#i believe this is a curtain rod

[fisherrprince]

I was like nah im doing ok without my blackout curtain but catch me waking up at 7:15 when the sun rises every day cold out of my mind because the window is radiating frost through the blinds,

[official-susie-deltarune]

sometimes there are gonna be moments in your life where you fuck up and the solution you need to fix it is just a little out of reach.

so instead you tape cardboard to your windows.

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[dollyfiles]

you are stalker!rafe’s new obsession

cw: dark!rafe, stalking, being rafe’s prey, obsession, explicit themes, violence, mentions of murder, knifes, blood, killing, inspired by the song “tag, you’re it.” by melanie martinez

you always felt eyes on you. it started as an unease, a fleeting paranoia that maybe someone was watching. the first time you noticed it was in the parking lot of your favorite café. you’d been fumbling with your keys when you felt it, that slow, suffocating pressure of being watched. but when you turned around, the only thing behind you was the dim light of the streetlamp and the empty asphalt.

that night, you convinced yourself that you were imagining things. but then the weird notes started. small, carefully folded pieces of paper left under your windshield wiper. the handwriting was neat but strangely intimate, like someone whispering a secret in your ear.

“red looks good on you.”

“you shouldn’t walk alone at night.”

“i see you, sweetheart.”

your stomach twisted every time you found one. your friends laughed it off, saying ‘it’s probably some dumb guy with a crush’ or ‘creepy, but harmless.’ but you knew better. and then there he was…

rafe cameron. he liked watching you. you barely knew him, but that didn’t stop him from showing up everywhere you went. you looked soft. delicate. the kind of girl who smiled at strangers and said thank you too much. the kind of girl who had no idea how dangerous the world could be.

he wondered how you’d look when you were afraid. the thought alone sent a slow, satisfied shiver down his spine. it started small. a glance here, a lingering stare there. following you, just to see if you’d notice. but you never did. not at first. so, he pushed further.

one night, you woke up gasping. there was a quiet but striking sound right outside your window. your heart pounded as you reached for your phone, hands shaking. peeling back the curtain just a bit, you saw him. standing beneath the streetlamp, staring at your window. a slow grin curled across his face as he saw you hiding there, watching. you shut the curtain so fast it nearly ripped off the rod. ‘good’ he thought. the fear suited you.

the next morning, you found a fresh note tucked into your mailbox.“run, little rabbit.” your hands shook as you crumpled it, tightness building in your throat. you immediately told your friends. they said you were overreacting. you then told the police. they told you they couldn’t do much without proof. and that was the worst part. no one believed you. no one except rafe. and he loved that. but the real fun started when he got inside..

the first time, he didn’t take anything. didn’t break anything. just stood in your room, breathing in the scent of you, that sweet, floral and innocent scent. a single red rose was placed on your pillow one evening when you came home late. your perfume bottle left half-empty even though you hadn’t used it in days. rafe wanted you to know he’d been there. that he could reach you whenever he wanted, in the safety of your home. that you were his.

on the night he finally decided to take you, it rained. thunder rumbled in the distance as he stood outside your apartment, watching the glow of your bedroom window. you were in there. safe and warm. a click of the lock and the back door swung open with ease. you’d been good about locking it the last few nights. he wondered if you’d slipped up or if you were getting too comfortable.

either way, it didn’t matter. rafe stepped inside, his pulse steady, movements slow. he didn’t rush. didn’t make a sound. you were in the living room, curled up on the couch, phone in your hand. you were texting someone, he could see the soft glow of the screen lighting up your face. you had no idea he was right there.

he let the seconds stretch, savoring the moment. then, finally, he knocked. soft at first. then harder and persistent. your stomach dropped. for a long, delicious moment, silence stretched between you. he could picture your heartbeat picking up, that sweet little pulse hammering in your throat.

you didn’t react at first. smart girl. but it was too late. a low chuckle echoed from the dark hallway. you froze, pulling your knees to your chest. "you hide like a scared little rabbit," rafe’s voice drawled from the shadows. he was inside.

you immediately bolted. ripping the kitchen drawer open, you snatched the first knife your fingers touched, your pulse a wild beat in your ears. then his dark figure stepped forward. he was drenched from the storm, his shirt clinging to his chest, his blue eyes locked onto you like you were prey. he moved slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the moment.

"y/n," he murmured, tilting his head. "you weren't supposed to run yet.” your grip on the knife tightened, “get out." you screamed. his smirk deepened, amused. "now, why would i do that?" the air in the room thickened. then, your phone rang. the shrill sound shattered the tension, and in that split second, you lunged.

the knife sliced through the air, but rafe was faster. he caught your wrist mid-swing, twisting it until the blade clattered to the floor. you gasped in pain. you made it too easy. "you fight, too?" his breath was warm against your ear as he yanked you close, his grip rough, "i like that." you thrashed, kicking at him, but he barely flinched. the phone kept ringing while you screamed.

"you’re making this way more fun than i expected," he murmured, like this was a game. and you were his favorite new toy. your stomach lurched. you couldn't let him win. your eyes darted around the kitchen, searching and then your eyes caught it. the kettle. still full from when you’d boiled water earlier.

with one desperate motion, you threw yourself forward, stretching your free arm as far as it would go, until your fingers closed around the kettle's handle. and then you swung. rafe screamed. the sting of boiling water shot through him. and his grip loosened just enough.

you wrenched free, diving for the knife. your fingers closed around the handle, and before you could think twice, before you could even hesitate, uou swung it. a flash of silver.

cold steel buried into his stomach. his breath hitched. the world around him tilted. his hands shot to the knife, warmth spreading beneath his fingertips, the sting sharp, alive. and then he looked at you. you were panting and wide-eyed. but not terrified, no, this was something else entirely.

anger. power. something dark, something almost hungry. rafe’s lips twitched, his vision going hazy, but he still grinned. you were finally playing the game. you took a step closer, your breath shaky but your grip on the knife solid. "tag," you whispered. and then you twisted it. "you’re it," you spat lastly.

a guttural sound escaped him, half groan, half laughter. fuck. he felt it deep, he felt it all too deep. the blade cutting through his flesh, the fire spreading through his veins, the sharp edge of death curling around him like a lover. god, you were perfect.

his vision began to darken at the edges, but he was still grinning, teeth red with blood. his hand weakly reached for you, brushing your wrist, smearing crimson against your skin. "shit," he rasped, his voice slurred, "you finally get it, don’t ya’?” you yanked the knife free, and he choked, body collapsing to the floor.

everything felt distant, fading. but not before he caught one last glimpse of you standing over him, fierce, wild and untouchable. rafe had never wanted you more. and as the world went black, the last thought that curled through his sick mind was simple. you were finally his kind of dangerous.

a/n: something a lil different but im actually very happy with this !!

[rheeblogs]

★ — HELP WANTED

★ — pairing : canon/contractor!abby anderson x fem!reader

★ — as a new homeowner, paying full price to get a remodel on things was so expensive. luckily abby anderson gave pretty faces major discounts.

★ — warnings : sexual content

🔖 : @thaatdigitaldiary @d3arapril @rosemariiaa @ashortyluvsports

you weren’t much of a handyman—or handywoman, for that matter. when you moved into your new house, you quickly realized that the charm of its old bones came with a laundry list of things that needed fixing: a leaky faucet, creaky doors, shelves that threatened to collapse if you so much as looked at them.

that’s how you met abby anderson.

the first time you saw her, she was unloading a truck across the street, all lean muscles and work boots, her blonde braid sticking out from under a baseball cap. you didn’t think much of it at first, too busy trying to wrestle a box through your own front door. but when you dropped it with a loud thud, she appeared out of nowhere.

“you need a hand?”

her voice was warm, slightly teasing, and when you looked up, you were momentarily struck by her presence. abby was… well, extremely beautiful. sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a crooked smile that could melt steel.

——

after helping you with the box, abby quickly learned about your diy incompetence.

“so,” she said a few days later, leaning against the doorframe as you struggled to fix a curtain rod. “you always this good with tools, or am i just special enough to witness it?”

you turned, rolling your eyes at her smirk. “yeah, yeah, laugh it up. at least i’m trying.”

she chuckled, her gaze dropping to the small pile of mismatched screws and nails at your feet. “tell you what—how about i come by this weekend and help you out? i’m pretty handy, if i do say so myself.”

you hesitated, but the truth was you needed the help. “are you sure? i don’t wanna intrude.”

“darlin’,” she said, stepping closer and giving you a lopsided grin. “it’d be my pleasure.”

——

that sunday, abby showed up in a tank top and work pants, a toolbox slung over one shoulder. she whistled low when you opened the door.

“well, look at you,” she said, her eyes dragging over the black cropped tank you had on, showing off the bold tattoo on your right shoulder. “you dress up for me?”

you blushed, shaking your head. “you wish.”

“maybe i do,” she replied, her voice dropping slightly as she brushed past you, her shoulder grazing yours.

the day passed with abby fixing things at lightning speed while you hovered nearby, asking questions and offering her water or snacks. she made it impossible to concentrate, the way her muscles flexed when she tightened screws or hammered nails.

at one point, she caught you staring.

“enjoyin’ the view, ma’am?” she asked, smirking as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

you stammered, “i—i was just tryna’ make sure you were doin’ it right, that’s all.”

“uh-huh.” she leaned closer, her voice dipping into something more intimate. “if you’ve got any other… inspections in mind, let me know.”

your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face.

——

by the time the sun set, abby had fixed more in one day than you thought possible. the two of you were sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by tools and scraps, laughing about the crooked shelf you had tried to install before she arrived.

“i can’t believe you thought duct tape would hold that up,” she teased, nudging you with her knee.

“look, desperate times, desperate measures,” you defended, shaking your head. “besides, you’re the expert. that’s why i have you now.”

her smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded. “yeah,” she said quietly. “you do.”

the air between you shifted, tension crackling like a live wire. abby’s gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt your breath catch.

“i—“ you started, but the words got stuck in your throat when abby reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“you’re something else, y’know that?” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “been drivin’ me crazy all day.”

your heart hammered in your chest. “abby…”

“tell me to stop,” she said, her forehead nearly touching yours now. “i will. just say the word.”

instead of answering, you closed the gap, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that was so soft at first but quickly deepened. abby’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as the tension of the day finally snapped.

when you pulled back, breathless, she smirked. “so… does this mean i’m gettin’ that ‘thank-you’ dinner you promised?”

you laughed, tugging her back in. “dinner can wait.”

——

abby had you sprawled against your bed, the same bed that she fixed hours earlier. your bra was thrown across the room, landing on the vanity she just remodeled.

“fuckin’ beautiful, i fuckin’ knew it,” she says, looking at you like prey, and you can feel yourself salivating at the way her muscles bulge when she manhandles you. “spread those legs, sweetheart, lemme’ see you.”

you spread yourself to abby’s liking, your pants and panties discarded on your rug, leaving you fully bare in front of your next-door-neighbor.

her mouth damn near waters at the sight, your folds glistening in slick, simply because she talks to you nice. abby eats that shit up, making sure the neighborhood knows she does this to you.

“let me in, baby.” she says, as her fingers start pumping in and out of your pussy, the squelching noise driving her batshit crazy. she’s on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “pussy’s talkin’ to me, isn’t she?” she says, inserting another finger inside of you.

“shitttt, abby, don’t talk like that.” you whimper, causing abby’s pace to speed up when she hits that sweet spot inside of you, causing your moans to grow louder and louder.

“shh… gotta be quiet sweetheart, you just got here—you want the neighbors to know my name already?” she whispers against your skin, leaving messy kisses along your tits.

she’s forcing you to grind into her fingers, the show your giving alone making her boxers a soaked mess.

“p—please, abby…” you pant, your head spinning and baby hairs sticking to your forehead.

“i’ll give it to ya’ sweet girl, always so fuckin’ patient, yeah?” abby’s breath starts to hitch as you dig your nails into her back, her chest clad with a black sports bra.

“gonna… abby please, i’m so close—,” you manage to let out, and abby takes this as a signal to let you finish. she holds your body down, pumping at lightning speed, listening to your moans grow and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“c’mon sweetheart, all over my fingers.” your stomach snaps, and sudden flow rushes through your body and right onto abby’s digits. you were shaking, abby’s thick fingers leaving you in a trance, all of her handy work being put to use.

“jesus, abby. you do this to all your new neighbors?” you say, attempting to catch your breath.

“nah, just you honey.”

——

the night stretched on, filled with whispered laughs and stolen kisses, and for once, you were thankful for all the broken things that had brought her to your door.

[mochinek0]

In Sickness and in Health

"Damian, I need you to work with the new student on this project." his history teacher stated.

"What new student?" the young Wayne questioned.

'There's no one new here. Has he finally lost it?'

"Stay after class, please." they replied.

Damian simply nodded.

'At least if the new person is all in his head, I can work by myself.'

"The new student isn't here today as she's sick. They're also a transfer student." The teacher spoke, "Here is her address."

"You want me to go there and become ill?" Damian speculated.

"Not at all, Mr. Wayne. All I am asking is that you, at least, speak to her about the project." the teacher sighed, "She'll know better than anyone how long she'll be absent. Get her to write a note saying, I don't know, she gives you full control on the project or something. I'll deal with it from there."

"I can do that." Damian accepted.

'At least I can still work by myself.'

Damian looked down at the address in his hand an then back at the seamstress shop. Confused, the young Wayne entered the store and looked around for someone his own age.

"Can I help you?" asked an elderly lady.

"I was given this address for a classmate of mine." Damian explained, "I believe they mixed it up. Excuse me."

"Are you looking for Marinette?" they questioned.

'Marinette? Is that her name? Not American; he did mention they were a transfer student.'

"Yes." he answered, still unsure.

"Go through the blue curtain in the far back." the lady smiled, "There's a set of stairs that will take you to the apartment above the store."

Damian nodded and went to the back of the store. There was blue cloth hung up on a shower rod that parted slightly.

'A door would be better suited.'

Damian walked up the stairs to the second story and found single door. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. The door opened and he was shocked. There in the doorway was a girl with blue hair, up to his chest. She was wearing what seemed to be pajamas, had a blanket draped over her shoulders, a face mask, and a cooling cloth attached to her forehead.

'She is obviously seriously ill. How did she open the door? Why didn’t anyone else open it for her?'

"Who are you?" she questioned, hoarsely.

"Damian Wayne." he declared, "I was told to talk to you about a history project for school."

She moved away from the door and went stright to the kitchen.

"Sit anywhere you want. I haven't sat in the living room in three days. I'd offer you a beverage, but I don't want to get you sick and asking you to get it yourself, seems rude." the girl spoke.

'Polite; unexpected.'

"What are you doing?" Damian questioned, as he watched her stir a pot.

"Making soup for the week." Marinette answered.

"So, I should not expect you to return this week." he suggested.

"I usually eat soup when I'm sick and for the following days, to keep my immune system cleansed." she explained, "So, history? Leave me the details and I'll work on it."

"Mr. Hayes suggested you could write a note putting me in charge." Damian spoke.

"I can work, Damian." Mari remarked, "I don't need you coddling me because I'm sick."

'Coddle! I-The last thing I would do is….coddle her!'

Damian snapped, "I am giving you a way out! Get your rest and I will do it completely!"

"I'm on bedrest and as you can see, I'm functional." she growled back.

Marinette began to cough heavidly, enough to make her grip the kitchen counter. Damian watched as her breaths became labored, as if she had trouble inhaling.

'She calls this functional?'

Marinette grabbed a mug and poured hot water from a near by kettle. Damian watched as she spooned a small amount of tea leaves into a container and place it in the mug.

