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#its for texting but it can extend to talking
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Proposal to update the days of the week to be more streamlined and efficient for our modern economy:
Monday -> Mondy
Tuesday->Toody
Wednesday (worst offender)->Wendy(beautiful girl and burgers)
Thursday->Thirdy (or Thirsdy)
Friday->Fridy
Saturday->Saddy
Sunday->Sundy
Thank you for coming to my ted talk
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mxdotpng · 3 months
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for being a monster of the week type manga nightow does a really good job at making each and every episode relevant. i think having zed's introduction, the lunch chapter, zapp & zed's short chapter, and then zed's backstory chapter lead up to each other slowly despite being in separate seasons and separated by other plotlines was a really great way to build up zapp, leo, and zed's relationship. you can very clearly see their transition from (begrudging) coworkers to friends. in back 2 back, zed's backstory chapter to the finale where he defended leo's choice in front of the other libra members felt so significant, because leo had done something similar before hand, and at the cost of his own health. then, the many instances of steven having his own scenes, often alone, cemented the idea of him being entirely okay with dubious or morally grey actions "for the sake of peace", often at his own hypocrisy when trusting klaus' methods, which again came up in the back 2 back finale. i think i could just keep going and going but you get my point. and i love them.
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fellhellion · 6 months
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90s run PAD has this rlly annoying trend where he very often write a female character being in love w miguel and suddenly her entire character shrinks down to the scope of what drama this provokes and it's near continually in service to the narratives of men (Gabriel and Miguel interpersonal drama for example). even when there are actually interesting things to be mined from this angle like w lyla its like. this is a pattern w you dude.
#my GOD we lost kasey nash in the wars skdfhjkdshfkjs#like. it sucked. the fact she goes from a revolutionary to primarily a wedge between gabri and miguel SUCKS.#for some reason its like folks pretend PAD also literally wasnt writing the kronom arc where character assasination is happening#left and right to prop up dana as a martry. when like he was literally just writing that.#like im sorry i love the 90s run too and i have a lot of sympathy for the strain the team wouldve been under while corp bullshit was#exploding above their heads but like. the fact PAD appears to like. just not be fucking bothered to explain what#danas thought processes are flipping from one belief to a wildly opposing one is just bad and tbh LAZY writing#and this is happening dozens of issues before the worst irl circumstances for the team even cropped up#tunes talks critical#can u tell im on my period lmao#tunes talks 2099#like even regarding xina. i think she escapes the worst of this writing treatment from PAD but like. the fact that the dimension PRIMARILY#explored in the text w her is around her relationship w miguel is honestly really disappointing. i LIKE that dimension yes but there is so#much more to explore with her! does she have friends outside of miguel (and if not does this tie into her apparent isolation from alchemax)#how does xina operate as a relatively independant and implied self employed individual in this world of corp monopolies#she CARES about the truth and fighting back against false narratives spun to consolidate power and profit so how does this extend into her#normal life? does she know about downtown when education wise this seems to be something utterly ommitted? what does she think about it?#what kind of hope did she hold regarding angela's work?#if she believes miguel to still work at alchemax why is this not a point of conflict between them? does she fear losing him? did she give#up trying? etc etc etc there are SO many compelling dimensions to explore w her and the text keeps them#largely sublimated to background details in the art. or what we can interpret as sublimated conflicts the characters dont want to address#but in terms of what is in the TEXT i want more. i want more as someone who really loves this fucking thing lmao
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jellyfishjunkie · 29 days
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very sad 90% (not all) of my relationships (friendship and otherwise) is reliant on just me making the first moves, whether it be texting first or even starting and maintaining conversations when we r in person. it's kinda so depressing and exhausting.
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81folklore · 7 months
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this is me trying - CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x small!singer!reader (fc: olivia rodrigo)
summary: after a twitter thread was made talking about the struggles you faced in a horrible way, you release a song you wrote with charles to talk about it
authors note: i am in no way saying olivia has struggled with or is dealing with anything mentioned in this story. this song means alot to me as someone who struggles with both addiction and my mental health so if im projecting..no one needs to know😁 i honestly have no clue how this is going to turn out but we will see. anything in bold italics is french
warnings: talks of addiction, depression, anxiety and suicide. alcohol addiction, drugs and self harm are all mentioned. the topics of this is me trying are mentioned, for obvious reasons but in a more personally focused way (if that makes sense). unwarrented hate (?). nothing really goes into detail but just regular warnings, please reach out to someone if you are struggling!!
authors note 2: i had to dust this one off and I HATE IT. its literally my least favorite work ive ever done so please feel free to keep scrolling😭😭 i just kept projecting by accident and it honestly kind of got out of hand. im also SO BAD with my wording so i have no clue if any of it sounds how i wanted it too!!
authors note 3: after reading it over i realised i never actually explained what i was talking about in the song thread so quickly, charles’ and yn split for a short period after yn started shutting him out, she spoke to someone (the stranger) who helped her start to extend the branches back out to charles and they got back together around 11 ish months before the song was released!! the fans never knew why they broke up, there was some speculation but most of it was dropped when they got back toegther
masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 2,457 others
good food, yummy people😋
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arthur_leclerc: you mean good people yummy food right?
yourusername: suuure😁
charles_leclerc: beautiful girl
yourusername: love you!!
user7: what is charles doing in the 5th picture😭😭
yourusername: he dropped his airpod😭
user10: girl have you seen twitter…
user75: charles run as fast as you can
user2: there is no way charles knew he’d never be with someone like that💀
user10: what and he’d be with someone like you??
user6: wait what is happening in these comments what happened on twitter?
user7: someone made a thread ‘exposing’ yn but its just a bunch of bullshit that his fans are using because they dont like yn
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yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 3,562 other
studio time with baeee💋💋
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charles_leclerc: my favorite musician💐
charles_leclerc: i love you so much
yourusername: you mean the world to me charlie
pierregasly: kika wants to know if she can come next time
yourusername: tell her to text me so we can arrange it!!
user73: oh my god new music soon
user64: does this mean charles is on her new music?!
yourusername: maybeee
user64: GIRL DONT TEASE US LIKE THIS
user99: im so sorry about whats happening on twitter you dont deserve that
user2: yes she does
arthur_leclerc: can you tell charles to stop talking about your music when im not allowed to hear it, please🙏
yourusername: sorry arthur!! wanna come for a car ride and listen to it with us??
arthur_leclerc: please please please
user82: yn and charles taking arthur on a car ride to listen to her new song, oh what if i cried😭😭
arthur_leclerc added to their story
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seen by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 86,289 others
*text in first picture reads: 🤍🤍* *text in second picture reads: so unbelievably proud of my sister*
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 8,215 others
if you had told me a year ago that not only would i still be here but i would be releasing a song talking about the darkest times of my life with the love of my life by my side i would never have believed you.
throughout the past few months i have revisited times of my life i wish i could have left behind but ive learnt that accepting that this is a part of me now is important in my journey of moving forwards, and in moving forwards ive learnt that my struggles do not define me and i wont be embarrassed by things that have affected me
sometimes i wish i could go back and erase that part of my life, erase the way i felt, erase the way i treated the people i loved the most. but i cant, and i wont let people belittle me for that time anymore
if you have struggled in the past or are struggling today, you are not alone. its a cliche thing to say but i promise you at least one other person will be experiencing the feelings your feeling, you may not know them, you may never know them but you are not alone, you never have been and you never will be
you are not weak for struggling, you are not weak for finding ways to cope, no matter what they may be, you are not weak for shutting people out and you are not weak for reaching out for help, no matter how little you think you need it. you deserve help, no matter how small your problems may seem to you, you are worthy of being safe, you are worthy of being happy
i never thought i would release a song highlighting those times for me, but i wanted anyone whose been through these things to know that i love you and i will always love you; this is me trying out now on all platforms❤️‍🩹
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arthur_leclerc: i am so so proud of you, you deserve all the happiness in the world
charles_leclerc: you mean the world to me, i am so proud of what you have achieved and i will be by your side forever and always
yourusername: charlie i hold so much love for you i feel like i may explode
user55: ive been struggling with an addiction for a while, i cannot express the way this song feels. just, thank you so much
yourusername: im right beind you darling, i believe in you❤️‍🩹
user81: i fear if i listen to this anywhere outside of the comfort of my room i will break down in tears
user93: 🩵🩵
user42: I😭JUST😭WANTED😭YOU😭TO😭KNOW😭THAT😭THIS😭IS😭ME😭TRYING😭
sebastianvettel: im so proud of you yn, come visit with charles soon sweetheart
yourusername: dropping everything and coming right now
lewishamilton: 💜💜
yourusername: hi lewis🤭🤭
user70: YN HELP😭😭 (just like me fr)
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charles_leclerc and yourusername added to their stories
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seen by pierregasly, sebastianvettel and 2,348,172 others
*text on first photo reads: i hold so much love for you🩷* *text on second photo reads: my bestest friend in the entire universe🩵*
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zeroeightzeroone · 3 months
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i'm proud of you - han jisung
love collection
genre: soft, comfort
synopsis: after a long day and an even longer past couple of weeks, jisung needs you
pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)
warnings: ji is stressed
wc ~2.2k | moodboard
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:★,。・:*:・゚
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j.one<3: i need you i'm coming over i'll be there in 30
you: i'll unlock the door in 25
taking into account how busy jisung has been the past couple of weeks and the way he's texting you, something is going on with him.
its that time of the year when stray kids are preparing for their comeback and for the past couple of weeks, along with the other members' schedules, jisung's schedule has been packed to the brim. he's been in and out of the recording studio, the dance practice room, attending interviews and pre-recordings to prepare with the rest of the boys, basically working non-stop.
of course, jisung loves his job and is grateful for the opportunity to write, produce and release his music–something he is very passionate about–to the world. but at the end of the day, much like any other job, it can pile up and become incredibly overwhelming. sometimes, you have to take a step back to breathe and return to a better headspace.
along with your boyfriend's schedule, yours has also been packed to the brim. thus, neither of you had the opportunity to spend too much time with the other over the past couple of weeks. the extent of your time together consisting of short, sweet text messages throughout the day, if you were lucky a short phone call before bed to exchange goodnight's.
jisung has reached his limit, he's hit a breaking point. he knows that if he doesn't get at least one night to take a break he may go insane. he needs to take a step back, he needs to take a breather, he needs you.
being one-third of 3racha meant chan had the opportunity to see jisung a bit more than the others, which also meant he had the opportunity to see jisung's well-being take a critical hit and suffer as the days went on. seeing how the boys were exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, chan immediately went to the company to talk with their management and request they take–at the least–a day off.
despite jisung having a key to your apartment, you unlock the door twenty-five minutes before his expected arrival. and a little over five minutes later, he's standing outside your front door and softly knocking to notify you of his arrival. the knocks prompt you off the couch and onto your feet, making your way to the entrance as jisung shuts the door behind him.
your assumption that something is going on is only confirmed when jisung avoids your gaze while discarding his shoes, no words leaving his pouted lips. it's clear he isn't in the best place mentally or emotionally, while you aren't a hundred percent sure of the details, you do know that–much like his texts–he needs you and that you'll be there for him in any way possible.
now that his feet are only clad with his cotton socks, jisung takes a couple steps towards you and places a lingering kiss on your forehead, his shoulders relax the slightest bit as his hands find yours. when he pulls away, he's still avoiding your gaze, but being with him for as long as you have; you don't take it personally. hand in hand, jisung trails behind you as you walk through the apartment and into your bedroom. following quietly and waiting patiently whilst you approach the dresser, pulling out a pair of his sweatpants from the drawer of his clothes.
you turn to him, glancing down at his black denim jeans, "it'll be more comfortable? it's up to you though."
jisung extends his arms and takes the sweatpants out of your hands and into his own. he quickly changes out of the jeans, which are now in a pile on the floor and into the grey sweatpants, you turn to climb into your bed but jisung's hand is suddenly wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.
your head cocked in confusion, you stare at your boyfriend.
jisung, who came over clad in a black hoodie, quickly removes the thick fabric from his body. the white long-sleeved shirt he wears underneath rises along with the fabric before it slumps back in place once the hoodie is discarded. you watch jisung with curious eyes as he steps towards you, pulling the hoodie over your head, the fabric bunching up around your neck and shoulders.
he can definitely see the way your cheeks are burning up.
your boyfriend moves your arms around, pulling them through the sleeves before he adjusts the thick fabric around your body. a hum of satisfaction leaves him before he crawls into your bed and makes himself comfortable under the covers.
jisung loves you in his clothes, that fact stays consistent no matter how he's feeling.
snapping out of your daze, you follow suit and crawl under the covers next to jisung who chooses to be the small spoon today. his arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your stomach. you feel the way his body relaxes the slightest bit as he nuzzles into your side, pulling you impossibly closer to him. one of your hands ends up in his dark hair, gently carding through the shaggy locks whilst the other one gently caresses his cheekbone.
a wave of comfort washes over jisung at the feeling of your fingertips grazing his scalp, coupled with the feeling of your arms around his body, holding him close, your warmth radiating onto him as a trembling breath leaves his lips. once again, jisung nuzzles into your side but this time to his his face in the fabric of the hoodie. hiding the way his already glossy eyes brim with tears along his waterline, the warm droplets soaking up into the thick fabric. the first whimper that leaves jisung has you immediately holding him tighter, continuing to run your fingers through his hair and reminding him that you're here.
your heart aches at the sound of your boyfriend's cries.
being with jisung for as long as you have, you knew not to take his habit of avoiding your gaze personally. you're very familiar with his habit of avoiding direct eye contact with anyone when he's feeling down or particularly stressed out. you aren't entirely sure of the reason why, but you believe that what isn't seen in jisung's other facial expressions is shown in his eyes. thus, when he is upset or down, avoiding eye contact also means hiding the inner turmoil that is clearly present in his eyes.
with how observant you are, jisung became aware early on in your relationship that it didn't take you long to pick up on this habit of his. it's now something you look out for whenever jisung is feeling distant or in the dumps, it took a while but you eventually found a couple of methods that worked best when jisung fell into this distressed state.
over the years, you have become a lifeline in jisung's life. you are his place of comfort, a home where his heart belongs, where it feels safe. which is precisely why he avoids making eye contact with you in an emotionally sensitive state. the sight of your warm and welcoming eyes would result in an immediate breakdown. the way your eyes sparkle up at him, swimming with concern and a yearning for him would immediately break down his walls, allowing him to be vulnerable around you. allowing his emotions to spill out into your open arms, ready to be a pillar of support for him.
for the next couple of moments, you continue to run your fingers through jisung's hair as he holds your body close and cries into your side. when his sobs gradually become hiccups and sniffles, that's when you take the opportunity to say a couple of words.
"if you wanna talk about it, i'm here," you say softly, "if not, i'm still here."
you crane your head to look down at your boyfriend who moves his head to look up at you, his round eyes puffy and glossy, his eyelashes clumped together with tears. jisung nods, a small smile playing on his lips–one that's more genuine than the others he forced out earlier.
"thank you," he sniffles, his voice is the slightest bit raspy.
you shake your head, moving the hand that isn't in his hair to his cheek to wipe some of his tears. admiration bubbling up inside when jisung leans into your touch.
the both of you fall into a comfortable silence, relishing in the presence of your lover and the warmth that radiates off their body. a presence and a feeling that your busy lives have depraved you both of the past couple of weeks.
despite prolonged periods where you and jisung are deprived of physical affection from the other due to your busy schedules, being able to be under the other's touch, cradled in the other's arms for even just a few moments feels like a reward for all that's been accomplished in your separate lives. being in the arms of your lover exudes a feeling of comfort, and tranquillity, that eventually everything will fall into place, a feeling of reassurance that your hard work is paying off.
sometimes you find it crazy how a simple touch from jisung can turn everything upside down. you could be having a terrible day and he could pull you into his arms and all of a sudden your day ends on a high note.
jisung shares the same sentiment, after weeks of grinding through work that's been piling on and on, being with you, in your arms is just what he needed. you are just what he needs.
you watch with curiosity as jisung moves higher on the bed and onto his back. he locks eyes with you and extends his arms in your direction.
"i wanna hold my baby," he opens and closes his fists, beckoning you into his hold.
you hesitate for a moment, thinking you're here to comfort him. but your boyfriend notices your hesitation and takes it upon himself to pull you into his arms. you rest your cheek against his chest while he holds you tightly. you adjust your head and look up at your boyfriend, whose eyes are still puffy and slightly red. he scrunches his nose when he looks down at you, indicating that he's feeling much better than when he first arrived.
you giggle at his antics.
jisung places a hand on your cheek, much like you did earlier, and caresses your cheekbone gently. gazing down at you with clear adoration in his eyes, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, the corners of his lips tugging upwards as he looks down at you.
he sighs, "work's been a lot lately," you nod and he continues, "i want to make sure i'm putting my best foot forward and doing my best work but it's hard when there's so much going on. i don't wanna disappoint you, the other members, stay."
he takes a moment to think.
"at the same time, i know it's unrealistic to think i–or anyone really– could possibly please everyone. there's always gonna be people that aren't pleased with the things you do and that's life, right?"
your eyes scan over your boyfriend's face as he walks both you and himself through his thoughts.
"which is why i shouldn't be scared of disappointing people if i choose to take a break, to take care of myself when things get overwhelming," he sighs, "but at the same time it's so hard to break out of the mindset where taking breaks means not being productive, i'm so used to thinking that way, you know?"
you hum in acknowledgment, "i know, baby."
"at the very least, i realized sooner rather than later this time. i'm able to take a break earlier instead of further down the line."
"i'm proud of you for taking a much-needed break. you've been working so hard, love."
"thank you, my y/n," jisung's eyes sparkle down at you.
"i understand how you feel, i get like that sometimes to, which you know already," he nods, "i know how hard you work and stay knows how hard you work to give them and show them your best work."
you adjust the position you're lying in so you get a better view of jisung's face.
"i've seen the work you've put out and ones that you haven't yet, they're all amazing. absolute works of art and a testament of your hard work, passion and dedication to your craft."
your boyfriend's eyes dart away from yours as his cheeks flush, heart skipping a beat at your words. jisung always gets quite flustered when he hears kind words praising his work, but he gets particularly flustered when he hears them from you.
"you do your best when you also feel your best. it's definitely easier said than done to extend the compassion and value to yourself since we are, are own biggest critics. nevertheless, i'll be here to reassure you that stay would love to hear that you were able to rest and take breaks in the middle of working hard. i'll always be here to tell you that you're working so hard and are more than deserving of a break, to rest."
jisung leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment before he pulls away with a lazy smile.
"you've been working so hard, you've been doing amazing. you're doing so well and i'm so proud of you, han jisung."
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delfiore · 9 months
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—THE HAPPIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.
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pairing: tara carpenter x reader
synopsis: your ex-girlfriend is a drunken mess at a college party and the only person her friends think to call is you.
word count: 1.8k
warnings: extensive talk of vomit, mentions of ghostface attack
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Your phone blared in your ears like some kind of end-of-the-world siren. Groaning, you lifted your head from your laptop on the desk and answered the call. Mindy’s voice sounded in a panic as you caught a glimpse of the time, 11:46pm.
“Y/N, we need you at Greg’s party. Tara is literally blacked-out drunk and she’s like throwing up non-stop, and we don’t know what to do. She won’t let us take her home and—”
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down,” you felt the oncoming headache in your temple. Your hazy mind began to spiral.
Mindy had been gracious enough to allow you space after the breakup. You were a part of the friend group but chose to distance yourself afterward, but Mindy and Anika were the ones you still talk to occasionally. Sometimes the way they bounced between you and Tara made you feel like the divorced parent hanging out with your kids every two weeks.
