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threestarsinline · 3 months

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Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part II)

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.

Word Count: 15.5K (total of 29.2K)

Category: More fluff for you all (yes, more jsjs), (plus slight angst related to mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers and typical Gotham villain stuff)

Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)

Author’s note: Well, here you go babes, the second (and final) part to what once was just a one-shot but that became so long that I had to split it up (despite how much it broke my heart to do so). Hope you enjoy it!

<Part I

After that night at the dinner (that you didn’t ever want to end, though of course, sadly, it had to), everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.

Except that now, while you scanned the children’s books, as you knew what they were for now, you asked how the kids were doing.

Except that now, a lot of times when he came in the afternoons, Jason stayed in the bookshop with you until you closed, keeping you company.

Except that now, sometimes Jason brought food with him and had lunch with you.

Except that now, you texted each other practically everyday, carrying on conversations from the bookshop and talking about everything.

Except that now, your heart, instead of giving little jumps, it run whole laps every time you saw him.

And right now, you’re buzzing with nerves.

Because you don’t know where the line stands anymore, having become blurrier and blurrier with each smile, every longing look and every soft touch on his arm or the small of your back when you pass each other a lot closer than what is necessary.

And now you’re bouncing behind the counter, wondering if what you are about to do today is too much.

When that white streak that you love so much makes its way through the door, you can hardly wait to show him what you’ve found. Jason, like always, greets you with a smile and goes directly to the counter, not bothering with excuses anymore.

“There you are!” You exclaim, barely containing your excitement.

“Hi to you too.” He chuckles at your warm welcome as he finishes approaching the counter.

“I found it.” You say with a grin. Surprise makes its way across Jason’s features, immediately knowing what you were talking about.

“You did?” He asks in disbelief. You nod proudly and from under the counter, you slip out the third and last installment of a book series about the adventures of Daisy the giraffe. In the store you only had the first and the second one and the kids loved them. They had read both several times but were unable to see how the story ended since the books were quite old and very hard to find.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” Jason continues as he takes the book from your hands that are extending it to him. “You’re amazing, Y/N.” He looks back up at you with shining eyes. “How did you do it?” You shrug your shoulders.

“I just tracked it down.” You answer. The truth was that it had taken a lot of time and effort to find it but the kids’ joy and how happy you felt right now made it all worth it.

“You did a lot more than that, believe me. The kids are going to love it.” Jason says, glancing back at the book and then at you once again, his eyes full of admiration. “Thank you.” He adds almost breathlessly.

You nod in acknowledgement with a bright smile.

Jason had faced a lot of impossible situations during his life. Hardships that proved difficult to endure. From his days in the streets, to his Robin training and to his patrols as Red Hood.

But right now Jason feared that he may have found his greatest enemy. A problem hard to solve. A feat that will not be easy to achieve.

These damn braids.

Jason’s eyebrows are furrowed and he clenches his jaw in concentration. Despite having asked for help and Cass and Steph having taught him, he still was having trouble french braiding Lily’s hair.

He was in the area and decided to check on the kids, even though they didn't have a reading scheduled. After greeting the few that were there, Lily grabbed his hand and monopolized him.

She had asked him a few times to do her hair and he had tried but without much knowledge it had proved to be a disaster. At least now, even though it still felt a bit like an uphill climb, it seemed that his new skills were getting him somewhere.

They were sitting on some crates on the floor, Lily in front of him playing with her teddy and telling him his latest adventures as Batbear, making him chuckle at her great imagination.

He was working on the second braid when suddenly Lily fell into silence, deep in thought. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she finally spoke up.

“Do you like Y/N?” Lily asked, with the blunt curiosity characteristic of children her age.

Jason’s hands freeze on her blonde hair.

“Why do you ask?” Jason asks back nervously, afraid to give a clear response, as if after hearing it, Lily would run over to wherever you were to tell you. But she just shrugs her shoulders, lifting Batbear in her arms and examining his button-like eyes.

“She’s nice and funny.”

“Yeah, she is.” He coincides while slowly continuing to work on the braid.

“I like her. The other day she brought us all cookies from a bakery. They were delicious.” Lily continues, her voice acquiring a dreamy tone at the delightful memory.

Jason’s hands freeze once again. He had no idea you had done that. You hadn’t mentioned it to him. You had gone out of your way to buy treats for the kids and come here on your own on a non reading day.

Jason stands still on his seat, his gaze lost and thoughts clouded with you. He didn’t think that he could admire you more than what he already did, yet here he was, even more entranced by your kind nature.

“So you like her then?” Lily insists. She says it more in an innocent way rather than in the romantic sense, like when you meet a friend of a friend and they asked you if you liked hanging out with them. Just as Lily finishes her question, he ties up her braid and Lily turns her head, feeling him finish his work.

She catches sight of her reflection on a dirty window and lets out a delightful squeal that makes Jason jump in surprise. In an instant, the little girl is on her feet and admiring her hair from side to side, Batbear still in her grip.

Jason grimaces when he sees how the top of one of the braids is already starting to loosen and worries about what Lily will say. He still clearly needs more practice. But then-

“I love it!” Lily screams and Jason grins at her happiness. Ha, success. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She says in quick succession in a way in which the words jumble together and turns to give him a bone crushing hug, surprising for how little she is, and a sounding kiss on his cheek.

Then Lily sets off running, probably to show her friends her new hair, laughing all the way, completely forgetting about her earlier question. Jason can’t help but laugh under his breath too. He loves those kids.

He stands up and shakes his hands over his jeans to get rid of any possible dirt from the crate.

“Yeah, I like her very much.” Jason whispers, answering Lily’s question. His thoughts, as they usually tended to do, drifting back to you.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You ask him another day when he enters the bookshop with a black eye. He opens his mouth to answer but you interrupt him. “Let me guess, boxing again?” You say with eyebrows raised in a playful manner so that he doesn’t need to worry about a fake excuse. But he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not this time, no.”

“No? Impossible.”

“Okay so, turns out that Damian, for whatever reason that I still cannot comprehend, threw his phone at Tim. But Tim ducked and guess who was passing behind him in that exact moment just peacefully enjoying his bowl of cereal?”

“No way.” You say breathlessly, a smile already pulling at your lips and a laugh making its way up your throat.

He nods and sees you put a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your laughter. The sight makes him smile, despite the fact that the movement pulls at the swelling of his cheek under his eye, making him wince slightly at the pain.

“Sorry.” You say, failing miserably in containing your laughter.

“It’s okay, go ahead. It is funny.”

You then finally burst out laughing and Jason feels his heart swell, the sound having become his favorite in the whole world, like listening to his favorite song. And he can’t help but join in your laughter too.

“Though I did drop my precious bowl of cereal.” He adds with an exaggerated pout and you laugh even more, making him feel a radiating warmth that not even the sun could equal to.

“Oh, poor Jason.” You say.

As your laughters finally slowly die down, you round the counter and lift your hands to hold the sides of his face, turning him to see the eye better in the light.

“Are you okay though?” You ask in a low voice, serious now, almost like a whisper.

And with your hands holding him, Jason thinks that he will always be okay, no matter if he's drowning or bleeding to death.

“Yeah.” He whispers back.

Were you this close just a second before? He can clearly see how the lights of the bookshop reflect in your eyes now.

“Did you put something over it?” He nods. You tilt your head, not sure to believe him with how he hadn’t really treated the wounds on his knuckles that one time.

“Some ice.” You manage to coax out of him and you shake your head and click your tongue in slight disappointment.

“Not enough.” You say, and just like that one time, with the bookshop empty except for you two, you guide him into the break room by his hand, sit him down and bring the first aid kit. You take an ointment from it and stand in front of him. You look down at him, asking for permission with your eyes and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

One of your hands takes hold of his face to tilt him to the light and the tips of your fingers on the other start applying the ointment softly to help with the swelling.

Jason’s hands twitch to place themselves on your hips to bring you even closer but he grabs his own knees instead. He doesn’t have the right to do something like that. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend.

No matter how much he might want to.

So he contents himself with looking into your eyes that are concentrated on his wound.

He can feel the warmth of your body seeping into his with how close you are and he can’t help but close his eyes to savor it even further.

He has never felt safer.

The silence of the intimate moment is deafening in the best of ways. He would gladly stay like this forever.

But then, just like a crack of thunder, cold surrounds him once again as you whisper that you’re done and retract your hands from him. You wash your hands in the faucet of the kitchen part of the break room and Jason follows your every movement hypnotized.

“Better?” You say as you return and sit in front of him.

With you? Always.

“Yeah.” He breathes out and he isn’t lying. He can already feel the swelling going down. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.

It’s like you don’t see how much you do for him, and not just for tending his wounds. Just everything in general. Your laugh. Your long conversations. And it kills him. It kills him that you may not know just how much he cares about you.

And it kills him even more that he doesn’t have the courage to tell you.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” You say and quickly get up to grab a heavy looking bag from the corner before coming back. “I went to my parents’ last weekend and I got these books that I thought the kids might like.” You start as you take the contents of the bag out and put them on the table for him to see.

He notices how you worry your lip and how your shoulders tense and he wonders why you’re suddenly like that. He then looks towards the several books displayed on the table in front of you two.

“Most of them are bedtime stories. My mom used to read them to me.” You start and then your small posture and uncertain tone clicks. You’re shy about this. Almost ashamed that he might think that this is something ridiculous.

As if he could think anything negative about you.

“They’re not much but I loved them when I was little.” You continue and as you tell him more about them, he can see with how much fondness you remember them and how excited you are to talk about them. The insecurity seems to leave your whole body as you get lost in your explanation of the books.

Two of them are quite thick and you tell him that they have several different stories, from a prince and a princess that could only meet at sunrise or sunset since one of them could only be in the light of the moon and the other in the light of the sun. And that if they were exposed to the other light, due to a spell, they would die; to a story about a mother reading to his son.

Another couple of them follow the adventures of a mole at his house and at the beach and the books include a small mole cut-out that you move across the pages to make him follow the story. Another one is about a boy and his dog that go on a great adventure thanks to a magical blue balloon.

As he listens intently, he marvels at you. You really were the most thoughtful, kind and beautiful person that he had ever met and he couldn’t get enough of it.

He has to resist the urge to close the space between you and kiss you right there and then. But he decides against it. He liked how everything was going with you and he didn’t want to ruin it by suddenly rushing and risking everything.

Aside from the fact that you still didn’t know about a part of his life that he’s sure would make you push him away and send you running. Even though every time that he thinks about it, he’s considering telling you more and more, wanting to be completely sincere and honest with you, knowing how much you valued that.

“Sorry, that was a lot. This probably was a bad idea.” You say after you finish explaining all the books. You’re about to start picking them up to put them back in the bag when you feel his hand enclosing over one of your own, softly stopping you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“No. These are great, Y/N. I love them and I’m sure that the kids will too. Thank you for sharing them.” He says looking into your eyes. You were sharing with him and the kids a very personal part of you that you held very close to your heart. And he wanted you to know how much he appreciated it.

He also gives your hand a small squeeze to show you how much he means his words and to encourage you. After a moment, you smile and nod.

“Tell me more.” He says.

At his genuine petition, you can’t do anything but carry on, your radiant smile matching his. “Okay.”

It had been a long time since you had played any of these types of games. But you really do not remember being so bad at it.

After the reading that day, the kids had suggested (or rather insisted) on playing hide and seek.

So here you were, running around the playground trying to find a good place to hide all while questioning your life choices.

Had you really been this bad at hide and seek as a kid? Then again, it is quite easier when you’re much smaller and you can fit almost anywhere. Try doing that as an adult.

You turn a corner of the nearby buildings, entering into a small passage between the back of it and a wall separating the playground zone from the rest of the block. You know that Lily has had to have finished counting already. You don’t have much time left.

In the passage there are some piled up crates leaning against the wall. You consider hiding behind them though you know that it’s not the best hiding place. However, you’re already here and you can’t risk going back into the open space of the playground if you don’t want to get caught.

Just as you start moving towards them a voice whispers your name.

You turn and find that the building has a small space that cuts into it with a back door. Due to the afternoon light, the space is covered in shadows and leaning against the wall you find Jason, hiding.

You can’t believe that you missed him with his impressive build.

But the place seems to work as a great hiding place, almost in plain sight yet easy to miss. So, when Jason extends a hand inviting you into it, you don’t think twice before taking it.

Next thing you know, your back rests in one of the walls carved into the building that lead to the door and Jason is positioned in front of you in a way that, even if Lily were to pass by and notice you, she would only see him. At least at first.

Jason leans his head out of the space for a second to check if anyone is coming and then he comes back in front of you.

And then your breathing hitches in your throat when you realize just how close you are, even though there is plenty of space in the small opening of the building for you two to stand next to each other without problem. Yet both of you remain in your current position, not daring (nor wanting) to move a muscle.

Suddenly all your nerves are alive and buzzing, your senses heightened and all you can see, hear and feel, is him.

You're hyper aware of everywhere that he’s touching you.

His left hand on your waist.

His right arm at your side, brushing up against yours, shielding you from view.

Your chests almost touching each other.

Your hands on his shoulders, even though you have no idea how they ended up there. The urge to bring him even closer to you, practically irresistible.

You look up to find that his green gaze is already on you. Up this close you notice that there is a slight shade of aquamarine blue in them.

You feel lightheaded and dizzy but in the best of ways. It’s like you’re drunk, even though you have never actually drunk enough to feel like this.

You realize then that you’re drunk on him. You want to drown in him.

Then the scent of his cologne reaches you and you know that you’re intoxicated with this man in front of you.

And the best part is that he seems just as intoxicated with you.

You don’t know how you two get even closer but then his nose is brushing up against yours, your breaths mixing together.

He’s leaning a bit over you so maybe you should feel a bit crowded but you don’t.

You feel safe.

The safest that you have ever been. And the thing is that it doesn't even surprise you. Everything feels easy and safe and warm with him.

Like nothing could ever happen to you with him by your side.

And you’re absolutely addicted to the feeling.

Jason is breathless, as if he has just run a marathon. His breathing as heavy as yours.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest with how fast it’s going, thrill and anticipation pumping through your veins instead of blood.

Your gaze drops and you suck in a breath when he wets his lips.

Your own tongue darts out to mimic his movement on your own, when you realize that they’re already wet and that he was the one mirroring your previous action.

Your eyes go back up to his and notice that his pupils are dilated. You can’t help but think that yours look probably the same.

It seems like he’s asking a question with that mesmerizing gaze of his and your throat feels dry, as if you haven’t been able to drink water in days and the only person that can alleviate it is Jason Todd.

His gaze flits to your lips once again and returns to your eyes just as fast and they seem to be pleading you.

You can feel yourself nodding almost imperceptibly.

You’re not sure you have wanted anything more in your life. Your stomach flips.

You close your eyes, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.

And then-

“Got you!” Lily’s voice rings out, like shattering glass, breaking the spell and bursting the perfect bubble that you two were in, before your lips are able to make any real contact.