'Peppermint? She should try lemon, ginger, something citrus.'

"When are your parents getting back?" Damian asked, not moving from the doorway.

"I'm emancipated." she smiled.

'She's by herself?'

Damian looked around and noticed a small table with one chair. The living room had enough to seat up to three guests. There was also one door to the left, behind the living room.

"Leave the form and an email or something so I can send you my portion." Marinette called out, "If you don't like it, I can work in my room and you can work from out here."

Damian took out a pen and quickly wrote down his email at the top of the paper.

"I'll be back, tomorrow." he stated, leaving the apartment.

'Why is she so stubborn? She needs to rest. The simplest solution would be for her to rest this week while I work alone. What is she trying to accomplish?'

The moment she opened the door, Damian stared at Marinette annoyed. She had showed recently, but her hair was still wet. At the very least, she was wearing different clothes.

He scowled, "Where is the bathroom?"

"Oh, in my room, on your left." Marinette pointed out.

'Guess he really needed to go.'

Damian came back with a towel and threw it over her head, without notice. He quickly began to rub her head to get the moisture out.

"You're going to get worse with you hair looking like a wet mop." Damian stated, "Dry it completely."

Marinette remained silent and still. Damian stopped his movements.

"Marinette?" he asked, moving to face her.

'Shit!'

Marinette's eyes were wide and she was practially hyperventilating. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.

'She does not handle physical contact well. Is she going to be okay at school?'

Damian kneeled in front of her and showed his hands were raised in front of him.

"My apologies." Damian whispered, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Damian reached out and dragged his bag, next to the couch. He pulled out a small cylinder.

"I brought you some tea leaves. Citrus help you recover from illness." he began, "I don't believe peppermint will work." as he handed her the container.

Marinette took it and looked at it. She opened it and sniffed the tea leaves. There was lemon, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. There was some other stuff she couldn't make out.

"You......made this?" Marinette questioned.

'Why would he give this to me?'

Damian remained silent, but nodded. He didn't think she would noticed he took his time to make her something.

"I make my own teas." he replied.

Mari smiled, "Thank you."

Damian watched as her expression softened. She got up from her seat, letting the towel fall from her head, and quickly began to get things ready to brew the tea. Once it was finished brewing, she took a sip.

"It’s delicious, Damian!" Mari smiled, happily, "Maybe I should go to you for all of my teas."

Before he could respond, Marinette took her tea and went into her room. Damian picked up his things and saw she had gotten comfortable in her bed with her laptop on a tray.

"Were we not working over there?" he questioned.

"I don't want to get you sick." Marinette replied, "Besides, there's only one chair. I'll just email you-"

Damian left the room and returned with the chair from her kitchen table.

"I don't get sick, easily." Damian declared, setting the chair down a few feet from her bed, "h quicker we finish this, the more you can rest."

Marinette worked silently, sipping on the tea Damian had brought her. After an hour, Damian packed up his thing, declaring he'd return the next day.

This time, when Marinette opened the door, he could tell she was moving much more sluggish.

'She got worse! She's pushing herself for me. Damn her stubbornness!'

Damian quickly picked her up in his arms.

"You're-" she began.

"If I get sick, I will blame you later." Damian claimed.

"Sorry." Mari whispered.

Damian placed her back in her bed. He quickly rushed to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit or at least, a thermometer. Once he found it, he brought it back and held it out. Mairnette looked at it, in dissapointment.

"Use it." he demanded.

Marinette shoved it in her mouth and waited. The quick beeping notified them both something was wrong. Mari took it out of her mouth n tried to hide it. Damian was able to grab it with ease.

'102.5'

"I'm fine." Marinette declared.

"You are far from fine." Damian stated.

Damian took the thermometer to the bathroom and washed it, as well as his hands. When he returned, he found Marinette fast asleep. He found a cooling pad near by and placed it on her head. Damian remember a small cloth by the sink and wet it. He quickly cooled off her arms, her neck, and her legs, before covering her up. Damian took out a sticky note and wrote down his number.

Marinette woke up to the room being dark.

"Damian?" she called out.

She grabbed her phone and saw it was close to two in the morning. She set her phone down and felt a paper.

'Sticky note?'

She turned on the flashlight on her phone and looked at the note: Call me if you worsen-Damian.

'Aw. He's really sweet. I feel so bad for falling asleep on him.'

Marinette stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet and took her temperature. It read 99.2; it was the best it had been all week. She washed the thermometer and took some medicine. After, she made more of Damian's tea.

'Gonna need it.'

Damian arrived back from patrol to find an email from Mari.

'I thought I told her to call me if she got worse, not email me!'

He opened it in a panic and found it was her completed work for the assignment. Damian looked at the time. It was now three in the morning and she had sent it thirty minutes ago. He grabbed his phone and opened his contacts. Then, he froze.

'I don’t have her number! Fuck!'

Damian went over the next day and was surprised to see her more active. Marinette had answered the door happily and was dressed in white tank top, pink shorts, and slippers. She wasn't even using a blanket to keep herself warm.

"Damian!" She smiled, "Hey, did you get my email?"

"I did." he answered.

"Is everything okay?" Mari asked, "I didn't think I'd see you today."

"Why did you send it so late or early, I should say." Damain questioned.

"It was when I woke up." Marinette answered, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I decided it was best to work on it, while I had a clear head. I'm feeling a lot better, so I should be able to see you at school tomorrow. I'm sure it was all thanks to your tea."

Damian nodded and held out his phone for her to grab. Marinette looked at it confused, but took it.

"I planned on yelling at you, for being up so late, but I didn't have you number." the young Wayne stated.

Marinette giggled, "And I should give it to you, why?"

Damian remained silent. He didn't think she would refuse to give her number to him.

"In case we are paired up again." he quickly spoke.

Mari added her contact information and handed it back.

"Sick Girl?" he questioned.

"So you know it's me." Mari answered.

He hated how right she was. It was likely that if she had entered her name, he would have forgotten it in a week and deleted it.

"Do you want to come in or was that all?" she asked.

"That was all." he said and quickly left.

Marinette closed the door an giggled.

'He's like a stray cat that came to say hi.'

Damian sat in class and kept his eyes on the door. Marinette hadn't walked in, yet, and it was almost time for the bell to ring.

'Is she still sick? Did her fever come back? I should have called her this morning to make sure she was feeling fine.'

The bell rang breaking him from his thoughts and then, she rushed in.

'Marinette.'

"Late." their teacher declared, "I will forgive you, this time, since you have been sick, Miss Duapin-Cheng."

Marinette nodded her head. It was finally time for history class and it was so different to see her in uniform. Damian could admit he more use to seeing her in pajamas or shorts, with her blanket curled around her. He was even use to her falling asleep, but some how the uniform felt less personal. He hated it. Damian watched carefully over Marinette. He had to make sure she was completely better. Her damn stubbornness left him worried about her pretending to feel better for his sake. Then, he saw it; the tense smile on her face. She was surrounded by their peers. It reminded him of the smiles his brothers' gave at parties. Damian walked over and grabbed her wrist.

"We need to talk about the project since you have been absent." he declared.

"Oh, okay." Marinette answered, as he pulled her away from everyone else.

"He could have been nicer."

"It's Wayne. When is he ever nice?"

"Lucky bitch."

"I can’t believe she was his partner."

"He probably did it himself, already."

"Yeah. He's just gonna give her a copy and put her name on it."

"I can’t believe he touched her."

"True."

"Better than him yelling at us to move or scram, again."

Marinette frowned as she heard what they said about Damian. That wasn't the Damian she knew.

"Thank you." Marinette whispered, once they were far enough.

Damian looked at her questioningly.

"For rescuing me." she answered.

"You appeared uncomfortable." the young Wayne spoke, " I was uncertain how you would react if one of them touched you. I understand if I made you uncomfortable, as well. My apologies for forcing you. Next time, tell them to leave."

"I'm not good at dealing with people; not anymore." Mari declared, "Besides, they should forget about me soon. I'm still 'new' in their eyes. I'm not trying to gain anything by talking to them. I don’t want to get to know them."

"I thought you weren't coming." Damian spoke, changing the subject.

"Huh?" she asked, confused, "I told you I was coming today."

"You were late." he growled.

"Oh." Marinette winced, "Uh….I have a feeling I will be in detention a lot."

Damian stopped and turned to her, waiting for an explanation.

"I have always been late to school, even when it was across from my house." she stated.

Damian sighed, "I'll pick you up in the mornings."

"No!" she cried out.

"Why?" he demanded, "Is that an issue? I have been to your place before, have I not?"

"I'm not a morning person." Mari replied, looking down.

He sighed again, "My brother isn't either, unless he has had coffee. I can bring you some." making a mental note to steal Tim's coffee in the morning from now on.

"Really?" Mari questioned, perking up.

"You better, at least, be dressed." Damian retorted.

"Pajamas count as being dressed, right?" she squeaked.

Damian glared at her, "Why would you still be in pajamas?"

"I'm not a morning person!" Marinette glared back, "I work late and-"

"The shop keeps you that busy?" he questioned.

"Oh." Marinette spoke, "No. I help in the shop sometimes, but that's not my job. I do commissions. She asks me to help some times, but she's going to let me use the sewing machine for free until I can buy one."

"How….long do your commissions take?" he sighed.

"Depends who it's for. If it's for my uncle, I tend to work three weeks straight. It also depends on the pay and timeline. If he called me right now and asked for something in six months, I wouldn't worry unless things began to pile up. It could also be one of my aunties."

'What the fuck is with her family? No wonder why she is emancipated! I can't believe they would work her that hard.'

"You're moving into the manor." Damian declared, "I'll even get you a new sewing machine."

"I am not!" she cried out, "I barely know you! All I know is you name and you make tea!"

"At this rate, I'll have to get you dressed and drag you to school!" Damian cried back.

"Who the fuck made you my babysitter?" Marinette shouted.

"Someone should be." he huffed, "You obviously need someone to take care of you. I don’t see why it shouldn't be me!"

Marinette squeaked and turned red. Realizing what he said, so did Damian.

The teacher watched as Damian took Marinette aside to talk. He was well aware that their assignment had been turned in three days ago. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was the closest he had ever seen Damian be comfortable around anyone. He also was aware of Marinette's past school and being bullied.

'I knew getting them to talk would be a good thing.'

DAMINETTE TAGLIST: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb

TAGLIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog

[storiesofsvu]

The View

Alex Cabot x reader Warnings: language, minor teasing, smut eluded to. This was requested, i think on anon, I'm sure it isn't exactly what you wanted/expected but it's what came from the prompt lol. There will be no part two. A little bit over a drabble

Alex awoke to the sound of the shower dial squeaking, the water rushing from the showerhead slowing from a roar to a slow drip before she heard the curtain rings clanking against the rod. She rolled over to face the bathroom, avoiding the ray of sun streaming directly across her eyeline as she stretched out her body with a soft hum. Her legs shifted under the blankets, high count sheets silky against her naked skin, body slowly awakening to the delicious soreness thanks to the previous nights activities. She glanced at the clock, nearly surprised that you hadn’t decided to wake her to join you in the shower, it was later than she normally slept so she guessed she must have needed the sleep.

The curtain fluttered in the morning breeze, a gust of warm air flowing through the room and Alex couldn’t help the corners of her mouth curving up as it brushed against her bare back and she hugged your pillow tighter, rolling onto her stomach. The scent of your perfume drifted into her senses and her eyes fell shut at the memories she associated with the smell. From the other side of the wall she could hear you quietly humming to yourself, a few words slipping out of your lips every so often and she could picture you swaying your hips to the tune as you worked through your skincare routine. Alex felt the gust of warmth, the humidity of the steam bursting through the room when you opened the door to the bathroom, exiting wrapped only in a towel. Her eyes cracked open just a tad to see you, a spark firing through her body as her eyes traced over yours.

Your towel left little to the imagination, barely long enough to cover your ass, the sides creeping open every time you took a step to expose your thigh. Your hair was pulled up off your face, an attempt to keep it dry while you showered, but she could still see a few strands that had managed to escape, dangling in front of your ears, and the baby hairs at the back of your neck, plastered to your damp skin. More than that she could see a few water droplets trailing down your neck, dripping across your collarbone and her lips formed a smirk as two of them collected on the purple mark in that exact spot she’d left the previous night. You were completely oblivious to her peeping as you crossed through the room, pulling open your dresser to flit through bra and underwear choices for the day, still humming the same tune from earlier. She couldn’t quite see what set you chose from the drawer before you slid it shut, rubbing the towel a little more firmly across your skin before you let it drop, tossing it in the direction of the hamper.

Alex’s eyes roamed over your body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips at both memories of the past and the desire building within her, ideas beginning to spark through her brain of what she wanted to do to you. She admired the curve of your ass as you bent over to step into your panties and this time when a breeze came through the window she couldn’t help but shiver, letting out a small noise. She caught your attention and you turned to face her as you pulled the pale blue lace into place, letting the thong snap against your skin before placing your hands on your hips.

“Can I help you counsellor?” You asked with a smirk on your lips while you watched her gaze settle on your bare chest, pupils dilating as she shifted under the sheets.

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view.” She replied with her own devilish grin and you chuckled softly.

“Well…” you made a point of doing a slow full turn, letting her take in every inch of your exposed skin, “wish I could say I would put on a show for you, but that usually involves taking off my clothes.”

“Believe me, this is just as good.” Alex’s cheeks tinged pink at the admission and she patted down the duvet to make sure she could see you properly, the grin still on your lips as you picked up the bra.

You slid it up your arms, expertly putting it on, giving Alex an extra little shimmy for your tits to settle in the cups, pushed up a little higher than normal. Your hands raised to your hair, removing the clip and letting it cascade over your shoulders as you shook it out, doing another slow turn for your girlfriend. The corner of your lips curved up at the happy hum she made, the noise almost turning into a growl as you turned to face her again, this time prowling toward the bed.

“Did you know that’s my favourite set of yours?” She asked, pushing herself up to sitting on the bed, letting the duvet fall from her body, no doubt in an attempt to distract you.

“I do now.” You smiled softly, dropping onto the bed to straddle her lap, your hands coming to cup her cheeks.

“And now….” Her fingers ghosted up your sides, beginning to toy with the clasp, “you’re going to let me take it off of you, right?”

Leaning in, your lips brushed against hers before you laughed softly, “absolutely not.”

“Tease.” She murmured back, surging forward for another kiss.

“We’re meeting Liz for lunch in an hour and you still need to shower.” Your lips pressed a kiss just below her ear, “but in the time being you can keep thinking about all the naughty things you want to do to me and how badly you want to rip this lingerie off my body.” You nipped at her earlobe and she groaned.

“Now you’re just being unfair.”

“You’re the one who kept us up too late last night when you knew we had semi early plans.”

“So I have to schedule our morning sex in now?” She asked with a grin, her blue eyes gazing up at you and you laughed, shifting off her lap to stand but not before cupping her chin and kissing her once more.

“I suppose so.” You sauntered back toward the wardrobe, “now are you going to waste more time watching me get dressed or are you going to jump in the shower and make sure we aren’t late?”

Alex dramatically threw herself back onto the bed with a groan before rolling to the edge of it, “I’ll get in the shower… we can’t leave Liz waiting after all.”

She let out a playful shriek when your arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush to you and you peppered her bare shoulders and neck with kisses, “I’ll make it up to you tonight, promise.”

“Oh I know you will.” With one last grin, her eyes twinkling with a sense of adoration and maybe even more naughtiness, she finally disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you to get fully dressed, continuing to dance along to the melody in your head.