“I’m studying for finals.” You rubbed your eyes.
“Please, Y/N. She won’t budge. If it weren’t this dire, you know I wouldn’t call you.”
You knew it was true, but it’s only been two months.
News of the party had been bubbling around campus for a few weeks now. Everyone has been talking about Greg Hansen’s end-of-semester party, even if you weren’t coming, the gossip was what kept it alive. Even more so when it was a party thrown by someone from your major; you were always hearing about it. So you also knew where it was.
When you arrived, you couldn’t be more appalled by the concoction of weed, sweat, and beer wafting in your face the moment you walked through the door. In the corner of the living room was Greg Hansen, chugging beer from a tube as his henchmen hyped him up, being the life of the party as always. But you needed to find Mindy and, eventually, Tara.
You texted an ‘I’m here’ to Mindy and looked around for any sign of a familiar face when a hand clasped around your shoulder. Turning around in fright, you relaxed when you realized it was Chad.
“She’s in the bathroom. This way, come on.”
Mindy couldn’t answer your text because she and Anika were busy holding back Tara’s hair as she was emptying the contents of her stomach. Sure you’ve seen how bad Tara can be after parties. but never this bad.
“Good, you’re here.” Mindy turned around, relieved. “We need to leave, now.”
A groan escaped the raven-haired girl’s mouth as she sat back against the bathtub. It was then that you got a good look at her face, the first time you did in months. Suddenly it felt hard to breathe.
“Tara, come on. I’m taking you home,” you said.
Her eyes opened slowly. They were glazed over, but there was a moment where her eyes met yours and you thought she had sobered up, but soon after she pulled herself upright, groaning again before staggering out of the bathroom.
“Tara, where are you going, man?” Chad asked, dejected.
She didn’t respond.
Without an answer, she found the near bottle, not caring what its content was, and felt for an empty red solo cup.
You scoffed and took the cup from her. “I think you’ve had enough, don’t you think?”
“I don’t care what you think. Give it back.” Tara protested and reached for the cup in your hand, which you have extended far beyond her reach, the other arm pushing against her. Her frustration was apparent as she shoved you aside with a cry. “Get the fuck away from me!”
“Tara, enough.”
She held your gaze like there was fire in her eyes. Her lips wobbled, as she looked back at her friends behind you with a betraying look. You knew you had won from the way she pulled her arm away from you roughly, and looked out at the ground like a scolded child.
“I’m taking you home.” Your voice softened and gestured towards the door. Tara staggered towards the exit but crumbled against a wall like a piece of paper. You quickly grasped her hand to support her, but she swatted your hand away and made her way outside herself.
You sighed and turned towards the Meeks-Martin twins. “We’ll be okay. You guys can stay if you want.” The twins looked at each other and shrugged before going their separate ways back into the party.
You found her on the lawn, squatting on the ground and groaning.
“Come on, don’t be stubborn.” You rolled your eyes and tapped your foot impatiently. “I was in the middle of revision.”
It was a weird sight, seeing her in the passenger seat of your car again after you had made it your mission to get rid of everything inside that reminded you of her; a half-drunken water bottle in the door compartment, a few hair ties in the cup holder, her forgotten sunglasses in the glove compartment. You had thrown all of it away before proceeding to have a mental breakdown in the driver’s seat.
“Jesus, who the fuck puts the seat so far back?” You heard the girl next to you mutter, as she scrambled to pull the seat forward.
You looked out your window to hide the grin that made its way onto your lips. Tara was smaller than your average passenger, and that seat hadn’t been seen so far up in a while.
“Can I go now?” You said mockingly.
“Yes,” you heard her mumble into the window, propping her face on her hand.
The ride back to her apartment was mostly silent, except for the handful of times you heard quiet gags next to you, to which you grimaced and handed her a plastic bag you found lying around.
“Please don’t barf in my car. I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”
At a red stop, you grabbed your phone to check the time; 12:16am. You felt her eyes on you, her inebriated, yet dreamy eyes, that you knew if you looked you wouldn’t be able to look away. Try as you might, you couldn’t resist. Her body was shifted so that her head was resting against the window and her legs pressed against her chest. But what made your breath hitch was the way those eyes were trained on you. There wasn’t any sign of that hatred or fury or whatever she felt that was spilling out of her with the alcohol; with her bangs tousled over half her face and hooded eyelids like this, Tara just looked lost and defeated, and in need of a kiss.
She always looked like this, in need of cuddles and kisses, after parties and you were always ready to take care of her.
The red light on her face shifted to green, and you quickly pressed the gas pedal to bring her back home, then you could go back home, and everything would be back to the way it was.
You’d be happily carrying on with your life without Tara in it.
Despite rejecting your help earlier, she did end up needing it when both of you dragged each other up the stairs (you more than her) to her apartment. The light in the hallway was off, which meant her sister wasn’t home.
You tried to set her down gently, but she threw herself onto the bed like a body bag, face-first.
You called her name once, twice.
“Huh?”
“Are you gonna sleep in that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“In a full face of makeup too?”
No reply. You shook your head and pulled her sitting up, and shed her jacket.
But she was still looking at you, the way she did in the car. You sat there, dumbfounded.
You had to go, revision was waiting.
“Wait,” she said, grasping your hand.
You refused to look at her.
She sounded like she didn’t know what she wanted from you either. There were noises of hesitancy coming out of her mouth, but nothing to convince you.
Until she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” she pressed.
“No,” you shook your head, and tried to leave, but she had grasped your arm desperately.
“Wait, please.”
You were grateful for the dark room, because you were sure you had tears in your eyes.
“I was scared that they’d hurt you. I thought you’d be safe away from me.”
You shook your head. “No, no. You can’t do this. I was just getting over you.”
Your pleas fell on deaf ears, as she tilted your face to her, resting her forehead on yours.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
“Tara, please.”
She cupped your cheeks softly. You could smell the alcohol in her breath when she leaned in. You couldn’t stop it—you’d be the biggest criminal if you did—when her lips tasted so sweet.
Tara sighed, and pressed her body flushed against yours.
You remembered the night you were kissing her, just like this, when the attack came. You just wanted to protect her, to keep her behind you in case the masked killer got to her, but the next moment there was just so much blood. You were told you almost flatlined twice. Tara thought that was enough and ended things.
“You told me that I was a liability,” you said quietly.
“You know I didn’t mean that. I just thought it’d be easier for you . . .” Tara shook her head. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You thought you were imagining her saying it, but she might as well have without the accountability of sobriety. Tara Carpenter apologizing, now that’s a sight to see.
In the midst of the haze, she had pulled you on top of her on the bed, still kissing you like her life depended it.
“Tara,” you pulled away, your chest heaving against her. Sitting back up, you let out a shaky breath.
She was watching you with those doe eyes, her fingers finding their way between yours.
“Will you tell me all of this when you’re sober?” You asked, but you knew what the answer was.
“Yeah,” you breathed out. That’s what I thought.
You kissed her forehead softly and left without another word.
Tara Carpenter, as much as she vehemently denies it, was still very much haunted by her past. As much as you loved her, you wouldn’t let yourself be dragged down that rabbit hole, not again.
It might have started raining. You couldn’t quite tell because the streets were already glossy from the blur of your tears.
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gyuswhore · 8 months
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the story of us ✦ j.w.w x reader
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the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now - the story of us
synopsis: So many walls that you can't break through; except you do.
wc: 2.1K
contains: best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, humour, happy ending, alcohol, arguments
masterlist
Support creators by reblogging!
[a/n]: im exhausted, im loopy, im hungry, but i really wanted to post this so here you go my babies I'm sorry i haven't fed you in so long (ty @toruro for making sure i wasn't talking out of my ass in this ily)
[edit; 11/04/24]: grammar and spelling.
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Jeon Wonwoo was nearing boiling point when he watched you push him away from yet another conversation.
He tried to understand, just like he always had. But it was proving near impossible at the five-month mark. 
There were clear signs you exhibited when you needed space, for whatever reason, Wonwoo knew you would tell him when you recovered. So he gave you what you needed.
And yet, when he finds himself pushed away from what looks like a casual conversation between your mutual friends, he finds his mild annoyance grow into something hotter. 
There’s a clench in his jaw as he tries not to squeeze the red cup in his hand with too much pressure, even when all the spiteful bit of his brain wants to do is to pour its pigmented contents all over your cream outfit. He manages to control himself, choosing to get up and exit the premises entirely. In complete silence, he refuses to acknowledge any yell of his name from passing acquaintances. 
Jeon Wonwoo refused to respond to any of your advances after that. 
Invitations to lunch were left on a jarring sent, the notification sitting in his log until he chooses to open it too late. His response was bare when you asked for help on some accounting concepts, pushing you over into Jihoon’s hands to fulfill your requirements. There’s a blatant shrug when you touch his shoulder, concerned, asking why his behaviour had become so distant in the past weeks; he responds with a mumble of, “just tired”.
The great divide happened a few days proceeding your birthday, one for which Wonwoo did nothing for but send you a quick message during the evening, never to see you throughout the extended day. 
“I can’t believe you’re putting this on me!” you all but yell, eyes wide and expression exasperated at the situation.
“Are you blind? Or just plain stupid? Because I didn’t tolerate months of your shit attitude to have you say it isn’t your fault.” Wonwoo is breathing heavily, hands motioning towards your entire figure with equal disbelief.
“What attitude?” you emphasize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I couldn’t be upfront with my best friend.”
“There’s a difference between being in a mood and blatant disrespect. I’m tired of having to put up with your mood swings like it’s my responsibility to coddle you. When was the last time you genuinely asked me how I was doing?”
“All the time!”
“Yeah, after you realize there's nobody else to whine and wail to!”
“Wonwoo, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Fine. If I’m clearly so unhinged, I’ll leave you to your liking.” 
The dwindled interactions, from messages to hellos, went from sparing to nonexistent — just like that. 
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You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect for you and Wonwoo to reconcile in the matter of a few days, if not a couple weeks.
But when the distance did nothing but grow larger, there was a settle of resentment in the pit of your stomach as you accepted the feud you were in. 
A text was sent from your phone a couple days after the incident.
[You]: can we talk?
But when you see no sign of the grey Delivered on the end, you knew he had blocked you. 
This was all nothing less than baffling to you for a number of reasons, starting with how you had never witnessed Wowoo acting this way. 
Wonwoo had done nothing but reprimand you the rare chance you suggested blocking an apprehensive individual, something about not showing that you cared. His voice seemed redundant after a certain decibel, the rarest chance to witness him yell at a failed video game or a frustrating professor. 
You know better, which is the only reason you’re ruling off paranormal possession. 
The claims against you came as an afterthought, not, however, rendering them any less strange. There’s a part of you that pondered if your shield of annoyance blocked you from seeing the truth in his words and in your behaviour, finding yourself overwhelmed with emotions when the thought crossed your mind, tears of frustration immediately blurring your vision. 
You did not understand, you could not. And when it all got too much, you allowed the hurt and confusion to turn into something more dangerous. You replaced it with anger, in the same place that once occupied a more delicate emotion. 
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There was an uproar in Wonwoo’s mind when he sees you walk into the lecture hall, unaware of your overlapping schedule in the new semester. He watches as your eyes pass over the moderately packed space, briefly glancing over where he sat; if you saw him, you did nothing to bring a reaction out of it. You take a seat a few rows up front, right in front of him where he’s able to see the back of your head for the next two hours — for the rest of the semester. 
He wonders if it’s too late to switch classes. 
“Wonwoo, I honestly think this is getting out of hand.” Jihoon munches on his cashews, leaning against bark of the tree they were both sat under. 
“Did you want me to keep tending to her bullshit then?” he grumbles.
“That’s not what I’m saying, you know it’s not.”
“That’s what it sounds like.” Wonwoo’s retort is brisk.
Jihoon is suddenly snapping his fingers in his face at the reply, a flinch accompanies Wonwoo’s already sour expression. 
“See! See how frustrating it is when somebody isn’t making sense?” 
“How does this—” 
“Wonwoo, did you try talking to her about how you felt, you know, without the screaming?” 
Jihoon watches as Wonwoo’s expression clears out, his eyebrows unfurrowing and the scowl fading. He doesn’t speak, choosing to let the realization kick in.
“No.” 
Jihoon sighs, taking another pause. “I’m not saying what she did wasn’t uncalled for, but you need to talk shit out before deciding you hate each other.”
“I don’t hate her.”
“Right, so can we wrap this up quickly and have you confess your undying love so we can all relax.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Heat crawls up Wonwoo’s cheeks.
“What? If you don’t hate her, it’s gotta be the opposite.”
Did Wonwoo like you? Yeah, he probably did. Did he ever let himself ponder upon it? No, because he was downright mortified of the mere thought. He finds himself a hypocrite to say it was to preserve your friendship, but he figures he’s fucked it up in a way that’s arguably worse. 
Regardless, Wonwoo walks away from that conversation with two things: a stark realization, and an even starker admittance. 
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Everything was going wrong. At least that’s what it felt like when you hear the clang of your water bottle hit the pavement, rolling off into the oncoming traffic as you sprint to grab it. You nearly cause a vehicle pile-up, swallowing a couple profanities from braking drivers. 
You’re stuffing the darn thing into your bag when you trip on a loose brick on the path, nearly landing on your face. The glare you send into the pavement costs you even more when a hard shoulder bumps into your side, sending you another couple steps back. You don’t bother to see who the perpetrator is, too preoccupied with your attempts to take in deeper breaths amid the blankness of your mind. 
There are no hiccups after that, what you might owe your more conscious mind to. Stomping up the library steps, you thank nothingness for the air conditioning that meets your hot face, slowing down as you take in the crowd. 
Scanning the room for an empty seat is harder than you’d anticipated, hoping the heat would keep students away from the building as you left to get work done. Approaching a table, you set down your bag with a huff, pulling the chair out to finally take the seat you’ve been needing for so long. 
The universe seems to have other plans. 
It’s almost funny the way you and Wonwoo make eye contact across the other table, the recognition sending a jolt through your stomach. 
You’ve never moved so fast, pushing the chair back in with a screech that earns you a few looks, grabbing the handles of your bag as you turn around to leave the building you’d just entered. 
No way you'd sit there. Not when he was around.
You're bounding down the steps when somebody passes you, murmuring something without slowing their stride.
“I’m leaving, you can go inside,” Wonwoo says, and the sound of his voice has you halting almost immediately.
Whipping your head around to search for the sound, you watch as he takes a turn at the end of the steps, slowly moving out of your vision. 
There’s a swirl of something in your chest, and you realise in that moment how much you missed hearing his voice. 
Chiding yourself, you blink back the water that wells up in your eyes, embarrassed at how quickly you were losing yourself.
But the damage was done. And you wanted to be reckless, regardless of how desperate it made you look. A split second decision is made in that moment, one that lightens the heavy feet that you’ve planted on the concrete. 
You’re back to bounding down the steps, but this time with aim. 
Taking the same turn you saw Wonwoo take, you break into a sprint as you see his figure move farther away. You keep running, continuing to bump into both objects and people, hurried "sorry"'s the only thing you choose to throw their way. 
“Wonwoo!” Your voice comes out stronger than you’d intended, the sharpness having him turn around in search, eyes landing on your accelerating figure. 
Both of you realize too late how fast you’re really going, the velocity taking you directly into his outstretched arms, hands grasping the sleeves of his shirt as you come to screeching stop directly into his chest. 
You don’t have the time nor the patience to be embarrassed, pulling your face back to look directly into Wonwoo’s bewildered eyes to huff out your next words.
“Why did you block me?” you ask, voice gruff and slightly out of breath.
Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, words refusing to come out. 
“Why are you so mad at me? Why are you being nice to me if you’re mad at me?” You don’t stop, the direct questions tumbling off your tongue in desperation. 
You search his face for an answer when his mouth fails, but all you find is the remnants of shock yet to ebb away. 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t important, I’m sorry for taking your presence for granted, I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for…for… I don’t know! I’m just really sorry and I don't know how else to make this right.”
“I’m sorry, too,” you hear him say and you feel the moisture return to your eyes. 
“Huh?”
“I should’ve…” he pauses, looking sheepish. “I should’ve talked to you before I, y’know, went off on you. I should’ve managed my feelings better, I’m sorry.” 
You're silent for a few tantalizing moments before you raise your fists, and pound down on his chest with everything you have. You do it again, and then again, and again—
“What?- Ow!” 
“When are you gonna stop bottling up your feelings for fucks sake, it’s landed you everywhere but good!” you say, nearly yelling.
Wonwoo whips his head around to see who’s listening, palm to mouth in attempts to silence you. 
“I’m sorry! I know! I’m working on it,” he rambles, trying to get you to quit struggling. “Jihoon and I talked, that’s why I realised I was being dumb.”
“Are you gonna unblock me now or do I need to pay Jihoon to sit down with you again?”
Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow. “You payed Jihoon to sit with me?”
“No, you idiot. But I should have because you can’t seem to figure out how to feel emotions.” 
Wonwoo can’t help himself when he breaks out into a grin, letting out a breathy chuckle that has you asking “What?”.
He pulls you in, heart to heart in an embrace, holding you tight to make up for the weeks of no contact. He breathes in your scent and feels as though he hasn’t in years. 
“I’m not gonna come running up to you the next time you decide you hate me,” you mumble into his shoulder, pouting slightly.
“I love you.” 
“I love you, too.” 
“No.” Wonwoo pulls away but keeps you in his arms, looking at you, “I love you. Like, the kind of stuff that makes you wanna live together forever. I love you.” 
It’s your turn to gape like a fish. 
“W-what?”
“You told me not to bottle up my feelings.” 
“Yeah, but—wow, um.” 
“Did I make another mistake?” 
No! You wanted to scream. But you don’t. You instead lift your hands up to come around his face, cradling it. And you kissed him. 
“I love you, too. Like the live together forever kind.” 
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Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 3)
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part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
☆ Milf Abby who’s literally the sweetest girlfriend ever. A little old school, but she’s still cute.
☆ Milf Abby who buys you weekly flowers, and who packs you lunch.
☆ Milf Abby who helps you plan lessons and sometimes comes and helps you teach.
☆ Milf Abby who gets baby fever if she sees you with kids.
☆ Milf Abby who said I love you after 3 days of dating.
☆ Milf Abby who has you as her lock screen.
☆ Milf Abby who plans family dates for you and her daughter.
☆ Milf Abby whose heart clenches when she sees how much Aubrey talks about you.
☆ Milf Abby who feels like a teenager because of you.
☆ Milf Abby that’s confused when you text her slang
Abby: ill come pick you up later?
you: yeah baby, I have to go now ttyl
Abby: what is that
☆ Milf Abby who finds pop culture drama interesting because she’s never really took interest in it till you appeared.
☆ Milf Abby who discovers so much and she feels old, but you never judge or make fun of her for it.
☆ Milf Abby who knows you’re the one.
☆ Milf Abby bought you an engagement ring after 2 weeks of dating. It was a simple ring because she knew you didn’t like big and extravagant things (unless it’s her dick-)
☆ Milf Abby who wants to propose to you at a family BBQ
☆ Milf Abby who takes you to meet her family after 4 months of dating, and she knew that this was the weekend she was going to propose.
☆ Milf Abby who held your hand the entire time, when you were being introduced.
☆ Milf Abby who tried staying by your side, but then you snatched away by Aubrey and her cousins.
☆ Milf Abby who stared at you with a smile as you were playing with the kids because you were just that pretty.
☆ Milf Abby who gets cocky when her family tells her she made the right choice.
“You got yourself a pretty girl abs”
“I know”
☆ Milf Abby who was having a good night till her ex-wife showed up.
