#So he really is just like: Jason! 🥰

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Hi!!! Huge fan and I hope you had a good day in your part of the world💗💗💗

I was just reading ur period comfort fic with jay and was absolutely inspired with this idea for an (unequivocally self-indulgent) new fic:

what if reader has intense pain on their period (like can’t stand, can barely move, everything hurts/aches etc.) and goes nonverbal when the pain gets too much BUTT reader and jay had an argument before he went on patrol and so reader feels like they can’t call him because he’s still mad at them so reader just sticks it out miserably by themselves. only until jay asks oracle to check on your vitals (because he’s a cute little worry wart and still cares a lot🥰) and sees that you’re heart rate and breath rates are wildly irregular and he rushes home (fuck batman he can finish the job himself HIS BABY IS #1) and sees you bundled up in the covers curled in a ball crying. comfort, apologies, and making up and caretaking ensues!!!

i’m so sorry if this makes no sense or it isn’t something you’re comfortable with (your comfort is #1 bestie)!!!! Also, feel free to modify in any way!!!

SENDING KISSES AND LOVE💅🏾❤️

It makes good sense!! I have no problem writing this ✨

I hope yours is going good as well! It’s a very under weather day for me, so I apologize if this isn’t what you were expecting! ❤️

—

Time written - 1:27 a.m

Tags: Period. Slightly broody Jason. Special guest star menstruation crustacean.

Part 1 in reference

—

Being miserable chased you around like a damn disease today, doing lots of more harm than good.

The kind of pain that left you breathless. An agony so severe you find yourself apologizing to any God that listened, mentally screaming at your body to give you a damn break. It was a miracle how you managed to make it from the kitchen towards your bed, forgetting to get your charging phone from the couch.

Sure, you had your watch. Yes, you had a device nestled in your end table drawer used for emergency calls. Wayne-Tech, Batman related stuff.

You didn’t use it. Either you didn’t have the strength, or too hot-headed, you didn’t reach for a button.

You believed it wasn’t going to be as bad. The cramps you’d get about a week prior before you start weren’t as painful this time. This morning had such high hopes, such high promises for a good day.

It was too early to think too highly about it.

Your body believed it would be funny to fool you, forcing you into this pathetic, crippling state shortly around ten. Rarely would you start at night.

You would’ve thought the blame belonged to someone else, anyone else other than what you experienced now. It felt like your insides were being torn apart by devilish hands, nearly making you ponder the urge to scratch against your own abdomen.

The room was normally cool, but your body was terribly hot. A peculiar shiver brushing down your spine, your susceptible body curled up in a pitiful ball along the mattress.

The house was quiet and empty, save for your choked gasps as you son through this horrible pain. You craved comfort, more comfort than any warm blanket could provide.

The biggest comfort you quietly desired more than ever wasn’t here. It was a miracle that the front door still clung to it’s screwed up hinges after being recklessly slammed shut.

You two argued over cereal, over which take out to get from what restaurant, over celebrity crushes. His side eyes were as dangerous as his criminal bloodlust, but they were always done out of amusing intent.

This time was different. You couldn’t remember when it started, recalling when it ended was now a painfully dulled blur in the back of your head. The argument was nearly verbally severe, with enough yelling to rouse the worry of your neighbors. If they even cared.

No one really does in Gotham these days.

You lay in your pitiful slump in bed for what felt like hours. In your distress, you weren’t aware of your charging phone going off in the living room. Your screen bombarded with texts and still ringing phone calls.

One of Jason’s few reliefs he had was through a distasteful crook on patrols, as violence was a great distraction. On such a slow start, Red Hood was left stalking with his own thoughts, dealing with his temper all alone in the night’s silence.

Just because he was stubborn now, doesn’t mean that he didn’t have his moments of clarity once he caught a break. He sent you a reluctant, one worded sent text at first before rushing on. He couldn’t help but shake off this suspenseful feeling though, like a tense dissatisfaction on his tongue. Was it guilt? Was it shame?

Did he feel sorry for what he basically caused? Did he at least wanna attempt to own up to it?

After ten minutes, he sent another text. Again, he sends another after seven minutes, then another around three. You weren’t answering them at all, which was a little surprising. You believed you held a distasteful quirk about answering texts too fast, which was what Jason adored about you, responding to him in under five minutes. Or ten at most if you were busy.

It always let him know you were never bored of him.

This only made that suspenseful ball in his gut grow a little heavier, so he started to call.

After about three calls, still you didn’t answer. Now that hall grew hotter and hotter.

It makes the most obvious sense that you were still angry at him, but the least you could’ve done was pick up the phone and cussed him out before abruptly hanging up. Or at the very least send his calls to voicemail after a ring or two, but that wasn’t the case,

The longer he stared at his rumbling phone screen, the worse his anxiety began to grow. Soon enough, he couldn’t take it anymore.

The Bats had an auspicious way of knowing if him or anyone else didn’t keep up their patrol routine. Jason put off this thought many times, giving less of a fuck now as he rushed home.

“Where the hell is your phone??” Came his booming question once he enters the bedroom, noticeably breathing a bit heavy from his rushed pace.

Upon your failure to answer in your trembling state, cowering under your blankets, you hear his heavy boots quickly approach the side of the bed. Opening your teary eyes, you see two milky mask sockets staring you down, still clutching his own phone in hand.

Jason would’ve questioned you over how many times he’s had to call, over how many texts he sent. He could’ve, but he didn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice changed from roughly arrogant to gentle softness while pulling off his mask, relieving you of that annoying heavy breathing behind the barrier.

Because everything fucking hurts, asshole.

If you were still angry at him, it would’ve been a shouting match all over again. No, all that’s left now is physical and mental pain.

Without another word, he rummages through both your drawers looking for something. Cursing when he couldn’t find it, he turns towards the closet, reaching up ahead on the top shelves until he found what he was looking for.

He leaves the room, making your sensitive mind wonder if he had the gall to up and leave again. Especially knowing the debilitating state you were in.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The faint chime of the microwave echoed from the kitchen.

You wondered wrong.

Jason returns, pulling the blanket back just enough to expose your torso. Pulling up your shirt just enough, he proceeds to apply a warm, heavenly weighted plush stuffy along your tummy.

A chorus of euphoria washes of your tense body, your unknowingly clenched jaw finally relaxing. You whimper out in temporary relief at this beautiful sensation, the application of warmth promising a slow, eventual comfort that would easy your agonizing pain.

“When did you start?” He asks, but you don’t answer. More like you can’t, really.

“Can’t talk, huh?” His forehead slowly settles along your temple, exhaling through his nose. Pure blooded guilt mixed with cold hard sympathy in his system, making his heart beat heavily as he fully considers your pain.

“God, don’t pull an idiot move babe,” he murmurs against your cheek, his forehead settling along your head.

“That’s my job. You were right about that.”

You were stubborn, but not that hurtful towards the man you love. Unless he did something where it was really necessary.