__________________

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[thevoidstaredback]

Part 10

Going back to Wayne Manor was like taking a deep breath of stale, rotten air. Honestly, Danny would much rather be back in the Penitentiary than anywhere near Wayne Manor, but Jason didn't want to be on Arkham Island anymore, so they had to go back. Besides, he didn't want anyone else to see him for the rest of the summer.

"Master Jason," Alfred greeted them at the door, "Master Danny. I expect you had an interesting lunch?"

Jason shook his head. "Nope. Completely mediocre."

"For nearly five hours?"

"Yep."

"And your absence when an attack on a Bat Burger happened while you were undoubtedly in the area?"

Jason cringed back a bit. "Would you believe if I said we weren't in the building?"

Alfred hummed. "Perhaps if you hadn't phrased it like that." He turned on his heel, walking to the kitchen. "I'll let the others know you two have returned unharmed, if a little chilly. Dinner will be served soon. Can I assume you'll be joining us tonight, Master Danny?"

Danny shook his head. "I don't want to see anyone."

"A shame," Alfred tutted, "Go clean yourselves up. You look like you just escaped from Arkham."

Danny and Jason looked at each other as soon as Alfred had disappeared.

"How the hell does he know that?" Danny demanded.

Jason shrugged. "I've been tryin' to figure that out for years."

Huffing, Danny marched his way up the stairs and to the room he'd been staying in. Jason was behind him, though he went further down the hall to his own room.

"You sure you don't wanna eat with everyone?" Jason called before either of them entered their rooms.

Danny didn't answer, choosing instead to walk straight through the pine door and lock it from the inside. He ignored The sigh he heard Jason heave.

The first thing he noticed was that someone had been in his room in the last few hours. Nothing was obviously disturbed, and all of the less than mediocre traps were undisturbed, but his door had been unlocked and the ceiling light was still ever so slightly warm. So they'd been in his room within the past hour.

It wasn't Alfred. It didn't smell like tea and shotgun shells. Jason's scent of old books and gunpowder was lingering, but that's because Danny had spent most of the day with him. He hadn't been around any other the others, so the only downside was that he couldn't place the smell to a person.

Whoever it was wasn't in there anymore. Beyond that, and making sure nothing was missing or added in, he didn't really care.

He swept for bugs.

There was a single camera just above the curtain rods, a microphone with it. Danny shook his head but didn't otherwise do anything. Electronics didn't work around him unless he wanted them to, so he wasn't too worried, though he'd probably get rid of it sooner rather than later.

He opted to shower. The water pressure was awesome, and the water was able to get a lot colder than he thought, though he'd never complain about a good, cold shower.

While the closet was nice, Danny decided to find a new hiding spot. Everyone would look for him in the room they expected him to be in, so, when he heard Jason go down for dinner, he left to go hide in Jason's room.

There were so many books in there that he almost thought it was a library instead of a bedroom. He had to look really hard to find the bed, which was settled in a corner next to the windows. Overall, the basic layout was the same as the one he'd been given, so he took a guess and opened one of the two doors and found the closet. Just as he hopped, there was just enough room for him to hide out on the top shelf.

Barely an hour later, Alfred came into the room. "Master Danny," he called softly, "The others are all heading down to the Batcave, if you'd like to join them. They'd like to invite you to patrol with them tonight."

Danny was only a bit surprised the butler knew where he was. He didn't respond.

"Very well. In case you'd like to listen in, I'll leave a comm on the bookshelf next to the closet door on the third shelf from the top." After a moment, he was gone.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed to himself. He didn't need to listen in. Why would he? It's not like they needed him no one ever needed him he'd be any use to them even if he did go out. He had his team, they had theirs. Getting their wires crossed like this was only going to mess them up in the field.

He doesn't care about these guys. None of them were there to help him when he needed it. None of them where there to stop Deathstroke or Talia or Ra's from hurting him. He was just here because Talia said he had to be. He was only here in case Damian got hurt. That's why he was created in the first place.

Part 12

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Who doesn't love a perfectly preserved time capsule? This 1968 beauty in Rockford, IL is like stepping back in time. 4bds, 4ba, $450K.

The small entrance has tiled flooring to protect the carpet that runs all through the house.

Why is it always green? This was a dramatic home when it was new- stone fireplace, sunken living room, and wrought iron railings were the height of fashion.

The living area is huge. Note the large stone bench matching the fireplace and the cornice boards that discreetly hide the unsightly curtain rods.

The fireplace stone continues and has a huge mirror. In the corner is shelving and 2 steps up to the dining room.

The dining room has dated curtains that the buyer will inherit. I love the kitty-corner table. That was a common placement in mid-century style.

Next comes the kitchen. Actually, they must've updated it b/c I don't think that 2-tone cabinets were a thing yet. But, the ditzy, small, busy print of the wallpaper with matching shades was definitely the style. Note the original avocado dishwasher and dust shelving above the upper cabinetry, that was later replaced by soffits.

Wait a minute, I'm seeing props here- there's a new dishwasher and new ovens, but they kept the old avocado ones. I wonder if they work or, if it's just nostalgia. There are also 2 cooktops. Wow, they really preserved everything.

Look at the green glass.

Large laundry room off the kitchen.

Oh, look, an avocado washer/dryer set. This is amazing. And, look at the old sink. I hope someone who loves it, buys it, b/c it was so lovingly cared for.

Nice large everyday dining area has a pony wall separating the family room. So much green everywhere. I wonder if this set came that way or if they painted it.

Another stone fireplace flanked by shelving. Knotty pine walls, and folding shutter doors- all fashions of the past. I can't believe that they have the Colonial furniture that was so popular at the time. Even though it was all the rage, you don't see it around anymore. According to the listing, there is going to be an estate sale, so this furniture will be available.

The primary bedroom is pretty big. Geez, there's carpeting everywhere and some of it is looking gnarly.

It has an en-suite, which is unusual. Look at that fancy cabinet. Green laminate counter, too.

This bedroom is also pretty big. Look at the consummate girl's white bedroom furniture of the mid-century.

The den has a big old map probably with countries that don' t even exist anymore.

More bedrooms on the 2nd fl.

Oh, look at that! A hope chest! They were popular for a teenage girl to receive as a gift. Then, she would put in blankets, etc., in the hopes of one day getting married and using them. I can't get over the historic furniture in this place.

And, then they've got a big family room up here. Wow, this house has so much furniture and tchotchkes.

Winter? No problem. Just set the lawn furniture up in the basement.

There's also a finished part of the basement. This is a craft room, and there is also a canning room.

Look at the antique freezer on the right. This place is a museum.

This part of the basement isn't finished even though it has a brick fireplace. No matter, they still used it as a family room, anyway.

According to the listing, this is a 2 car garage, called a "cottage garage," b/c I guess it looks like a residence.

This cool log cabin on the property is used as a playhouse, according to the listing.

Yeah, but look at it, it's really a residence.

There's a lot of land, 3.50 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6151-Newburg-Rd-Rockford-IL-61108/5537324_zpid/

[amoebadue]

Knight in Shining Armor

Contains/TW: swearing, mentions of suicide, mentions of abuse, major character death, jealousy, obsessive tendencies, death of loved ones, yearning, Not canon compliant, Jason can be a real jerk sometimes, probably OOC but it’s fanfiction so it’s good enough I guess, + anything else I missed.

Not proofread

Word Count: 8534

There were three facts about Jason Todd that you were sure of. 1, Jason Todd has lived in the apartment across from you for as long as you’ve known. 2, Jason Todd has hated you for that same amount of time. And 3, Jason Todd has the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

At 6 years old, you were convinced you would marry him someday. If only he didn’t hate you. You didn’t even know what you did! Well that’s not entirely true, you did remember…

On the first day of first grade you’d spilled glitter glue all over his backpack. He was kind to you when it happened, he’d even walked home with you from the bus stop! But you’d heard his dad yelling at him about ruining his backpack.

Jason didn’t talk to you the next day. Unbeknownst to you, he still watched to make sure you made it home from the bus stop. He continued to do this every day. Even when he was out sick, he’d watch from his bedroom window.

By the end of first grade, he’d started warming up to you again. And by the start of summer, the two of you were inseparable. You’d wander through alleyways, trying to find money on the ground. One time Jason found a $20 bill, but hid it. He wanted to use it to buy you a birthday present, but his father found it and spent it before he could.

Jason vowed to protect you, even going so far as having a fake knighting ceremony in your living room. You’d laid a blanket on the ground, acting as a long carpet leading to your throne—the couch. Jason had kneeled in front of you as you used a whisk, which you insisted was a fairy wand that made the ceremony more legit because it was magical, while you knighted him. You’d declared him your knight-in-shining-armor.

He’d proved himself for the role many times, protecting you from the kids that bullied you at school, sick dogs in the alleyways, even a couple drug dealers that thought you’d stolen from them when they saw you pick up a quarter you’d found on the ground. Jason had taken a curtain rod that was next to the dumpster and slammed it into one of the guy’s knees so you could both run away. That was the first time you’d kissed him, albeit on the cheek. His face flushed red as your lips met his face. He ducked his head and insisted that he was “just doing my duty, Princess.”

—

A few years after that, his mom had died, his father was killed by Two Face and he was being adopted by Bruce Wayne.

He insisted that he’d still be around, but it wasn’t the same. He transferred to Gotham University. His calls went from multiple times a day to far and few between, you’d be lucky to talk to him 4 times in a week. He’d visit even less, and when he did visit— he had bruises lining his arms and knees.

“Does he hit you?”

“Who, Bruce? No way!”

“Then why do you have so many bruises?”

“There’s a lot of stairs in the manor, lots to trip on. And Dick’s there too. We spar sometimes.” He shrugs at you.

You’re silent for a moment. “You know you could tell me if he was, right?” His eyes softened.

“Yeah, I know.” He looked around, scanning the room before his eyes settled on you again. “I’ll visit more. And call more too. Promise. I was just getting settled, things’ll be better now.” You believed him.

And they were.

He’s stop by at least twice a week, flowers in hand and hair slicked back. You’d coo at him as he attempted to mess it up again, muttering about ‘stupid Dick, doesn’t know anything.’

He called everyday, sometimes twice but usually once. But you’d talk for hours as he sat and listened to your voice. Sometimes he’d talk, but he usually just wanted to listen, claiming to be tired.

You had asked to visit the manor and he’d been hesitant at first. He’d only accepted the idea when he and Dick ran into you at a coffee shop. He grinned while you smiled shyly at Dick. He thought you were so cute. His heart clenched. He could only nod along, eyes dazed as he noticed how soft your hair looked today, not even registering that Dick had asked you to dinner at the manor. His head snapped towards Dick.

“I’d love to go!” You winced as you shouted at him, softening your voice before speaking to Jason, “Only if you want me to go…” You trailed off, tapping your foot lightly on the ground.

“What?” He snaps his head towards you, eyes wide. “Of course I want you to go! I just…”

He’s the one trailing off now, eyeing Dick.

“Well, I’ll let you guys have a minute. I have to go find some cereal anyways. Alfred insisted we get a healthy choice but there’s no way I’m giving up my Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And if I leave you here, you can’t be an accomplice, little wing.” Jason glares at Dick as he ruffles his hair.

He turns to you as Dick saunters away. “I do want you to come it’s just that…” You look at him, eyes becoming more guarded the longer he stalls. “I don’t want you to think I’m different.”

“Because you’re rich now? Because you actually have food you can eat? Jay, as much as I loved sneaking food out and eating with you behind the dumpster, I’m glad you have a home now. You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He smiled at you.

—

After the first time you had dinner at the manor, it seemed like you never left. You went there as soon as school ended and stayed until dinner. After dinner though, they all insisted you leave—having Alfred drive you home. You didn't mind too much, you still got to see Jason a lot, but you did think it was a bit odd.

Despite the Wayne’s insistence that you leave at 7 pm every evening, Jason was still always there for you. He held you as you cried after your parents had died in an attack by the Joker. He’d taught you how to fight when you were getting picked on at the orphanage. He brought you flowers every week, so you’d have something to put on your parents’ graves.

As the years passed, many things changed, but your relationship with Jason never did. He treated you like a princess, and he acted as your knight-in-shining-armor.

This continued until you were 15. It continued, until Jason died. Mr. Wayne was the one that told you. You didn’t believe him at first. You didn't want to believe him. He wouldn’t let you see the body. You yelled at him, screamed that you hated him. He held you while tears wracked your body.

You didn’t talk to him much after that. He’d reach out every couple weeks but you didn’t want to talk.

You didn’t talk to Dick much either, or Tim—who you’d met in passing once.

After 3 months, you were sitting on the rooftop, knees tucked to your chest. You were still grieving just as much as the day you’d found out. You weren’t sure how much longer you could go on. Each day without him somehow felt worse than before. You’d found yourself growing numb to everything around you.

You sighed, tears streaming down your face.

“I miss you Jay. I miss your smile and your laugh. I miss the way you always insisted on testing my food to make sure it wasn’t poisoned. I even miss the way you’d tug on my hair when I wasn’t paying attention during class. I miss the way you’d read Jane Austen to me over the phone when I couldn’t sleep. I just miss you.” Your heart ached as you spoke, it ached even more when you stopped.

You squeezed you eyes shut, standing up. You walked closer to the edge, arms out—feeling the breeze whip around you as it began to rain.

You opened your eyes as you heard a voice behind you.

“Y/N L/N.” You whipped around toward the sound. “You have great loss in your heart.” A pink glow floated near you, your eyes widened. You stepped back, falling off the roof.

The pink glow zoomed toward you as you fell. You closed your eyes, maybe you can see Jason now. You focused on the wind whipping around you as you felt something slide onto your finger. You opened your eyes to see a pink glow enveloping the ring that now rested on your right hand.

“What?” You’d stopped falling now, hovering several feet above the ground—upside down.

“A choice now presents itself.” Your eyebrows furrowed as the voice sounded again. “Turn away or embrace the light and allow the Star Sapphire to fill the hole of your broken heart so that you may continue to battle hate and fear across the universe.”

“I accept.”

—

As time passed, you gained control of your new powers and made some friends within the Star Sapphire Corps. This didn’t stop you from missing Jason but it helped.

Carol Ferris was another member of the Corps. She decided to take you under her wing—even making a point to move you into her home where she lived with Hal Jordan, who was introduced to you as a Green Lantern. The two of them became pseudo-parents to you, despite how much you tried to avoid it.

Some of Hal’s other Green Lantern friends would stop by, on Earth and while in space. You figured it out pretty soon that he’d told them to keep an eye on you. It was pretty easy, especially when Kyle couldn’t seem to keep a secret from you.

Yours and Kyle’s patrols often lined up, both your Corps deciding to team you up for missions. It was nice to have a friend—especially one your own age—despite his somewhat obvious crush on you.

Somewhere between fighting galactic threats and weekly movie nights, Kyle had wormed his way into your heart. You’d even come to consider him your best friend.

About a year after your new routine began; fight space threats, do your schoolwork, watch movies with Kyle, make dinner for Hal and Carol, Kyle had shown up on your doorstep with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. His face burned as you looked at him but he stayed strong.

“Everytime I’m in space and you’re here, I can’t wait to get my feet back on the ground. And when you’re in space and I’m stuck on Earth it feels like the ground is burning my feet.” He took a breath in and you tilted your head at him. He whispered your name before clearing his throat and starting over, “I know we’re usually teamed up or hanging out but I want more of your time, more of you. Do you want to go out with me?” To his credit, he stayed really strong as you stared at him silently.