And just like that, you deflate like an old balloon forgotten by a kid in a fair.

You have never been more frustrated in your entire life.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain your senses, letting your pounding heart beat out the drug that the proximity to Jason Todd is, in order to come back to reality.

When you finally open your eyes, Jason looks just as frustrated and disappointed as you.

Your faces part, putting distance once again between them though your hands remain on his shoulders and his remain on your waist. Part of yourselves still refusing to let go of what had been about to happen, both of your breathings still heavy and deep.

“Come on, it’s your turn now!” Lily exclaims impatiently. She’s too excited about being able to hide now to really notice what was going on between you two.

“We-” Jason stops at how hoarse his voice is and clears his throat. “We’ll be right there.” He finally continues, though his gaze is still fixed on you.

“Great!” Lily chirps and she leaves the way she came, Batbear like always, tight in her grip.

You watch her go and when you look back up at Jason both of you have shy and embarrassed smiles. Sad for the moment that has left and unsure of how to proceed now.

You both suppose that keeping things how they are is the best course of action so very slowly and very reluctantly your hands leave each other. Not sure what to do with them now, since they still feel like magnets being pulled towards each other, Jason runs his hands through his hair and you fix your already perfectly placed clothes.

But as you two make your way towards the center of the playground, you both are hopeful that the moment will come again.

The road might have a few bumps on the way but it still goes on.

Jason didn’t know how it had gotten so late. He had meant to stop by the bookshop earlier and hopefully, after you closed, go grab dinner with you, as you two sometimes did now. But he had got caught up with patrol stuff with Bruce and now he would be lucky if he managed to catch you before you left.

Thankfully, he’s able to reach the bookshop twenty minutes before you close. But when he enters, you are nowhere to be seen.

Rose and Jimmy are behind the counter, chattering between them and just like every time that he went into the bookshop and you weren’t there, he felt his whole body deflate. The idea of seeing you always being his driving force.

But just like that other time when he entered knowing that you worked that day but Rose had greeted him, worry begins to settle in him. Had something happened that had made you change your shift? Were you sick?

“Hello, Jason!” Jimmy says when he and Rose notice him.

“Good evening, dear.” Greets Rose.

“Hello. Sorry, didn’t mean to bother, I know you’re about to close.”

“It’s okay, you’re always welcomed.” Jimmy answers.

“It’ll be quick. I just wanted to see if Y/N was here, I-”

“Does this look right, Rose? I feel like-” You say, emerging from the bathroom but then you freeze in your step when you spot him. “Oh, hi, Jason.”

But Jason is unable to answer, in fact, he’s pretty sure that he has forgotten how to breathe because he’s stunned looking at you.

You’re wearing a very nice dress that you must have changed into in the bathroom, and it’s clear that you’ve dressed up for something.

You look beautiful.

You always do but Jason has never seen you so formal and it stirs up something in him. For a second, he can imagine that he’s come to pick you up for a date.

But the joy of seeing you doesn’t last long as he feels his throat dry and he swears that he can feel sweat begin to form at the back of his neck and run down his back. It takes him a second to understand those symptoms and the unsettling feeling in his stomach.

Dread. Panic.

Because what if you actually do have a date?

Had he waited too long? Neither of you were any experts on relationships but it really felt like you two were working towards something. But what if it was too late now? What if he had let time drag on too much and now he was forever stuck in some kind of friend stage? Just like when he didn’t tell you about why he checked out so many children’s books and then it had passed so much time that it became awkward for him to do so.

His mind is in a spiral now, racing with thoughts. In one of your many conversations and hangouts after the very first reading with the kids and the diner, you both had mentioned that neither of you were seeing anybody. It was an off comment, something that you tell a friend without thinking too much about the implications of it.

But the idea hung in the air. The idea that the persons that you two were seeing were each other.

But still, neither of you had said that out loud.

And the thing was that you two weren’t just friends. Or at least that’s what Jason felt like and he thought that you probably thought the same. You two had a connection there and you were heading towards being something else. Slowly but steadily and surely, you were building something.

Right?

Suddenly, he finds himself revisiting every interaction that the two of you have ever had. Every longing look, every soft touch and that oh so wonderful moment while playing hide and seek where you two had almost kissed.

He couldn’t have possibly imagined all of that on his own, could he?

If he thought that the memory of holding your hand while he helped you down the ladder that one time had been haunting, it was nothing compared to that moment.

That moment that had plagued his mind every damn day since.

Everything about it, how you had looked at him, the smell of your hair, your hands on his shoulders, your slightly parted lips, added to everything about you from the very first time he met you, like your smile or the soft tone of your voice, creeping onto his skin and taking a resident place there. Like ivy, carving marks into him, down his arms and up his back, clasping and biting into him, leaving him red and scarred forever.

The difference of those imprints with the scars that he had gained over the years of crime-fighting and suffering was that they didn’t hurt nor weighed him down. Instead, they lifted him up, invigorated him and softly caressed his skin, like your hands taking care of his wounds, reassuring him that everything would be okay. That with you, everything will always be okay. They showed how much someone cared about him and valued him.

The difference being that he would wear your marks proudly.

And Jason finally decides that he doesn’t want to walk on the tightrope anymore. He wants to let go and fall into the void, take a leap of faith and come clean to you. Tell you that he’s in love with you and that he wants to be yours.

He can only hope that you may lay a safety net beneath him to fall into.

And if he’s not that lucky, he would have another invisible scar added to him, from both crashing into the ground and from having at least tried. And even though that one would hurt, more deeply and a lot longer than any physical one that he may have, you would have given it to him, and he would welcome anything that came from you with open arms.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to do all of that but what he does know is that before anything, he wants to be honest with you. Tell you about being Red Hood. You deserve to know what you’re going to get into (if you even decide that you want to), before you two delve into something deeper.

The only thing is that you two are already there. Too far gone for each other, even though Jason doesn’t know that you are. The one thing that he is certain about is that when he tells you, it will change the foundations of the road that you have been building together.

What Jason isn’t so sure of is if it will destroy them, or make them even stronger.

But something that he does know, is that right now is not the moment for any of that.

So, for the time being, he settles with greeting you back and eventually saying:

“You look… You look great.” Even though that is an understatement.

You smile and shyly look down, your fingers playing with the skirt of your dress.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, and while you two are busy looking at each other, you both miss Rose and Jimmy’s knowing looks and smiles. And before he can help it, he’s opening his mouth again. “So, uhm, do you have a date or something?” He tries to say nonchalantly, not wanting to sound too obtrusive, but the doubt killing him.

Your eyes widen and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“What? God no, just fancy family dinner. It’s my parents' anniversary. Since they’re visiting they decided to celebrate together.” You explain, and Jason can feel a wash of relief going over him, his racing heart calming down.

He hasn’t lost his chance.

“Oh, that’s nice. Congrats.”

You nod and grab your things, getting ready to leave before turning to Jimmy and Rose.

“Thanks again for letting me go early.”

“Of course, dear. And don’t worry about the dress, it looks perfect. You look lovely.”

“No problem, sweetie.” Jimmy adds before complimenting you too.

You kiss the couple’s cheeks in thanks before bidding them goodbye, Jason copying your words before opening the door for you.

As you two leave, you see Jimmy whisper something into Rose’s ear while putting an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She chuckles and she kisses his cheek and Jimmy kisses her forehead in return.

Jason smiles at the fond interaction.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” You say, still looking at the couple.

“They are.” Jason says, already looking at you. You’re lovely too. “You’re going to the restaurant with your family now?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have enough time to spare after the shift to go back home so I had to change in the bookshop. My parents lend me their car in order to make it.”

Jason nods, trying not to look too disappointed at the fact that he can’t even offer to drive you there, and a comfortable silence settles between you, neither of you wanting to part ways yet.

But you have to go if you don’t want to be late so you sigh before speaking once again.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.” Jason says, hands in his pockets. “See you soon then.”

“Bye.” You say and you haven’t taken two steps before Jason calls your name. You turn.

“You look very beautiful.” He can’t help but compliment you again.

You feel your whole face heat up.

“Thanks.”

You think about him the whole way to the restaurant but then again, when aren’t you not thinking about Jason Todd?

Jason has never been more scared in his life. Well, maybe he had, when he was in that damned warehouse. And then later, when he woke up after that without being able to recall who he was or where he was.

But this other type of fear... It's almost paralyzing, threathening to swallow him whole.

He runs as fast as he can, taking long strides, his rugged breathing making him have tunnel vision and only allowing him to focus on one thing.

You.

He hadn’t liked how close the situation had been to the bookshop from the very first moment that they had received the alert. Worry tight in his throat since he had always hoped not to ever have this kind of situation this close to you.

The bookshop’s neighborhood had always been one of the safest in Gotham, there were certain minor crimes, yes, which part of the city didn’t have them? But none of the rogues had ever attacked there.

You had once joked that you thought that the reason for it might be that some of the villains had family living there. You once even said that you could have sworn to have seen the Penguin accompanying an old lady that might have been his mother crossing the street.

Yet still, now an ACE Chemicals truck had been assaulted by Scarecrow and his henchmen. The truck wasn’t even supposed to be in the neighborhood in the first place, but the company and the police had received some information that an attack was being planned and they had decided to detour it.

And now you were in danger.

Jason keeps running with his hands clenched into fists that were turning tighter and tighter by the second.

He can feel sweat gathering on his forehead and he can almost hear a ticking clock hanging over his head as he puts some distance between him and the sickeningly looking mist of muddy green gas that had exploded in the truck.

The very same gas that was quickly spreading along the streets and that would reach the bookshop in a matter of minutes.

The first ones to arrive at the scene had been him and Tim, trying to control the situation until backup could arrive.

Scarecrow’s men were taking over the truck and before leaping into action, Jason threw Tim a look that even with the helmet on, Tim could perfectly understand.

If anything starts going sideways, I’m out of here. Going to her.

Going to you.

Tim was also aware of the fact of how close it all was to the bookshop and he just nodded, knowing how much you mattered to Jason.

They had been able to control the situation more or less as more and more police cars gathered around the truck. But then Scarecrow had finally made his appearance and everything derailed. At first, it seemed like they just wanted to steal from the truck but then something happened and the truck exploded.

Between the chemicals from inside the truck and whatever other things the villain and his gang always brought with them, the gas set off along with the explosion.

Scarecrow and his men scurried off immediately after, giving the feeling that that had certainly not been their desired outcome.

But the gas started spreading and they had no idea what chemicals were inside the truck or what the effects of it could be, but Jason wasn’t going to risk it.

And so, he took a quick glance at Tim, who already had his gas mask on, helping people on the street, and returning his gaze, Tim just nodded.

Go. We handle this here.

And with that, Jason set off.

The bookshop wasn’t actually that far away, just a few blocks, but Jason feels like he’s doing the longest run of his life and that time itself is slowing him down. He has also tried calling you but the line was already overloaded with all the emergency calls.

As he runs, he can hear through his intercom Tim and Steph shouting instructions to everyone nearby and Barbara guiding Bruce to track down Scarecrow.

His heart’s racing and when he finally catches sight of the bookshop, he feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.

The sound of the door slamming open startles you in your place behind the counter. You turn your head to tell the person that had entered to mind their manners when you are met with a red stare that you had only seen in blurry pictures on the news and heard rumors about.

You take in a sharp breath as Red Hood closes the door and approaches you in quick strides. You freeze in your place, not because you are scared of him but because of the surprise of it. Especially when you look him over and your gaze can’t tear away from the brown leather jacket that felt so familiar to you.

Red Hood grabs your wrist, bringing you with him hurriedly into the break room. And though his grip is strong, you’re surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt at all. You can hear him talking and you know that his presence here can’t mean anything good, though not for you of course, you know that Red Hood wouldn’t hurt you, he didn’t hurt innocent people, but something must have happened.

However, you can’t seem to register any of his words, it’s like he’s saying something but you’re underwater, his words sounding muffled and jammed together.

Because for some strange reason you’re still fixated on his jacket.

He sets you down on the floor next to the sofa in the break room and crouches down in front of you. And then he does something that makes your brows furrow in confusion.

He calls you by your name.

How does he even know your name?

You want to ask him but everything feels so confusing right now, like a tornado spinning around you. You only manage to utter a weak “What…?”, before you can’t help it and your hands, with a life of their own, run over his arms, feeling the fabric of the jacket until they reach the lapels and grip them.

Your heart was already racing and your breathing labored from the whole situation but it seemed like they hadn’t reached their limit yet. Though you feel like they are surely about to do so. You can feel your heart go even faster as your mind begins spiraling with thoughts and you suck in a breath when the realization hits you.

Because this… This piece of clothing so characteristic of the vigilante in front of you, you had spent an awful lot of time staring and gawking over the man that wore it several times in your bookshop.

Because this… This is the very same fabric that your hands had touched while you had been inches away from kissing that very same man in an alley while you were playing hide and seek.

Because now that you were able to see it up close, you instantly recognize it.

How could you not? When you had spent so much time with its owner, laughing while you two ate lunch; admiring him when he found an interesting book on the bookshelves; feeling understood when you shared your worries with him; taking the opportunity to touch his arm anytime that you could, covered in this very same jacket, one of the few of this type that he owned; hoping that if you were to tell him how you feel, he would feel the same way; and wishing that you could kiss him without having to worry about the consequences?

Because this jacket belongs to the man that you’re in love with.

Because this jacket… This jacket belongs to Jason Todd.

And then everything clicks, how he works nights, the wounds on his knuckles, his occasional and strange run offs. Suddenly it all feels so blatantly obvious that you wonder how you didn’t see it before.

You know in your gut what it means but your brain is still catching up with everything going on around you to fully make sense of what your heart already knows.

For a quick second, the thought that maybe he shouldn’t wear the same jacket while patrolling and during his day to day, makes you want to start laughing. Though it’s true that unless you saw it more than once, several times and very close, no one would realize that they were the same jacket. But the reality of the situation around you helps you to rein in the inappropriate laugh.

And then your name being called again finally breaks you out of your thoughts, and the only thing that you can focus on is him.

Jason’s gripping your shoulders now, willing you to focus on him and needing to have some kind of contact with you to make sure that you’re okay. He moves frantically, his eyes quickly checking the front door of the bookshop through one of the break room’s windows that look into the main part of the shop, already seeing the mist of gas slipping under it, trying to calculate how much time he has left.

He’s been asking you if you’re okay and trying to explain what has happened but the sentences come out stumbled, his brain going faster than what his mouth can follow.

In his haste he doesn’t even register the change in the look of your eyes at your realization.

He knows what he has to do but he’s afraid of what it will entail. He wanted to sit down with you, tell you about being Red Hood and explain everything to you. He wanted to be hopeful that you may understand but now he doesn’t have the chance to let you know how he would have wanted to.