Jason remained by your side until you were comfortable enough to sit up, never minding having to warm up the heating pad one more time. He doesn’t say much after his last words as he brings you a calorie rich snack and some pain medication, sitting idly by while opening a water bottle for you.

He gets you to a hot shower after the painkillers slowly prove they’re kicking in.

Fresh clothes were piled on the bathroom counter for you after the seething hot shower, consisting of one of his shirts and a pair of your old shorts you didn’t care much for.

Dinner, or an incredibly early breakfast, was one of your favorite cup noodles. Quick, hot and easy, so you could take a strong sleep medication and rest this horrible night away.

Jason by now was unbearably silent, too silent. Occasionally, he asked if you were okay or if the cup was too hot to hold while you slurped your noodles. Red Hood became a quiet, doting dog, keeping behind you as you shuffle to bed, still dressed in his gear.

It was only after you were settled back into bed in your much better state did Jason decide to finally relax, comfortable enough to take off his gear.

You were left watching as he turned around, pulling off his taunt, black shirt he wore under all that armor nearly every night. A faint hiss pushes through his nose as the fabric tugs on his freshly bandaged gash, just shy from his right shoulder blade.

“I didn’t mean it,” you exhale, tears dribbling over the bridge of your nose. “You’re not stupid, Jason. I didn’t mean it.”

He still keeps quiet, his head slightly turning as he acknowledges the pain you were still in. He doesn’t blame you for your anger, it just makes him feel more stupid for being mad at you.

He kept getting hurt, and you always took care of him. Sometimes, he kept getting hurt too much. You couldn’t help getting more and more worried for his safety while he chooses to shrug off the pain.

Now here he stood, with a wounded shoulder, wounded pride and a trembling girl needing his support now more than ever.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you did, sweetheart.” Jason sighs after crawling into bed beside you, making sure you remained ownership of all thick blankets.

“I’m sorry,” Jason whispers, peering down at you with sympathetic eyes. “I’ll try to be more careful.”

Your heart nearly melts then and there, a lingering stress vanishing from your mind for now. That’s all you asked for out of the entire argument from earlier. You knew his job was dangerous, but all you asked out of him was to be more cautious about his surroundings, to not be as reckless.

You could only help bandage and kiss his wounds so much. You never minded, but him coming home with at least three harsh gashes from possibly infectious blades put a toll on your hormonal stability.

“That’s all I wanted,” you gently say in return, accompanied with a soft sniffle.

Jason smiles before scooting just a little closer, proceeding to hold you with his good arm. A content cloud of warmth invaded your area, keeping you feeling calm and satisfied as your tired eyes mindlessly trail along his silvery autopsy scar.

“You can forgive me later,” He muffles against your cheek, lacing your skin with various gentle kisses. “Get some sleep, Hood’s gotcha now.”

You close your eyes, hiding the dramatic roll that proceeded shortly after.

“Also,” he piques in his murmur, a hint of cheekiness invading his tone of voice. “Kinda know of other ways to help with the pain.”

“Jason.” You groan with a light grimace.

He smirks a bit, only growing from the faint crinkle in your eyes and refrained smile. Just the reaction he wanted.

—

Had to throw this in 🦀

[feelingbat-ty]

Steph: OMG

Steph: WhAt ElSe HaVe We MisSed?!?!

Duke: omg Dick (RJD)! Dude your like a rip off RDJ

Dick: … I don’t know whether to be offended by that or not?

Steph: pfttt omg duke your so right

Steph: TJD - TIM

Steph: YOU SOUND LIKE A SHIT DJ

Steph: give it up for T!!!!!! J!!!!!! D!!!!! (Air horn sound)

Tim: fuck

Tim: what have I done?

Dick: Tim Quick! What are Dukes and Stephs initials???

Tim: DWT and SLB respectively (although NOT respectively cause I’ve lost all respect for you too!)

Cass: 💀🏋️👅

Dick: what does that even mean??

Cass: 🐞🐞🐞

Tim: she’s being cryptic on purpose 😑

Cass: Never 😇

Duke: Stephs initials kinda remind me of miraculous ladybug

Steph: DUKE

Steph: THE BETRAYALS COME FROM MY OWN HOUSE

Tim: YOU DONT LIVE HERE

Steph: NEITHER DO YOU

Duke: THERE ARE NO COMRADES IN LOVE AND WAR

Jason: THATS NOT HOW THE QUOTE GOES

Cass: 🐞🐞🐞

Duke: YEAH 🐞🐞🐞

Duke: TAKE THAT STEPH

Steph: 😭😭 I hate it here

Steph: you all suck Babs is my new favourite

Babs: please… don’t bring me into this

Cass: 🥹😭💔

Steph: Cass you started this!!!

Cass: 👹😡😛

Dick: guys… why do Jason’s initials (JPT) sort of sound like pspsps

Duke: please 😭 how did you come to that conclusion??

Dick: you sound it out really fast!! I swear! Try it

Steph: huh. I see what u mean

Tim: jptjptjpt

Steph: omg duke, tim

Steph: I dare one of you to follow Jason around and when he asks what tf you’re doing just go ‘jptjptjpt’

Dick: raise that stakes- use it to address him too

Dick: ‘Hey jpt what was that series you recommended??’

Steph: omg yes!!

Tim: wtf no!

Tim: I don’t have a death wish!

Steph: debatable

Tim: He tried to murder me once (and while we’re past that) I’m not keen to do that again!

Dick: please Tim, Jay wouldn’t kill you 🙄

Dick: he likes your tech support to much

Tim: wow… thanks dick

Dick: no problem Timmy! 🥰🥰🥰

Steph: Duke? I’ll give you twenty bucks.

Duke: …

Duke: deal.

Cass: *meme: he’d do anything for 20 bucks*

Dick: *old lady offended gasp* CASS

Steph: hahahhaaaha

Tim: omg steph you’re corrupting Cass! 😭

Cass: only best ways 🥰😛

Cass: and sometimes… I corrupt her 😏

Steph: mshixkwbdo

Dick: I did not need to know that 😭

Tim: honestly serves you right

Dick: What? Why?

Tim: Kory. Wally. Roy!

Dick: okay, pot

Tim: ???

Dick: Steph, Cassie, Darla, kon, Zoanne, Ariana, Bernard!!!

Jason: I’d hate to interrupt this slut shamming sesh

Jason: but why the fuck is Duke harassing me making these like

Jason: Pspssp sounds that are more like… jpt????

Steph: Do you not read the gc Jason???

Jason: why tf would I do that?

Jason: I keep you fuckers on mute outa principle

Jason: plus I tuned out after duke decimated that quote.

Dick: I’m like mortally wounded

Jason: cry about it.

Cass: 😄📵🤐😡😭🦇🫵

Jason: …

Jason: sorry Cass, you’re not on mute, I’d never do that to you

Cass: 🥰😄☺️🎉🥳

Jason: Anyway, who the fuck put duke up to that??

