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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 4 months ago

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ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀ ғᴀʟsᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀ

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Summary : Your father is fed up with your shenanigans, so he arranges a marriage to Rome's famous general and gladiator, Marcus Acacius.

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage) SMUT, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Oral F and M, Implied age gap, Scars, Misogyny, Spitting, both give switch vibes,

A/n : I put a dub-con warning just because it is a forced/arranged marriage also ty and enjoy @multiversed-daydreamer for listening to me yap about this all day luv ya 💕

The table was set, lit, and ready for a feast. Grapes, wine, cheese, and meats lined the table. Being the daughter of a powerful general had its perks, not that you liked the kind of life you had. You understood you were privileged, your place in society clear. You knew that if it weren't for your father's position, you would probably be a slave to the hierarchy. But it didn't mean you had to like your life.

You were 18 and shockingly unmarried—not that you cared. You had more fun sneaking away to the parties that would happen late at night. You were happy for the fact you weren't tied down yet. The thrill of escaping your father's watchful eye and diving into the forbidden world of Rome's underground festivities made your heart race.

You had a reputation, one that was far from ladylike. Wild child, they called you, and you wore it like a badge of honor. You knew what sex was, what things happened in the dark corners of those parties, but you were still a virgin. Your knowledge came from observation, whispers, and the daring escapades you had witnessed, but you hadn't crossed that final threshold. Not yet.

Your father, a stern and formidable general, was a man who worked with gladiators and other powerful figures in Rome. His influence was vast, and his expectations were high. He had grown increasingly frustrated with you lately, and you couldn't quite understand why. His annoyance with your antics was palpable, but there was something more, something beneath the surface that gnawed at him.

As you sat there, wine goblet in hand, you sipped slowly, savoring the taste. You knew he would tell you to only have a single glass, a rule you delighted in bending. The door to the grand hall burst open, and there he was, your father, his expression a storm of irritation and something deeper, something darker.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the hall. "Drinking again?"

You looked up at him, feigning innocence. "Just a single glass, Father, as you always insist."

His eyes narrowed, and he crossed the room with swift, purposeful strides. "You think I don't know what you get up to, do you? Sneaking out, causing trouble. Do you have any idea how this reflects on me? On our family?"

You sighed, placing the goblet down. "I know, Father. But you can't keep me locked away forever. I'm not a child anymore."

He stood before you, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. "You're my daughter, and you will behave with the dignity and decorum befitting your station."

You met his gaze, unflinching. "And what if I don't want that life? What if I want to be free, to make my own choices?"

His frustration seemed to boil over, and for a moment, you thought he might explode. But then, he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You don't understand the dangers out there. The people I deal with—the gladiators, the politicians—they're not like the ones at your little parties. They're dangerous."

You softened slightly, sensing the genuine worry behind his anger. "Then tell me, Father. Explain why you're so frustrated lately. What aren't you telling me?"

He hesitated, the walls he had built around himself momentarily crumbling. "It's complicated," he finally said, his voice quieter. "There are threats... to our family, to our position. I'm trying to protect you, even if it doesn't seem like it."

You reached out, touching his arm. "I want to understand. Help me see what you see."

He looked down at your hand, then back at your face, a mixture of anger and sorrow in his eyes. "Maybe it's time you did," he said, his voice resigned. "But you must promise me, you'll be careful. This world is not as kind as you think."

You nodded, determination filling your chest. "I promise, Father. I'll be careful. But I won't be caged."

Your father's expression hardened once more, and the momentary softness disappeared. He sat down at the table, grabbing a handful of grapes and popping one into his mouth. "Enough. This isn't up for discussion," he snapped. "You are to be married."

Your heart plummeted. "Married? To whom?"

His eyes were cold as steel. "To a man who can protect you, who can secure our family's future."

You jumped to your feet, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. "No! I don't want to be married off like some piece of property. I won't do it!"

He towered over you, his presence suffocating. "You have no choice. This is for your own good."

"Who is it then?" you demanded, your voice rising in defiance. "Is it Lucius? That lecherous old man who can't keep his hands to himself?"

Your father shook his head, his jaw clenched. "No, not Lucius."

"Is it Gaius, then?" you asked, pacing around the table, barely noticing your father grabbing a slice of cheese and eating it with deliberate calmness. "The pompous fool who thinks he's the smartest man in Rome but can't even string a coherent sentence together without tripping over his own ego?"

"Not Gaius."

"Then it must be Quintus! The brute who only knows how to solve problems with his fists, who would treat me like a possession rather than a person."

"No, it isn't Quintus either," your father snapped, his patience wearing thin. He took a deep drink from his own goblet, trying to steady himself.

"Who then? Who could possibly be suitable in your eyes?" you spat, your desperation clear.

Your father took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's Marcus Acacius."

The name sent a jolt through you, and you took an involuntary step back. Marcus Acacius, a name whispered in both awe and fear throughout Rome. A man known for his prowess in the arena and his cunning outside it. A man with a reputation as cold and unyielding as stone.

"Marcus Acacius?" you echoed, disbelief coloring your tone. "You can't be serious. He's a gladiator, a killer."

"He's more than that," your father insisted. "He's powerful, respected, and capable of protecting you from the dangers you don't even know exist."

You shook your head, your mind reeling. "No, Father. You can't do this to me. I won't marry him."

"You will," he said firmly. "And you will do it for our family, for our future."

You felt the walls closing in, the life you had known slipping away. You slumped back into your chair, staring at the untouched food before you. "What if... what if I've already been with someone else?" you blurted out, hoping to find some way out of this nightmare.

Your father's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "Have you been taken by another lover?"

You hesitated, the lie heavy on your tongue, but the fear of his wrath kept you silent. "No," you finally admitted, defeated.

"Then it's settled," he said, the finality in his voice chilling. "You will marry Marcus Acacius, and you will do so with dignity."

Tears of frustration and anger welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. "I won't be happy, Father. Not with him, not with this life."

He reached out, a rare gesture of tenderness, and touched your cheek. "Happiness is a luxury we can't afford," he said softly. "But safety, security—that is something I can give you."

You pulled away, the weight of his decision crushing your spirit. "I don't want to be safe. I want to be free."

His hand fell to his side, and his eyes hardened once more. "Freedom is an illusion, my daughter. And you will learn that soon enough."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the grand hall, the weight of your impending marriage pressing down on you like a vice.

Rage bubbled up inside you, a seething mass of frustration and helplessness. The weight of your father's words pressed down on you like a heavy shroud, suffocating your spirit. With a sudden, violent motion, you swept your arm across the dining table, sending grapes, cheese, and meats crashing to the floor. The wine goblet toppled, spilling dark red liquid like blood across the pristine tablecloth.

Breathing heavily, you glared at the mess you had created, but it did nothing to alleviate the fury burning within you. Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the grand hall, your footsteps echoing through the marble corridors.

You reached your room, slamming the door behind you. The silence was oppressive, the walls closing in as your mind raced. You had to get out. You couldn't marry Marcus Acacius. You couldn't be trapped in a life you didn't choose, a life that would suffocate the very essence of who you were.

You paced the room, the dim light from the oil lamps casting flickering shadows on the walls. Your eyes darted around, searching for a solution, a way out of this nightmare. Your thoughts turned to your mother, a fleeting glimmer of hope piercing through the darkness.

Your mother had been sent to the countryside years ago, a decision made by your father to keep her safe from the political intrigue and danger that plagued Rome. She lived a quiet, secluded life on the family estate, far from the city's chaos. You hadn't seen her in years, but you knew she would help you if you could reach her.

It had been a month of plotting and planning, each day dragging on as your impending fate loomed ever closer. Today was your wedding day, the day your life would be sealed into a destiny you hadn’t chosen. Final preparations had been completed yesterday, and now you were meant to step into the role of a dutiful daughter and bride. You had woken up earlier than your maids would have roused you, knowing your father would want you to rest more so you appeared extra fresh for Marcus. Instead, your nerves had kept you up all night, the shadows on the walls morphing into ominous shapes as you thought of your future.

The first light of dawn crept through the narrow window, and you knew you couldn’t waste any more time. Your small bag, packed with bread, a few pieces of jewelry to sell, and the spending money your father occasionally gave you, lay hidden under the covers of your bed. The plan was simple: catch the slightest bit of rest before your handmaid came in to wake you, then escape before anyone noticed.

The door creaked open, and Lucia, your handmaid, entered with her usual gentle and serene presence. She glided to the window, pulling back the heavy curtains. Sunlight flooded the room, casting a warm glow that felt almost mocking given your circumstances. You sat up in bed, the light highlighting the bags under your eyes from a sleepless night.

"Good morning, my lady," she said dreamily, her voice like a lullaby. "The sun is shining so beautifully today. It's a perfect day for a wedding." She moved to your side, her hands deftly beginning to arrange your hair with practiced ease. You watched her reflection in the mirror, feeling a pang of guilt for the deception you were about to execute.

"Your dress is so beautiful, my lady. It's like a dream come true. You'll look like a goddess, a vision of perfection," Lucia continued, her words meant to comfort but only adding to your anxiety. The dress she spoke of hung in the corner, a symbol of the life you were being forced into.

You let her continue, her words a soothing balm against your churning thoughts. As she began to apply a light makeup, using berries to tint your lips and cheeks, you couldn't help but feel a sense of finality creeping in. "You'll be the envy of every woman in Rome," she continued, her voice full of admiration. "Marcus Acacius is a powerful man. You'll be safe with him."

Safe. The word echoed in your mind, tinged with bitterness. Safety was a cage, and you longed for freedom. Suddenly, you sat up, startling Lucia. "I need your dress," you blurted out, your voice urgent.

She looked at you, shocked and confused. "My dress, my lady? Why would you want my dress?" she asked, her hands frozen in mid-motion.

You gave her a reassuring smile, reaching under your bed to pull out a dress you had kept for a long time. It was a simple yet elegant gown, one she had always admired. "I have something for you," you said, handing her the dress. "I've seen how much you like it. Today, I want you to wear it and have fun. I just... I want to feel normal before the wedding."

Her eyes widened, and a smile of pure joy spread across her face. "Thank you, my lady. Thank you so much!" She looked at the dress, then back at you. "But what about you? Where will you be?"

You hesitated for a moment, crafting a believable lie. "I'll be eating breakfast with the soldiers. I need a moment to myself before the chaos begins."

She nodded, believing your words, and quickly changed into the dress you had given her. You watched as her usual plain attire was replaced by the elegant gown, the transformation bringing a genuine smile to your face despite the turmoil in your heart. "You look beautiful," you said, forcing a smile. "Now go, enjoy yourself."

Lucia beamed, her happiness palpable. "Thank you, my lady. I'll remember this day forever." She gave a small curtsy and hurried out, eager to enjoy the brief taste of luxury you had gifted her.

As soon as the door closed behind her, you sprang into action. Your heart pounded as you grabbed your small bag from under the covers and moved swiftly towards the door. The corridors of the castle were quiet, the early hour ensuring most were still in their beds. You moved with purpose, your sandals barely making a sound on the stone floors.

Every step you took was filled with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. You had never been so bold, and the risk was immense. If you were caught, the consequences would be severe, but you couldn't live a life that wasn't yours. The thought of being trapped in a loveless marriage with Marcus Acacius spurred you on.

You reached the courtyard, the cool morning air filling your lungs as you dashed towards the farthest end where the horse stables were located. The sound of hooves and the scent of hay greeted you as you approached, your eyes scanning for a suitable mount. Freedom was within reach, and your heart soared with the possibility.

But then, a familiar, stern voice cut through the morning air. "Where do you think you're going?"

You sprinted, your sandals slapping against the cobblestones as the guards closed in. Heart pounding, you reached the barn, your fingers fumbling with the latch. The sound of pursuing footsteps fueled your frantic efforts, and finally, the door swung open. You dashed inside, the scent of hay and horses enveloping you. There was no time to lose.

Without wasting a moment, you chose the newest and fastest horse, a powerful chestnut stallion that had always intimidated you with its raw strength. It was your only chance. Your hands shook as you grabbed its mane, your heart hammering in your chest. The stallion snorted, sensing your urgency. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

"Hyah!" you urged, kicking your heels against its sides. The stallion reared, its powerful muscles tensing beneath you, then surged forward, galloping towards the gates. The wind whipped through your hair, the thundering of hooves drowning out the shouts behind you.

The gate loomed ahead, freedom tantalizingly close. You leaned forward, urging the horse faster. As you rode, you navigated the narrow alleys and sharp turns of the castle grounds, the stallion's speed making every twist and turn feel like a life-or-death gamble. The guards were not far behind, their yells growing louder, but you kept pushing, your eyes fixed on the gate.

You had run from the guards before, slipping through their grasp with quick wits and nimble feet, but this was different. The stakes were higher, the danger more palpable. The horse beneath you was your only hope, its powerful strides eating up the distance between you and the gate. But it was also a wild, untamed force, difficult to control.

As you neared the gate, you saw it beginning to close. Panic surged through you. With a desperate cry, you urged the stallion faster. The ground seemed to blur beneath you, the world a whirl of motion and sound. The horse’s breath came in powerful snorts, its muscles straining with effort.

Just as you thought you might make it, the stallion stumbled on a loose cobblestone. You were flung from its back, the world spinning around you as you hit the ground hard. Pain shot through your body, your vision swimming with stars.

When you opened your eyes, the sky above was a brilliant blue, and the scent of earth and grass filled your nostrils. You groaned, trying to sit up, but a gentle hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Easy there," a deep, soothing voice said. You turned your head and found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of a stranger, his face handsome and strong, framed by dark curls. He knelt beside you, his touch gentle but firm.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

You blinked, trying to focus through the haze of pain and confusion. "Who... who are you?"

A small, enigmatic smile played on his lips. "My name is Marcus Acacius. And you must be my bride."

The revelation hit you like a bolt of lightning. This was the man you were meant to marry, the man you were running from. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw not the tyrant you had imagined, but a man filled with genuine concern and curiosity.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Marcus continued his voice a mix of authority and kindness. "It's dangerous. Let me help you."

The irony of the situation was almost too much to bear. You had been fleeing from your fate, only to run straight into its arms. As Marcus helped you to your feet, his hands strong and reassuring, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps your destiny was more complex than you had believed.

Marcus's strong arms guided you inside, each step a reluctant surrender to the fate you had been trying to escape. The castle's grand corridors, usually bustling with servants and courtiers, were eerily quiet in the early morning light. You were disoriented, the pain from your fall mingling with the turmoil of your thoughts.

As you entered your bedchamber, a familiar and unwelcome face greeted you. Aurelia, one of your father's maids and his well-known mistress, stood there with a smug expression. Her presence was a bitter reminder of your father's indiscretions and the fractured state of your family.

"Well, well," Aurelia purred, her voice dripping with condescension. "What a surprise to see you here, my lady. Running away on your wedding day? How very unbecoming of you."

You shot her a withering glare, your temper flaring. "Spare me your lectures, Aurelia. I'm not in the mood for your sanctimonious drivel."

Aurelia's smile widened, enjoying your discomfort. "You should be grateful for the match your father has arranged. Marcus Acacius is a powerful man. You could do far worse."

You clenched your fists, your anger barely contained. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify spreading your legs for my father? That you're doing it for power and security?"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she maintained her composure. "Watch your tongue, girl. You may not like me, but I'm here to make sure you fulfill your duty. Now sit down and let me get you ready."

Reluctantly, you sat down, feeling trapped and helpless. As Aurelia worked on your hair and makeup, her touch was firm and unyielding. Her presence was suffocating, her every word a reminder of the life you were being forced into.

"You think you can escape your destiny?" Aurelia continued, her tone dripping with disdain. "You're just a foolish girl. This marriage is your only chance at a future."

You bit back a retort, knowing it would only fuel her smug superiority. Instead, you focused on the mirror in front of you, watching as she applied the final touches to your appearance. The reflection staring back at you was almost unrecognizable—a vision of beauty and elegance, but one that felt like a mask hiding your true self.

Once Aurelia finished, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "There," she said, a note of satisfaction in her voice. "You look perfect. Ready to be a proper bride."

You stood, your heart heavy with dread. The grand hall awaited, filled with guests and the weight of expectation. As you made your way towards it, you felt the walls closing in, your fate sealed with every step.

The hall was decorated with lavish flowers and banners, the scent of incense filling the air. Guests whispered and watched as you entered, their eyes following your every move. At the far end, Marcus Acacius stood, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

The ceremony began with the priest’s voice, resonant and solemn, echoing through the hall. The guests fell into an expectant silence, the only sounds being the faint rustling of their silk garments and the distant clinking of goblets. The hall, lavishly adorned with ivy and flowers, seemed to shimmer with an almost otherworldly glow, casting shadows that danced like phantoms along the walls.

You stood at the altar, your heart pounding against your ribs like a trapped bird. The priest’s words, though intended to be a comfort, were like a dark incantation, each syllable wrapping around you tighter, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your fate. Your eyes flickered over to Marcus, standing with his back straight, his gaze unwavering. He looked every bit the powerful man he was rumored to be—tall, imposing, with a presence that commanded the room.

You recalled the whispers you had heard over the past months—the stories of Marcus Acacius. The tales were rife with speculation and fear, his name often mentioned in hushed tones. They spoke of a man whose ambition knew no bounds, whose cruelty was whispered about in every corner of Rome. Some said his eyes held a darkness that could see through to the soul, while others claimed he had a penchant for the macabre, often indulging in extravagant displays of power.

As the priest began the traditional vows, his voice a monotone murmur, you tried to focus, but the words blurred into a cacophony. "Do you, Marcus Acacius, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"

Marcus’s voice was steady, unwavering. "I do," he said, his tone deep and commanding, sending shivers down your spine.

When it was your turn, the words caught in your throat, your voice barely a whisper. "I... I do," you managed, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, the weight of your submission crushing your spirit.

The priest nodded, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

As the priest declared you bound by law and faith, the room erupted into applause, the sound a thunderclap that seemed to echo off the very stones of the castle. Marcus took your hand, his grip firm and unyielding, leading you down the aisle. The guests showered you with petals, their faces a blur of congratulations and forced smiles. You felt like a puppet, each step you took dictated by an invisible string.

The reception hall was a whirlwind of opulence, the air thick with the scent of spiced wine and roasting meats. Long tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous feasts, while musicians played melodies that mingled with the laughter and chatter of the guests. The hall’s high ceilings seemed to stretch into eternity, adorned with golden chandeliers that sparkled like stars.

You clung to the edge of the hall, the laughter and music a distant hum, your mind wandering back to the dark tales you had heard of Marcus. The rumors were impossible to ignore: they spoke of his ruthless ambition, his cold demeanor, and his unsettling fascination with power. Some said his parties were a mask for darker pursuits, where the line between pleasure and pain blurred into obscurity.

As Marcus moved through the crowd, his demeanor was that of a king—gracious yet commanding, his laughter rich and resonant. He was surrounded by his closest allies, men whose eyes gleamed with greed and ambition. They raised their goblets in his honor, their voices melding into a chorus of congratulatory toasts.

You stood near a heavy oak door, the cool stone beneath your fingers a reminder of the stark reality you now faced. The night was growing darker, the moonlight streaming through the tall windows casting an eerie glow on the festivities.

Suddenly, a hand gripped your arm, pulling you away from the door. It was one of the guards, his expression grave. "My lady, you mustn't go near that door. Your father has given strict orders. Any guard who aids your escape will be put to death."

You stared at him, a chill running down your spine. "What do you mean? You can’t be serious. There’s no way out of here. You’re all trapped too."

The guard’s eyes flickered with a mix of pity and resolve. "It’s true, my lady. Your father’s command is ironclad. He has spies everywhere. If you try to leave, he will know. And the consequences for anyone who helps you are severe."

A knot of fear and frustration tightened in your chest. "What do you expect me to do? Just stand here and pretend everything’s fine?"

He hesitated, his grip on your arm softening. "No, my lady. But perhaps you could find a way to make the best of this night. Try to speak to him, learn his intentions. There may be more to him than the rumors say."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, your mind spinning with the guard’s words. With a determined stride, you made your way through the crowd towards Marcus, who was leaning casually against a pillar, a goblet of wine in his hand. His eyes were slightly glazed from the alcohol, but his gaze sharpened as he saw you approaching.

"Marcus," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. "I wanted to thank you for your help earlier today. I... I appreciate it."

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You mean when you tried to flee?" His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it. "You have spirit, I'll give you that."

You forced a smile, trying to gauge his true nature. "I only wished for a moment of freedom. But I suppose that is behind us now."

Marcus took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours. "Freedom is a fleeting thing, my dear. But power... power is eternal. And together, we shall wield it."

Your stomach churned at his words, the rumors about him echoing in your mind. "Is that all you care about? Power?" you asked, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice.

His smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "You misunderstand me. Power is not an end, but a means. It ensures safety, prosperity, and control over one's destiny. Is that so terrible?"

You struggled to see past the image you had built of him. "I’ve heard things about you, Marcus. Dark things."

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent chills down your spine. "People fear what they do not understand. Let them talk. What matters is that I have the means to protect those I care about."

His words, though seemingly sincere, did little to quell your doubts. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your father’s voice boomed across the hall.

"Honored guests!" he called out, drawing everyone’s attention. "The hour grows late, and it is time for my daughter and her new husband to retire to their bedchamber."

A murmur of approval and knowing smiles rippled through the crowd. Your heart raced, a mixture of dread and resignation filling you. Marcus extended his hand to you, his grip firm and possessive as he led you through the throng of guests towards the grand staircase.

As you ascended the stairs, the weight of your future bore down on you. You glanced back once, seeing the guests' faces fade into the distance, their laughter and conversations becoming a dull roar. When you reached the door of the bedchamber, Marcus paused, turning to face you.

"This is just the beginning," he said, his voice low and intense. "We have much to learn about each other."

You swallowed hard, forcing a nod. "Yes, we do."

He opened the door, and you stepped inside, the room lit by the soft glow of candlelight. The bed, draped in rich fabrics, seemed to loom ominously in the center. Marcus closed the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding like a final seal on your fate.

As he moved closer, you felt a mix of fear and curiosity. This was the man you were now bound to, and despite the darkness that surrounded him, there was a part of you that longed to understand him, to find the truth beneath the rumors.

"Let's start anew," he said, his hand gently brushing your cheek. "Whatever you have heard, whatever you fear, put it aside. We are bound by more than words and vows. Let’s see where this path takes us."

You recoiled from his touch, your anger bubbling to the surface. "I'd rather fuck a pig than you," you spat, your voice dripping with venom. The shock on his face quickly morphed into a cold, calculating expression.

"You need to learn your place," Marcus hissed, his grip tightening on your arm. "You should consider yourself lucky to have me, especially with your reputation."

You glared at him, your temper flaring. "Lucky? Is that what you think this is? A blessing? I know what people say about you, Marcus. They call you ruthless, a monster. I'd rather die than be your plaything."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You speak so boldly for someone in such a precarious position. But let me make something clear: you are mine now. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you in line."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and defiance. "You can't control me. I'll never submit to you."

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Is that so? Tell me, my bride, are you truly a virgin, or have your wild antics already sullied you?"

The question caught you off guard, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "How dare you—"

"Answer me," he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. "Are you a virgin?"

You clenched your fists, refusing to be cowed. "Yes, I am," you snapped, your voice trembling with rage. "Not that it's any of your business."

He seemed taken aback for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he studied your face. "So, you are pure, despite everything. Interesting."

"You think you can just claim me like some prize?" you retorted, your voice rising. "I won't be your obedient little wife. I won't be another notch on your belt."

Marcus's expression hardened, his grip on your arm like iron. "You will be my wife, and you will learn to respect me. You don't know the first thing about power or survival. But you will."

"You don't scare me," you lied, your voice faltering slightly.

"Don't I?" he whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours. "You should be scared. But perhaps you're just too stubborn to realize it."

"Stubborn?" you scoffed. "Is that what you call it when someone refuses to bow to a tyrant?"

His eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you. But instead, he did something even more unexpected. He leaned in and kissed you, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce, passionate intensity.

You froze, your mind racing as his kiss deepened. There was a raw, undeniable heat between you, a clash of wills and desires. Your initial shock gave way to a whirlwind of emotions—anger, fear, curiosity, and something else you couldn't quite name.

As his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, you found yourself responding, your body betraying your mind. The kiss was a battle, each of you struggling for dominance, neither willing to yield.

When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your heart racing. His eyes were dark and intense, a storm of emotions swirling within them. You stared back at him, defiance and confusion mingling in your gaze, unsure of what to say or do next.

"I'm sorry," Marcus said, his voice unexpectedly soft. "I shouldn't have forced myself on you like that."

His words, so out of character, only fueled your anger further. "Sorry?" you scoffed, pushing him back slightly. "You think a simple apology will make up for everything? For the way you've treated me, for the way you think you can just claim me?"

His jaw clenched, but he didn't back down. "I know I can't make up for it. But perhaps... perhaps we can find a way to understand each other."

You were silent for a moment, then your eyes narrowed. "Understand each other?" you echoed, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is that what this is about? Understanding?"

A dark, reckless impulse surged within you. You grabbed him by the front of his tunic, pulling him closer. "You think you can control me?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. "You think you can just take what you want?"

Before he could respond, you pressed your lips to his again, this time with even more intensity. The kiss was fierce, a clash of wills and desires. You could feel the tension between you, the thin line between hate and something far more dangerous.

Marcus responded in kind, his hands gripping your waist with bruising force. The room seemed to spin as you lost yourself in the raw heat of the moment, your anger and frustration boiling over into something wild and unrestrained.

You broke the kiss, your breathing ragged. "You want me?" you demanded, your voice a low, challenging whisper. "Then take me."

His eyes blazed with desire and a hint of confusion. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Shut up," you snapped, pulling him closer. "No more talking. Just... take me."

With a growl, Marcus responded, his hands tearing at your clothes with a desperate urgency. You mirrored his actions, your fingers fumbling with the fastenings of his tunic. The fabric fell away, and you pressed your bodies together, the heat of his skin igniting a fire within you.

"You're infuriating," he muttered, his lips trailing down your neck.

"And you," you retorted, your hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, "are a tyrant."

He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your skin. "Then why are you doing this?"

"Because," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desire, "I hate you. And I need to feel something other than this... this helplessness."

He captured your lips again, his kiss searing and demanding. "I hate you too," he whispered against your mouth, his hands roaming your body. "But I can't resist you."

The world outside ceased to exist as you gave in to the storm between you. Clothes fell away, and you were left exposed, vulnerable yet defiant. You pushed him onto the bed, straddling him, your eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"You think you can control me?" you challenged, your voice breathless.

"I don't need to control you," Marcus replied, his hands gripping your hips. "I just need you."

Marcus brought his thumb to circle your clit, his rough touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You moaned slightly, your head falling back in bliss. His voice teased you, dripping with arrogance. "What, haven’t you touched yourself before?"

You gasped, grinding down against the hard length of his cock straddled between your legs. His smirk faltered at your audacity. "Of course I have," you retorted, your voice edged with defiance, a spark of rebellion lighting your eyes.

Marcus gripped your hips, lifting you off him with ease before moving to sit back against the headboard, his arms casually behind his head in a display of smug dominance. "You want the virgin to do all the work?" you taunted, your eyes narrowing in displeasure as you crawled closer.

His smirk returned, darker this time. "The virgin, huh? That's what I get to call you now?" He paused, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. "You're the one who's on me like a dog in heat."

You looked at him with a dark expression, sitting back on your thighs, your chest heaving with frustration and desire. With one hand, you began to caress his upper thigh, mimicking the movements you'd seen from the sex workers in your father's employ. Though inexperienced, you weren't ignorant; you'd read secret novels and asked questions of your father's mistresses. But nothing had prepared you for the raw reality of this moment.

"You know what to do?" he questioned a challenge in his eyes, his voice a low growl.

You didn't answer with words. Instead, you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick from the base of his cock to the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum on your tongue. The taste was oddly addictive. You wrapped your hand around his thick length, marveling at how it almost didn't fit in your grip. Steadying him, you licked the tip, eliciting a deep groan from him.

"Don't be shy," he patted your head condescendingly, his fingers tangling in your hair. Despite your nerves, you collected spit in your mouth and let it fall onto the tip of his cock, watching as he rubbed it around with a satisfied smirk.

You took the tip into your mouth, savoring the taste of his pre-cum, and groaned at the flavor. He moaned deeply as you sucked gently, guiding your head with his hand. You gagged slightly as you tried to take more of him in, your hand still gripping the base, your eyes watering with the effort.

"Spit on it," he commanded. You did as he asked, letting more saliva dribble onto his length. He patted your head again, a gesture both condescending and encouraging, and you resumed sucking, taking him deeper into your mouth. You gagged again, but he didn't let go, enjoying the sight of you struggling to accommodate his size.

"Come on," he urged, pulling you up to straddle his hips once more. You thought he was finally ready to take your virginity, the moment you'd both been building towards, but he surprised you. Gripping your hips with firm hands, he moved you so his face was between your thighs.

"What are you—" you began, but he cut you off, his lips attacking your clit with a fervor that stole your breath. He completed the arc with his tongue, taking your bud between his lips and sucking hard. You almost screamed, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Oh God," you moaned, your hands flying to his hair to steady yourself.

He paused for a moment, his dark eyes meeting yours with a predatory glint. "Marcus, baby… Marcus," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need and desperation.

He resumed his assault, his tongue and lips working in tandem to drive you wild. You began to grind against his mouth, the sensation too much to bear, yet not nearly enough. The tension built rapidly, your orgasm approaching with a force that took you by surprise.

"Marcus!" you cried out, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as your body tensed and then shattered into a million pieces. He held your hips firmly to his face, lapping up every drop of your release as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue.

You fell back onto the bed, spent and trembling, and he crawled over you, his face slick with your essence. "Well, well," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his features as he rubbed his cock against your still-sensitive pussy. "Are you all fucked out already?"

You managed a weak glare, but it melted into a moan as he pushed into you. The stretch was intense, making you claw at his shoulders for support. He kissed your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of fire as he pulled out slowly before thrusting back in deeply. You moaned at the sensation, your body arching to meet his every movement.

"You hear that?" His gruff voice asked, pulling you back to the present as his cock dragged from your cunt, pushing back in slowly. The squelch of him pushing deep inside you was loud, the sound of your arousal undeniable. You threw your head back, moaning his name.

"Yeah, you do," he muttered, his breath hot against your neck. His teeth grazed your delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Hear how wet you are?"

You opened your eyes slowly, your vision filled with the sight of him. His beautiful, sweat-covered face was close to yours, every scar and wrinkle telling a story, the grey in his beard adding to his rugged appeal. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your heart race.

A moan escaped your lips as his thrusts grew more desperate, more hungry. He caught your wrists together in one of his big hands, pressing them down into the mattress with a grip that left no room for escape. Your thighs were splayed wide, almost uncomfortably so, pressed down by the width of his hips. His cock was splitting you open, and you were so impossibly wet that you could hear it every time he pushed back into you, a lewd squelching sound that only seemed to spur him on.

He grinned wildly, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "You like that, don’t you?" he taunted, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Only I can make you this wet, make you submit so completely."

You could only moan in response, your body arching beneath him, every nerve ending on fire. "Marcus," you whimpered, the intense pleasure making you delirious. Your mind was a haze of sensation, every thrust sending you spiraling further into a world where only he existed.

His grin softened slightly, a hint of something almost tender in his eyes as he looked down at you. "That's right," he murmured, his voice a low growl. His thrusts were deep and relentless, each one driving home his dominance. "You're mine now."

You wanted to hate him, to deny the truth of his words, but with your body quivering beneath his, you knew he was right. You were his. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word claimed you, bound you to him in ways you had never imagined.

His pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined moans, the slap of skin against skin, and the wet, obscene noises of your coupling. His free hand roamed over your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in its wake.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can't get enough of you."

Your response was a garbled moan, your head thrown back in ecstasy. His words, his touch, everything about him overwhelmed you. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly, ready to snap.

He seemed to sense your impending release, his movements becoming even more deliberate, his thrusts hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again. "Come for me," he demanded, his voice rough with his own need. "Let go. I want to feel you."

The command sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a tidal wave, your body convulsing beneath him. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room, a testament to your surrender.

His weight pressed you into the mattress, his skin hot and slick against yours. You felt every throb of his heartbeat, every shudder of his breath. It was an intimacy you had never experienced before, raw and all-consuming.

As the waves of your shared climax ebbed, you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of his body. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath of passion.

As he lifted his head, his eyes met yours, filled with a complex mix of emotions. The intensity of his gaze made your heart flutter, but the softness in his expression was unexpected, almost tender.

"Well," he murmured, his voice low and taunting, "I guess the rumors were wrong. You're not a virgin after all." He paused, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, not anymore."

You felt a flush of anger rise within you. "And what if I wasn't? What difference would it make to you?"

He smirked, the familiar arrogance returning. "Just proves you're not as innocent as you pretend to be."

You pushed against his chest, forcing him to roll onto his side. "You're insufferable," you snapped, your breath still coming in short gasps. "You think you know everything, but you don't."

He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe not everything. But I know enough."

You glared at him, the heat between you not entirely dissipated. "You don't know anything about me."

His hand moved to your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin. "I know you're stronger than you think. And I know you feel something for me, whether you want to admit it or not."

You scoffed, turning your head away. "You're delusional."

"Am I?" He leaned in, his lips ghosting over your ear. "Or are you just afraid to admit it?"

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, a shiver running down your spine. "Get over yourself," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that made your insides twist. "I could say the same to you."

You pushed at him again, trying to create distance, but he caught your wrists, holding them against the mattress. "Let go," you demanded, struggling against his grip.

"Not until you admit it," he said, his voice soft but firm.

