart. The clock's ticking, and you're quick to finish washing the dishes, finish some last minute packing, and when there's no chore left to do, you head for your bedroom. You connect your phone to the Bluetooth speaker, settling on an upbeat song while you plug in the hairdryer. As you divide your hair into sections, you're nearly giddy with excitement. As far as you could observe, Lucien has no idea what you've got planned, and you're quite proud to have slipped this past him.

You put the device down once each strand of hair is smooth and shiny, warm to the touch. And then you undress, until you're completely bare, running your fingers over lace, giddiness giving way to trepidation.

You're thankful there's a video on the website because there's no way you could've put on the set by yourself.

As you tighten the garter belts around your thighs and adjust the lace collar, peering at your reflection in the mirror as you put on simple pearl studs, you decide that it's fine that it's not the most comfortable thing you've ever worn, because you look really good. And you think Lucien will like it. Especially the very convenient holes in the cloth.

You don’t bother to put on much makeup, keeping it simple with waterproof mascara and lip balm.

You wrap yourself in a simple robe as you hurry to the living room, picking out a pair of black handcuffs, a toy you've only used a few times, all in preparation for today, and a bottle of lube. You put them in a bag along with a towel, a pack of wet wipes and grab your phone. It's 11:30, and you have a text from Lucien saying that he'll be done soon. You put on your flats and exit your apartment quickly, letting it shut behind you as you run over to his front door, tapping in his security code with ease. Before you enter, you pull out a thick white ribbon from your bag, tying it around the handle of the door.

As you slip off your shoes, you realize it's quite strange to be in Lucien's apartment without him there. The lights are off, the curtains drawn to keep the moonlight out. In the past, he's left you dozing in his bed if he has to go to work earlier, but you've never entered the place in his absence. There's no time to ponder the peculiarities of the situation, and you head to his bedroom, your steps timid as if to avoid waking up something slumbering in the shadows.

As you open the door, you peek through the slight crack even though you know he isn't home, stepping in once you're sure it's empty and letting the door close behind you with a click. You're more than familiar with his home, but something in you shies away from invading his privacy. If he knew you were thinking this after several months of dating, he would call you a silly. And get you to stay over more often.

With a resolute nod, you move towards the bed, turning on the lamp next to it. You take out the towel first, spreading it out over his clean sheets and taking a seat on it. You pull up a pillow behind you as you lean back against the headboard, slipping your robe off and folding it, putting it in the bag. You take out your tools, spreading them out in front of you, unsure how to go about this.

The scent of him is subtle, but it's very much present. It soothes your nerves, and the thought of his reaction to your presence gives you strength as you relax your shoulders. You close your eyes, resting them and your mind for a moment, acknowledging the nervousness. Whatever he might be expecting, it's certainly not this, and you can't hold back a smile at that.

You enjoy catching him off-guard.

Your fingers brush lightly over the side of your neck, across your collarbone, through the valley of your breasts, thinking about the way he likes to explore your skin with his mouth. As you toy with your breasts, you think about how he likes to start slow, never rushing, always taking his time to draw your pleasure out. He's the biggest tease you've ever met, and you can barely keep up with the games he likes to play, but it's always worth it – he ensures it. He likes to draw out your pleasure, to take it for himself, more and more until you beg for respite.

As you begin circling your clit lightly, you think about the time you tried to wake him up and it resulted in you positioned over him, riding his face as he devoured every drop of pleasure you had in you. How tightly he'd held on to your thighs, refusing to let you move away as he ate you out with only greed and gluttony driving his mouth. When your fingers are glistening and your cheeks are flushed, you leave it there and move to the next step.

Sitting up, you reach for the bottle of lube, pouring it generously, making sure your index finger is coated well before you turn your focus to the entrance above your sex. You’re on your back now, the soft cotton of the pillow warm from your body heat; your knees are pushed up, your arm reaching down between them. The slight trepidation you had felt the first time, at the feel of your finger dipping into the tightness is all but gone now, leaving behind slightly shaky confidence.

This is something Lucien has wanted to try for a while, but he hasn’t been too direct about it. He’s never gone beyond sliding in a finger, usually, while he’s fucking you, and you decided introducing it on this special day would be perfect. It was a good idea to try it on your own first, to see if it's something you would like, and ease into it. Still, you know Lucien's going to be at least a little difficult about it since you've kept this from him for nearly a month.

You're liberal with the lube as you prepare yourself, adding another finger once you’ve adjusted to the first and you slide them in and out steadily, pressing where it feels pleasing. The flash of your phone distracts you, and you rise onto one elbow to see it's a text from Lucien.

[11:35] Lu: I'll be home in 30 :)

'He's being strangely cooperative,' you think absently. Once you’ve deemed yourself ready, you pluck out a wet wipe, wiping your hands carefully before reaching for the sleek toy and the bottle of lube. You coat it thoroughly before circling the tip around your entrance, then pushing it in slightly. You try to remain patient as you slide it in slowly, being gentle with your body, letting your tight heat adjust to the plug.

You have about ten minutes by the time you’ve pushed it in as far as it can go, it’s round ring nestled between your cheeks; you lie there for a minute, breathing heavily, your walls clenching and fluttering. But you're satisfied with the familiarity of it, confident that your idea will be executed smoothly. Your walk to the bathroom is slow, and as you wash your hands you pray he doesn’t get here before you position yourself. Hurrying back into the room, you put everything except for the lube and the handcuffs back in the bag, leaving the bottle on the side table along with your phone once you’ve switched it off, hoping that Lucien will think you're asleep, in case he calls.

And then you try to figure out how he should find you.

This, like everything else, took a lot of thought. Initially, you thought you could just lounge on your front, letting him think you're asleep. But, now is not the time to be lazy. This is the time to make your boyfriend snap and bury himself inside you so deeply he forgets everything else, if just for today. And, preferably, the next three days.