“What are you doing here?” Abby asked through gritted teeth.
“it’s a family event, can I not be here?”
“you aren’t family”
“Abby she barley sees her mother:
“did you forget we have a child together?”
☆ Milf Abby who wanted to leave but you convinced her to stay for the sake of Aubrey.
“but she’s a bitch”
Aubrey grabbed onto your hand and she ran to her mother. You watched the women’s face drop at the sight of you
“Abby please”
☆ Milf Abby who wanted to slap her ex-wife every time she gave you a dirty look.
“mom this mommy’s girlfriend! isn’t she pretty?!”
The women stared at you with hatred in her eyes. She extended her hand out to grab your other hand in a tight handshake “I’m Kimberly” then you told her your name. The two of you fell into a awkward conversation, until she brought up Abby.
“how long have you been together?” she asked
“4 months” you replied with a smile.
“isn’t it too early to be meeting the family?” she asked, and you rolled your eyes before you responding: “isn’t it too bitchy to judge what I do in my relationship?”
Kimberly stared at you with wide eyes.
☆ Milf Abby who was listening to the whole interaction and she had the biggest smile on her face. That her girl.
☆ Milf Abby who was glued by your side the entire night, but you somehow got lost.
☆ Milf Abby who saw Kimberly walk up to her and she knew this wasn’t going to end well.
“What do you want?” Abby groaned.
“Look I need to say something”
“then talk”
The women took a deep breath before she started spewing nonsense: “I think she’s too young for you! She’s childish”
“that’s your opinion, you know nothing about her”
“well I don’t like her” Kimberly went on.
“that’s ok, but she’s my girlfriend so I don’t know why its bothering you”
“I don’t want her around Aubrey”
that was Abby’s final straw.
“Listen here, you’re barley present in our daughters life. She’s been a better mother to her that you, ever were! You know shit about Aubrey”
“I do” she tried arguing.
“if you did you would’ve know she doesn’t like the nutty chocolate you brought for her”
Kimberly went quiet. Abby continued on to talk.
“You are a shit person. You were a shitty wife, and a shitty mother. My daughter doesn’t deserve that. She needs someone like her. She’s my everything and I would fucking kill for her, so I suggest you stay out of my family’s life”
“but she’s still my daughter”
“she might be but I have full custody” Abby chuckled. “And besides not everyone was made to be a mother, especially you” Kimberly stood there quietly, and she left the party soon after.
☆ Milf Abby who was relieved that she was finally gone.
☆ Milf Abby whose family knew about the proposal and they were helping her plan it.
As the party continued to go on you stood at the table, helping Abby’s aunts with making salads. It was odd, everything became more and more quiet.
You felt arms wrap around you and you knew it was her.
“Hi” you giggled
“hi” she replied. You could practically hear her smile.
“You having fun baby?” Abby asked.
“yeah”
You noticed her sudden silence before you asked: “are you ok?”
Abby took a deep breath. She was nervous. You could tell.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking”
“about?”
“I want this”
“Salad?”
“no” she chuckled. 
“A life with you”
Your heartrate increased.
“I want us to grow old together and throw family BBQ’s. I want us to have a big house, so Aubrey can bring her kids over one day. I want to spend forever waking up next to you, and I want to grow our family….”
During her speech you didn’t notice that she let go of you. You were too busy processing her words at that moment.
“Baby look at me” Abby spoke. You slowly turned around to see Abby’s family surrounding the two of you and her on her one knee, with a delicate ring in her hand.
“Will you marry me?” She asked unsure.
You looked at her with wide eyes, no words were coming out out.
“Say yes! please I can’t wait any longer” Aubrey yelled from the sidelines. You saw Abby chuckle.
You fell down onto your knees before you grabbed her face for a kiss.
“I guess that’s a yes” Abby chuckled when she pulled away.
“fuck yes”
She slipped the ring onto your finger before she got up and yelled “she said yes!” The crowd erupted in screams and cries.
☆ Milf Abby who kissed you passionately as tears flowed from both your eyes.
This was true love.
my pookie: (the tag list): @elliens4
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threestarsinline · 1 month
Text
Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part II)
Jason Todd x reader one-shot
Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.
Word Count: 15.5K (total of 29.2K)
Category: More fluff for you all (yes, more jsjs), (plus slight angst related to mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers and typical Gotham villain stuff)
Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)
Author’s note: Well, here you go babes, the second (and final) part to what once was just a one-shot but that became so long that I had to split it up (despite how much it broke my heart to do so). Hope you enjoy it!
<Part I
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After that night at the dinner (that you didn’t ever want to end, though of course, sadly, it had to), everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.
Except that now, while you scanned the children’s books, as you knew what they were for now, you asked how the kids were doing.
Except that now, a lot of times when he came in the afternoons, Jason stayed in the bookshop with you until you closed, keeping you company.
Except that now, sometimes Jason brought food with him and had lunch with you.
Except that now, you texted each other practically everyday, carrying on conversations from the bookshop and talking about everything.
Except that now, your heart, instead of giving little jumps, it run whole laps every time you saw him.
And right now, you’re buzzing with nerves.
Because you don’t know where the line stands anymore, having become blurrier and blurrier with each smile, every longing look and every soft touch on his arm or the small of your back when you pass each other a lot closer than what is necessary.
And now you’re bouncing behind the counter, wondering if what you are about to do today is too much.
When that white streak that you love so much makes its way through the door, you can hardly wait to show him what you’ve found. Jason, like always, greets you with a smile and goes directly to the counter, not bothering with excuses anymore.
“There you are!” You exclaim, barely containing your excitement.
“Hi to you too.” He chuckles at your warm welcome as he finishes approaching the counter.
“I found it.” You say with a grin. Surprise makes its way across Jason’s features, immediately knowing what you were talking about.
“You did?” He asks in disbelief. You nod proudly and from under the counter, you slip out the third and last installment of a book series about the adventures of Daisy the giraffe. In the store you only had the first and the second one and the kids loved them. They had read both several times but were unable to see how the story ended since the books were quite old and very hard to find.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” Jason continues as he takes the book from your hands that are extending it to him. “You’re amazing, Y/N.” He looks back up at you with shining eyes. “How did you do it?” You shrug your shoulders.
“I just tracked it down.” You answer. The truth was that it had taken a lot of time and effort to find it but the kids’ joy and how happy you felt right now made it all worth it.
“You did a lot more than that, believe me. The kids are going to love it.” Jason says, glancing back at the book and then at you once again, his eyes full of admiration. “Thank you.” He adds almost breathlessly.
You nod in acknowledgement with a bright smile.
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Jason had faced a lot of impossible situations during his life. Hardships that proved difficult to endure. From his days in the streets, to his Robin training and to his patrols as Red Hood.
But right now Jason feared that he may have found his greatest enemy. A problem hard to solve. A feat that will not be easy to achieve.
These damn braids.
Jason’s eyebrows are furrowed and he clenches his jaw in concentration. Despite having asked for help and Cass and Steph having taught him, he still was having trouble french braiding Lily’s hair.
He was in the area and decided to check on the kids, even though they didn't have a reading scheduled. After greeting the few that were there, Lily grabbed his hand and monopolized him.
She had asked him a few times to do her hair and he had tried but without much knowledge it had proved to be a disaster. At least now, even though it still felt a bit like an uphill climb, it seemed that his new skills were getting him somewhere.
They were sitting on some crates on the floor, Lily in front of him playing with her teddy and telling him his latest adventures as Batbear, making him chuckle at her great imagination.
He was working on the second braid when suddenly Lily fell into silence, deep in thought. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she finally spoke up.
“Do you like Y/N?” Lily asked, with the blunt curiosity characteristic of children her age.
Jason’s hands freeze on her blonde hair.
“Why do you ask?” Jason asks back nervously, afraid to give a clear response, as if after hearing it, Lily would run over to wherever you were to tell you. But she just shrugs her shoulders, lifting Batbear in her arms and examining his button-like eyes.
“She’s nice and funny.”
“Yeah, she is.” He coincides while slowly continuing to work on the braid.
“I like her. The other day she brought us all cookies from a bakery. They were delicious.” Lily continues, her voice acquiring a dreamy tone at the delightful memory.
Jason’s hands freeze once again. He had no idea you had done that. You hadn’t mentioned it to him. You had gone out of your way to buy treats for the kids and come here on your own on a non reading day.
Jason stands still on his seat, his gaze lost and thoughts clouded with you. He didn’t think that he could admire you more than what he already did, yet here he was, even more entranced by your kind nature.
“So you like her then?” Lily insists. She says it more in an innocent way rather than in the romantic sense, like when you meet a friend of a friend and they asked you if you liked hanging out with them. Just as Lily finishes her question, he ties up her braid and Lily turns her head, feeling him finish his work.
She catches sight of her reflection on a dirty window and lets out a delightful squeal that makes Jason jump in surprise. In an instant, the little girl is on her feet and admiring her hair from side to side, Batbear still in her grip.
Jason grimaces when he sees how the top of one of the braids is already starting to loosen and worries about what Lily will say. He still clearly needs more practice. But then-
“I love it!” Lily screams and Jason grins at her happiness. Ha, success. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She says in quick succession in a way in which the words jumble together and turns to give him a bone crushing hug, surprising for how little she is, and a sounding kiss on his cheek.
Then Lily sets off running, probably to show her friends her new hair, laughing all the way, completely forgetting about her earlier question. Jason can’t help but laugh under his breath too. He loves those kids.
He stands up and shakes his hands over his jeans to get rid of any possible dirt from the crate.
“Yeah, I like her very much.” Jason whispers, answering Lily’s question. His thoughts, as they usually tended to do, drifting back to you.
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“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You ask him another day when he enters the bookshop with a black eye. He opens his mouth to answer but you interrupt him. “Let me guess, boxing again?” You say with eyebrows raised in a playful manner so that he doesn’t need to worry about a fake excuse. But he chuckles and shakes his head.
“Not this time, no.”
“No? Impossible.”
“Okay so, turns out that Damian, for whatever reason that I still cannot comprehend, threw his phone at Tim. But Tim ducked and guess who was passing behind him in that exact moment just peacefully enjoying his bowl of cereal?”
“No way.” You say breathlessly, a smile already pulling at your lips and a laugh making its way up your throat.
He nods and sees you put a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your laughter. The sight makes him smile, despite the fact that the movement pulls at the swelling of his cheek under his eye, making him wince slightly at the pain.
“Sorry.” You say, failing miserably in containing your laughter.
“It’s okay, go ahead. It is funny.”
You then finally burst out laughing and Jason feels his heart swell, the sound having become his favorite in the whole world, like listening to his favorite song. And he can’t help but join in your laughter too.
“Though I did drop my precious bowl of cereal.” He adds with an exaggerated pout and you laugh even more, making him feel a radiating warmth that not even the sun could equal to.
“Oh, poor Jason.” You say.
As your laughters finally slowly die down, you round the counter and lift your hands to hold the sides of his face, turning him to see the eye better in the light.
“Are you okay though?” You ask in a low voice, serious now, almost like a whisper.
And with your hands holding him, Jason thinks that he will always be okay, no matter if he's drowning or bleeding to death.
“Yeah.” He whispers back.
Were you this close just a second before? He can clearly see how the lights of the bookshop reflect in your eyes now.
“Did you put something over it?” He nods. You tilt your head, not sure to believe him with how he hadn’t really treated the wounds on his knuckles that one time.
“Some ice.” You manage to coax out of him and you shake your head and click your tongue in slight disappointment. 
“Not enough.” You say, and just like that one time, with the bookshop empty except for you two, you guide him into the break room by his hand, sit him down and bring the first aid kit. You take an ointment from it and stand in front of him. You look down at him, asking for permission with your eyes and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.
One of your hands takes hold of his face to tilt him to the light and the tips of your fingers on the other start applying the ointment softly to help with the swelling.
Jason’s hands twitch to place themselves on your hips to bring you even closer but he grabs his own knees instead. He doesn’t have the right to do something like that. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend.
No matter how much he might want to.
So he contents himself with looking into your eyes that are concentrated on his wound.
He can feel the warmth of your body seeping into his with how close you are and he can’t help but close his eyes to savor it even further. 
He has never felt safer.
The silence of the intimate moment is deafening in the best of ways. He would gladly stay like this forever.
But then, just like a crack of thunder, cold surrounds him once again as you whisper that you’re done and retract your hands from him. You wash your hands in the faucet of the kitchen part of the break room and Jason follows your every movement hypnotized.
“Better?” You say as you return and sit in front of him.
With you? Always.
“Yeah.” He breathes out and he isn’t lying. He can already feel the swelling going down. “Thank you.” 
“It’s nothing.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.
It’s like you don’t see how much you do for him, and not just for tending his wounds. Just everything in general. Your laugh. Your long conversations. And it kills him. It kills him that you may not know just how much he cares about you.
And it kills him even more that he doesn’t have the courage to tell you.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” You say and quickly get up to grab a heavy looking bag from the corner before coming back. “I went to my parents’ last weekend and I got these books that I thought the kids might like.” You start as you take the contents of the bag out and put them on the table for him to see.
He notices how you worry your lip and how your shoulders tense and he wonders why you’re suddenly like that. He then looks towards the several books displayed on the table in front of you two.
“Most of them are bedtime stories. My mom used to read them to me.” You start and then your small posture and uncertain tone clicks. You’re shy about this. Almost ashamed that he might think that this is something ridiculous.
As if he could think anything negative about you.
“They’re not much but I loved them when I was little.” You continue and as you tell him more about them, he can see with how much fondness you remember them and how excited you are to talk about them. The insecurity seems to leave your whole body as you get lost in your explanation of the books. 
Two of them are quite thick and you tell him that they have several different stories, from a prince and a princess that could only meet at sunrise or sunset since one of them could only be in the light of the moon and the other in the light of the sun. And that if they were exposed to the other light, due to a spell, they would die; to a story about a mother reading to his son.
Another couple of them follow the adventures of a mole at his house and at the beach and the books include a small mole cut-out that you move across the pages to make him follow the story. Another one is about a boy and his dog that go on a great adventure thanks to a magical blue balloon.
As he listens intently, he marvels at you. You really were the most thoughtful, kind and beautiful person that he had ever met and he couldn’t get enough of it.
He has to resist the urge to close the space between you and kiss you right there and then. But he decides against it. He liked how everything was going with you and he didn’t want to ruin it by suddenly rushing and risking everything.
Aside from the fact that you still didn’t know about a part of his life that he’s sure would make you push him away and send you running. Even though every time that he thinks about it, he’s considering telling you more and more, wanting to be completely sincere and honest with you, knowing how much you valued that.
“Sorry, that was a lot. This probably was a bad idea.” You say after you finish explaining all the books. You’re about to start picking them up to put them back in the bag when you feel his hand enclosing over one of your own, softly stopping you.
Your breath catches in your throat.
“No. These are great, Y/N. I love them and I’m sure that the kids will too. Thank you for sharing them.” He says looking into your eyes. You were sharing with him and the kids a very personal part of you that you held very close to your heart. And he wanted you to know how much he appreciated it.
He also gives your hand a small squeeze to show you how much he means his words and to encourage you. After a moment, you smile and nod.
“Tell me more.” He says.
At his genuine petition, you can’t do anything but carry on, your radiant smile matching his. “Okay.”
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It had been a long time since you had played any of these types of games. But you really do not remember being so bad at it.
After the reading that day, the kids had suggested (or rather insisted) on playing hide and seek.
So here you were, running around the playground trying to find a good place to hide all while questioning your life choices.
Had you really been this bad at hide and seek as a kid? Then again, it is quite easier when you’re much smaller and you can fit almost anywhere. Try doing that as an adult.
You turn a corner of the nearby buildings, entering into a small passage between the back of it and a wall separating the playground zone from the rest of the block. You know that Lily has had to have finished counting already. You don’t have much time left.
In the passage there are some piled up crates leaning against the wall. You consider hiding behind them though you know that it’s not the best hiding place. However, you’re already here and you can’t risk going back into the open space of the playground if you don’t want to get caught.
Just as you start moving towards them a voice whispers your name.
You turn and find that the building has a small space that cuts into it with a back door. Due to the afternoon light, the space is covered in shadows and leaning against the wall you find Jason, hiding. 
You can’t believe that you missed him with his impressive build.
But the place seems to work as a great hiding place, almost in plain sight yet easy to miss. So, when Jason extends a hand inviting you into it, you don’t think twice before taking it.
Next thing you know, your back rests in one of the walls carved into the building that lead to the door and Jason is positioned in front of you in a way that, even if Lily were to pass by and notice you, she would only see him. At least at first.
Jason leans his head out of the space for a second to check if anyone is coming and then he comes back in front of you.
And then your breathing hitches in your throat when you realize just how close you are, even though there is plenty of space in the small opening of the building for you two to stand next to each other without problem. Yet both of you remain in your current position, not daring (nor wanting) to move a muscle.
Suddenly all your nerves are alive and buzzing, your senses heightened and all you can see, hear and feel, is him.
You're hyper aware of everywhere that he’s touching you.
His left hand on your waist.
His right arm at your side, brushing up against yours, shielding you from view.
Your chests almost touching each other.
Your hands on his shoulders, even though you have no idea how they ended up there. The urge to bring him even closer to you, practically irresistible.
You look up to find that his green gaze is already on you. Up this close you notice that there is a slight shade of aquamarine blue in them.
You feel lightheaded and dizzy but in the best of ways. It’s like you’re drunk, even though you have never actually drunk enough to feel like this.
You realize then that you’re drunk on him. You want to drown in him.
Then the scent of his cologne reaches you and you know that you’re intoxicated with this man in front of you.
And the best part is that he seems just as intoxicated with you.
You don’t know how you two get even closer but then his nose is brushing up against yours, your breaths mixing together.
He’s leaning a bit over you so maybe you should feel a bit crowded but you don’t.
You feel safe.
The safest that you have ever been. And the thing is that it doesn't even surprise you. Everything feels easy and safe and warm with him.
Like nothing could ever happen to you with him by your side.
And you’re absolutely addicted to the feeling.
Jason is breathless, as if he has just run a marathon. His breathing as heavy as yours.
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest with how fast it’s going, thrill and anticipation pumping through your veins instead of blood.
Your gaze drops and you suck in a breath when he wets his lips.
Your own tongue darts out to mimic his movement on your own, when you realize that they’re already wet and that he was the one mirroring your previous action.
Your eyes go back up to his and notice that his pupils are dilated. You can’t help but think that yours look probably the same.
It seems like he’s asking a question with that mesmerizing gaze of his and your throat feels dry, as if you haven’t been able to drink water in days and the only person that can alleviate it is Jason Todd.
His gaze flits to your lips once again and returns to your eyes just as fast and they seem to be pleading you.
You can feel yourself nodding almost imperceptibly.
You’re not sure you have wanted anything more in your life. Your stomach flips.
You close your eyes, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.
And then-
“Got you!” Lily’s voice rings out, like shattering glass, breaking the spell and bursting the perfect bubble that you two were in, before your lips are able to make any real contact.
And just like that, you deflate like an old balloon forgotten by a kid in a fair.
You have never been more frustrated in your entire life.
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain your senses, letting your pounding heart beat out the drug that the proximity to Jason Todd is, in order to come back to reality.
When you finally open your eyes, Jason looks just as frustrated and disappointed as you.
Your faces part, putting distance once again between them though your hands remain on his shoulders and his remain on your waist. Part of yourselves still refusing to let go of what had been about to happen, both of your breathings still heavy and deep.
“Come on, it’s your turn now!” Lily exclaims impatiently. She’s too excited about being able to hide now to really notice what was going on between you two.