"Admit what?" you hissed, your anger flaring again.

"That you feel something for me," he said, his eyes boring into yours.

You glared at him, refusing to give in. "You're impossible."

He sighed, releasing your wrists and rolling onto his back. "Maybe I am. But so are you."

You lay there in silence for a moment, the tension between you thick and palpable. Despite everything, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him, the strange mix of hatred and desire that left you breathless and confused.

Finally, exhaustion began to creep in, your body heavy with the aftermath of your intense encounter. "This doesn't change anything," you said, your voice softer now, almost resigned.

"Maybe not," he agreed, his tone equally soft. "But it's a start."

You turned your head to look at him, finding his eyes already on you. "What do you want from me, Marcus?" you asked, the question hanging heavily in the air.

He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice a whisper. "But I want to find out."

You closed your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips. "I'm too tired to argue with you."

He chuckled softly, the sound surprisingly comforting. "Then don't. Just sleep."

You turned onto your side, your back to him, trying to create some semblance of space. The room was silent, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. You closed your eyes, willing sleep to come, but your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Despite your best efforts to maintain distance, you couldn't ignore the warmth radiating from Marcus's body, the solid presence of him beside you. There was a strange sense of comfort in his nearness, an unexpected feeling of safety that contrasted sharply with the chaos of your emotions.

As you lay there, the exhaustion from the night's events slowly began to overtake you. Your muscles relaxed, and your breathing grew steady and slow. You felt the mattress shift slightly as Marcus moved closer, his arm draping over your waist in a possessive yet gentle gesture.

For a moment, you considered shrugging him off, but the weariness was too much. Instead, you let yourself sink into the feeling of his arm around you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your back. It was oddly soothing, a stark reminder that despite the tumultuous start to your union, there was a potential for something more, something deeper.

"Goodnight," Marcus murmured softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You hesitated before responding, the word barely a whisper. "Goodnight."

PART 2

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chocum · 4 months ago

Note

yea tattoo artist choso but .. what abt tattoo artist geto

congrats on 1k btw!

eee thank youuuu 🙈🙈 i’m souuurrr happy you requested geto bc i’ve been wanting to write abt other characters. AND THISS got out of hand lollll ( 1.5k ) idk what came over me i just word vomited all over my phone… & it’s unedited

— tattooartist!geto x reader // mentions of smoking, m masterbation, fleshlight, cum eating, kinda pervy geto idk he tells reader to take her shirt off when she doesn’t need to so, nipple play, v in p, mentions of overstim, creampiee

suguru geto is one of the most, if not the most popular tattoo artists in your area�� hell, probably even farther than that. just to book an appointment, there’s a waitlist not including the months and months he’s already booked for. so when you finally get that confirmation email after waiting for what felt like years, you physically jump up, rushing to get ready and go to the parlor

“i don’t have anyone today under that name, sorry”

suguru pushes a strand of silk black hair behind his pierced ears, the dragon tattoo on his hand moving as he does so almost like it’s taunting you.

“what? i got an email today i just-” your hand reaches into your purse slacked over your shoulder to pull out your phone and prove your appointment was today, but when you go back to check, heat spreads across your cheeks faster than ever.

the date said next month

“ya had the right day i’ll give you that” and he’s laughing. not at you but because you’re cute, he thinks. pouting, growing hot from embarrassment. “i’ll tell you what..”

he leans in and you can smell the smoke that lingers on his breath mixing like some sort of love potion with his musky cologne, his pierced eyebrow quirking, browned eyes staring into yours with puffy lips wet from licking, “i can squeeze you in tomorrow. was supposed to have an off day but ill help a pretty girl like you out, how’s that sound?”

and you’ve never nodded faster. smile pulling at your glossed lips, drawing his to get trapped underneath his teeth.

“here i’ll give you my number, i’ll text you the time ‘n stuff later”

with that, you leave his parlor, your number scribbled on the back of some old receipt next to your name and a heart.

geto’s no better than a man. no better. he goes home that night and texts you as soon as he’s tucked into bed.

hey this is suguru btw.

your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and you smile at the notification. it almost felt unreal, someone who felt so unreachable, someone like geto in your phone, texting you first.

hey!

he catches himself smiling at the message too, his mind trailing back to seeing your pretty face when you walked into the parlor. the way you looked around doe-eyed like a little deer in headlights. looked innocent, and he liked that. maybe a little too much, his dick twitching against the fabric of his boxers.

he only talked to you for a few minutes. barely even held a conversation, but god did you look good. can’t blame him for getting like this.

what time is good for you? like i said, im supposed to be off but had no plans so any time is fine.

your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you think of what to say in response. you’re nervous. and if you knew he was jerking his cock, you’d be even more. his hand slowly .. very slowly rubbing his leaky tip, his head full, overflowing and bubbling with thoughts of you. what are you doing right now? are you in bed too? squeezing his warm balls, cupping them, teasing himself, imagining it’s your sweet little hands.

is 6 pm okay?

the little buzz drags him from his thoughts.

yea. see you then, pretty.

the simple little pet name makes you feel like you’re going to explode. so warm all over your body, and you wish you could just time travel to the next day and see him already.

geto brings the palm of his large hand to his face, lolling his tongue out to lick long stripes on it, shivering at the feeling of his own piercing before wrapping around the base of his thick cock, stroking himself only two times. this won’t do.

he reached for the pocket pussy he keeps nested deep in his drawer. leaning over to let spit fall and dribble into the clear toy before rubbing it on his tip.

groaning, “shiiiiittt” his hips bucking up as he slowly lets it sink down— body twitching at the feeling of all the little bumps and ridges massaging his sensitive cock.

“fu- fuck juuuust like that, mhhhm”

imagining he’s inside your tight little walls, squishing him like he’s meant for you, snug and tight like a puzzle piece.

his chest heaved with every snap of his wrist, spit sinking out and ringing out the base of his cock leaking down to his heavy balls, “feel so fucking good baby”

so fast he’s already shooting into the toy, whining because it’s not you. wishing it was you, your warm walls probably feel so much better. probably sound so cute taking him from behind or from the front, your eyes locked onto his.

he came so much it’s leaking all over himself. so messy and dirty and he brings the toy up and licks it all out, shoving his tongue inside the rubbery walls to flick and clean it up.

“shit”

the next day came too slowly. to you but especially to suguru. he went to the parlor an hour earlier to open and tidy up, pulling his raven locs into a ponytail, letting a few stray strands fall and frame his face, counting each and every second.

and then he hears it. the little ding as the door opens, you push it open smiling up at him as you walk through and you look even better than he remembered. and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure.

he nods at you, giving you a small smile, “so what did you want to get, and where?”

at your reply he freezes, his hands almost crumbling up the paperwork he reached for you to fill out — “my chest”

“your chest?”

he parrots you. then he repeats it in his head a few more times. picturing you pull your little top up.

he can tell you’re not wearing a bra with how your nipples perk up and poke through the flimsy, almost see-through fabric.

you nod your head, mhm sounding and bubbling past your lips.

god, you’re going to be the death of him.

after you finish with all the paperwork, he pulls you into the back making small talk asking about your day. and you indulge, asking back, finding comfort in the normality of your conversation. he’s different from what people painted him out to be and you felt relaxed in his presence.

even more when he offers you a seat, cleaning it off before slipping on some black gloves. his hands almost bulge out, his knuckles poking through the latex.

“can i see the design?”

you pull up the picture on your phone and he hums, “and you said your chest, right?”

again he repeats it, almost as if it’s a mantra he’s using to calm his nerves. calm his dick.

you just nod, “do i need to take my shirt off?”

and well no you don’t, not yet at least, but he says yes, reaching forward to do it for you because he’s just so sweet, right? so nice and caring, and welcoming.

and he only wraps his lips around your tits to soothe you, right? sucking, letting his teeth sink into the buds, the silver ball tracing over them. his other glove-clad hand cupping them.

sinks his cock into you just cause he wants to take care of you, right? he could tell you wanted it soo bad. your thighs pressing together so tightly when he pressed his lips against your chest with a soft, “suguru please”

“mhm let me take care of you, pretty girl, spread em, hold yourself open f’me— uh huh, juuust like that.”

your little arms shake and tremble, hooking around the back of your knees as he pushes into your tight cunt. and fuck, he was right. feels so much better than his toy.

“fuuuckk found your spot, baby, ‘s right there? yeah feel good right there?” he rolls his hips up, brushing against that spot, his thick tip kissing it, making your body twitch.

“yes— fuck yes feels so good”

right about you sounding so fucking good too— his cock twitching inside the solitude of your pretty slimy walls. shivering at how you suck and milk him so well, so tight and warm. so fucking warm. feels so good he’s already close, but he wants to keep making you feel good, keep hearing you, and if he was to fuck his cum into you, overstimulating his needy cock to do that, then so be it.

“inside” you whine out at how he twitches, his stokes sputtering and faltering as he languidly pushing into your sopping pussy, leaking all over him, so wet.

“ohh — fuck ohfuck” and it pushes him over the edge, bottoming out to overfill you, make you nice and creamy ‘cause you deserve it. deserve it for being so good, making him feel so good.

letting his head fall onto your shoulder sweat sprinkling his forehead as he empties himself for you. for your pretty pussy, all for you.

#ᝰ.ᐟ — so’s diary #geto suguru #jjk suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x reader smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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hioriri · 7 months ago

Text

-gift-

featured character ☆ reo mikage

tag(s): fluff ☆

divider @cafekitsune

༊*·˚

You sigh as you walk back home from school. It was a lot colder than usual and you hated it. Nothing's better than having a bad day and it's freezing cold outside. Great. Despite the fact that in winter, you simply wear a uniform, a black skirt, and extremely thin black tights every year. Each and every single day, nothing was interesting anymore. School was equally boring every day. Most subjects are taught by the teachers you highly dislike, except for music and art. To sum it all up, you have no friends. Reo, who was basically your one and only friend, (soon became lovers) left to go to Blue Lock. Who knows when he'll be back? After all, without Reo, your life has suddenly became monochrome.

As you finally arrived back to your apartment suite, you noticed a huge brown box lying by the front of your door porch. Obviously, you were very puzzled by this. Who would randomly leave a humongous brown box? You couldn't simply leave this... gift(?) by your door. Seriously, it was extremely heavy to even drag it inside your "house" but you had to manage. It took around fifteen minutes or so to push that huge box in your house. Now, you stood there thinking.

Maybe it won't hurt to open this?

Your hands trembled, a sign of being hesitant. Suddenly, your phone gets a notification; It was Reo.

༊*·˚ -Reo: y/n, did you receive my gift yet?

-Y/n: gift?

-Reo: yea, the brown box

-Y/n: u mean the humongous brown box that i couldnt even manage to drag it inside my house?

-Reo: uhhh perhaps

-Y/n: WHY DID YOU GIVE ME SUCH A BIG GIFT???????????

-Reo: why not?

-Reo: anyways im outside right now

-Y/n: ??

-Y/n: WAIT WHAT?????

-Y/n: OUTSIDE?????

-Y/n: REO ANSWER ME

༊*·˚

You waited a few minutes for Reo to reply but supposedly, he's not going to reply sooner or later. Finally, no more thoughts. Reo said he was outside so surely he's telling the truth. You just had to go down even though you were only in your pajamas. You quickly climbed down the stairs as fast as you could. Sure, you roughly tripped on a few steps and almost died but that's not the matter right now. As soon as you stepped outside, Reo was there right in front of you. There was still some distance but close enough for you run into his arms. He was holding a fancy, but cute (and quite big) bouquet with a variety of different colorful, fragrant flowers. Reo was wearing some casual clothes, that's no surprise. "Reo!" you jumped on him and he hugged you tightly, almost tripping and dropping the big colorful bouquet of flowers on the ground. "Y/n!" Reo was so happy, he laughed, he had tears in his eyes, his heart could definitely burst at any moment. He must have been so happy and excited to see you after so long. Your heart could have also exploded at any moment too. Sudden small teardrops streamed down your cheeks and you quickly bury your face in Reo's shoulder, feeling a little embarrassed. A very muffled "I missed you so much..." came out of your mouth. Once your tears stopped, the two of you headed back to your apartment suite.

༊*·˚

Reo poured some water in a kettle, then placed it on top of a stove. "Wait Reo, I can make tea-" "No, it's fine." Reo commented. Once the water started boiling and made an extremely high-pitched whistling sound, he removed the shiny silver kettle from the stove and carefully poured the piping hot water in two mugs with a teabag in each cup then handed you the white ceramic mug with tea to you. "Thank you." you smiled. The two of you sat on the comfy navy blue sofa, right in front of you two was the gift Reo delivered to you. The two of you were awkwardly staring at it until Reo finally decided to say something:

"Well? Open it, Y/n!" he smiled and had an extremely enthusiastic but happy, and excited tone.

You tried ripping the clear tape that sealed the box but you struggled too much and so, had to use a box cutter in the end. Inside the box had seven regular sized light brown teddy bears and a ton of stationary that could probably last you until you were ninety years old. Burried under the seven brown teddy bears and the stationary haul, there was a small box that looked like something from a jewlery store. Very carefully, you opened it and saw a silver necklace. Shocked, you glanced at Reo and saw that he also had a silver ornemental chain dangling on his neck too. "Thank you Reo!" you thanked him but you also had no idea that your cheeks were flushed pink, all the way to your ears. Once again, that urge to just burst out in tears again. Reo wrapped his arms around you and gave you a peck on the forehead. You made up your mind, telling Reo about how life was so boring without him. The two of you laughed, the two of you cried.

༊*·˚

Both you and Reo were snuggling in bed, binge watching Detective Conan. Later on, perhaps after 8-9 episodes or so you fell asleep on his shoulder. Reo noticed that you had fallen asleep. He turned off the TV and just stared at you in awe for a few seconds. He then gently kissed your forehead and a few minutes later, dozed off.

unfortunately, reo isn't real... sobs in disappointment

thanks for reading :3

©fuyukohasnocreativity do not copy, repost, or translate. likes and reblogs are accepted and appreciated!

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absurdthirst · 7 months ago

Text

One Night in St. John's {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.3k

Warnings: Alcohol/drug use, infidelity, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, regret, abusive relationships, emotional/physical abuse, isolation, baby trapping, domestic violence, threats of death, weapons, drugging, hostage situation, death by gun violence, PTS, shock, therapy, confessions, oral sex (male receiving)

Comments: Drunk and high, you and Frankie give into the desires you've kept hidden from one another. One night in St. John's, one brief moment in time in each other's arms. You go back to your lives, sure that it's causing Frankie to pull away from your team even more, but there's a more sinister and heartbreaking reason.

A/N: Domestic violence/abuse comes in all shapes, sizes and genders. If reading about an abusive relationship would be triggering, please do not read.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your nerves are shot, hands shaking, your entire body shaking as you sit under the hot water as the dirt and blood swirls down the drain. You’re alive, although you could have been like Tom, wrapped up in a blanket and carried out from the mountains where he had been killed. You had carried his body, cried and grieved, now alone with your thoughts and they aren’t exactly the happiest. Lonely and hurt, you try to ignore the baggie you had in your bag, now sitting on the table out in your room. Trying to resist snorting the fine white powder to manage the pain, to forget. Salty tears mix with the water as you cry in your first shower since you had tried to steal from Lorea and had ended up running for your lives.

Frankie sighs as he puts the phone down on the nightstand. He’d just spoken to Darcy who let him speak to Ava. The ten month old has no idea what he’s saying but he had to speak to his daughter. He had to speak to her after nearly fucking dying, after Tom died. He rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his damp hair, feeling antsy and like a caged lion. He needs to get out of this damn room. He gets dressed and makes his way down to the hotel bar, ordering a whiskey as soon as he’s sitting down and he groans at the first sip he takes.

“This seat taken?” You ask him and he looks at you, “you want a drink?” He asks and you nod so he gestures for the bartender to come over. You order your drink and turn to look at Frankie. He’s so handsome, even with exhaustion seeping deep into his bones, he makes your heart flutter but he has a girlfriend, he has a daughter. When you get your drink, you hold it up towards Frankie, “to Redfly.” He nods, clinking his glass with yours. Tears sting in your eyes when you look in the mirror behind the bar to you and Frankie, the realization that you came so close to death still weighing heavy. “That was a shit show, huh?” You joke softly, trying to conceal your watery eyes.

“Yeah.” Frankie blows out a breath and sighs, shaking his head. He wants to cry but he doesn’t feel like it will come out of him. Too used to repressing his feelings until he explodes. He feels it, itching under his skin, clawing to get out. “You doing okay?” He asks gruffly, clearing his throat and motioning towards the bartender for another round.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and you shake your head. “I keep- all i can see when I close my eyes is Tom. Dead on that mountain. How it could’ve been all of us. Any of us. And Molly and the girls…they are going to be devastated. I feel so guilty. Like there was - we could’ve saved him.” You know that’s not possible, Tom got himself killed but you feel guilty for your captain getting killed on your watch. The bartender sets another whiskey down for Frankie and you turn to look at him, “I can’t - we nearly died.”

“We didn’t though.” Frankie insists, picking up his drink and nudging yours over in front of you. “Fuck I wish this was something stronger.” He grunts as he tilts his head back and throws back the shot. Feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slides down his throat. His life is in shambles, no one knows how bad it is, not even Benny and for a moment, he wishes it had been him on that mountain.

You pick up your drink and down it, needing to feel numb like he wants to. “I have…I have something stronger. In my room.” You confess, “it’s, uh, I picked it up when we were in the coke fields.” You confess, knowing you shouldn’t have grabbed the packet but it was right there and you didn’t know if you were going to live or die.

He had been tempted. Surrounded by all that cocaine, he had been sorely tempted to take some. To know you have some in your room makes his stomach twist and his craving get even stronger. “Fuck.” He stands up and reaches into his pocket for some cash. “What the fuck are we waiting for?” He asks you. “I want to fucking forget the last week and a half.”

You nod, standing up and you grab your room key, quickly making your way up to the third floor and you open your door, hearing him close it behind him and you grab the baggie, working fast to cut lines on the desk in the corner. Frankie rolls up one of the hundred dollar bills from the bag you grabbed from Lorea’s and you use your hotel room key. “Ladies first.” Frankie says, handing you the bill and you bend over, snorting the line and you shake your head at the rush you get immediately before you hand the bill to Frankie.

Anticipation curls in his stomach as he bends down. Blowing out a breath, he closes his mouth and snorts up the entire line quickly. Groaning and tossing his head back as the jolt to his system immediately slams into him and the euphoria washes over him. “Shit, shit.” He huffs, leaning down and doing another line in his other nostril before gasping and handing the bill back to you. “It’s fuckin’ pure.”

“Purest shit I’ve ever done. I, uh, I haven’t done this for years. Not since college.” You confess and bend over to do another line. The second hits you hard and you set the bill down as you wipe your nose, shifting to sit on the bed. “Shit. I feel…peaceful.” You sigh, your racing thoughts finally silent as you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip as Frankie sits down next to you.

“Only goddamn time I have peace.” Frankie hums, feeling the lovely floating sensation start to drift over him as his mind goes fuzzy and the smell of your shower gel seeps into his nostrils. His cock twitches and he thinks about how fucking beautiful you are. “Only time I get hard now too.” He blurts out, the intimacy in his relationship dead and buried, he had used to hide the fact that he couldn’t get it up for her anymore, able to fuck while high had been a good thing for him.

You open your eyes and frown when you look at him, “Darcy…she doesn’t - wow.” You finish lamely and clear your throat. “Sorry. That was-” He murmurs and you shake your head, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “It’s okay. Nothing leaves this room. It’s just the two of us. Whatever we say or do doesn’t leave here, okay?” You reassure him, wanting him to know he can trust you.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you. To lay out everything that’s been happening and how miserable he is. Turning and looking into your concerned, beautiful eyes, he’s hypnotized by their color and depths. Not thinking about anything but you, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours with a moan.

You respond, much to your shame, you respond and reach up to cup his cheeks. Your lips move against his and you pull back after a second. “Frank-” You murmur but he silences you with another kiss, not wanting to think about anything but you. You allow him to drag you down and you tangle your fingers in his hair as his tongue slides along your lips and your tongue meets his with a low groan.

He wants you, he’s always wanted you, but right now he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you. His cock is already hard, throbbing as your tongue slides against his and he flips you onto your back and straddles you, pushing against your belly with his straining bulge. “Want you.” He manages as he pulls away to start biting and kissing along your jaw. “So fucking long. So beautiful.”

You can’t resist, fuelled by booze and coke, you can’t say no to the man you’ve been in love with for years. You couldn’t say anything when you served together and when you found out about Darcy and her being pregnant in the same sentence, you resigned yourself to being his friend. “Me too. Always wanted you. Fuck, Cat. I need you to - please. Fuck me.” You beg, reaching up to grab the back of his shirt, tugging on it and needing to feel his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so soft.” He marvels, stroking your sides and kissing your neck. “How are you so soft?” He’s imagined this thousands of times, sometimes when his hand is wrapped around his cock and sometimes when he was fucking Darcy. Luckily he had never moaned your name. Frankie kisses down your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth like a hungry baby.

You gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair, “Frankie.” You whimper when he bites down and he sucks where he bites. You wrap your leg around him and grind into him, pushing his bulge into your covered pussy and you moan in response.

He rocks his hips, shamelessly rutting into the hot core between your thighs. It feels better than he could have imagined and he’s not even inside you yet. He suckles until your nipple is swollen, moving over to the other breast and he knows he wants to bury his face in your cunt. “Take- take your fucking shorts off.” He growls, tongue dipping into your belly button as he moves lower.

Your heart beats out of your chest, already dripping with anticipation and you follow his growled demand without hesitation. You lift your hips as much as you can so you can take your shorts off after unbuttoning them and Frankie is impatient, reaching down to drag them off of your legs along with your panties, pushing your thighs apart when you are bare beneath him.

“Fuck.” He groans, seeing your wet folds and reaching out to spread them wide to expose your clit. “I’m so fucking hungry.” He lunges forward to slide his tongue through your folds and around your clit, pressing his nose to your mound with the enthusiasm of a starving man.

"Fuck!" You yelp, surprised at the ferocious way he buries his face into your cunt and you swear you nearly cum then and there when you look down and see his eyes are already black, pupils blown wide from the coke, and hungry. You moan and tug on his hair, "fuck, Frank - shit." You pant, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder.

It just makes him push deeper, sliding his tongue down to push up inside you. Loving the way your soaked walls clench around his tongue. He wraps his arms around your other thigh and pushes it out, opening you up more to his mouth. He would swallow you whole if he could. Cock throbbing in his jeans, grinding into the bed beneath him and swearing he could stay right here all night feasting on you.

"Oh God!" You cry, your head pressing into the mattress and you can't believe how good he feels, how good his tongue feels. Better than you've ever imagined and you've imagined it a lot. For years, you've wanted Frankie and now that you finally got him, you are breathless. "Shit. So good, baby. God, you're so good." You pant, getting closer as his nose presses against your clit.

He loves praise, soaks it up and is desperate for more. He moans into your folds and curls his tongue up inside you. Your fingers in his hair are magical and he hates pulling away for a second but he wants to suck on your clit.

Your stomach twists as you get closer to cumming and his lips suck harder on your clit. "Fi-fingers. Need your fingers, baby." You plead and moan when his thick digits push inside of you. "Yesss." You hiss, squeezing your eyes shut and it doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge with a moan of his name.

As hard as he is, he wants to see you cum again. Needs to see it, to feel it. Your cum floods his mouth and it's like ambrosia. Making him moan as he laps it up and pumps his fingers into your grasping walls. Enjoying the squelch of your wetness around his fingers.

"Shit." You hiss as you are pushed into overstimulation but he doesn't stop. You moan his name again, a desperate plea for what, you aren't sure. You don't want him to stop but it's so intense. "Oh fuck." You moan, thighs starting to shake as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Give me another.” Frankie demands, pulling away so he can swallow and then sucking your clit back into his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s wanted to pleasure someone he’s drunk on the sensation, greedy for more.

You gasp for air, every breath taken from you by his mouth and his fingers. "It's too much." You pant and Frankie growls, "another."

You can't deny him, pushing through the overstimulation and falling over the edge to another orgasm. "F-Fr-" You try to get his name out but all you can do is squeak.

Frankie groans, working his mouth even harder as he watches you. Your entire body arches up and he feels the spurt of precum soak his boxers. Finding it to be a gorgeous sight as you gasp and writhe for him.

You collapse against the bed, eyes still closed as you try to calm down after the best orgasms you've ever had. "I wanna see you." You tell him, shifting out from under him and kneeling on the bed. He follows your orders and lays down, working on unbuttoning his pants and you shove them down his legs after he kicks off his shoes. Throwing them to the floor, you focus back on Frankie and see the bulge in his boxers, the dark look in his eyes, and the way his chest heaves. You reach up to hook your fingers in his boxers, pulling them down, and you moan at the sight of his hard cock. "Fuck, you're thick." You murmur, spitting into your hand then you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the feel of the silky hot skin.

“Shit.” He hisses, rocking his hips up into your grip and groaning your name. He’s imagined you touching him, never quite able to imagine it as good as this. “Fuck, are you- what do you want?” He demands breathlessly. “I need you baby.”

“I want to - I want to ride you. I- I have an IUD. Please Frank. I need you inside of me.” You beg and he nods, leaning down to grab your arms so he can drag you up his body. You shuffle to straddle him, his cock between your folds as you grind down on him and the drugs combined with the high you get from Frankie has you feeling on top of the world.

“So goddamn beautiful.” Frankie groans, tearing up to press his lips to your shoulder. He should be desperate to get inside you, but he loves how you are rolling your hips over his cock. Holding tight to your back as he pulls you down and kisses along your shoulder.

You moan, turning your head so you can press your lips to his, not wanting to waste a second of this night together. He isn’t yours. Can never be yours. This is all you’ll have. You reach between you, gripping his cock and you lift up to position him at your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him and you whimper against his chin at the stretch.

“Holy fuck.” He pants, cock twitching and it’s all he can do to keep from rocking up into you. Trying to give you time to adjust. The Coke and the feeling of you are nearly making him black out from pleasure. “So good baby, fuck you are so tight and sweet.”

You exhale shakily, shifting to brace your hands on his chest as you take all of him. Your heart is pounding in your chest from the coke and the fact that it’s Frankie beneath you. “Feel so good, Frankie.” You whimper, caressing his chest as you give yourself a second before you start to move on top of him.

“So good, baby.” He groans. “I can’t believe that it feels so good. Move baby.” He begs you, fingers digging into your hips as he braces his feet in the bed.

You moan, nodding as you start to rock on top of him, lifting up until you can sink back down onto his cock. His thighs lift you so you can move forward and you grind onto his cock. “Fuck.” You pant, jaw dropping at the angle.

“That good, baby?” Frankie grunts. “Your little cunt is squeezing me.” His hands squeeze your hips, not slapping, he would never slap you. He groans when his words affect you and he squeezes your hips again. “You like that, baby girl? You like me telling you how tight your pussy is on my cock?”

You nod, speechless from the dirty talk. His rough voice sends shivers down your spine, and you move a little faster on top of him. "Shit. Yes. I do. I love it. I wanna - wanna hear more, Francisco." You demand softly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw.

“Fuck.” When Frankie is high, he’s more talkative, the thoughts inside his head just come pouring out of him easier than he would sober. “Always wanted to fuck you. Imagined it, dreamed of it, jerked off to the thought of it.” He admits with a dirty grin. His hand slides up to your breast and he squeezes it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “So many nights. The entire time we served together, I wanted you.”

“Oh God.” Your stomach clenches at his dirty confession and you pant against his collarbone, clenching around him. “Me too. Shit, so many nights spent wishing you were in my bed. You were inside of me. Always knew it would be amazing. And it is.” You reveal, rocking back onto him, “it’s so good.”

“So good.” He groans in agreement. “You- I -“ he shakes his head. “Fuck me.” He begs, knowing that he can’t tell you that. Not with the way his life is. He can’t drag you into his mess, not when he doesn’t know how he’s getting out of it himself. Or if he’s getting out of it.

You reach for his hands, gripping them as you start to move faster on his cock. “Fuck baby. Oh God.” You pant, tits bouncing as you work yourself towards your orgasm as your knees dig into the mattress.

“That’s it baby, ride my cock.” Frankie groans. “Always- fuck, you’re better than my fantasy.” He praises, watching you and completely enthralled with the sight.

The awed look he gives you sends you over the edge, his eyes glassy and mouth open as he looks at you like you’re a goddess. It makes you cum and you clamp down on his cock with a strangled choke of his name, falling forward until your forehead is pressed against his. Body shaking above him and he thrusts up into you to help you prolong your high.

It’s the best sex he’s ever had, groaning your name as he watches you cum. It’s a vision that he would love to have burned in his brain. Rocking his hips up frantically as he chases his own end.

You try to grind back onto him, wanting him to cum inside of you. “Cum for me, Francisco. I want to feel you.” You beg, kissing along his neck, wanting to leave your mark but knowing you can’t.

“Fuck, fuck.” Frankie groans, unable to resist giving you what you want. Especially since it’s what he wants too. He thrusts up into you wildly, only making it another half dozen thrusts before he’s filling you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum.

You hum with satisfaction, shifting to press your lips to his. His tongue is harsh against yours as his hips slowly thrust into you as he rides his orgasm and you run your fingers through his hair as he fills you. After he stops, he rolls you onto your side and curls around you. You smile into his chest, closing your eyes as the high of the drugs and the sex courses through you. There’s so much you want to say but you can’t. You just have tonight. Tomorrow, you deposit the money and Frankie goes home to his family.

Frankie hums, grateful when you don’t want to talk. All he wants to do is hold you. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down on his chest as he closes his eyes. “Wanna sleep here.” He mumbles quietly.

You hum back, placing your palm on his chest to feel his heartbeat, reassured that he’s safe and alive. You kiss his Adam’s apple, “sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow is gonna be messy.” You murmur, closing your eyes as exhaustion overwhelms you along with the crash from your high.

****

When Frankie wakes up, the light is starting to filter through the curtains and he’s sober. Realizing that he hadn’t been dreaming is both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. He can’t believe that he got to touch you, although he feels bad because he cheated. He made you a cheater and that was worse. He shifts slowly, not wanting to wake you up until he is out of the bed. Grabbing his clothes and fleeing quietly.

When you wake up, the sheets beside you are cold and you squint, feeling that headache you get after drinking too much but now it’s a combination of booze and coke. You sit up and bite your lip after you shake off the haze of waking up. He left. You shouldn’t be upset about that. He has a family. Shit, you - he cheated and you cheated with him. Shame burns inside of you. He has a baby with Darcy, he - he has a partner and you cheated with him. You feel dirty, shifting out of bed and you get into the shower, desperate to wash off his touch, hating that you can still feel his lips on your skin. The thing you wanted forever makes you sick with disgust at yourself. You stay under the water until it goes cold and reluctantly dress to meet the boys to deposit the money that will make you all for the rest of your life’s.

****

You watch Benny walk out of the room after giving his share to Redfly’s family and you know you have to do the same. Signing your name before you get up to follow the boys, your eyes meeting Frankie’s for a moment and he looks away. Your heart shatters but you’re reminded that you can’t tell anyone about last night.

Frankie frowns as he stares at the contract in front of him. It’s a lot of money. Money that he could use to leave Darcy. Get his pilot’s license back and leave the horrible relationship he’s in. Get custody of the baby, hopefully. Or at least not get fucked with visitation. It’s hard to not think about this, even though he knows that he should give the money to Redfly’s family. The man died. His kids deserve that money. Still he stares at the contract for far longer than he should before he crumples up the paper and signs the document to give the money away. Sadness and despair overwhelming him, even as he slaps Pope on the shoulder and ambles out of the room like the weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders.

You watch Frankie as you stand in the middle of the street, passers-by pushing past but you stare at Frankie, knowing this is it. He will go back to Darcy and who knows when you’ll talk to him next. He keeps to himself nowadays and even Santi has trouble trying to get hold of him. “You’ll need these.” Santi says as he hands everyone back their passports. “I guess I’ll see you all next at the funeral?” Will says and you nod, knowing Frankie can’t avoid that. “See you soon.” Will steps forward to hug you, kissing your cheek and Benny then Santi does the same. Next is Frankie and you struggle to maintain your composure as you hug him tight.

Frankie tries to hug you as quickly as possible but he can’t help but linger for just a moment. Clinging to you for a second as the dreams of the future, a future with you, slip away. “Well, I gotta get home.” He tells the group, not looking any of you in the eye. He nods and turns around to disappear into the crowd.

****

It’s hard seeing Frankie again, all of you in dress uniform and you see Darcy holding Ava as she sits in a pew behind Molly and the girls. It’s hard to be around Frankie because he’s not even texted you since you’ve been back. Not that you expected anything of him when you got home but a check in would’ve been nice. You’ve texted him, asking him how he’s doing and you’ve been left on read. Your heart aches for Frankie but today, it grieves for Tom, your leader, and you focus on him instead of the man you yearn for.

Frankie doesn’t even dare look at all of you, knowing how pissed Darcy is that he didn’t come home with the money he had promised her when he had left. He knows she blames all of you for the fuck up in South America and why she cannot have a life of luxury. Instead, he focuses on the funeral, his part in the honor guard so he can finish up and leave. Darcy doesn’t want to stay past the burial.

When the service is over, everyone is heading to Molly’s house for the wake and you are confused when you arrive there after stopping for gas and don’t see Frankie or Darcy. “Where did Frankie go?” You ask Santi who sighs.

“Darcy wanted to take Ava home and Frankie had to go too.” He explains and you frown, knowing it’s not like Frankie to leave early, especially when today is about Tom.