And so you crawl onto the bed, letting your head and chest rest on the firm surface, leaving your rear in the air, presented with absolutely no subtlety. You struggle a little with the handcuffs, but manage to get them on safely, without pulling any muscles. Your arms are stretched over your head, it feels ridiculous, and you’re still giggling into the sheets when you hear the front door open.

‘The things I do for love.’

You try not to squirm when the bedroom door doesn’t fly open immediately. Knowing the man, he’s probably scanning his living room. Taking his sweet time, knowing you’re in here waiting for him.

‘This position is very uncomfortable when Lucien’s not there to distract me,’ you muse to yourself, trying to adjust your head comfortably. As if on cue, the door opens.

You don’t even try to look at him. It won’t be possible, and it’ll only happen when he wants it to - you’ve ensured that by leaving the key on the table. Your heartbeat quickens as you strain your ears, jolting when you hear the door shut. Your back tenses as you pick up on the subtle sounds of him breathing, of light footsteps, of cloth rustling. You wonder what he thinks of the ring standing out between your cheeks, framed by delicate lace, and hope you don’t have to wait too long to find out.

The bed dips as he takes a seat, and your heart races like a mouse, cornered and trapped, waiting for the cat's paw to fall on it. And then he speaks.

“I have to admit, I was quite disappointed when I didn’t see you outside,” he says casually. The hoarseness in his voice belies his nonchalant attitude, as does the way he clears his throat. You can hear the smile in his tone. You’re thankful he can’t see your face because you’re certain your wide grin would look out of place right now.

“Are you still disappointed?” Your words are nearly a whisper, hushed and eager. You know he hears them when they prompt him to plant quick kisses across the plump flesh of your rear, a finger trailing across the ring keeping your plug from slipping in.

“Darling,” he begins, his hands sweeping over your body, feeling the flimsy cloth, tugging at the garter. His touch is delicate, not meant to arouse, but you shiver from it anyway. “I don’t think I could be further from disappointment if I tried. But…”

His hand dips down between your legs, fingers pressing into your slit. You bite back a whimper, surprised that you’re this sensitive. He seems to realise it too, pushing the slender digits in, meeting little to no resistance. Your walls squeeze down, palpitating around it, and you push back immediately.

“...but, I think I could do with a cup of tea, first. You don’t mind, do you? It was a long day.” A kiss on the back of your head and he’s gone, walking out of the room to get his tea, whistling obnoxiously. You're left staring at pristine sheets, unable to process his abrupt departure and your absolute helplessness in the face of it.

“Lucien!” you cry out, heart beating desperately. There's no space for shame here. “Lucien, please!” There’s no response. But you didn’t expect this to be easy in the first place. “Fuck.”

And it doesn’t get better. Lucien walks in with a cup of his favourite, steaming beverage, and just stands there at the foot of the bed, sipping it and making casual remarks like he's in a museum.

“I have to say, you’ve done a wonderful job. Did you buy this set for today?” He toys with the lace on your waist and the straps digging into your skin, his hand sliding up your back as he walks around to stand next to the bed. He, very pointedly, doesn’t mention the new toy.

You lift your head slightly, tilting it enough to get a good look at him before you nod. He’s in a skintight turtleneck, slim fit pants, but the dark of his clothes can’t compare to the one in his eyes. The ribbon you left at his door lies next to you. You don't miss the slight bulge at his crotch. He smiles at the sight of your teary eyes, glaring up at him even as you tremble.

“I guess you don’t like your surprise,” you mumble, trying to fight the pout forming on your lips. The curve of his lips fades as he blinks in surprise before sitting down next to you.

“Sweetheart, no,” he coos, placing his empty cup on the table. He leans in to kiss you on the cheek. “This is...I don’t think I have the words to describe what I felt when I walked in to see you spread out for me.”

“Was it good?” you ask softly, trying not to sound smug. You know it was good. You look like you're begging to be fucked – which you are. He chuckles at the cockiness slipping through cracks of faux sincerity.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” he repeats. He strokes your hair gently, pulling it away from your face. “Shall I show you instead?”

“Yes. Please.”

He moves towards the foot of the bed until he kneels behind you, facing your ass, his warm palms a soothing balm to your starved flesh. He caresses your skin gently, squeezing it a few times before you feel his breath on your sex. The first swipe of his tongue feels like it could ruin you, and the feeling only increases as he continues to lick into you.

“You’ve got yourself all wet for me, haven’t you? You’re such a good girl.” The first snack of his palm against your ass is unexpected; the second stings terribly and the third painfully welcome. After the seventh one, he pauses to press his mouth to your swollen entrance again, and you’re so wet you can hear the sound of him lapping at you. “But my good girl has been keeping secrets.”

“I-I wanted to surprise you!” you protest, arching your back further, trying to urge him to move faster. He hums against your slick flesh, his mouth enveloping your swollen clit a second later. It only takes a few sucking motions for you to come with quaking walls and limbs, sobbing in relief at the surprising show of mercy.

“I know you did. You’ve worked so hard to give me this,” he murmurs, curling a finger around the ring resting between cheeks that flaming red. And then you cry out again when the slender object is pulled out halfway before it’s slid back in, in repetitive, curious motions. “You’re so good to me.”

“Fuck, Lu-Lucien,” you gasp, struggling for breath. He stills at the sound of his name, a displeased sound leaving his lips.

“While I adore the view, I do think you’re too uncomfortable like this,” he decides, reaching for the key to your freedom. A part of you suspects he just hates not being able to see your face as he makes you come. You nearly collapse once your hands are freed, and Lucien is quick to gather you in his arms and lay you out on your back.