“We-” Jason stops at how hoarse his voice is and clears his throat. “We’ll be right there.” He finally continues, though his gaze is still fixed on you.
“Great!” Lily chirps and she leaves the way she came, Batbear like always, tight in her grip.
You watch her go and when you look back up at Jason both of you have shy and embarrassed smiles. Sad for the moment that has left and unsure of how to proceed now.
You both suppose that keeping things how they are is the best course of action so very slowly and very reluctantly your hands leave each other. Not sure what to do with them now, since they still feel like magnets being pulled towards each other, Jason runs his hands through his hair and you fix your already perfectly placed clothes.
But as you two make your way towards the center of the playground, you both are hopeful that the moment will come again.
The road might have a few bumps on the way but it still goes on.
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Jason didn’t know how it had gotten so late. He had meant to stop by the bookshop earlier and hopefully, after you closed, go grab dinner with you, as you two sometimes did now. But he had got caught up with patrol stuff with Bruce and now he would be lucky if he managed to catch you before you left.
Thankfully, he’s able to reach the bookshop twenty minutes before you close. But when he enters, you are nowhere to be seen. 
Rose and Jimmy are behind the counter, chattering between them and just like every time that he went into the bookshop and you weren’t there, he felt his whole body deflate. The idea of seeing you always being his driving force.
But just like that other time when he entered knowing that you worked that day but Rose had greeted him, worry begins to settle in him. Had something happened that had made you change your shift? Were you sick?
“Hello, Jason!” Jimmy says when he and Rose notice him.
“Good evening, dear.” Greets Rose.
“Hello. Sorry, didn’t mean to bother, I know you’re about to close.”
“It’s okay, you’re always welcomed.” Jimmy answers.
“It’ll be quick. I just wanted to see if Y/N was here, I-”
“Does this look right, Rose? I feel like-” You say, emerging from the bathroom but then you freeze in your step when you spot him. “Oh, hi, Jason.”
But Jason is unable to answer, in fact, he’s pretty sure that he has forgotten how to breathe because he’s stunned looking at you.
You’re wearing a very nice dress that you must have changed into in the bathroom, and it’s clear that you’ve dressed up for something.
You look beautiful.
You always do but Jason has never seen you so formal and it stirs up something in him. For a second, he can imagine that he’s come to pick you up for a date.
But the joy of seeing you doesn’t last long as he feels his throat dry and he swears that he can feel sweat begin to form at the back of his neck and run down his back. It takes him a second to understand those symptoms and the unsettling feeling in his stomach.
Dread. Panic.
Because what if you actually do have a date?
Had he waited too long? Neither of you were any experts on relationships but it really felt like you two were working towards something. But what if it was too late now? What if he had let time drag on too much and now he was forever stuck in some kind of friend stage? Just like when he didn’t tell you about why he checked out so many children’s books and then it had passed so much time that it became awkward for him to do so.
His mind is in a spiral now, racing with thoughts. In one of your many conversations and hangouts after the very first reading with the kids and the diner, you both had mentioned that neither of you were seeing anybody. It was an off comment, something that you tell a friend without thinking too much about the implications of it.
But the idea hung in the air. The idea that the persons that you two were seeing were each other.
But still, neither of you had said that out loud.
And the thing was that you two weren’t just friends. Or at least that’s what Jason felt like and he thought that you probably thought the same. You two had a connection there and you were heading towards being something else. Slowly but steadily and surely, you were building something.
Right?
Suddenly, he finds himself revisiting every interaction that the two of you have ever had. Every longing look, every soft touch and that oh so wonderful moment while playing hide and seek where you two had almost kissed.
He couldn’t have possibly imagined all of that on his own, could he?
If he thought that the memory of holding your hand while he helped you down the ladder that one time had been haunting, it was nothing compared to that moment.
That moment that had plagued his mind every damn day since.
Everything about it, how you had looked at him, the smell of your hair, your hands on his shoulders, your slightly parted lips, added to everything about you from the very first time he met you, like your smile or the soft tone of your voice, creeping onto his skin and taking a resident place there. Like ivy, carving marks into him, down his arms and up his back, clasping and biting into him, leaving him red and scarred forever.
The difference of those imprints with the scars that he had gained over the years of crime-fighting and suffering was that they didn’t hurt nor weighed him down. Instead, they lifted him up, invigorated him and softly caressed his skin, like your hands taking care of his wounds, reassuring him that everything would be okay. That with you, everything will always be okay. They showed how much someone cared about him and valued him.
The difference being that he would wear your marks proudly. 
And Jason finally decides that he doesn’t want to walk on the tightrope anymore. He wants to let go and fall into the void, take a leap of faith and come clean to you. Tell you that he’s in love with you and that he wants to be yours.
He can only hope that you may lay a safety net beneath him to fall into.
And if he’s not that lucky, he would have another invisible scar added to him, from both crashing into the ground and from having at least tried. And even though that one would hurt, more deeply and a lot longer than any physical one that he may have, you would have given it to him, and he would welcome anything that came from you with open arms.
He doesn’t know how he’s going to do all of that but what he does know is that before anything, he wants to be honest with you. Tell you about being Red Hood. You deserve to know what you’re going to get into (if you even decide that you want to), before you two delve into something deeper.
The only thing is that you two are already there. Too far gone for each other, even though Jason doesn’t know that you are. The one thing that he is certain about is that when he tells you, it will change the foundations of the road that you have been building together.
What Jason isn’t so sure of is if it will destroy them, or make them even stronger.
But something that he does know, is that right now is not the moment for any of that.
So, for the time being, he settles with greeting you back and eventually saying:
“You look… You look great.” Even though that is an understatement.
You smile and shyly look down, your fingers playing with the skirt of your dress.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He says, and while you two are busy looking at each other, you both miss Rose and Jimmy’s knowing looks and smiles. And before he can help it, he’s opening his mouth again. “So, uhm, do you have a date or something?” He tries to say nonchalantly, not wanting to sound too obtrusive, but the doubt killing him.
Your eyes widen and you chuckle, shaking your head.
“What? God no, just fancy family dinner. It’s my parents' anniversary. Since they’re visiting they decided to celebrate together.” You explain, and Jason can feel a wash of relief going over him, his racing heart calming down.
He hasn’t lost his chance.
“Oh, that’s nice. Congrats.”
You nod and grab your things, getting ready to leave before turning to Jimmy and Rose.
“Thanks again for letting me go early.”
“Of course, dear. And don’t worry about the dress, it looks perfect. You look lovely.”
“No problem, sweetie.” Jimmy adds before complimenting you too.
You kiss the couple’s cheeks in thanks before bidding them goodbye, Jason copying your words before opening the door for you.
As you two leave, you see Jimmy whisper something into Rose’s ear while putting an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She chuckles and she kisses his cheek and Jimmy kisses her forehead in return.
Jason smiles at the fond interaction.
“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” You say, still looking at the couple.
“They are.” Jason says, already looking at you. You’re lovely too. “You’re going to the restaurant with your family now?”
“Yeah, I didn’t have enough time to spare after the shift to go back home so I had to change in the bookshop. My parents lend me their car in order to make it.”
Jason nods, trying not to look too disappointed at the fact that he can’t even offer to drive you there, and a comfortable silence settles between you, neither of you wanting to part ways yet.
But you have to go if you don’t want to be late so you sigh before speaking once again.
“I have to go.”
“Yeah.” Jason says, hands in his pockets. “See you soon then.”
“Bye.” You say and you haven’t taken two steps before Jason calls your name. You turn.
“You look very beautiful.” He can’t help but compliment you again.
You feel your whole face heat up.
“Thanks.”
You think about him the whole way to the restaurant but then again, when aren’t you not thinking about Jason Todd?
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Jason has never been more scared in his life. Well, maybe he had, when he was in that damned warehouse. And then later, when he woke up after that without being able to recall who he was or where he was.
But this other type of fear... It's almost paralyzing, threathening to swallow him whole.
He runs as fast as he can, taking long strides, his rugged breathing making him have tunnel vision and only allowing him to focus on one thing.
You.
He hadn’t liked how close the situation had been to the bookshop from the very first moment that they had received the alert. Worry tight in his throat since he had always hoped not to ever have this kind of situation this close to you.
The bookshop’s neighborhood had always been one of the safest in Gotham, there were certain minor crimes, yes, which part of the city didn’t have them? But none of the rogues had ever attacked there.
You had once joked that you thought that the reason for it might be that some of the villains had family living there. You once even said that you could have sworn to have seen the Penguin accompanying an old lady that might have been his mother crossing the street.
Yet still, now an ACE Chemicals truck had been assaulted by Scarecrow and his henchmen. The truck wasn’t even supposed to be in the neighborhood in the first place, but the company and the police had received some information that an attack was being planned and they had decided to detour it.
And now you were in danger.
Jason keeps running with his hands clenched into fists that were turning tighter and tighter by the second.
He can feel sweat gathering on his forehead and he can almost hear a ticking clock hanging over his head as he puts some distance between him and the sickeningly looking mist of muddy green gas that had exploded in the truck.
The very same gas that was quickly spreading along the streets and that would reach the bookshop in a matter of minutes.
The first ones to arrive at the scene had been him and Tim, trying to control the situation until backup could arrive.
Scarecrow’s men were taking over the truck and before leaping into action, Jason threw Tim a look that even with the helmet on, Tim could perfectly understand.
If anything starts going sideways, I’m out of here. Going to her.
Going to you.
Tim was also aware of the fact of how close it all was to the bookshop and he just nodded, knowing how much you mattered to Jason.
They had been able to control the situation more or less as more and more police cars gathered around the truck. But then Scarecrow had finally made his appearance and everything derailed. At first, it seemed like they just wanted to steal from the truck but then something happened and the truck exploded.
Between the chemicals from inside the truck and whatever other things the villain and his gang always brought with them, the gas set off along with the explosion.
Scarecrow and his men scurried off immediately after, giving the feeling that that had certainly not been their desired outcome.
But the gas started spreading and they had no idea what chemicals were inside the truck or what the effects of it could be, but Jason wasn’t going to risk it.
And so, he took a quick glance at Tim, who already had his gas mask on, helping people on the street, and returning his gaze, Tim just nodded.
Go. We handle this here.
And with that, Jason set off.
The bookshop wasn’t actually that far away, just a few blocks, but Jason feels like he’s doing the longest run of his life and that time itself is slowing him down. He has also tried calling you but the line was already overloaded with all the emergency calls.
As he runs, he can hear through his intercom Tim and Steph shouting instructions to everyone nearby and Barbara guiding Bruce to track down Scarecrow.
His heart’s racing and when he finally catches sight of the bookshop, he feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.
The sound of the door slamming open startles you in your place behind the counter. You turn your head to tell the person that had entered to mind their manners when you are met with a red stare that you had only seen in blurry pictures on the news and heard rumors about.
You take in a sharp breath as Red Hood closes the door and approaches you in quick strides. You freeze in your place, not because you are scared of him but because of the surprise of it. Especially when you look him over and your gaze can’t tear away from the brown leather jacket that felt so familiar to you.
Red Hood grabs your wrist, bringing you with him hurriedly into the break room. And though his grip is strong, you’re surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt at all. You can hear him talking and you know that his presence here can’t mean anything good, though not for you of course, you know that Red Hood wouldn’t hurt you, he didn’t hurt innocent people, but something must have happened.
However, you can’t seem to register any of his words, it’s like he’s saying something but you’re underwater, his words sounding muffled and jammed together.
Because for some strange reason you’re still fixated on his jacket.
He sets you down on the floor next to the sofa in the break room and crouches down in front of you. And then he does something that makes your brows furrow in confusion.
He calls you by your name.
How does he even know your name?
You want to ask him but everything feels so confusing right now, like a tornado spinning around you. You only manage to utter a weak “What…?”, before you can’t help it and your hands, with a life of their own, run over his arms, feeling the fabric of the jacket until they reach the lapels and grip them.
Your heart was already racing and your breathing labored from the whole situation but it seemed like they hadn’t reached their limit yet. Though you feel like they are surely about to do so. You can feel your heart go even faster as your mind begins spiraling with thoughts and you suck in a breath when the realization hits you.
Because this… This piece of clothing so characteristic of the vigilante in front of you, you had spent an awful lot of time staring and gawking over the man that wore it several times in your bookshop.
Because this… This is the very same fabric that your hands had touched while you had been inches away from kissing that very same man in an alley while you were playing hide and seek.
Because now that you were able to see it up close, you instantly recognize it.
How could you not? When you had spent so much time with its owner, laughing while you two ate lunch; admiring him when he found an interesting book on the bookshelves; feeling understood when you shared your worries with him; taking the opportunity to touch his arm anytime that you could, covered in this very same jacket, one of the few of this type that he owned; hoping that if you were to tell him how you feel, he would feel the same way; and wishing that you could kiss him without having to worry about the consequences?
Because this jacket belongs to the man that you’re in love with.
Because this jacket… This jacket belongs to Jason Todd.
And then everything clicks, how he works nights, the wounds on his knuckles, his occasional and strange run offs. Suddenly it all feels so blatantly obvious that you wonder how you didn’t see it before.
You know in your gut what it means but your brain is still catching up with everything going on around you to fully make sense of what your heart already knows.
For a quick second, the thought that maybe he shouldn’t wear the same jacket while patrolling and during his day to day, makes you want to start laughing. Though it’s true that unless you saw it more than once, several times and very close, no one would realize that they were the same jacket. But the reality of the situation around you helps you to rein in the inappropriate laugh.
And then your name being called again finally breaks you out of your thoughts, and the only thing that you can focus on is him.
Jason’s gripping your shoulders now, willing you to focus on him and needing to have some kind of contact with you to make sure that you’re okay. He moves frantically, his eyes quickly checking the front door of the bookshop through one of the break room’s windows that look into the main part of the shop, already seeing the mist of gas slipping under it, trying to calculate how much time he has left.
He’s been asking you if you’re okay and trying to explain what has happened but the sentences come out stumbled, his brain going faster than what his mouth can follow.
In his haste he doesn’t even register the change in the look of your eyes at your realization.
He knows what he has to do but he’s afraid of what it will entail. He wanted to sit down with you, tell you about being Red Hood and explain everything to you. He wanted to be hopeful that you may understand but now he doesn’t have the chance to let you know how he would have wanted to.
It feels like someone has pushed him from the tightrope beneath him, directly cutting it, or rather, that it has snapped over his own weight, not able to hold him and his secrets anymore, and now he’s falling and he can’t do anything about it.
And if you would have ever laid a net beneath him, he’s sure that you would cut a hole open in it now.
He’s about to break everything that you two have been working towards, a shattering earthquake destroying what once was a strong and beautiful road.
But it’s the only way to keep you safe.
And he would cut the rope sustaining him himself and willingly fall into the abyss if he had to to make sure that you’re safe. That’s the only thing that matters to him right now.
And that’s exactly what he does.
You watch perplexed as Red Hood takes the helmet off and you’re met with the sharp features and white streak that you love so much.
It really is him.
He’s Red Hood.
Jason is Red Hood.
Jason, who always seemed to be checking out children’s books, wearing leather jackets and making you smile like no one has ever done before.
Your Jason.
Out of the corner of your eye you see a weird mist start to seep through under the door to the break room that Red Hood- no, Jason, had closed after you two entered.
“Jason?” You whisper. He lifts his head up from where he’s been fidgeting with the helmet since he took it off to meet your gaze, and the broken look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it has been stabbed. “What’s going on?” He follows your line of sight and his eyes grow with worry.
“Scarecrow.” He mutters while turning back to the helmet, he pushes a few hidden buttons in it and you’re surprised to see how its panels shift, changing its shape slightly but still having a head-like form.
And then Jason turns to you, his hands lifting with the helmet towards your head.
Your face contorts with horror when you realize what he wants to do.
You immediately grab his forearms, pushing them down and therefore, the helmet too.
“What are you doing?” You say.
“I have to protect you. And we don’t know what the gas does yet so I’m not taking any risks.” He pushes the helmet towards your head once again but you repeat your previous action, preventing him from doing so.
“And you? What about you?” You ask desperately, the gas coming closer and closer towards you both.
Jason’s lips pull into a sad smile. “I’ll be fine.” He whispers. It’s like he has already resigned himself to something. You shake your head.
“No. I’m not taking it.”
“I have a spare small mask, don’t worry.”
You’re still so in shock from everything that you don’t realize that he’s lying, yet in the pit of your stomach you can already feel a pool of dread forming.
“But-” You start but he cuts you off.
“Y/N, listen to me. We don’t have much time. Do you trust me?”
Even with everything that has just happened, you don’t hesitate.
“Always.”
Jason nods and puts the red helmet over your head, the shifted panels allowing it to fit your head perfectly. Jason sighs with relief and looks at you fondly, his hands still on either side of your head.
Your hands come up to cover his own and he nods reassuringly. “You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.
Everything is going to be okay.
But then Jason starts coughing.
The gas has already reached you both and gathers at your ankles.
Your eyes widen and you reach for him as his hands let go of your head to support himself when he begins lulling to one side. “Jason!” You shout.
You can see his eyes losing focus, starting to get dizzy. While your breathing keeps coming in deep and clean thanks to the regulator built in the helmet, Jason seems to be gasping for air, like he isn’t getting enough oxygen or like his lungs are refusing what’s going in them.
And you finally realize that there never was a spare mask.
How could you have been so foolish?
You try to take the helmet off to give it back to him but it’s like it’s closed off. You press the buttons that you find on the underside at the back but nothing happens. You try everything but it just won’t come off.
Nothing.
You can’t take it off.
He must have locked it somehow, almost as if he knew what you would try to do.
You can’t protect him.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” A cough. “ I swear I wanted to tell you.” Another one. “ I was going to.” He says between short breaths before finally collapsing onto the floor.
You grab him before his head hits the ground and you hush him gently.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” Now it’s you the one holding the sides of his face softly.
One of his hands comes up to hold one of your own, and you can’t stand the look of utter adoration and affection with which he gazes at you.
Because you can’t help him.
And his look is as if he would be content to go this way, knowing that at least you’re safe.
And your heart breaks all over again.
The room is covered in gas now and it’s not until your vision becomes slightly blurry that you register the tears welling up in your eyes.
You cry for help but there’s nothing that can be done now. You also try calling 911, not caring what will happen if someone sees that he’s Red Hood. You just need him to be safe. But the line doesn't work. Jason begins to close his eyes.
“Hey, hey, no.” You urge. “Stay with me, stay with me.” Jason opens his eyes once more, fighting to stay awake, but you can see in them how he’s almost gone, his consciousness slipping away from him.
“Please.” You whisper, fighting the tears.
And then his hand holding yours falls limp.
And with it, your heart does too.
You shake him, call him, scream at him to wake up but it’s no use. Tears run down your cheeks now, raked sobs breaking though your chest.
You even try to take off the helmet again but of course, nothing happens.
You feel for his heartbeat, it takes you an agonizing second to feel it but it's there.
Weak and slow, barely perceptible, but it’s there.
Although you fear that probably not for much longer.
Fear and dread run through you, you don’t know how to fix this. You don’t want to let him go but he’s being pulled away from you.
And then the door to the break room bursts open.
You look up and there Red Robin stands.
And the way in which he shakes his hair away from his eyes with a movement of his head while looking around the room frantically, trying to locate you through the mist, makes your breath hitch in realization for the second time in the last few minutes.
Tim.
Then he notices Jason’s unconscious body in your arms and when his gaze meets yours, even with the helmet on he knows what you want to say.
Save him.