Tim: read the gc bitch

Jason: fuck u

Jason:

Jason: STEPH WHY

Steph: the ✨vibes✨

Jason: What does that even mean?? what if I like, killed Duke? Outa annoyance or smth

Steph: be for fucking real Jason. Dukes your favourite (aside from Cass but let’s be honest - she’s everyone’s favourite)

Cass: 🥰

Steph: You probably weren’t even really annoyed. Confused? Yeah, hence your here but u were mildly inconvenienced at worst.

Jason:

*Jason* has left the gc

Steph: fucking pussy

Oh. My. Gosh.

I just found out that Bruce Wayne's middle name is Thomas.

His initials are BTW. FREAKING BTW.

I'm just imagining that he wrote his initials down on something as a signature and Tim sees and just stares at him for a long moment before opening the family group chat

Tim: btw

Jason: by the way what?

Tim: btw, btw is Bruce's initials

Tim: none of us have figured this out before.

Tim: we have failed as detectives

[ficreadergirl]

Part-55 (Season 1 Finale) *Jason run to the roof breathlessly* Jason: Y/n! What happened? What's that so urgent?😳 Y/n: I can't do this anymore Jason. 😔 Jason: *all worried* Tell me what happened. 🙁 Y/n: They keep talking like that then I... 😔 Jason: Who talk? Like what? *loading his gun* Give me name love. 😠 Y/n: Dick... 😔 Jason: 😮 What did he say? Y/n: Not just him! They all keep saying we're in love! 😟 Jason: Oh... 😳 And you're sad cause you're n-- Y/n: Can we date? 😟 Jason: *gasp* W-w-what???? 😳 *blushes* Y/n: If that'll make them stop why don't we say we're dating? 😟 Jason: You mean like... faking it? 😳 Y/n: 🥺 *tries puppy eyes move which never worked before* Jason: How would we do it? (😍) Y/n: I don't know. Maybe like we did in cover mission? 🥺 Jason: 😳 *remembers how handy Y/n was* Uhm... maybe? (😍) Y/n: Really? 🥺 Jason: Yes, I think s-same as you. *tries all cool pose* (💞🥰😍) Y/n: *jumps on him and hug him* Thank you thank you thank you!!! 😄 ... *After made a deal, Jason & Y/n went to manor to tell others about started dating* Y/n: *before knocking door, stops Jason & hold his hand* We should be convincing. 😉 Jason: *gulps* Oh... okay. 🙂 (🥰) *After entering manor they see all batfam in there* Jason: Why everyone here? 🤨 Y/n: I-- Stephanie: *from across the room* AAHH!! Tim: What happened? 😮 Stephanie: They're holding hands!!! 🤩 All members: WHAT??? 😮 Bruce: *choked on his drink* 😲 Y/n: You freaked us out Steph. 🙄 Dick: *fell on his knees, starts crying* I waited for that moment so long. 😭 Jason: God... you're so embarrassing. 🙄 Barbara: So cute... 😍 Cass: Finally! 😄 Damian: It's suspicious such stubborn people like you to admit your feelings but... congrats. 😒 Duke: We all waited so much guys. You have no idea. Congrats 😃 Tim: Congrats 😄 Alfred: *looks like didn't buy it but still* Congratulations sweet children. I wish you best all time. 🙂 *After accepting all congrats fam starts drinking and partying. Jason & Y/n are on the corner, getting more drinks* Jason: We didn't have to say anything. 😄 Y/n: Damn... what the fucks wrong with Dick? Jason: He's always edgy about love stuff. 🙄 *2 of them burst into laughter* Dick: *seeing them laughing together* They're awasome! 😭😭😭 Steph: We should toast!! 😃 Barbara: Definitely agree! 😄 Duke: Then I bring Moët & Chandon!!! 😃 Bruce: Yes. This announcement deserve that much. 🙂 Cass: I'm so happy. Is it weird? 😄 Tim: No. We're all happy. 🙂 Dick: 😭 Bring juice for Damian Duke! *continues crying* Damian: And for you I guess Grayson. Tsk. 😒 *After glasses are full* Steph: Our cute new couple wanna say something? 😉 Y/n: ... no. 😐 Jason: ... 🤐 Dick: They're too shy!! 😭 Y/n: Someone stop him. 🙄 Bruce: Dick... you drink it first. C'mon. 🙄 *gives him his drink* Steph: Okay then... let's say Cheers!!! 🥂 *Everyone toast and drink their delicious champagne*

For other chapters click here

Y/n didn't even make puppy eyes 🥰 he'd say YES anyway...

[doevademe]

Prompt:

Percy: c'mon Jay, I wasn't that drunk last night. 🙄

Jason: you were flirting with Nico. 🤨

Percy: so? He's my boyfriend. 🤨😌😏🥰

Jason: you asked him if he was single and then cried when he said no.😑😮‍💨

(I am purposely ignoring canon, Jason is alive and happy :) )

Percy and alcohol didn't mix.

To start with, he absolutely hated the taste of beer. It was bitter and brought bad memories of Smelly Gabe. If he ever drank alcohol, it was one of those drinks that dudebros considered "girly". Cocktails so elegant and drenched in sugar and fruit juice that he couldn't taste the alcohol at all.

of course, that made it difficult to tell when he had enough, which was why he didn't drink unless it was a special occasion.

Like, say, Jason graduating from NRU with honors and getting a job in the mortal world.

Percy got drunk, because he always got drunk on Mai Tais and Sex on the Beach, but he usually just spouted some nonsense and laughed a lot.

He didn't know how much alcohol those cocktails had, but apparently he had made a fool of himself.

Even more than usual, which was surprising.

"Bro, you have to help me," Percy pleaded to Jason. "Why won't Nico talk to me?"

"Just give him some space," he said back. "After last night, I think he needs to cool off."

"It wasn't that bad," Percy said, acting as if he knew how bad it had actually been. "I wasn't that drunk, you know?"

"You hit on Nico," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Percy shrugged.

"There's nothing wrong with that," he said defensively. "He's my boyfriend! Flirting is natural."

"You asked him if he was single."

"I was just being⁠—"

"He said he wasn't, and you cried," Jason's exasperation made Percy remember some glimpses of last night. Nico had made the smae expression then. "Then you started crying to everyone you came across about how the prettiest guy at the party was taken."

Percy chuckled awkwardly.

"Okay, yeah, that is pretty cringy," he conceded. "But that doesn't explain why Nico's mad."

"That would be Jay's fault," Leo said, smirking as his best friend tried to make himself smaller. "Isn't that right, buddy?"

"We're not assigning blame here," he said a bit too quickly. Percy narrowed his eyes. "I was just trying to get him to stop crying!"

"What did you do?" Percy asked suspiciously. Leo's smile widened.

"My man over here tried reminding you that you were also taken," he said. "You told him you didn't care, because pretty guy was the love of your life."

Percy gasped as he saw Nico glaring at him. The image of him just leaving the party fresh on his mind.

If he didn't have a headache before (thank you Poseidon secondary powers), he would develop one now.