****

“I still can’t believe you gave the money away.” Darcy shakes her head after putting Ava down for her nap. “You’re a fucking spineless bastard.” Darcy hisses at Frankie who stands there with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched. “You should’ve been selfish. For Ava. For me. I already bought a Louis Vuitton purse for my birthday because you promised you’d get me something to make up for being such a failure and getting suspended at work. I gotta take it back. You know how embarrassing that’s gonna be for me, baby?”

“I’m sorry, baby.” The apology is automatic, his heart starting to race as his pulse jumps up. “I’ll- I’ll pick up more hours.” He’s got part time work that’s been able to sustain them with his retirement and disability. “You don’t have to take it back, baby. You keep it.”

Darcy shakes her head, “no. I’ll take it back. I don’t need you telling me that we need to be budgeting the groceries. Honestly, you’re pathetic. Leaving your family for two weeks and you didn’t bring back anything to show for it.” Darcy scoffs and Frankie frowns, “I got seventeen grand.” Darcy snorts, “yeah? And where’s that gone? On trying to fight your suspension. When we met, I thought you were capable of looking after me. I thought you were gonna take care of me and our daughter but you’re a failure. How are you gonna make this up to me?”

Frankie swallows, hating how she continuously pokes and pushes him, grinding him into the dirt with her venom. “However you want me too, baby.” He placates, moving towards her automatically to wrap his arms around her. If she pushes him away, he knows he needs to just be quiet and let her vent her disappointment. But she would also accuse him of not caring if he didn’t make a move to comfort her, so he was picking one and seeing if it was the right move today.

Darcy lets him wrap his arms around her and she slides her hands down his back and under his uniform to pinch his side, making Frankie wince. “I don’t need your fucking comfort, Frank. I need you to do your job to provide for this family.” She hisses and pushes him away, “my parents told me to not have the baby. Didn’t think you were good enough for me and you know what? They were right.” She shakes her head and turns towards the counter to make herself a cup of coffee.

Frankie sighs, although he makes sure that she doesn’t hear it. That would cause another fight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises. “I’ll get my license back and then we won’t have to worry about anything.”

Darcy snorts again, “you better otherwise me and Ava will be gone. I’ll move in with my parents.” She threatens and pours her coffee. After a few moments, she says your name, “did you see her? She looks like she’s put on weight. I don’t think anyone was fooled that her uniform still fits properly. It looked like she was about to burst out of it. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No one's gonna wanna date the Pillsbury dough boy.”

Frankie frowns, looking at her back and wondering if she’s serious. His friend and teammate died and she’s commenting about your looks? You don’t look any different than the day you left the Army. “Her uniform was fine.” He tells her. “Nothing was ill fitting, she could pass inspection today.” He knows you haven’t gained any weight, but he can’t say that. The image of you riding him is a secret memory, one that he will think of often.

Darcy turns, staring at her partner, “really? She could pass inspection?” She mocks his words, “all the others were thinking it. She’s a fatso, Frank. And she shouldn’t have gone with you all to South America. Trying to run with the boys. I bet that’s why Tom got killed, because you were all running around trying to protect her. She’s useless. She is a military groupie gone too far and she thinks she’s capable but she put you all in danger.” Darcy gives her opinion without any remorse, speaking her mind as she always does and she turns back to pour creamer in her coffee.

“She didn’t do that.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “You need to stop fucking talking about her like that. She’s got just as many medals for courage and valor as Ben, she’s not a military groupie, she’s a veteran and deserves respect.” He snaps, pissed off that she constantly belittles your accomplishments.

Darcy moves so fast he doesn’t even register that she’s slapped him until he sees her hand lowering from his face. The sting comes a few seconds later and he realizes he went too far in his defense of you. “Don’t you ever - ever - defend that fucking bitch in my house, okay? She has always pined after you and you disrespect me by giving her compliments? No, Frank. No. You fucking apologize right now to me.” She demands, crossing her arms.

His eyes are wide, unable to believe that she just hit him. She’s shoved him, slapped at his chest but she’s never hit him in the face. “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not apologizing for her being a veteran.” He tells her, his stomach churning and twisting in anxious nausea. Fearful of what she might do again, but still not ready to talk bad about you. You’ve never done anything wrong to her, until this trip, but Darcy doesn’t know that.

Darcy doesn’t hesitate, turning back to her coffee and she grabs the spoon she has in the mug, turning back to Frankie and pressing the spoon to his neck. He winces but she grabs the back of his neck to keep it pressed to his skin. “Apologize. To. Me.” She demands, pressing the spoon harder into his neck.

Frankie hisses, the hot spoon burning his skin but he almost doesn’t apologize. Deciding that he’s had enough of her shit until he hears Ava start to cry, obviously not wanting to go down for her nap. With the mood she’s in, Darcy would take it out on his daughter and he can’t have that. “I’m sorry.” He chokes out. “I’m sorry, baby, I- I don’t know what I was thinking.” He tells her breathlessly. “The funeral, losing Tom, it’s fucking with me. I’m not thinking straight.”

Darcy pulls the spoon away from his neck, setting it down and reaching up to cup his cheek. "It's okay, baby. I know it's been stressful. For me, too. I love you. You know that, right?" She coos, leaning in to kiss the burn she left on his skin.

Frankie shudders but he makes himself wrap his arms around her again and snuggle into her. “I know. You’re the only one who could put up with me.” It’s a statement that she’s said over and over again and he is starting to believe it.

“That’s damn right.” She chuckles, “I better go check on Ava.” Darcy says, leaning back with a smile at her partner and she walks out of the kitchen to check on the crying baby. Frankie exhales shakily, leaning against the kitchen counter. He has faced combat in the most dangerous areas in the world, nearly died from bullets flying past him, and flown a helicopter under high stress but Darcy seems to crumble his strength. Her power over him stems from keeping Ava safe and his morality. He would never hit a woman so he takes what she does to him. He doesn’t want to fight. He’s so tired of fighting.

****

It’s been weeks since you heard from Frankie and the guilt is eroding your insides. It’s haunting you and you don’t know how to handle it. You’ve never been a cheater and not hearing from Frankie has you worried that you’ve ruined your friendship. You decide to send him a text, saying hi and asking how he is.

Frankie’s phone is constantly being checked by Darcy since his outburst. Nearly every night and he has even stopped talking to Ben as much as he used to. Not wanting to rehash every comment he made to his buddy or what his mentality was. When he gets the text from you, he panics and nearly deletes it, but then it would cause a complete shitstorm. Instead he doesn’t even open his messages and waits for Darcy to look through it.

“Why is she texting you?” Darcy asks, pausing the tv and grabbing Frankie’s phone. “She is asking how you are. Why would she ask that? Have you been talking to her behind my back? Have you - explain this, Frank. Now.” She says, shoving the phone towards him.

“What? No! No, I haven’t been talking to her!” Frankie defends. “I- she’s probably checking in with everyone. Tom died, Darc. It - it’s heavy shit. We all blame ourselves.” He quickly rationalizes. “I’m not talking to her, you told me not to and I’m - baby, I’m not going to jeopardize my relationship with you.” He tells her, reaching out to rub her arm.

Darcy shrugs off his touch, “don’t fucking lie to me!” She shouts, despite Ava being asleep. “She’s a whore. Trying to take you away from me. I see the way she looks at you. She wants to tear our family apart and you are letting her do it. You never touch me. We don’t have sex. It’s her, isn’t it?” Darcy cries, starting to sob.

“No, no baby.” Frankie shakes his head and wonders if she suspects something. Guilt and worry curling in his stomach. “No, you told me that I was treating you like my sex toy, I - I didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted from you.” It was ironic when he used to want sex that she would complain, now he doesn’t even ask and she complains. “Only you, baby.”

Darcy sniffs, wiping her eyes, “yeah?” She asks and Frankie nods. “Good. I Don’t want you talking to her.” She narrows her watery eyes and shifts to sit beside him once more. She grips his chin and leans in to press her lips to his. “You’re mine. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” He can’t. She reminds him everyday and for the hundredth time since he came back, he wishes he had been the one killed. If it weren’t for Ava, he would have left her, long ago. But he knows she will never let him see his daughter again. “I won’t talk to her.” He promises quietly, mourning the loss of all of his friends since he has been with her. He will end up completely alone.

“Good.” She kisses him again, letting go of his chin and she settles in to watch the tv again. “You’re so good to me, baby.” She coos, sliding her hand down his chest to play with the buttons of his shirt, “makes me wet when you do what I want.”

Shit. He knows she wants sex now, especially since she’s brought it up.

“Yeah?” Frankie grunts, capturing her hand and sliding it down and onto his thigh. “Let me go pee, baby.” He asks her. “That way we don’t have to worry about anything when I take you to bed.”

Darcy nods, biting her lip as she smirks and watches him go into the bathroom. Frankie locks the door behind him and braces his hands on the sink, looking into the mirror. He doesn’t want to have sex with her but he has no choice. If he doesn’t, she will hurt him again, either emotionally or physically and his biggest fear is her hurting Ava. He will take every slap and pinch she gives him if his daughter is safe.

He finds the baggie he has hidden under the towels and in the linen closet. Working fast, he puts some onto the back of his hand and snorts it, wiping his nose. It’s enough to numb him to do what he needs to do, his thoughts drifting to you and how you looked riding him. He sniffs and hides the baggie again, splashing water on his face before he heads into the bedroom to do what he needs to do.

****

“Is Frankie coming?” You ask Santi who glances at his watch.

“He didn’t respond.” He says and you frown. No one has heard from or seen Frankie for weeks since you returned from South America and you don’t want to see him. He’s ignored you since you parted ways and you’re hurt. You thought your friendship would survive but he refuses to even text you back.

Frankie had barely been able to convince Darcy that if he didn’t show up to Benny’s fight that it would look strange. He had promised her he would just go to the fight, immediately coming home and he would have one beer. Nothing more. And he wouldn’t talk to you. Frankie shakes his arms and then wipes his hands on his jeans as he walks in, nervous about seeing everyone. The bruises on his sides twinge, reminding him of the promise he had made to behave.

Your eyes widen when you see Frankie sit down, shocked that he made it when Pope didn't think he would. His eyes meet yours after he greets everyone with a nod and you offer him a small smile that he returns until it drops, his eyes widening slightly before he turns his head away from you. Your heart twists with that and you wonder why he's actively avoiding you. He clearly regrets that night and now, so do you. Frankie's phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Darcy. ‘Remember, one drink baby. Don't talk to her. Don't linger. I want you home as soon as it ends otherwise I won't be happy. Love you.’

Frankie swallows harshly and stows his phone, leaning over to Pope. “Gotta leave after the fight.” He yells over the crowd. “Baby’s not feeling good.” He lies, knowing no one would blame him for that. The fact that you lean in and he’s close to touching you makes him jerk back and sit straight, sure that Darcy would catch your perfume if he touched you, even innocently.

Darcy texts Frankie several more times throughout the fight, even asking him to take a photo of it to prove where he is. It's strange because she never accused him of cheating until he came back from South America. Maybe something changed, maybe he changed. He doesn't know but he concentrates on Benny and cheers him when he wins. "I gotta go. Tell Benny congrats." Frankie says as he slaps Santi on the shoulder and he looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes. "See you later." He offers you a small smile then rushes off before the crowds try to leave and you frown, turning back to Pope.

"Something isn't right with him." You assess and Santi nods, squeezing your shoulder until you focus on Benny as he approaches with blood smeared on his face from a broken nose but a wide grin from his win.

“Where’s Fish going?” He had seen his friend in the crowd as he was in the ring. He frowns slightly when he realizes that Frankie isn’t just going to the beer stand for another brew.

“He had to go, the baby isn’t feeling good.” Pope tells him with a frown. “He told me to tell you congrats on your win.”

Benny huffs and takes the towel that Will tosses him to wipe his face. “Something’s wrong with him. He’s not answering my texts, like- at all.”

“Have you spoken to him?” Will asks you, knowing you and Frankie have always been especially close.

You shake your head, “I’ve texted him but I get left on read. I don’t know what’s going on. I- I am worried about him.” You confess and the boys nod.

****

“What took you so long?” Darcy asks as she stands in the hallway.

Frankie barely gets a chance to shrug off his jacket before she’s on him. “I hit all red lights, baby.” He explains and Darcy shakes her head.

“It was her. Wasn’t it?” She accuses, “you fuck her in the bathroom? Mind you, you wouldn’t be that late coming home. You’ve never had the stamina, have you?” She laughs cruelly.

Frankie’s shoulders slump but he doesn’t rise to the bait, knowing it would just start a vicious fight. “No babe, I left as soon as the fight was over. I just got caught up at the lights.” He knows that he’s going to get slapped again. Since the other day, she’s slapped him on the cheek whenever she gets mad. Making him feel even more ashamed every time he thinks of hitting her back. Becoming the monster he’s always been afraid that he is.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” She surges forward to slap him and grips his chin, leaning in. “You even smell like cheap perfume. I can’t believe you.” She lowers her hand, “I give you everything. Sacrifice my body to give you a child. Give you a home to return to and you want to throw it all away for some whore who could never love you like I can.”

“I swear to you, Darcy.” Frankie whines, nearly flinching when she moves again. “I didn’t do anything, I sat by Pope. Maybe he’s seeing a new girl, I don’t know. I came straight home.”

Darcy stares at him, her eyes narrowed. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” She says and spins on her heels, making her way back into the bedroom and she shuts the door, effectively locking him out of his room. Frankie looks down at his hands, shaking from both anxiety and anger. He hates Darcy but he can’t leave, his daughter isn’t safe around her. The other day Frankie found Ava gripping a knife and Darcy laughed and said it was nothing, she wants her to learn how to use utensils to be a proper lady. He strips down to his boxers and lays on the sofa, wishing he could escape this situation and keep his daughter safe but no one would believe him.

****

It’s been a few days since Benny’s fight and the guilt of sleeping with Frankie is becoming too much. Darcy posted some photos of Ava and Frankie on her Facebook page with them out for brunch - her new designer bag on display - and you felt the heavy pit of guilt in your belly. You have to tell her and you’ll tell her it’s all your fault. Frankie will be at work so you make your way over to his house, ringing the doorbell and shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as you wait for Darcy to answer the door.

Darcy huffs, pushing herself off the couch with an annoyed grunt. “Hold on!” She grumbles as she walks over to the front door and opens it. Annoyed and immediately glaring when she sees you at the door. “What the fuck do you want?” She hisses. “Frankie doesn’t want to talk to your pathetic ass, so do us both a favor and fucking leave him alone, okay?”

Your eyes widen and you know she has never liked you but her attitude takes you back. “I, uh, I know you don’t want to talk to me but I need to tell you something. Please. I, uh, I need to get it off of my chest.” You tell her and she crosses her arms, scoffing but allowing you to continue. “I slept with Frankie. In St Johns. We, uh, we were high and had a few drinks so we weren’t thinking straight and I’m so sorry Darcy. I wanted to tell you because you deserve to know and I can’t keep this secret any longer. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat.” You admit and she chuckles, “every cloud.” Her comment makes you frown and you are confused, “you aren’t mad?”

Darcy snorts and shakes her head, “I knew that Frankie fucked you.” She lies with a nasty smirk on her face. “A pity fuck, that’s what he called it when he told me about it.” She shrugs slightly. “You know men, if a whore is gonna throw it at them, they’ll take it. Thank God you didn’t give him something, but he much prefers my pussy over yours. Said he can’t even look at you now, so disgusted with the thought of you naked.” She chuckles evilly again. “Might want to lose a few pounds.”

You feel your eyes sting and your stomach twist. Hearing what Frankie said about you makes you feel sick. Darcy could be making it up but why would she lie? She knows about what happened.

“He said you were the worst sex he’s ever had. It was the adrenaline from surviving, he told me. He hasn’t talked to you because he didn’t want to embarrass you. You need to go. He’s my boyfriend. The father of my child. He’s mine. He belongs to me.” She says and you swallow down the lump in your throat, uneasy with her words but she’s not wrong.

“Yeah. Uh, I- I’ll go. I wanted to tell you because I thought you deserved to know and, um, yeah. Bye.” You choke and she waves at you as you make your way down the driveway to your car. Pulling away from the curb, tears streaming down your cheeks and you curse that night, you curse Frankie Morales. Your heart breaks and you need to take some time to get over that asshole. He’s with Darcy and he loves her.

****

“Baby, I’m home.” Frankie calls out and comes in to find Darcy sitting on the sofa, “come here baby.” She coos and he sets his stuff down before sitting on the sofa next to her. She leans in to kiss him and Frankie nearly flinches. “I missed you today.” She coos, caressing his cheek.

“I missed you too.” He lies, “where’s Ava?” He asks and Darcy explains that she is at her parents’ house.

“I wanted a romantic night in with you.” She says and Frankie feels repulsed but what can he do? “So…” Darcy trails off and grips his chin, “when were you gonna tell me you fucked the whore in St John’s?” She asks him, her eyes hardening.

“What?” Frankie shakes his head, immediately denying it. She’s been accusing him of cheating since he got back from South America. “Baby, why do you keep saying that?” He demands, making her squeeze his cheeks even harder. “The whore told me herself, Frank.” She spits, the spittle flying into his face and making him cringe. His heart sinks but Darcy keeps talking. “Bitch came to my house, wanted to ‘confess’ because she felt so guilty. She should, spreading her legs for you when she knows you have me, have Ava.” Frankie starts to shake, knowing that Darcy will punish him, badly, for you showing up and telling her what happened.

“You lied to me, Frank. Over and over. I’ve done so much for you. Sacrificed so much for you and this is how you repay me? By fucking the woman you’ve been in love with for years?” She hisses and Frankie shakes his head. “No use denying it. I know you love her. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’ve never looked at me like that. I knew you would leave me for her so I decided to take action. Poked holes in the condoms we used until I got pregnant. Wanted to make sure you were mine.”

Frankie gasps, nearly choking on his own breath at the knowledge that she had baby trapped him. “You-“ He growls, his head snapping to the side when she slaps him.

“Don’t you fucking say a word, you cheating bastard!” She screams, her voice breaking because of how high it gets. “You humiliated me! All your bastard friends know, laughing at how you banged your whore.” This time, her fist is closed when she hits him, punching him in the jaw and Frankie grabs her hand.

“Stop fucking hitting me!” He shouts.

She screams, wrenching her hand away and she stands up. “That’s it. I don’t know if this shit will happen again. It can’t happen again. I’m gonna invite her over here. Gimme your phone.” She orders and he shakes his head. She sees his phone on the kitchen counter, rushing over to pick it up and Frankie tries to follow her but she’s quick to grab a knife from the counter, aiming it at him and he knows he could take her down but not without hurting her.

“Darcy!” He barks, jumping out of the way of the knife and back several steps. “Are you fucking crazy?” He asks, watching the knife carefully as she spins around again and looks like she wants to murder him. “Put the knife down.”

She shakes her head and grabs his phone, texting with one hand to bring up your name and text an invite over to the house, she hits send and tosses the phone across the counter. "She'll come. I know she will. Fucking pathetic bitch can't leave you alone." She scoffs, waving the knife again. "And you're gonna let me talk to her." She laughs manically, setting the knife down and opening the drawer. Before she had Ava, Darcy was a nurse so it wasn't hard for her to procure what she needed. She grabs the syringe as Frankie approaches to try and get the knife away from her and she is quick to stick the needle in him, pressing down on the needle to push the sedative into Frankie's bloodstream. She wants him to watch you suffer but she knows he won't allow it so she needs him to be restrained.

****

Being drugged is nothing like getting high. Frankie groans, head pounding and his mouth feels dry. Trying to move his arms, he can’t and he tries harder, feeling the resistance that forces his eyes open.

“You’re awake. Good. She’s on her way.” Darcy reveals and Frankie shakes his head, trying to speak but he’s still lethargic. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna take care of this. You’ll never truly love me until she’s out of the way. I’m gonna do what needs to be done.” She promises and picks up the gun she had taken from Frankie’s gun safe. She knows the password is Ava’s birthday so she was able to get into it.

“D-Dar-“ Frankie’s tongue is heavy and his mind is so jumbled from the drugs she had pumped into his system. He doesn’t want this, horrified that you might be killed because of his mistakes. He shakes his head again, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. His hands are bound, he’s zip tied to a kitchen chair. “D-don’t.” He croaks out.

You frown when you receive the text. Confused about Frankie’s invite to his house and the wording isn’t like the man you’ve known for years. You know something is wrong and you want to find out. Especially since Darcy had told you what Frankie had said. You get into your car and make your way over to Frankie’s house. Parking down the street, you sneak around the house and your eyes widen when you look into the house and see Frankie tied to a chair, and Darcy walking around with a gun in her hand. “Shit.” You curse, knowing you have to protect him and yourself and especially Ava. You step back from the house and call the police, explaining the situation, and after you hang up, you exhale shakily, anxious to keep Frankie safe.

“Darcy, think of Ava.” Frankie begs, the drugs wearing off and he is panicked. “You won’t get away with it. You’ll be in jail.” While he would love to be away from her, he is trying to keep her from killing you. “We’ll move.” He promises. “Sell the house and move across the country. Away from everything and start fresh.”

Darcy scoffs, "I will get away with it because you're going to help me deal with her after. Even if we moved across the world, she'd still be in your fucking mind. You won't forget about her. You'll still be tempted and I won't allow it. I can't. You're mine. You belong to me." She growls, fingers adjusting around the gun.

Outside, the police arrive quietly, pulling up in their SUVs and you meet them to explain what's going on. "I think she's going to kill him. I think she's gonna try to kill me." You explain and the police officers nod, speaking into their radios.

Inside, Frankie is still trying to convince Darcy. “Baby, no. It was a mistake.” He lies, knowing that his time with you was the best he’s ever had. “I had done some Coke, just to- just to forget the image of Tom’s brains splattered on the fucking rocks.” He tells her. “I didn’t realize what I was doing and then I left, I didn’t talk to her. I haven’t had anything to do with her.”

Darcy shakes her head and aims the gun at him, her anger getting the best of her, “you’re a fucking liar. I know you love her. I know you love her more than me and if she was gone, you could love me like that. I want you to love me like that. Don’t lie to me. I know you want her. Have always wanted her.” Darcy shouts, just as the front door flings off of its hinges and the officers yell at Darcy to drop the weapon and get down on the ground.

Frankie shouts, begging her to put the gun down. Knowing they will kill her if she so much as twitches wrong. Not wanting Ava to deal with the fact that her mother was killed when she’s older. Darcy screams, incoherently and spins around on Frankie. “You bastard! You called them!” Despite the fact that there was no way he could have called the police. He had been tied up.

“Darcy, no!” The shots echo in the house, deafening him and he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the pain to start where she shot him.

The bullet flew into the kitchen cabinet behind him and the other shots were the police taking down Darcy. Yelling fills the house as the officers rush forward, kicking the gun out of Darcy’s hand and checking her pulse. “We need an EMT. Now.” He says and speaks into his walkie.

“Is she dead?” Frankie gasps as the officer comes towards him, pats him down before he lets him go.

“Yes sir. She was a threat and she had a weapon.” He says and Frankie exhales shakily.

“Frankie! Frankie!” You shout, pushing into the house despite the officers telling you to stay put. You run over to Frankie, cupping his cheeks, “are you okay?”

“I- no,” Frankie pants, staring at Darcy’s crumpled body and closes his eyes. “She was gonna- she was gonna kill you.” He manages before he lowers his head and tries to keep from sobbing, relieved that you are here and safe.

Your eyes widen, “kill me? Because we - oh God.” You choke, putting it all together when she had Frankie tied up and the gun in her hand. “Shit. She wanted to kill me.” You whisper and the police officers come over to escort you and Frankie outside and they take Frankie aside to take his statement but he wants you to stay with him. Reluctant to have you out of his sight, you stand beside him as he starts to give his statement.

Frankie starts to tell them everything. The abuse, the escalating violence. He pulls up his shirt to expose the bruises. How erratic Darcy had been acting, although he doesn’t mention the trip to South America, just that things had gotten worse since he had come back from out of town. He hates it, feeling humiliated as the police look at him first with disbelief and then pity as he continues to tell them about being abused by his girlfriend. He can’t look at you right now, afraid you would be disgusted with him for not manning up like Darcy always told him to do.

You feel sick. Hearing what Darcy did to Frankie has you wanting to scream and cry and make the world burn. You want to go and get a gun and kill Darcy again, just for the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. Tears sting in your eyes and the officer takes his statement and tells Frankie he can’t stay in the house so you wipe your cheeks and say that Frankie can stay with you. You turn to look at him, hands reaching out but pulling back in case he doesn’t want to be touched. “Frankie. I- I’m so sorry. I- I should’ve known. I should’ve helped you. I - shit. You - the ways she’s hurt you.” You choke, wishing you could go back in time and keep him safe from Darcy.

“No.” Frankie shakes his head. “She- she would have hurt Ava.” He tells you breathlessly, trying to keep his emotions bottled up. “They- they never would have given me custody. I would- I had to protect her. If she was hitting me, she wasn’t hitting our little girl.”

You can tell Frankie is on the edge and you want him to be safe before the emotions hit him finally. “Come on, let’s go back to my place. Where’s Ava?” You ask with wide eyes, worried that the little girl is in the house still.

“She’s at Darcy’s parents house. They - oh God. I gotta tell them - Darcy is dead.” He says with a whisper and he hates the fact that he’s happy about that for himself but not for Ava. “She’s safe for tonight. You’re in no state to be around her. Come to mine and you need to sleep.” You say, grabbing your keys from your pocket and guiding him up the street while the police handle his house.

“I don’t- I tried.” Frankie rambles as you steer him towards your car and open the door for him. “I stopped talking to everyone, stopped doing anything that would set her off.” He doesn’t understand why she hated him so much. Was he just that horrible? “Nothing- I failed at everything. I was- wasn’t good enough.”

“Frankie.” You shake your head as he gets into the car, “this isn’t your fault. Darcy was an abuser. You aren’t to blame for how she treated you. You are a good man. She - she was wrong. She abused you.” You whisper, a tear escaping your eye as you look at his distraught face.

“Poor Ava.” He bites his lip and closes his eyes tight, trying not to cry. “She- she’s gonna grow up with me and I’m gonna fuck her up. I - she always told me I was useless.”

You kneel down beside the car, “can I touch you?” You ask, wanting to hold his hand and he nods. “Francisco. You are the best father. You’re a good man. You’re not going to fuck Ava up. Darcy would have. She would’ve manipulated her like she did you. You are going to get through this. It’s gonna take a while but you’ll be strong for Ava. You can do this. I promise you.” You squeeze his hand, hating how broken he looks.

“Are you sure?” Frankie asks quietly, clinging to your hand. “I- I have to admit something.” He tells you. “I had been thinking that I should have been the one to die on that mountain. That way it would be over for me.” He sees the horror on your face. “But you- that night- it’s how I’ve been keeping sane lately. Remembering you, that night.”

You want to sob then and there, hearing that Frankie wanted to die because of Darcy. It makes you even angrier but you control yourself and place your hand over his holding yours. “Darcy has hurt you and you need to heal from that. Ava loves you. The boys love you. I love you. You’re so loved and we need you, Frankie. She’s gone and you’re still here. It will take time but you’ll be what Ava needs.” You assure him.

“How could I let it happen?” He asks seriously. “I’ve fucking killed people, and my girlfriend was abusing me?” He sounds bewildered because he is unable to rationalize that in his mind. “I don’t- I didn’t stop it, I just- I guess I am less of a man.”

You shake your head, “you didn’t stop it because of Ava. Because you are a good man and you didn’t want to hurt Darcy even though she was hurting you. You’re not less of a man. You were manipulated and abused. Mentally controlled. Verbally and physically abused. Sweetheart, this isn’t your fault.” You promise him, “this isn’t your fault.”

Frankie sighs, feeling exhausted. “I couldn’t let her kill you.” He admits quietly. “I- I almost hit her, but she knocked me out with something.” He looks into your eyes. “Can you-? I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

You nod, letting go of his hand and you make your way around the car to get in the driver's seat. You start the engine and make your way down the street past the police cars and the black van so you can get Frankie somewhere safe. He’s quiet for the drive and when you pull up on your driveway, you cut the engine and look at him, “do you want something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.” He murmurs quietly, looking at the front of your place. He honestly wants to shower until his skin is red and then sleep for the next year. “Can- can I shower?” He asks, turning his head quickly and looking at you with wide eyes. “I- I need to feel clean.”

“Of course you can.” You hate that he asks you like that. Like you’re going to slap him for inconveniencing you. “Come on.” You say and open the car door, moving fast to unlock your home so he can get comfortable. “You know where the guest room is. You can stay as long as you like. There’s fresh towels and I think I have a pair of your sweats from when you stayed over a few years ago when you were having your house painted.” You say and he nods, making his way to the bathroom. When he shuts the door, you allow the tears to fall. How did you not see this? How did you let him be abused by Darcy? Why didn’t you check on him more? You feel incredibly guilty.

Inside the bathroom, Frankie turns on the shower and sits on the toilet seat. Shell-shocked and unable to believe what happened. Having a small breakdown when he imagines what could have happened if the police hadn’t come and you had walked into his house. If Darcy had killed you. He slaps his hand over his mouth, starting to sob and trying to keep it quiet.

You wipe your eyes and splash your face with water. You know you didn’t have a clue about the abuse Frankie was facing and you wonder if your presence triggered her or if you made it worse in some way. Her words when you went to tell her about you and Frankie ring in your ears when you remember how vehemently she declared Frankie to belong to her. You wish you had seen the signs. You have to be strong for Frankie though.

Eventually, Frankie climbs into the shower and nearly burns his skin off, scrubbing harshly with the soap and rag to feel clean again. If the tears mix with water and slide down the drain undetected, he doesn’t acknowledge them. Waiting until the water runs icy cold before he turns it off and steps out to wrap a towel around his waist. The bruises are visible. Some fresh and dark purple, others a sickly green and yellowish, making him grimace in the mirror as he traces them before turning away and opening the door. Grateful that you have given him a place to stay tonight.

You look up when Frankie exits the bathroom and comes into the living room with the towel wrapped around his waist and you see the bruises. You choke on your breath, tears in your eyes and you stand up to walk over to him. “Can I- oh God. Frankie.” You sob, reaching up to gently wrap your arms around him and you feel the guilt almost suffocate you.

“I’m okay.” He’s not, but he will be. Overwhelmed by the fact that he is free, he wraps his arms around you and crushes you against him, burying his face into your neck. “Thank you.” He whispers. “For being here.”

“Always, sweetheart. I’m always here for you.” You promise, sniffing as you run your fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.” You echo, “You’re safe.” You promise and you caress his neck. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” You murmur, knowing he must be exhausted.

“I don’t want to be alone.” He whispers and you hum, “you can stay with me. If that’s okay?”

“Please?” It’s pathetic and he can hear Darcy’s voice in his head, reaming him for needing you to sleep beside him, but he tries to ignore that. Sighing softly in relief when you take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom. He needs to be near you, to know that you are okay and that he is safe. It was another reason he had gone with you that night you were together. He had been terrified it had been you on that mountain and then relieved that you were still with him.

“I have your sweats. I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’ll be five minutes, okay?” You ask and he nods. You caress his back and make your way into your bathroom, getting ready for bed. Once you’re in your tank top and shorts, you shut the door behind you and see that Frankie is already in bed. You turn off the lamp and slide under the covers, wrapping your arms around him. “Goodnight Frankie.”

Frankie sighs, relaxing when he wraps his arms around you. Closing his eyes and pressing his nose into your hair. “Goodnight, and thank you again.” He squeezes you tight and settles into the bed, holding you close.

****

It’s been six months since the night Darcy tried to kill you and Frankie has been going to therapy. He is in a much better place and is a loving father to Ava. During his therapy sessions or other appointments, you look after Ava. Darcy’s parents were ashamed of their daughter and her abuse, they have been giving Frankie some space until he is ready to have them back in Ava’s life.

You look up as Frankie comes into the house and Ava rushes over to him, “dada! Dada!” She cries and he bends down to pick her up, kissing her cheek.

“She’s been a good girl?” He asks you and you stand up from the rug scattered with toys.

“She always is.” You coo at Ava. “You want some coffee?” You ask and he nods, holding Ava on his hip. He moved a few weeks after that night, unable to live in that house full of horrid memories and his new place is cozy enough for him and Ava. He got his license reinstated and the boys have been supporting him through everything. Things are finally starting to look up as Frankie is able to process what happened to him at the hands of Darcy. You quickly prepare the coffees and get some milk for Ava along with one of the cookies she loves and she rushes over to eat the cookie on the rug, making you chuckle. “She can never sit still. Just like her father.”

“That’s because if I’m still, I’m gonna fall asleep.” Frankie jokes, smiling at the sight of Ava happily eating a cookie and watching TV. She hadn’t asked about Darcy much, and seemed to accept that momma had gone to Heaven and she wouldn’t see her anymore. In fact, he had often wondered if she had started being mean to Ava because the young girl seems so happy. “You are so good with her.” He tells you, taking the cup of coffee with an appreciative smile. “I don’t think you know how much I owe you.”

“Nothing. You owe me nothing. There’s nowhere else I’d be. I - I love Ava and you needed help. I couldn’t let you do this all on your own after dealing with Darcy. I wanted to help you because I love you both. So much.” You smile and pick up your own cup of coffee. Telling Frankie you love him has become second nature but the true depth of your feelings has never become a subject you’ve been brave enough to broach, especially since he’s been healing physically and mentally from Darcy’s abuse.

Frankie’s stomach flips and he takes another sip of his coffee. You’ve said you love him almost every day and you don’t even know how much it means to him. He’s talked about you in therapy, about his feelings for you and the therapist has encouraged him to start talking to you about them. About how he’s always been in love with you, how he’s still in love with you. That despite what Darcy put him through, he would like to see what could happen with you in a relationship. “I love you too.” He tells you honestly.