“Of course, Kyle. I’d love to go out with you.” You look down, taking in what he’s wearing.” “Now?”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, polo shirt raising a but so you can see the lines of muscles that sit above his Khaki pants. “Yeah, I was going to ask you before I got called into space and I just got back an hour ago. The museum is throwing a fundraiser with the aquarium to raise money tonight.”

“Let me change and then we can go.” You pulled him inside, leaving him in the kitchen while you went to change. You pretended not to hear his cheers from the other room. You smiled at the sound. For the first time in a long time, you felt loved.

—

As more time passed, you and Kyle had grown closer. Your relationship grew as well as your friendship. His face still flushed when you smiled at him, and his hands still shook when he gave you flowers.

You loved him. Of course you did, how could you not? He was kind and smart and talented. And he treated you well. He carried bags for you while shopping; he took your shoes off for you after date nights; he learned how to bake your favorite dessert.

He protected you on missions while also respecting your ability to take care of yourself—usually. Sometimes he got a bit overprotective; but you were worse, almost obsessive when it came to his safety. He was a lot stronger than you though, so there wasn’t much you could do to protect him that he couldn’t do himself—but you always had his back.

Anytime Kyle saved you on a mission, Hal joked that Kyle was your knight in shining armor. Your heart panged less and less each time the joke was made. Jason would want you to move on, he’d be glad you found someone else to protect you.

After graduating high school, the two of you moved to New York together when he went to college. He often used you as a model for his artwork. He’d try to hide his sketchbook; not wanting you to see the pages filled with sketches of you—he’d gone through 4 books now. You were his favorite thing to draw.

You worked part time as a barista at a local coffee shop, that was all you could do though as you spent most of your time in space. Carol would send you money, still wanting to help even after you’d moved out but you’d always send it back. If you needed help you’d ask, but you weren’t going to accept any until then.

When you still lived with Carol and Hal, they’d introduced you to the Justice League. You noticed the way Batman stared at you. He had saved you a couple times—you figured he was staring because he remembered you. Hal assured you that he stared at everyone.

Kyle introduced you to some of the younger heroes. Nightwing was kind, if not a bit overbearing. You and Starfire became friends instantly, bonding over your shared love of pink and time spent in space. Everyone else on the team seemed to love you, which was good because that was your whole thing—love.

You hadn’t noticed the way Nightwing tensed when Kyle put a hand on your back. Or how he frowned when Kyle whispered in your ear. Kyle noticed though, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure why Nightwing insisted on keeping his identity for so long; you’d been part of the team for almost a year now, even going as far as saving his live twice, but he still insisted on not telling you.

He knew you both were from Gotham, maybe you’d met before? You hadn’t mentioned ever meeting Nightwing though. You mostly only talked about your old friend/boyfriend—refusing to call him ex as that had seemed too negative of a word for him.

—

More time passed—as did more missions.

Kyle had made some new friends of the Outlaws. He and Roy were already friends, having been on the same team for a bit, but he was hanging out with a guy named Red Hood more often. That’s what he always called him when he was talking to you—he didn’t want to upset you by mentioning the name Jason.

Kyle knew you still loved Jason Todd, even after all these years. But he also knew you were in love with him, he could tell by the way your eyes lit up when you saw him. And the way you smiled shyly every time he kissed you. And the way you always made sure he had eaten.

Kyle also knew you loved him too much. Almost an unhealthy amount. It was typical for Star Sapphires to love too much, for their love to be suffocating. He didn’t mind, he loved you and loved that he knew you loved him back. He didn’t mind the glares you’d send to other girls when they looked a bit too long; or the way your hands tightened around his own when someone got too close. He didn’t mind wiping away your tears when he got hurt on a mission, or when he was away too long. He also didn’t mind you tagging along on his missions, unable to be apart from him for too long.

Hal had warned him of this happening when he’d first noticed his feeling. Apparently Carol was the same way—it’s just a Star Sapphire thing.

Because of how much you loved him, he didn’t mind that you still cared for Jason—writing it off as a product of your ring’s effect on you.

But sometimes, Kyle couldn’t help but wonder if you’d choose him if Jason were to come back. After hearing about Red Hood’s return from the dead, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He hadn’t even considered that Red Hood was the same Jason, that’s why he hadn’t hesitated to invite him to his upcoming art show. All of the titans and outlaws were coming—along with you, of course.

Granted, Kyle probably should’ve considered the outcome of such a meeting happening, between you and Jason. The same Jason you thought was dead. The same Jason who was friends with your current boyfriend. But was it really Kyle’s fault if he hadn’t known? He should’ve known…things were going too well for him recently.

—

The first thing he thought of when he woke up was you. The second thing he thought of was how mad you were going to be that he’s waited years to find you again. But he wanted to be better for you; not so focused on revenge, not so angry. He wanted to be deserving of you.

When he first got back, Dick had been insistent that they find you again. Insisting that you’d be better off knowing he was back, but Jason wasn’t convinced.

He stopped suddenly a few months back, going from texting him daily about finding you to not bringing it up. Jason thought that was odd after how insistent he was previously, but anytime he tried to bring you up, Dick would change the subject with a tense expression on his face.

Jason tried to wave it off as nothing but as time passed he grew more suspicious.

While Jason worked on returning to some semblance of normal, he’d made some new friends, formed the Outlaws and started mending his relationship with his family.

Speaking of family, Dick had dragged him out to a bar to get drinks with some of their friends. He grinned as Roy cheered, patting them on the back. He looked like he was already a couple drinks in.

“You’re late!” He yelled at Dick.

Jason swatted his hand away as he ruffled his hair—no mind that Jason was taller than him. “Sorry, man, this one didn’t want to leave the house.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Well I’m here now.” He slid into the seat beside Roy.

“How’s Lian?”

“She’s good! Kyle’s girlfriend is watching her tonight. Only way we’d both be able to be here.” He kicked Kyle under the table.

“Hey! It’s not my fault I want to spend all my free time with her. You’re just jealous that you don’t have a girl.”

Roy stuck his tongue out while Kyle mimed crying at him. Jason laughed as Dick slid into the seat beside Kyle, bringing with him a round of drinks.

They all looked at Kyle as he pushed his glass towards Dick.

“Not drinking?” Jason raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nah, the missus doesn’t like when I drink. Plus we were gonna catch a midnight showing at the theater later. I’d rather not pass out before then.”

Roy huffed, “You’re not even married yet, you can’t call her that!” Jason eyed Dick as he tensed beside Kyle.

“Sure I can! We’ll be married soon enough. I already asked Hal and Carol if I could marry her, they were both ecstatic.” He grinned, patting his jacket. “I’ve got a ring already. Planning to propose next weekend, Carol’s got a cabin up north.” His smile softens as he says your name, “She loves the water. Figured I’d make a boat for her…or maybe she’ll make it since she likes pink so much.”

“Your girlfriends a Star Sapphire?” Jason questioned.

Roy laughed, slapping his shoulder excitedly. “Oh yeah! She like the Star Sapphire. Obsessed with him too. Follows him around everywhere. Although he’s just as bad. Only reason he came out tonight was because I dragged him after they’d gotten to my apartment.”

Kyle glared back playfully before a dopey grin spread across his face. “She’s awesome. And super smart. She’s gorgeous, I mean I’m lucky she even looked twice at me—”

Jason tuned him out as he couldn’t help but think of you. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d woken up on the rooftop, next to you, after hours spent stargazing—although he usually spent more time looking at you.

Eventually he snapped out of his daydream when he realized everyone was staring at him. Roy nudged his shoulder.

“You good, man?”

“Yeah, yeah, just thinking.” He mumbled dismissively.

“Okay, well, are you ready to go? Bars shutting down. Based off the looks the bartender is sending us, if we don’t leave now I think he’s gonna start throwing the stools.”

They all stood up, Jason tugged his jacket on.

“Kyle and I are headed back to my place, you guys coming?”

“No!” Dick shouted, face turning red. Jason frowned at him, he’d been awfully quiet all night. “Jay and I have to get back to the cave.” He avoided eye contact with Jason who looked bewildered. “B’s expecting us.” He stammered.

Everyone stood, shocked, looking at Dick’s panting form.

“Wow, if you don’t wanna hang out anymore just say that.” Roy nudged him, snickering.

“I know you don’t like her but geez.” Kyle stared, expression tense.

“What? No! It’s not that I don’t like her, it’s just that—”

“Dude, you’ve known her for over a year, she’s saved your life—multiple times—and you still won’t tell her your identity! Of course you don’t like her. If it’s because she’s a Sapphire, she’s not gonna turn evil suddenly. She wouldn’t do that.”

Jason furrowed his brow at that. Dick was acting really weird. Was Dick in love with her? Maybe he does need to meet this girl.

“I don’t need to go to the cave, I’ll probably just crash at your place, if that’s alright?” He nodded at Roy who agreed immediately. Dick flinched…noticeably…which just finalized Jason’s decision to meet Kyle’s girlfriend.

“No!”

“What?”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“You just can’t, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because Kyle’s girlfriend is your girlfriend!” Dick looked like he was going to throw up. Jason froze. Roy’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“What?!” Kyle looked like he was going to pass out.

“I—I mean, she’s…she used to— her and Jay…before he died, dated?” He finished his subpar explanation.

“You’re the Jason?” Kyle turned to him.

“You’re dating my girlfriend?” Jason was mad no. No—he was furious. He rounded on Dick, “You knew? You knew she had a boyfriend and didn’t think it was a good idea to tell me?” He was shouting now, “That’s not something you keep from someone, Dick!” They both knew he didn’t mean it as his name. “That’s not something you keep from your brother.” He spit the last part out, slamming his shoulder into Dick’s as he passed.

“Jay, wait!” Dick was running after him, but Jason didn’t want to talk. He sat heavily on his bike, revving it as he peeled away down the street.

He was furious. And sad. And jealous. He wanted to kill someone.

—

Kyle was freaking out. He has to tell you! But what would you say? What would you do? Who would you choose? He knew you loved him, but you loved Jason too. He’d always felt like he couldn’t live up to his memory, but then you’d smooth his hair and pepper kisses to his face, and all those fears would melt away. But now? His fears were real. Jason was real. Jason was alive.

“I gotta go.”

“Wait up, I’m coming with.”

“No, I gotta do this on my own.”

“No, I have to come with, she’s babysitting my daughter.” That seemed to snap some sense back into Kyle.

“Oh yeah, right.” A pause.

“What’re you going to do?”

“I have to tell her. She’d hate me if I kept this from her. I can’t propose if she doesn’t know, if I’m lying to her—aw man, I can’t propose at all!” He threw his head into his hands, “She’s going to be so conflicted.”

“She loves you.” Roy grabbed his shoulder.

“But she loves him too.” Roy knows this, Kyle had mentioned it once when they first started dating.

“I didn’t know it was him, really.” Kyle nodded at him, Roy wouldn’t lie to him. Dick Grayson on the other hand? Currently—public enemy number one.

“What do I even say? ‘Hey, Babe! Remember your ex, sorry, can’t say ex because you respect him too much, remember your previous boyfriend? The dead one. He’s alive! And also a crime lord. And also still in love with you, and one of my best friends! Surprise! Anyways, let’s get married.’” He froze, “What if she thinks I’m only proposing so she’s stuck with me before Jason can take her away?” He turned to Roy, eyes wide. “What if Jason kills me?” He groaned, slamming his head into the wall of the building next to them.

“Okay, first, her marrying you wouldn’t mean she’s stuck. She could easily divorce you. Or cheat.” He rushed to explain as Kyle let out another groan. “Not that she would! And two, he’s not going to kill you.” He considered it for a minute, “Okay, so he might kill you.”

“You are the least helpful person ever, man.”

Roy laughed, eyes alight with mischief, “What if you challenge him to a duel in her honor? You could even use your ring to construct a joust tournament.” Kyle glared at him.

“He’d shoot me.” Roy hummed at that, he likely would.

Kyle froze as his phone started ringing. It was you. He threw the phone at Roy.

“What do I do?”

“Answer!”

“What are you doing?” Both men snapped their head towards the screen, apparently the call had already started.

“Uh…nothing?” You hummed, eyes narrowing—but they couldn’t see that.

“Lian’s asleep. Will you be back soon?” Kyle looked at Roy frantically.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be back soon.”

“Okay. Just you two?” Roy bit out a quick yes, ready to end the call. “Hmm, that doesn’t have anything to do with the call I just got from Dick does it?”

Kyle froze at your words, voice shaking, “What call from Dick?”

You grew suspicious as his voice squeaked, “Just that Jason wasn’t feeling well and had to go home?”

“You know about Jason?” Kyle smacked the back of Roy’s head.

“Look, we’re headed back now. We’ll be there in a few minutes, we can talk more then.” He paused, waiting for you to respond but you don’t, before adding, “I love you.”

He heard you sigh, “I love you too, Kyle.”

He could only hope you still did after your next conversation.

—

You opened the door when the boys got back. Kyle wrapped his arms around you in a hug, seemingly unwilling to let you go. You softened against him and bunched his shirt in your hands. You listened to the sound of his heavy breathing, you could feel his heart beating inches from your head. Pounding.

“Are you okay?” You ask, not pulling back.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He mumbles something else into your hair. You laugh as he nuzzles his nose along the top of your head.

Roy clears his throat from somewhere behind you, you create a pink construct to shoo him away. “This is my house!”

You pull away from Kyle, glaring as you shush him. “Lian is sleeping! Be quiet before you wake her!”

Roy gives you a mock salute, not wanting to agitate you any more before your conversation with Kyle.

Kyle placed a hand on your back, guiding you towards the window. You realized something must be wrong in order for you to go out the window and not the door. “We need to talk.” You froze at his words.

“Talk? About what?” You tilted your head to the side, looking up at him with wide eyes. He cursed under his breath, fighting everything in him not to kiss you—now’s not the time.

“We’ll talk at home.”

“No, tell me now.” He sighed.

“Please. You’ll want to be home for this.” Kyle felt like his heart was going to give out as he watched your face scrunch up. “Please.” He said your name softly. You nodded, walking towards the window.

“Bye, Roy. Tell Lian I had fun tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.

—

You’d arrived home several minutes later, having used your rings to fly. He’d guided you to the couch, taking your hands in his. As he explained he watched your eyes dart around the room, as if looking for him.

He’d expected you to react poorly, to throw something, scream, cry, something…anything; but he didn’t expect silence. You nodded once and stood up from the couch, heading into the kitchen to finish cleaning some leftover dishes.

“I’m here for you, if you need anything.” Kyle wanted to ask what was going to happen between you two; wanted to ask if you still loved him, still wanted him, if he was enough; but he knew it wasn’t the time. He needed to support you. You needed him. Anything he wanted would have to wait.

You hummed at his words.

He didn’t get any response from you that night. Or the next morning. He didn’t hear a word from you before he was called to Oa for an important mission.

“I can stay.” You turned to him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“Go.” He doesn’t like the way you whisper it.

“I can stay, you need me.”

You smiled softly, resting a hand on his cheek. “The universe needs you. Go save it, hero.” He leaned into your tough, hesitating before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Call me. For anything.” You nodded, leaning into his touch. He paused, enjoying the feeling of you pressed against him. Savoring this moment. “I love you.”

You smiled up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I love you too, lightning bug.” He kissed you harder this time, wanting to still feel your lips against his as he left this sector.

He gave you one last longing glance as he stepped through the window. You sighed, watching as the glowing green light disappeared.

You smiled, touching your lips—still feeling his own against them.

—

Jason was a wreck. It had been two days since that night at the bar. Two days since he found out you were dating Kyle. A lantern? Really?

The safe house he was in was a mess; shattered glass from the dishes he’d thrown, couch overturned.