It feels like someone has pushed him from the tightrope beneath him, directly cutting it, or rather, that it has snapped over his own weight, not able to hold him and his secrets anymore, and now he’s falling and he can’t do anything about it.

And if you would have ever laid a net beneath him, he’s sure that you would cut a hole open in it now.

He’s about to break everything that you two have been working towards, a shattering earthquake destroying what once was a strong and beautiful road.

But it’s the only way to keep you safe.

And he would cut the rope sustaining him himself and willingly fall into the abyss if he had to to make sure that you’re safe. That’s the only thing that matters to him right now.

And that’s exactly what he does.

You watch perplexed as Red Hood takes the helmet off and you’re met with the sharp features and white streak that you love so much.

It really is him.

He’s Red Hood.

Jason is Red Hood.

Jason, who always seemed to be checking out children’s books, wearing leather jackets and making you smile like no one has ever done before.

Your Jason.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a weird mist start to seep through under the door to the break room that Red Hood- no, Jason, had closed after you two entered.

“Jason?” You whisper. He lifts his head up from where he’s been fidgeting with the helmet since he took it off to meet your gaze, and the broken look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it has been stabbed. “What’s going on?” He follows your line of sight and his eyes grow with worry.

“Scarecrow.” He mutters while turning back to the helmet, he pushes a few hidden buttons in it and you’re surprised to see how its panels shift, changing its shape slightly but still having a head-like form.

And then Jason turns to you, his hands lifting with the helmet towards your head.

Your face contorts with horror when you realize what he wants to do.

You immediately grab his forearms, pushing them down and therefore, the helmet too.

“What are you doing?” You say.

“I have to protect you. And we don’t know what the gas does yet so I’m not taking any risks.” He pushes the helmet towards your head once again but you repeat your previous action, preventing him from doing so.

“And you? What about you?” You ask desperately, the gas coming closer and closer towards you both.

Jason’s lips pull into a sad smile. “I’ll be fine.” He whispers. It’s like he has already resigned himself to something. You shake your head.

“No. I’m not taking it.”

“I have a spare small mask, don’t worry.”

You’re still so in shock from everything that you don’t realize that he’s lying, yet in the pit of your stomach you can already feel a pool of dread forming.

“But-” You start but he cuts you off.

“Y/N, listen to me. We don’t have much time. Do you trust me?”

Even with everything that has just happened, you don’t hesitate.

“Always.”

Jason nods and puts the red helmet over your head, the shifted panels allowing it to fit your head perfectly. Jason sighs with relief and looks at you fondly, his hands still on either side of your head.

Your hands come up to cover his own and he nods reassuringly. “You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

Everything is going to be okay.

But then Jason starts coughing.

The gas has already reached you both and gathers at your ankles.

Your eyes widen and you reach for him as his hands let go of your head to support himself when he begins lulling to one side. “Jason!” You shout.

You can see his eyes losing focus, starting to get dizzy. While your breathing keeps coming in deep and clean thanks to the regulator built in the helmet, Jason seems to be gasping for air, like he isn’t getting enough oxygen or like his lungs are refusing what’s going in them.

And you finally realize that there never was a spare mask.

How could you have been so foolish?

You try to take the helmet off to give it back to him but it’s like it’s closed off. You press the buttons that you find on the underside at the back but nothing happens. You try everything but it just won’t come off.

Nothing.

You can’t take it off.

He must have locked it somehow, almost as if he knew what you would try to do.

You can’t protect him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” A cough. “ I swear I wanted to tell you.” Another one. “ I was going to.” He says between short breaths before finally collapsing onto the floor.

You grab him before his head hits the ground and you hush him gently.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” Now it’s you the one holding the sides of his face softly.

One of his hands comes up to hold one of your own, and you can’t stand the look of utter adoration and affection with which he gazes at you.

Because you can’t help him.

And his look is as if he would be content to go this way, knowing that at least you’re safe.

And your heart breaks all over again.

The room is covered in gas now and it’s not until your vision becomes slightly blurry that you register the tears welling up in your eyes.

You cry for help but there’s nothing that can be done now. You also try calling 911, not caring what will happen if someone sees that he’s Red Hood. You just need him to be safe. But the line doesn't work. Jason begins to close his eyes.

“Hey, hey, no.” You urge. “Stay with me, stay with me.” Jason opens his eyes once more, fighting to stay awake, but you can see in them how he’s almost gone, his consciousness slipping away from him.

“Please.” You whisper, fighting the tears.

And then his hand holding yours falls limp.

And with it, your heart does too.

You shake him, call him, scream at him to wake up but it’s no use. Tears run down your cheeks now, raked sobs breaking though your chest.

You even try to take off the helmet again but of course, nothing happens.

You feel for his heartbeat, it takes you an agonizing second to feel it but it's there.

Weak and slow, barely perceptible, but it’s there.

Although you fear that probably not for much longer.

Fear and dread run through you, you don’t know how to fix this. You don’t want to let him go but he’s being pulled away from you.

And then the door to the break room bursts open.

You look up and there Red Robin stands.

And the way in which he shakes his hair away from his eyes with a movement of his head while looking around the room frantically, trying to locate you through the mist, makes your breath hitch in realization for the second time in the last few minutes.

Tim.

Then he notices Jason’s unconscious body in your arms and when his gaze meets yours, even with the helmet on he knows what you want to say.

Save him.

Your shifts at the bookstore have never felt longer. You had become so used to him and come to rely on his visits so much that now, without him, they only drag on and on and on, something that had never even happened before.

Even before him.

Your only solace being that he’s alive.

You often have to remind yourself of that fact when the memory of the fear of losing him claws back at you.

Jason is alive. He is okay.

After Tim found you two, he launched towards Jason, checking his vitals and addressing his state.

He told you that he needed to bring Jason to the batcave as soon as possible and you had immediately grabbed Jason’s hand, refusing to let go of him and profusely saying that you were going with him.

But Tim had only shook his head, explaining how Jason would kill him if he ever allowed you to not go to the hospital for a check up.

But you had fought him with tooth and nails, saying that you weren’t leaving his side anytime soon and Tim had no other option but to give up.

However, just as Tim was calling for Steph to come and help him with Jason quickly, you passed out.

Whether because of all the emotions and stress of those five minutes (because yes, since Jason first entered into the bookshop to protect you, it had only been five minutes, maybe even less), or because due to the shifted panels in the helmet, some gas had managed to slip in, you didn’t know.

Probably more the later than the former but still.

Next thing you knew, you woke up in the hospital. Thankfully without the helmet, Tim having probably managed to unlock it.

Through the doctors, nurses, and the news on the TV in the ER, you learned that the gas was dangerous but thankfully non-lethal. In most cases, like yours, people in the neighborhood who had only inhaled a bit just felt dizzy for a few hours or passed out for a bit.

In other cases, the most serious ones, like Jason’s, people were put into a coma-like state, with the lungs rendered to a point of near-exhaustion. But with good rest and the appropriate care, they would recover soon with no side effects.

Batman had managed to apprehend Scarecrow and just like the vigilantes had suspected from the beginning, it wasn’t a deliberate attack but a robbery gone wrong.

They let you go of the hospital that very same afternoon, with instructions that if you felt any kind of dizziness to come back. After your family (and Rose and Jimmy of course) checked in with you, you were finally able to grab a hold of your phone that had been left in the bookshop.

You were met with a text from Tim, how he had managed to get your number, you didn’t know, but it probably had something to do with the fact that all the Waynes were part of the Batfamily.

Or at least, that’s what you figured, once you were finally able to think with a clear head and digest all of your recent discoveries.

The text said that Jason had made it to the batcave safely, that he had been treated immediately and that he was resting now.

You have never been more grateful for anything in your life.

But that had been a week and a half ago. And you hadn’t seen Jason since.

You felt like a part of you had been ripped out and taken along with him. The absence of a vital organ leaving you empty.

Probably your heart, since it had left your chest and leaped itself into Jason’s hands a long time ago.

The neighborhood had been deemed safe after the gas dissipated and you were back to your job like nothing had ever happened, just like how it often was after any incident with a rogue in Gotham.

Life just went on. Gotham and its residents as resilient as ever. The fight and survival etched onto their DNA.

If there ever was something to admire Gotham for, its survival skills were definitely it.

You had wanted to see Jason immediately, and you had even called Tim so that he could tell you more about Jason’s state and tried to see when you could go see him but then your mother had called.

Your uncle had had an accident at work and he would need surgery.

Though there was some risk, it wasn’t a extremely dangerous procedure. But if there was something that all of your family had in common and that was characteristic of all of you, was that if something happened to someone, every single member of the family would come running to be there.

And you knew that you had to be there, you wanted to be there, but it still tore at your insides having had to leave without having being able to see Jason. But your uncle lived on the other side of the country and you had to take a plane that very same night to be able to arrive before the surgery the next day.

So, you had called Tim back, telling him that you had to leave, how bad you felt, how sorry you were and that you would try to come back as soon as possible. But Tim assured you that it was okay, that they would all take care of Jason, that it would take him a couple of days to wake up and be fully conscious and that he understood (and that Jason would too) that you had to go.

You nodded, trying to hold back tears and muff your sniffling due to all the stress that had taken a hold of you due to all the recent events. Tim had calmed you down and promised you to keep you updated. Helping you just like you had done when you met him.

Thank god for Tim Drake. You’re pretty sure that you would have lost it if it weren’t because of him. His reassurance a sign of a friendship for a lifetime.

And so, you left. Everything went well with your uncle and you were glad to have been able to see your family for a few days since quite a long time ago.

But when you came back, Jason wouldn’t see you.

It took Jason two days to wake up from the coma-like state, though he had been getting better and better with each passing hour, and a full day of only eating and sleeping before he was able to return to normalcy.

Still, when he first woke up, the only thing in his foggy brain was you. He asked about you as soon as he opened his eyes and Tim told him that you were okay but that you had to leave for a few days due to a family emergency, and that you had called every day several times to check in.

Jason let out a sigh of relief. Both because you were safe and because he didn’t know how he would have faced you if you had been there.

He was sure that you hated him now. Despised him. Sure, you had called to see how he was, but that’s just how you were, caring and protective. But deep down, he knew that you had to resent him for having hidden being Red Hood from you.

He was sure that if he saw you, the first thing that you would do was scream at him and tell him that you didn’t want him in your life anymore.

And he wouldn’t be able to bear that.

He didn’t know how he could ever go back to a life without you.

That’s why he refused to see you everytime that you reached out after you came back. Letting his phone ring out when you called, later just sending a quick text saying that he was fine, that he was just busy with some things in order to not worry you. He knew that it was unfair and that he was being an idiot but he didn’t know what he would do if he saw you, even though he knew that he eventually would have to.

And yet, despite all of that, he still couldn’t bring himself to fully cut ties with you. He simply couldn’t. Needing you at least in some way in his life just as much as he needed air. As well as the fact that he knew that he couldn't do something like that to you, at least not without explaining.

It wasn’t until Tim cornered him and talked some sense into him that he realized that he couldn’t put it off any longer.

When Jason enters the bookshop, a chill runs through him as he shakes the drops of water from his hair. He had dreaded every single step that he took towards the bookshop, a cloud of shame hanging over his head. And then the universe had decided that he wasn’t miserable enough and so that cloud of shame had quite literally started to pour on him. He couldn’t help but think that he deserved it but still, it sucked.

He usually liked rain. Just not when he didn’t have an umbrella and was tethering on the edge of sanity while trying to hold the composure that he had created to give him the strength necessary to face you. And certainly not when he was holding a hot chocolate that he had bought for you; having already lost count of how many times he had previously done so when he came to visit you, in a sad attempt at a peace offering, even though he was sure that you would dump it on him; but that now surely was just cold chocolate.

Shit. He really was going to look like even more of an idiot than he already was.

“Jason?” Your soft voice comes through, like an antidote calming him instantly and soothing all his worries. Your presence, like always, making all of his dark thoughts go away.

Though that peace didn’t last long because you were here now and he couldn’t run now. He had to do what he had come to do.

Even though he still wasn’t sure what exactly that was, no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself. Had he come to apologize? Explain? Beg for your forgiveness? He had no idea.

It didn’t matter anymore because as usual, all his thoughts and working brain cells flew out of the window when he was near you. This time even more so than usual since he had never gone this long without seeing you. He just stands there, soaked from the rain on the entrance doormat, like a wet cat begging to be let home again after causing trouble and running out.

And you’re just standing there, in the doorway of the break room, looking at him like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, as if he was some mythological creature and you didn’t dare to move an inch, either in order not to scare him away or because you were petrified in fear, Jason didn’t know.

And he’s just rendered speechless. His breath taken away from him as he takes you in for what possibly is the last time, trying to commit every part of your beautiful self to memory, all of those parts that he already knows by heart, before you kick him out of the bookshop and out of your life forever.

“Yeah.” He finally responds.

Great, Jason. Very eloquent.

No turning back now.

He gulps.

“Hi.” He adds, trying to act with normalcy but he winces when he realizes that it doesn’t match the situation at all. There really is no way of making this any easier, is there?

He expects you to start yelling at him, push him, anything. But you just keep staring at him. And then:

“God, you’re drenched. Wait here.” You disappear for a second and Jason can’t believe what has just happened, a bewildered look in his eyes. He expected anything but that. But he obeys, doing whatever you asked of him in his very nature, trying to move as little as possible so that he would only drop water onto the doormat. You return quickly and hand him a towel after taking the hot (cold) chocolate from his hands so that he can dry up a bit.

You put the cup onto the counter as he shakes his boots on the mat, dries his face and ruffles the towel through his hair. When he finishes you approach him once again.

“Here, let me take your jacket. You're going to freeze.” Jason feels like he’s on autopilot as he follows your every direction, like a sailor the call of a siren. Not daring to move a single muscle or do any abrupt movement other than what’s necessary, afraid of breaking whatever is happening right now.

You hang his jacket on the coat rack by the door to dry a bit and then you turn back to him.

There’s a moment of silence, the only noise being the rain’s soft pattering against the windows, the dark clouds filtering the setting sun, casting the bookstore in a gloomy atmosphere though the place still maintains its warm glow from the few lamps turned on with a yellow and orange glow.

The place is quiet, not a single soul in the bookshop except you two. Jason made sure of coming around closing time so that you could be alone, without any other customers interrupting and, even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, the small hope of finding the bookshop closed and therefore having the perfect excuse to delay this another day.

But of course, the universe wasn’t going to have it. He never was that lucky.

Jason is so stupefied that he doesn’t move from the doormat as you take a couple of steps closer to him and look him over. Assessing him. Studying him. He avoids your gaze, not knowing what to do under your scrutiny.

He might as well be a cactus now with how rooted he is to the goddamn doormat. And then he sees how your feet join his on it and he can’t help the chill that runs through him once again, but not from the cold this time, but from your intoxicating proximity, so reminiscent of the one from the ghost kiss in the alley.