His words make your heart thump and your eyes meet his over your cups of coffee, but you don’t get your hopes up that he means he’s in love with you. He’s been through so much. The last thing he probably wants is to get into a relationship. He needs time to heal and to ensure Ava is happy and safe. “I know you do.” You tease softly, “it’s the pasta dish I make, isn’t it?”

“It’s the fact that I’ve always been in love with you.” He admits, setting his coffee mug down and shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes are searching yours and he’s reminding himself that you wouldn’t react harshly, even if you didn’t feel the same way. “I don’t know what you want. Or how you feel, but Dr. Thomas said that I should talk to you.”

Your eyes widen as you realize he’s serious and you set your coffee cup down so your shaking hand doesn’t spill it everywhere. You stare at him for a moment from the other side of the kitchen and you bite your lip. “You want to know how I feel? I’ve been in love with you since we first met. That night we all went out to the bar to get to know each other and you bought that hat off of some guy in the parking lot. I have been in love with you every day since then and I’ll be in love with you every day from now on. I love you, Frankie. With everything I am.”

He closes his eyes, nodding. As he absorbs the idea that you feel the same way that he does. Feeling the warmth settle in his chest and he bites his lip as he opens his eyes. “I-“ he steps closer to you and reaches for your waist. “I would think about you.” He admits softly. “When Darcy was being really bad, I would remember that one time we were together. It - it saved me.”

Your heart pounds in your chest and simultaneously breaks when you hear that Frankie had to escape like that. You swallow harshly and reach up to cup his cheek, “I wish I could take away everything she did to you.” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

“I -“ he leans into your touch and sighs. “It doesn’t matter now. I just want to move on.” He admits quietly.

“You can move on. You need to confront what happened, be stronger from the experience and move on.” You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his chin, his stubble scratching your lips. “I love you, Francisco.”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly. “I want to kiss you sober.”

You nod, moving slowly so he can pull back if he wants and you lean in to softly press your lips to his. It’s gentle and sweet and everything you’ve wanted with Frankie, your body lighting up at the connection. You don’t move to deepen the kiss, wanting him to control this.

He sighs again, sliding his arms up and around you. Softly pulling you closer. He doesn’t think that you will push him away but he wants to give you the time to. If you want to keep it simple.

His hands squeeze your waist and you lean into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You whimper when his tongue slides against yours and it’s like coming home, like you belong here with him at this moment.

Frankie wants to live in this moment. Feeling your hands on his body, worshiping him with your fingers as they caress his neck. His daughter laughing at her cartoon, safe and sound. He kisses you until he feels like he can’t breathe. Pulling back and smiling at you. “Stay tonight?” He asks softly.

You nod, breathless and lips swollen from his kisses and you whimper when he kisses you again. ****

“She’s asleep.” You tell Frankie as you walk into the living room after putting Ava to bed. She had clung to you for a while until she finally passed out on your shoulder and you put her to bed. Frankie looks up from his phone and sets it down. “You don’t have to put the phone down.” You assure him softly, “I’m not gonna check it.” You promise, knowing that’s part of his learned behavior with Darcy.

“I was texting Benny.” He tells you with a self depreciating grin. “He’s checking on me. Again.” He had been embarrassed, but he told them all what had been happening. Since then, all of them checked in with him at least once a day. He knows they are worried, wanting to make sure he doesn’t start using again.

You come and sit down beside him on the sofa, reaching for his free hand. “They love you. They all wanna make sure you’re okay.” You say and squeeze his hand. “Baby, you’re doing so well.” You praise him.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckles quietly and he squeezes your hand. “I don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything.” He tells you. “But, I - I want to.” He admits. “I’ve been- I jerked off in the shower before you came over.” The therapist had urged him to not hide his needs and to be honest with you. So he is.

You inhale sharply, your stomach twisting with arousal, and you’ve been trying to hide your attraction to him, uncertain if he wants to touch or be touched after suffering such a traumatic event. You shift a little closer to him, “I want to- I want you. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I just want you, Frankie.” You murmur, leaning closer to softly kiss him.

He hums into the kiss, his memory of your only night so far is burned into his brain but he wants something different. That was lust fueled, frantic. “I want to make love to you.” He whispers, moving to kiss along your jaw. “We fucked the last time, I want to make love to you.”

You lean into him, moaning softly at the thought, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, “I would love that, sweetheart.” You murmur, leaning back so you can kiss him properly. His tongue slides against yours for a moment until you pull back, “take me to your bed.” You order softly but you want him to be in control tonight. He has to be comfortable.

He’s nervous now that he’s not high. That he’s doing this with a clear mind. Old anxieties spring to the surface but he pushes them down. You aren’t Darcy and you wouldn’t criticize everything he did in bed. He’s already half hard, proving that he didn’t have any issue getting it up for you.

You stand up and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and escorts you to his bedroom. The bed is messily made but you don’t care about that when Frankie is pulling you close again. “I love you.” You murmur, cupping his cheeks before you lean in to kiss him. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and you pull back so he can drag it over your head. “Can I take your shirt off?” You ask him and he nods. You move fast to take his shirt off, caressing his skin - free of bruises and no physical scars, except the ones he got in battle, displaying the abuse he endured. “So handsome.” You murmur, admiring him.

Frankie twitches slightly, not that he doesn’t believe you think that, it’s just he’s always been a bit reserved. The other guys were hit on more than he was, though he did alright. He reaches for you, wanting to see your body again. Compare it to the memory he has. “I love you. You are gorgeous.” He hated all the hateful things Darcy had said about you, none of them true. His hands slide under your shirt and he groans as he reveals your plain bra.

You feel gorgeous under his touch, despite the comments from Darcy. You reach down to squeeze him through his pants but he drags your bra down your arms and he’s ducking his head to wrap his lips around your nipple. You gasp, gripping his shoulders, “Frankie. Shit.” You hiss when he bites down, making your cunt clench around nothing.

Frankie moans, his cock fully hard and pressing against his fly. He loves the way that you respond to him and the way your nipple tightens in his mouth. Fingers trance up your spine before he works on undoing your jeans. Wanting to see all of you, touch you. Your taste is still a flavor on his tongue, but he wants to drown in it.

You whimper when he switches to your other breast and whine when he pulls back so he can push your jeans down your legs. “Fuck baby.” You gasp when his hand slides between your legs to rub your clit through your panties.

“Let me make you feel good.” He begs softly. He’s not doing this because he has to. He’s doing it because he wants to, he needs to. His fingers rub the material, groaning around your nipple with the wetness that starts to soak through.

You whimper, rocking your hips down to meet his fingers, and you grip his shoulder while your other hand reaches down to squeeze him through his jeans. “I’m yours. You can do what you want.” You promise him.

“I’m yours too.” He promises, twitching under your touch and loving how eagerly you want him. He pushes under your panties and starts to slowly stroke your clit as he kisses back up your chest and then to your lips.

You moan into his mouth, snaking your hand into his boxers, squeezing him as his fingers rub your clit. “Fuck baby. Never forgot how thick you are.”

“Yeah?” He’s proud of the fact that you think he’s thick. “Do you like it? Thick, I mean? Did it feel good?”

“I loved it.” You promise him, jerking him slowly as his fingers rub your clit and you close your eyes as his lips kiss along your neck. “I love you. Everything about you. Even your demons. I love every part of you. Accept every part.” You promise breathlessly as you squeeze him. “God, I need you inside of me.”

“You don’t want me to eat you out?” He asks in surprise. He had thought you had enjoyed it that night but maybe you just didn’t want it right now. “You’d rather I fuck you?”

You can tell he’s anxious and you pull back to look at him. “Baby, your tongue is literally magic. I never came from oral before your tongue came along. I loved it.” You reassure him, “I just - I want to feel connected to you.” You explain, hoping he understands that this is more than just sex. You want to feel him in your bones, in your soul.

Frankie smiles, relieved that you had cum. He had sworn you had, but he had also been high. “I get it.” He promises you, reluctantly pulling his hand out of your panties and starting to drag them down. “I want to be connected to you too.” He smirks slightly, feeling confident that it will be amazing. Everything with you is amazing.

You smile and caress his cheek with your free hand and you reach down to shove his boxers down his legs. He is throbbing and you want him to feel loved, to feel cherished. You sink down onto your knees, looking up at him. “I love you.” You declare and lean in to wrap your lips around his cock after gripping him. You want to make him feel good, feel cherished.

“Oh fuck.” Frankie chokes out the sound and tries not to buck his hips forward. Chasing the sweet heat of your mouth and the way you softly suckle him. “So good baby. Fuck, baby.” He coos softly, reaching down and stroking your cheek. You look so fucking pretty with his cock in your mouth. “I love you so goddamn much.” He promises, knowing that you don’t pity him for what happened.

You moan around his cock, loving how he is caressing your cheek and praising you. You love how comfortable he is, no longer ashamed of himself after months of therapy. You pull off of his cock, jerking him with your hand, "I love you. You want to cum down my throat or inside of me?" You ask, wanting him to choose.

“Inside.” He croaks out, pulsing in your hand at the thought. “I want to be inside you, so deep I don’t know where I stop and you start.”

You let go of him and shift to stand up, leaning in to kiss him. "How do you want me?" You ask and he murmurs against your lips, "on your back." You nod, shifting to lay down on his bed, naked and aching for him.

Frankie takes his time, standing up and slowly stripping. Watching as you lay down on the bed and spreading your legs to show him your dripping cunt. “So fucking gorgeous and all mine.” He groans, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to expose his pre-cum stained boxer briefs.

You moan, “all yours baby.” You shift onto your elbows so you can watch him strip off, his pants kicked aside and his fingers wrap around his cock to slowly pump himself. “I’m yours. Always have been. Since we met.” You promise, chest heaving as he kneels on the bed.

“I wish I had Ava with you.” He admits as he shuffles closer. “You are perfect, great with her too, not just me.” He slides a hand along your thigh. “I used to dream of us being a family.”

You look up at him, “we can have a baby together if you want. Give her a sibling. Not now. But when we are ready.” You tell him.

“Yeah?” He groans quietly, imagining how good you would look round with his baby. “I want that. One day when we’re ready.” He slowly strokes his cock again before moving into position between your thighs.

You inhale deeply, eyes focused on him, and when he notches himself at your entrance, shifting onto his elbows, and you reach up to caress his chest as he starts to push inside of you. “I love you, Francisco.” You murmur softly, looking at him with adoration as he pushes inside of you.

It’s slow. Healing almost, as he closes his eyes. Head pressing against your forehead as he lowers himself on top of you and slides his arms under your back. “I love you, baby.” He promises breathlessly. “So much. You’re my everything.”

You whimper as he pushes into you. “Everything.” You echo, knowing it’s always been true. You caress his back as he pushes deep inside of you and you feel full and complete. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you look at him to take in the moment.

Frankie groans your name when he bottoms out, feeling like he’s home deep inside you. The look of adoration in your eyes makes him want to cry and he knows that Darcy never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning. He leans in and presses his lips to yours, twitching when he does.

You caress every inch of skin you can reach, loving how he feels inside of you, and you kiss him tenderly, unrushed. You want this to last forever. You murmur his name against his lips and he starts to move inside of you, making you gasp.

It’s overwhelming. Every time he rocks his hips he feels like he’s in Heaven. Holding you tight and groaning your name as he kisses you over and over again.

You pant into his mouth, heart pounding and skin on fire as rocks into you. It’s sweet and unhurried and takes your breath away. “Fuck, Frankie. This is better than last time.” You confess as he kisses down your neck.

It is better than the last time. Both of you are sober and there’s no lingering guilt because of Darcy. Nothing but the two of you and the pleasure that your love can bring to each other. “I know.” He rasps out. “Never want it to end.”

“Me neither.” You gasp as he rocks into you and you lift your hip, changing the angle, and it makes your breath hitch as he hits something incredible inside of you. “Shit. There, Frankie.” You pant and he nods, brow furrowing as he rocks into you, focusing on that spot. “Oh God.” You cry softly, “oh shit. That’s - oh I’m gonna-” You whine, clamping down on his cock seconds later.

Stealing his breath, Frankie watches as you come apart under him. Barely able to move as you hold his cock in your spasming walls, he grits his teeth as he tries not to cum. Wanting to make it last a little longer. Although he knows he’s going to wrap himself around you all night rather than slink off in shame.

Your eyes are clenched shut as the pleasure surges through you, making your toes curl, and you know you could never live a day without Frankie. You need him now like you need oxygen. “Fuck baby. I- oh God.” You pant, walls relaxing after you soaked his cock with your cum.

“That’s it, fuck you’re so pretty when you cum.” He praises breathlessly, kissing down your jaw. “Love you so much, need you. Want you forever.” He can’t imagine anything else but you.

His words make your heart pound in your chest and your entire body is responding to him. “I need you. Forever, Francisco. I’ve always been yours. I belong to you.” You promise him with a sigh.

He groans quietly as he starts to move again. Knowing that he will cum soon, he slides a hand between you to rub your clit. “Yours baby, I’m yours.” With Darcy, it had been forced, but with you it’s completely honest. “Want you to cum again, baby.”

You whine softly, overstimulated but he pushes you over into pleasure again and you tangle your fingers in his hair to drag his lips back to yours. You wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper and trapping his hand between you. You whimper into his mouth, getting closer until you fall over the edge again, clamping down on his cock.

This time, Frankie is right there with you. Choking out your name as he pushes deep, wanting to be just as buried as he can manage to be when he starts flooding your womb with his hot seed. Panting with every spurt until he’s collapsing on top of you and pressing his lips to your neck.

You caress his back, eyes closed as you realize he’s safe and you’re together. Everything you ever dreamed to come true is now true and you’ll spend the rest of your life protecting him, loving him. He’s still healing but soon, you want to be his wife, the mother of his children, and spend the rest of your days by his side. It’s a bright future with Frankie, something he never imagined possible: a future with you, him, and your children.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales x f!reader #catfish x reader #catfish x you #catfish x f!reader #triple frontier #tw abuse #tw domestic abuse

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whotfislai · 3 months ago

Text

Focus on you | seventeen, chan!

pairing lee chan & fem reader. (he says girl once)

genre fluff type shi

doei speaks! i love lee chan and you should too😤 ++ dividers came from h-aewo <3

it was one of those nights again. you were cuddled up under your silky sheets, missing your boyfriend.

dating an idol wasn't easy but the two of you made it work. being in LOVE with channie just felt good.

and he felt the same way about being in love with you.

you were the one thing that was constantly on his mind. from when he woke up, to during practice, and deep into the late hours of the night.

and you knew this because when you least expected it....

my channie♡ [12:50]: BABYYY I MISS U SO MUCH!! i need u right now😭

(yn) [12:51]: AWWW i miss u so much more <33

(yn) [12:51]: but its okay, you have an off-day in a couple of weeks from now or something, right?

my channie♡ [12:52]: i think so? but fuck. that's not soon enough.

(yn) [12:53]: i agree w that😔 BUT we'll spend time together soon, we both just have to be patient yk🥰

you weren't sure exactly how soon that would be, but for him, you'd wait and see. (THAT RHYMED AHAHAHAHSHS)

although, you wouldn't have to wait much longer.

around twenty-ish minutes of your conversation, you'd fallen asleep. but only ten minutes later, two notifications from your boyfriend woke you up.

my channie♡ [1:23]: babe, i know you're probably sleeping but i couldn't take it anymore

my channie♡ [1:23]: i need u SO BAD. i forgot my key pls open the door or imma have to break in

and almost immediately after reading his texts, you heard faint knocking at the front door.

"oh...no way..." you whispered to yourself as you tiredly got up, and made your way to the front door.

when you opened it, you were instantly engulfed in the tightest hug. he quite literally swept you off your feet.

but it was sweet, the way he held you so tight, almost cutting off your airflow. and even when he set you down so he could step inside the house, it was only momentarily.

"(yn), baby, i missed you so, so much." he whispered in your ear, pulling you into another breathtaking hug.

you returned the intensity of his hug as best as you could, plastering sweet kisses all over his face in the process.

and oh my god, chan loved every second of it.

"not being able to have you for that long would have KILLED ME, i swear. i just need you for tonight..." he mumbled, giving you a tiny kiss in the crook of your neck.

and then another one, and another one, and....

"lee chan!! you JUST got home, at least cuddle with me first!! gosh, you're so needy for me." you said, half-jokingly.

he laughed, releasing you from his death grip. "so what if i am? you're everything to me (yn). i need you to live y'know, i could DIE."

most people would assume he was joking but to be honest, you weren't too sure he was joking about that.

i mean, he did just sneak out of his dorm at one in the morning to be with you sooooo 🤭!

the two of you headed back into your shared bedroom, and began cuddling one another in bed, when you paused.

"are you sure this is okay?" you whispered, avoiding to look him straight in the eye. "i love that you're here, but what if you get in trouble for leaving? channie please, if you need to go back that's okay, i understand."

chan tilted his head a bit, narrowing his eyes. as much as he disliked worrying you, knowing you cared about the consequences he may face made his heart explode.

he gently pressed his hand to your chin, causing you to look upwards at him.

"(yn)...my sweet, beautiful girl. i couldn't give a shit about any consequence i might face. being with you is worth it all," he cupped your cheek, "and if you thought this was bad, you'll hate the things i plan on doing for you in the future."

before you could ask what the hell he meant by that, he leaned in and gave you a tender kiss on the lips.

so naturally, you brushed it off and decided tonight you'd focus on him.

just as he had been doing to you.

End!ㅤ

thanks for reading! i js love dino SO MUCH & i wanted to write a cute fic for him.

reblog / like it if you enjoyed <3

#〹⠀lai originals #svt #seventeen #svt dino #lee chan #seventeen fic #dino seventeen #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #lee chan x reader #lee chan x you #svt dino x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #lee chan imagines #svt dino imagines #seventeen imagines #svt drabbles

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whereforarthur · 3 months ago

Text

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts

Request: Can you do George Clarkey imagine where reader is a famous singer and he basically follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating. he also gushes about her on the podcast and with Max about her songs and the shows fuelling the rumours

Pairing: George Clarkey x Musician!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Italics= Flashbacks

*****

"So, what's new on the music scene, George?" Max's voice boomed through the podcast studio speakers, setting the tone for another episode of The Useless Hotline.

George Clarke leaned into the microphone, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Well, Max, you know how much I've been into indie rock lately," he began, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "But I've stumbled upon an artist that's absolutely blowing my mind."

Max raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh, really? Who's this mysterious talent that's got you all riled up?"

George paused for dramatic effect before dropping the name. "Y/n."

Max's eyes widened in surprise. "The Y/n? As in the Y/n whose debut album just hit the charts like a meteor?"

"The very same," George affirmed, nodding with an unmistakable glint in his eye. "Her voice is like nothing I've ever heard before—raw, soulful, and with a range that could shatter glass."

Max chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "And it's not just her music that's got you all hot and bothered, is it?" He winked at the George, who turned red. "I've noticed you've been following her tour pretty closely on social media. Care to share any juicy details with us?"

George's cheeks burned as he shuffled his notes, trying to regain his composure. "What? No, no, it's all professional, I assure you," he stammered, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "I'm just keeping tabs on the industry, you know how it is."

Max leaned in, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness. "Oh, I know how it is alright. The way you gush about her tracks, the endless retweets of her concert clips, the heart-eye emojis—it's like you're her number one fan, or something more."

The studio filled with laughter, but George's blush deepened. He cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "Look, she's just incredibly talented, and her live performances are nothing short of mesmerizing. It's all about the music, Max."

*****

In his mind, George replayed the moments he'd spent following Y/n's tour. The show began with a dramatic opening, lights dimming to a pulsing beat before exploding into a cacophony of sound and color. y/n strutted onto the stage, her voice soaring over the cheers of the audience. George watched from the wings, his heart racing. He'd heard her sing countless times before, but there was something about seeing her live that sent chills down his spine. He couldn't help but think about all the times he'd played her music for his fans, hoping they'd feel the same connection he did.

As the night went on, George found himself getting lost in the performance. The way she moved, the emotions she conveyed through her lyrics, it was all so mesmerizing. His phone buzzed in his pocket, notifications from fans bombarding his screen with questions and comments about the rumored romance. He ignored them, not wanting to break the spell. He was living in the moment, and the moment was all about her.

The whispers had started after the third show. Fans had noticed his frequent appearances, and rumors began to swirl. He'd felt a thrill at first—the idea that he could be linked to someone so incredible, so gifted. But as the whispers grew louder, so did the weight of his secret.

Finally, after the encore, the lights dimmed and the applause died down. George took a deep breath and waited for his chance to meet her. His palms were sweaty, his heart racing like it was about to leap out of his chest. When the moment came, she emerged from the dressing room, a vision in a glittering outfit, and their eyes met. For a brief second, the world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them standing in the harsh glow of the backstage lights. He managed a nervous smile, and she returned it with one that was equally as shy. "Hey," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Great show."

Her smile grew, lighting up her eyes. "Thanks," she replied, her voice just as soft. "I've heard a lot about you, George." His cheeks flushed at the mention of his name, and he stumbled over his words, trying to form a coherent response. Before he could say anything more, a handler stepped in, guiding her away to meet more fans and press. But in that brief exchange, George felt something shift. The rumors didn't seem so ridiculous anymore. Maybe, just maybe, there was something real between them after all.

The attraction was undeniable, a force that drew him in like gravity.

Their eyes had lingered a beat too long, and the air between them had crackled with an undeniable electricity. The whispers grew into a murmur, and the rumors began to take on a life of their own. Fans took to social media, posting photos of them together, dissecting every shared glance, every accidental touch. The media picked up on it, and soon, their faces were plastered across tabloids with headlines that made George's heart race.

As the tour progressed, the connection between George and Y/n grew stronger. Stolen moments backstage turned into lingering glances from across crowded venues. They'd share whispers and smiles, their bond a secret language that only they understood. It was love at first sight for both of them, a connection so profound that it seemed to transcend the noise and chaos of the music industry.

In the quiet moments between shows, they'd sit together, sharing stories about their lives, their dreams, and their fears. Y/n spoke of her rise to fame, the sacrifices she'd made, and the solace she found in her music. George, in turn, revealed his own aspirations, his love for podcasting, and the joy he found in sharing his thoughts with the world. Their conversations were a symphony of shared passion and understanding, a respite from the relentless glare of the spotlight.

*****

"Earth to George," Max's voice echoed through the podcast studio, pulling him from his reverie. "You still with us, mate?"

George blinked, snapping out of his daydream. "Yeah, sorry, Max. Just lost in thought about the tour."

"Oh, I bet you were," Max said with a knowing smile. "But come on, George, don't hold out on us. You've got to admit, there's more to it than just her music."

George's cheeks grew even redder as he stumbled over his words. "I-it's not like that, Max. I'm just…supporting her career."

Max chuckled, not quite buying his friend's protest. "Sure, George, sure. You're just 'supporting' her career." He winked at their podcast audience, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Max, George's co-host, had been equally as thrilled for him, egging him on during their podcast episodes. "Come on, mate," Max would say, his grin audible through the microphone, "spill the tea! What's it like being backstage with the hottest singer in the biz?" George had been playing it cool, but the listeners could sense the excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. They'd been shipping George and y/n since the first time he'd played her song on their show, and every little detail George shared just added fuel to the fire.

George took a deep breath, trying to balance his desire to protect Y/n's privacy with the thrill of being part of her world. "Okay, okay," he conceded, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Let's just say that I've had the privilege of seeing a side of her that not everyone gets to. She's not just a rockstar; she's also incredibly kind, and her dedication to her craft is inspiring."

Max leaned in, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah, so you're saying there's some backstage magic happening, huh?"

George chuckled, playing along. "Well, let's just say that there's definitely a connection," he teased, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But you'll have to tune in to my vlog for the juicy details."

Max slapped the table, grinning. "Ah, the plot thickens! You're killing us with suspense, George!"

George couldn't help but laugh, the energy in the room contagious. "Alright, alright. I'll admit, we've become…close." He paused, searching for the right words. "But it's all very respectful and professional, of course."

Max leaned back in his chair, his smile widening. "Respectful and professional, huh? That's not what the internet's saying."

George rolled his eyes, playing it cool. "The internet says a lot of things, Max. You know how it is—fans get a little carried away."

But the more he talked about Y/n, the harder it became to keep his feelings in check. Her music had become the soundtrack to his life, and the thought of her made his heart swell with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

The podcast went on, the conversation shifting to other topics, but George's mind remained firmly on Y/n. He'd never felt so alive, so invigorated by someone's presence. Her music had become the score to their budding romance, a secret symphony played just for them amidst the cacophony of the tour.

The banter went on, but George remained tight-lipped about the details of their conversation. He didn't want to jinx it. The rumors grew wilder, and their listeners were eating it up. Fan art began to flood their social media pages, depicting the two of them in various romantic scenarios. It was all in good fun, but George couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than just a backstage meeting.

*****

Days turned into weeks, and George found himself backstage at more of y/n's shows. Each time, their interactions grew longer, more intimate. They'd share quiet moments between the cacophony of the tour, discussing music, life on the road, and their shared love for London. The connection grew stronger, and the line between fan and friend began to blur. Yet, George remained respectful, never crossing the boundary, not wanting to ruin the magic of their budding relationship.

One night, after a particularly emotional performance, y/n sought him out in the crowded backstage area. She looked tired but exhilarated, her eyes searching his face for something he wasn't sure he could give. "You know," she said, her voice low and serious, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said on your podcast. About my music, about us." George's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep his cool. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. "I think there might be something here, George. Something real."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the noise of the venue fading away as she spoke. George felt his entire world shift, and he knew that whatever happened next would change the course of his life. He looked at her, this incredible woman whose music had captured his heart, and he knew he had to be honest. "Me too," he murmured, and she leaned in, closing the distance between them. As their lips met, the cheers of the crowd outside seemed to crescendo, as if the universe itself was applauding their newfound love.

*****

After the podcast wrapped up, George sat in the quiet studio, his thoughts racing. He knew the rumors would only grow stronger, the paparazzi more relentless. He didn't want to cause her any trouble, didn't want to be the reason she was hounded by the media. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and typed out a message to her. "Let's keep it low-key for a bit longer," he wrote. "The music's all that matters right now."

Y/n's response was almost instant. "You're right," she texted back. "But it's getting harder to hide this."

George couldn't argue with that. Every time they were together, the chemistry between them was palpable, a magnetic force that seemed to pulse in the air. It was like trying to contain a raging storm in a teacup—eventually, something was going to spill over.

The next few concerts were a dance of restraint, their hands brushing together backstage, the lingering hugs that were just a little too tight, the stolen kisses when they thought no one was looking. The tension grew with every passing day, a delicious agony that only served to deepen their connection. Y/n had become his muse, her every move, every note, inspiring his own creativity.

But the whispers grew louder, the glances from the sidelines more pointed. The pressure mounted, a silent crescendo that seemed to crescendo with each show. Y/n leaned into his ear one night, her voice a breathless whisper. "I don't know how much longer I can keep my hands off you in public," she confessed, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

The words sent a jolt of electricity through George, his heart racing. He knew what she meant; the desire between them was a living entity, pulsing with every beat of their hearts. In the privacy of her dressing room, they'd come close to giving in more times than he could count. But the fear of ruining her reputation, of being the tabloid fodder that could overshadow her music, kept them from crossing that line.

Yet, the anticipation was killing them both, a thrill that only grew with each secret glance and stolen touch. The rumors had spun into a tornado of speculation, and it was only a matter of time before they were caught in the storm. So, after weeks of careful deliberation, they decided to take control of the narrative.

*****

One evening, after the final notes of Y/n's breathtaking performance had faded into the night, George took to the stage. The crowd roared with excitement, not expecting the podcast host to make an appearance. With a shaky smile, he gripped the microphone, his heart hammering like a drum solo. "Thank you all for being here tonight," he began, his voice carrying over the hushed whispers of the audience. "I know you're all here for the music, but I have an announcement to make."

The air in the venue grew thick with anticipation as Y/n joined him, her hand slipping into his. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with excitement and nerves, and he knew this was it—the moment they'd both been dreading and craving. "We wanted to share something with you," George continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "Something that's been brewing between us for a while now."

The crowd held its collective breath, the anticipation so intense it seemed to hum through the air. Y/n leaned into the microphone, her voice clear and steady. "George and I have become more than just friends over the course of this tour." The stadium erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps, phones rising like stars in the night sky, capturing every moment.

"Yes," she said, a playful smile curving her lips, "I've officially taken George Clarke off the market." The crowd went wild, their screams a testament to the love and support that had been growing alongside the whispers and rumors. For George, it was a moment of pure exhilaration and terror, his heart racing as he felt the weight of their secret lifted from his shoulders.

They stepped closer, the stage lights casting a warm glow over them as they announced their relationship to the world. Y/n leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek. "Thank you for being patient," she murmured, her voice lost in the cacophony of the crowd.

George swallowed hard, his heart hammering like a bass drum in his chest. "Thank you for trusting me," he whispered back, his eyes never leaving hers.

The crowd's applause grew deafening, their cheers a cacophony of love and excitement. They leaned in, their faces inches apart, the moment stretching out like a chord in one of Y/n's soulful ballads. And then, as if propelled by the very music that had brought them together, they kissed. It was a kiss that spoke of passion, of hope, and of a love that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.

The news of their relationship spread like wildfire across the internet, setting social media ablaze with reactions. Fans, thrilled by the revelation, flooded their comments with congratulations and well-wishes. The media, ever hungry for a good love story, feasted on the details of their whirlwind romance. Yet amidst the chaos, George and Y/n found refuge in each other's arms, their bond stronger than ever.

In the days that followed, the tour took on a new energy. The chemistry between them was no longer hidden behind the guise of friendship; it was a living, breathing force that electrified the air. Every shared glance, every touch, was met with an appreciative roar from the audience, who reviled in the authenticity of their love.

The rumors had become reality, and George Clarke, the YouTuber with a crush, was now George Clarke, the man with the world's most enviable backstage pass. But it wasn't about the fame or the gossip; it was about the connection, the shared passion for music, and the undeniable spark that had drawn them together. And as they navigated the highs and lows of a very public relationship, they'd learn that sometimes, the most beautiful melodies are the ones that unfold when you least expect them.

Their relationship didn't just survive the spotlight; it thrived in it. Y/n's music grew more intimate, her lyrics now echoing the depth of their feelings, and George's podcasts grew more personal, his voice resonating with the joy he found in supporting her. They became the ultimate power couple, a testament to the idea that love could bloom in the most unexpected of places.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23

#george clarkey #george clarke fics #george clarke fluff #george clarkey x reader #usless hotline podcast #imagine #british youtubers #fluff

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years ago

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Never Let You Go

Joel Miller x fem!reader (no use of y/n) Word count- 3.2k Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), fight/argument, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, making up, love confessions, feelings, light dirty talk and praise kink, unprotected sex, set in the Jackson part of the show/game Notes- Inspired by a thought from discord that I just had to write into a full fic! And added a little romantic smut too cause gotta have that happy ending after that angst lol! The angst was very cathartic for me tow rite since I’ve been going through it lately too lol. Enjoy! Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates

Jackson was like a dream. After living in the QZ for so long and then making the dangerous trip across the country with Joel and Ellie, it felt surreal that there was a settlement of people living so peacefully. Laughter rang everywhere you went, and the kindness was a welcome change of pace. Not to mention a clean house, a warm meal and a hot shower felt like heaven on earth.

But the feeling of paradise didn’t last long when Joel came up to you with a serious look on his face. “Hey,” his tone was low and he held a calmness in his eyes.

Your face dropped, “What is it, Joel?”

“We gotta talk,” he sighed as he crossed his arms.

“Something wrong?” you asked as your nerves tingled under your skin. You knew by the look on Joel’s face that something was in his mind, and it scared you to wonder what was going through his head. After traveling across the country with him and Ellie, you liked to think you knew him well… and you held a secret longing in your heart for him. But right now, a chill ran through your veins and you had no idea what was coming next.

“Now that we’re here, I think you should stay.” Joel sounded cold as he spoke. As much as he hated to break your heart like this, he told himself that this was for the best. This was the best way to keep you safe and out of danger. He had too many close calls on the road, and the thought of losing you was too much for him to bear. It was a stab in the heart to see that look on your face and the tears in your eyes, but if it kept you safe, Joel would find a way to manage.

“What?” you snapped in a burst of emotions, “Stay?”

“Yeah,” Joel huffed as he hid his true feelings under the anger that suddenly exploded between you, “This place has everything you need. You can build a new life here. You’ll be happy. Trust me, this is the best for you.“

“Don’t make my decision for me, Joel. You should know me better than to do that.” The rage bubbled to the surface as tears filled your eyes and you stared at him, “Why?” was the first question that popped into your head after several moments of tense silence.

“Because,” Joel’s tone turned more sour as he sounded harsher than he meant to, “You’re better off here. It’s best this way.”

From behind you, Ellie’s face appeared in the shadows. She watched with wide eyes as the two of you went back and forth, but she decided to stay silent. You didn’t even know she was there, but Joel caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye.

“So after everything we’ve been through, you’re just dumping me off here? Don’t I mean anything to you?” There it was: the hurt under all the animosity. And it was palpable as your voice broke.

Joel’s jaw clenched but he stayed silent.

And that only made you angrier, “What is this, you think I can’t handle myself out there? That I’m a fucking liability or something? Is that it, Joel? I’m not a damsel in distress you know!”

“It’s not…” He couldn’t keep up the facade anymore as you broke down in front of him. Suddenly, Joel regretted ever bringing it up in the first place.

“Save it,” you spat as you turned to leave, “Fine. Have it your way. Good luck with everything,” your tone was harsh and low as you walked out the door and slammed it behind you.