He sighed, sinking down against the wall, head in hands. He missed you. So much. But you were gone. You weren’t his anymore.

He felt his anger rising as he thought of you moving on. Kyle had mentioned that you two have been together for a couple years. So what, a year and a half? Two years? That’s how long it took you to get over him? He stood up, grabbing his jacket.

He needed to see you, needed to know. Maybe they were wrong, maybe it wasn’t you? He knew that was just wishful thinking. He scoffed. Of course you had a boyfriend. You were so…wonderful. Anyone would be lucky to have you. He was lucky to have you for as long as he did.

He found himself cursing the Joker for killing him all over again. Then he cursed himself. If he’d come back as soon as he’d woken up from the Lazarus Pit, he could still have you. You wouldn’t have fallen in love with Kyle.

He slammed his door on the way out, trying to distract from his rage. He couldn’t show up like this. Not while he’s this angry. He cracks his neck as he settles on top of his bike. Hands clenching the handles as he drove off towards New York. Hopefully he’d be a bit less angry by the time he arrived.

—

You opened the door to see Jason, your Jason. He should’ve looked terrible, all sweaty and huffing in anger, but to you he looked perfect. Although, you figure, this is definitely an improvement to the dead picture of him you’d been imagining in your head.

Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, leather jacket, dirty jeans, tousled hair—the white streak is new, you note. You open your mouth to speak, to say anything, but you can’t.

He says your name, softly. Reverently. Your eyes snap to his, you notice there are specks of green in them now—that’s new too.

You reach up, skimming your fingers against the scar on his cheek. “Jay?” He leans into your touch before pulling back suddenly, but that doesn’t deter you.

“You’re…alive? Really, actually alive?” He nods harshly, as if not in control of his own actions.

He tenses as you rush forward to hug him, sobbing into his chest. He tries to stay still, guarded, but he can’t resist wrapping his arms around you. It had been six years since he’d seen you last—and now you were standing here, hugging him. He pressed his face to your hair, breathing you in.

The two of you stayed there like that for several minutes until your neighbor came out and reminded you that you were standing in your open doorway. You tugged him inside and shut the door, ignoring your neighbor’s curious gaze.

You watch as Jason scans the apartment, freezing at the pictures of you and Kyle on the wall. You freeze too.

“How long?” He mumbles, giving you a sideways glance.

“What?”

“How long have you two been together?” He needed to hear it from you, needed to know.

“Four years this fall.” He shoots you a scathing look and scoffs.

You narrow your eyes at him, “What?” Your voice is defensive as you ask.

“You couldn’t even wait two years for me. I waited six years for you! And you couldn’t even manage two.” He glared at you. You frowned, he’d never looked at you like that before.

“You were dead, Jason. There was no one to wait for!”

He scoffs again, despite knowing you were right. But he hated that you weren’t his. Hated that another man got to have you. He turned away suddenly, walking closer to the pictures. He stopped at one off to the right. A strip of pictures from a photo booth. The bottom photo was covered by mesh writing but he could tell the two of you were kissing.

If kisses were stars, I’d give you the sky.

-your knight in shining armor

Jason stepped back, heart dropping to his stomach. He turned to you, glaring.

“I would’ve waited forever for you. You couldn’t even wait two years before throwing yourself at the first man to show you any attention. I never would’ve asked you out, never would have loved you, if I knew you were such a pathetic whor—”

He was cut off by your gasp, hands trembling. His gaze softened, reaching for you out of instinct but you backed away from him as if burned. He tried to remember what he’d said. His blood ran cold as he remembered.

He whispered your name. No response, you just continued backing up, stopping when you backed into the couch. He tried again, stepping towards you. A cry tore out of your throat.

“Get out.” Your voice was icy—guarded. He didn’t mean to say that. He would never mean that. He tried to explain but you weren’t listening, “Get out.” You repeated, louder this time.

“Y/N— I didnt…” He trailed off as you refused to meet his gaze.

“Get out!” You were moving forward now, pushing against his chest. “Go!” You kept crying and hitting and yelling. “I don’t want you here. Leave. Get out!”

You were pushing him still, pounding against his chest. Sobbing hysterically as he wouldn’t budge.

“Y/N—”

“Go. Now. Or I’ll call the cops.” He didn’t believe you but he was just making things worse by staying.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out the words.

You didn’t falter, just kept hitting and pushing and crying.

You slammed the door behind him as he left, falling down against it as sobs wracked your body.

—

Kyle was exhausted by the time he got back to Sector 2814. All he wanted now—the entire time he was gone—was to see you. Hold you. Kiss you. He just wanted you to be okay, for you to still love him. He could only hope you did. You’d always been understanding about him leaving before—you often had to do the same—but he’d never left you like this. Not when you needed him.

He cursed himself as he stood in the elevator, waiting to get to his floor. He never should've gone. He should’ve asked Hal to cover for him. Or Guy, or John.

He shook his head, rubbing his hands restlessly through his hair as he left the elevator. He hadn’t wanted to wake you by going through the window.

“Kyle?” He snapped his head up as he heard a soft whisper of his name coming from the doorway across from yours.

“Oh, hey, what’s up?” He couldn’t remember her name, too distracted by the way your hands had moved excitedly when you’d met your new neighbors.

“I just wanted to warn you. About your girlfriend. There was a guy here while you were gone. They were hugging in the hallway for a long time before she’d tugged him into the apartment.” She spoke softly, almost worried you’d overhear. Kyle frowned as she continued, “I just wanted to let you know. I’d hate for you to be misled.” She pouted before batting her eyelashes, “Anyways, if you need a place to stay, I have more room here…I just got a queen bed.” Kyle flinched back as she started touching his arm. You’d always hated her after a party one of your other neighbors had thrown. You told Kyle she’d been flirting all night, he hadn’t noticed—too busy sketching you onto his napkin.

“Okay.”

She scoffed, “Okay? That’s it? I tell you your girlfriend is cheating and you say okay?”

“You actually said she’d hugged a guy and then brought him inside. And then you offered me to sleep with you despite knowing I have a girlfriend.”

She glared at him, huffing as she slammed her door. He winced, that definitely would have woken you up.

He opened the door to your shared apartment quietly, hoping not to disturb you further.

“Kyle?” You sniffled.

He turned, suddenly on full alert. “Are you okay?”

Another sniffle, “Yeah, just missed you.” He turned the light on, frowning as he saw your mascara stained cheeks.

“I’m here now.” He scooped you up before setting you in his lap as he sat on the couch. You curled in closer to his chest, burrowing your face into his neck. He tried not to shiver as your tears grew cold against his skin. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry.” He tensed under you.

“Why?” He said the word slowly, as if he didn’t want to ask.

“I, you’ve been so, I love you. But I—” You inhale shakily, “I love you but I still…” You trailed off, unable to face him.

“Love Jason?” You nodded, pulling away. He didn’t let you move far, tightening his arms around your waist. “Did anything happen?” You knew what he was asking.

“We just hugged. For a while.”

He let out a relieved laugh before speaking, “Yeah, the neighbor told me that.” You tensed in his hold, once again trying to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. “She also offered me room in her bed if I had to move out.” He needed to get all of this out. “But I dealt with it, so you don’t need to go over there and yell or fight, okay?” You didn’t answer, just kept squirming and huffing. “Okay?” He repeated.

“Fine.” You bit out and he loosened his grip on you.

“Okay. Now do you want to talk about what happened with Jason?”

Your eyes started watering again at his name. You mumbled something into his shirt.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” He wanted you to talk, needed to know what had happened. But he’d wait until you're ready. He let you cry into his chest as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. He hummed softly, knowing it helped you relax.

30 minutes later, you’d cried yourself to sleep. He scooped you up again, this time walking you to the bedroom. He laid you down, tugging the covers up over you before turning off the lights. You’d be upset to have fallen asleep without brushing in the morning, but for now you needed to rest.

He snuck into the bathroom, quickly brushing before sliding in bed next you you. You stirred softly as his arms wrapped around you, but didn’t wake. He planted soft kisses against your shoulders as he drifted off to sleep beside you.

—

After leaving your apartment, Jason headed straight for the Manor. Despite their disagreements, Bruce often offered good advice. And he was going to need all the advice he could get if he wanted to redeem himself.

He knocked on Bruce’s study, peeking his head in. “B?”

Bruce looked up from the documents covering his desk—Jason couldn’t tell if they were Wayne Enterprises or Batman related, nor did he care.

“Jason?”

“I messed up.” Bruce stood, beckoning Jason into the room. They both moved to sit on the couch, keeping several inches of space between them.

“What happened?”

“I went to see Y/N.” He said your name softly, regretfully. Bruce nodded, he’d figured that’s where Jason would end up after Dick had called him frantically, shouting about how he was the worst brother ever and that Jason would never forgive him.

Jason continued with a shaky breath, “Dick said she was dating Kyle Rayner.” He sighed, elbows resting on his knees. “I wasn’t nice to her.” He scoffed, sitting up. “Actually, I was awful to her!”

“What are you going to do now?” Jason snapped his gaze toward his father.

“What do you mean?”

“You messed up. Now you need to apologize.” Bruce softened, hand squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “I know how much you care for her, how much you’ve always cared.” He sighed. “Dick and I weren’t there for her much after you died. A few months later, she’d gotten a Star Sapphire ring.” Jason nodded, Kyle had explained all the rings to him once—he knew the Star Sapphire’s were love.

“She got the ring because of me?” Bruce nodded.

“She needed it. The few time I spoke to her afterwards, she barely seemed human. The ring saved her. It gave her a purpose, filled the hole that you’d left behind. Carol Ferris met her through the corps, and convinced her to move in with herself and Hal.” Bruce continued his story, filling Jason in on everything he’d missed involving you.

Jason nodded, thinking; if the ring went to you because you loved him—maybe he still had a chance. But he had a lot of grovelling to do first.

—

You woke up to Kyle tracing a finger up and down your spine. You turned around, smiling widely at him. He grinned down at you, hands grabbing onto your hips as he rolled himself on top of you.

“Hi.”

“Hi, honey.” You tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Your hair is longer.”

“It grew out while I was in space. Wanna cut it for me?”

You grinned. You always loved getting to cut his hair. “Yes!” He rolled the two of you over so you were sitting on his stomach.

“Okay, but first we should eat something.”

“Oh oh! What about that new cafe down the street? They just opened while you were gone. I don’t want to go without you.” You smiled shyly as he grinned at you.

“You’re so sweet, baby. Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course! Plus it would be no fun without you.” He smiled at you, lazily watching as you hopped around the room getting ready.

—

A few hours later, you’d eaten at the cafe and cut his hair. Kyle was growing more worried by the minute. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the uncontrollable sobs or the acting like nothing was wrong. He decided to bring it up at dinner.

“Are you alright?” He watched you angrily cut carrots, barely missing your fingers. He quickly grabbed the knife, guiding it down slowly. He turned you to face him. “It’s okay to be upset.”

You glared at him, “I’m not upset.” He hummed at that. “I’m not!” He just continued cutting the carrots that you were already cutting. “Really, okay?! I’m fine! Nothing to be upset about! Except maybe the fact that you totally took over making dinner. What, I’m so pathetic I can’t even cut a carrot?” You’d said the last part, hoping he wouldn’t hear. He stopped his cutting at your words.

“Pathetic? What? No, honey, I’d never think your pathetic. Why would you think that?” He grabbed your hands, clasping them in his.

You glared at the ground, “I—I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow at you, ducking slightly to meet your gaze. He frowned. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Jason, does it?” You froze as he spoke, confirming his suspicions. “Did he say that to you? Did he call you pathetic?”

“No, maybe—I mean he didn’t mean it, I’m sure but—I don’t know.” You sighed, leaning into Kyle’s hold. He tightened his arms around you before moving back.

He held your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “You’re not pathetic. Okay? You’re anything but! You’re smart and gorgeous and kind. You’re literally a superhero! You are so far from pathetic, okay?” You nodded noncommittally and pulled back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Are you mad at me?” Kyle gave you a surprised look.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“About Jason. I invited him in and I told you I still love him and you’ve spent this entire time trying to make me feel better! Why wouldn’t you be mad?”

Kyle sighed, leaning against the counter. “Your boyfriend died, which resulted in you getting a magical ring that not only gived you superpowers, but it also messes with your emotions—a lot. Then you found out your dead boyfriend is actually alive, and he is mad that you didn’t spend the rest of your life waiting for him, despite the fact that he was literally dead. I think you’re allowed to be upset. And still love him. The Star Sapphire Corps’ whole thing is love. Of course you’d still love him! I just hope you’ll still be in love with me when all of this is over.” He says the last bit, softer—avoiding eye contact.

You softened, eyes tearing up as you looked at him. He looked exhausted. “Oh Kyle, of course I’ll still be in love with you. I’m always going to love you. Forever. You’re it for me, okay? As much as I love Jason, as much as I miss him—I love you more. You’re kind and generous and so so thoughtful. Even more than that, I feel safe with you—whether it’s fighting intergalactic crime or grocery shopping, I don’t have to worry because I know you’re there.” You wrap your arms around his torso, tucking your head beneath his chin. “I love you, Kyle Rayner. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, and more than I ever will.”

—BONUS—

It was another week before you decided to answer any of your friends' calls. The first one you’d answered was Roy—and that was only because he needed an emergency babysitter. He and the Outlaws were going on a mission and would be gone for a couple days. Well, a couple days turned into a week…which turned into two. By day 11, they’d called Kyle in for backup. He quickly agreed to lend a hand—planning to talk to Jason about what had happened.

As much as Jason hated Kyle for stealing you, he did appreciate his willingness to help. He did not, however, appreciate being cornered on the jet ride home.

“Move, man. I need to get to my bag.”

“One second, okay? I just want to talk.” Jason crossed his arms over his chest.

“What’s up?”

“It’s about Y/N.”

“What about her?”

“What did you say to her?” Jason tensed at that.

“We didn’t actually do much talking.” Kyle frowned at his words.

“You called her pathetic?” Kyle asked, already seeming to know the answer. Jason flinched.

“It’s none of your business.” He tried to step around him but a green construct appeared in his way.

“Actually, it is my business. When I find my girlfriend crying over something another man said to her, that makes it my business.” Kyle glared at him.

Jason winced, he’d always hated making you cry.

Kyle took a step closer, arms crossing over his chest. “But that’s not the only think you said to her, is it?” Jason couldn’t tell if he knew or not—but he figured if Kyle knew then he’d have killed him by now.

“I said it’s none of your business.”

“And I said it is my business.”

“Stay out of it, man.”

“No, she’s my girlfriend.”

“She was my girlfriend first!”

“You died! And then when you came back, you didn’t even try to find her!”

“Well, there wouldn’t have been much to find because she’d already been whoring herself out to—” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Kyle swung his fist right into his nose.

Kyle grabbed the collar of his shirt, holding him up. Jason tried to swing at him but green constructs held his arms down. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that ever again. Don’t go near her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look in her direction. You don’t deserve to.” He froze, looking up at Jason’s bloody nose. “Is that what you said to her? You called her a whore?” Kyle laughed bitterly as he set Jason down, constructs disappearing. “You’re the one that’s pathetic. I get that you died and all, but grow up. Life didn’t just stop when yours did.” He started walking away before stopping, “You owe my girlfriend an apology. And flowers.”

A/N: I wasn’t sure how to end this, willing to make a part two if enough people want it. Let me know if you want to be added to my Jason Todd x Reader or Kyle Rayner x Reader taglist!!!🤍

[tacoguacamole]

I LOVE YOU MORE | JJK

New house, no bed frame, and too much love to wait. You and Jeongguk christen your home the only way you both know how—through teasing, tender chaos, and a whole lot of love poured between unpacked boxes and breathless confessions.