This is it, he thinks. This is when you finally push him from your life forever.

But then you surprise him once again, when without any trace of hesitation nor fear you touch his face. Sofly cradling it as if you might still care about him.

He doesn’t understand anything that’s going on right now. He has never been more confused in his entire life.

After so many months, Jason had come to know you in such a way, so intricately well, that he could read you like a book. Just like you with him. But now, Jason is seriously questioning that because he has no idea what is going through your mind right now.

He finally gathers the courage to look at you, still afraid of what he’s going to find, but you’re not even looking at him.

Your gaze is fixated upon the small cut at the end of his left eyebrow.

A reminder of the Red Hood duty from the night before. How he had managed to get a wound there even with the helmet on, he had no idea.

He sees your eyebrows furrow and your expression change to one of worry.

And then your hands run down his sides until they take a hold of his, inspecting them over after taking the towel from them.

And you sigh, disappointed in finding what you hoped not to be there. The skin on his knuckles broken once again.

Jason feels like a stranded boat, lost at sea, the water around him lulling him to its will.

That’s you.

The rain continues on as you turn slightly and flip the sign of the bookshop to closed before locking the door.

As a lightning strikes in the distance, flashing momentaneous light into the bookshop and illuminating your soft features, you take Jason’s hand and just like several times before, you drag him to the break room, but this time, instead of on a chair by the table, you sit him down on the sofa.

And he lets you. He gladly lets the sea take his boat wherever it wants to. Even if it’s to his own demise.

You take the blanket resting on the arm of the couch and drape it over him, making sure that it stays on his shoulders before you take the towel back to the bathroom and for the third time, you grab the first aid kit there.

You return to the break room and not even your shuffling steps make his lost gaze go towards you.

Despite his big frame you had never seen him so small, curled onto himself, head hung in shame; and it makes your heart clench. He looks deep in thought, grabbing the edges of the blanket so that it stays wrapped around him, as if he’s contemplating how to say whatever he has come to say to you.

But you don’t care. He could stay quiet the whole time if he wanted to.

Because at least he was here.

And honestly, your first instinct at seeing him back in the bookshop had been to run to him and hug him like your life depended on it and never let him go. But you had ultimately decided against it, not wanting to scare him away.

His presence there still felt almost like a mirage to you, after having gone so long without seeing him for the first time ever since you met him.

So, it was a very welcomed step from just sending you short texts letting you know he was still alive and well.

And you couldn’t blame him. Like always, you two worked by taking your own time, giving each other space.

And you knew that Jason had a lot on his mind after the gas incident. In the chaos of it all, he had told you that he had wanted to tell you about being Red Hood before and you wholeheartedly believed him, knowing that it wasn’t something that you could just tell anyone at any given moment. And now he had to deal with the reality that now you knew about that part of his life.

And you had a feeling that he thought that you would push him away for it. Resent him. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Because now you saw the whole picture that Jason Todd was.

And you know what?

He still was your Jason.

He still was the man that you were in love with.

Someone to whom you felt connected in a way that you had never felt before. Someone that was your friend and that always managed to make you smile. Someone that was always there for you when you had a bad day. Someone that reads to kids in his free time. Someone that tries to make this city better and protects its people as a vigilante. Someone who goes out of his way to visit you, a completely normal and ordinary woman who runs a simple bookshop. Someone that didn’t hesitate in sacrificing his own safety for yours.

Yeah, you were still very much in love with that man.

And if he needed some time to come back to you, that was fine with you because you knew that he wouldn’t just leave you like that. During the last few days you could even have sworn to have seen him peering through the windows into the bookshop in passing, but when you focused a bit more, he was gone. Or at least that’s what you hoped, the string pulling you two together too strong.

No matter how much it had pained you to have the person holding your heart keeping you at arm’s length.

Because a day or two more of waiting and you would have stormed into wherever Jason was and told him how much he meant to you until that stubborn head of his realized how you weren’t ever letting him go.

You also hoped that he didn’t resent you, for not having been able to be at his side when he woke up. Something that you will never forgive yourself for, no matter how you knew that it couldn’t have been any other way.

You sit down next to him and place the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of the sofa, getting all that you will need to heal his wounds ready. You take one more look at them and your heart clenches.

You don’t like how he doesn’t seem to take full care of himself.

Because to you, Jason Todd was a treasure. A treasure that you will never be sure how you had managed to be able to find.

And he should be treated just like one.

And that’s exactly what you intend to do.

You follow the same process as the last time to take care of his knuckles, Jason quiet and avoiding your gaze the whole time, before moving onto the cut on his brow.

You raise your hand with a cotton patch to put some antiseptic on it and your eyes finally meet his. The green in them, like always, lighting up your insides, a forest in which you would gladly get lost in.

Jason looks at you as one of your hands takes a hold of his chin to tilt his head while the other one begins treating the cut.

And Jason feels like dying when he sees the flash of pain that crosses your eyes because he knows that he’s the one who put it there.

From the very first time that you healed him, he could see how you didn’t like seeing him hurt. Yet he still had let you see his wounds and tend to them more times after that.

He really usually does tend to his wounds. Except that very first time with his knuckles that he had been so tired he had only cleaned them. But after feeling your soft hands taking care of him for the first time, it was like he didn’t want his wounds healed anymore unless it was you the one who did it.

And so, subconsciously, selfishly and guiltily, he barely tended to them, just what was strictly necessary, a desperate attempt and blind hope of you maybe wanting to heal him in order to feel your delicate touch, that Jason was sure did a lot more for his wounds than whatever any kind of medicine could do.

Your touch not only mending his wounds but also healing his soul and soothing all the bad thoughts in his mind.

But right now, Jason wants nothing more than to get on his knees and do whatever you ask of him. Anything to make the slight hurt that briefly passes your eyes go away. Beg if it's necessary.

He thinks that apologizing may be a good starting point.

“Y/N…” He begins but before he can go on any further you hush him, almost like you want to enjoy the silence and this moment of intimacy as much as possible.

Then you reach for the first aid kit again, taking a steri-strip from a pack that you had bought, along with some other extra items, knowing that the basics of a normal first aid weren’t going to be enough now that you knew that he was Red Hood.

You put it on the cut, careful of not hurting him. Jason watches you mesmerized, still not believing that you haven’t kicked him out yet.

Then, you take a normal band-aid to put over the strip, just to be extra safe but mainly because you want to see him smile.

“Is that a Hello Kitty band-aid?” He asks in disbelief, breaking the silence, as he watches you open the band-aid with the pink, red and white doodles.

“Yup.” You say as you put it, covering the cut and fully hiding it from view, Jason not putting any kind of resistance to it. And your heart clenches blissfully at the small smile that pulls at Jason’s lips. Oh, how much you had missed it, your own personal kind of drug. And you can’t help but mirror him too.

“Thanks.” He whispers once you’re done patching him up. You give a slight nod in return.

You pass your thumb softly over the band-aid to make sure that it doesn’t fall off and then you meet Jason’s eyes again, that look just like a kicked puppy’s. Shining with oncoming tears and wide in fear of what is going to come next.

“I owe you an explanation.” He finally says with a sigh of resignation and you shake your head.

“Jason, you don’t-”

“No, let me do this. I need to do this. It’s the least I can do, I owe it to you.” He says, taking your hands in his, one of which still was caressing his eyebrow and stares at them as he can’t help but begin to rub soft circles into the back of them.

Goosebumps raise all over your skin.

Jason takes a deep breath before he starts talking. It seemed like you still cared about him but would you still do so once he finally explained everything and told you the truth?

He didn’t want to get his hopes up. But he knows that he can’t delay this anymore. He doesn’t want to.

As he begins, a cracking thunder sounds in the distance, shaking the foundations of the road that you two have been building together to its core.

The question being, would it stand the storm?

You listen to him intently. He doesn’t look at you once, instead deciding to focus on your joined hands. Grabbing onto a last part of you before he lets you go forever.

“And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I totally understand that you may not want to see me anymore. I betrayed your trust and that’s unforgivable. Some of the things that I’ve done…” He shakes his head. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. You mean so much to me. And even though it breaks me having to remove myself from your life, I know that it’s for the best.”

“Jason, I-”

“No, no. Let me finish please.” He continues ranting. “I promise you that I won’t let the feelings that I have for you get in the way. I will go out that door tonight and never come back again. I’ll let you get on with your life.”

You’re fairly sure that he doesn’t even realize half the things that he’s saying. It’s like he has opened a gate and now not only is he apologizing and telling you the truth about everything, but he’s also letting his feelings for you finally come to the surface, unable to stop himself. He’s so caught up in everything that he leaves them out in the open without even realizing it.

And you just want to smile. Because Jason Todd has feelings for you too. And he has just said it out loud. You try to conceal your beaming smile to not scare him away. He’s way too much into his own head now, spiraling around the fact that he has to remove himself from your life as some sort of self-imposed punishment and in order to at least spare himself a part of the pain that would come from you outright kicking him away.

But you would never do that. Because even with everything that he has just told you and the things that he hasn’t yet, because you know that his story is a lot longer than what an evening can hold and holds a lot more things and very much darker ones than what he has revealed for the moment, you still want to be here with him. You still want him in your life.

Nothing could make you want to stay away from Jason Todd.

Not even himself.

And if there’s one thing that you’re stubborn about is that you’re always there for the people that you care about.

You just need to make him see that. To make him see how important he is to you. And you’re going to do everything you can so that he does.

You call his name again, trying to center his attention back to you but he keeps rambling.

You can only think of one thing that might finally make him stop and listen to you while also making him realize how you feel about him.

You have never done something as bold as this before. And there’s still a knick of doubt in the back of your mind, but the mere possibility of Jason leaving and the fact that the safety line that you two had drawn about your friendship and your feelings is fully difuminated now after his unintentional confession, almost as if it had never actually been there, has you determined. You want to think that it would turn out right.

And if not, at least you would get to do something that you had wanted to do for a very long time.

So, after firmly saying his name once more, and one of your hands getting out of his hold and tilting his head towards you, just when his eyes finally, finally, lock with yours for a quick second, you press your lips to his.

It’s not a long kiss and there isn’t much movement but you hope that you’re conveying everything that you feel for him and more. You can tell that Jason’s caught by surprise but it doesn’t take long at all for him to slowly press his lips against yours, returning your kiss. He lets himself melt into it and you do too. You feel warm all over and then you both sigh against each other, the two of you having fallen off the tightrope and finding that not only there’s a safety net beneath you, but an infinite number under it, one after the other, in the impossible case that one might break.

A soft place to land, a warm embrace.

You think that you could die happily right now.

You part, not wanting to overwhelm him but just from that taste you can already feel yourself slightly dizzy in the best kind of way. You slowly open your eyes and see Jason already looking at you, not believing what has just happened. You take a deep breath. Might as well put the nail in the coffin now. Cement the road.

“I’m in love with you Jason. All that makes you be you. Including being Red Hood. And I’m not going anywhere. And I really, really hope that you aren’t either.” You whisper.

“I’m a mess.”

You tilt your head with a small smile. “Aren’t we all?”

“Are you sure?” He whispers back, caressing your hair, still giving you an out, a last chance for you to escape him and all his problems, before his instincts take over and he latches himself onto you forever and never lets you go.

You nod, not faltering in your resolve. “Yes.”

“I’m in love with you too. I love you.” He says next and nothing has ever felt so liberating. Jason feels light, floating. And all he wants to do now is say it over and over again, just in case that you might still not be aware of how much he loves you.

“Good. That’s very, very good. I love you too.” You giggle, pressing your forehead to his, your noses brushing each other. Jason grins.

“Can you do that again?” He asks, his gaze dropping to your lips, already knowing that the day that he goes by without tasting them will be torture.

Your smile widens even more, if that’s even possible, and you kiss him once again.

And again.

After that, everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.

Except that now, he also kissed you everytime he did so.

Except that now, you went on very official dates, not ones that could be mistaken by a friendly hangout.

Except that now, you paid a lot more attention to any news about Red Hood.

Except that now, you always patched him up.

Except that now, you spent nights in each other's beds.

And right now, you’re very confused.

Your brows knit as you try to understand what is in front of you. The computer screen showing the details of a book order that you had made for the bookshop a while ago but that hadn’t arrived, not making any sense.

You’re so concentrated that you barely register the jingle of the bell above the entrance door. Out of the corner of your eye you feel a figure come to stand in front of the counter.

“Just a second, please. I’ll be right with you.” You say almost automatically, trying to see if you can just wrap your head around what you’re reading on the screen, though you doubt that a few more seconds will make any difference. But still, you’re adamant to try.

“It’s okay. I’m just looking for my girlfriend.” The figure says and your head lifts up so fast at the voice that you should be worried about getting whiplash. But you don’t care.

Because there he is.

Jason Todd.

Your boyfriend.

You still feel giddy inside every time that you think about it.

You let out a small gasp before your lips twist into a wide smile and you might as well be The Flash with how quickly you round the counter and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Jason’s smile is just as radiant as yours as he watches you come to him and gets ready for when you crash into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and giving you a slight spin when your feet lift off the floor due to the force of your hug.

He closes his eyes and breathes you in while he hugs you and brings you even closer to him, if that’s even possible. Your bodies merged into one in your embrace.

Never in his wildest dreams would Jason have ever thought that he would find himself in this situation. One in which you rush to meet him glowing with happiness. One in which he gets to kiss you without the fear of being rejected and one in which he’s able to call himself yours. He never would have believed any of that when he stepped foot into the bookshop that fateful night, which he was sure would be the last time he would ever get to see you.

He still can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you want him. That you accept all of his demons and that you help him fight them. That you love him. He will never take it for granted.

God, he loves you so much.

Your feet touch the floor once again but he doesn’t let go. He lets his senses overwhelm with you, everything about you enveloping him and not letting him feel anything that isn’t you. Your scent, the feel of your hair tickling his cheek, your arms around him. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.

He’s finally home.

Two weeks and a half is too long without you.

You think the very same about him as you do the exact same with him, your senses taking every part of him in, committing him to memory once again, even though you already know them like the back of your hand.

The feel of his soft hair as you run your fingers through it, just like you had dreamed so many times before, the scent and feel of his leather jacket beneath your arms.

God, you love him so much.

You finally pull back and look up at him with stars in your eyes. And then, without sparing another second, he dips down to kiss you. Or you pull up to kiss him, you’re not sure.

The only thing that matters is that his lips are finally back on yours and that’s all you need to know. You kiss him deeply, savoring him after being apart for so long and he kisses you back just as eagerly, loving the feeling of finally having you back in his arms.

And just like everytime that you kissed, like the very first time, it feels like a dream. Because you still can’t believe that he’s yours and that you’re his.

It was a long time coming.

But it turns out that you two are still human and therefore still need to breathe, so you both pull away but only what is strictly necessary to regain your breaths. Your chests and foreheads are still pressed together and lips inches from each other, so close that you can’t tell which breaths are his and which breaths are yours.