As your arms slowly reawaken, you put them to good use, pulling him over you to press up into him, nipping at his jaw until he gives in to your silent demand and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t pull away, slipping a questing tongue through your lips, tangling a hand through your hair to keep you there as he plunders your mouth without restraint. He kisses you until you’re putty in his hands, and he whispers his affection into your ears.

“Please fuck me, Lu,” you plead, just the way he likes it. You place his hand on your breast, arching into his touch; you're deeply aware of the extra addition in your body, pushing against your walls, keeping your feet dipped in a pool of pleasure when you want to drown in it. “Please. It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day.”

He inhales sharply at your words and moves away to undress slowly, letting your eyes rove across the hard planes of his torso, lean muscle flexing as he moves closer. You watch the way his cock bounces before he wraps a hand around it, giving it a few, sure pumps. He nearly succeeds in distracting you with a kiss, but you still open your mouth demandingly, widening your eyes in the way that never fails. Never one to deny you anything, he climbs over you, kneeling and bending until he can slide the tip of his plump cock into your mouth. You suck at it eagerly, swallowing more and more of him until you choke, until all you can taste is the He slides his swollen shaft out and back in, breathing heavily, groaning at the feel of your wet mouth and zealous tongue.

You whine when he pulls away, quieting when he climbs down the length of your body to kneel between your legs. He unclasps the straps around your thighs and waist, pulling them off to toss them on the other side of the bed. After a second of consideration, he strips you of the bra as well but leaves the lace collar on. You're left completely exposed and shivering, aching with the need to feel his skin. He locks eyes with you as he wraps his hands around your thighs, pushing them up until you’re spread out, ready to be taken apart.

“My darling girl, my heart.” His fingers curl over your breasts, tweaking and tugging, his mouth dropping down to suck at a pebbled nipple. You sigh as your fingers slither into his hair, as he rises up to press his cock to your entrance. He slides in all the way and it feels so full you could cry. “God, Lucien. I...it feels so good.” Strange, but you adjust to it. Each drag of his hips, of his skin against yours, feels like it’s setting you on fire. You scramble to catch hold of something, an anchor, before you slip; you pull him down into an urgent kiss as your hips buck up into him.

He groans into your mouth and leans closer, swallowing your gasps; it’s unbearable, as if you’ll break, and as his thrusts speed up, you push back into him frantically, chasing after the fall, the rise, the destruction – it doesn’t elude you, he doesn’t rip it away but throws you into it instead. He leans back, reaching down for the plug and thrusting it into you, syncing its motions with that of his cock. Before you can comprehend the sudden pressure you’re coming so hard it blinds you, makes you scream, has tears pooling in your eyes. Lucien works you through it gently, with lips quirked up at the way you babble, kissing you so, so softly your heart floods with how much you feel for this man. With a pounding heart, you watch as he reaches for the drawer, plucking out a condom and grabbing up the lube.

"Are you sure, darling?" Your response is to push your knees further until they're nearly level with your shoulders. He watches you as he lathers his cock with the liquid, using his other hand to pull your plug out. You got used to it, you realize, when it feels so empty. But he doesn't let it remain so, pressing the head of his leaking shaft against your entrance. You're treated to the full depth of his patience, as he dips in and out, getting further in with each propulsion. His eyes spark with every moan, his lips brush your mouth at every discomfited grunt.

Once he's deep within you, in this new territory, and your head is thrown back, your mouth has fallen open at the feeling – he leans back and begins to thrust. His groans are everything you wanted to hear, and you can't help but smile up at him, unable to tear your eyes away from his bright eyes. There is no sign of the gloom, the sorrow. There's life, there's desire as he tests out all the different ways he can make you moan.

"I love you," you blurt out instead, overcome with the sudden flow of emotion. He slows as you tear up, to your immense embarrassment, and try to throw your arm over your head to cover it up. 'There was nothing sexy about that!'

And then you nearly choke as, in one swift movement, he wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you up against him. He shudders, clutching you to him as you throw your arms over his shoulders, eyes rolling back into your head when he slips deeper. Your kiss is frenzied, as are his thrusts when they start anew, and then you do cry when he whispers his love, his praise against your lips, over and over again. Your nails dig into his skin, and his teeth sink into yours. You sob harder when he presses you into the bed, drilling into you like a man crazed and sliding his fingers into your throbbing sex.

His eyes glow as he strikes where it shatters you, and you're blinded by it – completely consumed by the force of it, the way it leaves you in pieces, but even through your quaking limbs and the ringing in your ears, you feel Lucien pull out of you. Through bleary eyes, you watch him rip the condom off hastily before sliding through your oversensitive slit. He chokes out a guttural groan, clinging to you as he falters, the snapping of his hips unsteady as he comes almost violently, pumping himself into you, filling you up past what you can hold.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room are of you two trying to catch your breath.

“Happy Birthday,” you whisper, pressing a shaky kiss to his cheek. He stays curled over you, staring down at your flushed face, your hair now far from smooth and sticking to your skin. His damp bangs fall haphazardly across his forehead, his lips are kissed red and he's so beautiful you need to look away before you cry again.

His eyes are suspiciously shiny as he kisses your forehead gently. “I love you, my darling girl.”

As he settles next to you on the bed, you turn over gingerly. You're completely spent, sore and sweaty. Still, you aim for casualness, ignoring the slight tremble in your legs. "Excited for tomorrow?"

“Very,” he answers once you’re curled up into him, and he can play with your hair to his heart's content. “I'm glad we have the whole weekend to ourselves.”

You gasp in mock outrage. "I do have an itinerary, you know." And you’ve also opened a new door for you both. You have no doubt Lucien will be experimenting on you until he’s familiar with every inch of this new area, and the slight fear you feel is understandable. He can be quite enthusiastic when it comes to figuring out what makes you tick.