Joel watched you leave with tears in his eyes, but he stayed frozen in place. His heart pounded in his chest as all the unspoken words ate him up inside. He wanted to tell you the truth of why he wanted you to stay in Jackson. He wanted to tell you exactly how he felt, But he couldn’t risk that. Not when he’d already lost so much.

“Joel!” Ellie’s voice rang from where he hid in the shadows, “What the fuck are you doing? Go after her!” She ran up and tugged at his arm.

“Ellie it ain’t that simple,” Joel signed as he turned and walked towards the bedroom, “She’s too angry right now anyway…” …And I blew it…

“Joel…”

“Ellie!” Joel snapped back louder than he meant to. When he saw Ellie’s wide eyes, he took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone, “Enough,” he sounded exasperated as he closed the door to the bedroom, leaving Ellie alone in the flurry of emotions that both of you left behind. Behind closed doors, Joel buried his head in his hands as his own tears soaked his skin.

Fuck…

The cold air nipped at your skin as you sat outside in the snow. You walked around Jackson aimlessly for hours until your legs screamed at you to rest. So, you stopped somewhere in the outskirts of the town and sat on a log. The spot you picked was up on a hill, and it gave you the perfect view of Jackson.

You watched all the people in the distance as you stayed in your solitude. A fresh layer of snow made the ground glisten and your eyes traced the footsteps that the people left behind. Chatter echoed from the crowd that gathered in the middle of town, and you watched with a solemn expression as families gathered together.

Couples nuzzled together in front of the glittering lights. Lovers brought their partners mugs of warm drinks to share together. Families laughed together like the world hadn’t fallen apart around them. For the first time in a long time, you saw so many smiling faces. Instead of it bringing you comfort, though, it only brought you sadness.

A sharp shiver escaped your lips as a chill ran up your skin. Goosebumps erupted on your arms under the thin coat you wore, and you wished you had grabbed something thicker before you stormed out on Joel. Your teeth chattered as you sat alone in the cold…

But, that chill suddenly vanished when you felt a new layer of warmth across your shoulders and back. You gasped as you turned around and saw Joel next to you as he slung his warm jacket over your shoulders. He held a melancholy look in his eyes as he sat down next to you without a word.

“Joel…” you snarled. When he just looked forward, watching the crowd that had captivated you to the point where you didn’t hear him walk up behind you, you softened, “Thank you.”

He sighed your name, “You’re welcome.”

You stared at Joel for several long moments, studying his features. Scars littered his face, but they only made him more handsome to you. The sharp angle of his nose and the softness in his eyes captivated you from the moment you met. When he exhaled, your eyes landed on his lips, and you wondered what it was like to kiss them.

And as furious as you were at Joel for what he said earlier, you couldn’t help but feel calm and safe with him just sitting beside you in this comfortable silence. There was just something about him that you couldn’t pull away from even if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” Joel broke the silence with a confession that caught you off guard.

This time it was your turn to stay silent as he turned and faced you. The look on his face made your heart skip a beat, and the sorrow in his eyes made you want to pull him close and hold him tight. But, you could also tell he had more to say, so you let him continue.

“I don’t think you can’t handle yourself. And you ain’t a liability. It ain't nothing like that at all,” Joel spoke in a soft tone but one that still held all the emotions he kept buried, “The truth is…” he sighed as his gaze dropped to the ground, “I was afraid.”

“You? Afraid?” you scoffed, “Joel you’re the toughest man I know. I’ve seen you take on a clicker with just a rusty shiv. You protected me and Ellie all this time. So what…?”

“I love you,” Joel interrupted you with another confession that took you by surprise.

“What?” Your voice was hushed as you gasped.

Joel sighed as he buried his face in his hands for a moment before he turned to you again, “The reason I’m afraid, baby… Is because I fucking love you. The thought of losing you is just…” he sobbed softly, “Fuck, I can’t even bare it if anything happened to you. You and Ellie… You’re everything to me now.”

“Joel,” you breathed as you scooted yourself closer and cupped his face, “Call me that again.”

A flash of a grin lit up his face, “Baby…”

You looked deep into his eyes, and the mistiness you saw there brought on tears of your own. You rubbed your thumbs across his beard a few times before you crashed your lips to his. Joel let out a muffled groan, but quickly reciprocated the kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in even closer as he deepened the kiss.

Even in the cold, a warmth spread between your bodies as you held each other tightly. Your hands grasped at his jaw as you tasted Joel on your tongue. You moaned softly into his mouth, and it only spurred him on more as he ran his hands up and down your back. Between the warmth of his jacket and the explosion of emotions between you both, the icy fingers of the winter air melted away.

When you broke away for air, you rested your forehead against Joel’s, “I love you too, Joel. I have for a long fucking time.” You were quiet again as you just stared into his eyes, “From now on, we work together, ok? Don’t push me away.”

“Yes ma’am,” the smile that lit up Joel’s face made your heart flutter and the way he squeezed your waist sent a pulse through your body that went right to your core. “How about you and I get out of here then,” Joel’s low tone made you whimper with need and suddenly a new feeling took over your body and your mind.

“Let’s go,” you murmured in a matching tone.

Joel stood, taking you with him, and he never let you go on the walk back to the house that Tommy and Maria set you all up in. When you crossed the door, Joel shrugged his jacket off of you and called out into the house, “Ellie?”

When it was silent, you made your way into the living room where a note sat on the table, “Joel,” you called out to him as you read the note, “Ellie went to the movies with the other kids in town. We have the place to ourselves for a while.”

Joel came up behind you and snaked his arms around you, pulling you close as he groaned in your ear, “Good,” he bucked his hips against your body, “Cause I’d hate to have to keep you quiet after finally having you to myself, baby.”

“Joel…” you moaned as you turned around and faced him, “Who knew you had such a mouth on you,” you quipped back before he took your lips with his in another deep, heated kiss.

“I’ve thought about this for so long, baby,” Joel purred as he led you through the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, “You have no idea how long I wanted to hold you and never let you go.”

“Then hold me and never let me go, Joel.”

He let out a single soft laugh, “Yes ma’am,” he repeated himself in a softer tone as he kissed you again.

As much as he wanted to take his time with you, the need was also too great to take it slow. In what felt like a flash, you both had stumbled your way into the bedroom, kissing each other and ripping clothes off as you went. You didn’t even notice the bed until your legs hit the edge and you tumbled backwards and landed on your back with Joel on top of you. Both of you let out loud huffs as the air was forced out of your lungs but you immediately broke out into laughter.

“Now I’m extra glad I got to have a shower,” you joked.

“Doesn't matter to me, baby,” Joel groaned, “I’d still have you either way. I ain’t scared of a little dirt and sweat.”

“Joel,” you playfully slapped his shoulder before your laughter dissipated and you admired every inch of skin that was now exposed to you. Your mouth dropped open as you couldn’t help but gawk at Joel naked on top of you, “Wow…” you breathed in awe.

He dropped his head and let the tufts of hair hide his face as he took the opportunity to admire you as well, “Fuck baby you’re so beautiful.”

Before you could retort, Joel took your lips with his once more, but this time the kiss was slow and deep. His hips rocked against yours as his tongue danced in the same rhythm. Joel’s hardened cock dragged along your wet folds as he swallowed the moans you let out from his actions.

“Baby, as much as I wanna take my time with you, I don’t think I can right now,” Joel pleaded.

“Then fuck me, Joel,” you moaned, “I don’t care… I need you too bad.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he nudged his cock at your entrance, “I swear baby, next time I’m gonna take my time with you,” Joel moaned as he slowly pushed the tip past your first ring of muscle, “I’m gonna spend hours between your legs before I fuck you. Then I’m gonna fuck you til the sun comes up.”

“Oh fuck… Joel…” your mind swam as he pushed himself inside you inch by inch while whispering sweet praises in your ear. Between his cock stretching you out and the way he spoke, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“You alright, baby?” Joel cupped the side of your face as he continued to slowly sheath himself inside you.

“Yes,” you replied immediately, “Please Joel… Keep going…”

“Shit baby…”

Joel covered your body with his own and buried his face in the crook of your neck as his hips met yours. Both of you moaned loudly as your bodies connected and he buried his cock completely inside you. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and dug your nails into his back.

“Move Joel… Please…”

Unable to deny you, Joel groaned your name as he rocked his hips back and snapped them forward, slamming his cock deep inside you. Both of you cried out in harmony as he thrust his hips again and again in a steady rhythm. You threw your head back as tears filled the corners of your eyes. To you and Joel, the entire world melted away and all that was left was each other as he filled you over and over again.

“Fuck… Joel… I’m gonna…” you moaned as you clung to him tighter.

“Fuck baby… Me too…”

Joel sped up his thrusts as you both chased your climaxes. And between the heat of the moment and the high emotions, it didn’t take long for you both to fall apart. You and Joel clawed at each other as you came one right after the other. Moans and cries and incoherent praises echoed between you two as you rode out your climaxes together. Even in the cold, sweat lined your bodies as you both trembled from the weight of your orgasms until you both completely collapsed.

You held Joel close as he let himself flop on top of you, his cock still buried inside you. Neither of you wanted to move even if you could, and you placed soft kisses along his hairline. You felt Joel mirror your action as he kissed along your shoulder and whenever he could reach. Heavy breaths were the only sound in the room as you both recovered your strength.

With a groan, Joel eventually pushed himself up and pulled out of you before he collapsed next to you. Immediately, you nuzzled yourself into his open arms and rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you closed your eyes contently. The beat of Joel’s heat reminded you that he was still there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. And the feeling of you in his arms told Joel that you were here, and you weren’t going anywhere. Together, you stayed happy in the other’s arms.

And sleep would have taken you over if it weren’t for the sound of the front door opening and Ellie calling both your names.

“Anyone here?” she called into the quiet house.

“Upstairs, Ellie… But don’t come up here,” you called out to her with a giggle.

Even without seeing her, you knew that Ellie rolled her eyes at you, “Ok gross!” she couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t go traumatizing children here!”

“Ellie!” Joel chastised.

She stomped up the stairs as loudly as possible, “I am here!” Ellie enunciated every word with a stomp, “Just going to my room,” she hollered as she reached the door and slammed it shut behind her, “I gotta find earmuffs or something,” she muttered to herself. Truly though, Ellie was happy the two of you made up, “It’s about fucking time.” If she had anyone to bet with, Ellie would have wagered how long it would take you and Joel to finally realize your feelings for the other.

Your eyes never left Joel’s face as the two of you listened to Ellie’s dramatic display. You couldn’t help but smile brightly as he rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. But, when he felt you staring, he turned and met your gaze.

“What is it?” Joel asked.

“Nothing,” you sighed dreamily, “It’s just… This is nice,” you gestured to the room, “It feels right, you know?”

Joel let out a short laugh as he gave you a squeeze, “It does…”

“Promise me it’ll be like this after we’re done,” you said, “The three of us together like this…” …like family.

Joel leaned forward and placed a long kiss on your forehead, “I promise baby,” his low tone made your heart skip a beat, “I ain’t coming back without both of you.”

You closed your eyes contently as you leaned into his embrace. Neither of you spoke the words that were on the tip of your tongues, but you both knew from the way you held the other what was left unsaid.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Joel muttered as he made himself comfortable and pulled you in so that your head rested on his shoulder and his arms stayed securely wrapped around you.

And Joel looked forward to the days that would end like this: with the ones he loved safe under the same roof. For Joel, that was paradise and worth fighting for.

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cheynovak · 3 months ago

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Texas sky – part 5

Summary: Y/N, a former cast member of Supernatural, had left Texas for LA several years ago, citing career reasons but also escaping unresolved personal issues. During a reunion party in Austin, she reconnects with Jensen Ackles, who is still married to Danneel but also struggling with his own difficulties. He confronts Y/N about her sudden departure and their past, hoping things might turn out differently this time.

Warnings: Friend to lovers, old love rediscovering, marriage problems, cheating, alcohol, hurt, anger, fluff, story with smut, ...

English is not my first language

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

The morning started like any other, with the familiar ding of notifications pulling me out of bed. I absentmindedly scrolled through my social media, expecting the usual flood of fan posts and pictures from conventions. Jensen had been overseas for weeks, and while I tried to keep my distance, his texts and calls were a constant reminder of the unresolved tension between us. I could feel in my bones that he was going to beg me to reconsider, to give him more time, to hold on just a little longer. But I was exhausted, worn down by the emotional toll of it all. I didn’t think I had another fight left in me.

Then I saw it.

My thumb hovered over the screen as the headlines and fan theories exploded across my feed. Fans were buzzing with speculation, piecing together clues that had been floating around for days. The most glaring detail? Jensen hadn’t been wearing his wedding ring. But nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

A video from a panel Danneel had done the day before started autoplaying on my feed. She stood alone on stage, her expression a mix of bitterness and sadness. My heart raced as I hit play, dreading what I was about to hear.

Danneel didn’t mince words. She addressed the rumors head-on, explaining that she and Jensen were separated. She paused, her gaze hardening, and then she dropped the bombshell that made my stomach twist into knots.

“He’s been unfaithful,” she said, her voice cold and steady. The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. “That’s why I’ve chosen not to do any photo ops with him. I need to take care of myself, and I won’t pretend everything’s fine when it’s not.”

I could barely breathe as I watched the video, my heart sinking further with every word. Danneel’s accusation felt like a punch to the gut, the kind that knocks the wind out of you and leaves you reeling. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.

She told the people she had her suspicions for a very long time, she didn't say my name but she mentioned it being a long time friend and co worker of him. The implications of what she was saying were too much to process. I knew there were problems between them, that much was clear, but hearing it confirmed in such a public, final way was devastating.

In the following panels, I saw Jensen trying desperately to put out the fire. His attempts to smooth things over were met with mixed reactions, the fans divided between those who supported him and those who sided with Danneel.

He explained it wasn't just a one time thing, that he fell in love and fell hard, that he and Danneel had been together for the public eye, not wanting to discuss anything publicly. Asking for his kids sake to let it be. Even though she made his life a living hell, he never said one bad word about Danneel. Taking the blame all on him.

The speculation was growing, spreading like wildfire across social media. It felt like the walls were closing in, the secret world we had shared crumbling around us.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I glanced down to see a text from Jensen.

“Call me. Please.”

My hand shook as I read the message, the words blurring on the screen as tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to call him, to hear his voice and somehow make sense of this mess. But I was paralyzed, unable to move, my thoughts spinning out of control.

I knew Jensen would beg me to stay, to stick by him through this storm. He would tell me he loved me, that he needed more time to figure things out. But Danneel’s words kept echoing in my mind, louder and louder until I couldn’t think straight.

“He’s been unfaithful.”

The guilt hit me like a tidal wave, pulling me under and drowning me in regret. I had been the reason for their separation, I was the one who had pushed Jensen to this point? The thought was unbearable, a weight on my chest that made it hard to breathe.

I felt horrible.

With trembling hands, I typed out a reply.

“J, I know we need to talk, but not like this. Not now. I’m sorry.”

I tried to hold my ground, to keep the distance I knew we needed, but Jensen didn’t let go. My phone rang again, his name flashing on the screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Then, a notification popped up—voicemail. I hesitated, knowing that whatever he had to say would only make this harder, but I couldn’t ignore it.

With a deep breath, I pressed play. The moment his voice filled my ears, my heart broke all over again. He sounded devastated, his words shaky and broken, and I could hear the unmistakable sound of tears in his voice.

“Please, just listen,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know she was going to do this. Before we left for Europe, Danneel said she wanted to come along to help our relationship, to work on us. I thought... I thought we were going to, I don't know, talk about how to work things out with the kids and divorce and all. I tried to reach you, to tell that I left her. Please just... call me."

He took a deep breath.

"She blindsided me. I had no idea she was planning to say all that. I swear, I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

He paused, his breath hitching as he tried to compose himself, but the next words came out in a choked sob. “I love you. I need you. Please, don’t shut me out. I don’t know what to do without you.”

The voicemail ended, leaving me sitting there in silence, my chest aching with the weight of his words. I could picture him, alone and broken, thousands of miles away, and the thought of him hurting like this was unbearable.

I couldn’t keep doing this to him, or to myself.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and called him back. The line barely rang before he picked up.

“Jensen,” I said, my voice trembling. “Where are you?”

He sounded relieved, almost desperate as he answered. “I’m in London for a couple of days. I would really want to see you.”

I didn’t hesitate. As soon as I hung up, I booked the next flight out. I didn’t know what I was going to say when I saw him, but I knew I had to be there. The distance, the silence, none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was that he needed me, and I couldn’t let him go through this alone.

The hours until my flight felt like an eternity, my mind racing with what might happen when I arrived. Part of me was scared, terrified of what this might mean for us, for the mess that our lives had become. But another part of me, the part that still loved him with every fiber of my being, knew that I couldn’t stay away.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, I boarded the plane. The flight was a blur, my thoughts consumed by the sound of his voice in that voicemail, the pain in his words. I replayed it over and over in my mind, each time feeling the tug of his need pulling me closer to him.

When the plane touched down in London, I was filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. I knew that whatever happened next could change everything, but I couldn’t let that stop me. Jensen needed me, and that was all that mattered.

I stepped out of the terminal, my heart pounding as I scanned the crowd for him. And then I saw him—standing there, looking as lost as I felt, his eyes searching for me wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. The moment our eyes met, all the fear and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a deep, undeniable pull towards him.

I walked towards him, my steps quickening as I closed the distance between us. He looked exhausted, his face etched with pain and sleepless nights, but the moment I reached him, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he buried his face in my hair. “I never meant for any of this to happen, not like this not publicly.”

I held him tight, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and for the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to let go. The weight of everything we’d been through seemed to melt away as I pressed my lips to his, not caring if anyone saw. Jensen didn’t care either; he kissed me back with a desperation that made my heart ache.

When we finally pulled away, I noticed a few people in the crowd recognizing him—recognizing us. But Jensen didn’t flinch. He grabbed my luggage with one hand, keeping his other arm securely around my waist as we made our way through the terminal. He only stopped once, briefly, to sign an autograph for a fan who had hesitated before approaching us.

“No pictures today,” he said gently, offering a tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The fan nodded, understanding, and thanked him before Jensen turned back to me and we continued walking.

I’d seen Jensen interact with fans countless times, and he almost never turned down a request for a photo. But today, I could see why he had to say no. He looked exhausted, like the life had been sucked out of him, his usual energy replaced by something heavy and dark.

We finally made it to his hotel room, the door closing behind us with a soft click. The room was quiet, almost eerily so, a stark contrast to the chaos that had been swirling around us. Jensen set my luggage down and turned to me, his expression a mix of relief and something deeper—something that spoke to how much he had been holding in.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, stepping closer to him. “Of course, J. I couldn’t just stay away, I just... needed time.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek as he searched my eyes for something—reassurance, comfort, maybe even forgiveness. “I’ve missed you so much,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t know what to do, how to fix any of this.”

I took his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Don't we always?”

Jensen pulled me into another embrace, holding on like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for a moment, we just stood there, clinging to each other as if the world outside didn’t exist.

After a few minutes, Jensen finally pulled back, his eyes searching mine.

We moved over to the couch, and he sat down beside me, our legs brushing against each other. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his back.

“Talk to me, Jensen,” I urged gently. “What’s going on in your head?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the couch. “Everything’s a mess,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought I could keep it together, keep everything separate, but it’s all falling apart. I never though she would hit such a low blow."

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension radiate through him. “You told her about us?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the question hung between us, the answer holding so much more than just words.

Jensen nodded, his eyes clouded with a mixture of regret and resolve. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I told her everything. About how I feel about you… how I’ve always felt.” He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. “She tried to dismiss it, saying it would change, that it was just a phase, but I told her it wasn’t. I asked for a divorce.”

My breath caught at his admission. “And?”

“She said no,” Jensen replied, a bitter edge to his tone. “She’s refusing to let go, saying I’ll come around, that it’s just a rough patch. But now she’s telling everyone her side, twisting the story to make it look like I’m the one at fault, that I’ve been unfaithful. She’s dealing the cards her way, trying to make me the villain.”

"And I know in a way I am guilty, I did cheat I know that. But no one knows how many year I put up with her, just for the kids."

The pain in his eyes was palpable, and without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him, pouring every ounce of my feelings into it, hoping to ease the hurt even just a little. When I pulled back, his gaze was searching mine, fear flickering in his eyes.

“I’m afraid this will push you away again,” he confessed, his voice trembling slightly.

I shook my head firmly, realizing in that moment that he had chosen me, that despite everything, he was here with me. “I’ll never leave you,” I promised, my voice steady with certainty.

Relief washed over his features as he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me like he was afraid I might slip away if he let go. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

But I silenced him before he could continue, pressing my lips to his in a heated kiss, pouring everything into it—my love, my fear, my hope. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling, our bodies molding together as if trying to erase the distance that had been between us for so long.

His hands moved to cup my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn’t realized had started to fall. “I love you,” he whispered against my lips, the words raw and filled with a desperation that mirrored my own.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, the truth of it echoing in every beat of my heart. "I've always loved you." The confession hung in the air between us, a truth that had been buried for far too long. Jensen pulled me closer, his hands wandering over my body as if trying to memorize every inch of me. I could feel the tension in his grip, the way his fingers trembled slightly as they traced the curves of my back.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes. The raw emotion in his words tugged at my heart, and I nodded, feeling my own tears threatening to spill over.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied softly, my voice thick with emotion. I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, trying to offer some comfort. “It’s late, J. You probably need to get some sleep.”

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before. “Will you stay tonight?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid I might say no.

I smiled softly, my heart swelling with love for him. “If you want me to,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’ll stay every night from now on.”

The relief that washed over his face was palpable, and he pulled me into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck whispering. "I'd hoped you'd say that."

Jensen crawled into bed, his movements slow and heavy with exhaustion. From the bathroom, I watched him through the open door, brushing my teeth as I saw him fighting to stay awake. His eyelids drooped, and I could see the weight of everything he’d been carrying in the lines of his face. It broke my heart to see him like this—a wonderful man who didn’t deserve any of the distress he was going through.

As I rinsed my mouth, my thoughts drifted to all the “what ifs” that had haunted me for so long. What if I had been more straightforward about my feelings from the beginning? Would he returned the feelings a little earlier?

What if I had let him stay that night before his wedding, when he had been so vulnerable and unsure? Could I have saved him from all of this?

But those thoughts were a double-edged sword, filled with regret and longing. All I wanted now was for him to be happy, to find some peace in the chaos that had become his life.

When I finally joined him in bed, sliding under the covers, I felt his arm instinctively wrap around me. He muttered something under his breath, his voice thick with sleep, “It’s about time,” he said, his words barely audible as he nestled his face against my chest.

I kissed his hair, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away as he held me close. “Sleep now,” I whispered, my fingers gently running through his hair in soothing strokes.

Jensen let out a content sigh, his breath warm against my skin. His body relaxed completely, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbed to the exhaustion that had been plaguing him. I held him like that, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a sense of calm between us.

As I lay there, watching over him while he slept, I made a silent promise to myself—to do whatever it took to make sure he found happiness, to stand by him through whatever came next. And as the night wore on, with Jensen safe in my arms, I finally felt like we were on the path to something better.

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jasntodds · 11 months ago

Text

Petrichor [14]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 15,441

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse, description of withdrawal, mentions of scars, jason's self-hatred, hurt/comfort, a little blood

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Because I decided to start fixing things last chapter, I had to rewrite this entire chapter lmao so I'm sorry it's late!! I also split this chapter into 2 parts because it was over 30k words please help lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The next morning, Jason shoots awake from a nightmare but outside of the initial panic and rumbling heartbeat he almost feels too accustomed to, he’s confused. His eyes are on the dresser on the opposite wall and it takes him a minute to process how he even got here. The last clear thing he remembers is choking and not being able to breathe because Crane drugged him. Jason sucks in a few breaths, brows pulling together as he shakes the nightmare away and tries to piece together details from last night.

It’s all a little foggy and jumbled but he remembers being duct taped and Crane saying something about destroying the Titans and then you. Then he remembers the pump station, being tied up there. Then, he remembers you completely suited up and your hands on his cheeks, panic in your eyes.

Jason’s heart thunders again, realizing it was you that brought him back here.

You came to find him.

His head feels like it’s going to explode. A migraine is kicking in his skull as if it’s armed with a battering ram. The more he tries to remember details, the more his head hurts but he tries away. And he looks down, realizing he’s not in the Red Hood gear anymore but he has no memory of changing. Something about missing large pieces of time is scary and frustrating. So much could have happened and he just has no memory of it. And he’s thinking something went wrong, maybe he did or said something because you aren’t here and he knows what happened with you two. But, if you showed up to save him, you wouldn’t just leave unless you had a good reason. You’d always stay to make sure he were okay and then you’d probably tell him off and leave. But, you're not here.

What did he do now?

He puts his head in his hands, groaning loudly. His head starts to spin and his stomach cramps into knots. It twists and turns sending him into a nauseous spin. His bones feel wrong, like they want to vibrate out of his own skin and he feels sweaty but he’s cold. He’s frustrated and alone and devastated and going through withdrawal and everything sucks. He really had to go fuck it all up. Nothing was really all that bad, not compared to how it is now and he’d do anything to go back there. At this point, he might even take the paralyzing fear and panic attacks.

Jason sucks in a breath, lifting his head before he looks to the side of the mattress to try to will himself to get up but that’s when he sees a piece of paper. He plucks it up, unfolding it.

“Kidnappers: 0 You and me: 4 - Y/n <3”

Jason’s chest feels warm as a small smile starts to tug at his lips. Of all the things you could write in a note, it would be that. His eyes stay on the note and maybe you did have to go for another reason. If you were that mad at him, you wouldn’t leave him a note, not this note anyway. So, Jason folds it into a small square and puts it into the pocket of his sweatpants before he wills himself to get up.

Jason makes his way down the large staircase as his head feels like it’s wobbling. He knows withdrawal is tortuous. He knows that but he really didn’t expect it to feel like this. As much as he tries to not think about it, the only thing he wants is the drug. It’s the only thought that’s coming through clear as day, taunting about how much better he’ll feel if he just takes it. His head won’t feel like it’s exploding and he won’t want to peal his skin off of his bones. The cramps will vanish and he won’t feel the shaking in his hands anymore, just like old times. The back cramp will go away and his leg won’t be in pain. Jason knows it’s a bad idea, based on last night, but it’s growing more and more tempting with every step he takes down the stairs.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

Jason jumps as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, eyes shooting up to the bench in front of the end of the staircase. You're lying there, your phone above your face and your knees are bent, feet planted on the bench.

You didn’t leave?

“Fuck you.” Jason mutters, brows knitting together as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Why didn’t you leave?

You glance back to him from the corner of your eyes and he does look terrible. The dark circles are back, more prominent than they were the other night. The light in his eyes is gone and he’s really pale. He looks like he might actually be sick and you think his cheeks look a little more hollowed than they did before. His hair doesn’t even have the same volume that it normally does and it breaks your heart.

He’s going through it now and this time there actually might be nothing you can even offer to do to help. At least before, you could just offer to listen and be there for him. That was always something but this is different. He’s just going to have to ride it out and you feel horrible for it.

You grin softly to yourself, typing away at your screen before you sit up, planting your feet on the floor. “It’s true.” You shrug your shoulders. You bend down, sliding a white box out from under the bench before you pick it up. “Got donuts, picked up a few of your favorites.” You hold out the box for Jason but his stomach just twists at the thought of food.

“Not hungry.” He nearly grimaces as he looks to his own shoes.

You nod, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, it’s called withdrawal. You should eat anyway. You need some sugar, hence donut. Plus, dough is filling. It might help.” You extend your arms further. “Eat.”

Jason hesitates, looking to the right before he hangs his head, letting out a sigh and then walks over to you. You're one of the most persistent and persuasive people Jason has ever met and he is under no condition or mood to try and even argue with that. You’ll win anyway. You always win in some way. He sits beside you while you open the box, giving him one of the four donuts that are left. Jason raises a brow, wondering if you've eaten.

“Here.” You grab a bottle of water from the side of the bench and hand that to him. “You also need some water.”

Jason takes it from you slowly as he grows more and more confused. What the ever-living-fuck happened last night that he does not remember? The last thing he knew, you two were not speaking. You might have rescued him but this is weird, even for you. You're sturdy in your beliefs and sturdy in your own words. You're being awfully nice and it’s freaking Jason out. He’s starting to think he might be running a fever and maybe this is all just a very vivid dream. You have no reason to be this nice to him at the moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You question, your brows furrowing together as Jason just looks at you as if you're some sort of math problem he can’t figure out.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jason finally asks, looking at the donuts and then back to you.

Your heart skips a beat and you knew he’d be confused. That’s a little bit of why you're doing it. A little bit of payback for the hell he’s been putting you through. But, if you wanted to be brutally honest, the guilt of saying you were giving up him is eating at you from the inside out. It is one of the only things you think about because it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean it because Jason thinks you do. Why wouldn’t he? You literally said it out loud. And then he got kidnapped and drugged. You don’t want to abandon him, drug or not. And last night you got to see a part of the old Jason you thought maybe didn’t come back when he came back to life. You thought maybe, the pit kept a part of his soul. But, last night, he was him. Drugged and high, but him. The Jason you know and love. So, you're here, being nice and making sure he’s eating and getting water because he should have someone in his corner anyway.

Last night, Dick said you and Gar did a good job and you suddenly understood Jason’s entire motive. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders by Bruce and made worse by being a replacement to Dick. That wasn’t Dick’s fault, but he could have done more. And it was never about having someone to help him lift the weight, it was always about Jason needing to find his own footing outside of the approval of who he looked up to most. That’s just…a lot easier said than done. He needed the one person who gave him everything, not to abandon him but he did anyway. You understand his motive and you're thinking, abandonment is the worst possible option for him. It always was. And you should have known, because it was always the worst option for you, too.

You offer a cheeky smile, faking it entirely. “Is it freaking you out?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Jason snips.

He’s thinking he’s either running a fever, he’s hallucinating, he died again, or he’s in some type of coma thanks to the drug Crane gave him. This whole thing just feels weird and the you he knows would be telling him off and calling him a shithead for getting himself into this mess and then immediately saying it wasn’t actually his fault. Jason knows it is. But, you always tell him it’s not. This time though, you're just offering him food as if nothing happened the last few days. He would love if you two could just move on as if nothing happened, but the reality is that it did happen. Last night and the night before happened. You aren’t nearly as forgiving as he is.

You let out a laugh, leaning your head back. “Good.”

You do not want him to know how worried you are about him or about your own guilt. He’s already going to have a rough few days getting the drug out of his system and you don’t want to make it any worse. At this point, the only thing you want is for things to go back to some type of normal. You know you have to talk and sort it out but you want to feel normal, without all the weight, for just a few minutes even. You want a break from everything. And Jason was always your safe haven when things got too heavy and too loud. He was always good at carrying the weight that didn’t belong to him and blocking out the noise.

Jason's face drops but a smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Are you fucking with me?”

You snicker softly. “I mean, you do need food and water, but yeah.” You nod your head. “I’m always fucking with you.” You say softly as you roll your shoulders.

Jason’s entire chest starts to swarm with a vibrating warmth. “Fuck you.” Jason quips, a gentle smile on his lips before he picks up a donut, eyeing it softly. The last thing he wants right now is food.

“Just eat it, Jay. It’ll help.” You say softly, seeing the hesitation on his face.

Jason shakes his head and he needs to do anything else and not eat, or at least try to distract himself to eat. He can’t concentrate on much but he’s curious enough as to why you're still here. You're fucking with him as usual, but he does not deserve your kindness or you trying to take care of him. He should be doing it on his own, after everything he did. To all of you. This isn’t right. Yet, you're still somehow here.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Jason asks.

“No.” You answer simply, swinging your feet slightly. “Gar came to bring me clothes so we went to get some food down the street real quick and got extra for you. Came right back though just in case you woke up.” You explain, looking back to him with a soft smile.

You didn’t want to go far. You didn’t want Jason to think you would just up and leave again. It has to be different this time. Jason was an apologizing mess last night and being held captive is traumatic. You were never going to leave without making sure he was okay and seeing if he did want to have that conversation for real. It might be heavy but maybe it’ll make things kind of, sort of, normal again. But, Gar insisted on breakfast and you weren’t going to disappoint him again.

“Why the fuck did you come anyway?” Jason asks before he finally gets the courage to take a bite of the donut. “You said not to contact you and shit.”

He doesn’t say it out of spite this time. He says it because it’s true and as mad and as hurt as he was, he also gets it. Now that he’s sober, he doesn’t even blame you. He thinks you should have done that from the start, even if it’s killing him on the inside. The last good thing about him was you and he destroyed every part of that. You don’t deserve that but you're here anyway. Offering him food and acting normal. One of the things he always really liked about you is that he could never really figure you out.

You turn your full attention to him, your heart sinking with any hope of having that conversation today. If he doesn’t remember anything, he doesn’t remember what you said or you seeing his scars or helping him or him asking you to stay. It’s not that you want him to remember any of it. In your opinion, he’s lucky not to remember most of it. Maybe he won’t see it that way, but you do. Even if it doesn’t quite work out for you.

“You don’t remember much of last night, do you?” You ask and Jason shakes his head shamefully. “I’ll always come find you.” You say casually but your voice is just above a whisper. “You’d do it for me.” You shrug easily and your words make Jason look to your neck where he can see the silver peaking out from under your hoodie. “You, uh, you said to bring you here so I did. You asked me to stay so I did. You, uh, you….you were apologizing a lot so I said we could talk later if you still wanted to.” You tug your sleeves over your hands.