Your fast beating hearts falling into the same rhythm, syncing once again, going as one.

One of your hands holds the side of his face, softly caressing his cheek, so smooth that he must have shaved that very same morning. You feel his grip on your waist tighten.

“What are you doing here?” You finally say between giggles, the drug of his proximity, like always, making pure happiness run through your veins.

“Wrapped the case early.” He answers breathlessly before not being able to resist anymore and kissing you again.

You can’t help the smile on your lips while you kiss him and you can feel another one pulling at his own. When you separate once again you smile at each other, your eyes shining with love and affection for one another.

Jason had left earlier that month to help Dick with a case in Blüdhaven for a few days but then the thing had gotten bigger and dragged them all the way to Metropolis, making his trip longer than what he had first anticipated.

And then earlier in the week he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to return until the end of it. But here he was. Holding you in his arms and kissing you on a peaceful Wednesday afternoon.

“Everything went well?” You ask, not daring to tear your eyes away from his, only perhaps to steal a quick look at his lips.

“Yeah. All good.”

Before either of you can say anything else or even try to kiss each other again, Rose, Jimmy and Charlie, all of whom had been chatting over coffee in the break room, emerge at all the fuss.

“What’s all this?” Says Charlie with a smile as you and Jason disentangle, though he keeps you tucked into his side with a respectful arm around your waist.

“Just a young lovers reunion, Charlie.” Answers Rose.

“Sorry for intruding on, kiddos.” Adds Jimmy.

“It’s okay.” You say.

“You must be this Jason that I’ve heard so much about.” Charlie comments.

“Yes, sir. And you must be the famous Charlie. Nice to meet you.” Jason answers while shaking his hand, though not before throwing you a glance that makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and hide your face in his shoulder for a second. So you talked about me too huh?

“You too. My grandchildren are going to be devastated that you’re with someone now, darling.” Charlie says jokingly towards you now.

“Sorry, Charlie.” You respond with an apologetic smile.

“It’s good to see you, sweetie.” Says Rose to Jason to which Jimmy nods in agreement.

“It’s great to be back home.” He answers and you feel his hand give your waist a slight squeeze.

Shivers run down your spine.

You look up at Jason lovingly, a gaze that he returns, and you’re so lost in each other that neither of you see the smiles and look of recognition that the elders have in their faces, having themselves experienced a love like yours that still lasted to this day.

“Go, honey. Take the rest of the day.” Rose offers. You turn to her surprised but you can’t help but to also be excited at the possibility of going out with Jason already. Maybe to see Lily and the other kids, since Jason hadn’t seen them since he left, though you had of course shown up to check on them and continue with the readings, or maybe to eat something at Millie and Ruby’s.

But you don’t care as long as Jason’s with you. There were so many possibilities and you two had all the time in the world. And you were going to seize every single second of it. You two had wasted enough time already.

You also already know that Jason’s either spending the rest of the week at your apartment or you’re spending it at his.

“Are you sure?” You ask Rose.

“Yeah, go have fun, kids.” Jimmy confirms. You thank them before smiling brightly at Jason and then going to get your bag and coat.

As you and Jason make your way towards the door, Charlie speaks up once again.

“You’re treating her right, I suppose.”

Jason looks at you as he opens the door of the bookshop before turning back to Charlie.

“Always.” He says without hesitating and Charlie nods, glad with his answer.

The elders watch you go, happy that you two have each other. They watch how Jason moves the hand on the small of your back to take your hands between his and blow into them to warm them up in the cold Gotham air. And how you then zip his jacket all the way up, adjusting the collar so that it would protect him as much as possible, both of you smiling and looking at each other fondly, before you disappear from their view hand in hand.

Because as it turns out, it isn’t really a surprise when the road stays as strong and sturdy as ever after that cracking thunder.

Because that night, the days after and over time, Jason told you everything. About his past, about his family. And over time all that you did was fall even more for him, loving every part, every scar that he decided to show you. And he did the exact same for you.

Because in the end, he still was your Jason, the kind and handsome young man who always checked out children’s books and wore leather jackets.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd fic #Jason todd one shot #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd #Red hood x reader #Red hood fic #Red hood one shot #Red hood imagine #Red hood #Jason todd imagines #Red hood imagines #Children's Books and Leather Jackets #ThreeStarsInLine #Jason todd fluff #Jason todd angst #Red hood fluff #Red hood angst #DC Comics

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reidsdimples · 2 months

Text

Confetti 🎉

Spencer Reid x bau!Reader

Just cute 💝

“It’s not too much! How could it be too much?!” Penelope exclaims as she tosses confetti onto and around Spence’s desk.

You frown, especially because she picked the tiny confetti that finds its way into everything. Spencer will hate it.

“You just wanna torture him,” you shake your head and grin.

“You remember that time he filled my office drawer with those spring loaded snakes? Nearly gave me a heart attack! He gets what he deserves in the form of too much confetti love,” she quips as she dumps the smaller confetti into his drawer.

“Baby girl, you have your own office. We’ll never hear the end of what you’re doing to the kid,” Derek cuts in and drapes an arm over her shoulder.

“Shh! He’ll be here any minute!” Penelope says.

“Lights out, he’s in the elevator,” Hotch says more stoically.

The surprise party probably could have happened anywhere. But he would be least expecting it in the bullpen and as a result of a late night text from Hotch.

You crouch down and fiver nervously with the horn noise maker thing. Emily drags JJ behind a desk as the elevator dings open.

Spence pauses before opening the glass door, suspicion painted over his soft features. He glances through the glass briefly, furrows his eyebrows like he does when he’s thinking, and sighs.

“He’s suspicious,” you whisper to Penelope who swats your arm.

Just then Rossi exits the elevator. Your saving grace and plan B in case he decided to back out.

“I wonder what Hotch has for us,” he smiles knowingly at Spence before ushering him through the glass door. You can tell he so wanted to back out.

“SURPRISE!” The team jumps out with a roar of noise makers and clapping.

“Happy birthday Spence!”

“Happy birthday kid!”

An onslaught of attention is turned towards him and he sweetly smiles and takes it all in.

“Wow I didn’t expect this,” he lies. “Thanks everyone!”

“Happy birthday, you,” you nudge him sweetly. His face lights up when you talk to him, causing your heart to flutter.

You’re starting to think this crush isn’t just one sided. You hope, anyway.

Spencer kind of took you under his wing when you arrived at the BAU six months ago.

“It’s everywhere!” Spencer exclaimes upon inspecting his desk and drawers.

The team collectively points at Penelope who smiles wide with pride.

“That’ll teach you to put spring loaded critters in my desk!” She teases.

Spencer bites his lip and nods in a touchè manner and you find yourself smiling almost too hard. His cheeks are reddened and it always so cute.

Pizza is delivered and cake is cut while everyone socializes. You see that Spence occasionally turns his attention to picking confetti off of his desk, it seems to really bother him.

While he and JJ converse with Rossi, you decide to start emptying his drawers so you can dump the confetti out. It doesn’t take very long, mostly folders and a few fidget toys are scattered within them.

You’re dumping out the second drawer when he appears.

“What are you doing?” He asks and sits on the edge of the desk.

“It seemed to really bother you,” you answer as you tried the contents of his drawer.

“I’m pushing the meeting to ten am tomorrow, go home and get some sleep!” Hotch instructs the team abruptly. It was one am so there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Spence smiles. “I can do the rest tomorrow.”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind,” you insist. “Go home and get some sleep. It won’t take long.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Emily hugs you and then JJ.

“See you guys!” You wave them off.

Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Penelope leave in tandem. Penelope offered to help you clean the confetti but you told her to go home, she had already decorated the entire office. You could clean it up.

“Shouldn’t you be going,” you point to the elevator closing on the rest of the team.

“No I’m going to help. You can’t get rid of me so don’t even try,” Spence teases you playfully.

You huff a small laugh, smiling to yourself as you shake your head. He’s so cute.

“Huh?” Spence says suddenly. Wait, did I murmur something?

“What?” You turn to him, flustered.

“I swear you said ‘so cute,’” he tilts his head as he pops a balloon in his hand. You jump at the sound.

“I- uh- no,” you stammer. Your cheeks heat which is a dead give away.

“You’re stuttering, your breathing increased, your face is red… you’re lying,” he seems amused.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” You slap his arm with an embarrassed smile. You rush past him back to his desk to keep cleaning.

The next few minutes drag on awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to say next. Spence seemingly having little experience in the flirting department.

“Okay fine, I thought it was cute that you insisted on staying and helping despite the mess driving you crazy,” you cross your arms and lean against the wall.

You watch him closely as he turns his head toward you from where he’s leaning over his desk. His long hair and sharp jaw line causes your heart to skip a beat. His brown eyes meet yours as he articulates what exactly he’s going to say.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, standing to his full height with all of his attention on you. No I think you’re fucking drop dead sexy but sure cute works. A small grin plays in his lips as he awaits your response.

“It’s a crush, really a small crush. And I’m sorry. It’s so inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said anything,” you ramble off and turn away from him.

Something about admitting this makes him intimidating. Especially because he’s walking towards you, fixated and silent. The gears turning in his big giant brain and you have no idea what he’s thinking.

“I like you too,” his voice comes out hoarse, a near whisper and he’s right behind you.

You turn back towards him as he pushes his hair back, he swallows hard, his face and neck now colored pink.

He’s nervous, disheveled, adorable.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly, just a small kiss. It shocks him, his eyes widening. His tongue runs across his bottom lip and then he’s grabbing your face in his hands.

He kisses you softly, sweetly. Your hands run down his arms and tangle into his shirt. You’re against the wall and his kissing you slowly, as though to take in and taste you completely. His soft lips taste better than you could have imagined as you push your tongue out to find his.

Shit.

The moment goes on in perfect passionate kissing and touching. His hands find your waist, your hips, your lower back, and your body comes alive for him. Small breathy sounds escape as you both fight for air and dominance in the kiss.

Finally you break it, pulling back and looking up at him. His lips are slightly swollen now, his pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from your hands.

“Happy Birthday, Dr. Reid,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again.

#mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg pics #spencer reid one shots #dr reid #spicy spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x bau!reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 10 months

Note

Hello~!

So may I request a poly ghost face (from 1996) where they have an autistic trans!reader. Ik a lot (I'm projecting) the reader stims vocally by mimicking what they say, and they have a special interest (am like bugs, gore, sharks, dinosaurs, something around those lines yk? I feel like gore would fit) the reader rambles and rants Abt their special interest a lot! Just those kinds of things. I feel like you'd be able to capture this perfectly, thank you! Have a wonderful time zone :)

Poly Ghostface x autistic trans male reader

Headcanons

I always headcanon Stu as having something like ADHD, or just more hyperactive autism.

Been a while since I wrote about these two, huh? I’ve kinda missed em, ngl. Hope it’s alright I took some liberties with the hyperfixations :)

I can imagine that maybe you were friends with Stu when you were kids, because you were both “weird” in other people’s opinion. Stu because he was too hyperactive and could never sit still, and you because of your weird interests and how you were quite antisocial at times.

Time would pass, you guys would grow older. Stu would become someone popular, as his erratic and hyper personality becomes something others admire because he’s fun, whilst you stay being the weirdo with too much interest in medical texts, insects, and decomposition.

Neither of you meant to do it, but you would grow apart. Stu would get his new friends, specifically Billy, and you would stay by yourself burying yourself in your special interests. Its not strange to find you flipping through medical books or books about the horrors of war and medical malpractice. The more pictures the better.

When its not medical texts and war pictures with as much gorey detail as possible in the text and pictures, you can be found reading about death and the work of being a mortician, the way a body decays, and all that.

And when its neither of those things, you can be found looks at bugs, lifting rocks or moving trash to see what critters you can find. You have a sketchbook you like to draw in, three ones at that, one for each hyperfixation since you don’t wanna mix the information in them.

Its in the many niche medical books you learn about being transgender, and suddenly how uncomfortable you are in your own body makes sense. You don’t need any friends, or your families support to transition, that’s what you tell yourself at least.

You haven’t really had any real friends since you split form Stu when you were kids, and your creepy interests chase off anyone who might attempt to befriend you.

So, when you show up one day to school and openly tell people you are now a boy, no one really questions it, because why would they? You’re already weird, and compared to all your other quirks, being a boy is probably the most normal thing about you.

Through all these years you haven’t experienced as much bullying as you probably would have anywhere else, all thanks to Billy and Stu.

Stu because he still sees you as his friend in some way, and Billy because he’s fascinated by you. One day after you had come out, he walked behind you and saw you drawing detailed diagrams of top surgery in grotesque detail, and Billy has been hooked since.

At some point you and Billy would end up talking, one way or another. Maybe it was at the video store around Halloween one night, maybe the year Sidney’s mom died, and Billy would ask your opinion on the horror movie selection.

Youd grimace and say they sucked since the gore was so unrealistic, which Billy, the freak, would definitely ask into why you thought so. This would lead to you infodumping to him for a long time, going through multiple movies and explaining how its unrealistic and what would have made it better.

As infodumping goes, you don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there talking to one of the hottest guy at your school about fictional gore, until Randy has to tell you guys that the store is closing soon.

You end up getting real embarrassed about wasting his time like that, which Billy is quick to tell you that nothing was wasted because he loved talking about it with you and hearing what you had to say. He would love to talk again some time.

You don’t really believe him, until he searches you out the next day in your shared free period when you are sitting outside drawing bugs and beetles, dragging Stu with him of all people. You haven’t actually interacted with Stu in a while, so you cringe and get jitters when he hugs you and gets into your personal space.

Its Billy who has to remind him of personal space, and before you know it, they’ve asked in about your special interests, and then they just sit back as you infodump and show them the pictures and drawings you have in all three of your sketchbooks, making the two Woodsboro killers fall for you harder and harder.

Time would pass and you three would start spending a lot of time together, Billy and Stu always hanging around you to listen to what you have to say, never growing tired no matter how much you infodump.

Stu would be the first to confess his feelings, as he feels fast and he feels strong, so one day when you two are laying on his bed and you’re talking about the difference between two beetles who look almost the exact same, whilst also talking about lungs and how they’re built, Stu just leans over and kisses you.

You would be so confused, until Stu tells you that he really likes you, he would even spill the beans that Billy feels the same way too. As if summoned, Billy would show up and Stu would be all like “right Billy? You like him too, right?” and Billy would facepalm cuz he planned on confessing in a much better way.

But hed agree and say he fell pretty damn hard for you, but neither rushes you in your decision as they know it’s a big step. I can imagine Stu also rambling about how hes always liked you since you were kids, even before you transitioned, and how he actually started liking you even more afterwards because you looked so much more comfortable with yourself and who you were.

At some point you would come to the conclusion that you felt the same way, and boom, now you got two boyfriends who like you for who you are, and would stab a bitch if they tried to disrespect you in any way, shape, or form.