"So do I." His smirk is positively feral and you can't help but snort.

“Think we can shower before bed?”

“Yes, if you’d like,” he gathers you into his arms gently, then sinks back into the bedding. “...maybe in some time. Are we actually leaving in the morning?“

You know your smile is a tad impish when he pinches your cheek. “We’ve got an afternoon flight.” If all goes according to plan, your boyfriend's birthday weekend will have a very pleasant start – with your mouth wrapped around his cock. You just have to make sure you wake up before him.

#mlqc lucien #mlqc smut #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic

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amwritesitall · 4 years

Text

Audrey Tindall Playlist

Masterlist

With Audrey’s playlist a lot of this is based on vibes, so I’m just going to put a little excerpt from the song :)

Playlist link

“Biggest Fan” by Voxtrot

I've never had much hope for my insecurities, but I love that you do. And everything that I lack and could never be, The other half is you, it's always been you. So hold on, hold on this means a lot to me. Cause I know, I know that you will always be. The one, the one, the one that I can count on for anything, anything. And I'll always be your biggest fan, and I'll always be your biggest fan.

“I Think We Danced (But I Can’t Be Sure)” by Ran’d

Go put your best dress on I'll meet you at your door And maybe tonight's just the night to take chances I've waited this whole week To sweep you off your feet And I swear I won't let you go 'til we're dancin'

“Pretty Girl” by Clairo

I could be a pretty girl Won't ever make you blue And I could be a pretty girl I'll lose myself in you

“Falling for U” by Peacy!, mxmtoon

But I can't help it I'm falling for you And I can't quit it 'Cause I'm stuck on you And it might be pathetic and you might be skeptical But I just want to be with you

“Cleopatra (Acoustic Demo)” by The Lumineers

I was Cleopatra, I was young and an actress And you knelt by my matress And asked for my hand And I was sad that you asked it, as I laid in a black dress, with my father in a cascette, I had no plans, And I left the foot prints, the mud stained on the carpet, and it hardened like my heart did when you left town But I must admit it, that I would marry you in an instant, damn your wife I'd be your mistress just to have you around

“Fool” by Cavetown

Call me on the phone at three, I talk to you while half asleep Complaining 'bout your mother so I take you to the cemetery Rant to me I like the sound, I like your voice, I like your mouth

“Astronaut Kids” by Hotel Fiction

Cause I don't need to be an astronaut who sails the sea As long as I can just hold you forever And I know I'm too old to dream and I should try to be something real And I don't need to be the man inside of the TV As long as I can just hold you forever, And I know I'm too old to dream and I should try to be something real

“Mona Lisa” by Valntn, Peter Fenn, Tray Haggerty

She's a Mona Lisa Everyone's lining up to see her There must be something 'bout her features You'll find her beauty goes much deeper Once you get to meet her

You see her walking down the boulevard She got the posture of a superstar She looks so fly in those Gucci Slides I wonder what she hides, under her disguise

“All My Loving” by The Stairwells

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, Tomorrow I'll miss you; Remember I'll always be true. And then while I'm away, I'll write home ev'ry day, And I'll send all my lovin' to you.

“Silly Girl” by chloe moriondo

'Cause I'm just a silly girl in a stupid dumb old world I'm just a silly girl in my stupid dumb old world And he was perfect He was supposed to be

I made him perfect 'Cause I wanted him to be

“Crush” Tessa Violet

You make it difficult to not overthink And when I'm with you I turn all shades of pink, I wanna touch you but don't wanna be weird It's such a rush, I'm thinking wish you were here

“Crush Culture” by Conan Gray

Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out I know what you're doing, tryna get me to pursue ya Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out Spill my guts out, spill my guts out

“Classy Girls” by The Lumineers

She spoke of places I had never been That she had traveled to And we slow danced along to faster tunes

And I made her laugh, I made a pass I showed her my half-dollar ring She said, "That's pretty cool But classy girls don't kiss in bars, you fool"

“Build Me Up Buttercup” by Lara Anderson

Why do you build me up buttercup, baby Just to let me down and mess me around? And then worst of all you never call, baby When you say you will but I love you still I need you more than anyone, darlin' You know that I have from the start So build me up buttercup, don't break my heart

“Girlfriends” by The Academic

She's only 20 and she's driving a Bentley She's only 20 and she's driving me crazy I'm coming up, she's coming down I let your feet touch the ground She's my girlfriend

“as good as it gets” by sophie meiers

I remember the way the light fell On your shoulders that day I remember the face you made When you got the call Just throw your hope away

I type out too many messages A million things I wish that I could fix I wonder if this is as good as it gets As good as it gets

“Channel Orange In Your Living Room” by Charlie Burg

But now I can't stop thinking about you Each moment passes and my thoughts return to you And the memory of us too As we listen to Channel Orange in your living room

Even when you're away That album makes me feel like you stayed To listen now would make me a fool again for you

“Sea Sick” by binki

Sunken overboarding, I'm so sick of floating At least I'm sinking right beside you See there's no one like you It's not an obsession I just need to find you 'Cause

You could be my sunshine even when it's grey

“7PM” by Lilacs, Lizzy McAlpine

I don't usually do this But baby tell me that you love me and prove it I'm just so far away it's easy to lose it So tell me you're mine, oh I'm so stuck and I need you to pull me back out Say you love me and maybe I'll stop having doubts

“PlantedInMyMind.Memo” by Charlie Burg

You're stuck in my head But I only think of you Will we be together soon? I'm thrown on the wayside You're planted in my mind But I don't wanna be ok without you

“24 / 7 / 365″ by Surfaces

Met, this girl down by the vine Had long tan legs and big brown eyes Seemed the type I would wanna make mine