"Drunk me is an idiot," he said miserably. Leo just laughed at him.

"Drunk you is hilarious, you mean," he said. "My favorite thing was when you put a napkin over your head and pretended to know how to dance a bolero."

"Leo, stop that," Jason said sternly before turning to Percy. "Look, Nico's not that mad. He knows you were drunk, but..."

"But he's also embarrassed at what I did and said," Percy finished miserably. He looked at Jason. "Well, since you're responsible for this⁠—"

"I never said I was!"

"You're going to help me get Nico to forgive me," he said. Before he had the chance to get away, he grabbed Leo by the collar. "You too, as payment for entertaining you so much last night."

The edge to his voice made the son of Hephaestus laugh nervously.

"Heh, what's the plan, boss?"

Percy grinned.

"I'm wooing the prettiest guy at the party," he said simply. "Jason just needs to get Nico here in an hour while I freshen up. Meanwhile, you can help me with the cooking."

A candlelit dinner and a movie would be enough to show Nico how sorry he was.

Not that there was that much to forgive if one really thought about it. After all, the only person who made Percy forget his boyfriend was... his boyfriend.

[cambria-writes]

good morning! turns out i was a little too busy to post this yesterday so here we go!

i feel a little better about messing up the posting order lol. thank you for the comments and messages i really appreciate it. 🥰

lmao not me posting this at 6:30am while i'm at work

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader rating: M, each chapter rated individually warnings: vomiting, vecna appears, guns and related gun violence, jason carver exists, swearing as per usual, chekhov has a lot of guns, my brain's still a bit too addled so lmk if there's anything else! word count: 3,649

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫

There’s a second where you’re scared it didn’t work. You hear the beginnings of the can or hairspray exploding, even feel the heat of it on your feet. But then, just as you’re thinking that you’ve effectively just fucked the both of you over even worse than the bats could, there’s silence. 

You let go of Eddie’s shoulder and stumble back, sputtering through the blood spilling from your nose. You can’t see anything even when you open your eyes, bright spots covering most of your vision. Your ears ring so loudly you can’t hear Eddie at all; if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel the floor board vibrating faintly with his voice, you don’t think you’d be able to tell if he was there at all.

Despite the splinters catching in your fingers, you make your way to the edge of the wooden porch. Whatever was in your stomach spills down into the bushes. You feel Eddie next to you; hands brushing hair away from your face, running down your back, holding you by the shoulder to keep you from toppling down over the edge. There’s a second where you find yourself thankful for the fact that you haven’t really eaten anything solid recently; this would have been so much worse. 

When you sputter and spit in the bushes, Eddie pulls you up to sit and braces you against his chest. He wipes your nose and mouth with something you can hear him throw away. You’re still trying to blink the spots out of your eyes and gasp for breath. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you hear him whisper, holding your head against what you assume in his shoulder. “What, what was—are you okay?” 

Your tongue feels too thick in your mouth to articulate words properly, so you just groan in response. You fist a hand in his shirt and try to pull your legs under you. Your hands sting, your entire torso feels bruised and your head feels like it’s being fractured from the inside out. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, slowly petting the top of your head down your neck. “Take however long you need, you’re okay.” 

“No,” you croak, trying to push yourself away. Though you can’t see much, you’re not too blind as to miss the fact that there’s a car in front of the house. You can’t tell if the doors are open or not, but the headlights are still on. 

It’s definitely not any of you.

Without being able to articulate, you flail trying to get Eddie to look at the car. It takes him a second, but when you feel him turn his head, you also hear him swear. 

“Fuck, okay, shit. Stay here, I’ll—”

“No,” you repeat, more forcefully. “Hel—help me up. I can, I just need help.” When Eddie doesn’t move, you hit his chest with as much strength as you can muster. “Fuck, I said help me up.” 

He agrees, quietly, and obviously reluctant. And it’s a struggle for you just to stand. You know you probably should just stay outside and wait, but you have no idea if anyone else is coming, or who’s even here to begin with. 

With an arm under yours, Eddie shoves the front door open, and that’s when you hear the distinct sound of a struggle. You shove yourself away and stumble into the entryway wall, do your best to take a few deep breaths. 

“Lucas,” you breathe, and you wish you hadn’t ditched the switchblade. There’s a lot of things, right now, you wish you’d done differently. 

“Lucas!” Eddie shouts out, and just the force of his voice makes your vision swim. You swallow down the resurging nausea and push yourself off the wall. Faintly, you can hear Lucas’ panicked voice trying to talk to someone. 

“Fuck,” you groan, taking one last deep breath and clenching your teeth before launching yourself up the stairs. 

Significantly less fucked than you are, when you loose steam halfway up, Eddie grabs your hand and drags you with him. When you finally reach the end of the stairs—landing in the attic, you hope—Eddie stops you. There’s an arm curled protectively around your shoulders. 

“Liar!” 

“Is that fucking Carver?” you ask, and you stumble back with him when Eddie steps back. 

“He’s not lying, man,” Eddie says, and there’s an uncertain tremble in his voice. “Chrissy, your fucking—Andy, or whatever his name is, they were all cursed, possessed, that’s why Chrissy—”

“Shut up!” Jason shouts, and this time, when you try to blink away the fog, you can finally see most of what’s in front of you.

And it’s Jason Carver, eyes wide, with a god damn revolver pointed right at Eddie. Lucas is, blessedly, gripping your handgun in front of him, and in between the two, there’s Max. Cross-legged on the floor, eyes rolled back into her head. 

“You don’t—none of you knew Chrissy,” Jason spits through clenched teeth, and you can hear the gun rattle when he adjusts his hands around the grip. 

“That’s why she went to see Eddie,” Lucas tries again, desperate. “How could she have told you she was seeing things? What would you have done?” 

There’s more shouting; even in the state you’re in, you know there’s no reasoning with Jason. He’s too far gone. All the indoctrination, the panic, the grief. You know what that does to someone. You lived it. 

You’re entirely positive this is a bad idea. A horrible one. At best, you’ll probably be out for a few days. And at worst, well. 

You can probably heal yourself if you get shot, right? 

“Jason.” Your voice is low but steady. There’s a quality about it you don’t really recognize, like you’re hearing someone else’s voice, not yours. Eddie’s arm tightens around your shoulders, but you tap it twice to get him to let go. “Jason Carver, I need you to listen to me.” 

The gun shifts to you, and you can practically see down the barrel of it. You bite your tongue against the urge to laugh. It’s genuinely funny to you, knowing what’s been said about you, that this kid thinks that you could be intimidated by the threat of death.

“Why the hell would I listen to you, psycho?” He growls, takes a step toward you. 

“Because I don’t have a reason to lie,” you reply, holding your arms out and stepping away from Eddie. “You can aim and shoot that thing at me all you want, kid. Are you forgetting what got me in the hospital in the first place?”

“Don’t!” He shouts, tightening his grip on the gun. Lucas and Eddie both call out to you, but you ignore them. “Don’t fucking move.”