When the ghostface killings happen, you wouldn’t be at the party since they are super overstimulating, but you would go to the hospital to check on Billy and Stu since they are the only “survivors”.

I thought it would be funny if you developed a special interest in the ghostface killers and started a fourth sketchbook filled with your notes and theories, but you would keep it hidden form Billy and Stu because you fear it would trigger their trauma, since you don’t know they are the killers.

The fourth sketchbook would also have rants you can’t put anywhere else, like how certain people have hatecrimed you because of your gender, or because you are “weird”, and how some dark sick part of your brain wants the ghostface killers to kill them.

At some point your boyfriends would find the sketchbook and go through it together, whistling as they see the detailed analysis made for each kill, and how you are so close to figuring it out. But when they read all the stuff you’ve written you never told them, it angers them that people have been hurting you without them knowing.

You wouldn’t have told them since you didn’t want to worry them, and it wasn’t their fight in your opinion. Billy and Stu decide that they have to pull out the masks once more, seems they have a couple of horrible people to get rid of for mistreating you.

Imagine your surprise when one night you walk into your room stimming with both your hands and repeating stuff that Billy and Stu said earlier that day, only to find not one, but two people wearing ghostface gear in your room.

It takes you a little too long to even spot them as you were scribbling in your death sketchbook, having gotten a sudden spark of inspiration on the way home from your apprenticeship as the local funeral home.

You almost get to scream before they pounce, never actually hurting you but clamping a hand over your mouth, their gloves wet with what you can smell is blood. After they make you promise to stay quiet, they unmask and reveal who they are.

You buffer like an old computer for a little too long, before smacking the shit out of both of them, wacking them in the chest for not telling you. Your opinion on death and murder are probably really twisted, and the people they’ve killed have either hurt you or you had no relationship with them.

It does light up every light in your hyperfixations though, and you might demand them to explain what killing someone is like, or what a freshly killed body looks like for your sketchbooks.

Billy would grin and try to kiss you, because how can you be so perfect? But you’d wave him off with a grimace and demand Stu explain once again what it was like stabbing someone so you can get it all down in your book.

I don’t know if youd join them as a third Ghostface, but they might take you along every now and then, letting you roam the place after they’ve done their thing if the chance is there. I could imagine them taking pictures of things for you too.

I’m imagining them both dressed up as ghostface, except no mask, both kissing at your cheeks and neck and being all lovey dovey and almost purring, whilst you are sketching down the different pictures and notes about them.

They love you so much, its insane. You’re gonna have them hanging on you for the rest of your life, sorry man, I don’t make the rules. Even if you move to another city and start studying to be a professor or like, investigator for the FBI, they would go with you. It would even help them in their Ghostface work as you are an expert in them not getting caught.

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hells-plaid-angel · 5 months

Text

Dean had the lung capacity of a deep-sea diver. After years of holding his breath as he drove through tunnels, he'd honed the skill, only gasping for breath when the Impala's windshield broke through the darkness and into the light. The habit had formed as a child but lingered into adulthood as most childhood fantasies did.

As a boy, his father raised him on superstition. If you made a wish when the world was swallowed by blackness and you could hold your breath until the end of a tunnel, that wish would come true. Over the years he'd wished for a hundred stupid things. He'd wished his mother was still alive, that he lived a normal life or that a pretty girl would look his way. He'd wished his father had been the one who'd died in the fire. He wished he didn't feel that way.

Once Dean had blacked out in the backseat of the Impala when driving the I-90 through Boston. He'd come to with Sammy squealing like a stuck pig and John Winchester cursing like a sailor. For the next year, being in Massachusetts made him feel light-headed.

Kids and old men are similar in their love of rituals. Dean was no longer a child, but he wasn't ready to call himself an old man. The ritual had changed over the years, but at its heart, it was always the same.

Dean found his new ritual each night he woke from a nightmare. That night, he found himself in the bunker. The image of his hands covered in blood lingered in the darkness of the room. He held his breath wishing for the dream not to be true. He only breathed when he switched on the lights and found his hands clean. In his dreams, Cas was always dying.

The nightmares weren't helped by the fact that the angel had died, numerous times. His sleep-addled mind took time to sort fact from fiction. Had Cas come back this time?

Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that death didn't always stick. Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that the universe liked to make him suffer. Both statements were equally true.

In the nightmare, Cas had died in his arms. He'd awoken, held his breath, switched on the lights and choked out a breath, which sounded suspiciously like a sob. When the drowning feeling reseeded he found himself exiting his bedroom, searching for the object of his nightmares as a drowning man searches for land.

Dean would never admit to himself he was looking for Cas, but the knowledge was there. There were many things Dean knew but wasn't ready to admit.

Dean found the angel in the library of the bunker, absentmindedly flicking through ancient texts and Sam's collection of trashy fitness and lifestyle magazines indiscriminately. A heavy weight on his chest dissipated. Cas looked up at Dean's sharp inhale. He could breathe again.

"Hello, Dean," the angel greeted, as though he were late to some prearranged meeting.

"Morning, Cas," Dean spoke, for lack of a better topic of conversation. He collapsed into the seat beside Cas.

"It's currently 3:15 a.m. and the sun isn't scheduled to rise until 5:25."

"Thanks for the weather report, buddy," Dean griped. His tone lacked the usual exasperated edge he used when Cas said something that struck him as particularly alien, which was often.

"How are you, Dean? You seem... unmoored."

People in the twenty-first century didn't use words like 'unmoored'. Dean knew exactly what Cas wasn't saying. Dean seemed upset. If there was one thing Dean didn't cope well with, it was being anything less than 'fine'. They were experts in each other's pathology, which would always feel strange. Dean wasn't used to being known.

"Can we talk about something else?" Dean had been working on the concept of denial. However, avoidance was fair game.

"If I'm going to be staying here long term, I want to buy better magazines," Cas stated, tossing the magazine haphazardly. He'd been staying for longer than usual. Dean kept feeling like he was holding his breath, waiting for the angel to disappear.

"We can drive into town come morning. Need to clear my head anyway."

"You haven't been sleeping well," Cas observed, his eyes shifting their attention to Dean. The blue-grey eyes said more than his words. His eyes were an ocean to an inexperienced swimmer. Not everyone could read them. Dean could. There was something more to them. A strong rip beneath steady water. There was a storm raging beneath the surface.

"It's creepy that you've noticed that," Dean remarked.

"You haven't been very quiet."

Dean wondered how much Cas heard. Did he talk in his sleep? Did he call out Cas' name in the night? Had the angel heard the moments of weakness where Dean had let himself muffle sobs behind his hand?

"This isn't changing the subject."

"I've been changing the subject all week. Evidently, it's not working," Cas' voice was resolute.

He and Dean shared their stubbornness, which always led to unproductive stalemates. They were two bucks with their antlers interlocked, starving and trapped in their own idiocy.

"The thing about being human, Cas, is that things don't magically just get fixed because you want them to." Dean rebuked.

"I'm aware, but have you actually tried to fix it?"

They were fighting. Why were they fighting?

"Talking never really solved much in my line of work. You know that."

"Is this about work?" Cas questioned.

They hadn't had any difficult hunts in weeks. Cas knew it wasn't about the job. He wanted Dean to know he knew.

"It doesn't matter what it's about. That's not the point. You don't get it." Dean felt the truth pushing its way up to the surface.

"Then help me understand."

"The problem —." Dean began before he felt anger or frustration choke the words from him.

"The problem is you keep dying."

He'd expected Cas to baulk at the confession. Dean wasn't one for sharing fears or feelings. What he hadn't expected was the look of horror that settled on the angel's face.

Dean scowled and scrubbed at his cheek, quietly cursing himself when his palm pulled back wet. Over the years, he'd gotten good at crying quietly. He hated that he was able to hide it from himself. Men didn't cry. Dean didn't cry. It was a lie, not so much a superstition, but a fable. A story he told himself.

"Dean I — I didn't realise my death... affected you so much. I apologise for the oversight," Cas spoke slowly, as though deliberately choosing each word with care.

How the hell could Cas not know his death, every goddamn one, hurt Dean? Cas was family.

"Yeah, well, I pegged you for a lot of things, Cas. Stupid wasn't one of 'em. So just... Be careful. I'm going to bed," Dean mumbled, praying for a quick exit.

Cas grabbed Dean's arm as he passed, stilling him. Dean felt the restriction return to his throat. He held his breath. He wished Cas knew what he meant without having to say it out loud.

Neither man spoke. The silence stretched long and loud between them. Cas clung to Dean's arm like a dying man to a life raft. For his part, Dean was just trying to stay afloat. Slowly, almost imperceptibly so, Cas' palm slid down to hold Dean's hand. Dean let him, which was as good as a confession.

There would be no confessions. A confession implied guilt, something that Dean had in droves, but not about Cas. It wasn't a lie so much as it was a fable. If a story was told long enough it became history.

He and Cas were still in the dark, biding time between apocalypses. He wished that when they finally found themselves in brighter times, there would be no need for confessions.

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joanvisitsrome · 17 days

Text

LUNCH CH.5 b.e

HELLOOOOO YOU GUYSSSS

sorry it took so long to get this out, i had so much writers block writing this. My requests are open, since chapter 6 will be the last, I'm always looking for requests and ideas. Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

Summary: Your first date with billie!!!

Contains: Fluff, slight angst, some song lyrics, making out, and suggested sex (smut is coming next chapter!!!!)

You head home already missing Billie. You miss her touch and her kisses. You miss being with her under the covers of her bed where she held you. Where you felt safe. Even if you had wanted her, in a physical way, you had grown close to her as well, forming a deep platonic connection. You hoped that this date would go well, so that, maybe, just maybe later on, Billie would end up being your girlfriend. Who knows what her intentions were last night? What if she was just experimenting?

What if you two weren’t meant to be together? You spent the morning reading a book and cleaning your apartment contemplating this. At around four o’clock, you started getting ready. You took at least an hour trying to look your best for Billie. Wearing a dress that accentuated your best features. Hair, styled at its best, to frame your face. Little rings on your finger, and of course, your daisy necklace that you always wore, still on your neck. Your vanilla perfume was sprayed on your neck and wrists, making sure you smelled your best. You wanted this to be the best date possible.

You got into your car to drive to the restaurant when you receive a text from Billie.

by the way I bought you something rare ;)

the reservations under claire again

see you soon babes

What did that girl mean by something rare? Your stomach flip-flopped as you wondered. Sometimes Billie’s personality was too much for you to handle. While she was shy around you at first, her confidence grew with you, sometimes to the point that you would have to tease her right back to hide your flustration. And who could blame you? When Billie would look at you in the eyes, or lightly touch you on the shoulder, you were done for. After your little encounter with her last night, you now, head over heels, needed her.

The funky song that had played as you drove the past few nights was playing again in your car. You turn off the radio, annoyed by it. You drive there, thirty minutes, in complete silence, just you and your swirling thoughts. This time, Billie was waiting at the door for you. She looked quite nice in the baggy shirt she was wearing, with a tie and dress pants. She had let her hair loose once again, letting it cascade past her shoulders to her waist. You knew she had one or two necklaces underneath, as she had told you the night before that she never took them off unless she absolutely had to. She smiled, unable to contain her excitement that you were here. Her hands were behind her back as you went up to her. She held out a small box for you to open. You opened it, and in the box, was a necklace, with the letter “B” on it, you assumed which stood for Billie.

“You said your daisy necklace was starting to rust, so I got you something else. It’s real gold, so it shouldn’t tarnish,” she explained, a smile on her face.

“I.. I love it. Thank you Billie,” you say. You turn around to hug her, unsure if you should kiss her too. However, Billie is unsure as well, so she just hugs you tightly.

“Can you… put this on for me?” you ask Billie. You hope that she doesn’t find it weird, in case she had been just experimenting with you last night. She spins you around, as you hand her the box. She makes sure the necklace is at your desired length.

“Should I take off the daisy necklace?” she asks.

“Sure. I’ll put it in my pocket so I can put it away later.” You feel her fingertips slightly graze against the back of your neck as she finds the clasp for your daisy necklace. She hands it to you, to which you put it in your purse.

“Want to head inside?” Billie asks, extending her hand to yours. Your face heats up, not expecting this to happen. You place your hand in hers, your fingers interlocking. The two of you head in. The hostess greets the two of you.

“Six o’clock reservation for Claire, please,” Billie says to the hostess. You are led to a table for two, right next to a window, so the two of you can watch the sunset, you assume. You both sit in seats across from each other, meaning that you have to let go of each other’s hands. Even though Billie is right there, you miss her hand already.

You are left together in awkward silence, neither of you sure of what to say.

“So, how was your day today?” Billie asks, in an attempt to break the silence.

“It was good. I read and cleaned my apartment for a bit, how about you?”

“I was in the studio with Finneas. We’re working on a new song.”

“Ooooo, can I hear it?”

“Uhh… no. We just don’t want it getting leaked or anything.”

“Do you think I’d leak it?”

“No, it’s just,”

“Just what? You don’t trust me?”

“I do, it’s just” You struggle to hold back tears. This date really isn’t going the way you thought it was. Billie not trusting you to hear her song? It had been too unreal, you put together.

“Just what?” you say, a slight break in your voice.

“It’s about you,” she confesses finally, looking down.

“Oh.” She looks at you nervously, the cutest smile that you can imagine creeping up on her face. You feel a big weight lifted off of her shoulders. Maybe this date was going to go well.

“So,” you say, looking up at Billie, a teasing smile on your face, “what’s in that song that I can’t hear?”

“You’ll hear it soon, babes, I promise.” Billie holds one of your hands again.

“Can we talk about last night?”

“I’m so glad you said that.”

“Um, Billie, this isn’t just experimental, right?”

“I don’t know if I said it before, but if I have, I’ll say it again. I’m interested in more than just being your friend.” Billie says, just like that. You have to admit, her confidence really is doing a number on you.

“Good. Because I want to be more than friends as well.”

Billie sighs out of relief, and then begins to tell you about something funny that Shark did during the day. She even pulls out her phone to show you a video. The waiter takes your orders just as the sun is about to set. You and Billie are almost being caressed by the golden light seeping in through the window from the sun. Your conversation comes to a small lull when the two of you are eating and enjoying your food. You notice that Billie is looking at you as you eat your food.

“What are you looking at?” you ask Billie teasingly.

“The wall, obviously. I’m looking at you, you pretty idiot.” Her kind words make you melt inside, and you wonder how you wound up in this situation with this good of a person. You two continue eating, sweet moments like that continuing throughout the night. This time, you pay the bill, despite Billie’s protests.

“But I invited you for real this time! I should be paying!”

“Well you paid last time.”

You both drive back to Billie’s house again, you leave your bag of stuff for the night, (since you knew damn well you were staying,) in Billie’s room.

“I really enjoyed that date,” you admit to Billie before kissing her, the first time that night.