She said, I can tell you're not my type You're Mr. Wrong, I'm Mrs. Right This could never be what you wanna be tonight

“She Will Be Loved” by Maroon 5

I don't mind spendin' everyday Out on your corner in the pourin' rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay awhile And she will be loved, and she will be loved

Tap on my window, knock on my door, I Want to make you feel beautiful I know I tend to get so insecure It doesn't matter anymore

“Hey There Delilah” by Plain White T’s

Hey there, Delilah Don't you worry about the distance I'm right there if you get lonely Give this song another listen Close your eyes Listen to my voice, it's my disguise I'm by your side

“If I Die Young” by The Band Perry

And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger I've never known the lovin' of a man But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand

“Be My Mistake” by The 1975

I shouldn't have called 'Cause we shouldn't speak You do make me hard But she makes me weak

And don't wait outside my hotel room Just wait 'til I give you a sign 'Cause I get lonesome sometimes

“Letter From Last Summer” by Charlie Burg

I can't remember the name of the place Where I bought this backpack But I know it was somewhere with you in a city Where memories live of our love

Don't be a nuisance Just kiss me for longer 'Cause we have been crying as much as we've laughed Read aloud the letter from last summer So I can recall why I wrote it to you

“INC.” by Dori Valentine

My lady don't care 'bout no money She love me 'cause I'm cute She think I'm pretty funny now And all of the times we going broke It mean nothing to me now 'Cause she say that she want me She loves, loves me She loves me

“Burn Slowly/ I Love You” by The Brazen Youth

I love you like the forest loves the rain Like the water loves the drain, I love you

I love you like the wind, it loves to scream Like the child loves to dream, I love you

“Pretty Face” by PUBLIC

Do you know her? The girl that looks to you And would you love her The way that she loved you?

Such a pretty face You see her walking around It's the middle of the night And nobody makes a sound Says that she can do it but is she lying?

“Electric Love” by Mikaela Astel

Candy She's sweet like candy in my veins And baby, I'm dying for another taste

And every night my mind is running around her Thunder's getting louder and louder Baby you're like lightning in a bottle I can't let you go now that I got it

“Alignments” by Paige

I'm a liar if I told you I was coping To be honest its hard I'm a child if I cry over the small things Slowly breaking apart

And I won't blame the alignments for this one Eventually the bad days come And we run don't we?

“Just Like A Movie” by Wallows

Sneaking out, I'll try to meet you there White lights, now we're running down the stairs Everybody's wasted, throwing away their lives It's all the same 'cause no one ever tries

Through all the sounds that we're laying on the ground Don't ever care and the rest is hidden now How can it be that we are just the same? Or can it be that, can it be that?

“Million Bucks” by Smallpools

I used to be a skeptic non-believer But now it's changed, you're worth your weight in gold The richest love ain't growing on the trees out here But confidently, I can say I'm sold

Stay all-in right now Salt drips from her brow No more days without Makes me feel so right I can do no wrong We'll keep going strong

“So Far Away” by Carole King

So far away Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see your face at my door And it doesn't help to know that you're just time away

Long ago, I reached for you and there you stood Holding you again could only do me good Oh, how I wish I could But you're so far away

“Beautiful” by Jessie Mueller, Beautiful Ensemble

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face And show the world all the love in your heart Then people gonna treat you better You're gonna find, yes, you will That you're beautiful as you feel

“Explain It at the Coffee Shop” by Ashton Edminster

Take my hand And hold it tight Look at the paintings I'll be your guide Don't stop looking in my eyes Are you cold Do you want to sit down I've been here a million times So I know my way around Don't stop looking at me now

“My Dude” by Litany

I hope you don't think I'm being cruel Only I'm a better match for you Oh what I'd give to be in her shoes Don't you know that

I really like you And if you liked me too I could be your girlfriend You could be my dude

“Runaway Man” by Olivia Willhite

So, baby, glide Right through the sky 'Cause you didn't look back when I said I loved you Baby, goodbye And leave me with a sigh You'll eventually hit the ground, and even then I'll be waiting for you

“Calvaire” by spill tab

Chiant tu m’exaspères Quand tu pars et tu me déserte Pres de toi chui jamais fière On finit toujours en guerre

You might like: Sally McKenna Playlist or Sarah’s AHS Characters (+Alice and a Ship) as Songs I’m Vibing With

#music #playlist post #audrey tindall #audrey #ahs #roanoke #ahs roanoke #american horror story #playlist #sarah paulson #american horror story roanoke #ahs playlist #american horror story playlist

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remember-the-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Heathers (Musical) Fem!Reader Insert

-NO JD.- time: 2020

"Martha~!" I said as I sat down at our table, handing her my sandwich, only wanting my fries.

"Thanks (Y/n)! How was your day?" She asked me.

"Well Veronica wasn't in first period so I had to finish out group project alone and she avoided me like a plague. Do you know why?" I said.

Martha was soon coughing on her drink.

"N-No reason!" She said, clearly lying. I stared at her until she craked.

"F-Fine. She somehow joined the Heathers." Said Martha.

"Oh heck no...." I said, sighing. Knowing nothing I could do beside wishing she'll come back to us unharm.

Veronica pov.

"You know (Y/n)?" I asked.

"Yes because She's one of the few people who don't care about The Heathers." Said Chandler, fixing her makeup.

"She doesn't really care for much of anything beside her grades and her friends." I told them.

"But She still choosed this life." Said Duke. "She's a bitch."

Oh God, (Y/n) might murder me...

(Y/n) pov.

"Can't we talk this out now? You shouldn't be rude." I said to Ram and Kurt, who was messing with me, again. I can't miss next class, I have a test today!