Jason nods his head, slowly making his way through his food with a few sips of water. That explains a lot actually. He isn’t sure exactly what he was like last night, but he’s imagining it wasn’t too pretty if he had to ask you to stay. And maybe having a conversation is why you stayed, a sense of hope, maybe. If you're willing, he’d love to talk about it for once but his head also hurts and his spine feels like it wants to crack out of his back. The withdrawal is making it hard enough to even have this conversation with you. He thinks if you’ll talk, it should be when he can actually participate properly. You deserve that much.

“Thanks for staying.” Jason says quietly. “Don’t fucking deserve.” Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head.

You furrow your brows as you turn to face him, pulling your knee on the bench so the bottom of your shoe rests against your other leg off the bench. “You know, you should know by now that I think you deserve the world, Jay.”

“Why?” Jason huffs and a part of him is getting pissed that you even think that. Do you not understand the gravity of the things he’s done? “Look at what I’ve become!”

“It’s not really you.” You say softly. “And I know you know that.” You nod your head quickly. “But you never thought you deserved better. I know shit gets bad for you and always has been. But, that shit never mattered to me. You did.” You say and Jason thinks he just swallowed his own heart. Did? “Do.” You state firmly. “You do. Anti-fear drug you isn’t the real you.”

Maybe the anti-fear drug version of him isn't really him but Robin wasn't either. Living in a fancy mansion with money and everything he could have wanted. Following directly behind Bruce and Dick, trying to fill their shoes when their viewpoints are so wildly different. Bruce can try all he wants but Batman was born from vengeance. He got to go home to a cave underneath his fancy mansion with all of his tech Jason couldn't even dream of touching before. Bruce was raised by a fucking butler that was still on Bruce's payroll. Batman was born because Bruce's rich parents were killed in cold blood. And Bruce had all of the means to make Batman happen. That's great, Jason fully believes that's great, but it's different.

Bruce didn't see the dealers or sex workers or the pimps or addicts or traffickers in the flesh. Bruce didn't see that some of those people "breaking the law" were just doing what they had to do to survive because the system was never meant to help them. Jason might have some resentment towards his dad for everything, but he also knows his dad was trying because job after job didn't work out like it should have. He was down and out, but he tried. He was an asshole and he was abusive, but maybe some of how he ended up like that was circumstances. It doesn't make it right, but maybe that's part of it. Jason understands his dad was trying to provide in some way and it turned him into an abusive prick and then it got him killed.

Jason knows his mom's addiction didn't help and it didn't make her the best mom. But, he also knows that that was her way of trying to provide because she used to use to function and the addiction set in. She took them to survive in her own way. His uncle drank to survive. That's how it is sometimes. And that's what he saw, everyday, and not just from his own family. It's what he knew and he also grew up knowing, no one is going to help them. Not even Batman. They are on their own.

Jason grew up knowing sometimes people do "bad" things in order to survive and provide, but Bruce never saw that first hand so his morals on Batman are entirely skewed and bias for the sake of upholding the law and putting "bad people" away. But, Jason's views were always landing in a grey area that not all "bad people" are actually bad and deserve to be thrown away. Robin gave him magic but he also had to give up some of his own morals and beliefs in order to wear the cape and mask.

Robin was never really him, either.

“Robin wasn't the real me either.” Jason scoffs.

Your eyes narrow softly at him because it's such an odd comment coming from him. Robin was everything to him before and maybe you do get it. It got him killed, it's different now. There's a lot of bad blood stained over Robin but...you don't entirely think that's true.

“That’s not true. The whole, mansion shit, yeah.” You laugh softly. “But, wanting to be the voice for people who get left behind? Yeah, that’s still you, Jay.” You shrug your shoulders. “You always liked kicking ass, people who deserve it because they did something wrong. Not because you like to fight. I mean, you’re argumentative as fuck, but physically violent, not so much. It’s a misconception that you play into because it’s easier than letting people see the real you or whatever. Robin let you be this hero and you had to roll with Batman and shit, but…you got to help people.” You shake your head. “Like me.” You clear your throat. "That's you." You offer a soft nod at him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

As far as Jason can see, he's never really helped you. Not really. He thinks he's only made everything worse. Between getting kidnapped and making you lose sleep and dying and now everything else. He's pretty sure you were always better off without him. How the hell do you think he actually helped you?

“How the fuck do you figure I helped you?” Jason shakes his head and he definitely is not well enough to be having this conversation.

You think of every way Jason has saved your life, some of the times a little too dark to share with him at the moment. But, you think about them and you think about all the other times where he's helped you, even with small stuff like getting something down from a cabinet. You've never told him but you think one of the reasons you are who you are today is because of him.

You pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. "I felt like maybe the stuff with Jerry was my fault. Spent a lot of time thinking that but...one of the first things you told me was that he was a piece of shit and I didn't deserve it. You didn't even know me. But, it helped and you never made me feel like what happened to me was ever my fault. And uh, you trained me so I wouldn't be scared to leave the tower. Maybe the knives is a thing...or maybe it's because you trained me. Sparred with Gar the other day, I still won. Because you trained me." You suck in a shaky breath, pausing softly. "Um...and I just...I'm alive today because of you." You nod at him once, seeing Jason's face wanting to twist to question it. "So, maybe Robin wasn’t completely the real you, but Robin was enough of the real you. You put yourself into Robin. And you can put yourself into Red Hood. Without Bruce. Without Batman.�� You rush your words, making sure Jason can't get a word in. “So, I guess, I’m just saying that you always deserve better, even if you don’t believe me. And I just hope you understand that one day, Jay.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me any of that before?" Jason asks, turning to match your position as his right shin touches yours.

Truthfully, it all seemed too honest. A little too scary to tell him what kind of impact he had on you. It’s more than that, there’s more you haven’t told him as a way to protect yourself and maybe even him. You always felt if you told him those things, maybe it’d change. Maybe it would change how he viewed you and maybe it would change how you felt he viewed you. Maybe he’d feel some sort of obligation and you hate when people feel obligated to you for something. You should know Jason never does something for someone strictly out of obligation, but you feared it anyway. And if you told him, what happens when he doesn’t come home?

Saying everything out loud makes it real. And he didn’t come home anyway.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know.” You keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing if you think too much about everything, the tears will start again. “Uh…I’ll always stay if you ask me to.” You nod your head softly.

Jason watches you carefully and he could always tell when there was more on your mind but it looks like it is physically paining you to even talk about it. The guilt starts to take over and Jason wants you to not be in pain anymore. He'll take it if that's what he has to do, he doesn't care anymore.

“You really shouldn’t.” Jason nearly mutters the words.

You know him better than anyone and that was always what he feared. You know him better than anyone which means he’s more susceptible to getting hurt. He’s already hurt himself enough for the both of you but then everything with Excellent Gotham happened and now you're the one torn between him and everyone else. He’s hurt because you're hurt and that’s all this is turning into.

Maybe a small part of him regrets the two of you, as thankful as he is you're here. As much as he appreciates your company and your kindness, he has crossed the line and maybe had you never gotten together, you wouldn’t be the one in pain. Maybe had you not gotten together, this whole thing would be easier for him. He wouldn’t feel like he let another person down and pushed them to their very brink of existence. He wouldn’t feel like he exposed himself too much to the elements. He’d still feel safe in his bubble of self-destruction and self-hatred. It wouldn’t hurt you.

You're too good anyway.

So, he pushes out of some painful mix of self-preservation and self-destruction.

“You know, uh, I think about that…night with Deathstroke.” You swallow thickly. “Not…not the kidnapping so much anymore but…after.” You stress, looking to your leg and picking at the hem of your pants. “In the bathroom and I don’t know. You pushed and gave me every reason to, uh, to run like I usually do and I know…we did do what we do best in the end but…not…ya know?” You shake your head, looking back at him. “You pushed and I stood there anyway and told you that you matter to me. And it was like…the first time I ever felt like I could stay…if you’d have me.”

Jason’s heart starts to ache from inside of his chest like he’s just been stabbed. Did he make you feel unwanted? That was never it. He was just scared and pushing always seemed easier and you never put up a fight about it. He thought you were on the same page of pushing and running. You both did it until you couldn’t. The risk of everything you both ever feared didn’t seem to matter anymore so you both decided to stay and Jason can’t decide if that was for better or worse. But, he’s looking at the distant look in your eyes and he’s thinking maybe it was for the worse for you. You always made him better.

“Even as a friend. Like I said, I agreed with you and we did what we do best.” You shake your head. “And you did.” You nod your head. “You showed up to my room the next night and I just…” You suck in a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling and back to him. “I knew I could stay. I didn’t have to run from you.” You tug your sleeves over your hands. “So, um…I know you want to,” You nod your head with understanding but your heart is breaking with every second that passes. “But, can…can you please not push me away this time? Please, Jay.” You offer him a sad and weak smile as the lump in your throat starts to grow. “I know things are complicated right now but you’re my best friend and I really miss you.” Your voice cracks as water starts to brim your eyes.

Even after everything, you have a way of getting him to cave. Pushing has always been his best defense mechanism. It has always worked and it has always been easy. It has always hurt him, which was fine because at least it was self-inflicted. But, you make the whole thing hard because it doesn’t just hurt him. It hurts you, too. And Jason knows how badly it hurt when you left. Maybe part of making amends is letting go of bad coping mechanisms. Maybe it’s doing things that hurt and are scary. He does love you and he does miss you, too. He’s tired of being alone and he’s tired of being in pain. And he's tired of putting you through pain. So, he nods.

“I miss you, too." Jason's voice is rough and low but honest and sincere, earning him an almost relieved sigh from you. "I just fucked everything up this time.” Jason says quietly. “Really fucked it up.” Jason nods. “With you and the Titans. How the fuck do I come back from that?”

“You apologize and get clean.” You shrug. “I mean, I’m the only one who really understands it so you just…have to try.”

“That’s it? I try and they welcome me back with open arms?” Jason scoffs at the thought. It’s never that easy. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

"I mean, I'm still welcome to be a Titan and I'm killing people. All of you almost killed Gar." You nod your head quickly. "So, they have to welcome you back because otherwise they're just hypocrites." You offer him a cheeky smile. "You just have to try, Jay. And if that doesn't work, then fuck em." You shrug your shoulders sarcastically. "You still got me and you got Gar." A genuine smile comes to your lips as you rest your hand on top of his.

Jason thinks the simple act alone just lit his entire body on fire so he smiles back, subtle but there. "Yeah, alright." Jason manages a soft chuckle as he shakes his head. “When are you going back?” Jason asks softly, not really wanting you to leave.

“Oh…uh, well, you were just drugged so I thought…I’d hang around if that’s okay.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you pull your hand back into your lap.

Liar.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Jason asks bluntly. “Don’t pull that bullshit about how you’re just worried about me or whatever. Something’s going on.” Jason can always tell when you're lying and he swears part of that is because you almost never do.

You chew the inside of your cheek and he’s right, something in going on. You've been thinking a lot about how you finally understand it. The whole Bruce and Dick thing. You finally get it and you actually hate it. Of course, understanding Jason is always nice but you hate that you feel that way. Every day since you've watched Jason deteriorate over Robin, you swore you would never be like him or Dick and yet here you are. In the same damn position. And you won’t let that happen. And the more you sit and the more you think about it, the more you wonder if the reason you threw in the towel over Jason is because of your obligation to the Titans.

You have a bigger obligation to Jason and yourself but maybe that played a little bit of a hand. Maybe your loyalty runs a little deeper than you thought because Dick saved your life and brought you into this world. But, you don’t want that. Something has to fucking give and you're not sacrificing your views or your morals anymore. Maybe it’ll be for the better and maybe it’ll be for the worse, but at least you know you're doing something you can live with. At least you're doing it because it’s what you believe in.

You're also still a little mad that Dick was willing to sacrifice Jason if last night wasn't a trap and Crane went off the deep end. There is still that.

“I am, uh, mad at Dick. Shocker, I know.” You crunch your nose before rolling your eyes. “But, um…he said we did a good job last night and I just…felt so validated and I hated that. Because it was more than just being validated, it was being validated by him. And he said it could have been a trap and he's right but he didn't fucking stop me from going. It could have been a trap and I could have been killed, blah blah blah, right? Well, he let me fucking go alone. He didn’t pressure Gar for information. So, I just…I don’t wanna go there. It doesn’t even feel like home anymore fucking anyway. So…yeah.” You rush your words, trying to play it off because you don't particularly want to talk about it.

“So…you’re mad at Dick so you’re just...switching sides?” Jason questions, not really sure he understands why you would do that. "And what the hell would you have done if it were a trap? Hate fucking saying it, but he's kind of right." Jason nearly grimaces at the thought of agreeing with Dick, but it could have been a trap for the Titans. You had no way of knowing otherwise.

“Was I ever really not on your side?” You quip. “No, it’s…” You suck in a breath and you shrug your shoulders. “I know that if you stay off of the drug then you’re you again. That’s where I want to stand and I want to be here when you are clean. You’re where I always want to be.” You nearly whisper. "And, if it were a trap, I knew that if I showed up, you'd do everything in your power to get me out of there. It would never be a trap for me, just the Titans. So, I wasn't worried. I know Excellent Gotham was an accident. Shit happens, but I'm almost always safe with you and I know that." You offer a soft but closed smile. "You and me."

Jason pauses and he thinks back to the day he walked onto the roof. He thinks he’s starting to feel that way again. Worthless, useless, damaged, broken, unloved, unworthy, filled of poison. Everything comes back to him. But, he’s sitting next to you and he also remembers you that day.

You were the only one that stood up for him and you were the only one who came out to the roof to try to talk him down. You're always the only one, if he has no one else, he has you. And he remembers you literally telling him that if you're alive, he’ll never have to be alone. You broke up with him and he’s still not alone. Maybe you're crazy for it but Jason knows in order for you to still be with him, in any context, you're having to sacrifice a lot. In order to make sure you keep that promise to him, you're the one sacrificing yourself and your friends. For some reason, you believe in him so maybe it’s time Jason takes a step back and starts sacrificing, too and believing in himself. If you can, he owes it to you to try, too. It’s supposed to be him and you.

"I'm still really sorry for that." Jason lets out a breath. "But, next time, can you bring someone with you in case it is a trap?" Jason lets out a soft laugh. "I'd never let some shit happen to you but, just in case." Jason nods head quickly, the white streak flopping around slightly.

You let out a laugh as you look down and then back to him. "Yeah, okay because you asked so nicely." You say sarcastically.

Jason shakes his head but his chest is starting to feel a little better. “I’m gonna make it up to you, alright?” Jason says sternly. “Don’t know how yet, but I’m going to. I fucking owe you.”

You offer a soft smile. “I expect a lot of homecooked meals and for you to drive me around.” You nod as a cheeky smile starts to come to your face.

Jason lets out a soft laugh, tilting his head down before he looks back you. “I’m not your personal fucking chef or your chauffeur.”

“Could be so fun, Jay.” Your eyes widen as you shake your head teasingly at him. “Um…” Your brows furrow. “Withdrawal sucks and I know you know that. So, um…if you want to go to Crane and try to get one or two inhalers so you can ween yourself off instead of cold turkey, I get it.” You nod your head. “Um…I mean, I can help if you want.”

Jason nearly does a double-take. “This whole time you’ve been telling me to get off of it and now you’re telling me you’ll help me take it?”

“I also don’t want you miserable.” You state. “I can like hide the inhalers for you and monitor when you get more.”

Jason pauses for a second and maybe it’s a bad idea. The drug makes him a skeleton of who he really is but this is torture, just sitting here. He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to deal with feeling like this for days or maybe weeks. He doesn’t know how long this withdrawal is going to last. All he knows is that it is fucking exhausting and painful. But, maybe if you can help, he won’t fall back into Crane’s hands. If you're willing to stay, he can try.

“Yeah, then I'll be fucking done with his psycho ass.” Jason clears his throat. “Feel like fucking shit.” Jason scoffs. “Meet back here then?”

You nod your head softly. “Yeah, I gotta get back and let Gar know what’s going on, I guess deal with Dick. Blah blah blah.” You laugh softly. “Just…text me if something happens.” You get to your feet. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid until I get back.”

“Don’t do anything fucking stupid while you’re gone.” Jason quips. “Ya know, like using the R blades to kill some fuck.”

You gain a cheeky smile. “Hey, you’re still wearing a bat symbol.” You point at him. “I’m just being an asshole, just like you. Learned from the best, bAbE.” You snark right back at him as you watch him gain that half-cocked, toothy smirk that always made you feel alive. “I’ll be back and try not to take it until I get back.” You nod once at him, keeping your own smirk before you turn on your heels and head for the exit.

You head back to the manor, knowing Dick and Kory will want to know where Jason and Crane are. If you were being honest, you're surprised Gar has been able to keep it a secret. You know it’s a very big ask for him not to tell Dick where or the password into the tablet which you had Gar bring you when he came by just to be sure Dick didn’t get into it while Gar was gone. Letting them know where Crane is, is all fine and well, the issue comes to Jason.

While you appreciate that Dick thinks you and Gar did a good job, there is still a bitterness hugging your chest about the whole thing. It shouldn’t have been up to you. You said you were done and you should have been able to be done but not when no one else is going to do something. You know you never would have taken a backseat anyway, not with Jason being kidnapped and held hostage, but it should have been an option. Jason was in trouble and it was Dick’s responsibility to do something about it. You don’t know where Dick’s head is with Jason now so the last thing you want is for him to know where Jason is hiding out and where Crane is. The last thing you want to do is even work side-by-side with him anymore and if you were a worse person, you’d just kill Crane now and get it all over with. Dick could deal with the cleanup if there is any to be had.

You stop right into your room as soon as you get to the manor. If you're going to help Jason and you're going to stand beside him, you want to be physically there. If you're ditching the Titans, then staying here isn’t really an option. So, you pack a bag with clothes and a charger for your phone before stopping by Jason’s room and picking a few of his favorite pieces of clothes and books. Once you have everything you need, you make your way to the Batcave to grab the case for your suit and extra knives and blades.

Dick, Kory, and Gar are all in the Batcave when you make your way down there. They’re surrounded by the Batcomputer, coming as no surprise to you. But, then they all turn around, eyes landing on you and you tug your backpack harder over your shoulder.

“Yes?” You ask softly.

“How is he?” Gar asks, hope in his eyes as he spins in his chair and gets to his feet.

“Going through withdrawal, looks like shit.” You huff before sucking in a breath. “Got him to eat a little bit though.” You offer a soft smile.

“Does that mean he’s done?” Dick questions.

“Done with the drug, Crane, or Red Hood? Because I’m thinking those are three different answers.” You quip, holding a bit of snark in your voice.”

“All three.” Dick’s voice grows defensive and you were fine last night. Suddenly, you hang out with Jason for one night and you have an attitude again? Seriously?

“No, yes, and probably not. Didn’t talk about Red Hood.”

“Wait, he’s gonna keep taking it?!” Gar practically yells in confusion.

“No.” You answer simply, shaking your head. “He’s just getting a few more inhalers so he can ween off it instead of cold turkey. Withdrawal is bad enough.” You look to Dick who looks like he’s about to have a stroke. “It was my idea if that helps.”

“What?!” Kory and Gar yell at the same time.

“Why would you encourage him to keep taking it?” Dick grabs the bridge of his nose and he's thinking you should have come with migraine medication when he found you in the alley.

“Because quitting some drugs cold turkey can kill you and I don’t know if Crane’s drug falls into that category or not and neither does he. I’d rather we not find out the hard way.” You answer simply, rolling your shoulders.

Gar finally notices the backpack and his heart starts to sink. He’s really hoping you're just bringing Jason some of his stuff and you're not leaving. They’ve already lost so many people, he doesn’t want someone else walking out on them. He knows it has to be really hard for you, but it’s hard for everyone.

“Why do you have a backpack?” Gar asks cautiously.

You tug it over your shoulder a bit more. “Um…I’m gonna stay with Jason for a bit.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “I promise, I was not leaving without telling you. I’m just trying to make sure he’s gonna be alright.” You roll your shoulders and a part of you almost offers to let him come with.

It could be just the three of you again but you would never put Gar in a position where he feels like he has to choose between you and Jason and the Titans. Inviting him, feels like it would put him in that position. And you have no idea what Jason would think of it anyway so you bite it back.

“Are you sure?” Gar asks.

You nod your head softly and you don’t want Gar in the middle of your annoyance with Dick. You know you’ll get over it eventually anyway. “Yeah, maybe I can get something out of him anyway, about if Crane is planning something big and if so, what.” You play it off, realizing this does give you that opportunity.

Dick nods once. “You could just tell us where he’s hiding out and where Crane is.” Dick states simply.

“No.” You shake your head as you start walking over towards the display case where your suit is still in the suitcase beside it.

Dick turns to face you, annoyance written on his face.”Excuse me?”

“I said no.” You say simply. “If you want to argue about it, argue with yourself cause I'm not anymore.” You shrug your shoulders.

Dick sucks in a breath and he can’t believe you’re really doing this again. “Fine, can we speak privately?” Dick asks.

“Come on, Gar.” Kory walks up to Gar, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go find Conner and Blackfire.” Kory offers a soft smile before they walk off.

You grab the suitcase, walking back towards Dick and then past him. You're ready to get out of here and you know this is going to cause more problems than it’s maybe worth. But, at the end of the day, you swore you’d protect Jason at all costs. Too many people left him exposed to the elements, and you're not going to do that. Dick had his chance to help, too and he left the both of you in the pouring rain and wonders why you’re feeling abandoned.

“I thought you were on our side.” Dick shakes his head. “What’s going on? Did something happen?” Dick asks, this time his voice sounding a little bit more concerned and you almost feel guilty.

“Dude, come on.” You scoff. “I’m on whatever side gets Jason home and safe. You should know that. Nothing happened I just….” You shake your head. “You could have fucking helped last night and you didn’t. For all we knew, Crane could have lost his shit and was gonna kill him.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Dick states. “You said last night he was just tied to a chair and you got him out of there. You and Gar worked together and you both did a good job last night. You didn’t need help.”

“It’s not about if I needed it!” You yell in desperation. “I fucking found his body! Do you really think I’m just fucking fine with that now that he’s alive? Do you really think I want to find him like that again? On my fucking own? That’s what you set me up to do last night. Yeah, he was 'just' tied to a chair, but I also know that fucks with your head, too. He’s your brother who needs fucking help but the only people who are willing at all costs are Gar and me. So, no.” You shake your head. “I’m not gonna tell you until I know he’s safe. You can figure it out and I’ll talk to him anyway. But, I’m not telling you.” You look to the right and then back to Dick. "Did you ever think that he just needs you to show up for him and not out of obligation? Bruce isn't here and this wasn't your fault like Deathstroke. Jason Todd is not hard to figure out."

Dick hangs his head for a second, realizing maybe you make a good point. You shouldn't have had to be the one to go alone. But, Dick didn't even think of the possibility that Jason could have been in real danger. He didn't think of what would happen if he was and you were the one to find him again. Dick's realizing maybe, just maybe, Crane might have had a point a few days ago. Maybe he did abandon Jason.

“I’m sorry.” Dick admits, catching you off-guard. “You’re right. It shouldn’t have been up to and I didn’t think about that.” Dick looks to the ground and back to you. “We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately and we’ve all been through a lot. This is hard for you. We all just want this to be over. I should have gone with you.”

"Thank...you?" You question, a little confused where this version of Dick is coming from. "Look, I think any risk is worth saving him. Last night, though, you made me think that isn't the case for you. So, I can't tell you in order to protect him. But, I'll try to get information about Crane anyway and tell you." You nod your head, swallowing your own pride. "I still want Crane dead and you want him brought in, so we're on the same side there." You start to walk towards the stairs. "Anything else or...can I go?" You ask, feeling, for some reason, obligated to.

"You can go." Dick lets out a sigh. "At least keep up with Gar, he's worried about the two of you." Dick warns, having to suck up his pride, too and put some trust into you this time. You offer him a closed-mouth smile before giving him a thumbs up and heading back upstairs.

Jason is making his way to the pump station where Crane is setting up for their next steps and his teeth grind while his heart races. He swears he has to be running a fever with his head feeling warm, heavy, and cloudy. He isn’t sweating but something about his skin feels like it’s almost been dunked into a pit of oil and it makes his skin crawl. There’s an ache in his back that isn’t painful but isn’t uncomfortable like it’s on the verge of a paralyzing cramp that just won’t come. His hands are starting to shake and the only thing he wants is the damn drug.

There’s a bit of worry in thinking about the drug though. He can’t be who he has been over the last week. He cannot go back to that but he is desperate and scared. Everything is in agony and the guilt is starting to weigh his feet down. The regret feels like cinderblocks resting on his heart. He’s scared he won’t be able to stop and he’s scared if he goes right back to the drug, Crane will get him right back under his wing. He finds himself thinking maybe that’s why you offered to help anyway. So, Crane couldn’t manipulate him anymore. If the only person he’s talking to is you while he’s high, then he doesn’t have too much to worry about. You're not going to manipulate him into killing innocent people. That’s all Crane. So, he sucks up his fear and walks right in, ready to nearly demand the drug from Crane.

Crane has a jackhammer in hand, trying to get through the concrete on the floor. Jason watches him with more aggravation starting to flood into his system. Jason walked in with a mission, sights set on getting one or two inhalers and that’s it. But, he’s standing here and all he wants to do is scream. The anger side of withdrawal is peaking through and he’s thinking he’s going to finally snap if Crane doesn’t hand over an inhaler. The jackhammer is making the headache worse and the shaking starts to intensify. He doesn’t really care about anything else as desperation starts to take over.

“I need more!” Jason yells over the sound of the jackhammer. He thinks his head might explode if Crane doesn’t knock it off.

Crane stops and rests the jackhammer on the ground before looking up to Jason. He gains a delighted smile as he walks closer to Jason, stretching his arms out to his sides.

“You’re back.” Crane says before gesturing his arms inward. “Come on, bring it in.”

The last thing Jason wants to do is hug him. This insane psychopath kidnapped him, drugged, and held him hostage. Jason’s ex-girlfriend had to rescue him. And Crane thinks Jason wants to not only be around him but hug him? He’s lost his fucking mind.

“I need another inhaler, Crane.” Jason demands, keeping his footing a few feet away from Crane.

“Well,” Crane starts as he plops his arms back to his sides. “You’re gonna have to cook it yourself. I’m fresh out.” Crane states as he goes to turn around.

Jason's heart plummets and he’s desperate for more. Crane just can’t be out. He’s the one that’s been having cooks make it. How the fuck is he out? He can’t just be out. So, Jason starts walking closer, spotting a large drum barrel.

“What about that?” Jason points to it.

“That…is too concentrated.” Crane states. “Deadly in its uncut form.”

Jason can feel himself growing more and more aggravated and panicked. It’s more than just the fear creeping in but instead, it’s the fear of withdrawal and the idea of never having the drug again. That’s what he’s starting to panic about. He knows he’s getting off of it. He has to if he wants to get some part of his life back. Crane isn’t stable and while he’s helped him this far, last night happened. Jason needs to get off the drug but he really doesn’t want to do it cold turkey. This is literal hell right now.

“This is a fuck show.” Jason lets out an annoyed sigh as he starts walking closer to Crane to pass by him and leave.

“Jay.” Crane states but it’s more in a warning tone. Jason wants to combust, the nickname sending the anger from the withdrawal into a spin. No one calls him that. “Jaydog.” Crane lifts his voice this time as Jason turns around to face him. “Take heart, my friend. We are just a few swift strokes away from the sweetest comeback the world has ever seen.” Crane leans over on the jackhammer, a menacing look in his eye. “I mean, they’re gonna make a biopic about us. How we met, our ups, our downs…”

“How the Titans wiped us out?” Jason cuts him off knowing the Titans are coming after them and Crane doesn’t seem to be much help.

You can say whatever you want but right now, he’s still being targeted by the Titans because he’s spent the last week targeting them. Jason doesn’t think for a second he can come back from that. That’s why you're suddenly with him through this. A barrier against the Titans.

“Do you remember why we’re here?” Crane asks.

“The details are hazy, Crane. You zombified me, remember that?” Jason quips back and that part is biting at the back of his head.

Crane didn’t have to do it but he did it anyway. He drugged him, held him hostage, then kidnapped him and brought him here. He didn’t even offer a good explanation. But, Jason falls back on him stealing the inhalers from Crane and maybe he deserved some part of it.

“I do remember.” Crane states simply as he furrows his brows. “Well, um, quick refresher course. So, this pump station is perched directly above Courtland Valve station, which controls all of the water supply for all of Gotham. I take my little friends there and I dump it into the water supply and…” Crane states as he fires up the jackhammer again but as he does, he loses control and it goes sputtering to the floor.

Jason bursts out laughing, enjoying the look of shock on Crane’s face but his laughter starts to die down when Crane also starts laughing. Something about the look he gives Jason and the way he laughs, it almost reminds of him Dr. Light when Jason had him pinned. When Deathstroke held a sword to your face. And suddenly, he’s worried again.

“You think that’s funny?” Crane asks through his laughter. “Just wait until you see what we’re gonna do to Gotham when we’re done here.” Crane says as he circles around Jason, standing behind him and wrapping an arm around his neck as he chuckles. “Gotham is going to destroy itself.” Crane boasts as he walks back over to his place by the jackhammer. “House by house, family by family.” Crane laughs and Jason doesn’t want that.

It was never supposed to be about destroying Gotham. It was about protecting Gotham. Doing the things Bruce would never do and couldn’t do and refused to do. It was about actually taking care of the people in the city who aren’t on Bruce’s radar, the people who get left behind by the GCPD. It was supposed to be about them, not this. This isn’t what Jason wanted to do.

“This plan is a fucking joke, Crane.” Jason states. “And so are you.”

“Me?” Crane questions and Jason thinks he might sound a little hurt. “But I reached over to the other side, dragged you back to the living…” Crane states and you were the one who said Crane was using him. Maybe you're right.

Up until this moment, Jason thought that couldn’t be true. Why would Crane use him? Crane’s been telling him this whole time he cares about him and he wants to help him in the way Bruce and Dick refused to help and couldn’t help. They could be a team, better than Batman. But, if Crane wasn’t really using him, why would he bring up bringing him back from the dead? Which Jason never fucking asked for anyway.

“So you could use me.” Jason states a sort of venom in his voice.

“Yes, so I could use you.” Crane answers nonchalantly as if Jason should have known the answer.

And Jason’s heart sinks further. It was never about helping him. It was about helping Crane help himself. You were the one who was right this time. Crane has been using him this whole time. Jason’s been a pawn in his game and it stings. It’s the same story over and over. Jason gives him all to someone and something and it all ends up backfiring, they use him and throw him away like he’s trash. Just like this.

“Life is transactional, my dear boy.” Crane states. “Well, I gave you life. You gave me secrets about Batman and Dick Grayson and the girlfriend, er, ex-girlfriend? And uh, what was his name? Hank?”

Jason has had it. Today is not the day to mess with him and Crane bringing up him betraying everyone for him is setting him off. It never should have had to be transactional. Yes, Jason should have known better. He knew the exchange was secrets for the formula. It was the drug and then they’d work together. Jason knew that part of it but he didn’t think his life was a part of that transaction. He doesn’t want his damn life to be transactional. He doesn’t want to sell himself for a drug and secrets and the destruction of Gotham and the Titans. That’s not who he is and that’s not who he wants to be. On top of that, Jason’s sick and tired of Crane thinking he can just bring up his one line and get off. You were always supposed to be off limits anyway and everything is sending Jason right over the edge.

Jason grabs Crane by the collar and spins them around, slamming Crane’s back against a few boxes as he holds him there. He’s done working with Crane and letting Crane think he’s the one running the show. Jason is not going to be his pawn anymore. If he wants to take down Gotham, that’s on him. Not Jason.

“I’m done telling secrets!” Jason yells, jaw clenched and knuckles turning white. “Done being fucking used!” Jason yells as he punches Crane in the face twice and then lets him go.

Crane looks up at him, something menacing and bored in his eyes. “You done?” He asks as he spits blood onto the ground.

“Almost.” Jason states plainly. “Bring her up again and I’ll fucking kill you.” Jason says harshly, his jaw squaring and a burning hatred washing over his usually bright eyes. Crane opens his mouth to say something but Jason moves forward and uses most of his strength to take another hit to Crane’s face, this time the hit is enough to knock him unconscious. “Now, I’m done.” Jason says as he leaves Crane on the ground and heads out, desperate to find something that’s going to take the edge off of everything that’s clouding him right now.

He’s supposed to meet back up with you, but at this point, he’s not sure he can stomach it. In the moment, it seemed fine. It was nice not to be alone and to not feel so alone. But, right now, it’s as if he swears it’s the only thing he really deserves with the withdrawal kicking in full force. You will try to make it all better and he knows for a fact he doesn’t deserve for it to be better again. He needs to figure out what he’s going to do and how. How he’s going to come back from everything. You just said he had to try but he doesn’t know how to try. What he’s become goes against everything that’s been engrained into him over the last few years.

Bruce swore killing was wrong and using excessive force was wrong. But, now Jason is the one with guns killing people and decapitating them just for extra threatening measure. Maybe he didn’t always agree with Bruce’s point of view but that’s what a hero, a vigilante, Robin was supposed to do. Not kill. Not use excessive force. There was one way and one way only. Jason was murdered anyway and he thinks maybe, this isn’t all wrong because it is for the greater good of Gotham. But, it haunts him anyway because of how he got here, what led him here. He was murdered and Bruce couldn’t kill the Joker for him and his death was preventable. His death was preventable in every way but he died anyway. He’s the one left with those physical and mental scars, not Bruce.

Jason thinks it’s different when death happens to you. But, Jason didn’t go after Two-Face. He didn’t go after Mr. Freeze or Penguin or Bane or the Riddler. Jason went after the drug side because of Crane. Maybe he would have done it anyway, but it was because of Crane so Crane could run his own drugs without them getting in the way. It wasn’t about protecting people. It was about distribution. So, he thinks about his younger self. The younger self that took care of his mom and didn’t entirely hate his dad for everything. And he wonders how much his younger self would hate who he’s become.