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Your shifts at the bookstore have never felt longer. You had become so used to him and come to rely on his visits so much that now, without him, they only drag on and on and on, something that had never even happened before.
Even before him.
Your only solace being that he’s alive.
You often have to remind yourself of that fact when the memory of the fear of losing him claws back at you.
Jason is alive. He is okay.
After Tim found you two, he launched towards Jason, checking his vitals and addressing his state.
He told you that he needed to bring Jason to the batcave as soon as possible and you had immediately grabbed Jason’s hand, refusing to let go of him and profusely saying that you were going with him.
But Tim had only shook his head, explaining how Jason would kill him if he ever allowed you to not go to the hospital for a check up.
But you had fought him with tooth and nails, saying that you weren’t leaving his side anytime soon and Tim had no other option but to give up.
However, just as Tim was calling for Steph to come and help him with Jason quickly, you passed out.
Whether because of all the emotions and stress of those five minutes (because yes, since Jason first entered into the bookshop to protect you, it had only been five minutes, maybe even less), or because due to the shifted panels in the helmet, some gas had managed to slip in, you didn’t know.
Probably more the later than the former but still.
Next thing you knew, you woke up in the hospital. Thankfully without the helmet, Tim having probably managed to unlock it.
Through the doctors, nurses, and the news on the TV in the ER, you learned that the gas was dangerous but thankfully non-lethal. In most cases, like yours, people in the neighborhood who had only inhaled a bit just felt dizzy for a few hours or passed out for a bit.
In other cases, the most serious ones, like Jason’s, people were put into a coma-like state, with the lungs rendered to a point of near-exhaustion. But with good rest and the appropriate care, they would recover soon with no side effects.
Batman had managed to apprehend Scarecrow and just like the vigilantes had suspected from the beginning, it wasn’t a deliberate attack but a robbery gone wrong.
They let you go of the hospital that very same afternoon, with instructions that if you felt any kind of dizziness to come back. After your family (and Rose and Jimmy of course) checked in with you, you were finally able to grab a hold of your phone that had been left in the bookshop.
You were met with a text from Tim, how he had managed to get your number, you didn’t know, but it probably had something to do with the fact that all the Waynes were part of the Batfamily.
Or at least, that’s what you figured, once you were finally able to think with a clear head and digest all of your recent discoveries.
The text said that Jason had made it to the batcave safely, that he had been treated immediately and that he was resting now.
You have never been more grateful for anything in your life.
But that had been a week and a half ago. And you hadn’t seen Jason since.
You felt like a part of you had been ripped out and taken along with him. The absence of a vital organ leaving you empty.
Probably your heart, since it had left your chest and leaped itself into Jason’s hands a long time ago.
The neighborhood had been deemed safe after the gas dissipated and you were back to your job like nothing had ever happened, just like how it often was after any incident with a rogue in Gotham.
Life just went on. Gotham and its residents as resilient as ever. The fight and survival etched onto their DNA.
If there ever was something to admire Gotham for, its survival skills were definitely it.
You had wanted to see Jason immediately, and you had even called Tim so that he could tell you more about Jason’s state and tried to see when you could go see him but then your mother had called.
Your uncle had had an accident at work and he would need surgery.
Though there was some risk, it wasn’t a extremely dangerous procedure. But if there was something that all of your family had in common and that was characteristic of all of you, was that if something happened to someone, every single member of the family would come running to be there.
And you knew that you had to be there, you wanted to be there, but it still tore at your insides having had to leave without having being able to see Jason. But your uncle lived on the other side of the country and you had to take a plane that very same night to be able to arrive before the surgery the next day.
So, you had called Tim back, telling him that you had to leave, how bad you felt, how sorry you were and that you would try to come back as soon as possible. But Tim assured you that it was okay, that they would all take care of Jason, that it would take him a couple of days to wake up and be fully conscious and that he understood (and that Jason would too) that you had to go.
You nodded, trying to hold back tears and muff your sniffling due to all the stress that had taken a hold of you due to all the recent events. Tim had calmed you down and promised you to keep you updated. Helping you just like you had done when you met him.
Thank god for Tim Drake. You’re pretty sure that you would have lost it if it weren’t because of him. His reassurance a sign of a friendship for a lifetime.
And so, you left. Everything went well with your uncle and you were glad to have been able to see your family for a few days since quite a long time ago.
But when you came back, Jason wouldn’t see you.
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It took Jason two days to wake up from the coma-like state, though he had been getting better and better with each passing hour, and a full day of only eating and sleeping before he was able to return to normalcy.
Still, when he first woke up, the only thing in his foggy brain was you. He asked about you as soon as he opened his eyes and Tim told him that you were okay but that you had to leave for a few days due to a family emergency, and that you had called every day several times to check in.
Jason let out a sigh of relief. Both because you were safe and because he didn’t know how he would have faced you if you had been there.
He was sure that you hated him now. Despised him. Sure, you had called to see how he was, but that’s just how you were, caring and protective. But deep down, he knew that you had to resent him for having hidden being Red Hood from you.
He was sure that if he saw you, the first thing that you would do was scream at him and tell him that you didn’t want him in your life anymore.
And he wouldn’t be able to bear that.
He didn’t know how he could ever go back to a life without you.
That’s why he refused to see you everytime that you reached out after you came back. Letting his phone ring out when you called, later just sending a quick text saying that he was fine, that he was just busy with some things in order to not worry you. He knew that it was unfair and that he was being an idiot but he didn’t know what he would do if he saw you, even though he knew that he eventually would have to.
And yet, despite all of that, he still couldn’t bring himself to fully cut ties with you. He simply couldn’t. Needing you at least in some way in his life just as much as he needed air. As well as the fact that he knew that he couldn't do something like that to you, at least not without explaining.
It wasn’t until Tim cornered him and talked some sense into him that he realized that he couldn’t put it off any longer. 
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When Jason enters the bookshop, a chill runs through him as he shakes the drops of water from his hair. He had dreaded every single step that he took towards the bookshop, a cloud of shame hanging over his head. And then the universe had decided that he wasn’t miserable enough and so that cloud of shame had quite literally started to pour on him. He couldn’t help but think that he deserved it but still, it sucked.
He usually liked rain. Just not when he didn’t have an umbrella and was tethering on the edge of sanity while trying to hold the composure that he had created to give him the strength necessary to face you. And certainly not when he was holding a hot chocolate that he had bought for you; having already lost count of how many times he had previously done so when he came to visit you, in a sad attempt at a peace offering, even though he was sure that you would dump it on him; but that now surely was just cold chocolate.
Shit. He really was going to look like even more of an idiot than he already was.
“Jason?” Your soft voice comes through, like an antidote calming him instantly and soothing all his worries. Your presence, like always, making all of his dark thoughts go away.
Though that peace didn’t last long because you were here now and he couldn’t run now. He had to do what he had come to do.
Even though he still wasn’t sure what exactly that was, no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself. Had he come to apologize? Explain? Beg for your forgiveness? He had no idea.
It didn’t matter anymore because as usual, all his thoughts and working brain cells flew out of the window when he was near you. This time even more so than usual since he had never gone this long without seeing you. He just stands there, soaked from the rain on the entrance doormat, like a wet cat begging to be let home again after causing trouble and running out.
And you’re just standing there, in the doorway of the break room, looking at him like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, as if he was some mythological creature and you didn’t dare to move an inch, either in order not to scare him away or because you were petrified in fear, Jason didn’t know.
And he’s just rendered speechless. His breath taken away from him as he takes you in for what possibly is the last time, trying to commit every part of your beautiful self to memory, all of those parts that he already knows by heart, before you kick him out of the bookshop and out of your life forever.
“Yeah.” He finally responds.
Great, Jason. Very eloquent.
No turning back now.
He gulps.
“Hi.” He adds, trying to act with normalcy but he winces when he realizes that it doesn’t match the situation at all. There really is no way of making this any easier, is there?
He expects you to start yelling at him, push him, anything. But you just keep staring at him. And then:
“God, you’re drenched. Wait here.” You disappear for a second and Jason can’t believe what has just happened, a bewildered look in his eyes. He expected anything but that. But he obeys, doing whatever you asked of him in his very nature, trying to move as little as possible so that he would only drop water onto the doormat. You return quickly and hand him a towel after taking the hot (cold) chocolate from his hands so that he can dry up a bit. 
You put the cup onto the counter as he shakes his boots on the mat, dries his face and ruffles the towel through his hair. When he finishes you approach him once again.
“Here, let me take your jacket. You're going to freeze.” Jason feels like he’s on autopilot as he follows your every direction, like a sailor the call of a siren. Not daring to move a single muscle or do any abrupt movement other than what’s necessary, afraid of breaking whatever is happening right now.
You hang his jacket on the coat rack by the door to dry a bit and then you turn back to him.
There’s a moment of silence, the only noise being the rain’s soft pattering against the windows, the dark clouds filtering the setting sun, casting the bookstore in a gloomy atmosphere though the place still maintains its warm glow from the few lamps turned on with a yellow and orange glow.
The place is quiet, not a single soul in the bookshop except you two. Jason made sure of coming around closing time so that you could be alone, without any other customers interrupting and, even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, the small hope of finding the bookshop closed and therefore having the perfect excuse to delay this another day.
But of course, the universe wasn’t going to have it. He never was that lucky.
Jason is so stupefied that he doesn’t move from the doormat as you take a couple of steps closer to him and look him over. Assessing him. Studying him. He avoids your gaze, not knowing what to do under your scrutiny.
He might as well be a cactus now with how rooted he is to the goddamn doormat. And then he sees how your feet join his on it and he can’t help the chill that runs through him once again, but not from the cold this time, but from your intoxicating proximity, so reminiscent of the one from the ghost kiss in the alley.
This is it, he thinks. This is when you finally push him from your life forever.
But then you surprise him once again, when without any trace of hesitation nor fear you touch his face. Sofly cradling it as if you might still care about him.
He doesn’t understand anything that’s going on right now. He has never been more confused in his entire life.
After so many months, Jason had come to know you in such a way, so intricately well, that he could read you like a book. Just like you with him. But now, Jason is seriously questioning that because he has no idea what is going through your mind right now.
He finally gathers the courage to look at you, still afraid of what he’s going to find, but you’re not even looking at him.
Your gaze is fixated upon the small cut at the end of his left eyebrow.
A reminder of the Red Hood duty from the night before. How he had managed to get a wound there even with the helmet on, he had no idea.
He sees your eyebrows furrow and your expression change to one of worry.
And then your hands run down his sides until they take a hold of his, inspecting them over after taking the towel from them.
And you sigh, disappointed in finding what you hoped not to be there. The skin on his knuckles broken once again.
Jason feels like a stranded boat, lost at sea, the water around him lulling him to its will.
That’s you.
The rain continues on as you turn slightly and flip the sign of the bookshop to closed before locking the door.
As a lightning strikes in the distance, flashing momentaneous light into the bookshop and illuminating your soft features, you take Jason’s hand and just like several times before, you drag him to the break room, but this time, instead of on a chair by the table, you sit him down on the sofa.
And he lets you. He gladly lets the sea take his boat wherever it wants to. Even if it’s to his own demise.
You take the blanket resting on the arm of the couch and drape it over him, making sure that it stays on his shoulders before you take the towel back to the bathroom and for the third time, you grab the first aid kit there.
You return to the break room and not even your shuffling steps make his lost gaze go towards you.
Despite his big frame you had never seen him so small, curled onto himself, head hung in shame; and it makes your heart clench. He looks deep in thought, grabbing the edges of the blanket so that it stays wrapped around him, as if he’s contemplating how to say whatever he has come to say to you.
But you don’t care. He could stay quiet the whole time if he wanted to.
Because at least he was here.
And honestly, your first instinct at seeing him back in the bookshop had been to run to him and hug him like your life depended on it and never let him go. But you had ultimately decided against it, not wanting to scare him away.
His presence there still felt almost like a mirage to you, after having gone so long without seeing him for the first time ever since you met him.
So, it was a very welcomed step from just sending you short texts letting you know he was still alive and well.
And you couldn’t blame him. Like always, you two worked by taking your own time, giving each other space.
And you knew that Jason had a lot on his mind after the gas incident. In the chaos of it all, he had told you that he had wanted to tell you about being Red Hood before and you wholeheartedly believed him, knowing that it wasn’t something that you could just tell anyone at any given moment. And now he had to deal with the reality that now you knew about that part of his life.
And you had a feeling that he thought that you would push him away for it. Resent him. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Because now you saw the whole picture that Jason Todd was.
And you know what?
He still was your Jason.
He still was the man that you were in love with.
Someone to whom you felt connected in a way that you had never felt before. Someone that was your friend and that always managed to make you smile. Someone that was always there for you when you had a bad day. Someone that reads to kids in his free time. Someone that tries to make this city better and protects its people as a vigilante. Someone who goes out of his way to visit you, a completely normal and ordinary woman who runs a simple bookshop. Someone that didn’t hesitate in sacrificing his own safety for yours.
Yeah, you were still very much in love with that man.
And if he needed some time to come back to you, that was fine with you because you knew that he wouldn’t just leave you like that. During the last few days you could even have sworn to have seen him peering through the windows into the bookshop in passing, but when you focused a bit more, he was gone. Or at least that’s what you hoped, the string pulling you two together too strong. 
No matter how much it had pained you to have the person holding your heart keeping you at arm’s length.
Because a day or two more of waiting and you would have stormed into wherever Jason was and told him how much he meant to you until that stubborn head of his realized how you weren’t ever letting him go.
You also hoped that he didn’t resent you, for not having been able to be at his side when he woke up. Something that you will never forgive yourself for, no matter how you knew that it couldn’t have been any other way.
You sit down next to him and place the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of the sofa, getting all that you will need to heal his wounds ready. You take one more look at them and your heart clenches.
You don’t like how he doesn’t seem to take full care of himself.
Because to you, Jason Todd was a treasure. A treasure that you will never be sure how you had managed to be able to find.
And he should be treated just like one.
And that’s exactly what you intend to do.
You follow the same process as the last time to take care of his knuckles, Jason quiet and avoiding your gaze the whole time, before moving onto the cut on his brow.
You raise your hand with a cotton patch to put some antiseptic on it and your eyes finally meet his. The green in them, like always, lighting up your insides, a forest in which you would gladly get lost in.
Jason looks at you as one of your hands takes a hold of his chin to tilt his head while the other one begins treating the cut.
And Jason feels like dying when he sees the flash of pain that crosses your eyes because he knows that he’s the one who put it there.
From the very first time that you healed him, he could see how you didn’t like seeing him hurt. Yet he still had let you see his wounds and tend to them more times after that.
He really usually does tend to his wounds. Except that very first time with his knuckles that he had been so tired he had only cleaned them. But after feeling your soft hands taking care of him for the first time, it was like he didn’t want his wounds healed anymore unless it was you the one who did it.
And so, subconsciously, selfishly and guiltily, he barely tended to them, just what was strictly necessary, a desperate attempt and blind hope of you maybe wanting to heal him in order to feel your delicate touch, that Jason was sure did a lot more for his wounds than whatever any kind of medicine could do.
Your touch not only mending his wounds but also healing his soul and soothing all the bad thoughts in his mind.
But right now, Jason wants nothing more than to get on his knees and do whatever you ask of him. Anything to make the slight hurt that briefly passes your eyes go away. Beg if it's necessary.
He thinks that apologizing may be a good starting point.
“Y/N…” He begins but before he can go on any further you hush him, almost like you want to enjoy the silence and this moment of intimacy as much as possible.
Then you reach for the first aid kit again, taking a steri-strip from a pack that you had bought, along with some other extra items, knowing that the basics of a normal first aid weren’t going to be enough now that you knew that he was Red Hood.
You put it on the cut, careful of not hurting him. Jason watches you mesmerized, still not believing that you haven’t kicked him out yet.
Then, you take a normal band-aid to put over the strip, just to be extra safe but mainly because you want to see him smile.
“Is that a Hello Kitty band-aid?” He asks in disbelief, breaking the silence, as he watches you open the band-aid with the pink, red and white doodles.
“Yup.” You say as you put it, covering the cut and fully hiding it from view, Jason not putting any kind of resistance to it. And your heart clenches blissfully at the small smile that pulls at Jason’s lips. Oh, how much you had missed it, your own personal kind of drug. And you can’t help but mirror him too.
“Thanks.” He whispers once you’re done patching him up. You give a slight nod in return.
You pass your thumb softly over the band-aid to make sure that it doesn’t fall off and then you meet Jason’s eyes again, that look just like a kicked puppy’s. Shining with oncoming tears and wide in fear of what is going to come next.
“I owe you an explanation.” He finally says with a sigh of resignation and you shake your head.
“Jason, you don’t-”
“No, let me do this. I need to do this. It’s the least I can do, I owe it to you.” He says, taking your hands in his, one of which still was caressing his eyebrow and stares at them as he can’t help but begin to rub soft circles into the back of them.
Goosebumps raise all over your skin.
Jason takes a deep breath before he starts talking. It seemed like you still cared about him but would you still do so once he finally explained everything and told you the truth?
He didn’t want to get his hopes up. But he knows that he can’t delay this anymore. He doesn’t want to.
As he begins, a cracking thunder sounds in the distance, shaking the foundations of the road that you two have been building together to its core.
The question being, would it stand the storm?
You listen to him intently. He doesn’t look at you once, instead deciding to focus on your joined hands. Grabbing onto a last part of you before he lets you go forever.
“And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I totally understand that you may not want to see me anymore. I betrayed your trust and that’s unforgivable. Some of the things that I’ve done…” He shakes his head. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. You mean so much to me. And even though it breaks me having to remove myself from your life, I know that it’s for the best.”
“Jason, I-”
“No, no. Let me finish please.” He continues ranting. “I promise you that I won’t let the feelings that I have for you get in the way. I will go out that door tonight and never come back again. I’ll let you get on with your life.”
You’re fairly sure that he doesn’t even realize half the things that he’s saying. It’s like he has opened a gate and now not only is he apologizing and telling you the truth about everything, but he’s also letting his feelings for you finally come to the surface, unable to stop himself. He’s so caught up in everything that he leaves them out in the open without even realizing it.
And you just want to smile. Because Jason Todd has feelings for you too. And he has just said it out loud. You try to conceal your beaming smile to not scare him away. He’s way too much into his own head now, spiraling around the fact that he has to remove himself from your life as some sort of self-imposed punishment and in order to at least spare himself a part of the pain that would come from you outright kicking him away.
But you would never do that. Because even with everything that he has just told you and the things that he hasn’t yet, because you know that his story is a lot longer than what an evening can hold and holds a lot more things and very much darker ones than what he has revealed for the moment, you still want to be here with him. You still want him in your life.
Nothing could make you want to stay away from Jason Todd.
Not even himself.
And if there’s one thing that you’re stubborn about is that you’re always there for the people that you care about.
You just need to make him see that. To make him see how important he is to you. And you’re going to do everything you can so that he does.
You call his name again, trying to center his attention back to you but he keeps rambling.
You can only think of one thing that might finally make him stop and listen to you while also making him realize how you feel about him.
You have never done something as bold as this before. And there’s still a knick of doubt in the back of your mind, but the mere possibility of Jason leaving and the fact that the safety line that you two had drawn about your friendship and your feelings is fully difuminated now after his unintentional confession, almost as if it had never actually been there, has you determined. You want to think that it would turn out right.
And if not, at least you would get to do something that you had wanted to do for a very long time.
So, after firmly saying his name once more, and one of your hands getting out of his hold and tilting his head towards you, just when his eyes finally, finally, lock with yours for a quick second, you press your lips to his.