“Everything Lucas said is right, you know,” You continue, letting your arms fall back down to your sides. “Vecna, the other dimension, the monsters in there. You don’t think it’s weird, what’s been happening in Hawkins? You don’t think it’s weird how everything you’d heard about me rambling on about is being repeated by people who have nothing to do with me?” 

“That’s, that’s not,” Jason stutters, looking back and Lucas, down to Max, and back up to you. The gun lowers, just a little bit. “You’re all—you’re all in that, in that cult,” he spits out. 

“I’ve never been in Hellfire dude,” you say softly, taking another step forward. “I haven’t seen Eddie in years. I didn’t meet the other juniors until a few days ago. I told them everything about what’s been happening to me since Will Byers’ disappearance. And you know what?” The gun lowers again, just a bit. And, just a bit, Jason’s expression starts to soften. “They told me I was right.”

Lucas lunges for Jason, and Eddie knocks you to the floor from behind. You barely have the wherewithal to brace you fall with your hands, and this time your ears are ringing from a gunshot that passed maybe a little to close to your head. 

Lucas has Jason in a chokehold, and before you can react or do anything about it, Eddie rolls to his feet and rushes at Jason, too. You scramble for the gun when it gets knocked to the ground, pull the hammer back and point. 

“Give it up man, please,” Lucas begs, out of breath. “We’re just trying to save our friends.”

Jason starts to go on another rant when you hear Eddie mutter, “Fuck this,” and clocks the boy right in the jaw. He does limp against Lucas, who generously guides him down to the floor instead of dropping him like the dead weight that he is.

You limply hand Eddie the gun when you move between him and Lucas. You fall more than you kneel on Max’s right side and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Where’s her walkman?” You ask, looking up at Lucas. He turns his head to the ground a few feet behind him, and you find… you see broken plastic. Your heart jumps in your throat and you nod. “Fuck. Alright, okay. Okay, we’ll figure this out. She’ll be fine.” 

“Wait,” Eddie says, moving to crouch next to the broken walkman. He tosses a few broken pieces to the side and, miraculously, holds up a perfectly intact tape. 

“Go,” you say. “Go, go to the car, run!” 

“What do we do?” Lucas asks, kneeling by Max’s left side. “Is there anything we can do?” 

“I don’t know,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I’m not Eleven, I can’t do that—I can’t do the weird mind melding thing she does.” 

In the quiet between you, you can hear music coming from outside. Faintly, at first, and then loud enough to shake the floorboards under you. You’re not a huge Kate Bush fan, but there’s probably no one you wouldn’t have been absolutely overjoyed to hear right now. 

“Wait, you said you met El,” Lucas says, rushed and almost tripping over his words. “You saw her when she was doing the thing, can’t you do it again?” 

“Dude I was knocked the fuck out,” you explain, desperate. “That only happened cause she was already looking for you guys. I didn’t do anything.” 

Lucas swears under his breath and lets his head fall on Max’s shoulder. When you hear Carver groan on the floor, you groan and stand up. 

But your legs buckle under you and you end up sprawled on the floor. Lucas is the one who gets up and, with a quiet apology, makes his way over to pistol whip Jason in the face.

“Good night sweet prince,” you mutter, lightly hitting the wooden floor beneath you. Lucas quietly moves over to help you back up to your feet, and you wave him off once you’re steady enough. 

Eddie bounds up the stairs then, a very rough looking Erica right behind him. While Lucas rushes for his sister, Eddie immediately runs to you and grabs you by the shoulders. 

“Never do that again,” He says, sternly, shaking you a little. You try to blink away the dizziness when he does. “Never put yourself in front of a gun ever again.”

“No promises,” You mumble, bringing a hand up to your forehead. “Can I, I should. I need to sit down.”

When Eddie starts babbling at you—telling you what you did was stupid, never do that again, what the hell were you thinking standing in front of a kid with a gun—but you slap your hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

“I’m gon…” you try, tongue thick in your mouth again and eyes unfocused. “I’m fuh… I feel like I’m gonna pass out.” 

While Eddie guides you to a wall and eventually down in until you’re sat on the floor, you try your hardest to focus. Once you’re settled, Eddie moves to stand up. You hold onto his sleeve and pull as much as you can.

“Hey what—what’s up?” He asks, scooting a little closer when he crouches back down. When you gesture vaguely as something behind him, Eddie turns around for a second to look at you with a frown.

He gets up despite his confusion and points down at the broken pieces of the Walkman. You shake your head and shake your hand a bit, clear your throat before you speak.

“The jars,” you say, leaning sideways to try and look past Eddie. “The ones on the boxes, the spider jars.”

“Why do you want the spider jars?” Lucas asks, voice strained and both arms still around Max’s shoulders. 

“You’re arachnophobic,” Eddie adds, but walking back towards the stacked boxes anyways. “Is this—are you trying to get a material component?”

You grunt and look away. You can already feel the bubbling desire in both of them to yell at you and tell you to cut this shit out, that you’ve already done enough—and arguably too much—and that you need to rest. You’re worried, though. Scared, actually. You glance at Max, see the barely noticeable tremors going down her neck from the frantic movement of her rolled-back eyes. Something should have happened by now, you think. Either because of the music this blaring from the car outside, or from the other team’s attack on Vecna. But Max is still stuck, still cursed, and you know you don’t have it in you to be able to plane shift and stay conscious after that.

When you look back at Eddie, he’s got one of the jars in his hands, but he’s looking down at it with a strange expression. You think you understand it; you’ve seen that king of helplessness in the mirror before. When he quietly walks back over to you and leans down a bit, you grab the jar with one and and hold onto his wrist with the other. 

“Astral spell,” you answer quietly, biting at your lips when Eddie crouches down in front of you. He doesn’t pull his hand away. “I wanna know what’s going on, and I want to see if I can get myself In Between again.”

“Meeting up with the psychic girl?” You nod. Eddie closes his eyes and lets his head fall back with a sigh. “You’re not even gonna entertain the idea of not doing that right?”

“No.”

Another sigh. When Eddie brings his head back, he takes a second to make sure both your hands are wrapped firmly around the mason jar before leaning forward and resting his forehead on the crown of your head. His fingers tighten around yours. 

“Do you…?” 

Eddie’s question trails off, but you take a second to contemplate before answering. 

“Maybe, uh. Like. Hold my—“ You don’t have time to finish your answer before Eddie’s sitting cross-legged in front of you. You maneuver the jar around so you can keep one hand on it as it rests in your lap. Eddie hold your one hand in both of his.

“I’ll…” he starts, clearing his throat before patting your hand. “You got this.”

You can’t help but snort. When you look to Lucas over Eddie’s shoulder, you give him a short nod before closing your eyes. You stay like that for a second before cracking an eye open. 

“What’s uh, what’s the verbal component?”

Eddie sits there slack jawed for a second before turning to look at Lucas, who shares an equally deer-caught-in-headlights look. 