"We aren't being rude. We're just showing you a way of life that you're use to." Said Ram.

"So messing with me?" I said. They had me corner and I have not way out. I soon took out my wallet, giving them both 10 dollars. "Leave me alone for the rest of the week." I said, walking off.

'Did she just play them off?'

Thought Martha and Veronica.

3rd person pov.

"(Y/n)?" Said Veronica, knowing her friend has not yet talked to her. "I'm sorry, I wanted to know hey you didn't tell me Kurt and Ram was bothering you too." Said Veronica.

"You can't doing anything about anyway, Veronica." Said (Y/n). "You're a Heather, you now are above it all, remember?" She hissed. Veronica never knew (Y/n) could say a name in such disarray.

"See know, you're the only one that has ever that word, being truly angry." Said a new voice, behind (Y/n).

"Fudge." Mumbled (Y/n), turning around to face the 'Mythic Bitch' as Verinica once said. Heather Chandler, still as (Y/n) remembers, dressed in red.

"But I can promise you that next time would be your last mistake." Said Chandler, stepping closer to (Y/n).

(Y/n) sensing danger, stepped back into Veronica, who was visually tense. All three Heathers now stood in front of her and Veronica.

And (Y/n) did the only sensible thing.

*She ran away.

Veronica never seen (Y/n) run that fast ever.

"Atleast that scared her off for now." Said Duke.

"Come on Veronica, there is a party we have to go to tonight." Said McNamara.

(Y/n) pov.

"Martha, please don't go." I pleaded. "You can't believe that Ram has just changed."

"(Y/n), he invited me. I'm going with -."

"That's not alcohol. Here take with." I said handing her some of my Dad's John Daniel, taking the sparkling juice for myself.

"Thanks." She said hugging me. "You can come, you know."

"Don't do parties but if things go bad, you can come here and we can watch the Princess Bride." I told her, letting her go.

"I'll come here right away if anything goes wrong. Thanks for the drink. Bye." She said before leaving before I sighed, going to my dad to tell him he was out.

-Later that Night-

I was right to say, Martha said he wasn't as rude as he could have been because of the alcohol I gave her.

"Was Veronica there?" I asked.

"Y-Yes but please don't do hurt her." Said Martha, I sighed.

"Not today." I said. "But she will feel me anger soon. Now let's watch that movie."

-3:00 am-

I couldn't sleep, I was angry and I look at Martha, she was asleep on my bed. Luckly I lived in the attic so I had enough room for my bed and a couch with the TV. I sat up grabbing a jacket and my wallet and wrote a note just in case Martha wakes up.

I exited threw my window and there was ladder because one time I jump and sprained my ankle.

I soon was on the side walk, enjoying the coldness on my feet and the quietness of the world. Planing heading to 7/11 for some snacks.

"You know you have no shoes?" Asked a voice of a person, I didn't want to deal with.

"Don't care, I need some snacks." I told her.

"Get in my Jeep. I'll drop you off before heading home." Said Duke, stopping her Jeep.

"Fine but if you kidnap me, I'm gonna be upset." I told her, sitting in the passenger sit.

°°°

"Why are you up at 3 in the morning?" I asked.

"Leaving a party, you?" She said, sounding like she didn't truly care.

"Couldn't sleep so I've been watching TV." I said.

"You're so lame." Said Duke.

"Thanks." I said, not caring.

"You really don't care anymore?" She asked. "Not what people say about you or what they may do to you?" She continued to ask me.

"Caring is for the weak or strong." I said as she parked her Jeep. "Thanks, Heather." I exited her car and ran into the store.

"(Y/n)! Where the heck were you?" Said Martha as I entered the window, with 3 bags of stuff.

"7/11. For snacks.-"

"At 4 in the morning?!" She said.

"Well it was 3 when I left." I said sitting down own my couch. Martha soon sat beside, looking though the bags.

"Sodas, chips, a monster, those tiny bread sticks you dip in cheese, pringles, slim Jim, and shoes?" Said Martha.

"No shoes no shirt no business is an awful rule." I told her. "I wanted to binge watch something on Netflix, now if you want to..?"

"Of course but we have school tomorrow." Said Martha. "How are going to stay awake?"

"I'll get though it, I'm bring snack to school tommorow if we have any left." I said snickering and letting Martha pick a TV show to watch.

-Next Morning-

I was drink the energy drink so I could stay alive and not accident hurt someone's emotions.

"Hopefully you don't run into Veronica today, for her own sake." Said Martha as I leaned on her for support.

"You look like hell." Said Veronica, I just glared at her talking a sip of my drink. "Oh. You didn't sleep?"

"Yeah. Me and Martha had a sleepover last night." I told her, be nice I told myself.

"Less sleep when it came to you?" Said Veronica before she was pulled away by something yellow.

"Bye..." said Martha and I before we headed to cafeteria. There was a female at our table, maybe she is a new student. Me and Martha sat in front of her. She was reading a book but she soon noticed us.

"Oh. Hello." She said putting down her book. "I'm Penny. Nice to meet you." Said Penny.

"Hey."

"Hello."

Martha and Penny soon got in discussion about the book Penmy was reading.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"(Y/n)." I said, busy being on my phone.

"It fits you." She said and I was questioning her motives.

"Thank you?" I said and she laughed.

"Are you not use to getting compliments?" She said. "You're kinda cute."

"I'm gonna go somewhere else now! Bye." I said getting my stuff and running off, not noticing the extra people listening to the conversation.

Hiding in the bathroom was a bad idea on my part but I wasn't think clearly.

"(Y/n)?" Questioned Veronica seeing me in a stall. "What are you doing here?" She questioned, seeing my red face. "Are you sick?"

"Didn't think you would ever sho-. What is wrong with you?" Said Chandler.