It’s not a long kiss and there isn’t much movement but you hope that you’re conveying everything that you feel for him and more. You can tell that Jason’s caught by surprise but it doesn’t take long at all for him to slowly press his lips against yours, returning your kiss. He lets himself melt into it and you do too. You feel warm all over and then you both sigh against each other, the two of you having fallen off the tightrope and finding that not only there’s a safety net beneath you, but an infinite number under it, one after the other, in the impossible case that one might break.
A soft place to land, a warm embrace.
You think that you could die happily right now.
You part, not wanting to overwhelm him but just from that taste you can already feel yourself slightly dizzy in the best kind of way. You slowly open your eyes and see Jason already looking at you, not believing what has just happened. You take a deep breath. Might as well put the nail in the coffin now. Cement the road.
“I’m in love with you Jason. All that makes you be you. Including being Red Hood. And I’m not going anywhere. And I really, really hope that you aren’t either.” You whisper.
“I’m a mess.”
You tilt your head with a small smile. “Aren’t we all?”
“Are you sure?” He whispers back, caressing your hair, still giving you an out, a last chance for you to escape him and all his problems, before his instincts take over and he latches himself onto you forever and never lets you go.
You nod, not faltering in your resolve. “Yes.”
“I’m in love with you too. I love you.” He says next and nothing has ever felt so liberating. Jason feels light, floating. And all he wants to do now is say it over and over again, just in case that you might still not be aware of how much he loves you.
“Good. That’s very, very good. I love you too.” You giggle, pressing your forehead to his, your noses brushing each other. Jason grins.
“Can you do that again?” He asks, his gaze dropping to your lips, already knowing that the day that he goes by without tasting them will be torture.
Your smile widens even more, if that’s even possible, and you kiss him once again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
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After that, everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.
Except that now, he also kissed you everytime he did so.
Except that now, you went on very official dates, not ones that could be mistaken by a friendly hangout.
Except that now, you paid a lot more attention to any news about Red Hood.
Except that now, you always patched him up.
Except that now, you spent nights in each other's beds.
And right now, you’re very confused.
Your brows knit as you try to understand what is in front of you. The computer screen showing the details of a book order that you had made for the bookshop a while ago but that hadn’t arrived, not making any sense.
You’re so concentrated that you barely register the jingle of the bell above the entrance door. Out of the corner of your eye you feel a figure come to stand in front of the counter.
“Just a second, please. I’ll be right with you.” You say almost automatically, trying to see if you can just wrap your head around what you’re reading on the screen, though you doubt that a few more seconds will make any difference. But still, you’re adamant to try.
“It’s okay. I’m just looking for my girlfriend.” The figure says and your head lifts up so fast at the voice that you should be worried about getting whiplash. But you don’t care.
Because there he is.
Jason Todd.
Your boyfriend.
You still feel giddy inside every time that you think about it.
You let out a small gasp before your lips twist into a wide smile and you might as well be The Flash with how quickly you round the counter and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Jason’s smile is just as radiant as yours as he watches you come to him and gets ready for when you crash into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and giving you a slight spin when your feet lift off the floor due to the force of your hug.
He closes his eyes and breathes you in while he hugs you and brings you even closer to him, if that’s even possible. Your bodies merged into one in your embrace.
Never in his wildest dreams would Jason have ever thought that he would find himself in this situation. One in which you rush to meet him glowing with happiness. One in which he gets to kiss you without the fear of being rejected and one in which he’s able to call himself yours. He never would have believed any of that when he stepped foot into the bookshop that fateful night, which he was sure would be the last time he would ever get to see you.
He still can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you want him. That you accept all of his demons and that you help him fight them. That you love him. He will never take it for granted.
God, he loves you so much.
Your feet touch the floor once again but he doesn’t let go. He lets his senses overwhelm with you, everything about you enveloping him and not letting him feel anything that isn’t you. Your scent, the feel of your hair tickling his cheek, your arms around him. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.
He’s finally home.
Two weeks and a half is too long without you.
You think the very same about him as you do the exact same with him, your senses taking every part of him in, committing him to memory once again, even though you already know them like the back of your hand.
The feel of his soft hair as you run your fingers through it, just like you had dreamed so many times before, the scent and feel of his leather jacket beneath your arms.
God, you love him so much.
You finally pull back and look up at him with stars in your eyes. And then, without sparing another second, he dips down to kiss you. Or you pull up to kiss him, you’re not sure.
The only thing that matters is that his lips are finally back on yours and that’s all you need to know. You kiss him deeply, savoring him after being apart for so long and he kisses you back just as eagerly, loving the feeling of finally having you back in his arms.
And just like everytime that you kissed, like the very first time, it feels like a dream. Because you still can’t believe that he’s yours and that you’re his.
It was a long time coming.
But it turns out that you two are still human and therefore still need to breathe, so you both pull away but only what is strictly necessary to regain your breaths. Your chests and foreheads are still pressed together and lips inches from each other, so close that you can’t tell which breaths are his and which breaths are yours.
Your fast beating hearts falling into the same rhythm, syncing once again, going as one.
One of your hands holds the side of his face, softly caressing his cheek, so smooth that he must have shaved that very same morning. You feel his grip on your waist tighten.
“What are you doing here?” You finally say between giggles, the drug of his proximity, like always, making pure happiness run through your veins.
“Wrapped the case early.” He answers breathlessly before not being able to resist anymore and kissing you again.
You can’t help the smile on your lips while you kiss him and you can feel another one pulling at his own. When you separate once again you smile at each other, your eyes shining with love and affection for one another.
Jason had left earlier that month to help Dick with a case in Blüdhaven for a few days but then the thing had gotten bigger and dragged them all the way to Metropolis, making his trip longer than what he had first anticipated.
And then earlier in the week he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to return until the end of it. But here he was. Holding you in his arms and kissing you on a peaceful Wednesday afternoon.
“Everything went well?” You ask, not daring to tear your eyes away from his, only perhaps to steal a quick look at his lips.
“Yeah. All good.”
Before either of you can say anything else or even try to kiss each other again, Rose, Jimmy and Charlie, all of whom had been chatting over coffee in the break room, emerge at all the fuss.
“What’s all this?” Says Charlie with a smile as you and Jason disentangle, though he keeps you tucked into his side with a respectful arm around your waist.
“Just a young lovers reunion, Charlie.” Answers Rose.
“Sorry for intruding on, kiddos.” Adds Jimmy.
“It’s okay.” You say.
“You must be this Jason that I’ve heard so much about.” Charlie comments.
“Yes, sir. And you must be the famous Charlie. Nice to meet you.” Jason answers while shaking his hand, though not before throwing you a glance that makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and hide your face in his shoulder for a second. So you talked about me too huh?
“You too. My grandchildren are going to be devastated that you’re with someone now, darling.” Charlie says jokingly towards you now.
“Sorry, Charlie.” You respond with an apologetic smile.
“It’s good to see you, sweetie.” Says Rose to Jason to which Jimmy nods in agreement.
“It’s great to be back home.” He answers and you feel his hand give your waist a slight squeeze.
Shivers run down your spine.
You look up at Jason lovingly, a gaze that he returns, and you’re so lost in each other that neither of you see the smiles and look of recognition that the elders have in their faces, having themselves experienced a love like yours that still lasted to this day.
“Go, honey. Take the rest of the day.” Rose offers. You turn to her surprised but you can’t help but to also be excited at the possibility of going out with Jason already. Maybe to see Lily and the other kids, since Jason hadn’t seen them since he left, though you had of course shown up to check on them and continue with the readings, or maybe to eat something at Millie and Ruby’s.
But you don’t care as long as Jason’s with you. There were so many possibilities and you two had all the time in the world. And you were going to seize every single second of it. You two had wasted enough time already.
You also already know that Jason’s either spending the rest of the week at your apartment or you’re spending it at his.
“Are you sure?” You ask Rose.
“Yeah, go have fun, kids.” Jimmy confirms. You thank them before smiling brightly at Jason and then going to get your bag and coat.
As you and Jason make your way towards the door, Charlie speaks up once again.
“You’re treating her right, I suppose.”
Jason looks at you as he opens the door of the bookshop before turning back to Charlie.
“Always.” He says without hesitating and Charlie nods, glad with his answer.
The elders watch you go, happy that you two have each other. They watch how Jason moves the hand on the small of your back to take your hands between his and blow into them to warm them up in the cold Gotham air. And how you then zip his jacket all the way up, adjusting the collar so that it would protect him as much as possible, both of you smiling and looking at each other fondly, before you disappear from their view hand in hand.
Because as it turns out, it isn’t really a surprise when the road stays as strong and sturdy as ever after that cracking thunder.
Because that night, the days after and over time, Jason told you everything. About his past, about his family. And over time all that you did was fall even more for him, loving every part, every scar that he decided to show you. And he did the exact same for you.
Because in the end, he still was your Jason, the kind and handsome young man who always checked out children’s books and wore leather jackets.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
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thenightfolknetwork · 19 days
Note
Hello! You have a problem. You were cursed by a witch to only be able to communicate in second person. This is annoying, but manageable. However, the curse turned out a bit strong, and anyone who tries to talk to you will ALSO only be able to communicate in second person while communicating with you.
You will be honest, you kind of totally deserved the curse. You were rude to the witch on your date and acted VERY self-centered and didn't ask her about herself, very bad etiquette, etcetera. You're honestly fine with just riding the curse out at least for a while longer, it's a good reminder that you aren't perfect and growth is a constant process.
But you're pretty sure that the extra-strength whammy is probably very disconcerting for anyone you're trying to talk to, especially if they're not expecting it, and it's making your job as a call center tech support advisor VERY confusing for everyone involved. And you'd just text the witch to go, hey, you understand that curses are meant to be inconvenient and this is all part of the lesson and whatnot, but you don't think it's fair to strangers who need help with their iPhones, so could you maybe adjust that a bit? But he blocked you on Grindr and you don't know how to get in contact with him elsewise, so you're making a hail mary by trying to call into TNN.
You're pretty sure you don't actually need advice but you'd appreciate it if maybe you could get the word out that if anyone knows a witch in Southpoole with a rocking body, GREAT tongue, bit of a lisp, and mottled brown scales, PLEASE have him contact you about this and also you're sorry--no, sorry, YOU'RE sorry--agh, whatever, you get what you mean.
You can certainly see how- Ah. Yes, you see the problem. You had been somewhat optimistic the curse might not extend to this more removed form of communication, but it seems you were mistaken.
You can certainly get the word out on your platforms – if any of your other followers recognise the individual in question based on that rather… enthusiastic description, please do encourage them to get in touch with the author of this letter at their earliest convenience.
.You say you're willing to ride out the curse until its natural end. That is entirely up to you, of course. However, you would like to note that mild to moderate curses can often be lifted by other practitioners without too much trouble.
If the curse grows overly wearisome or hasn't lifted by itself in, say, two months time, you recommend seeking out a local practitioner and having the curse ended that way. As always, do make sure any practitioner you hire for such work has a proper license, and steer clear of anyone making overblown claims about their abilities.
Finally, while you are generally of the opinion that curses are a rather tasteless way of handling interpersonal conflicts, you must allow, they can be rather effective.
You hope you have learnt your lesson as well as you claim, and that you will be more considerate in the future – or at the very least, save your rudeness for dates who can't call on dark powers to inflict weird suffering upon you in retaliation.
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sopebubbles · 9 months
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Master List
Twelve
Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.
Chapter summary: Yoongi takes you on a date
Warnings: slight angst (mostly talking about her past), mentions of past abuse, homelessness, fear of abandonment
Honestly yall its a lot of yoongi and oc being freakin soft 😩
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Yoongi was only slightly disappointed to find you awake and making breakfast with Hobi in the kitchen when he came in after eight in the morning. He'd kind of been hoping to be able to take a peek at you in your nest, just to see for himself that you were as safe and cozy as his other omega had promised (many times) that you were last night. Although he hadn't been gripped by the same agonizing fear he had known for the month you were gone, he still hated being away from you so long last night, and he'd texted both Jimin and Hoseok multiple times last to assuage his anxiety (and his guilt). They'd promised him that you had nested just fine, had eaten well and seemed perfectly happy with Jimin's company before peacefully going to sleep. It was cute just how much he worried about the details. 
"Yoongi!" You said his name brightly when you saw him and rushed over to give him a hug. You were too energized from a good night's sleep and the cup of fresh squeezed orange juice Taehyung gave you to be self conscious about it. You didn't seem to notice the flour on your cheek until Yoongi brushed it off with a smile. "Oh sorry. I'm probably getting you dirty," you said as you tried to pull away. He held you close. 
"I don't mind. Good morning," he hummed as he rubbed his chin over the top of your head. 
"M-morning." Yoongi's arms tightening around you turned to jelly when you'd been solid only moments ago. 
How can he be so warm? He must be tired and hungry.
"Can I get you some pancakes?" You offered, and he finally loosened his hold.
"Only if you eat some with me. Have you eaten yet?" 
You shook your head. "But I need to help Hobi."
The omega waved a hand at you without looking back. "I can handle it. If your alpha says eat, then it's time to eat. Which you know. She kept saying she didn't want to eat until you got here," he added just to make you squirm. A small whine escaped your throat, drawing the attention of all the men, whether they intended to look your way or not. "Careful, girl. Your whines have power here," Hobi smirked as he set two plates in front of you and Yoongi on the counter. 
You sat down and ate quietly for a few minutes while Yoongi tried and failed to pretend he was paying more attention to the food than to you. Jin and Jungkook were laying on the couch, nearly falling back asleep after stuffing themselves before anyone else got up. Jimin had gotten up to take your place helping Hobi while Taehyung and Namjoon sat at the table sharing the newspaper. 
"What do you want to do today?" Yoongi asked after several minutes. 
You swallowed and cleared your throat. "I have to work later."
Yoongi's fork froze halfway to his mouth. "What? why?"
You shrugged. "I work Saturdays."
"You work six hours a day, six days a week?" You nodded. "That's too much."
"I-I thought you d-didn't mind me working…"
Screwed it up already. Now you'll see how he really feels. The pancakes in your stomach turned to lead. 
Yoongi could see you getting nervous, watched you grow even smaller. "No. No, I don't," he managed, forcing his voice to be calm. "I don't mind you working if it's what you want.  But that's a lot. Thirty-six hours is almost full time but no benefits. That just seems…sketchy."
You tilted your head at him. "What do you mean?"
"Just that it seems like your employer is taking advantage of you. Do you get any benefits?"
"Well, I get heat leave."
"But what about health insurance? Vacation? Extended sick leave? What if you get pregnant?" Yoongi could feel all the air leave the room and wished he could take the words back.
You shook you head and spoke softly, "Yoongi, I'm not–"
"I know. I didn't mean that. I'm an idiot. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, those are things you'd expect in a full-time job."
You shrugged. "It's not like I have a lot of options, Yoongi."
"I know," he sighed. "I just want you to be treated fairly."
You stood from your stool and walked toward the stairs. "People like me don't get treated fairly."
Yoongi got up and followed you, catching your arm as gently as he could. "I'm sorry. For what I said and how I said it. I know that you've been doing the best you could, and I have no right to judge that. Everything is okay." His hand laid hot against your neck, thumb stroking just the bottom edge of your scent gland. When he felt your shoulders relax, so did his. "Come finish your breakfast, and when you're ready I'll take you to work."
You turned worried eyes up at him. "You worked so hard, alpha. You must be tired. I'll finish, but then you need to go to sleep. Jimin and Tae will take me."
The corners of Yoongi's mouth turned up in a placating smile. "Okay."
He watched you walk back to your seat at the counter and pick up your fork, ignoring the eyes of the others as he joined you. He wanted to talk it through with you more, but he wasn't going to make you do it in front of everyone, and he didn't want to get into an argument before you went to work all day. Instead, he asked you how your night was and what you did the day before, and you plastered on a smile that slowly became more natural while you told him all about nesting and your newfound love of pillows.
When you'd both finished eating, you took your plates and washed them along with the others, no matter what Hobi said. You couldn't sit down and relax now. Doing so would only create nervous energy you wouldn't be able to dispel. You'd have to spend the rest of your day in motion. Yoongi followed you again when you went up the stairs to change for work, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little annoying.
At the top of the stairs you turned to look at him. "Are you going to follow me around all day?" You snapped. 
Yoongi took a step back. He honestly didn't even realize how close he was. "I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and you could see how tired he was. 
You crossed your arms over your chest. "What are you doing?"
He sighed. "I was going to sleep like you'd suggested. I think I was following you because…"
He wants to sleep in my nest. 
The realization dawned on both of you. "It's not time yet," you said softly, but eased your defensive stance. 
Yoongi met your eyes with equal tenderness and smiled a little. "Yet?"
"Yet," you confirmed.
Somehow the idea that there was a future nest he would be invited into was enough for him. "That's alright."
You turned on your heel to walk to your room, but he called you back. "Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?"
"A date?"
"Yeah. If you don't have any plans."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"
He chuckled. "Well, I told you we could date as part of our courtship, and I would like to get to know you better."
"But…" you looked at him with an expression of such utter confusion that he wished he had a camera to document it. 
"But what?"
"I just…I don't want you to force yourself to take me on a date if you aren't attracted to me."
It was Yoongi's turn to be utterly lost. "Whatever gave you the idea that I'm not attracted to you? I'm your alpha."
"Yeah, I know, but I feel like you're just doing this, taking me in because you want to protect me, because I'm so helpless and pathetic. And you were so cool about not breeding me. Plus you have all the guys, and so I just guessed you weren't thinking of me that way." You wilted under Yoongi's amused gaze. 
He snorted. "Princess, I do want to protect you because you are incredibly vulnerable, but that doesn't change my attraction to you one bit. And there's a whole world of intimacy between protecting you and breeding you. It's vast and we should go slow, but a date is a good start. That is, unless you aren't attracted to me."
Blood rushed to your face as you felt put on the spot. What kind of omega wouldn't be attracted to the alpha he was? What person wouldn't fall for his gentle, caring demeanor? But you couldn't possibly admit to it.
Yoongi stepped closer to mark the top of your head with his scent. The embrace only lasted a few seconds before he pulled away, but it still left you weak in the knees.
"I don't have anything to wear."
Yoongi shrugged. "It will be very casual. No one will see you but me. You can wear pajamas for all I care. Bonus points if you wear one of my hoodies."
You smiled at that thought. "Okay then."
"Good. Then I'll see you tonight," he told you before he turned and went into the pack bedroom to sleep. 
Yoongi was pleasantly surprised to find an apple-scented pillow in his usual spot and let himself enjoy it for a few minutes before his memory from last night came back to him. 
He had brought a patient to the emergency room of the hospital he had brought your ex-alpha to a few nights ago. After they filled out some paperwork, Yoongi and his partner took a break. His motivation was unclear, even at the time, but he found out what room the alpha was staying in from a nurse that liked to talk to him whenever she got the chance. She told him that he was still in the ICU, but that he was in a coma, and hadn't woken up since the night he was brought in. When he found the room, there was a woman inside. A tall redhead, an alpha as well, if Yoongi wasn't mistaken, so he steered clear, but it had stuck with him the rest of the night.
When he heard you, Jimin and Taehyung leave the house, Yoongi got out of bed and went to the living room where Jin and Jungkook were still on the couch.
"Is everything okay, Yoongi?" Jin asked when the alpha only stood over them without saying a word. 
"I need to ask you some questions. Legal questions," he clarified and sat on the coffee table opposite them. 
"What's on your mind, hyung?" Jungkook sat up to give him his full attention. 
"I found out last night that her ex-alpha–"
"His name is Sebastián," Jungkook added. 
Yoongi growled. "He's in a coma. And I just need to know what's going to happen to her if he never wakes up. And I guess, what happens if he does?"