“We kind of just always wing it,” Lucas says, an edge of panic to his voice. “Eddie just gives us some random thing to say in Latin and we pass of fail if we can say it right.”

“Shit well alright,” you mutter, closing your eyes again and taking a deep breath. ‘Lemme just…”

You feel the difference in where you are before you hear it. Like someone pulling at an invisible string behind both your ears. You can feel the muscles in your neck contract. 

You didn’t do this. Whatever’s happening, it isn’t astral spell, and you’re not the one who initiated it. It is quiet, however, so you have a feeling you know what’s going on.

When you open your eyes, you’re not standing, like you were last time; you’re still sat cross legged. It takes you a second to register where you are, but when you finally look up you actually trip over yourself in your haste to get away. 

Because there’s Vecna, all strung up, in an endless black landscape. Your breathing speeds up and your heart starts to race. You startle when you hear a choked noise from behind you. When you whirl around you nearly topple over.

Steve, Nancy and Robin are all being held up at odd angles, like they’ve been stung up and tied to a wall.

“Oh god, no,” you whisper. You don’t know how much you can do, like this; a quick look around doesn’t magically reveal Eleven. You lose your eyes and swallow against the panic and try to get your breathing evened out.

Last time, things started to disappear in smoke, when El had to leave. Maybe… maybe it’s just like a dream. Maybe you just have to focus harder on what you want to see.

But when you open your eyes again, despite the fact that you’re very sure that you weren’t facing him before, your eyes once again set on Vecna. There’s a frantic almost-thought that passes in your head for just a fraction of a second. Something raw and feral and petrified, something that sends frozen sludge in your veins. 

You scowl and shake your head against the feeling. You close your eyes again and focus more intently. Try to recall her face, her hair, the colour of her eyes. The collar of the white shirt she was wearing. 

When you open your eyes again, ominously, you feel like you’re even closer to Vecna, despite not moving from your spot. 

“Fuck you,” you spit, taking several steps back. “Fuck you and your stupid, twisted little games. Fuck you and your fucking psychotic god damn lack of a coping mechanism,” you grit out. 

When you turn around, you don’t close your eyes, and stalk your way to the pinned trio. You can feel the muscles between your ribs shaking and your hands feel frozen. 

“Eleven!” You call out, as loudly as you can, voice cracking on the last consonant. You turn back to see if you’ve magically gotten closer to Vecna, again. You’re not entirely worried about his presence, but you’re also not entirely convinced that Protect From Evil extends to whatever this place is. 

You freeze when you see one of his fingers twitch, and nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand fall heavily on your shoulder. 

“What are you—“

“Oh thank god,” you breathe, grabbing eleven by the shoulders and pulling her in for a very quick but very firm hug before holding her at arms’ length. “They’re in trouble, Vecna—‘

‘I now,” Eleven says hurriedly, flicking her eyes to look past you to Vecna. “I’m going to help.”

You release her shoulders and move to stand by her side. “How, though? What can we do from here? We’re not even in the Upside Down, and I don’t—I can’t make it there again on my own.”

Eleven turns to look at you and there’s an odd mix of a confident smirk and vindictive set in her jaw. “Piggyback. Come on.”

When she grabs your hand and tugs you forward, you can’t help but resist a bit as you head directly for Vecna. You put your free arm up in defense, but as soon as you think you’re going to run into him, everything turns into mist again, before disappearing. Slowly, several feet ahead, another image forms. As the mist solidifies, you can see the scene clearly; Lucas, still clinging to Max, nervously babbling back and forth with Eddie, whose hands are now clutching both of yours, looking about a second away from crying. 

And then there’s you, again. Sitting peacefully against the attic wall, body limp and. Leaned up against Eddie.

El pulls you to sit on Max’s other side, but doesn’t let go of your hand. 

“We’re going to get to Vecna through Max,” she explains, an edge of pride in her voice, reaching out for Max’s shoulder. 

“Wait, what do we—“

“We don’t have time,” Eleven cuts you off, though she sounds calm. 

And before you can think much about anything else—about what you’re supposed to do if you can actually find Max in whatever cursed mindscape she’s stuck if, how you’re supposed to deal with Vecna at all—before wind howls from behind you. The harsh gust blows the lukewarm water on the ground up into mist, and the blackness around you feels to melt away. An eerie blue-gray glow takes its place, and the cloying smell of rotting flowers and iron seizes your lungs.

Eleven almost painfully tugs you behind her before you can even make sense of where you are. There are streamers, tables, stands… is this the gym?

“You.”

You snap your head forward grabbing onto Eleven’s arm. Vecna looks… horrible. Grotesque. His skin glistens with something, and vines slip and slide across his decayed, reddening flesh. Just the sight of him makes bile rise at the back of your throat. 

You think you could have tolerated the sight of him if he hadn’t been looking directly at you.

You don’t have a chance to react before Eleven shoots an arm out, and Vecna goes flying through the air, landing in the stands on the other side of the gym in a cloud and cacophony of dust and splinters. Tugging you along, she runs in the opposite directly of the now shattered stands. Eyes glued to the whole in the wood and wall beyond, you’re nearly knocked over when something barrels into you. 

You have never been happier to have a facefull of red hair before in your life.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@anothermunsonsimp @alovesongshewrote @averagestudent03 @doratheignora @storiesbyrhi

[supernaturalgirl20]

The Memory of Us

Pairings: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, mild smut, mentions of wedding and marriage.

Summary: As you walk down the aisle, Marcus can’t help but remember the day you met. The day a painting brought you both together.

A/N: this is a request by the lovely @alindeluce I hope you enjoy 😊

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Marcus stood facing the ocean, his brother Jason standing at his side. Today was the day you would become his wife. Mrs Pike. There was a time, after Theresa, that he thought this moment would never happen for him. Not again at least. He rubbed his hands down his slacks, wiping the sweat that was forming. He has never been happier, not with Lisa and certainly not with Lisbon, but that didn’t stop the nervous energy from flowing through him.

“It’s going to be ok Markie, no need to fret,” Jason says as he slaps his baby brother on the back.

“I know I just…I love her so much and I can’t help feeling like this is all a dream and I’m going to blink and it’ll be gone.”

“Not this time. Y/N is a good one and she is hopelessly in love with you, it’s sickening to be honest,” he says in a teasing tone as a smile spreads over his face.

“Thanks.”

The officiant stands under the floral arch and the music begins to play. Marcus’s breath falters as he hears crying and gasps of awe. Jason leans in, hand on Marcus’s shoulder, “she’s beautiful! You’re one lucky son of a bitch.”

He takes a deep breath before slowly turning and he stills. You’re breath-taking. You smile at the guests as you pass and when your eyes lock with his, he knows. His future appears before him, you and him, a home, children of your own, a family. He’s waited his whole life for you. You’re beautiful. A vintage wedding dress adorns your figure and he can’t help but smile at your subtle acknowledgement to how you met.