His younger self would hate the killing and the drugs and the betrayal. He’d hate turning from a hero to a villain and he’d hate how he went and fucked up such a good thing with so many people. Sure, the Titans weren’t always nice or understanding, but they had smoothed things out. And things did feel okay with them. And he was safe and warm and healthy and he had someone, he had people, who cared about him and tried their best to take care of him, something his younger self would have loved to have even if he never admitted it. Jason could have had it all but it just wasn’t enough. He was selfish and entitled and impatient, just like Dick and Bruce said. He was hard-headed and stubborn. It got him killed and it got him put in this position and he thinks his younger self might think he were better off staying dead.

Maybe he would be.

So, he digs out of his phone and sends a quick text to you. And then he waits.

An hour later, Jason sees you walking towards him as snow starts to fall from the gloomy sky. He swallows the lump in his throat as you get closer. You offer him a soft smile, hands dug deep into your pocket once you close the distance between you.

“You know it’s freezing, right?” You quip, seeing your breath in the space between you.

He didn't say much in the text. It was just that he didn't want to sit around the hideout and he needed to be out. He followed that text asking if you'd want to walk with him for a while.

“Yeah, and I’m still fucking sweating.” Jason rolls his shoulders, shaking his head.

“Ew.” You laugh softly. Jason’s eyes narrow at you as you shrug, a gentle smile on your lips. “Thanks for texting me.” You nod your head once.

If you were being honest, you're surprised he did. A very large part of you expected him to not come back to his hideout and avoid you. You really would understand if he did at this point. It has to be really difficult for him, especially coming down from both the anti-fear drug and whatever Crane gave him last night. But, you're really glad he texted anyway.

Jason lets out a breath, a cloud leaving his lips from the cold air. “Thanks for coming.” Jason nods.

“What’d Crane say?” You ask hesitantly, seeing the brown paper bag in his right hand.

“That he’s fresh out.” Jason scoffs. “Load of shit, obviously.”

“What a piece of shit.” You scoff right back. “He fucking sucks.” You roll your eyes, split between worried something bad is going to come from cold turkey withdrawal and relieved the risk of him falling back into Crane's hands is gone.

“Yeah.” Jason nods his head in agreement before the two of you start walking with no destination in mind.

“He say anything else?” You ask.

Jason bites back the pain in his chest and the burning of his eyes with your words. It’s a harsh reminder that he was never brought back because he was wanted. He wasn’t brought back because he was loved and cared about. He was brought back to be used and it was all always conditional. There were conditions to his life. His own breath was traded for secrets and death and betrayal. How can he live knowing his life is now tainted with innocent blood?

“Yeah.” Jason gets a distant look in his eyes as he brings the covered bottle to his lips and takes a drink.

“Which was…?” You ask softly, almost afraid of what Crane could have said.

“That he was using me the whole time.” Jason spits the words out and you swear you can see his eyes start to water against the city streetlights. “You were right.”

“For the record, I really wish I weren’t.” You scoff. “What? He just he was using you…just like that?” You question and you know Crane is a prick and he uses people. But, Jason really believed in him and that's the part that hurts.

“Pretty much.” Jason shakes his head, sucking in a deep breath as if the cold air biting his vocal cords will make it easier to talk. “Bringing me back was transactional.” Jason’s voice goes quiet and you think you heard his heart break.

You knew before, but this is further confirmation that Jonathan Crane is a monster. You're looking at Jason Todd who always just wanted to be enough and just wanted to be loved and Crane weaponized that just like Bruce. But worse. You knew Crane didn’t bring Jason back from the dead out of the kindness of his own heart but you're furious and devastated to be right. You're pissed that he would even tell Jason that.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You mutter, looking forward which earns you an immediate glance from Jason.

“Why? He didn’t do anything.” Jason nearly mocks the very idea.

“Because he just told you that the reason you’re alive is because he needed something from you.” You bite back, a venom and fury in your voice as you look at Jason. “That’s fucked up. I don’t care if it’s true. You don’t tell someone that. And I wanna kill him anyway for everything he’s done to you. But, that’s a good enough reason to me.” The anger in your voice actually surprises Jason. Of course, he's hurt by the ordeal, but he's watching you grow more and more angry over it. He's never had someone be like over something someone else did to him.

“I don’t know why it even fucking matters anymore. I did all of this shit for him.” Jason huffs taking another drink. “How it always is anyway, right?” Jason lets out a hollowed chuckle. “Like I told you, people always want something in exchange for something else.” Jason mutters and he thinks Crane has a point. Life is transactional, he just wishes his literal life wasn’t.

You stop walking, Jason walking a few feet in front of you. You hadn’t thought about that conversation in months. It was the first time you ever promised him something. You promised you’d never make a promise to him you couldn’t keep and you’d never make one just to get something from him. Then he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about the boot print bruise on your back. Things did not seem so simple then, but they sure as shit do now. And your heart starts to break even more, realizing that he really, truly trusted Crane. You have no idea why but he did. That’s not for you to judge but he trusted him and Crane only brought him back because he needed something from him. He is just another person that has made Jason Todd feel like there is some sort of condition to his love. And that’s just not fair.

“What?” Jason asks, turning around to look at you.

“You know I love you still, right?” You ask quietly.

Jason shakes his head in confusion, eyes darting up the sky and then back to you. He isn’t sure exactly how to respond to the question. You told him you do. That’s not the same as him believing you though. It’s hard for him to feel like anyone actually loves him right about now. He doesn’t even like himself right now. And with everything Crane just said to him, he’s thinking that maybe you're just saying it so Jason doesn’t walk onto a roof.

“Jay?” You ask quietly. “You know that, right?” Your eyes scan over his face but you don’t see any sign of him acknowledging the question. “Okay, well, I still love you.” You nod your head with confidence. “And if I would have known how to bring you back, I would have done it. Because I love you and I care about you and you deserve to live.” You close the distance between you. "And...you don't owe me shit for it, either. I don't expect anything from you. It's not conditional or transactional for me, okay?"

The last thing you want is for Jason to feel like he's unloved. It's messy as fuck right now and he has a lot to make up for but he's loved anyway. Crane loves to manipulate people and make them feel like they're alone. You can't imagine what the fuck telling Jason he wasn't even wanted back would do but you have to believe Crane had a fucking purpose. So, it doesn't matter where you and Jason stand or what's left of you. You will stand here in the freezing cold all night with him and tell him you love him. Because on days when you felt unloved and unlovable, you had Jason who always countered those thoughts without ever knowing. So, you will always do the same. He deserves it.

Jason’s breath starts to shake as he looks down at you and his chest hurts. He thinks someone might as well be reaching through his ribs and squeezing his own heart until it explodes. You're the only one that has ever made him feel wanted and loved without conditions.

“After everything?” Jason almost scoffs but he can’t quite bring himself to. You look desperate. “Fucking why?” The question almost comes out as a plea.

“Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” You nod your head once and this is different than the first time you said it.

The first time was on accident and you were very clearly terrified. It was something you never intended to ever tell him but it slipped out in a fit of desperation so he’d stop beating himself up. This time though, it is said with confidence and reassurance as if the words were almost meant to leave your lips for only him. And it starts to defrost Jason’s heart, the pain easing in his chest because he knows you mean it.

Jason rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closing and it’s like it's easier to breathe again. He wants to kiss you again. It’s never easy for him to say what he thinks or what he feels but he’s always been able to show it with you. This time though, that is no longer his place. It doesn’t matter that you love him because you are broken up. He can’t overstep that line even if he wants to. The most he can do is rest his forehead against yours and that’s always been just enough.

A smile pulls at your lips before you wrap your arms around his shoulders, moving your head to rest in the crook of his neck. Jason’s hands come to your hips and suddenly, it’s like the first day of spring. The air isn’t suffocating or painful. It is fresh and clean, smooth and soft. It’s easy to breathe again and the suffocating coldness lifts from your chests. All it is is warm and welcoming. Just like home.

“Thank you for coming.” Jason mutters into your neck.

“You and me.” You mutter right back, Jason’s hands squeezing around you just a little tighter.

You pull away first, a loving smile on your lips and for just a second as you rest your hand on his cheek, you almost forget you ended things. This, right now, feels like it did before he died. And you almost forget and you almost kiss him to make it all not so heavy. But, it’s just a second and then you remember which means that isn’t your place anymore and you don’t know if it ever will be. So, you drop your hand, the smile falling slightly. You look to your left, sucking a breath but then your brows furrow.

“Is that Dick?” You question, bursting the bubble between the two of you.

Jason turns, following your stare. “Fuck.” Jason groans just as Dick seems to spot the two of you, too because he lifts the face shield of his helmet.

“We should get out of here.” You reach down for Jason’s free hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

“Yeah, fuck that.” Jason nods quickly in agreement as the two of you start to walk away but before you could get far, Dick tries to run the red light after you only to get hit by a car going through the green.

You and Jason look between each other before you both let out a breath and start your walk over to Dick to see if he’s okay. You both walk over as Dick rolls over to face you. You roll your eyes and grab your phone from your pocket to call an ambulance while Jason looks down at him. He finds the whole thing a little ironic. Dick is on the ground, clearly out of it and hurt and he could kill him right now. He’s been trying for a week to kill Dick and now is the perfect opportunity but the only reason he’s even thinking about it is because of the irony. He doesn’t even really want Dick dead. Not when he’s clean.

You kneel down, putting a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Ambulance is on the way, I texted Kory and Gar to let them know. You’re an idiot.” You nod at him.

“What…?” Dick asks, looking from you to Jason and then back to you. Dick knows he has a concussion but he’s lost on why Jason is just standing in front of him and why you don’t even seem mildly concerned about what’s going on. What the hell is going on? “Jason?”

You look behind you and Jason’s heart sinks. “Yeah?” You question, looking back to Dick. “You ran into oncoming traffic.” You state sternly as you hear sirens starting to approach. You can see the lights just down the street. “Don’t do anything drastic like die on the way to hospital.” You say softly before you get back to your feet and walk back to Jason. “Let’s go.”

“What? You’re gonna leave him like that?” Jason asks with surprise, that’s unlike you.

“The ambulance is right there.” You point to the flashing lights. “He’ll be fine.” You nod your head once, reaching down for Jason’s hand once more, this time Jason takes it carefully before the two of you head off in the opposite direction.

The two of you get back to Jason's hideout, not having said much to each other on the cold walk over. You both convince yourselves it was all out of self-preservation rather than self-destruction. You follow Jason to the room he led you to last night where he plops down on the mattress still laid out on the floor.

Something about it feels weird because feelings are out in the open unlike before. They were said last time and something came from it but this time, they're words hanging in the air, following them back. Jason doesn't know what to say anymore and you think you've exposed yourself too much again. Nothing can happen between you now, not with everything going on and even if you both want something happen, is that for the best?

It's like something should be happening in the space between you but nothing does because it's all been said and done before. Neither of you quite know where you should stand or where you should lay your hearts to rest. So, it feels weird and it's quiet, both of which are things neither of you like very much between each other.

You shift on your heels, looking around the room. "I, uh, I brought you some more clothes and...stuff." You say softly, nodding towards your backpack near the dresser. You had dropped it off earlier when you were supposed to meet back here.

"Oh, uh, yeah no thank you." Jason nods his head at you and the awkwardness makes him want to chew his own arm off.

"You're welcome." You suck in a breath, looking around the room some more. "Not quite Wayne Manor, huh?" You ask, looking back to Jason.

"It's a roof." Jason shrugs a shoulder casually.

He should have said it back and he knows he should have. But, the words stick to the back of his throat, holding his vocal cords captive. While he gets it, he is still hurt by you leaving him. He knows he deserves it and you had every right to. You should still be gone. He gets it. But, he can still hear the heartbroken laugh you let out echoing in his head and the words that followed and it fucking hurts. He's forgiven you already but...the pain is there anyway. Jason knows he'll get over it but he isn't there yet so the words choke his vocal chords and the air is stiff and awkward between you.

"Yeah." You nod your head before you look back at him. You cannot take this anymore. It has almost never been awkward between you and you can't stand it. The whole thing would be easier if it were easier to just talk about everything. But, that seems too heavy right about now. So, you walk over to your backpack, plucking it from the ground. You walk in front of Jason and crouch down, unzipping your backpack before you pull out a book. "I thought it might help." You hand it over, your hands shaking slightly.

A soft smile starts to pull at Jason's lips as he takes the book from you. "Raided my whole room, huh?"

You grin, mostly to yourself. "Yeah, kind of." You laugh softly. "Brought these, too." You smile widely, pulling out a few more books and handing them over.

Jason looks over his favorite books, you picking up Pride and Prejudice and Frankenstein for him of course, but the pick of The Fellowship of the Ring does not go unnoticed. Jason really likes it, sure, but there are other books he's read more around you. He almost laughs at you grabbing this one. And something about the whole thing, makes him feel loved again.

He looks back to you and your eyes are bright just as they always were around him and your smile is turning into something cheeky, as if you know you've just won something Jason isn't aware of. You say loving him is easy and he always finds it so hard to believe, especially right now. But, he looks over the cover of the books and then back to you, and it really is just that easy to you. And while you may need to talk eventually and this whole thing is fucked up and messy, maybe some sort of feeling of how it used to be, would be nice.

He always felt loving you was the easiest thing he'd ever done, too.

So, he smirks back at you.

"You don't have to try so damn hard." Jason quips. "Fucking try-hard."

Your jaw drops as you let out a laugh. "Fuck you! Look who's talking! You're the biggest fucking try-hard I ever met!"

"Bullshit!" Jason laughs. "You were the one who told me with Deathstroke that I wasn't trying hard enough!" Jason fires right back, hoping he can get you to keep laughing. He's really missed your laugh.

You burst into a fit of laughter, almost forgetting about that comment he made. You told him he was the one that needed to get laid and he told you he'd been trying. The comment was never brought up again. Partially because Jason was dropped fifteen stories and partially because it wasn't worth the risk of bringing up if it was a serious comment or not. But, you find the whole thing funny now.

"Well, it was true!" You bite back. "You were an asshole half the damn time!" You know, asshole or not, all Jason had to do was ask and you would have gotten right into bed with him without a second thought. Not that you will ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that though.

"Playing the long game, babe." Jason defends his stance, a smirk dancing over his face as he gestures his hand out to the side.

"I'd fucking say!" You let out a chortle.

"Worked for a while, didn't it?" Jason says and it almost grows sour on his tongue but that's not how he meant the comment. "I mean, had you practically begging a few times." The smirk switches into something sinister and teasing. The confidence radiates off him just like it always did before and you think you could go back and forth like this all night and maybe it would fix everything.

You feel heat start to rise to your cheeks. "Okay listen."

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter and you think it's still the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "Uh-huh. I'm listening, babe. All fucking ears." Jason nods his head quickly, knitting his brows together but the smirk is practically glued to his face as if he knows he's just won.

"Fuck you." You nod your head quickly, shrugging your shoulders. "I fucking won! Remember that? I do so everything else, bullshit. I won." You cross your arms over your chest.

Jason's smile starts to soft and tender as he nods his head. "Yeah, guess you did." He says softly.

This feels normal. It feels like it did before, just joking. Sure, being together was better because you could joke and know something else was on the other end of it. The joking as friends was always just fun and that's how this feels again. Fun. And warm. It doesn't feel so heavy at the moment and neither of you feel so alone and you can see it in the way he looks back to the books. You can hear it between the lines of his words because Jason Todd doesn't take losing lightly. You don't particularly want this moment to end. Instead, you want to push it a little bit. Letting him know silently that if even a small part of him is willing, maybe there's hope to get back to how you were before.

"Exactly." You match the softness of his voice. "And you know what, I bet I could get you to cave again." You hold your head with confidence.

Jason pauses for a second, narrowing his eyes at you, unsure if this is a trick. "You really sure about that?" Jason challenges, taking the bait as he leans forward towards you slightly. He, for one, is not going to risk this getting heavy again and you always had a habit of backing out when he actually challenged you.

It's not just you who's been craving this. He has, too. Your game always made him feel wanted and loved and cared for, even before he realized it. That's part of what made it fun for him. And maybe it's too soon to jump into it and maybe you have other things you need to sort out first, but that's not a tonight problem. Tonight's problem is finding a way to deal with the withdrawal and self-hatred burying itself into his bones. Tonight is just about existing with each other for the first time since he's been brought back.

You meet Jason right in the middle, closing most of the distance between you. "Positive." You nod just once.

Jason glances to your lips and then back to you. "I'll take that bet."

You shake your head as a soft laugh escapes your lips. "Alright, Jay. Bet's a bet." You roll your eyes, sticking out your hand and Jason shakes it. "I will never let you win because you will be surely insufferable."

Jason lets out a booming laugh. "Absolutely. I'll never let you live it down. Glad you understand that."

"Shut the fuck up." You lean back on your hands as you roll your eyes. You pause, watching him take a drink from the bottle he's been nursing. He doesn't look too uncomfortable now and the awkwardness has evaporated into ease and comfort. "Hey, Jay?" Sam calls softly.

"You told me to shut the fuck up." Jason quips, not missing a single beat.

"Insufferable." You repeat casually as you nod your head quickly.

"What?" Jason asks softly.

"Wanna read to me?" You ask as hesitance starts to take over your voice. Jason's smile turns soft as he looks to the bottle in his hand and then back to you. He knows he will always read to you whenever you ask. "I mean, if you're up for it. I know you said you feel like shit. I can...try to read to you instead, if you want."

Jason almost forgot he felt like shit. You have always known exactly what to do to distract him from everything horrible going on. It makes him feel even worse over the whole ordeal because while a distraction isn't always the best coping mechanism, it would have been better than everything else he ever did. You always knew how to make the world not feel so heavy and you do it even now and Jason doesn't even think you realize you do it. You just do as if it's in your nature. And he feels better. Somehow.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed as he puts the bottle off to the side before grabbing one of the books. He slides himself back until his back hits the cool wall.

"Really?" You ask with hope in your eyes.

"I owe you, yeah. I can read to you." Jason nods his head once before he opens the book, trying to play off how fast his heart is starting to race.

You smile widely before you climb onto the bed with him, sitting right next to him on your knees. You hesitate for a second because it's not like it was before. Before, you were friends. You were at least friends. And maybe you're friends now, but you're also exes and that feels like it makes it complicated. Last night, Jason was high and devasted. That was different than this. This suddenly feels personal and vulnerable again and you aren't sure you're supposed to be here like this. Not when you broke him.

"You gonna just sit like that or?" Jason questions, a tint of hope in his words because he wants you closer, he's just not sure if that's too invasive now. So, he plays it off just as he's always done as if that's a signal to you that it's okay because you always understood that part of him. "Not gonna fucking bite you." Jason quips, a tint of sarcasm in his voice. "That's your thing."

You shake your head, doing a double take. "Um, last time I checked, you were into it." You blink at him just as Jason looks back to you. He gains a shit-eating grin, shrugging his shoulder slightly. "Yeah, exactly. And you fucking branded me once, remember that?" You point out the time Jason littered you in hickies.

Jason's head hits the wall behind him as he lets out a booming laugh, the sound reverberating off the walls. His nose scrunches and you think he's never looked more at peace right now. It's as if he is so proud of himself.

"Yeah, and you were into it, too." Jason lets out a scoff and you want to both kiss and bite the smirk off his face.

Jason looks back to you and you're sitting close, faces just inches from each other. You're looking at with him the fake scowl you always did when you knew you wouldn't have any type of comeback and you'd have to cave and tell him to go fuck himself. But, then Jason sees the corner of your mouth twitch into something cheeky and taunting. And he swears he has never been so captivated by someone before.

"Yeah, I was." You nod your head, throwing Jason the bone as you laugh.

"Fucking exactly." Jason's voice is low this time, brows pulling together.

You glance to his lips and you almost just bite the damn bullet. But, that might ruin what you're doing right now, so you roll your eyes. "Fuck you." Sam scoffs as Jason gains his signature triumphant grin.

"Time and place, babe." Jason beams right back at you.

"Insufferable." You repeat as a warm smile replaces the smirk. "Okay," You suck in a breath. "So, we lay like we always did before?" You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek as your eyes widen slightly with hope.

It hurts a little bit that you're hesitant and Jason knows that's on him. You've never been hesitant in showing him physical affection. Even the first night he read to you, the only reason you stood there is because you were confused as to what Jason was doing. But, the second he asked you to sit, sarcastically with a bite in his voice, you went right to him and cuddled into his side. It has always been that easy and that simple. It should be that way, still. Regardless of everything that's happening. You both can keep that part of you and him.

So, he extends his arm.

"You don't have to ask." Jason states simply and casually because it should always be that simple.

"I just don't want to overstep." You mutter softly, dodging his eyes.

"You can't overstep." Jason almost whispers right back, no sarcasm or bite or snark in his tone.

Things might be hard and Jason might want to push and run and scream and break. He might feel far too exposed again and scared of getting hurt again and scared of everything, but you're the one person who can never overstep. You can do whatever you want and say whatever you want and ask whatever you want.

You give him this genuine and joyful smile as your face softens. "You can't either." You nod your head softly. You scoot down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, placing your arm over his stomach and you feel him relax right under you. He still feels warm and safe, just as he did before.

Once you're comfortable against him, Jason swears this is the safest he has felt since coming back. It is the most comfortable he has felt. He doesn't remember what it was like last night but tonight, he knows he can just exist with you. There are no obligations to anyone or anything. And relief fills his blood, his entire body falling into a state of relaxation and he hadn't even realized he hasn't relaxed at all since coming back. Maybe this is what you both really need. Just one night of normalcy for you both and comfort and safety. Just him and you.

"Thanks again for coming." Jason whispers above your head.

"Always." You whisper right back, running your thumb along the fabric of his hoodie covering his torso. Jason sucks in a breath, running his hand along your hoodie-covered shoulder before Jason's voice about Bilbo's birthday starts to fill the room.

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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anintrovertwriter · 6 months ago

Text

Vinicius imagine, Forever support

I just came home after my running session. I had to keep healthy and in form, and even though Vini didn’t really like me going to run alone, I still did it. Going into the gym room on my own was impossible. I didn’t have the motivation to face it alone if I didn’t have my teacher, my handsome personal trainer.

I rushed in the shower, and when I came back, my phone was buzzing with me being tagged on Ig stories or with texts, posts about Vinicius during the press conference. Worry came.

My phone wasn’t used to this many notifications. I was used to receiving more since dating Vini, but not at this point. I was getting more and more intrigued. I wouldn’t have been if it was him but he couldn't because he didn’t have access to his phone at this time of day. We facetimed each other every morning and every night, even though we’ve been separated for just a few days. Even if he was still in Spain. It was our ritual.

He was currently for the week with the Brazilian national team for two games : one in London and the other in Sevilla against Spain.

I was supposed to come in the afternoon before the game, but everything changed the moment I left the shower.

I was quick to open the stories, and my heart broke. There was my man crying, after answering questions about racism and the situation he had to face at almost every game. Seeing him so emotional, breaking down and fighting the tears, but it was too strong, too much pain that needed to explode.

“ Solo quiero jugar al fútbol. Solo quiero jugar. Solo quiero hacerlo todo por mi club, por mi familia.”

It was too strong to carry on his own, all this hate. I never understood it , and never will. How can people be so cruel over others ? To the point of chants and a hung doll over a bridge. Cruelty beyond understatement.

So as soon as I saw that, I finished my suitcase crying for my man and took the first train to Seville, where they were staying during the international break.

On my way, I called Rodrygo, who luckily answered. He was the Brazilian I was the closest to, we were seeing each other a lot and he became my friend too. He confirmed my boyfriend’s current state, and showed me Vini’s room. I wouldn't have made it without him, so I mentally noted to thank him properly once back in Madrid. I was afraid of not being welcomed at the hotel, but they understood the situation.

It has only been a few day’s separation, but I still miss him like crazy, as always. The house felt empty without his laugh, I felt empty as well.

Rodrygo and I chatted briefly in the hotel before his physio appointment and I was finally in front of Vini’s room. I took a deep breath and knocked, worried about how I would find him.

A quiet “ Entra” was heard and I let myself in.

Laid down on his bed with his training kit on, he was scrolling on his phone. Tiredness mixed with sadness readable on his face.

He looked up, wondering about who could be there.

A few seconds passed, he was quick to change into shock, surprise and a small smile. I didn’t give him the time to get up and I knocked him down with all my strength, which was nothing compared to him.

Vinicius buried his face in my neck, his hands around my body. I felt a loving kiss under my ear and he managed, easily, to make me get back. We looked at each other.

“ Amor, what are you doing here ? Are you ok ?”

Silly him, to think about me instead of him.

“ I’m fine. I just wanted to see you, after what happened.

He sighed before guiding me to sit next to him.

I am so sorry bêbe, I said, taking his hand into mine.

It’s not your fault.

I know, but I feel so mad and sad. You don’t deserve that. No one does.

He looked at me, eyes so sad it broke my heart once more.

Maybe I got what I deserved.

Don’t ever say you’re not worth it, because that’s a horrible lie. Look what you've achieved. From Brazil to become one of the greatest football players. You use your visibility to raise your voice about something that should never exist. You have all the right to speak about your feelings, because no one should have suffered the way you do. It’s ok to fight it, because it is unbearable. I’ve never experienced it myself, but seeing you affected is unbearable. I am hurt too, but I can’t fully understand your feelings. If you’re hurt, I’m hurt. If you cry I cry. Despite everything, I believe and have faith in humanity. I’m sure we can change things, life and mentality. All together.

I breathed deeply after what could have been a speech. He was used to my rantings, but not such as this one. And I wasn’t done.

Baby, you are not alone. I’m with you. Always. If it had to be us against the world, then so be it.

He looked at me for a few seconds, smiled with gleamed eyes and simply said

Eu te amo.

Meu amor, te amo mais que tudo.

Seeing him like this, so vulnerable and sad, without his confidence made my heart shatter.

So I did what I thought was best, dropping everything to be with him. Like we always did. Talking about it, even if it was hard , he had to take some of the pain out. It was too much of a burden to carry alone. He thought it but he knew deep down he had me.

“ No one should be racially insulted because you are better than them on and outside the pitch. You are a wonderful person Vinícius José Paixão de Oliveira Júnior. And I'll be more than proud to recall you everyday. “

I took a deep breath, and he let me silent before kissing me fiercely. He held my jaw and kept me close to him, like I’d ever wanted to leave his embrace.

“ I would marry you right now if I could.

My joking baby is back, I said, glad to see his smile on his face again.

I’m not kidding, I will marry you you know Y/N, he said all serious.

I can’t wait then, I said kissing his nose.”

We stayed in each other's arms for a while, our breathing the only thing heard.

“ Where are you staying tonight? You’re not coming home are you ?

No, I took all my stuff and went there as soon as I heard. I didn't think of a hotel to be honest, all I was thinking was you.

He smiled and pecked me.

O seleccionador wouldn't let you there, sadly, but I’m gonna ask the assistant to find you a hotel.

That would be great, thanks love.

Thank you anjo.

Me ? What for ? I’ve done nothing.

On the contrary. Thank you for dropping everything to come to me. for caring for me, for loving, for supporting me no matter what.

Always

Eu te amo.

Eu te amo coração. And you’ll have to score to show the world you are the best footballer in the universe

I’ll do my best amor.

And of course he did it, scored and celebrated to prove all the haters wrong, that he was stronger than them. He didn’t forget his signature heart and kiss on his wrist, where my initials laid all inked, and pointed me in the stands. I couldn't be prouder of my man.

#vinicius jr #vini jr #vini jr imagine #vinicius jr imagine #Vinicius imagine #vini jr x reader #Vinicius x reader #vini fluff

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detectiveaku · 3 months ago

Note

hihi!! you asked for my thoughts on stormbringer after i finished reading it, so i'm here to say what few coherent thoughts abt the book i currently have because oh my god that was life changing in the best possible way. genuinely considering buying a physical copy for myself now.

i love how much more fleshed out chuuya was as a character, and the dynamics between him, verlaine, adam, and shirase were all extremely compelling to me. like i didn't expect to come out of this liking shirase but AUGH the character development from him was not something i saw coming. AND ADAM'S DEVELOPMENT OHHH MY GOD. what if i exploded in the best possible way i ended up loving him a lot.

i also found some of the bits we saw from dazai to be extremely fascinating.... like when he tells verlaine that he'll mourn over his birth rather than his death. augh. and the skk dynamic in this book was so. they're both insane in the best possible way. ESH you two are perfect for one another etc.

funnily enough i came out of this book with verlaine being my favorite from it. something about him is so incredibly tragic in a way that always gets me specifically. like him just sitting and mourning rimbaud. oh my god. oh my god. also the amount of sympathy he showed towards chuuya's clone despite thinking he was a human is so. gah. i need to re-read stormbringer at some point this book is absolutely amazing

@heartless-curr (so i get the notif. sigh. when will tumblr let you send asks on a side blog </33)

haiiiii i hope you didnt mind me in your replies throughout the liveblogging, stormbringer is probably my second favorite arc, second only to the mersault/airport arc which goes crazy of course.

what i admire most about stormbringer is bringing in this cast of characters that perfectly exemplifies the theme it is very explicitly telling you it is diving into. it creates incredible tension because you know how this plays out from the beginning. chuuya will discover that he is human. the thing in question isnt that, its what that means to chuuya, and what it means to you.

so you have adam, a non-human with human traits. N, a human with inhuman traits. dazai, who questions whether those "inhuman" traits are inhuman at all, or if murder and torture are perfectly human, but also dazai, a human having a lifelong existential crisis of what that means. verlaine, a non-human who lived a human life for a time, and who rejects doing it ever again.

and chuuya. and stormbringer isn't necessarily about whether chuuya is human or not (its obvious that the conclusion will be that he is human), its about what that means. and where everyone else falls in that world.

are you born human, or do you become human through living passionately?

and the rest is history. dazai trusting chuuya, chuuya trusting dazai. suffering, and fighting back. vengeance and forgiveness. whatever the fuck rimbaud and verlaine had going on.

"disgrace, huh?" <- i think about this line dozens of times in a day. what do you mean by that dazai? what exactly are you feeling about this person who literally by the hand of a god completes your plans, whose hands you put your life in at every chance because he puts his in yours, and who helps you understand your own humanity through his struggle with his own? if chuuya's true form isn't a disgrace, what might it be?

im tired of gay people. adam frankenstein is incredible and i want him in the ADA right this minute. i love him so much. "i get to protect you. i couldn't ask for more." putting aside the skk of that sentence, thats love, isnt it? the most passionate thing you can do! adam's ability to follow his heart makes him, in my opinion, human.

#stormbringer #soukoku #bsd chuuya

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the-greatest-choice-developer · 2 months ago

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[System Notification]

Your choice has been registered:

Lloyd – Double Down

Interrupted - Magic Glitch caused by explosion

[System Notification]

-Scene 1: The Explosion-

-Part 5-

Lloyd’s frustration boiled over as he tried to defend himself. The more he spoke, the harder it became to stay calm, something twisting inside of him. It wasn’t just Javier’s accusations—there was a sensation crawling under his skin, distorting his thoughts, pulling at the edges of his mind.

“How am I supposed to know that?” Lloyd spat, his voice rising, almost shaking. “You're saying that you are going to believe I’m telling the truth, but you clearly aren't. Otherwise you wouldn't expect me to know the answer to that question. I get that we’re in a weird situation, but you—you’re only looking for faults in me! How can I even explain myself when you’ve already made up your mind?"” He swallowed hard, feeling a strange pulse around him, like something was forcing him to keep going, making his emotions spiral.

Javier’s stern gaze remained unyielding, though his expression had shifted slightly. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but the atmosphere around them seemed to be growing heavier, charged with a strange, distorted energy.

Lloyd continued, his frustration reaching a peak. “I get that you’re suspicious of the people around you, but how am I supposed to prove I’m not the person you think I am?!” His words came out faster now, more frantic. The ground trembled lightly beneath them, and the air shimmered, colors distorting. “You’ve hated me for so long, but I’ve been trying! I’ve been trying to change how you see me—how everyone sees me!” His breath hitched, his chest tightening as his emotions swelled, feeling unnaturally heightened. “Can’t I just be successful for once in my miserable life?!”

As Lloyd’s voice cracked, the environment around them shifted violently. The colors darkened, everything turning an eerie shade of blue. Plants nearby began to grow at a rapid pace, twisting and stretching into the sky, their leaves enormous and unnatural. In seconds, they bore fruit—large, heavy, and pulsing with strange energy. The fruits ripened unnaturally fast before exploding in a shower of shimmering gold dust.

Javier blinked, his heart racing as the scene unfolded. He could feel it now—Lloyd’s emotions weren’t just his own. Something, some otherworldly force, was amplifying them, pushing Lloyd further into his frustration and anger. The magic swirling around them was feeding on it, warping reality in response to the young lord’s outburst.

Injured villagers who had been caught in the earlier explosion started to recover, their burns fading, their wounds closing up before their very eyes. But it didn’t feel right. The magic was too powerful, too quick, too unnatural. As their skin mended, it almost seemed like the air around them warped, bending under the pressure of something far greater than either of them.

Then came the voice. Warped and haunting, it echoed through the distorting landscape. “A wish by the Almighty...”The words vibrated through Lloyd and Javier, as if the very world itself was speaking to them. The ground beneath them cracked open, deep fissures spreading outward as enormous vines erupted from below, twisting up and around like living creatures. The plants bore fruit again, only for the process to repeat—ripen, burst, and leave behind piles of shimmering gold.