“Me too,” Billie says, a bashful smile on her face as she kisses you back. You guys keep kissing, and as you guys keep kissing, things progress as well. It starts with you straddling her lap, her running a hand through your hair. You whisper a question of consent, to which she nods “yes,” before creeping your hand up her shirt. She moves her hands around the round of your ass as you two are still making out.

“I… haven’t done anything with a girl before,” Billie admits, pulling away.

“Who said we couldn’t change that tonight?”

taglist:

@naturesapphic

@hotgirlphilosopher

@jellasposts @iluvtaivan @baddestbittyontheblock @alissialg @ultraultron3000 @thecatwhodreams @fl0r3ncewifey @evilscreams009 @spencerreidmarrymepls @moonxytcn @dandelions4us @kkthecutie123 @justtr @mariswift2 @natspbnj @angielovebillie @bianchiniomg @honeywolflower8364 @brbblog123 @thelesbianapollokid4 @sage-rose2000 @babygaydemon @ranadancewithstars @mercurial0cenobite @ctamemolenoizo @alexawhatstheweathertoday @worrydariing @ iwishiwasyourgirll17 @theskinnyfatman @deluluchani @hsfallingsky @itsemilyhayden @goobergabs @lucillespeace @toorandomforthis @toorandomforthis @beckylynch-alexmorgan @devynscomet

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#fanfic #lunch #billie eilish #fluff #hit me hard and soft #lesbian #pride #smut #wlw #billie eilish x reader

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ethansluvbot · 7 months

Note

hotch unconsciously favouring new bau!reader and she doesn’t even notice 😭😭 she just thinks he’s super sweet and everyone is like 🤨🤨 where’s our special treatment aye?

WHERE DO WE GO NOW | A. HOTCHNER

warnings: mostly fluff, but a kiss?

an: SORRY I TOOK SO LONG HOPE YOU LOVE IT, ignore how bad im at writing like technical fbi stuff lol

as he returns to his seat on the jet, hotch gives you a pack of food and some water. you put your earplugs back in after grinning and thanked him. morgan smirked at his boss's strange actions, but he remained silent.

"all right, let's briefly review the case's facts. while morgan and prentiss travel to the M.E., jj and reid head to the crime site. y/n and i will head over to receive a briefing. okay, everyone, let's get going."

you smooth your dress down and collect your belongings, trailing hotch in the process. as soon as you enter, he opens the door for you and goes inside for a briefing.

"the victim's boyfriend last spoke with shelby at 9:02 p.m. we spoke with the bartender at jack's bar, where she was around for the majority of the evening at 9:30. we are currently obtaining the security footage from her. tell my staff or me if you need anything."

spencer said as he left the room, "i'm going to call garcia and ask for access to the security cameras sooner rather than later."

"how's jack doing?"

"he is doing well! he does, however, truly miss you, especially your homemade chocolate chip cookies."

"does he miss the cookies or do you?" you chuckle.

Thinking to himself, "I will not answer that question," you smile and wondered who else he let his guard down for. we was always open to you, even though he never discussed his past with others.

"what would you say about you, jack, and I visiting the aquarium? ever since you got him that ipad, he has been telling me about dolphins, and i get texts all the time."

as he takes a sip of coffee, reid enters the room and says, "garcia has found the camera footage. what did I ruin something?"

1 HOUR LATER

"as of right now, it appears that the unsub prefers women who are between the ages of late 20 and early 30. Every victim carries a huge risk, and I think he enjoys the possibility of exposure. kidnapped from bar parking lots despite the fact that his face is constantly hidden. he has a dark-colored van and it's clear by the signature he injures the victim, since he has a long-term damage of his own.

"y/n i would prefer if you would lay low on this case, you fit the profile and i don't want anything to happen to you."

"are you certain? given the profile, it could be the greatest option for us."

he nods while leaning back in your chair, knowing that he thought too highly of you to see you be in harms way. you have no idea how much more than you realized he cared for you.

"fine, do not put yourself into a situation where you know it will end bad."

the remaining members of the team carrying on the discussion regarding the unsub's actions. garcia chiming in with men who match the description. you gently brush your hair away from your face and glance at the hotch. even though you quickly avert his gaze, you can still feel his eyes on you.

"i'm sorry to break this terrible news, but I believe there is a match for this suspect. i'm sending you travis's records and the last two address on file." the group leaps up and sprints towards the available cars. together, you and hotch jump into the car navigating your way to his address.

you get out of the car as soon as you get there. as you search the house, some of the team arrives, and you head upstairs. Your mouth is grabbed by a hand and you are slid into a room. you fall as a result of your head slamming into the wall.

you were able to get up and cause him to lose his balance by kicking the back of his knees. your body reverts to its limp form. travis limps his way back toward your body. there's a shot, and you reach for your gun. You turn to face the hotch, who is gripping his gun.

You say, "thank you," as he helps you leave the house. doctors are rushing to your side right away. hotch stays by your side throughout the whole thing. It is a blessing to have someone who is as concerned as he is.

He asks in jest, "so you still up for the aquarium?"

TINY BONUS

With your earbuds in but the volume down enough to hear the entire conversation, the team continues to tease you on the flight back. "Where's our special treatment?" you chuckle to yourself in private.

#criminal minds smut #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #spencer reid #emily prentiss

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v3nusxsky · 11 months

Note

hello, this is my first time asking here so im kinda shy... maybe can u do a emily prentiss x fem!reader where emily for some reason finds a cowboy hat and put it on to show reader and that turns reader on, then reader needs emily to deal with her... maybe smut if you into it ? thanks, also im following you for a little time and im loving your stories, bye angel

Reverse Cowgirl 18+

*Authors note~ I was unsure on which direction I wanted to take this due to writers block but I low key love it and the last word of the ask seemed to incorporate itself well here, I hope you love it*

Trigger Warnings~ roleplay?? dom em sub r daddy Emily cowboy hat reverse cowgirl position strap oral praise kink degrading kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

It was so rare that you ever had time to spare from chasing serial killers all around the world, but thankfully today seemed to be a rare restful day. No phone buzzing at ungodly hours of the morning with the words "we got a case." No this morning you'd awoken to your favourite agent peacefully sleeping next to you. Your girlfriend, not that anyone else knew. These mornings were definitely your favourite. You often wonder how she gets away with looking so damn gorgeous but then again your too busy starring to care why, instead admiring her beauty.

A lazy morning with your love sounded absolutely perfect until your phone began buzzing on the nightstand. A silent pray for it to not be work, you answered the call to be greeted with an excited shriek form the one and only miss Penelope Garcia. "Pg!" You whined, "my ears Garcia, what do you need?" A little scoff made its way over the line, "you me JJ and Prentiss, shopping at noon. No excuses we need a girl day and I need to spoil my god sons. I'll text you the address, bye sweets!" And just like that she was gone. It wasn't a few seconds later, and your girlfriends phone buzzed too. Trying to contain your laughter as she attempted to wriggle out of the girls day, and her side glance at you while mouthing "traitor" before giving in and accepting that she needed to get up. After the phone call ended you promised if Emily got out of bed you could shower together, apparently that was all the motivation she needed.

After a shower that took twice as long as it normally would've due to Emily's wandering hands you finally secured breakfast and both left to meet the girls. Emily drove you both and honestly you'd be lying if you said her driving with a hand on your thigh didn't drive you insane, soon enough you were separating ways after a final kiss to avoid the suspicion. A part of you wished you could hold her hand in public or kiss her cheek but another part was too scared they'd try and reassign you to keep you both apart. You'd like to think Hotch wouldn't do that but you knew it was out of his control. Plus they didn't even know you were bisexual with a preference for women.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have fun watching Garcia absolutely raid the toy stores and clothing shops while JJ insisted they didn't need anything since the absolute flood of gifts on six months ago. Garcia always won those arguments, finding some kind of loophole somewhere which made you giggle, Emily grabbed everything a coffee in order to slip a little I love you on your cup and every chance she got she discreetly joined your hands under tables. Small things like that made your heart yearn for her.

Now to end up in a sexy shop wasn't on your to do list but with JJ and Wills anniversary coming up it wasn't surprising she wanted to get him something or someone to unwrap. Garcia wondering off to another toy store left you and Emily waiting for JJ. Both of you pretending to look around separately while mentally compiling a list of outfits to get,

Emily even going as far to look at some of the strap ons. Seeing a cow boy hat in a sex shop was certainly something unexpected yet you still couldn't resist putting it on.

"Fetch me my horse daddy" you giggled adding a southern drawl into your accent causing Emily to spin around in confusion. There you stood with a cow boy hat on your head, going surprisingly well with your braided hair, and a riding crop in your right hand, "I believe I found my ride" you whispered before cheekily winking at the stunned woman. While you were putting it back where up I found the accessories you completely missed the raven haired woman buying a certain something and slipping away to hide it.

By the time JJ returned with her gift Emily was back looking at objects in the room as if she'd never left. The imagine of you being her perfect cowgirl never leaving her mind, all the ways she could fuck you in that outfit. On all fours her hand gripping and tugging on your braids as she absolutely rails you from behind. Oh and you'd be so good for her, you always were. Her sweet little cow girl. Unbeknownst to you a silly little dress up would result into an absolutely desperate Emily tonight.

The journey back to Emily's apartment was blissfully normal until you arrived. There she went to the boot of the car and grabbed a cow boy hat. The hat suited her so well and you found yourself to distract to try and find out where she got it from due to the sticky wetness now dripping down your thick thighs. "God daddy so big! I need you" you whined pitifully as she came to hug you from behind, purposefully rubbing her bulge into your ass. That was new. She definitely wasn't packing when you left this morning that was for sure. God she knew how to drive you absolutely wild.

Emily allowed you to practically drag her into the apartment and straight to the bedroom, secretly loving how desperate a simple had made you, before pushing you into the wall and claiming your lips with hers. It was lustful and needy as if neither of you needed oxygen to breathe. Emily's right hand crept up your body until it made its way to its rightful place, your throat. Now with the gentle squeeze of her hand you were begging her to take you already. The nerd becoming unbearable for you. And Emily wasn't handling the need any better than you.

Clothing was torn from eachothers body before Emily gently lifted you so you could wrap your legs around her waist all while never losing your lips. A squeak of surprise flooded the room when your back hit the mattress, "Emily! Oh my gosh" you gasped, "what's got into you?" Perhaps it was a rhetorical question but she answered you anyway with a nip to the base of your throat, "you and that damn hat." You couldn't help but smirk, a harmless silly thing had turned her this needy for you.

Any reply you may have had died on your tongue as you felt her mouth creeping lower and lower until she met your needy cunt. By now your wetness was seeping onto the sheets, "god I need more" you whined impatiently, moving your hands to her hat to hold her in place. Emily was always talented in ever aspect of life, but the way she would plunge her tongue into your tight little hole and curl it just right was enough to drive you insane, but then when she would add two fingers and move her mouth to your aching bundle of nerves you honestly saw the stars. If there was one thing Emily prides herself on is how well you scream her name as she fucks you with her tongue. In fact she swears that she would spend forever between your thighs and die a happy woman. Yet when your tugging her up for a break from the overwhelming sensations she still feels a little glee at what she planned to come next.

A few sweet kisses and some soft praises found you straddling her lap, the new strap on pressing against your soaking slit. "Please daddy" you whimpered only to be met with a shake of her head. "Nahuh angel, you're gonna ride my cock like a good cowgirl for me" she purred in your ear before helping swivel you around to face her legs. Then the hat was settled on your had before she finally slipped into your awaiting core. "Oh fuck yes so good, so big daddy fuck" you mewled as you slowly began to bounce on her cock. "God you're so fucking sexy, bend over cowgirl I wanna see how I spilt you in two."

The moment you finally bent so she could see how her faux cock moved in and out of your slippery hole she could've swore she almost lost her composure. But her patience was rewarded when soon all you were was a whiny mess hardly able to keep a rhythm. Hands gripped onto her thighs like a life line and yet you still couldn't do as you were asked to. "Such a pathetic whore for my angel, and you were being my sweet girl and yet now you can't even do what a common whore could. I'm disappointed Angel" she murmured placing her hands on your hips. A whine escaped you, "mm sorry daddy I be good girl mm sorry" you whimpered over and over until she finally took pity on you.

With a pace that was perfectly fast and rough Emily slipped out of your cunt, ignoring your whines of protest and flipped you on your hands and knees before slamming back into your needy pussy. From there on she kept a punishing pace. Her hands gripping your braids to steady herself as she attempted to burry her cock into your womb. And you came over and over for her that night until you were nothing but her little angel absolutely fucked dumb.

"Shhh sweetheart you did so good for me darling" she murmured in between kissing all over your face to distract you from her pulling out. "Such a pretty cowgirl for your daddy" was what caused you to blush like a mad woman. You knew the routine Emily would get up to get a cloth and clean the strap but you didn't want her to go. But you didn't have the brain function to do more than whine at her, trying to convey what you wanted. "Shh two seconds my love, we have to clean up then I'm all yours baby."

Two seconds was all it was, and then Emily was back in before allowing you to snuggle up on her chest as her hands threaded through your beautiful hair. "So proud of you sweet girl" she whispered not expecting you to whine and mumble "disappoint you" the clearest you could. "No angel, you're my good girl, I love you my little cowgirl, you did so well baby, now rest angel, I'm right here."

Word count 1880

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #emily #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss #ssa emily prentiss #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds

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lunarmoves · 4 months

Text

through pixel eyes (chapter one)

pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader

mentions: kinitopet/virtual au, gender neutral reader, general creepiness

a/n: ignoring that it's 3am where i am... ch1's finally here! yippee!! ending is rushed but im tired so excuse it LOL pls check out the masterlist for more info on the fic (tags & summary). hope u guys enjoy! :D

word count: 5.3k+

masterlist

ao3 link

Click. Click. Taptap tap tap. Click.

You chew aimlessly at the bottom of your lip as your mouse roves over to the latest email in your inbox, opening it with another decisive click. Perking up slightly, your eyes skim through its contents, mindful of the zip file attached to it at the top.

Valued employee, the email reads, thank you again for your decision to assist Fazbear Entertainment in the latest beta testing stages for our developing proprietary technology. Attached is the file you are required to download to begin testing. As always, be mindful of the documentation you have signed previously; a failure to comply will result in immediate termination. Located at the bottom of this email is the submission form you will need to populate each time you conduct a run. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to reply to this email. Have a Faz-errific day!

You hum and scroll back to the top of the email again so you can look at the attached file. FazPals1.1_DCA.zip, it says. You click the download button, then lean back in your chair as you wait.

For being such a large company, FazCo has a rather small beta testing team. You suppose it makes sense, though; their technology is so unparalleled that you are sure they’d want to keep information as closed off as possible. Hence why you’d been forced to sign all matters of forms—contracts, an N.D.A., and waivers, of all things—before they’d signed you on. You’re sure they are even more restrictive with their information after the pizzaplex burned down all those years ago. You’re lucky you’d managed to slither your way into their ranks to make the beta team, though you figure it helps that your resume is stacked with experience.