Two years earlier

Marcus was on some annual leave and had decided to head back to Texas to visit his parents. His mom had wanted to go to a flea market and he happily obliged. He loved these market, old fashioned trinkets, furniture and paintings that had stories to tell. His mom had wandered off immediately leaving him to his own devices. There were many beautiful pieces but nothing had caught his eye until he landed at the paintings section. His eyes roamed the many works until one in particular caught his eye.

It was a simple painting really, green fields surrounded by trees, flowers dotted about the place. What truly captivated him was the small river that flowed through it. Crystal blue water which reflected the clouds in the sky perfectly. Closing his eyes he could almost hear the sound of the running water, the grass blowing in the wind. He felt peaceful. Opening his eyes he knew this was meant for him, meant for his new house. He located the seller and as soon as he pointed to the painting, the man was shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry but that painting was just purchased by a young women. I have something similar if you’d like to see it?”

“No I…I was hoping for that one.”

He couldn’t help the look of disappointment that graced his features. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a woman appears beside him.

“I think I’m done, I’ll just take the painting if you dint mind.”

“No problem my dear, just bear with me a moment and I’ll have it wrapped.”

“Thank you.”

He couldn’t move, his breath had left his lungs and a blush began to creep up his neck. You were the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. You turn to him with a smile and he realizes he has just been standing there staring at you, like a creep.

“Did you buy a painting?”

“Eh…no…the uh…the one I wanted was bought by someone else.”

“Oh that’s a shame, which one was it?”

“It was the one with the green fields and…”

“The river running through it.”

“Yeah how did you know?” His eyes were focused on your beautiful face and he could see a slight blush as you stared at the ground before looking at him sheepishly.

“That’s the one I just bought. I’m sorry, if you really want it though I can let you have it, I don’t mind. It just reminded me of my childhood at my grandparents.”

God he jumped head first into relationships but he never believed in love at first sight. That is not until right now. You were willing to let him have it even though it reminded you of a childhood long forgotten. He shook his head and smiled at you, his eyes crinkling.

“That’s very kind but I couldn’t do that. Sounds like it was made for you.”

“Maybe it was made for both of us. You know faith, destiny whatever you want to call it. Maybe one day this will hang in our house.”

His eyebrows rise slightly at your words and his lips twitch as he tries to hold back a huge smile. He sees embarrassment take rot on your face and you scramble to leave.

“I can’t believe I just said that. I’m so sorry…that was really weird and creepy… don’t mind me. I…I better be going…bye.”

“No wait!”

You were gone, lost in the crowd and Marcus was startled when the man appeared beside him, paint in hand.

“Where did she go? Her painting!”

“Uh she just left. I’ll take it to her.” Grabbing the painting he makes his way through the crowd, eyes scanning for any sight of you. He’s slightly out of breath as he makes his way to the front of the market and there you are. He approaches you slowly and he can hear you muttering something.

“Stupid stupid stupid…god he probably thinks I’m an idiot…ugh why do I always do this…scare them away.” He smiles to himself at your words.

“Hey you forgot this,” he says holding up the wrapped painting.

“Oh god I completely forgot about it…thank you.”

“It’s no problem. Do you maybe want to grab a coffee?” You eyed him suspiciously before nodding your head.

“I’d like that.”

You walk side by side to the little coffee shop across from the market and he insists on buying. The whole time you both chat about your love for art and all things antique. Marcus is almost dreading that your time with him is up. Standing to leave he stops, hand on your wrist gently.

“Can I have your number?”

“You want my number? I…I didn’t scare you off with my speech earlier?”

“No…I actually think you may be right and who knows, maybe one day it will hang in our shared home.”

When he sees you smile up at him, your eyes sparkling and a slight blush on your cheeks, he knows. That he was meant to be here, thanks to a load of unused holiday days. That he was meant to bring his mom to the flea market. That faith or destiny had played a part in the two of you meeting. That the painting will definitely be hanging in your shared home one day.

Now

Who knew being newly married would reinvigorate your sex life. Marcus laid back, head buried into the soft pillow as you rode out your high above him.

“Ngh…that’s it baby…ride my cock…take what you need…so tight…made for me.” The headboard banged against the wall as you moved above him.

“Fuck…Marcus…I’m gonna…”

“Come baby…come all over my cock.” You both moan in pleasure as you climax together. You collapse on top of him as you both come down from your high. You slowly move off him and lay beside him, head resting on his chest.

“Think it worked?”

“I know it did. Soon there will be three of us,” he says, hand resting on your stomach.

“Oh shit,” he shouts as he covers your head. Your body shakes as you laugh hysterically, Marcus moving the painting off you both. He looks at it now, his fingers tracing the river.

“I’ll forever love this painting, it brought me to you.”

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @Hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @SpanishMossMagnolia @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @javierpinme@luxmundee @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @ezras-channel-rat @misspearly1 @writer-darling

[supernaturalgirl20]

Tough Love

Pairings: Omar Assarian x F!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, unprotected sex, violence, stalking, angst, almost death of a character, fluff.

Summary: You’ve been dating Omar for almost a year and things were going great despite his cocksure attitude. Your relationship is tested when you ex boyfriend makes an appearance. What you thought was a chance meeting turns out to be something much darker.

A/N: So this is my first time writing for Omar so thank you @colorlesswhispersunknown for requesting this fic and pushing me to do it. Also thank you @dornish-queen because not joking without your pedro videos I wouldn’t be able to write half my fics. 😘

Divider made by me 😁

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🥰

You would never get used to the smell, blood and sweat mixed together making you slightly nauseous, but you endured it for him. You loved him, not that he knows that. You would tell him eventually but Omar wasn’t into the whole soft romantic mushy stuff. Especially not in front of the boys.

Omar had a fight, a warm up so to speak and you came along for support. That and you wanted to tease the hell out of him. He abstained from sex a full two weeks before a fight, longer if his opponent was in the big leagues and it killed you. Being able to watch him train, showing off those ripped muscles and not be allowed to touch, he’ll on earth. Now you would get your own back.

Making your way into the gym you sway your hips as you go, the red dress clinging to your curves just right.

“Bro look, three o clock. Now that is some fine ass right there. You think I’d have a shot?”

Omar isn’t paying much attention trying to get into the zone.

“I bet that mouth of hers could be put to good use, no what I’m saying?”

“Would your three shut up!”

“Oh come on bro no way you wouldn’t tap that shit.”

“I wouldn’t I have my girl now.”

“Huh pussy. Not like she would know.”

“Yeah but I would, I…”

Omar finally spots who the guys are talking about and he sees red.

“Eh that’s my girl so you better keep them eyes on the ground or I’ll knock your lights out, ya here me?”

“Sorry man we didn’t know. You haven’t exactly introduced us, how were we to know.”

He steps out of the ring and walks towards you, his fists clenching and unclenching as he moves. His cock twitching in his pants begging to be inside you.

“Baby, what are you doin dressed liked that?”

Your lips quirk into a devilish smile, “what? You don’t like it?”

He pulls you close, grinding his hips against you and you can feel just how much he likes it.