Jin sat up and shared a look with Jungkook before he spoke. "If he doesn't wake up, there would most likely be a grand jury investigation, which would determine who, if anyone, was responsible for his death."
"In that case, the blame would likely fall on the driver, since she has already been charged with drunk driving. It would be manslaughter," Jungkook added. 
"But she said she pushed him, in her statement. That won't matter?"
Jin shook his head doubtfully. "She could get charged, but in my experience, if you put that girl in front of any judge or jury, there's no way they wouldn't chalk it up to self defense. If he does survive, it wouldn't even make sense to press charges for assault. He wouldn't look very sympathetic. But whether or not she's charged criminally, if he dies, his family could bring a wrongful death suit to civil court. But again, it will be hard to make her look like a perpetrator, especially since they're both Lykos."
"You seem confident that she'll be okay?"
"I am," Jin assured him. 
"But what if she had a motive?" Yoongi worried. 
"You mean because they knew each other?" Yoongi nodded. Jin thought it over, rubbing his finger along his lower lip. "The prosecution would have to prove she meant to push him into traffic and not just to get him off of her. In that case, she'd just need to be coached not to take the bait."
"Could you do it? Would you take the case? If it came to that, I mean." Yoongi didn't know any other lawyers, and he certainly didn't know any he thought he could trust with something like this more than Jin. 
He must have been able to read that emotion in Yoongi's eyes because Jin nodded. He wouldn't take that trust for granted again. "If she needs me to, of course, Yoongi. I'll do anything for you."
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You were surprised when Yoongi said he was taking you to a drive in theater. You'd hardly been to any movie theaters at all in your life, and never a drive-in, but you liked the idea of it. There were lots of benefits to it. You got to go out to a public place, but sitting in his car was relatively private. The movie removed the pressure to make conversation, but on the other hand, if the movie wasn't very interesting, you could talk through it without disturbing anyone else. It was really a perfect idea for a first date. 
He'd urged you to take a nap when you got home since the movie wouldn't start until later, and you were glad you'd taken his advice. You didn't have much to choose from when it came to clothing options, so you simply put on a clean pair of jeans and the mustard yellow hoodie he had loaned you a few days ago. Yoongi seemed pleased enough with your ensemble, repeating his compliment of how nice you looked in that color. He wasn't dressed up at all either, wearing a pair of ordinary jeans and a baggy long sleeve shirt. You wouldn't know it because he wouldn't say such a thing, but there wasn't anything you could wear that would look more appealing to him than his own clothes, because they made you look like you were his. He beamed at you when you came down the stairs to leave with him. 
"Do I look okay?" You whispered to Hoseok. 
He pinched your cheek. "You look adorable. He loves it. Believe me." He winked at Yoongi over your head and the alpha held out his hand to take you to the car. "Don't come home too early," he instructed as you went out the door together. 
Once you got settled in the front seat, Yoongi cleared his throat before he started the engine. "This is for you," he said as he handed you a brand new Samsung phone.
"Oh, I–"
"Before you say you don't need it, just consider that it's for me. I want you to make sure that you have it with you and it's on all the time. I told you that it's important for me to know where you are, so I can keep you safe, so you need a phone. And don't worry, it's not like the newest model or anything. Besides, remember you're agreed to let me provide for you. So just accept it. It has all of the pack's numbers saved already, in case you ever need one of them, and they all have your number already. I'm your emergency contact," he rambled.
Instead of offering any protest you smiled softly and unbuckled your seat belt to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, alpha," you said before you leaned back into your spot. You may have wanted to refuse, but he was right, it was for him and not you, not really. If he needed you to carry this thing around in order to feel more secure, that shouldn't be hard for you. 
You weren't prepared for more gifts when you got to the drive-in. When you found a spot to park, Yoongi told you to wait while he got out of the car and went to the trunk. You looked anxiously through the back window, but couldn't see anything that gave away what he was doing. Eventually he pushed a large gift bag and picnic basket through his open car door before he joined you again. 
"What's all this?" You wondered, looking at the tissue paper sticking out of the huge bag at your eye level.
"Why don't you open it and see?" He teased. 
You narrowed your eyes at him as you got up on your knees to be able to look over the bag, but your scrutiny only made him smile. Pulling out the paper piece by piece revealed two soft round pillows inside, one lavender and one orange.
"I figured you needed some pillows for your nest. I thought these could remind you of me and Jiminie."
Your cheeks and your eyes burned as you pulled out the two pillows, almost ball-like except for how plush they were. They squeezed nicely in your arms when you held them to your chest.
"Do you think they'll be okay?" Yoongi asked, beginning to feel nervous when you didn't say anything. 
You buried your head in them to hide your wet eyes. "They're perfect." Your words were muffled, but they still warmed Yoongi's heart. When you collected yourself, you placed the pillows safely back in the bag and set it aside. "What's in the basket?"
"Oh, I asked Hobi to put together some snacks for us. But if there are any other treats you want, I'll go get something from the concession stand." Yoongi opened the top of the basket and you both reached for the box of raisinets at the same time. You whispered an apology while Yoongi plucked them out. He opened the box and handed it to you. "I'm going to go get some popcorn. Do you have a drink preference?" 
You shook your head and he got out once again to go get more snacks. You shoved a few raisinets into your mouth and put the rest away. Then you pulled out the soft orange pillow from the gift bag at your feet and held it close again. You wondered if he'd already scented it, or if it was your imagination that applied the orange aroma. 
The longer he was gone, your mind began to wander. It was hard not to think about all the first things you were experiencing lately. Your very first completely safe, self- made nest, your first drive-in movie, your first date. It had felt like you'd been living for years, in the most raw way possible, but maybe all you'd done was survive, and only barely. These new things seemed so small and insignificant to you when they were only abstract ideas, things you would live without because you didn't need them to survive, but now they felt monumentally important as each one carved a memory in your heart. And each one was available to you only because of Yoongi.
The man at the center of your thoughts broke through them when he returned several minutes later carrying a large bucket of popcorn, which he handed to you, and a large coke that he balanced on the dashboard. 
"Is everything okay?" He asked, taking in your expression, which remained pensive as he settled into his seat. 
You forced a smile, not because you weren't feeling it, but because it wasn't a thing you were accustomed to showing. "I'm fine. I…" you searched for something to say that would take you away from your thoughts. "I didn't even ask what we were seeing."
Yoongi chuckled at himself. "Oh. Yeah. It's actually a horror movie. I was actually hoping we could see the comedy that's playing on the other screen, but it was sold out, so this one was left. But if you don't like horror movies, I was thinking we could just sit and talk. Or we could leave. Or if we're really bored we could turn on the radio station for the comedy and watch it with the horror scenes."
You laughed at his ridiculous idea, but thought it actually sounded kind of fun. "Well, I do like horror movies, but option three also sounds interesting," you admitted with a smile that almost stopped his heart. 
Yoongi cleared his throat as he looked out the window. "There's still like twenty or thirty minutes before the sun sets and the movie starts. Maybe we can still talk?" 
You began to get the feeling that this was what he actually wanted to begin with. He had said he wanted to get to know you, and you supposed he had a right to know the person he was taking in, but at the same time you didn't want to overwhelm him with all of your baggage, at least not in one night. 
"What do you want to talk about?" You hedged, shoving a kernel of popcorn past your lips. 
"Well, I just really want to know more about you, but I don't want to be unfair, so you can ask me anything you want to," he offered, turning in his seat to look at you. 
"I don't know what I could tell you that Jungkook hasn't already. I mean, he must have run a background check on me, right? And he would have told you before he let you take me home?"
Yoongi shook his head. "Jungkook hasn't really said much, actually. I mean, yeah, we do know about, um, where you were before you came to the city," he said diplomatically. 
"You mean jail?" You asked provocatively. "You can say it. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, which I understand." You knew you shouldn't be getting your hackles up with him. He approached the subject gently and here you were, striking back with your claws out like the alley cat that you were. You closed your eyes to try to calm your racing heart.
He placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, it's okay. I'm not judging you. No one in the pack is, either. You're not the only person to get arrested, you know."
You opened your eyes and looked at him incredulously. "Have you been arrested?"
Yoongi nodded his head. "When I was sixteen. A friend and I stole his uncle's car and went for a joy ride. I was just a passenger, and I hadn't presented yet. They dropped the charges."
"Wow, grand theft auto," you chuckled and he did too.
"My point is, we all have a past. I mean, some of us more than others, but you're not the only one."
You eyed him uncertainly. "Did he tell you what I was arrested for? I wasn't just arrested Yoongi. I spent six months in county."
Yoongi nodded. "I know, but I'm not judging you for what you had to do."
You shook your head with a wry laugh. "That's the thing. I didn't do it. I mean yeah, she made me go out there, but I promise you I didn't sell my body. Honest. That was my first night. I may have been naive, but I'm not an idiot. The first guy I talked to was a cop, and I knew it. I could spot him easy, so I offered myself up and I let him arrest me. And when they charged me, I pleaded guilty. Do you know why?" Yoongi shook his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Because going to jail was better than going back to my alphas."
Yoongi kept his face neutral despite the anger he felt bubbling below the surface of his skin. He'd never ever question your decision, but he would always feel angry that your situation was so bad that jail seemed like a viable alternative for you. 
"You said alphas?" He questioned when he managed to speak. 
"Two of them," you said with a nod.
"And one of them was female?"
"Yeah, they were husband and wife."
"How did you meet them? I mean…he's so much older."
You grabbed the coke from the dashboard and took a long drink to clear the lump in your throat. Yoongi's eyes never left you, but you tried to ignore him. "I met her first. I was on the streets. I was almost seventeen by then, but I'd been on my own for months. She just started talking to me one day when she was volunteering at a soup kitchen…offered me a place to stay. And I was desperate enough to not question it."
"So she just…took you in off the streets?" You nodded. "And then what?" He asked as if your story was the one he had bought a ticket for tonight.
"And then…and then everything seemed normal for like a week. They just seemed like a regular couple. They had a spare room and they needed help around the house, so I would clean and take care of the house in exchange for living there. It was several days before I realized they actually wouldn't let me leave. I hadn't really been on heat suppressants yet, and when that time came around I found out that the real reason they wanted me was because they wanted babies. They couldn't have any on their own, so they would use me. Like some fucked up puppy mill," you choked out.
Yoongi reached over to pat your back, but you flinched away from him, and he could understand that you wanted your space after such a revelation. He took his hand back and tried to think of something to say when all he wanted to do was rage on your behalf.  But he knew it wouldn't do you any good. "It makes sense that you were so frightened when two other strangers took you off the street. You must have been very scared."
You looked him straight in the eyes. "It's only been a few days. Shouldn't I still be scared?"
It wounded Yoongi deeply that you felt that way, but he could hardly blame you. He knew it wasn't about him exactly. "I'm sorry. I know there isn't really anything I could say to reassure you that you're safe with me but–"
"It's okay, Yoongi. I do feel safe with you. It's different. The way I feel when I think about you. When I'm near you…I feel safe but…" you looked out at the narrowing strip of pink sky to your left. 
"But what?"
"I've been taken in so many times when I think I'm at my lowest. When I was abandoned as a baby, when I met those other alphas, when Eli came to play big brother. And never, never has any of it actually made me safe."
"I hope–" Yoongi could feel the tears at his water line, but they would stay there. He bit his lip and looked away as well. "I hope you'll stay long enough to know that you will be safe in our home."
You looked back at him finally and noticed the collar of his unbuttoned button-down shirt was crooked. Reaching over to straighten it, you assured him, "as long as you keep it safe for me, I won't have anywhere else to go."
Yoongi took your wrist gently before you had the chance to pull away from him. With his fingertips against your pulse point, he could feel the strong, steady beat of your heart, not high enough to be panicking, but still a little anxious. "I will do everything I can to make you feel safe," he promised.
Before you could make any kind of response, the lights over the parking lot shut off and images began to play on the screen in front of you. Without another word, Yoongi released you in order to fiddle with the radio, tuning it to the right station for your movie. You both settled back into the seat, facing the screen, with a mountain of snacks in between you. You each tried your best to focus on the movie, but you could feel it every time his eyes slid toward you as he watched your profile instead of the characters on screen. Every time you turned to look at him he recentered his attention, but he was fooling no one. Several times your hands brushed when you both reached into the popcorn for a salty snack, and he would chuckle awkwardly before pulling away. 
You both tried to focus on the movie, but the truth was that it did nothing to hold your attention, not with Yoongi right beside you.
"There's something I don't understand," you said abruptly, causing Yoongi to look quickly between you and the huge screen. The movie had been pretty straight forward, to the point of being pretty boring. 
"What?"
"Why do you like me? Why me?" Yoongi laughed openly while you pouted. You pulled your feet under you and turned to face him straight on, giving up any pretense of watching the movie. "Don't laugh. I'm serious. I mean. I don't know. I guess I'm trying to understand your intentions because I want to believe that this won't be like before but I…I'm scrawny and dumb and there's nothing interesting about me. I'm not even pretty enough to make up for it all. And there are plenty of needy omegas in this city. So what could you possibly want me for?"
Yoongi's humor subsided, and he turned the radio down before moving to face you as well. His expression was serious but his eyes still held light. He reached over to brush back your hair so he could see your face in the scattered light from the projector. 
"I don't think attraction is ever really about those things. Not how someone looks or what they have to say, but how those things resonate with you. It's an elemental, a chemical thing. I just like you. Maybe that's why Hobi and Jin think we're fated mates."
"Fated mates?"
"I don't know. It's kind of…lykos folklore. Sort of what saps think of as soulmates. Like, it just feels right with someone, like you're linked to them even though there's no real reason. There's no proof that it's real. It's just a feeling I guess. But they say it only happens with alphas and omegas. And I don't think I believe it. I don't know if you feel that. But I do feel drawn to you in a way that I never have with anyone else. I don't even think attraction is the right word. I just feel like…I need to be with you."
Yoongi's eyes never left your face while he talked and you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stopped and you inhaled so you could answer him. "Maybe that's why my omega wants me to trust you even though everything else tells me not to. Like, I should be terrified of you, but I'm just not. I just want to be good so that I can stay."
You didn't know you were leaning toward him, nor were you fully aware of the words you spoke or how they made Yoongi's heart race, but when he brushed his fingers along your cheekbone you suddenly leaned back, blinking rapidly to regain your composure.
Yoongi coughed and pulled his hand away, reaching for candy to occupy his fingers. "I guess I should be honest with you about my intentions," he said with a shrug. "Because I know they aren't entirely altruistic."
You swallowed, but kept your eyes on him. His words made you nervous, but you'd hardly call it fear. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe it's a little dark. Or maybe all alphas feel this way. I always knew I was an alpha before presentation, because I always wanted people to depend on me. I always wanted to be in charge, to be a provider, to have the people in my life need me even more than they wanted me. In a way, the attraction I have, the love I have for the others, that's the unbelievable thing. With Jimin, with you, I felt from the first time I met each of you that you needed me. You wouldn't survive without me. And I liked that. Do you think that's kind of sick?" He wondered. You couldn't tell if he wanted an answer, or if he wanted you to be a little bit scared. But still you didn't feel it.
I don't think I will survive without you, your inner self echoed. 
You reached out to him, let your fingers graze the back of his hand. "I'm not sure. I'm not the best judge of what's normal and what's not. But it sounds right to me. I think to myself sometimes, I don't know how I've survived this long. I should be dead. Omegas…we aren't built to make it on our own. Sometimes it seemed like my death was right around the corner, but I don't feel that way anymore. The last two days have felt like the safest days of my whole life," you admitted. 
Yoongi's chest felt tight, like his heart would burst through his ribs if you kept talking. He turned his palm up so he could slot his fingers through yours. You sat in silence for a moment, letting him hold your hand while he tried to keep his breathing steady. 
"I don't understand why you're not pack alpha. Is it because Seokjin makes more money?" You wondered after a minute as you brushed back his chin length hair with your fingers. 
Yoongi chuckled. "If we're getting technical, Taehyung makes the most money in the pack."
Your eyes bulged in surprise. "But I thought Tae didn't work."
"He doesn't have a job in the strictest sense, but reclusive artists are often the most sought after. His paintings sell for a high price tag to collectors."
You hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe I picked the wrong alpha." 
Yoongi tugged on your hand playfully, making you giggle. "I always wanted to be a pack alpha. When I was younger I tried to establish my own pack but…it just wasn't right. I didn't have a lot to offer back then. I've never had Jin's resources. And then I met his pack, and I felt very comfortable with them. It was easy to fall in love with each of them so quickly. But they were already complete before me. I felt surprised they even wanted me. So I let go of that dream. It's been over five years now."
"But then you met Jimin, right? Did you think about starting a pack with him? On your own, I mean?"
Yoongi shrugged. "An alpha and a beta isn't much of a pack. You can make a pack without a beta, but without an omega? What's the point?" He looked at you through his eyelashes, but then quickly away. "Besides, Jimin and I both always wanted a big pack, and he clicked with Jungkook and Taehyung right away. It would have been selfish to take him away just because I wanted to be in charge."
"You're my pack alpha though," you murmured, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine. He could only nod. "Good."
He lets his eyes close and for a minute you just watch him breathe steadily, happy that he seems content with you. But as seconds slip by you begin to feel that it might not be enough. Maybe it was silly, but you felt so much closer to him after all you'd both said, and holding his hand wasn't physically close enough anymore.
"I'm kind of cold," you told him quietly, taking him from his thoughts. 
"I can turn on the heat," he offered, letting go of your hand and reaching for the ignition. 
"Or maybe you could just hold me?"
The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. He helped you move all the snacks to the backseat of the impala and moved closer so you met in the middle. You huddled into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you legs over his. You let out a quiet, happy sigh you hoped he didn't notice. 
"If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was say so," he whispered to the top of your head. 
You turned your face into his shoulder. "I'm working on it," you mumbled. 
He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails gently against your scalp. "You're doing great, princess."
You made a noise Yoongi wouldn't only describe as grumpy and turned your face up at him. "Why do you call me that?"
"Because that's what I want you to feel like. Because princesses have everything they need provided for. And because you're special just because you're you. But if you don't like it, I can call you something else."
You nestled into him again. "Well, when you put it like that."
Once again, Yoongi turned up the volume on the radio and you both at least pretended to pay attention. Although the movie in general was pretty innocuous, you took advantage of one lame jump scare to bury your face into his neck. Yoongi held his breath as you nosed at his scent gland, causing his light, happy scent to fill the car around you. He let you stay in his arms until the end of the movie, and although you didn't fall asleep, it was an easy mistake for him to make. He scratched teasingly at your side to rouse you when the screen went dark. 
"Are you ready to go home, princess?"
You tilted your head up to see his features illuminated by the lights of other cars as they made their exits. You'd practically forgotten that there was anyone else there. Your head nodded sleepily, and Yoongi reluctantly moved you over to your side of the seat. When he moved behind the steering wheel you moved back to the center seat and strapped in the seatbelt there so you could stay close to his warmth.
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No matter how old you get, the urge to stay up on a Saturday night always remains. Yoongi could tell by the soft footsteps moving about the second floor that the pack are just settling in for the night, brushing their teeth and for the most part discarding unnecessary items of clothing before staking their claim to their spots in the nest. Everyone was home for once, and they'd all sleep soundly. Even you. Even Yoongi, although he knew that it still wasn't time for you and him to share space for that activity. You climbed the stairs sleepily with Yoongi a few steps behind you, making sure you didn't slip as you swayed precariously. His hand went quickly to your hip, grabbing hold of the fabric there when you tripped over the top step. The noise brought Hoseok to the bedroom door.