ANOTHER TIME DRABBLE #2

[Pairing: Creative Director!Jungkook x CEO!Female Reader]

[Theme: Marriage AU. BF2L2S]

[Warnings: Explicit Mature Content, Excessive Sap (Handle with Caution), Bed Frame Not Included, Loud, Yapper Jeongguk, Minor Risk of Dehydration (They’re that in love).]

[Note: This drabble lives somewhere in their early married years—when the Seoul house was still half-empty, the future was still half-planned, but the love was full and overflowing. Something soft, spicy, and a little chaotic. Just them, too in love to wait for curtains or bed frames. Lover boy Jeongguk is loud, in every way, and you matching him beat for beat. Just a little something and thank you for patiently sticking around for the series. Thank you for reading, always.💜]

ANOTHER TIME INDEX: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

[Drabble Word Count: 2K]

[MINORS DNI! 18+]

The house is too quiet tonight. But it’s not the kind of quiet that unnerves.

It’s the kind that settles in your bones. Soft and still.

The windows are cracked open, letting in night air that smells like pavement and fresh starts. The curtain rods are still bare, a folded sheet draped over one like a makeshift veil, rustling faintly with the breeze.

Somewhere in the middle of the living room—half-unpacked, half-furnished—Jeongguk is staring up at the ceiling like it’s a sky he’s never seen.

You watch him from the kitchen entryway, sleeves pushed up, knees sore from squatting over boxes. Your whole body aches, but the smile on his face makes something else ache too.

He doesn’t look at you. Just grins. “I think I’m still in love.”

You snort. “You think?”

“I’m debating if I’m in love with you… or with that dumb little corner by the stairs where we said we’d put the shoe rack.”

Your eyes narrow. “I will throw this dishrag at you.”

He walks over, all mismatched socks and cocky steps, oversized hoodie, one sleeve up exposing those damn tattoos, the other down, like it’s always been your favorite look on him. When he’s close enough, he tugs the rag out of your hands and tosses it somewhere behind him.

“Can’t believe this is ours,” he murmurs, eyes on your face now. “No parents. No landlords. Just you, me, and a fuckton of drywall.”

“Don’t forget the faulty bathroom light.”

“I’m emotionally attached to it already.”

You laugh, and he lights up like he wants to live in that sound. Then, with zero warning, he lifts you by the hips and sets you on the counter, sliding between your knees like he belongs there.

“You’re gonna dent my countertop.”

“Our countertop,” he corrects, leaning in. “And I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

“You’re not that handy.”

“Oh, I’m very handy,” he says, voice dipping low.

And there it is—that spark. That shift in the air.

You tilt your head. “Are we really doing this in a house that doesn’t even have curtains yet?”

“I’ve waited three months to see you in this kitchen,” he says, crowding close. “You think I’m waiting another night to fuck you in it?”

Your breath stumbles. But your hands find his hoodie anyway, fingers curling in the fabric.

“You’re getting cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects again, brushing his lips just beneath your ear. “And I think I earned it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “Because I love you more.”

You tug his hoodie strings. “You’re still on that?”

“I’ll never be off that,” he whispers, right before his lips crash into yours.

It starts slow. Familiar. But then his hands slide beneath your shirt like he needs proof. Like he can’t believe you’re here, legs open for him, in this kitchen you picked together.

“You know what’s hot?” he mutters, tugging your shirt upward.

“What?”

“That you picked this house with me.”

“Is that your idea of foreplay?”

“It is now.”

Your shirt hits the floor. His hoodie follows. He groans as you trace your fingers up his bare chest, and you kiss him, sloppy and grinning.

“Fuck,” he pants. “I love you.”

“You always say that when you’re hard.”

“No, I say that because I’m in love with you. The hard-on’s just enthusiastic agreement.”

By the time you make it to the bedroom—just a mattress on the floor and unopened boxes in the corner. The air smells faintly of fresh wood and Jeongguk’s cologne. The rest of your clothes disappear with no grace at all—just messy tugging, stolen laughs, his mouth trailing heat down your collarbone as he pins you to the sheets with his weight.

“I’m gonna say it now,” he murmurs, breath hot on your skin. “So you can’t argue later. I love you more. You can try to fight it, but you’re gonna lose.”

“Pretty confident for someone who can’t even build a bed.”

“You want a bed or an orgasm?”

You bite your lip, eyes dark with challenge. “Both.”

“Then guess I better impress you twice.”

He kneels between your legs like you’re something sacred. Hands glide up your thighs, mouth following slow.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “This—this is mine.”

“Stop yapping and do your thing.”

“Admit it first,” he smirks, gripping your thighs, kissing them with teasing slowness. “Admit that I love you more.”

“J-Jeongguk—”

He chuckles darkly. “Wrong answer baby.”

You whimper, hips lifting, surprise him—hands fisting in his hair, thighs clamped tight around his head like you could keep him right where he belongs.

He groans into you like it’s a reward. "Fuck, baby—missed me?”

You snap, breathless, “Shut up. You’re too slow.”

He grins like the devil. “I was trying to devour my wife.” Then he lifts your thighs higher. “But hey, if you want to be ruined—”

Hands locking over your hips, he drags you back down to the mattress and proves it—proves how much more he loves you with every slow, thorough motion of his mouth. Lazily. Reverently. Over and over until your thighs are trembling and your cries are punched into your own hand. Every lick, every curl of his fingers is deliberate. Focused. He watches your face like he’s memorizing it.

“Gguk—”

He kisses the inside of your knee, voice dark and low. “You’re so needy for me tonight. Don’t hold back. Let me hear all of it.”

And you do. You give him everything—every gasp, every desperate roll of your hips, every raw sound his name pulls from you. Your body arches off the bed and he groans like your pleasure's carved into his own bones.

You’re shaking. Sobbing his name. Thighs trembling around his head.

Jeongguk doesn’t stop. But he does slow down—tongue teasing, fingers curling just right—until you’re clawing at the pillows, cursing his name like a prayer.

“Funny way to show how much more you love me when you can’t finish the deed, babe.”

“Mm. You really need me that bad?” he taunts, voice hoarse. “You’re fucking soaked.”

“You gonna do something about it?”

He grins, filthy. Then dives back in—no warning, no mercy. Just love poured into every inch of you.

You sob, eyes rolling. “Holy shit–”

When he finally rises, his lips glisten, chest heaving. His eyes are wrecked and ravenous.

“You’re a menace,” you breathe. “Get up here.”

He smiles shyly—like something soft just slipped through the cracks. He shifts upward, gentler now, palm smoothing along your side. “You okay?” he whispers, brushing strands of hair from your face.

“I’d be better if you were inside me.”

He groans—a desperate, pained sound—kisses you deep, slow, breath still heavy with need. He climbs over you, worship written all over his face. When he finally sinks into you—slow, deep, stretching you perfectly—you both moan in unison.

“Don’t say shit like that unless you’re ready to deal with what it does to me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in deeper. “Then stop talking and fuck me.”

And he does. Not just like he needs you—like he loves you, more than anything that’s ever come before.

Your head tilts back at the stretch, at the heat of him.

He groans like it’s killing him to be inside you. Like your body’s the one thing in this world that never stops undoing him.

You breathe his name, fingernails curling into his back.

He thrusts deep. Again. And again. His voice stutters through every word.

“I swear—” His forehead falls to yours. “—swear I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t even care if the bed frame breaks when we put it together. We’ll just fuck on the floor.”

You want to laugh. But all you can do is hold him tighter. Your arms wrap around his neck like they belong there. Like this moment could stretch forever and still not be enough.

“You babble too much.”

“You love it.”

You do. You always do.

Because it’s not just the way he moves, it’s the way he means everything. The way he calls you baby in the same breath as cursing under it. The way he needs you like air.

You roll him onto his back, straddling him without losing rhythm.

“Fuck—fuck, look at you—” His eyes flutter. His grip on your hips tightens.

“Guess I’m winning huh?”

He whines, hands sliding up your sides. “You’re so hot when you think you’re in charge. My wife.”

“You gonna take it back?”

“Damn right I am.”

He bucks up into you hard enough to knock your breath out.

“You’re such a talker,” you gasp, clenching around him.

“You love when I talk,” he says, rolling his hips slow. “You clench every time I tell you how good you are.”

So you do it again. Just to prove him right. Just to make him suffer.

Jeongguk chokes. “Dirty fucking move.”

“You asked for it.”

He kisses you deep, hips never faltering. Every thrust sends heat coiling through your spine. Sweat pools between your bodies. His hair’s stuck to his forehead, but his eyes never leave yours.

And in them, you see everything—his awe, his hunger, his heart. He looks at you like he still can’t believe he gets to love you like this. Like you’re the most real thing he’s ever touched.

“I love you,” he breathes, “God, I love you so much. Please look at me.”

You whimper, nails raking down his chest. “I love you – fuck, I love you too.”

“That’s it.” He kisses your jaw, your temple, your mouth. “Say it again.”

Just as you were about to, Jeongguk shifts—hitting something inside you that makes your toes curl.

You cry out, back arching. “There,” you gasp. “Don’t stop—there—”

He slams back into you, hard and deep. “You’re gonna come for me, baby?”

You nod helplessly, legs trembling, let out a pathetic, “Mhm.”

His hand finds yours, lacing fingers tight. “Then do it. I’ve got you. Want to feel you, baby. You’re home with me.”

You fall apart—shuddering, writhing, mouth open in a moan that barely makes it out. The pleasure crashes through you, raw and consuming, leaving your limbs trembling and mind blank.

He follows later with a groan torn from deep in his chest, a final thrust so deep it sends the world blurring out around you. His breath stutters against your cheek as he spills inside you, clutching you like he never wants to let go.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “I fucking love you.”

You cling to him—one arm thrown across his back, the other tangled in his damp hair. You feel the soft drag of his lips at your temple, and all you can do is breathe him in. Heart still racing. Mind still lost somewhere in the way he held you through it all.

Your voice is barely a whisper. “You’re insane.”

He smiles against your skin. “Only for you.”

Later, tangled in a sheet that still smell like cardboard, fresh linen, something that barely cover either of you properly, Jeongguk pulls you onto his chest.

“You think the house heard us?”

You nuzzle into his neck. “Hope it took notes.”

He chuckles, thumb drawing lazy circles on your spine. “Wonder if the balcony railings are as strong as they look.”

You yawn. “Think I’m gonna need a few days, babe. You proved your point.”

He feigns a dramatic pout, eyes gleaming soft and mischievous. “Promise we’ll go again in every room?”

“Sure, Gguk,” you mumble. “Just let me sleep. Still gotta fix the shelf tomorrow for your Iron Man dolls.”

He laughs, kisses you again—soft, slow, like he’s smoothing time down to this one perfect second. His palm cradles your cheek, fingers brushing hair from your eyes.

“Love you.”

Your voice is a whisper against his skin. “Love you too.”

And when your breathing finally evens, his voice finds you again—quiet, smug, and achingly tender:

“I love you more.”

[moody-alcoholic]

The Hunt

AN: sorry...

Summary: 4k words. Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe

CW: assault, torture, descriptions of violence, physical violence, knifes, guns, people getting shot, blood, people being bound/tied up, people being stabbed, people being killed, death, angst.

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

You wake to the sound of a door slamming. Your head is spinning as you look round the room. There’s a throbbing in the back of you head. You look up seeing Jack walking over to you. 

“What didn’t get enough in Syria?” You ask as he stops at your feet. You’re nervous you don’t know what to say, you just hope they’re on their way. Jack isn’t saying anything. You feel sick with the throbbing in your head. 

“Don’t flatter yourself I don’t care about you just your boyfriends.” He says walking over to a table. You can make out a bunch of equipment, weapons, knives, ammo. You look round the rest of the room. The curtains have all been drawn closed, you can’t tell if the sun is up or not. There are no clocks, you can’t hear anything to indicate where you are. Maybe it’s just your head spinning but it’s not helping you place the ambience. 

“What is your obsession with them?” You ask. He stays silent as he picks a knife off the table. You sigh, there is no way he’s going to do anything. You really try hard to believe it, although he seems very much unhinged. You need to make a plan in your head if Simon and Johnny are not coming. Dying is not an option, or alt least you hope not, if he killed you he won’t be able to get intel from you. Maybe he doesn’t want to kill you, this seems like a different play.

“I’m not obsessed, I just want to provide for my family.” He says, he sounds somewhat defeated. Maybe what was supposed to have happened hasn't happened yet. Or maybe he’s trying to buy time and lower your defences. 

“Susan is your wife right, Chloe’s older sister? I know you have a kid with her, I met her she’s cute.” You say, watching him as his fingers run over the blade of the knife. The door to the room opening pulls your attention away. It’s Mark. Fucking Mark. Jack turns his attention away from you looking over at him.

You can see a phone in his hands. Jack nods, he walks towards you bringing the knife up to your face. He looks at you for a second before slashing your cheek. It burns like a hot rod has just been pressed up against your face. Your arms pop uncomfortably as your body tries to force them to your face but they’re tightly bound behind your back. You swear as your face heats up blood dripping down your cheek. It must be a deep cut since Jack also looks slightly concerned for a moment. 

“Get the phone ready.” Jack says. You look over at Mark as he fumbles with the phone in his hands, it’s your phone you recognise the case. Mark moves it in his hands so its horizontal. 

“Try to look sad for the camera.” Jack says as he moves round behind you. He grips your hair so you’re face is straight looking towards Mark.

“We want to make a trade. Every single piece of intel you have as well as the guarantee you will leave us alone. Then we promise to return this one to you and we won’t hurt another hair on her pretty little head.” Jack says as his confidence seems to grow. That’s what you’re here for, you’re a bargaining chip. You’re pretty much worthless. Maybe you still have chance to appeal to their humanity. If there is anything left. 

“You sound like a shitty terrorist organisation.” You say scoffing. Jack huffs as he presses the knife into your neck, gripping your hair tighter. It sends a shooting pain down your body, you can still feel blood pooling down your cheek and neck. 

“You have one hour to respond to the attached number or we kill her.” Jack says. Your stomach drops. You don’t want to die but you hold it together keeping your expression at least neutral. Jack lets go of your hair walking over to Mike. Mike leans in and you hear them re-watching the video. They really do sound like amateurs.

“Send it with the number.” Jack says. “As soon as it’s sent turn the phone back off.” You look over at Mike and Jack. You hang your head your cheek still burning, a shiver runs through you as the adrenaline wears off. You feel sick again thinking back to the safehouse. Maybe you should have fought.   

  —————————— 

The text comes through on Johnny and Simon’s phone. It’s a video, a video of you with Jack stood behind you pressing a knife into the side of your throat. Ghost looks over at Soap, his eyes are hard as he presses play on the video.

There is no audio from his phone but Ghost can tell it’s upsetting him. Soap looks up at him. It’s okay, keep it together. Is what Ghost wants to tell Soap, but he cant. He looks back down at his phone.

“What is it?” Price asks walking into the room. Ghost sighs handing his phone to Price. He plays the video, Gaz looks over Price’s shoulder as Jack’s voice fills the room. Ghost watches Soap tense when your voice comes through the phone speakers. Johnny has already tried to call you but the phone must be off again since the call doesn’t go through. It was too quick to trace they weren't prepared.

“Hang on a second, that number is one of the burner phones.” Price says walking away from the table over to a case, he pulls it open and sure enough there is a phone missing. 