“Baby girl you know I love that dress on you, I prefer it off you but.” You laugh before pulling him in for a searing kiss.

“Uh your gonna be death of me baby.”

“You love it.”

He kisses you again quickly before heading back to prep for the fight.

Omar was surrounded by adoring fans as the flash of cameras went off. You were so proud of him and would still have been had he lost. Standing at the back so he can have his moment your startled by a the feel of a hand wrapping around your waist. You turn quickly, ready to punch the fucker in the face when you let out a gasp, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Omar.

“Jason? Oh…..my god, what are you doing here?”

“Hey sunshine, you look…..gorgeous.”

“Oh….thank you I guess.” You feel a little awkward with him saying that, him being your ex and all. The relationship fell apart and you ended things two years ago.

“You into boxing now? Didn’t think this was your scene.”

“Yeah my boyfriend had his fight tonight.” Your anxiety quiets as you feel his presence behind you, his arm wrapping around you pulling you close.

“Hey baby, sorry about all that you ready to go?”

“Hi you must be the boyfriend, I’m Jason.”

Omar takes his offered hand and shakes it, squeezing it slightly.

“That’s me.”

There’s an awkward silence that you break by saying your goodbyes to Jason.

“It was nice seeing you, but we have to go. Bye”

“Yeah see ya around.”

Omar leans in as you both leave, his hand squeezing your ass just to prove a point to Jason.

“What was all that about?”

“He’s an ex, things didn’t end too well and it was me who broke it off.”

“Well your with me now baby girl and I need you so let’s head in back to mine.”

Water cascaded down your skin, over your peaked nipples as his hand gripped your hips tight. Omar pounded into you, two weeks of sexual frustration finally getting released. You gripped onto his back, legs wrapped around him, your body tingling the the aftermath of your last orgasm. Boxing was really helping with his stamina you thought as he hit that perfect spot. He pulls a nipple into his mouth and pinched it with his teeth, the pain of it sending you spiralling into your fourth orgasm. You cry out his name, your tight cunt clenching around him. He buries his head into your neck as he comes hard, spilling his seed all over your stomach.

“Fuck baby I needed that. So damn hard to not touch you for two weeks but fuck if it isn’t worth it when the sex is that hot.”

“Wanna do it again?”

“God your fucking perfect baby.”

A week later your walking around the grocery store when you feel someone watching you. Turning around you don’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary so you continue on. This continues like this for the next two weeks and your beginning to get freaked out. Your now getting flowers at work, which you know aren’t from Omar, not that he means too but he isn’t romantic. Then it’s letters, saying how your beautiful and that you’ll be mine one of these days. You’ve tried so hard to keep all this from Omar, he has to focus on his training and if he found out about this he would make it his mission to find them and kill them.

All that comes crashing down though when you start receiving calls at home. No one says anything when you pick up, it’s just heavy breathing or music in the background but you know it’s from them, whoever is following you. It gets too much one night when they ring nonstop, so you make your way over to Omar’s apartment in a state.

“Baby girl what a nice..”

You are shaking so he pulls you into him. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I…..they…..I’m…..scared Omar.”

“Hey slow down baby I’ve got you ok, you’re safe now.”

“Someone’s been following me, sending me flowers, creepy notes and now they know where I live and they’ve been ringing me nonstop.”

“Hey it’s ok. You know I won’t let anything happen to you right?”

You can’t speak so you just nod your head and hold him tighter. Omar is mumbling something and he pulls you back a little so you can look him in the eyes.

“I wanted to do this under different circumstances but I want you to move in with me.”

“What?!” Your completely stunned, the man hadn’t even said he loved you yet.

“Are you sure this is what you want though? Your not just asking me because I have a stalker?”

“No! I was really gonna ask next week in our one year anniversary but hell now is as good a time as any right?”

“Yes I’ll move in with you.” He pulls you into him again and you let the words slip from your mouth, “I love you.” He doesn’t say anything but you feel him stiffen beside you.

“The boys are heading out tonight we can meet up with them if you like? Maybe take your mind off it, at least for the night anyway.”

“Yeah I’d like that.”

The club is full tonight and the music is loud, it’s vibrations running right through you. After a round of shots Omar brings you into the dance floor and you both loose yourself to the music. Your grinding up on him, his hands rubbing all over you. Turning around in his arms you kiss him passionately, one of the boys coming up beside you whispering, “think you should get a room boss!” You both laugh as you continue to kiss. Pulling away you make your way to the bar trying to gain the barman’s attention when a hand touches your lower back. Thinking it’s Omar you lean into his touch until to turn to face him and it’s not Omar, it’s Jason.

His eyes rake over your form, his hand still firmly placed on your lower back and you can feel it getting lower.

“Your looking…..fine.” Your frantically looking around for Omar hoping you can make eye contact, but you can’t see him anywhere.

“Did you like the flowers I sent you?” Realisation dawns on you and you can feel his grip on you tighten. Your anxiety is through the roof now and you need to get away from him.

“They…..they were from you?”

“Hmm Hmm and the letter. I know your sorry for dumping me and it’s ok, I forgive you, I no I shouldn’t but I’ll make an exception for you sunshine.”

“Leg go of me! I’m with Omar now and I’m happy I don’t want…”

“Oh that idiot, he’s not good enough for you sunshine, no matter he won’t be a problem.”

Your frozen in fear and you can feel him lead you through the crowd towards the exit. You know you should pull away, scream for help, something but you just can’t.

“I told you you’d be mine soon.”

Omar is with the boys and notices you been gone a little too long.

“Who’s that with Y/N?”

“Bit too friendly with her if you ask me.”

Omar sees exactly what there talking about, he also notices the way you seem afraid. He stalks towards you, anger boiling beneath the service. Jason has you almost out the door when he reaches and grabs a hold of you, pulling you into him. He quietly asks if your ok and nod shake your head, tears beginning to fall from your eyes. This pushes him over the edge as he walks right up to Jason and gets right in his face.

“What the fuck do you think your doing it it’s my girl?”

“Ha your girl, Y/N is mine , always has been. Why don’t you just back off man.”

Omar laughs turning towards you before he swings his arm and punches Jason right in the face. Suddenly the boys come out of nowhere and you all end up outside in an alleyway. Omar continues to beat Jason up, when you finally come to your senses you move towards him begging him to stop. He doesn’t at first not until his eyes meet yours and he moves off Jason. You pull him into you and you can’t help the sobs that escape.

After Jason is taken to hospital you take Omar home and clean him up.

“I’m sorry I got a little carried away back there…”

“Thank you.”

He looks at you a little confused that your thanking him for loosing his cool.

“Jason was the one stalking me. You saved me baby.”

“That son of a bitch! If I’d known that I would have killed him. That asshole scared the women I love I’d put him…”

“What did you say?”

He goes stiff again just realising what exactly he said before his shoulders relax. He pulls you close and kisses you softly.

“I said the women I love.”

“You love me?”

“Course I do baby, have for a while.”

“I love you too.”

“As long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, this I promise.”

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