"She's red." Said Veronica.

The bell rang and I soon tried to run but someone got the back of my by bag, taking my energy drink.

"This isn't good for you, you know?" Said McNamara, going to pour it out.

"No! I didn't sleep last night so I kinda need that." I said struggling with Duke holding both of my arms.

"So you didn't get your beauty sleep... We will give it back if you tell us what got you so red and hiding." Said Chandler.

"It was the new girl, Penny. She called me cute and I freaked out."" I said and Veronica laughed.

"You really can't handle people flirting with you." Said Veronica, still laughing.

Then I felt Duke's breath on my neck and her leaning on my shoulder.

"You don't say?" She said and because of the other reaction, I was blushing. McNamara handed me my energy drink.

"Thank you." I said taking a few sips, trying to cool my face.

"No problem, sweetie." She said making me cough and choke on my drink.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I asked.

"No. Embarrase you, yes." Said Chandler.

"..." I have nothing else to say and have no clue what to do now. "Can I go now?" I asked.

"Hang on..." said Chandler, she put both her hands on my cheeks and leaned in, getting really closer. "That girl was right tho, you are cute." Said Chandler before backing away laughing. But this time I wasn't blushing because I expected it. I was pissed.

They noticed this.

"What I am I not good enough-?!"

"No!" I yelled getting out of Duke's grip. "No of you are! That the reason I don't worship you like the rest of the school because this is w-what you do. Mess with people!" I said barely low enough not to be yelling.

"(Y/n), calm down before you regret-." Said Veronica.

"You, I'm angry at too." I said.

"Me?"

"Yes! You go off to join the Heather's then I know you wrote that note that Martha got and you didn't even try to help her! She came to me upset and crying Veronica!" I said to her.

"Miss Emotional." Said Duke.

"... Screw staying here I rather be tartey or have dentention." I said heading out.

-Lunch time-

"I'm sorry Penny, I'm really not use to people flirting with me. Sorry if I upset you." I said.

"It's fine, I enjoyed your reactions. Plus you gave me a whole bag of chips and a sandwich." Said Penny, eating the food I gave her.

"So... I kinda made the Heathers and Veronica mad at me." I said.

"Who are they?"

"Why (Y/n)? I'm pretty sure they can get away with murder."

That were the two very different reactions I got.

"Heather are like the Queens of this jungle of a school and our friend, Veronica joined them earlier this week." I explained.

"Oh. (Y/n), you sound very screwed. I advise become homeschooled." Said Penny.

"Yeah but my mom is never home and my dad isn't that smart." I explained.

"Hey (Y/n). Saw you talking to the Heathers earlier today." Said Kurt, as he and Ram sat on both sides of me.

"Thinking you might be moving up in this world, thought I would give you a chance with us." Said Ram.

"No thanks." I said.

"Are you Homo?" Asked Kurt, acting like it 1989.

"Boys, its 2020. Grow up and learn some manners." I told them, trying to get them to back away.

But everything I've tried today seem to fail as the two boys leaned closer, onto me.

"You're just playing hard to get, sweetheart." One of them said. I've been though to much today emotional to deal with shit.

"(Y/n), are they bothering you?" Asked McNamara. I could not see her but seeing was Penny and Martha looked behind me, she was there.

"Yes." I said and the two boys were drag off the seat and away from me to the floor before I could see anything gruesome, or look behind me. Veronica sat beside me and pulled me into a hug and I yawn.

"You okay?" She asked.

"Mmm."

"I'm taking that's a yes. You sleepy?"

"Mmm."

"Okay." Said Veronica. She was warm and I had my eyes closed and I was slowly losing my conscious.

"Shut upp."

"Did she just tell me to shut up in her sleep?" I heard someone, clearly Chandler, say.

I was something really comfortable, more than Veronica. A bed? Martha? I was very confused and still kinda sleepy. My couch.

"Her room is a mess." Said Duke.

"If you don't like it, you can leave." I muttered, sitting up.

"Hey! We didn't have to save you from the two idoits earlier." Said Duke.

"They wouldn't have come after me if they didn't see me with you three." I told them, I yawned. "You know what I don't care."

"You really don't care? If someone messes with you?" Said McNamara.

"I'm to tired to care at the moment." I said.

"You just woke up." Said Chandler earning glare from me and she glared right back.

"And I would have stayed that way if I didn't hear your voice." I said before earning everyone's glares beside Veronica. "Okay, sorry. Just stop staring at me." I complained. Someone grabbed my chin hard making me look at them, Chandler.

"Do not insult me (Y/n)." She said making me and everyone else shiver.

"N-Noted. P-Please let my chin go so I wouldn't have a bruise." I said, but her gripped tighten. Getting a whimper out of me.

"Apologize."

"OKAY! I'M SORRY." I said and she finally let me go. That was definitely going to leave a bruise.

"Did you really have to do that?" Said Veronica, heading over to me.

"She needs to know who is in charge even if we aren't in school, Veronica." Said Chandler, glaring at Veronica who was checking on my forming bruise.

"You didn't need to hurt her!" Said Veronica, hugging me and I accepted the hug, hugging her back.

"Are you questioning me?" Asked Chandler, I could feel her glare on us.

"You can't be serious." Said Duke. "Don't defend her Veronica."

"..." McNamara was quiet for this.

"Get out." I said, letting Veronica go. "Now."

"You'll regret this (Y/n)." Said Chandler. I laughed at this.

"Oh?" I said, getting completely serious, knocking her off guard. "You can mess with in school but in my house, Chandler. This is my territory. So get out."

I clearly scared them, Chandler huffed.

"Fine. Veronica, this isn't over." She said before leaving my room with the other Heathers.

"You should go with them Veronica. I'm going to mess up this deal you have with them."