“We can trace that, it has an additional tracker in it, it doesn’t matter if the phone is off.” Ghost wants to smile, but he keeps his eyes on Soap as Gaz comes over with a laptop. Price stands next to him showing him were to look. No one says anything as Ghost finds himself holding his breath.

“Harrow.” Gaz says as Price stands up straight. 

“Where’s that?” Soap asks.

“West, it’ll take us at least 40 minutes to get out there. That’s assuming she's in the same place as the burner phone.” Gaz says.

“How accurate is the tracker?” Ghost asks.

“Very.” Price replies. “Do they have any houses in that area? Any property they own or even have their names attached to?” 

“I can check it could take a while though.” Gaz says.

“Okay lets move we’ll drive out there, you can search on the way.” Price says. Everyone nods as he goes back over to the kit to grab the rest of the burner phones. Soap does not wait rushing out towards the garage. Ghost catches up to him pulling him in and locking the door behind him. 

“Look at me.” Simon demands, pulling Johnny’s chin. Johnny fights him so Simon has to resort to gripping his hair. He uses his free hand to pull his mask up and over his head while he presses himself up against Johnny pinning him to the wall. 

“Look at me.” Simon demands again following Johnny’s eyeline. Johnny is still fighting under Simon’s grasp. He presses his lips up to Johnny, he’s tense, he won’t kiss Simon back at first, eventually he relents. Johnny lets out a sigh as drops his shoulders and opens his mouth letting Simon in, he loosens his grip on Johnny. Simon breaks away looking in his husbands eyes, he’s never seen him like this before. Scared, angry, like he has nothing to lose. 

“We’re going to get her Johnny, look at me.” Simon says, still gripping his hair.

“We’re going to get her and bring her home safe.” 

“You don’t know that,” Johnny whispers barely audible, as he hangs his head. Simon sighs, he knows Johnny could be right, they don’t have control over the situation. 

“We’ll find her, and we’ll bring her home. But I need you to focus Soap. We need to, we’re no use to her if we can’t focus.” Simon says kissing him again on the forehead.

Johnny looks up at him and nods, the fear washed off his face and replaced with anger, determination. Simon lets out a small sigh, that’s the Johnny he wants to see. There is a knock on the door behind Johnny. Simon pulls his mask back down moving away to open the door.

“Ready?” Price asks with Gaz stood behind him. 

     

——————————  

“It’s been almost an hour and we’ve heard nothing.” You hear Jack say, he sounds angry. You face is stinging, they didn’t treat the wound but the bleeding seems to of slowed. All you can feel is the numbness in your feet and hands from the zipties and the pain in your cheek. You’re trying to listen to their conversation. Most of the time you can’t hear it. It’s only when Jack or Mark raise their voices you get snippets.

You look up at them. Jack looks nervous, Mark more put together, both stood with their arms crossed across the room. Jack’s been tapping his foot, or when he’s sat down you watch his leg bounce. Maybe he is worried about having to kill you.

This is starting to feel too familiar. At least in Syria the sleep deprivation was so bad you were basically in an asleep semi-conscious haze. At least after a few hours you got used to the routine, knew what to expect. At least Simon and Johnny were there. You swallow the lump the pit forming back in your stomach. You had no idea what Jack might do to you, you just have to stay strong. Do not give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset or panic. 

“Maybe you’re wrong.” Mark says. You don’t hear Jacks response but they both stand back up coming towards you. Mark is taking your phone out again. Great time for another video. 

“Shame you don’t have the budget for a makeup department.” You say as Jack grips your head again painfully pulling your head up. The knife is back at your throat only this time instead of the tip being pressed into the side of your neck the blade is resting across the front.

You shiver as the cold metal presses into your neck enough that if you were to move you would get cut. You swallow hard, the jolting of your head has opened your cheek wound again as you feel blood trickling down your face. You watch as Mark nods at Jack holding the phone in-front of you.

“Almost an hour, your clock is ticking.” Jack says. You feel the knife moved from your neck as it making it’s way to the wound on your face. He presses it in and you have to grit your teeth to stop a pained yelp escaping your body. You’re holding your breath as heat rushes to your face, the knife disturbing the wound enough it’s bleeding profusely again. 

“I said I wouldn’t hurt another hair on her head but I’m getting impatient!” Jack snaps, his confidence seems to be growing even if he doesn’t show it when the camera is off. 

“Contact the number to arrange a swap, you have an extra half hour before I start cutting pieces off.” He spits. Mark puts the camera down and Jack releces your head going over to watch it. You hear the playback as they nod at each other.

He’s gone from killing you to cutting pieces off. You start going round your body in your head. Which parts you think you’ll miss the least. Maybe your ears, toes, you want to keep your fingers. You can’t be a nurse without functioning hands.   

    

 ——————————  

Another video another threat. A new time, he’s given them an extra half an hour. 

“Take a left up here.” Gaz says he’s in the front with Price leading the way to the burner phones ping. It almost looks like they’re being driven into an industrial estate. It’s dark bar a few warehouses with 24/7 service. 

“Keep going it’s through that gate 500 meters.” Gaz says pointing at the only open gate on the road leading into what looks like a van rental place. 

“What is this place?” Price asks.

“The Masons own it, it’s a van rental, since 2020.” Soap says looking up from his laptop. There is one car in the whole parking lot Price drives up and parks behind it. There is one of those one story prefab buildings which looks like the main office, assuming there is someone here the likely hood is they’re in that building. Price kills the engine, and everyone gets out. Soap opens the boot as we grab our weapons.

Price doesn’t need to say anything, it’s automatic. He leads with Soap and Gaz following while Ghost takes the rear. There doesn’t seem to be any lights on in the building but the windows also look boarded up. Price makes it to the door Soap takes the other side and Ghost moves into position to kick it down. Price nods at Ghost who takes a breath the kicks the door right by the handle.

It swings open and light floods out. Price, Gaz and Soap all pile into the tiny building, Ghost hears shouting as Price pushes a man to the floor. Ghost closes the door behind him as he enters quickly checking the other end of the building. It’s small just a waiting area, a toilet and a few desks. The rest of the place is clear and Ghost comes back to Price helping the man up to his feet. 

“Let’s have a chat.” Price asks, forcing him to sit down in a chair, his hands ziptied to his back. Gaz goes over to help Price secure his feet while Soap and Ghost keep their weapons trained on him. The man shakes his head.

“Harry.” Soap says. “I recognise him from the funereal one of Chloe’s brothers.”

“Okay, Harry you know what we want and if you give us what we want we won’t kill you how does that sound for a deal?” Price says stepping in-front of him. 

“Go to hell! You might as well kill me, if Jack finds out I’ve snitched I’ll be dead anyway!” Harry shouts. Price sighs looking over at Ghost for a few seconds. This was going to get messy. 

“Let’s try that again. Where is she?” Price asks getting up in his face. Harry doesn’t say anything, Ghost goes to take a step forward as Price moves out the way but Soap beats him too it. Before anyone can say anything Soap thrusts a knife in Harry’s thigh. He screams thrashing in the chair as Soap goes back to stand next to Ghost, Price looks at him approvingly before going back over to Harry. 

“Tell us where they’re hiding!” Price shouts, over Harry’s moans and whimpers. Ghost can see tears running down his cheeks. Soap missed his femoral artery, he would have bled out by now and they would have nothing. Ghost looked over at Soap his expression hard, he has barely said a word since they left the house. Harry has stopped screaming as Price holds his head up barking more questions at him. Ghost knows they can’t wait too long, this interrogation needs to give them something to work with. 

“Harrow.” Harry says through a sob. “There’s a house in Harrow that’s where she is.” Price picks up the burner phone from the floor. 

“Let’s go.” Price says. Heading for the door.

“What about me!” Harry calls. Price doesn’t say anything as Gaz follows him out Soap is still staring at Harry.

“Let’s go Soap.” Ghost says lacing his voice with authority so he’ll listen. He watches him turn away and wait’s until Soap is out the door on Gaz’s heals before Ghost turns off the lights and closes the door behind him.  

 ——————————  

You’re alone in the room now. Jack and Mark both stepped out awhile ago. It feels like it’s been forever when you have no concept of time and your body is in pain. You’ve tried pulling at your restraint’s even played with the idea of breaking your thumb to try and get out.

You have no idea if it would work though of if it was one of those stupid movie tropes. Besides these bindings are tight, the lack of circulation to your hands and feet has you a little concerned. The gash on your cheek which had been reopened with a knife so you're basically guaranteed to get an infection.

You’re still triaging your body when Mark and Jack burst into the room. They’re carrying weapons. Something must have happened or maybe your time is up.

“What about Brian!?” Mark asks. Jack doesn’t say anything. Who the fuck is Brain? 

“Get in the corner.” Jack orders as he comes over to you. You feel the barrel of a gun pressed up against the back of your head. Jack seems to change his mind though pulling out his pistol pressing it to your temple. You hear shots, they sound distant but close at the same time. This house must be massive, you don’t know which house you’re in it’s one you’ve never been to.

Your heart picks up, they’re here. This is going to be the final stand off, this could be the end. At least he’ll shoot you. It will be quick. Mark ducks in the far right corner of the room. The door swings inwards, they won’t see him right away. There are voices now, you think you hear Johnny, you almost want to call out to him, but you bite your tongue.

Jack is using your body to shield him, you’re almost shaking as you hear the voices get closer and closer. Before you have time to think about how you can help the the door swings open. Price walks in first, then Johnny, then Gaz then Simon.

Jack grips your hair pressing the barrel of the gun harder into your temple. You let out a sigh, you don’t know if it’s relief or not but they're here. Before you can warn them Mark is already out the corner, they’re surrounded. But there are only 2 of them. Simon and Gaz spin round to train their weapons on Mark while Price and Johnny have their weapons held up at you. Or more the man behind you pulling your hair so tight you think he might rip it off. 

“Let her go Jack it doesn’t have to end this way.” Price says. “You can still walk out here alive no one has to die.” 

“All I wanted was for you to leave us alone.” Jack says scoffing. “You caused this, you all caused this.” You want Johnny to look at you his expression is twisted into something you’ve never seen before, anger, he looks so angry it makes you feel sick. You watch Simon’s back, his foot moves to touch Johnny so their heel to heel. 

“You got yourself involved in a whole world of bother.” Price says. “Thats not our fault.” 

“It is!” Jack snaps pulling your head back sharply, you hear it click. 

“All I want is to provide for my family. What do you not understand about that! Why can’t you just leave us alone!” His voice cracks at the end of the sentence. He’s becoming unhinged, he could shoot you at any point and be over with it. 

“You can’t provide for you’re family if you’re dead. Let her go and we’ll let you both walk out of here.” Price says. 

“I want all the intel you gathered.” Jack says. It’s a negotiation now. Price nods reaching into his vest and pulling out some keys. He holds them up clearly so Jack can see. 

“There’s a car outside with everything we have.” Price shakes the keys. It’s almost like you can feel Jack thinking weighing up his options.

Then everything happens so fast, the keys are thrown in the air.

There is a shot, then another.

You feel a pain in the side of your head as Jacks grip leaves your hair.

You hear shouting and see Johnny running towards you. There’s a ringing in your ear as you feel blood running down the side of your head. Where you shot?

You watch as Johnny flicks open a knife cutting the zipties on your feet. You can’t hear what he’s saying the buzzing is still loud in your ears. He moves behind you as you see Simon get up from next to Marks body.

As your wrists are freed your hand goes up to the side of your head. You feel warm blood but it’s not your head that’s been hit, it’s your ear. The ringing subsides and you hear Jack moaning he’s not dead. Price comes over to you placing his hand on your shoulder while he looks you over. He reaches into a pouch on his vest pulling out some gauze. 

“You okay?” You think he asks. You nod as he presses the gauze to your ear. You hold it for him feeling the blood quickly soak the bandage. You hear zipties and turn to see Johnny pulling them closed around Jack’s wrists. He’s laid on his back with Johnny’s knee on his legs, he’s been hit in the shoulder, you can see the blood pooling on the floor.

Price walks round to him as he hands you more gauze and you look over at Simon and Gaz. Simon walks over to you his hand resting on your shoulder for a second as he goes over to join Price. You breathe out a massive sigh of relief as Johnny bends down in front of you.

“You okay lass?” Johnny asks taking the gauze out your hand and patting your cheek wound, you wince as he presses but you try not to move. All you can do is nod still trying to process what just happened.

You hear Jack shouting, looking past Johnny you see Gaz standing off to the side of the door. Johnny stands up and smiles down at you his hand rubbing your good cheek. You smile back at him.

You’re about to get up when you hear another shot. You look over at Gaz turning around, another shot rings out. You see someone in the doorway fall to the floor.

You look back at Johnny. His expression has changed, there is fear in his eyes. You don’t have time to think as he falls to the floor. 

“Johnny!” You scream pushing yourself off the chair, your legs give way under you as you fall to your knees next to him. You see the blood, he’s been hit. You’re already pulling his vest off when Gaz comes over. 

“Watch the door!” You hear someone shout, you think it’s Price. Gaz stops in his tracks and heads back to the door. You pull Johnny’s shirt up. There are multiple wounds, you see the shrapnel stuck in the front of his vest.

He was shot from behind, this is a through and through.

The vest fractured the bullet, then stopped it from hitting you.

You feel sick. You look over at Gaz watching the door. Simon bends down on the other side of Johnny. You look up at him tears streaming down your face. You force yourself to focus. You can save him you have to save him. 

“Give me your medical pouch!” You shout at Simon. He nods and hands it to you. You’re not thinking about what’s going on around you. You’re pulling on gloves watching the colour drain from Johnny’s face. You hear Price talking, Simon get’s to his feet, there’s radio noises, a dial tone. You press gauze into Johnny’s wounds. You can still hear Jack shouting. 

“You’re not dying Johnny not today!” You shout letting the adrenaline pulse through your body your own pain forgotten about. You just need to get this bleeding under control.

You’re not dying Johnny not today… 

Next

[daredevils-advocate]

Hey who wants a most likely wildly incorrect theory based on nothing?

No one? Too bad.

Okay so I don't have the brainpower to actually explain this very well (as usual) but I noticed that in the coat of arms thing that the qr codes led to, it's got wrinkles and folds in it, and while it's harder to see because the gold is metallic, the green has a clear fabric weave texture

Now this leads me to believe that my theory that it's a tapestry or flag of some sort is correct.

Now here's the part that you're gonna have to hear me out for a second.

So obviously this is gonna be a House vs Hosts thing, and it seems like the flamingo is supposed to represent a vessel, if not Vessel himself, a Feathered Host. Meanwhile they've also been calling House Veridian the "Unvanquished House", leading me to believe in this lore there may have been other houses that have fallen, or at the very least they've been resisting the Hosts.

These new announcement videos we've been picking apart? That metal thing we can't figure out? I think it's a curtain rod.

And it's positioned over what seems to be a golden fire. If I'm correct about what both of these things are, what if the completed image is the burning of a House Veridian flag?

[rottenpumpkin13]

Someone makes a hashtag for Sephiroth to be the next president of Midgar and it's spreading like wildfire and people are actually wanting to ask if he could be a candidate in the future.

Angeal: I can't believe it. #SephirothForPresident was a joke, and now people are seriously asking if he can run. The internet's wild.

Genesis: This is absurd. I recite one poem in public, and I'm labeled dramatic. He stands there looking like a walking silver curtain rod, and suddenly he's presidential material? This man doesn't know one thing about politics.

Sephiroth: If I were president, I'd dissolve Shinra's monopoly on Mako, implement environmental reforms, streamline the military chain of command, and enforce stricter ethical oversight in scientific divisions.