"You didn't get her drunk, did you, alpha?" Hobi asked from the half open door. Yoongi rolled his eyes, because the omega knew that wasn't the plan.
"No, just sleepy," you yawned as you rubbed your eyes. 
Jimin squeezed past Hoseok to give you a goodnight hug. "You smell like you crawled out of an orange." He giggled, "apples and oranges."
Yoongi blushed while the two of you said your goodnights. 
"Do you need any help getting ready for bed?" Hobi asked softly. He'd helped you take apart your nest earlier today so that you could keep practicing. 
"No, I think I got it. And I have new pillows," you whispered happily.
"Okay then," he smiled back. "Yoongi, I'll see you in a minute," he said, and the instruction to your alpha was clear, just in case he didn't already know where he would be sleeping tonight. He closed the door and the two of you were cloaked in darkness except for a sliver of light from a lamp Hoseok left on for you in your room. 
"Are you going to tell them what I told you earlier?" You asked after a moment passed with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 
"I won't, if you don't want me too. But no one is going to judge you if you're–"
"No. I was just thinking it would be better if you did. That way I don't have to tell it six more times."
Yoongi nodded. It was a vulnerable thing you had shared, and it couldn't be easy to talk about with others. "I read once that if you talk about your trauma repeatedly, like you're telling a story, it can start to feel more like a thing that happened and not something that's still happening to you."
You cringed at the thought. "I think I'd still rather have you explain it. If you don't mind."
"Of course," he agreed easily, anything to make you more comfortable. 
"I had a good time tonight," you admitted after another quiet moment where neither of you seemed to want to leave. 
Yoongi's smile was becoming semi permanent. "I'm glad. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."
He took one step closer to you and leaned down to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head up in such a way that you caught his lips with your own. You froze in surprise, and even more shockingly, he didn't move away. Yoongi took another step into you, so your chests were just touching. His hand went around your back to keep you steady despite intensifying the angle of your kiss. Still, it remained chaste even as it went on. His lips were hot and soft and just slightly moist, but he seemed content to press his mouth just gently to yours for another moment longer. Then his lips finally left yours, he whispered his goodnight and disappeared into the pack bedroom. 
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😃😃 they kissed! Who wants to scream about it?
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promptedwordsmith · 2 months
Note
I have a request my birthday is on March 3 so can you write something with the LDS boys?!?
Hi, thanks for the ask! I wasn't sure what you wanted me to write since I've already done a birthday post so I hope you don't mind what I chose instead! Happy birthday!!
(ps I also gave Caleb a shot as an extra treat I hope that's OK!)
LADS guys when you get injured
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Rafayel:
Is furious but he’s not sure at who, you? The wanderer? Himself? He can’t believe it happened, it could have been so much worse, you could have died and what was he doing? Painting peacefully in his studio.
Is very clingy for the next few weeks, appearing at your door to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, and that’s after you had convinced him to not just sleep at your apartment.
When the doctor declares you fit to go back to work Rafayel refuses and makes you go for a second opinion, claiming the first is delusional, claiming you still had a slight limp and if you limped on the battlefield it could get you killed.
Claims he needs to nurse you back to health and he doesn’t tease you as much, he’s quite serious actually.
Tries to make you foods that are good for healing, three meals a day and thinks you don’t notice when he slips out to call the nutritionist he hired and collect the food from the chef.
Xavier:
Everything considered, he would give you the silent treatment while tenderly taking care of you, he’s supposed to be your partner at work and outside of work so why were you out there without him? If he had been there the wanderer wouldn’t have had even the slightest chance of hurting you like it did.
He’s constantly thinking about what could have happened and is more driven than ever to be there when you needed him.
When he did start talking to you again, he made sure to drill into your head how it made him feel for you to not even think of getting his help, that he understood you were strong and capable but that he was always available, he knows he could have made a difference and it’s never too safe to bring back up.
Makes sure you go to doctors’ appointments; he may not take proper care of himself, but everything be damned before he let you work yourself to death with this injury.
 Tries to make you food but quickly learns if he wants you to be stationary and comfortable, he should not even approach the kitchen, opting to order the healthiest takeaways he can, sulking a bit you don’t trust him with the oven.
Zayne:
As your doctor he’s startled when you appear with a large injury, but he’s instantly more comfortable when he finds its mainly just superficial, doesn’t stop him from lecturing you about how you could let that happen.
Makes you go through every test he can justify you getting to check there’s no poison or corruption or anything that could risk your life in anyway and pays special attention to your heart.
He’s now more concerned for your safety, especially about if this is going to be more common and starts researching wanderers and whether they were getting stronger or smarter to cause this, start keeping up with any news on wanderer evolution.
Schedules a few more appointments for you than is really necessary but since its large he justifies it as a higher chance of infection because of its location, even though he’s busy he just extends his working hours to see you in a professional capacity or if he can’t do that because of working laws he’ll come see you as soon as his shifts are over to check on it.
When he’s sure you’re healed he reluctantly signs you fit for duty and gives you a stern lecture about avoiding those types of injuries in the future.
Caleb:
Doesn't hear about it for a while because he's occupied by his job, but the second he does he's desperately calling you and texting you, all while booking time off, a flight back and buying you get well soon gifts.
As soon as he's home, he's giving you a big hug asking how you are, what happened, "what does the other guy look like?" in a teasing tone.
Promises he's sticking around for at least a week, preferably until you're feeling better though, and makes you all your favourite food while he's there, insisting you stay at your grandma's while you recover so they can both dote on you.
Let's you talk his ear off, spends the whole time reminiscing with you and doing things you did together when you were younger, just being more careful with you of course.
When you eel better and before he leaves he makes you promise not to get hurt again any time soon, and makes sure you know he'll tease you like crazy if you do, ruffling your hair before he goes.
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treasureofmammon · 4 months
Text
Undeniable fate
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Characters: Mammon x gn!reader
⚠️Warnings: Fluff, although there's some swearing; mentions of anger, gambling addiction, and mocking. Not recommended for very young audiences. The events in this text happen during the first chapters of OG.
Summary: You can't fall asleep without him, so you visit his room, unknownly to the day (and revelation) he had.
⏩️ Part 2: Undeniable love
Just a draft of nothing that I really liked...
✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️
—Lucifer... Did ya put' em under my protection knowing this?—
—I just knew it would be as good for them as it would be for you, Mammon...—
You slid into Mammon's bedroom, unable to get to sleep. Insomnia hitting you with all its might. And how could you, knowing that Mammon hasn't returned? You sigh, trying not to let yourself drift away into the deep waters of worry, trying to convince yourself that Mammon's gig might have extended and that he's happily milking the extra hours off the company he's doing this shooting for.
However, not having Mammon accompany you tonight, as usual, is affecting your sleep. When did he become part of your night routine? Did you always fall asleep feeling his presence around you? Comforting you with his expensive scent? Taking you by the hand while you dooze off? Guiding you with his hoarse voice to the land of dreams as you two watch a movie, read manga, or simply talk for hours?
So quietly, you sneak into his room and slide in his bedsheets, cover yourself with his duvet, and hug his pillows that smell so much like him. You surprise yourself thinking about Mammon when you hold onto his pillow, hoping it was his torso and not just a piece of fabric and cotton, hoping it was his slim figure, his well-built abs, his nice pajama shirt, or much better, his bare dark skin that you were feeling with your own hands. Maybe it's time you accept your feelings once and for all.
His smell, impregnated in the whole room, finally has the comforting effect on you that you were desperately seeking for, and as such, you feel your pretty eyelids struggle not to shut down. But you give in, finally able to escape the tiredness of a typical day in the Devildom.
How long it passed since you closed your eyes and fell fast asleep is difficult to tell, so when Mammon finds you in his room, his heart races faster than ever, threatening to free itself from the imprisonment of his chest. Mammon feels his gut fill with what can only be described as butterflies. The giddiness taking over his body, but he endures it, not giving in. The mix of feelings: happiness, surprise, love, lust, and adoration for you; all of them at once.
Mammon also gets in his bed in that cute pajama shirt that you envision him in. Gently, he replaces his pillow in your arms with himself, seeking the warmth of your body, trying to ease his emotions, and finally rest. After all, you too offer him calm and rest with your mere presence.
Mammon thinks about how long you might have been waiting for him and feels the guilt of his actions. Truth be told, he didn't want to come back home after work, afraid of his conversation in the morning with one of the witches he owns to. The evil woman, as a way of torturing him, had revealed him a vision she had:
—So, how's the Avatar of Greed holding up? Let me give you a piece of advice Mammon: you better be aware that you are in love with that human you keep at home...— with a poisonous tone of voice, mocking the demon about his undeniable fate, his well hidden feelings that he, himself, had yet to addressed. She continued —So much for a mighty demon that looks down on humans, that you, oh Great Mammon's soul mate is a very weak and average one—, she laughed.
Mammon felt a huge wave wash him over. A million things flooded his mind. He left immediately, not a single piece of grim delivered to the woman. She could live without it anyway.
That night, right after he came home, money completely spent in a casino that he visited after his gig, Mammon faced Lucifer. It was rare, but when he did, he usually had a good reason. At those moments of clarity, Lucifer secretly reminded himself why Mammon was his right hand and his trusted brother, and he couldn't help but quietly hear his younger brother's rant, usually reasonable. Lucifer felt proud of Mammon at those rare opportunities that quickly washed away as he surely returned to his reckless self in a matter of seconds.
This time, though, Mammon had barged in his office, not knocking the door, tears forming in the corner of his eyes and fury building up in his stomach. Lucifer simply looked up, his eyes meet Mammon's, and he listens, knowing this is not something that will quickly fade away as per usual.
He listens, more than once rushing Mammon to explain himself again and again; until, finally, Mammon drops a hurtful question:
—Lucifer... Did ya put' em under my protection knowing this?—, Mammon's voice is shaky, his hands in fists stressing at his sides.
—I just knew it would be as good for them as it would be for you, Mammon...— Lucifer responded, tranquil. —How could I possibly know something like that?—.
Mammon leaves his brother's office and rushes to his room. And Lucifer sighs, trying to keep a facade of stoic toughness, when, in fact, his heart shatters, divided between his obvious crush for you, mourning his one-sided love, and also, bracing himself, slowly preparing to loose his favorite brother to a human, again. Meanwhile, Mammon meets a sleeping you in his bed, finally giving in to his feelings for you, clear as day once he sees your face.
✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️
—Yeah, I love them... Fuck...—.
⏩️ Part 2: Undeniable love
[Notes: The characters depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me, meaning these are fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].
📌 Masterlist
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interesting-interludes · 10 months
Text
the comforts of creatures (5)
creature comforts:
↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being
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→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader
→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut
→ word count: 4.8k
→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.
→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion
→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol
past part ← series masterlist → next part
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part 5: scars and soothers
“This is you.”
The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.
You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.
When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.
The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.
A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.
Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.
You can’t speak.
You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.
No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.
A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.
The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.
“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”
“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”
Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.
You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.
Now you know why.
Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.
But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.
You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.
“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.
From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.
“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.
Your face scrunches in confusion.
“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.
You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.
Simple as that.
But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.
Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.
“They said...” you begin hesitantly.
They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.
“They said that they were monsters.”
Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.
“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”
They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.
Your stomach churns.
“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”
They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.
Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.
Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.
Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.
You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.
One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.
The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.
The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.
The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.
You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.
“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”
Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.
But how could you know that now?
They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.
Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.
For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.
Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.
All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.
Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.
Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.
Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.
Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.
Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.
Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.
He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”
As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.
Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.
Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.
“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”
Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.
“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”
Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.
All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.
Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.
Jin notices the signs immediately.
“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.
You don’t know what to do with yourself.
You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.
Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.
Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.
“Go ahead, let it out,”
You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.
“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”
Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.
“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.
The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.
He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.
For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.
“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.
The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.
“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.
The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.
It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.
You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.
The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.
The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.
Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.
Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.
“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”
The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.
“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.
It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?
You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.
You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.
Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.
When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.
Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.
The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.
You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.
He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.
This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.
The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.
“Shower or bath?” he asks.
It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.
Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.
They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.
You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.
Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.
They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.
Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.
You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.
Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.
You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.
Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.
So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.
The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.
Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.
You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.
The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.
Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.
Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.
Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.
Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.
Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.
“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?” 
Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.
His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.
On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.
When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.
There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.
Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.
He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.
You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.
Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.
What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.
They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.
He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.
A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.
A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.
Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.
“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”
They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.
Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.
“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”
Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.
Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.
He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.
“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.
He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.
You nod slightly.
It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”
Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.
Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.
They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.
The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”
Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.
Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.
Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.
“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.
“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.
“Is that okay?” he asks.
You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.
You nod.
Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.
“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”
You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.
It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.
Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.
You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.
Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.
“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”
You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.
Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.
He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.
Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.
When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.
Another breath releases from your lungs.
You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.
You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.
The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.
You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.
The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.
Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.
You know there are worse scars behind you.
Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.
It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.
You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.
You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.
A gentle knock on the door. 
You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.
Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.
“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”
You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.
You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.
Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.
“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.
You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.
It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.
“Much better, hmm?” he says.
You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room. 
It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.
Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.
They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.
Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.
“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”
Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.
The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.
“This should settle your stomach,” he says.
While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.
You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.
Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.
He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.
“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.
“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.
This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid. 
They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.
Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.
“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”
You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.
Jin enters your field of vision again.
“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.
But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.
“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”
You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.
One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.
You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.
The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely. 
Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.
You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down. 
You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.
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a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 3 months
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Hii love<3 i hope everything is fine🫂
So the other day i accompanied my brother to pick up my niece from kindergarten and she went out with a boy was he carrying her backpack, that was nice 🥹 but i also saw my brother almost have a heart attack because she is his little girl (that was funny lmao) i thought it would be nice - fun something like that with Jack🥹🫶🏻 you can take it if you want (no pressure only yesterday i remembered it while i was reading that petition where B was talking about Patrick)
Sending you lots of love and hope you are having a good week🫶🏻🫶🏻ily😙
Hi love! Thank you so much, I am doing well and I hope you are too! This idea is so cute, thank you for sending it in!
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'Are we good? I've got somewhere to be." Jack looked up from his phone at Nemo who was focused on the control board. "Your last verse was a little pitchy, wanna run it again?"
"I like pitchy, its my new sound." Jack joked as he checked the time on his phone, his leg jiggling up and down nervously.
Nemo gave Jack an incredulous look. "Man, what's going on with you? Any other time, if I called you pitchy you'd cuss me out and you've checked the time on your phone like five times in the last 10 minutes."
"He's got a date with his girl", Urban chuckled from his spot across the room. "Girl? I thought your wife was out of town", Nemo asked as he looked between the two of them. "My other girl, Liyah. Its just us this weekend so I'm gonna pick her up from pre-school and take her on a daddy-daughter date today."
A low rumble of "aws" echoed across the room, making Jack blush. "I can still take five minutes to cuss you out if ya'll don't stop", Jack warned as he got up and grabbed his things before heading out the studio, Nemo and Urban busting into laughter as soon as the door shut.
Luckily, Jack timed it just right so he was first in the carpool line with a perfect view of the door so he could see when Aaliyah came out. He answered a couple of work emails while he waited for school to end, jumping out of the car as soon as the bell rung to join the group of waiting parents. Jack rarely got a chance to pick the girls up from school, so he didn't recognize but a few parents he'd met when Aaliyah had a playdate, giving them quick waves hello.
"You must be Jack. Aaliyah talks about you all the time." Jack turned on his heels to acknowledge a voice behind him, coming into contact with a parent he knew he'd never met before. "Hi, I'm Sarah, Parker's mom." Jack took the extended handshake as he slid his phone in his back pocket. "Nice to meet you, Jack Harlow."
"Oh, I know all about you. Parker and Aaliyah have become good friends this year so I've heard all about your music career and how cool of a guy you are." Jack gave Sarah a gentle smile. "I guess paying your daughter does work after all", he said in jest, quickly backtracking when Sarah's face fell.
"I'm kidding, promise I don't pay my children to talk about my career", he bit at his bottom lip, wishing he hadn't made that joke. "Sure", she muttered, taking a step back.
Jack made a mental note to tell you to avoid Sarah in the future, quickly getting over his embarrassment as a bunch of kids came running out. He spotted Aaliyah within the busy crowd, her messy curls up in two ponytails, her face in that beautiful smile that reminded him of you. He took his eyes off of her for a second when he felt his phone buzz, checking his text messages in case it was work related.
"Daddy!" The smile that formed on Jack's face at the sound of Aaliyah's voice quickly turned into a scowl as he saw that she wasn't alone, holding the hand of a little boy her same height as they walked toward him. His breath hitched at the sight, his chest tightening as he tried to keep his composure. "Hi Daddy! Look, I colored you a picture!" She shook the pink construction paper in front of Jack, but he was to preoccupied trying to figure out who this boy was that was holding his precious baby girl's hand.
"Who's this, Liyah?" Jack dropped to his knees to be at eye level with his daughter, taking her backpack from her. "This is Parker! He's my boyfriend!" It took everything in Jack not to pass out on school grounds, his grip on her bag tightening. "Hi, Mr. Jack!", Parker answered, jumping up and down, swinging their arms between them.
"Hi, Parker", Jack mumbled, watching Sarah approach out of the corner of his eye. "Aren't they so cute? They think they're boyfriend and girlfriend", she chuckled, reaching out for Parker, who took her hand. "I wouldn't call it cute, but what do I know?", he gritted out between clenched teeth. Jack didn't mean to sound argumentative, but he sent off a pre-schooler to school this morning and he was picking up a teenager. "Alright baby, let's go." He gave Sarah a weak smile as he grabbed his daughter's hand.
"Bye Parker! I see you soon!" Aaliyah broke away from Jack to give Parker a hug before catching back up with him. "Yeah, bye Parker, see you never again." Jack mocked as they walked to the car, his face scrunched up in irritation.
****
"Baby, we need to find a new preschool for Aaliyah." Jack stroked his beard, his gaze focused on the ceiling. He had his phone rested on his chest as he laid in bed talking to you, the house quiet with Aaliyah asleep.
You chuckled, rolling your eyes, even though he couldn't see you. "Like hell we do, Jack. We were on a three year waiting list for that school. What happened?"
"Parker." Jack grumbled out, making you laugh out loud. "Ah, so you finally met Parker." That made Jack quickly shoot up. "You knew about him?"
"About your three year old daughters harmless little boyfriend? Yes, yes, I did." Jack scoffed, throwing himself back down on the pillows. "I don't know about harmless, baby. They were holding hands and everything."
"Jack, please, don't start. Liyah is only three years old, she thinks she's in love with every boy she meets because that's all she knows." The only thing Brooklyn and Aaliyah knew about love at a young age was from watching you and Jack, who even so many years later were still head over heels in love with each other. It set a great example, but they were both so young and didn't understand different types of relationships yet. "She sees the way we are around each other, and thinks that how you act with people you love."
"I guess", Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair, "it just made me realize she's not my baby anymore."
"Jack, you're getting way ahead of yourself. She is only three, she still needs you for pretty much everything, and she loves you so much more than she does anyone else, including her boyfriend." You threw that in knowing that would irritate him, hearing Jack shiver over the phone. "Stop using that word, please."
"Fine", you giggled, "but you still have plenty of years before you have to worry about any real boyfriends. Plus, I'm pretty sure Parker is your biggest fan."
"What does that say about me, that my biggest fan is a toddler?", Jack asked, but you chose to ignore his quip. "So we can stay at this school?"
"Yes, we can stay at this school. We do have to avoid Parker's mom, Sarah, though." That caught your attention. "Why? I like Sarah. We're on the PTO together."
Jack let out a nervous chuckle. "She may or may not think that we pay our daughters to talk about how good of a rapper I am."
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