"It doesn't matter (Y/n)! She just injured you! I know they have their issues with you but injuring you is something else."

"...It's not the first time Veronica." I muttered and Veronica gasped. "There's a story, there was a time where there wasn't any shit between use. Last year of Middle School."

- 2016

I was a bright kid, making people happy and being nice was a thing I was great at. Diffently to my neighbor Heather McNamara, who's been making me call her McNamara since there was 2 other Heathers at the school.

I've hung out with the three of them a few times. They seemed to be nice but they were getting more popular with the other students.

I felt that we were drifting away from each other but me being myself, knew if that what was to make her happy, I was happy.

So I started talking to other people like Martha. Clearly someone didn't like it as I was pulled in a closed off classroom one break period.

"(Y/n)." Said Chandler. "We tolerate you but your just not caring."

I was bullying confused.

"Not caring?" I questioned.

"About your reputation at this school! You've started hanging out with Martha now, like you're wanting to be her friend." Said Duke and I made a face.

"(Y/n)." Said McNamara and I looked her in the eyes. "Don't you see what we've been trying to give you? You could have all the power over these students. You'll be at the top with me!"

"Well below us but above everyone else." Said Chandler.

"Nah." I said.

"What?" Said McNamara.

"You aren't hanging out with the right people Heather but I'm not gonna stop you but I'm not helping." I said before leaving.

But Chandler had others ideas and grabbed my arm and dug her nails into my skin.

"Stop thinking like a fool for once. We are offer you power and popularity and you say no to us?" She said.

"Y-yes?" I told her before she pulled me closer to her.

"You are going to regret this, I swear." She said letting me go and pushing me out of the classroom. I stumbled to get my standing.

"(Y/n) there you are!" Said Martha and I turned to face her. She was dragging a tall lanky girl behind her. "I want you to meet my other bestie, Veronica." Said Martha.

"It's nice to meet you Veronica. I'm happy to finally do so since Martha talks about you as much as her taste in movies." I said.

"Right back at ya." Said Veronica. "Did you get...um injured?" She asked looking at my arm. There was bloody nail marks on my arm let by the one and not only Heather, Chandler.

"I probably scratched it on something, don't worry. I got bandaids in my bag but worry if we get in class on time." I said noticing the time.

-2020

"I'm gonna murder them." Said Veronica.

"Calm down. That's in the past and it would have stayed there if someone wasn't a fool and joined them." I said. "What were you even thinking?! Things with them never end well with the other party." I exploded at her before she pulled me into a hug. I felt she was crying.

"I'm sorry." She muttered.

"Me too."

- NEXT DAY

Veronica had left and I've haven't seen her at school. She wasn't with the Heather's. I sat with Penny and Martha as normal.

"Penny, I've given you enough time to realise that we aren't popular at all. Like being seen with us will lower it for you." I told her and she just giggles.

"I don't really care about that. I enjoy both of your friendships and I love turning your red in the morning (Y/n)." Said Penny. What is with her and flirting with me every morning?

I turn red still being not use to it and Martha laughs at my misery.

"I've never seen anyone who takes a compliment like you, like no one notices your beauti."

"Ahahaha." I nervously laughed.

"So you're the Penny, (Y/n) was talking about." Said Veronica, out of nowhere with the Heathers. Weren't they mad at her? Penny and I turned around in our seats to face them.

"So you've been talking about me? I'm flattered." Said Penny. "But yes I am that Penny, what do you want?" She said with a different tone altogether, making me nervous.

"Back off of what's not yours." Said Chandler.

What? I'm not anyone's.

"Who said?" Asked Penny. "(Y/n) is a single female and fits all I like in a girl."

"W-wait what?" I said.

"Be quiet for me honey please." Said Penny.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I actually listened.

"You can't actually think you'll win against us." Said Duke.

"And if you do win, what are you going to do then? Fight each other? Because I know you incapable of sharing." Said Penny. "I went to middle school with all of you. I know how you've fought over her then and then decided to hate her when she said no to your little plan of popularity."

I'm super happy everyone decided to leave, probably because the Heathers threatened them.

"Stalker much?" Said Duke.

"I was always on the side line but it doesn't matter." Said Penny. She didn't answer the question. "(Y/n) has already said no to the three of you, why try again?"

"I'm confused. You liked me back then?" I questioned.

"It was obvious." Said McNamara.

"To a normal person! I can be dense as fuck when it comes to romance!" I told her.

"We noticed." Said Duke and Penny put an arm around me and pulled me closer earning glares and growles from the others.

"I'm sorry but I can't let you have this." Said Penny before putting a hand on my face and turned me to look at her.

"Penny?" I questioned.

"I know it is unlikely for you to chose me but it wouldn't stop me from trying." She said before kissing me on my lips, stealing my first kiss.

It ended as quickly as it happened because I was pulled away and out of my seat and McNamara had her arms me and held my back towards her.

I looked behind me and at her and she moved her hand to mouth and wipe off was probably Penny's lipstick.

I couldn't focus on what the others were doing, probably yelling at Penny, knowing they couldn't truly harm her physically.

"Are you okay?" Asked McNamara, seeming to know I was in a daze.

"I'm feeling out of it. Probably because the shock of 5 girls actually like me and one just kissed me." I said truthfully.

"Ah... I'm sorry for all of this."

"Me too." I mumbled.

1/13/2020

This has been a year and 2 day long thing. I'd lost interest in it for awhile but I reread it and fixed it and finished it. Clearly it's not done but it felt how this part should end.

Forgiving for what they've caused the other, knowing or not. I know this isn't my normal gender neutral but this is one of my passion of my love of women and before I started doing all my writing gender neutral.

#heathers x reader #heathers #heathers musical #female reader

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