Javier’s body felt heavy. The air pressed against his chest, suffocating him with the overwhelming presence of a power that didn’t belong in this world. Something was trying to invade his thoughts, a foreign presence whispering in his mind, urging him to stop questioning, to accept Lloyd without hesitation.

“No... no, this isn’t right,” Javier muttered to himself, his vision swimming as the force clawed at his judgment. He could feel his mind being pushed, shaped, as if the magic around him was trying to make him believe in Lloyd’s innocence, trying to erase the suspicion that had been gnawing at him.

His hands clenched into fists as he fought back against the influence. “This... this isn’t real. Something is manipulating us... trying to twist my mind...”

Lloyd, meanwhile, stood in the center of the chaos, oblivious to the warping magic. His emotions had spiraled out of control, driven by some unseen force that distorted his frustration into a boiling rage. He wasn’t just angry anymore—his feelings were magnified beyond anything he could comprehend.

Javier fought to maintain clarity, his thoughts a battlefield between his own will and the overwhelming force surrounding them. His instincts screamed at him to resist, but the magic was relentless, pushing harder with every second.

“What is this... power?” Javier whispered, eyes darting around as the landscape continued to warp. He could see it now—Lloyd’s anger wasn’t natural. It had been twisted, just like the plants, just like the gold. Something was pulling the strings behind the scenes, warping reality and emotions alike.

They needed to get a grip on the situation, fast.

[System Notification]

[ERROR: Tumblr does not like editing posts with polls. The navigation menu will be discontinued.]

#tged #the greatest estate designer #the greatest estate developer #choose your own adventure

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riacte · 1 year ago

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Space Opera AU dashboard simulator round 3 (but it gets a bit unhinged 😳) (post 1 and post 2)

🗣️ bisexual-minerals-deactivated3467821

so there's this pretty lumian girl in my class. she's usually quiet and unassuming, but everyone knows she has an incredibly handsome lykos guy picking her up after class in his stupid scrappy clothes and blue sunglasses in his roaring glider and they run away to do whatever. void i wish that were me. what would i give to have the freedom to zoom in a sickass glider with a hot boy/girlfriend. i am absolutely sickkkkkkkkk with want. i want her life sooo bad i'm going crazy i'm going to thrwo up

🗣️ bisexual-minerals-deactivated3467821

why is this old post gaining notes. and why did my highschool groupchat explode with 564 notifications overnight

🗣️ bisexual-minerals-deactivated3467821

MY EX CLASSMATE IS IN ET1??? she's a gunner now good for her and HOLY SHIT HER PARTNER LOOKS EVEN HOTTER THAN BEFORE WOOOOOOOO

🗣️ bisexual-minerals-deactivated3467821

wow 👍

isexuality

🍃 frogottenlands Follow

seeing this post is like seeing a soldier in the trenches during the 4th intergalactic war. first bisexual casualty of the combined power of queen of hearts and red king. it was so much that it deactivated op. i hope op is doing good these days

🪓 handoftheking

I mean, I totally get it. I would also be sick with want

#et1 #et1blr #dogwarts racing team #i can hear everyone screaming at me in the notes already #by the way: queen of hearts >>>>>>> red king. sorry ren

5,498 notes

🚀 renthepilot

Hello good people of Sunblr! <3 <3 do girls find it attractive if I can count to twenty in different languages >.> RD

❤️ falsewell

🚀 renthepilot

Stranger, this is immensely rude!! Please #GetOff my post. Your opinion is not welcomed. RD

🚀 renthepilot

!!!! IM SORRY FALSIE I DIDNT READ I DIDNT REALISE IT WAS YOU!!! >0< :(((( RD

❤️ falsewell

lol it's good

i'm throwing you in jail for one thousand years. byeeeeee ren

🚀 renthepilot

🥺🥺🥺??????!?!?!?!! you LEAVE me?? FOREVER!?!??!!? OUTRAGEOUS!!!!!

❤️ falsewell

nah probably not forever. maybe like twelve years. ten if you behave

🚀 renthepilot

:DDD

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

👗 takenbyrk Follow

OMGGGGG RK'S ACTUAL SUNBLR?? hiiiiiiiiiii rk you're attractive no matter what you say you're so handsome and gorgeous kyaaaaa~~ please be my boyfriend uwu >.<

#rklove #rkboyfriend #et1 #💞 #🐶

671 notes

💙 saltair Follow

It's so cute how H and Fruit helped QoH and RK win their first GPs and now they're coaching them back 🥺💙🦇 they've really came full circle

💙 saltair Follow

It's so cute how H and Fruit helped QoH and RK win their first GPs and now they're coaching them back 🥺💙🦇 the tables have turned fr

💙 saltair Follow

It's so wholesome how H and Fruit helped QoH and RK win their first GPs and now they're coaching them back 🥺💙🦇 they've came full circle fr

🎀 pinkjupiter Follow

girl help. i think one of my mutual's been stuck in a time loop for almost a year now. the only thing she's been posting ever since she went to the red desert is that blue bats gp from forever ago. come back from the war bestie, we miss you so much <3 <3

🎀 pinkjupiter Follow

oh nvm. i hope you stay in that timeloop forever. is the timeloop fun. i really hope it's fun bc it's fucking awful out here

#a bit of lighthearted humour in these times #also of all ages to get stuck at in a loop, it HAD to be 17. truly one of the worst ages #i hope she's doing okay #i hope i won't be old and wrinkly when you finally escape from the timeloop #we promised to watch the star knights trilogy finale... and now they're making a fifth movie #at least your ship became canon in the fourth movie lol

208 notes

🐬 everytimewetouch Follow

Hi Orbitors! Welcome to Sunblr! Hope you find a nice place to stay after the great Orbit blackout :)

🔺dancefloortwink917 Follow

Just arrived here... there's more treebark truthing than I expected 😂😅

🪩 cuntymirrorball Follow

Doesn't Orbit have that totally disrespectful conspiracy theory about the Blue Stalker over at o/bluestalkertruth? Pot calling kettle back huh

🔺dancefloortwink917 Follow

Well well well. 😇

And all of it happened before your cringe yaoi boys could even kiss each other on the cheek COMMON L

#get wrecked treebark truthers! #big W for us orbitors #who's in copium hell now huh? #:)

10,761 notes

🏎️ overtakes Follow

my only wish for the new et1 season is that et1twt learns to make their own gifs instead of stealing from sunblr

🏎️ overtakes Follow

still relevant 10 years later lol

🍋 lemonadesyrup Follow

holy crap it's THE overtakes?? we all thought you were dead?? like the streets were saying you were last seen at a distant fuel station in sector 451 and then you vanished from all social media

🏎️ overtakes Follow

lmao are y'all still believing my ex-cousin and her fake stories? i didn't die. i never died

🍋 lemonadesyrup Follow

i'm glad you're safe but i'm still very confused

🏎️ overtakes Follow

it's not confusing! death is merely a social construct ^_^

#but you can imagine i resurrected myself after hearing people on et1twt were reposting my gifs without credit #im putting an ugly watermark over everything now

3,667 notes

#space opera au #dashboard simulator #treebark #trafficshipping #unreality #making this made me a little sad :( but in a 💀 way #btw im bi. and the false+ren making bisexuals go crazy thing is REAL and TRUE CAN ANYONE HEAR ME!!!!#i went thru the f1 tag for research and its fascinating in a good way #i could never ngl. beyond my abilities

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definitelynotshouting · 1 year ago

Note

OUGHHH sorry to be on anon, I need to make a proper tumblr to talk to people in hermitblr but currently I only have a sideblog and am not gonna expose my ten year old main aklsdjhfdklas, but I am the author of the romeo and juliet au tysm you made my heart grow warm and fuzzy and then explode I've never seen my fic mentioned out in te wild before <33333

to fuel ur theatre au brainworms, in the romeo and juliet au: mercutio is bdubs + benvolio is cleo, and jimmy and joel are sampson and gregory (two capulets from the start of the play they're such dumbasses my absolute beloveds), so we've got the design philosophy of the montagues and the capulets mirroring the aesthetics of the family and the bad boysss. (I never came up with a design for bad boy!Ren when he steps in as Tybalt instead of Grian during show week but I feel it's not too hard to imagine hehe)

but also (separately from that au, because I saw other talk of the life series and theatre and plays on ur blog) I constantly think about the life series as a greek tragedy, specifically in relation to the purpose of the series' inevitable tragedy being catharsis for the watchers (with the watchers also being literally the viewers). we love to see them suffer!!! but there's also a bunch of politics surrounding greek tragedies that Plato and Aristotle had discourse about that you can rope into it and tldr; my understanding is catharsis was Aristotle's answer to Plato's concern that tragedies' emotive affect could encourage rebellion against the state, with Aristotle saying that instead the cycle of pity and fear and eventual catharsis felt by the audience has a "purifying" effect that's like an emotional release from those emotions instead. Then with the extra layer of lore the fandom has surrounding Grian running away from the watchers, if Grian designs the life games, to the end of sating the watchers' need to emotionally feed (thank you Martyn for that piece of lore I'm stealing it jkfhdsk), the purpose of the games could be the cleansing of the watchers' discomfort with him running away and being a player and maintaining the status quo where Grian is actually the one in control !!!! even if he makes himself suffer. also different characters "curses" as their harmatia!! And, if we interpret the watchers as a fictional force AND the viewers simultaneously, then the chorus could absolutely be watchers who are vocal in the fandom - removed from the "players" (and OH how I love the dual meaning of minecraft players and players as in actors) but providing additional commentary and insight into what's happening that further feeds the emotional experience of the audience !!

alsooooo if you don't know the show "& Juliet" scar and grian are ALSO romeo and juliet in that to me, it's their last life/early double life era </3

theatre theatre theatre theatre theatre theatre theatre theatre

YOOOOOOOOO HELLO OP YOUR FIC IS AMAZING AND IM GLAD I COULD REC IT BC IT DESERVES RECOGNIZED!!!!! Also all of this is AMAZING im so obsessed with bdubs being mercutio and cleo being benvolio. Thats incredible like HELLO????? based choices tbh thats so fun

Also super obsessed with the meta of plays feeding into the watcher canon (and im STILL not over martyn somehow accidentally canonizing a key element of my au, this is insane, i came up with the idea for watchers feeding on player emotions in SEPTEMBER OF LAST YEAR), thats so fucking neat, i love a good tragedy OUGHHHHH its so compelling.

Also no worries about being on anon!!!! I did that too before i finally cleaned up my main blog so all the posts were privated, and then changed my url to match this one so ppl would recognize me WHEEEEEZE. Smth that helped me was tagging my own sideblog in anon asks i sent, so ppl would know it was me, and i'd get the notif when it got answered. Ofc you might not be comfortable linking your sideblog, but if you ever made one you wanted to sign off with, thats the option i used for a while before using mass post editor to private my entire main blog!!!!

theatre theatre theatre!!! Your ideas are SO pog and cool my dude feel free to ramble to me any time :]

#shouting speaks #asks #scarian #hermitcraft #3rd life #WATCHERS AS GREEK CHORUS.... WHAT IF I WENT INSANE /POS #long post #txt

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causenessus · 3 months ago

Note

hi my dearest loveliness !! good evening afternoon OR morning I HOPE YOUR DAY IS GOING WELL TODAY!! AND I HOPE YOUVE EATEN!! i literally just woke up (it’s 3pm…. my parents literally watched me come out of my room and were like ???)(you just woke up???)LMFAO BUT BUT i’m back to work tomorrow so i wanted to sleep in a lot today(I HAVE A 9-5:30 RIGHT OFF THE BAT)(MY WORK HATES ME??)but omg i just saw the ask from sav(sorry am i allowed to call her that too)(IM SORRY IDK) and i was like AWWWW “you and your mango anon” I AM NESS’ MANGO ANON idk why i thought it was so cute and sweet like YOU GIGGLE AND READ THEM?? THATS SO CUTE?? IM GONNA EXPLODE?? but let’s all yap together this is yap central(a safe place for yappers)

omg last night i got so many notifs if you answering every ask bat to bat and I FELT SO BAD BECAUSE I WROTE A LOT YESTERDAY BUT YOU STILL ANSWERED EACH ASK WITH LIKE SO SO MUCH PASSION??(idk if that’s the right word) but you always answer each ask with ur heart like non of it is halfassed(sorry am i allowed to swear)(IVE BEEN REFRAINING FROM SWEARING BECAUSE IDK I DONT THINK IVE SEEN YOU SWEAR OUTSIDE YOUR SMAUS???)(or idk i’m crazy i think i’m crazy)

I WOULD SHARE WHAT CONCERT IT WAS LIKE I WAS GOING TO but i was like omg i’m gonna dox myself LOL BUT actually you know what’s so funny i don’t even live in the states(LORE DROP) ALSO DECLAN MCKENNA?? THATS SO COOL THAT YOU GOT TO SEE HIM i think he’s on tour again right now?? or just performing right now (I THINK) im pretty sure i saw on ticketmaster! i would 100% go but literally my bank account is decreasing a little too much for my liking and it’s time to lock in and go ultra saving mode LOL BUT OMG MITSKI??? stop it if i was rich i would 100% fly over to your state and buy tickets for you and me and we could go together and have our losing dogs moment(on repeat by eggy always in my heart)(literally one of my fav smaus LOL)

ness i will read every single part of your response LITERALLY I WILL READ AND ABSORB EVERY PART SO do not worry your pretty little head(as i said this i imagined myself tapping your head with a pretty little fairy stick)BUT OMG ME AND YOU WORKING AT ILLEGAL AGES(actually actually hold on)okay because i started working my retail job when i was 15 but i was like a week away from turning 16 but they accepted me anyways? idk it’s kind of silly but i remember saying i was 15 but turning 16 in a “few days” (i think it was a week and a bit) and they were like mmmm okay! here’s your training days blah blah blah LOL listen i really wanted a job… i always felt bad asking my parents for money so i was like you know what ILL get my own money(here i am 2-3 years later still trapped in retail)also i totally get the hostess thing because my friend works at olive garden as a hostess and like it SOUNDS SO STRESSFUL? because like… you’re kinda in control of how much tips a person gets? (if that makes sense) and it just feels ITS TOO STRESSFUL FOR ME TO FANTOM LIKE i cant i feel like im too much of a people pleaser where id just be like oh! oh you don’t want this table? okay! oh i have you too many tables? i’m sorry! my bad! let me do it! ALSO IDK i hate fixed schedules like i like the random rotation every week LOL like it’s kinda a surprise!! like omg what days am i working today type of thing you know! BUT OMG THEM KEEPING YOU ON STANDBY IS CRAZY AFTER YOU QUIT LOL they love you so much they want to keep you <3 i can’t blame them <3 ness is a very lovable person <3 but restaurant environments are different from retail idk how you do it like I APPAUD YOU AND EVERY OTHER RESTAURANT WORKER because like dealing with hangry people everyday like… i already deal with impatient customers which make me wanna pull my hair like i remember one time during this rush we had everyone on cash like everyone on the tills right and this guy came up to my till and he’s like “yall need more workers” LIKE CANT YOU SEE EVERYONE ON THE TILLS RIGHT NOW??WE ARE TRYING OUR BEST !! and i was deadass like “haha sorry….. would you like a bag for 50 cents?”

ALSO YOURE SO BUSY WHAT?? your schedule is so jacked up HOW DO YOU DO IT??? like literally uni + job AND THEATRE??? and also the fact that you have more than one job?? PLS PLS PLS EAT AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF LOVE YOURE GONNA BURN OUT </3

omg if i worked lights with you it would’ve been so so so much better like i’m not discrediting the light people i worked with BUT it was the fact that they were a year younger right so they didn’t really know what they were doing since all our light crew graduated and for some reason people didn’t like doing lights as much? so they were just first years doing lights and i had to help out a bunch and kind of guide them BCUZ IDK WHY MY TECH TEACHER DIDNT DO IT RIGHT so i had to focus on sound PLUS helping the lights people which i don’t really mind too much when we’re just having rehearsals but like during shows i was a little more stressed because they weren’t that confident and was always asking just to make sure and it was 100% not their fault of course but I WAS STILL STRESSED and doing my hardest to help him while trying to also keep track of where the play was(sorry very messy)(i too am like you and i do NOT proof read these whatsoever) IF I COULD I WOULD DROP EVERYTHING AND FLY THERE !! we could be the light + sound duo because i literally miss my tech days like i lowkey thought about doing it in uni but IDK WHY I DIDNT !! I SHOULDVE !! also another suna smau would heal me (LMFAO NO PRESSURE) BUT I LITERALLY LOVE ALL OF INARIZAKI?? like they all have my heart(especially kita and osamu like oh my god)BUT OH MY GOD IF YOU DO I THINK ILL CRY LIKE “OMG THATS ME GUYS” “I AM MANGO ANON !!!” BUT you have sooooo much stuff lined up so DO NOT WORRY TOO MUCH!! what you’ve been giving right now (TRY AGAIN AND TONICS <333) is already so good like the idea and concepts AND IM SO EXCITED FOR THEM TOO AHH

THE CAST NOT BEINF ABLE TO PROJECT THEIR VOICES ARE SO REAL !!! maybe i’m just saying this because i only did plays in high school right so it was a bunch of kids right but it was soooo frustrating because like SPEAK UP but also the fact that some cast got better mics than others? like tell me why i can’t hear this lead but i can hear this random person playing a citizen like?? BUT LITERALLY WHEN MICS DIE I LITERALLY WANNA JUST FALL TO THE FLOOR LIKE and the director is just like “keep going” LIKE DONT KEEP GOING WHAT? I CANT HEAR? like i literally feel like i have to focus my energy like some type of anime character to my ears just to hear a SNIPPET of what they’re saying but then sometimes i get in trouble for missing cues </3 LIKE I’M SORRY IT ISNT MY FAULT LIKE MAYBE GET BETTER SPEAKERS AND MICS?? also not you literally running the whole tech crew like rewiring the motherboard and climbing stuff like ness mvp tech girl LOL BUT I GET NOT WANTING TO THINK ABOUT THOSE TIMES LIKE i swear all tech/cast crew environments are SO toxic like i literally remember one of the cast fainting because like we literally got no breaks at all so she was probably overwhelmed with the lighting and everything else then that’s when the director was like ok… let’s take a break like YOU THINK??

ALSO YOURE SO RIGHT if the previous men i’ve talked to is on tumblr reading cutesy little haikyuu x femreader stuff THEN THATS ANOTHER PROBLEM(NO STOP I LITERALLY GIGGLED SO HARD WHEN YOU SAID THAT LOL)(everytime i read your responses im always smiling and giggling like i always reread it too LOL) but omg ness… the quarantine online gaming breakout season is such a canon event like BECAUSE ME TOOOOO LOL(we are so soulmates) mine was a mix of minecraft and roblox and I LITERALLY MET A WHOLE GROUP ONLINE TOO IT WAS CRAZY the ptsd flashbacks is so real but THATS SO GIRLBOSS OF YOU LIKE YES!! CALL MEN OUT ON THEIR SHIT!!(sorry swearing again) BE NO MANS PEACE!! i will literally find him and politely beat him up for you <333 TIME FOR LORE DROP AND IF THE PERSON READS THIS THEN ??? WELL ??? oh well LOL but anyways so i was in this little online group idk i kind of just found them through twitter and i was like WHY NOT so i became friends with this guy he went by socks(discord names are so real)and like we got really close right and like he was the only person i really VC’d with (AND AND TO BE FAIR I THINK ITS BECAUSE WE WERE LIKE THE BABIES OF THE GROUP) like we were the same age while everyone else was like 19-25ish now(idk what i was doing hanging out with them as a minor but oh well)(i’m 18 now so it’s ok!)(but i literally don’t talk to any of them now LOL)but i remember this one specific conversation where he was like teaching me spanish?? because i don’t know i was teaching him viet too so it was just a silly little thing and i translated it(this was through texts like i still have the screenshot LOL) and he basically confessed to me through text in spanish right then afterwards they were like JK JK JK!! IDK idk if it was real or not but we drifted a lot after that so idk! sock if ur out there !! im sorry !! to be fair though they didn’t give me a chance to reply because i had to translate it then when i came back to the chat they were like IM JK IM JK SO idk! I GUESS WE’LL NEVER KNOW!! also i will def report back when i get a poke bowl but im very very picky about the way i eat raw fish bevause sometimes it’s okay but when there’s an overwhelming amount i kind of get scared and im like hmmm maybeeee.. not this time… LOL It really depends for me!! but maybe ill try the imitation crab one if i see it!

AND UR SO RIGHT ONE DAY I WILL COME TO YOU AND I WILL BE UR GUARD DOG AT WORK !!! i’m glad yesterday was better! hopefully it keeps getting better, i will fight off the bad omens for you ness i will stand in the front lines fighting them off I COULD NEVER BE DISAPPOINTED IN YOU but i will be a tiny tiny bit upset because I WANT YOU TO EAT WELL AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF !! eggs and toast is so real but don’t worry :( a meal is a meal and you did good by getting up and making yourself something small! little steps are okay, i will be here along the way so don’t worry! take your time <333 I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR DAY!! (it literally took me an hour to write this because now it’s 4:30)(BUT i did eat in between writing) I HAD RICE AND CHICKEN YIPPPPEE!! i had to take a little break to eat then i continued writing LOL(but so real on saying ill go back but you never do because … me too)(i’m too lazy to look back on what i wrote so ill just trust myself) (mango anon loves you very much pls take care of yourself) (ALSO) i just realized i could make the font smaller (thank you again sav for the idea) so it would be easier to scroll pass these LOL BUT ANYWAYS MAKE SURE TO EAT AND REST WELL !!! xoxoxoxo

HELLO MY LOVE!!! MY DAY WAS PRETTY OKAY!! BESIDES THE CAR CRISIS OFC 😭😭 AND PLEASE WAKING UP AT 3PM IS SO REAL I'VE DONE THAT BEFORE </33 AND ESPECIALLY IF U WORK A 9-5:30 TOMORROW DEFINITELY GET ALL THE SLEEP YOU CAN GET!! REST UP AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF PLS <3 MAKE SURE TO DRINK LOTS OF WATER AND BRING PLENTY WITH YOU TOMORROW AND PLEASE EAT!! and don't apologize at all you're def okay to call sav sav as well (i'm pretty sure!!) AND YOU ARE MY MANGO ANON <33 AND I LOVE U SM!! AND I LOVE UR PARANTHESES LMAO THEY'RE SO CUTE <3 YES YAP CENTRAL!!

AND omg mango anon i just have to tell you like how honored i am <3 like i feel so seen by you!! the way you see the passion in my writing and like notice that i don't curse outside of my writing pls :(( my face is literally going :((( rn /pos i try not to curse outside of my writing just bc it's not my thing!! but ofc you can and like sometimes i still do!! definitely do whatever you want AND SORRY FOR ALL THE NOTIFS YESTERDAY AND TODAY SINCE I'M DOING THE SAME THING LMAO 😭 i'm the one that lets them bunch up so dw about them at all!! and mango anon i genuinely love talking and replying to you so so much AND I'M REALLY SO THANKFUL FOR EVERY ASK FROM ANYONE SO OFC I'LL BE ANSWERING IT WITH PASSION!! I GET WHAT YOU MEAN ENTIRELY AND I'M GLAD THAT GETS ACROSS WELL <3 I JUST APPRECIATE YOU ALL SM <3

AND YOU DEF DON'T HAVE TO SAY WHAT CONCERT YOU WENT TO!! I WAS WORRIED ABOUT LIKE THAT DOXXING U OR SOMETHING bc i had no idea you didn't live in the states!!! i definitely automatically assumed that and that maybe u had went to a different state since we were in the same timezone for a little bit but that makes total sense and that was my bad for assuming 😭😭 BUT AA YES!! I'D LOVE TO SEE HIM AGAIN AND MAYBE I WILL <3 LIKE HIS TICKETS DEF ARE NOT BAD PRICING AND HE'S AMAZING!!! i'm just insanely broke and like ik he's touring with sabrina carpenter rn or something??? which is super cool and good for him!! and sabrina's cool but i don't think i'd enjoy or be able to afford her concerts 😭 and that's okay!! maybe my tickets were cheap the time i went to see him bc it was a little more niche <3 AND AAA YES I WISH WE COULD SEE MITSKI TOGETHER!! the entire crowd would be in tears over i bet on losing dogs like that's our national anthem FRFR!!!!

I WAS IMAGINING THE PRETTY LITTLE FAIRY STICK WITH U thank you for tapping my head <33 AND I ALSO READ ABSORB EVERYTHING U TELL ME SO PLEASE YAP AS MUCH AS YOU WANT!! AND DON'T EVEN WORRY ABOUT SMALL FONT IF YOU DON'T WANT TO <3 YOU DO WHATEVER YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEART DESIRES!!! (i am giving ur heart a kiss rn mwah <3) BUT PLEASE THE ILLEGAL JOBS FR SOME PLACES BE CRAZY AND THEY STILL GET AWAY WITH IT!!! BUT YOU GET IT EXACTLY like at the restaurant i often work at we often just have a rotation with no server sections bc it's pretty small (i'd only be forced to do sections when i worked with my manager who made me want to DIE and made me cry once i literally ran out and cried next to a steakhouse across from us) and so basically i just sit people at random tables (i always ask them like "is this table okay?" and i'm not really asking them like girl i have better things to be doing than escorting you around this restaurant trying to see what table tickles your fancy the best. i just ask them so i don't sound super forward like "THIS IS YOUR TABLE SUCK IT UP." yk??) and whoever's turn it is next, they get it so i'll tell them like "table three for two people" so like I REALLY DO NOT CONTROL WHAT CUSTOMERS A SERVER GETS BUT THEY ALL COME AND COMPLAIN AT ME FOR HOW BAD THEIR TABLES ARE (probably bc they're trying to guilt trip me or be passive aggressive) BUT LIKE WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT IT?? I'M NOT PURPOSELY GIVING PEOPLE BAD OR GOOD TABLES LIKE 😭😭 and i'm sure it's even worse at places like olive garden which are way bigger! and you have to work with other hosts and more people so best of luck to your friend she's doing amazing <3 AND YOU GET IT!! LIKE IT'D PROABABLY BE NICE TO HAVE A FIXED SCHEDULE BUT ALSO I COULDN'T DO IT I LOVE BEING SCHEDULED ON RANDOM DAYS EVERY WEEK I NEVER KNOW WHAT'S COMING also the guy who told you you guys needed more workers??? THANK YOU SIR FOR STATING THE OBVIOUS!! I HAD NO IDEA, LET ME, JUST A PERSON WHO WORKS HERE, NOT A MANAGER OR ANYTHING, GO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!! IN FACT, WHY DON'T YOU JUST PUT ON AN APRON AND START HELPING SINCE WE NEED MORE WORKERS!! CONGRATS YOU'RE HIRED!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH MANGO ANON 😭 I ALREADY FEEL SO BURNT OUT I'M REALLY HOPING THINGS WILL CALM DOWN AFTER SEPTEMBER IG (WHEN I STOP WORKING TWO JOBS) OR BY NOVEMEBER AT LEAST (WHEN THEATRE IS OVER) BUT WE'LL SEE </3 i'm sure things will continue to come up but i fr just want to lay down and sleep until 3pm like u did today 😔😔 that sounds so nice </3

AND PLEASE WHY IS YOUR TECH THEATRE STORIES THE SAME AS MINE like i was a run and props kid until my school's musical sophomore year where we got these three boys who all wanted to do tech and we had too many run and props kids so i was like "yk what. let me go to lights so that hopefully u three can be together" which didn't even work out bc one of the boys got thrown into lights with me while the other two were on run and props but were on opposite wings LMAO and so that was my first show doing lights which i did board op for because it was also our last show of the year which was also our like senior who knew everything about lights' last show so after that she GRADUATED and i was the one left to figure everything out 😭😭 and then the year after we lost our senior that knew everything about sound so my senior year was a STRUGGLE omg...bad times. but then i left that department a mess bc i could no longer care. like that lights kid wanted my job so badly? fine, fend for urself bro i'm not teaching u anything (sorry i am spiteful against that kid still LMAO) I ALSO THOUGHT ABOUT DOING TECH IN UNI!! my junior year i was fully planning to go to school to get a bfa for lighting design (new grounds was such a self insert for me LMAO) and my tech director literally pushed me to do it but then i decided i really did not want to be in these toxic stressful environments for the rest of my life 😭 BUT IF I HAD YOU!!! I DEF ACTUALLY WOULDN'T MIND <3 WE WOULD BE THE BEST DUO EVER I KNOW IT!! WE'D BOTH KNOW HOW TO DO OUR JOBS AND THAT WOULD BE LITERALLY GROUND BREAKING!! i mean even just reading ur stories i could feel the stress of like managing EVERYTHING i am so sorry for u mango anon but i am with u completely and from one tech mother to another, thank u for ur services 🫡 (i say tech mother bc WOMEN IN STEM!! in my entire four years of high school our top of the mill techies were always girls until we had this one run and props guy ruin it 🙄 he's actually the same guy who i used to like and the one who my mutual friend tried to get us to go to prom together but like i would NEVER UGHGHGH sorry he's also so frustrating to deal with i need to stop thinking about those times and this is exactly why i didn't actually go into theatre for school LMAOO) BUT YES AAA!! I WILL UPDATE YOU ON THE SUNA TECH SMAU AND I LOVE ALL OF INARIZAKI TOO <33333 haruichi furudate really put his whole budget into that team like please everyone on there is so pretty and beautiful and amazing and pookie shaped i love them sm <33 AND LOWKEY i was feeling like a stage manager reader (probably usually audio head but is stage managing this show) x lights head suna...bc i think that'd just be a crazy dynamic of her lowkey being in a higher position than him and he's just teasing and messing with her the whole time..BUT IDK and ik like theatre works differently in college but THIS IS MY WORLD AND WRITING SO I'LL DO WHAT I WANT!! i also have absolutely nothing actually planned out for the smau so who even knows LMAO THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME TO TAKE MY TIME </3 THERE'S DEFINITELY SO MUCH I NEED TO DO AND TOO LITTLE TIME UEFBIEWIOEGLN

BUT I'M GLAD U HAD THE SAME EXPERIENCES WITH PEOPLE NOT STRUGGLING we did this one horror play (which was SUCH a mess. okay let me just say this. our stage manager full on just gave up like halfway thru and would sit next to me reading vampire books and so same lights kid that kept trying to steal my job decided that it was "UP TO HIM" to save the show HIS WORDS EXACTLY I REMEMBER HEARING ABOUT THIS when literally the entire show was going fine and so basically he was like overthrowing our stage manager and was taking it upon himself to stage manage instead and give cues and just OMG THAT SHOW WAS A MESS BUT ANYWAY) and our main character just would NOT project like she was always cranky the musical we did that year she would just not sing or talk and we were like bro...ur in a musical BUT ANYWAY she wouldn't project we literally ended up hanging a mic and putting a little speaker in the booth so we could hear her bc like it was so important that we heard her lines but we couldn't when we were in a booth behind four windows and a closed door 😭😭

AND HELP YOUR ONLINE STORIES??? I GIGGLED READING ABOUT HIM TEACHING YOU SPANISH AND YOU TEACHING HIM VIET BUT ALSO THE ENTIRE FRIEND GROUP BEING OLDER WHEN YOU WERE A MINOR WAS CRAZY BUT I CAN'T EVEN JUDGE BC THAT WAS ME TOO 😭😭 I FEEL LIKE THAT'S HOW IT ALWAYS IS FOR ME I'M LIKE ALWAYS ONE OF THE YOUNGEST PEOPLE IN A FRIEND GROUP but i cannot imagine what that guy was thinking (i LOVE DISCORD NAMES HOLD ON LET ME GO FIND THE NAME OF MY GUY i think he changed it bc it's froge now...but ANYWAY IT WAS SOMETHING LAME AND SO WAS HIS ROBLOX USER IT WAS PROBABLY SOMETHING LIKE DARK KNIGHT IDK) but i cannot imagine the stress socks was going thru </33 i bet he sent that and then u were like "oh let me go translate it!" and then he was like "OMG SHE DIDN'T RESPOND AND SHE WENT OFFLINE SHE HATES ME" and just flipped and said "jk" bc THERE'S NO WAY THAT WAS JUST A JOKE LIKE U DO NOT TEACH PEOPLE CONFESSIONS LIKE DID THE TAMING OF THE SHREW TEACH U PEOPLE NOTHING THAT IS SO OLD SCHOOL!! (i also never proofread these and just go on tangents and for that, i am sorry </3)

BUT I ALSO DON'T LIKE RAW FISH DW AT ALL!! like they have a hawaiian poke bowl too or something with all raw tuna and i'm like...yeah i'm good actually... and so my only other choice is imitation crab unfortunately 😭 BUT I HOPE YOU FIND SOMETHING GOOD AND LIKE IT!!

MANGO ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND IT WAS SO GOOD TO HEAR FROM YOU <3 I ATE A BAGEL HALFWAY THROUGH THIS AS WELL (you can probably tell when i started eating it bc i was only typing with my left hand and probably didn't use as many crying emojis for a bit LMAO) AND I LOVE TALKING TO YOU!! I LOVE YOU <3 AND I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL!! I LOVE CHICKEN AND RICE AND I WILL MAKE SURE TO TAKE CARE OF MYSELF AS LONG AS YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!! DRINK LOTS OF WATER AND GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR SHIFT TOMORROW!! <3

#IT'S MIDNIGHT NO </3 #i should sleep unfortunately </3 #I WANTED TO WRITE BC IT'S THUNDERING AND RAINING LIKE CRAZY RN #BUT IT'LL ALSO BE NICE TO SLEEP THROUGH IT #I LOVE YOU MANGO ANON!! CANNOT WAIT TO HEAR FROM U NEXT UR SO AMAZING <3 #answers <3 #mango anon <3

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