Angeal: Impressive. So you've put a lot of thought into this.

Sephiroth: Ever since I met the President at age twelve and realized my entire life was being dictated by a geriatric man who smelled of cigars and whiskey.

Genesis: Oh, but you need a running mate. And if the president's out of the picture, no one else would dare step up.

Sephiroth: Naturally. And there's only one person I'd trust with that position. Someone capable, intelligent, and responsible.

Genesis, blushing: Oh, Sephiroth—

*Zack walks by*

Sephiroth: Zack, be my running mate.

*Zack starts jogging in place*

Zack: Sure! I didn't know you were into exercise!

Genesis:

[xislyns]

₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 ﹆ֹ . LOVER . ♡ ⋆ 🐈‍⬛ ࿔ *

<<taylor swift x bluelock>>

Prompt masterlist ! : ᶻ 𝘇 🍙 ⋅

Isagi yoichi x F! Reader

HC's + MINIFIC

You’d always thought falling in love would be like a rollercoaster of emotions. Screaming from rooftops and Loud declarations in the rain.But somehow with Isagi, it’s something softer.

It’s the way he always orders an extra drink at the café and says, “Dunno, thought you might want one,” (lets be fr he hadmemorized your favorite drinks from months ago.)

isagi who always walks beside you during late nights, his hoodie draped over your shoulders, even though he is shivering himself.

he is totally an act of service guy! he believes actions speak louder than words, so he always try to prove that he is the one who deserves ur full attention!

Hes the type of bf that makes you feel like you have been together for years,even though youve only been together for a couple of months

isagi is the definition of the act of noticing and a total clueless gentleman!

expect to always have to be there during his games tho, i bet he would sulk and blame you for his bad plays if you didnt show up ><

It’s when he leans into your touch without even thinking about it, forehead nudging into your palm like he’s always been yours.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ’til January”

𖦹✦⁺◟⁎⁺. You never took the Christmas lights down. They’re still wrapped around the curtain rod, even though it’s already March. its just that neither of you mentions them anymore, They just exist there now, warm and familiar.

“I like these lights,” he says suddenly

You smile, closing your eyes. “yea it really helps make the room more cozy”

Later on, you’re brushing your teeth when he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his forehead between your shoulder blades. You can see him in the mirror messy hair, sweater falling off one shoulder.

“Can I go where you go?”

𖦹✦⁺◟⁎⁺. "can i go, where you go?" he asks

You blink, toothbrush halfway to your mouth.

“I mean like, Next season after my match, When you go on your family trip I want to be there, With you. Can i ?”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. You don’t even have to think about it.

“of course you can my love, my family has been dying to meet you,” you say.

He smiles, and it’s the kind that sinks into your heart and stays there.

“I’ve loved you three summers now, honey, but I want ’em all”

𖦹✦⁺◟⁎⁺. Three summers have passed since you both met. This summer smells like sunscreen , icecream and late-night walks through the Tokyo streets. He drags you to a night market one evening, hood pulled low, hand tight in yours like he’s not ready to let go.

“Remember how awkward I was when we met?” he asks

“You still are,” you reply, laughing.

"hey im not that bad anymore!" he retaliated against your words

𖦹✦⁺◟⁎⁺. One night, while lying down tangled in the thin silk sheets of ur bed. he asks, “Do you think we’ll get married?”

You hum sleepily against his chest. “Are you asking?”

“Not yet,” he murmurs. “But one day.”

You lift your head just enough to meet his eyes. “And when that day comes, i’ll say yes.”

And that was all he needed to hear.

“All’s well that ends well to end up with you”

𖦹✦⁺◟⁎⁺. you’re dancing barefoot in the kitchen. No music. Just the sound of your breath and the city outside the window. His hand is on your back, your fingers interlocked with eachother and resting at the back of his neck, and everything was still. everything was safe.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “All’s well that ends well… to end up with you.”

You close your eyes and enjoy the moment you both are in.

Because loving Yoichi Isagi never felt like falling for you.

It felt like landing.

it always felt like home.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ ･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚

i rlly hoped you liked reading thiss!! , i am currently rlly obssesed with bluelock ! so pls send me asks or reqs.

i feel like i rlly like this taylor swift song prompt thing! i might make a one piece version of this when i mdone with this bllk one!

- ⊹ ࣪ ˖ . islynn 2025 . ⋆ 🩶 ˚｡

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ ･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 51

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: 50 chapters?!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You cross your arms, trying to comfort yourself as you wait. The front door opens and the only harbinger of your visitors are their footsteps. The grim pall of the house swallows them up as they shuffle over the doormat.

You don’t look over as their figures appear as shadowy blurs in the edge of your vision. You’re too humiliated to face your guests. Not truly yours, but Loki’s. Like everything else; this house, the very couch you sit on, the clothes you wear. Isn’t that what he’d only just berated you for? Taking it all so ungratefully.

“Darling,” Frigga’s the first to speak as she approaches, almost sheepishly, “my, I’d say it’s lovely to see you both but you look dreadful.”

You wince as she nears and shrink down, bending your legs as you long to curl into a ball. You hug your knees and curl your shoulders. She hovers over you, turning to speak to the others.

“You must open the curtains, it’s awfully gloomy in here,” she demands.

Loki mutters but at a grunt from his father, he acquisces. You stare at the black pants as he tears open the drapes, the rod ringing with his efforts. Another figure looms close. Odin shifts and places his hand on the armrest behind your shoulders.

“I see all is in a state of fine order,” Odin proclaims dryly, “you have this poor thing hanging from the troughs–”

“Father,” Loki sneers as he faces the room again. He steps forward, trying to tidy his wild curls, made even more defiant by his neglect. You notice his attire; his shirt is untucked and clashes with his tan trousers. “I will not be lectured.”

“Oh, dear, look at her face,” Frigga lowers herself to sit on the edge of the sofa and touches your arm kindly, “her dressings need changing.”

You avert your eyes and bite down on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten your nose and the peeling bandages. All that wasn’t as dire as the walls.

“Mm, and that isn’t my fault, mother. It isn’t I who would injure her thus. Rather your golden child,” Loki spits. “If you’ve come to argue the point further, I haven’t the time to hear it.”

“Son,” Odin girds, “do not rile yourself with presumptions. We’ve come to make sure you are well, as any decent parents might.”

“Hm, because you’ve always been so eager to visit, father,” he scoffs.

“Eh, Loki,” Frigga squeezes your arm before she stands again, “we thought to share some news to you. In person as it were. You wouldn’t answer the phone but we do believe you deserve to have it straight from us.”

“Oh, what is it now? Are we celebrating the solstice?” Loki folds his arms and lifts his chin, “you can check us off as not attending, thank you.”

“Now, don’t be an ass,” Odin growls, “if you would hear us, you might not have the urge.”

“Why should I listen to you, eh? Did you listen to me? Did you hear me when I walked in bruised to the gills? Did you hear me over that lout’s lies?” Loki snarls, “you made no move to stop me going but here you are, pouting and begging forgiveness. 

“Well, let me make it clear, you and that cretin you call your eldest son, will not entangle yourselves in another of my marriages. It will not happen. I told you that morning and I meant it. He is no brother of mine and if you continue to pander to his misdeeds, then you will count yourself two children, not three.”

You tweak a brow and tilt your head as his rant swirls over you. Marriage? Surely, he only misspoke.

“Would you listen?” Odin’s voice booms, echoing around the room as he steps around the couch and punches his palm. “We do count only two children; you and Hela.”

“Right,” Loki says unconvinced, “certainly, you will do your best not to let me share a table with him again. We can pretend nothing happened. That he did not accost my wife. Just as before, it is under the carpet as we stomp it into submission.”

“Wife?” Frigga murmurs in confusion and glances at you. You feel her gaze but don’t meet it. You’re just as confused.

“I mean it,” Odin insists and turns to look at you, “I am ashamed that my son would hurt you, dear. Brute as he is, I cast him out. He is banned from the house and wiped from my ledgers. Should you wish it, I would gladly testify to his guilt.”

You don’t reply. Which son does he mean? The one who chased you through the night or the one locking you in the dark?

“Thor is not welcome in this family anymore. If you hadn’t run away…” Odin faces Loki again.

“Oh, forgive me for my skepticism, father,” Loki grimaces, “you’ve not exactly earned a lot of trust from me–”

“Nor you me,” Odin counters.

“You never gave me a chance,” Loki hisses, “very well then, thank you, oh, great father, for practising an ounce of good judgment.”

“Boy,” Odin wags his finger at his son as he steps closer.

“Boy?” Loki exclaims, “get out. Now.”

“Loki,” Frigga screeches, “enough. We’ve come all the way here to apologise to you and… her, and you are being insensible. Would you hear us?”

Loki rolls his eyes. He keeps one arm across his chest and bends the other to flutter his fingers dismissively, “you kept him in my life. You begged me to look past his slights for years and refused to see them until someone got hurt.”

“Yes, we were neglectful. Willfully blind,” Frigga says sadly, peeking back at you, “seeing you that morning, and now, the bruises, and her… we… we are very sorry and we can understand that it might be too late for all this but we only want to be heard.”

Loki is quiet, roiling as he breathes loudly. He swallows and sniffs, “yes, you should look at her and see what he did to her.” His lip twitches, “and if I had not been there, imagine what he would have done–”

You close your eyes as you feel a weight over you, feel the suffocating heat, hear Thor’s sinister tone, ‘little maid’.

“Stop!” You throw your hands up as your eyes snap open, “please stop, I don’t want to think about it.”

“Oh, dear,” Frigga spins and once more rests herself on the couch’s edge, “you don’t have to. Please, you’re safe. He won’t bother you again. I’ll be sure of it.”

You knot your fingers together and twist until your knuckles hurt. You can’t look at her, at any of them. You shake your head and shrug.

“As you can see, she is not ready for company,” Loki asserts.

“What I see is she’s being shrouded away in this crypt,” Frigga rebuffs, “she requires sunshine. She needs healing, not paranoia.”

“You don’t know what we’ve been through,” Loki accuses, “how can you know what she needs?”

“I have eyes,” Frigga snips, “darling,” she speaks to you, “would you like some tea in the garden? Just you, I wouldn’t want to infringe.”

You gulp and rub your neck. You nod, “yes.”

“See?” Frigga pets your knee kindly before she stands again, “I won’t tread upon your toes, son, you get her the tea and see her to the garden.” She sidles aside to stand with her husband, “and then you will explain to me this whole marriage business.”

You glance over at Loki, the same question nipping at your ears. Was he confused? Why did he say all that? Marriage, wife? No, prisoner and warden, that’s what it truly is.

✨

Slowly the doom recedes. The warmth of the sun beams down as you keep your finger hooked in the handle of the tea cup. You let the steaming brew go cold as your eyes devour the scenery. The greens, the violets, the indigos, and pinks. Colours all around.

You suck in deep breaths of the spring air, tasting the last dregs of dew and the floating pollen. You hear the council of sparrows hiding in the bushes and watch the pair of doves bobbing across the grass. Bees buzz between the blooming stems and insects flit back and forth through the air. The seasonal renewal is underway as a whole new world awakens.

Beneath the serenity, there is fear. This won’t last. This is just a brief respite from your desolation. A flicker of light in the dark.

So you bask in it as much as you can, for as long as you can. You can’t help but peek over at the french doors and wonder about what’s happening behind them. What is being said? Are Frigga and Odin still there? Is Loki still angry?

You cup your chin and take a sip. This is all you ever wanted. You only wish he would have listened to you. Why must someone else talk sense into him? Why can’t he just hear you?

Your vision hazes as you drift into the peaceful hue. The spring swallows you up and mutes your worries. You cling to that moment, knowing the end will come sooner than later.

The doors open and pierce the spring soliloquy. You look over as Loki steps out. His shirt is tucked in and he’s tried to comb his hair. Still, he looks out of sorts. His eyes are circled darkly and his cheek tics as his jaw clenches.

He watches you as he nears the table, standing across from you as he extends his long fingers to the iron surface. He takes a breath and looks around. He retracts his hand to rest on the back of the chair.

“May I?” He asks.

His request surprises you. That he would even want permission. After all, this is his home, all of this is allotted to you at his whim.

“Sure,” you sit back and let go of the teacup.

He drags the chair out and lowers himself. He bends his arms over the table and his head swivels again, as if searching for something. He clears his throat and turns straight. He stares at you as you peer down at the table.

“It’s beautiful out,” he comments, “the tulips are coming in.”

You nod, “yeah, they’re pretty.”

He exhales and shifts in the chair. He taps his fingertips then weaves his fingers through each other. He stills his fidgeting.

“How is your tea?”

You look down at the cup, mostly untouched. You raise your eyes to meet him and purse your lips.

“It’s fine,” you answer, “what’s going on?”

He circles his thumbs around each other and pushes his shoulders up before forcing the tension out, “I thought I would… come enjoy the garden with you, pet.”

“Oh,” you utter.

“Oh,” he echoes staunchly. “Unless, I am disturbing you?”

You shake your head, “I thought you wanted me to go inside…”

He frowns and lowers his chin, “I…” he begins then unclasps his hands and sits straight. He rests his elbows on the armrests and his cheek strains, “I want you to be safe.”

You nod and look at your lap as you think, “your parents said Thor is gone.”

“Yes, so he has been cast out. For how long, I can’t be certain,” he sighs, “but he is not my only worry.”

“What else—”

“If I’d not discovered your escape, you would’ve fallen and hurt yourself worse.”

“Loki, I… I’m sorry but I couldn’t–”

“And you do not eat when I bring you food. You hardly sleep.”

“What about you?” You toss back as you raise your head.

His lips thin, “yes, what about me. I am just as guilty in all this, I see that now.”

You’re quiet as you consider his admission. It’s a rare moment. Not exactly victory, but a consolation. As much as you can hope for.

“I appreciate all you have done but I… don’t want to be a burden anymore,” you say, “if that’s how you feel about me, I think we’d both be better off if I left.”

He goes rigid and his throat tightens, “pet…”

“Or maybe I could just be the maid again. We could go back to that. That would be okay.”

He huffs and hangs his head. He brings his fingertips together as he seems to argue with himself. Slowly, he lifts his head, “no, that simply won’t do.”

Your face falls, “please don’t lock me up again.”

Your eyes gloss as you pout, begging him wordlessly. He winces as his mouth slants, one way then the other. He mulls on your plea.

He tilts his head one way then the other, stretching out his neck. He slips his elbows off the armrest and grips the chair, pushing himself to his feet. He rolls his shoulders straight and rounds the table. He stops beside you and lowers himself down to a knee. You watch him, confused.

He takes your hand and draws it over the side of the chair. He holds it in his, stroking it as he peers up at you.

“You cannot be a burden or the maid, and you certainly may not leave,” he says, “you are going to be my wife.”

You blink. You’re not sure you heard him right. He squeezes your hand and you look down at his grip.

“Loki?” You babble.

“I haven’t picked a ring, I’m sorry,” he pulls your hand to him, leaning in to kiss it, petting it, “but perhaps you might help in that.” He puts his other knee down and moves even closer, “we will have a lot of planning to do, won’t we, darling?”

He angles to lean his head against your arm, keeping his hand on yours. You’re paralysed. He’s proposing to you but there isn’t any room for your rejection. Like all other things, it’s a command. You have to keep yourself from answering, ‘yes, Mr. Laufeyson.’

You look down at his dark tresses and let out the breath racked beneath your ribs, “I’ve never been to a wedding.” The statement is hollow and numb. You don’t know what else to say.

He chuckles and lifts his head to grin up at you, “well, how exciting that you’re first will be your own.”