You are certainly curious as to what they’ve been doing while they parade assurances that the pizzaplex will return “better than ever.” You have a vague idea from your past emails with management as you were being incorporated into the beta testing team—some kind of interactive game of sorts, you think—but they’ve been rather hush-hush about it. Your answer resides in the zip file that’s just finished downloading to your computer. You navigate to your file explorer and begin the extraction process for the files. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long. You scratch idly behind your ear, shifting your headphones a little to rest more comfortably atop your head.

Okay. File open. Where is the— There! You double click on the FazPals_DCA.exe file to run it and begin installation. A brief glance at the time shows it is a little after six in the evening. You have quite a bit of time before you’ll need to head to bed. You’ll see how far into the program you get before you hit a checkpoint or something.

You watch as a tiny pink and white bear on the installation window flips a pizza over and over while the progress bar steadily inches its way to full completion. It is oddly hypnotizing. And when the program finally finishes installing, the window closes. An icon of a cool crescent moon tucked into the burning yellow of a sun appears on your desktop and is labeled as FazPals. Nice. Thank you, fast WiFi. Without much preamble, you double click on the icon.

A small window pops up in the middle of your screen. You glance through the text quickly.

Welcome to version 1.1 of FazPals, your very own virtual desktop friend based on the hit characters from Fazbear Entertainment's Mega Pizzaplex! They are able to walk, talk, joke, tell stories, give fun facts, adapt, and play games! FazPals are like no other with their innovative adaptive technology! You'll learn from them as they learn from you!

Click the button below if you are ready to meet your new FazPal!

Not what you’d been expecting, but it sounds pretty cool. It reminds you of the Tamagotchis from all those years ago—only with the A.I. of Fazbear-branded technology. Well! No time like the present! You click the ‘Proceed’ button and the window closes.

In the center of your screen, a small music box appears. It’s an unassuming little thing, wrapped in yellow with a red ribbon crossing over it to tie into a neat bow at the top. A crank awaits your click, so you do just that, watching as it rotates around and around until— Pop! The box opens and something jumps out of it with a flourish and a jingle of bells that echoes through your headset.

The box disappears and you’re left to stare curiously at the little figure swaying animatedly on your desktop. He seems to look around a bit, then a small dialogue box flashes over his head. But before you can read its contents, the box disappears in a static puff. You cock your head slightly. A glitch, maybe? You file that away for later and instead observe the tiny, taut grin of the program. Your FazPal, or whatever.

You recognize him from the pizzaplex commercials you’d seen on the television years ago—the Daycare Attendant. A fellow—fellows?—modeled after celestial bodies. You’re looking at the sun, currently, though his design is a bit different from what you remember seeing.

Before you can get a good look at him, however, another dialogue box pops up over his head with text accompanying a voice that chirps into your headset. You are momentarily surprised at the sound; you hadn’t expected FazCo to incorporate their voice module into the program too.

“Hellooo, New Friend!” Sun exclaims in a slightly pixelated manner—hardly noticeable, really—as he waves a small hand. “My name is Sun, your very own F-FazPal!” There’s a slight glitch on the word that makes his voice deepen slightly, but it passes easily enough. “What’s your name?”

Following his question, a window labeled ‘Name?’ pops up to his side with a textbox for you to input your answer. Figuring he isn’t going to proceed with his script until you type your answer, you take the moment to properly analyze his design.

Detached sunrays of white and gold hover around his head, framing bright eyes and an equally as bright smile on a face split into a crescent. He’s rather lithe, with a red sash tied around his waist that’s adorned with small, golden bells. Another bell is tied around his spindly neck with a red ribbon, and those same ribbons are tied around his wrists. His torso is bare and colored in different shades of yellow. Puffy red pants cover his legs—triangularly shaped with sharp lines and edges. They are decorated in a design that reminds you of the circuitry of a motherboard—dissecting lines connected by small circles that start from his waist and make their way down the length of his pants in a trickle. Pointy shoes with little suns on their sides finish the look.

He is all angles and unforgiving points, with a digitized sort of look to him that fits the whole ‘FazPal’ aesthetic, in your opinion. It’s certainly interesting. You like the futuristic feel to it.

Pulling yourself back to the present, you type in your name. Sun has his arms crossed behind his back as he waits, swaying gently side to side. You hit enter and the window disappears.

“Lovely name!” Sun chirps, his rays spinning around his head eagerly that you eye in interest. They look like floating pieces of fractured, stained glass, dainty yet deadly. “I’m sure we are going to be the bestest best friends!” You snort at the declaration.

“To start our little quest of friendship,” Sun continues on, his head moving towards the dialogue box that pops up near him like he’s looking at it, eyes narrow. It’s honestly difficult to tell with that blank gaze of his. He returns his gaze to the front, where his eyes upturn into little crescents. “Why don’t we get to know each other? Sound good?”

Another window appears with two simple buttons sitting next to each other under it: A ‘Yes’ and a ‘No’. You click the ‘Yes’ and Sun gives an excited little clap of his hands. It’s cute, in a way. “Wonderful! Okay! To start, what iiisss your favorite color?” The open window closes, then reopens to a textbox again with the new question displayed at the top. You hum and tap your chin thoughtfully, then let your fingers fly across your keyboard as you type the color in.

You pause, however, before you hit enter and decide to tack on a ‘hbu?’ to your response. If only to satisfy your curiosity and really test the limits of FazCo’s ingenious A.I. Hey, you’re a beta tester—it speaks for itself!

Sun grins even wider, if possible. “That’s a good one! As for me…” He makes a thinking gesture, eyes narrowing like he’s contemplating it deeply, then brightens up. No, literally. A lightbulb appears over his head for a quick moment. “I like all the colors, it’s so hard to choose just one! Normally, I just say ‘rainbow’!” He makes a little semicircle gesture with his hands around his head. Little pixelated sparkles wink into and out of existence near his fingers before he clasps his hands behind him once more. You’ve got to hand it to FazCo—they certainly know how to add some flair to their characters. “Next question! If you could have any superpower ever, what would it be?”

You chew at your lip again as you lean back in your chair and ponder his question. Why is it when people ask you these kinds of questions you always blank on the answers? Sun is ever so patient as he waits, moving in that idle animation next to the open window.

Ah well, it’s not like you’re answering an interview question or anything. You wing it. ‘probably invisibility, or something. hbu?’ And enter.

“Ooh! Invisibility!” Sun nods like he’s giving his approval. “Good in the right hands! I would want the power to read minds, I think! All the better for making fantastic friends!”

You make a small sound at that. Well, you suppose that’s one way to make friends, albeit not a very… stable foundation to base a friendship off of. Sun proceeds with his next question. “This one’s a bit of a tough one! What’s your favorite word?”

‘Tough’ is an understatement. You’re stumped. You rake through your mind for a word and draw up nothing but blanks. You’re certain you have one, but you just cannot think of it at the moment. Shrugging, you type ‘idk. i can't think of one rn, sorry. do u have one?’

His head cocks to the side, grin curling at the edges. “That’s more than one word, New Friend!” Sun replies amusedly, then laughs—a loud, tinkering thing that cuts off a bit strangely at its end. “Kidding! I’ll let you off easy for that one!” He is quite good at adapting to your responses, you note lightly. Very intriguing. You wonder how that’s coded. “My favorite word is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” You blink in surprise. The dialogue box is barely able to hold the word inside of it. You didn’t quite expect him to say that, of all words, though you guess it makes sense for him. Sun doesn’t elaborate, just transitions merrily through the next part of his script. “Now, for this question, I need you to be as detailed as possible, okay? It is”—he pauses for a second—“essential.”

You nod, but it’s not like he can see you, so you end up looking like a fool. Sun stares straight ahead and it… it feels a bit like he’s looking directly at you. You shift uneasily in your seat and watch his eyes go dark along with his white rays and wide smile. Abyss-like. Something drops in the pit of your stomach at the abrupt switch. His smile widens. It cracks like he’s on the edge of something hysterical. And when he speaks, it’s in a low, garbled voice that grates at your ears.

“Where.” He grits out. “Are—”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish. A glitch encompasses his body that makes his rays twitch erratically and his limbs to jitter about like he’s being electrocuted. You jerk back out of surprise and consider exiting the hell out of the program. But then he’s back to normal like nothing had ever happened. White eyes stare up at you with an equally as white smile.

“Oh!” Sun exclaims cheerfully, swaying about gently. You’re taken aback and, quite frankly, confused out of your goddamn mind. “Silly me, look at the time! I’m afraid our friendship will have to wait! There’s someone else who’d like to meet you!”

“What.” You utter the word mindlessly, eyes flicking down to the time on your computer. 6:59 P.M. Time sure did fly by through all of… that. You’re not entirely sure what to think of it.

“Talk to you soon, New Friend!” Sun waves a hand in farewell, then spins himself around in a little animated tornado. You can only stare, oddly transfixed and still utterly flummoxed, as he spins around, and around, and around until the clock changes to 7:00 P.M. and he slows to an elegant stop.

Only, it’s not Sun you’re looking at anymore.

The rays are gone, replaced with a nightcap covering his head that’s adorned with twinkling stars and a little bell at the end. All the yellows have shifted to greys, blues, and blacks, though he still retains the golden bells, red ribbons, and red sash. His pants are a midnight blue with the same circuitry design, and his shoes now have little moons etched into them instead of suns.

This must be the moon, you conclude once you’re done observing him. The other half to the Daycare Attendant you remember seeing via advertisement—the one who’d been in charge of naptime.

You watch as Moon seems to look around. You’re not sure what he’s looking at, but you can only wait. Gentle ruby eyes move from your desktop icons to the open window that Sun had been standing next to. His smile turns jagged like the outline of a mountain. And then—

And then he slinks away, disappearing straight off of your monitor without a second look. You’re left staring at the open window, the cursor still blinking in the textbox and awaiting your input. What… just happened? You blink at where he’d disappeared off screen and wait a few moments. But he doesn’t come back.

What the hell?

Five minutes turns into ten, which turns into fifteen and then twenty, but he truly does not return. You’re stupefied.

Maybe you should restart the program? You nibble at your lower lip and right click on the FazPals icon so you can end it and then boot it back up again. Your mouse turns into that loading circle of death, and you swear you’re not holding your breath in anticipation or anything, but it sure does feel like it.

Loading… loading… loading…

…

Nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Moon does not appear. You groan and scratch at your ear again, shifting your headphones. Day one of testing and you’ve already run into a problem. Great. Well, it wasn’t like you’d expected everything to be smooth sailing. Still annoying, though. Just in case, you try restarting your computer.

It doesn’t yield any results either, and you end up just watching some videos as you wait to see if the bug will magically fix itself. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t and you eventually give up as the clock ticks closer to midnight.

But well—you think as you slowly pull up the submission form FazCo had sent you for your job to fill out—you suppose this is why the program’s still in the testing phase. It obviously has some kinks that need to be ironed out. Hopefully it’ll get fixed up in the next patch update. Until then, you’ll just have to deal with it.

A benefit of working from home? You get to set your own schedule. A blessing, at times.

That unfortunately means you have to stick to it while ensuring you’re properly taking care of yourself, and going outside to get fresh air, and also getting all the necessary work done on time, and also—

Well, you get the point.

You wake up groggy the next day and stumble your way out of your room, just barely managing to step over the little Roomba aimlessly bumbling down the small hallway. At one point it was another product you were testing, but then it was given the green flag for mass production and admission to stores. The company let you keep the one they sent you. It was a little finicky, but it worked just fine. You named it Chicken Nugget a while ago—Dr. Nugget for short, because a Roomba with a PhD was just too amusing to pass up. You’re still musing over what area its PhD is in.

There is much to be done. Dishes from last night need to be washed, food needs to be prepared to last you a few days, timesheets need to be filled out before you forget your hours. It’s easy to multitask on household chores while you do your job. You're on the beta testing team for quite a few companies, so you’re kept busy evaluating their programs and products while you julienne onions and clean plates. You earn enough to live comfortably, and it’s all you can ever ask for, really.

Eventually, after a long day of being a responsible human being and submitting numerous evaluation forms for various applications, you plop down in front of your computer with your headphones and turn it on. Evening has just started to creep in, turning the sky into a picturesque gradient of burnt mandarin and dusty magenta. Your desk is right by a window, so it’s nice to draw the curtains back and let fresh air circulate around the room from it.

Alright, computer on. You type in your password to log in and wait as it finishes booting up. First thing on your list—check your email. There’s nothing of importance, not that you’d expected anything, really. Oh hey, you’ve got a discount code for your next purchase at your favorite pizza store. Sweet. You save it for later.

All you have to do is test FazCo’s program and then you can relax for the rest of the night. You preemptively open up their submission form and minimize the window, then double click on the FazPals icon. Hopefully you won’t run into any problems. Code is weird like that—working perfectly fine at one moment and doing fuck all the next. And it’s always a pain filling those surveys out when there’s an abundance of bugs and glitches to point out. It’s simple, but oh so tedious. You guess that’s what you’re getting paid for, though.

Blinking back to attention, you squint at your empty desktop then double click on the FazPals icon again. Ah, there you go. Loading symbol.

Instead of the little music box like you’d been expecting, Sun comes into view by cartwheeling in from the side of your monitor. It’s silly and you smile slightly as he jumps up to his feet and splays his arms and a leg out wide like he’s about to fall into another cartwheel.

“New Friend!” he exclaims loudly alongside the text in his dialogue box, rays spinning rapidly about his head in delight. You wince slightly and lower your volume a bit. No need to kill your eardrums. “You’re back! It has been twenty-two hours, nine minutes, and thirty-seven seconds since we last interacted!”

Your brow raises at his precision, but what else did you expect from a computer program? Sun relaxes into his normal stance and leans forward eagerly. “So! What do you wanna do?” A small, labeled window pops up next to him for you to type in. One of his rays twitches slightly. “For a list of activities I can perform, type ‘/help’!”

You’ve already forgotten what he can do other than walk around and talk your ear off, so you do just that and the window disappears. You didn’t even have to hit enter.

Sun beams. “For your present and future reference, I can tell jokes, give fun facts, play games, and storytell! Pick your poison, New Friend!”

You ponder for a bit, then type ‘can u tell me a fun fact?’ in the new window before it pops out of sight, again before you can press enter. Huh. You make a note of it mentally. The back and forth with the windows is going to take some getting used to.

“I sure can!” Sun does a little wiggle and stands at full attention with his arms crossed behind his back. “Did you know that neutron stars spin six hundred times per second? Pretty cool!” He seems very cheery today. You’ll have to keep an eye out for any more of that strange glitching from yesterday. “Want another one?”

Eh, you don’t see why not. You shrug and click the ‘Yes’ button when it appears. Sun gives a little salute. “The most water ever discovered surrounds a black hole about twelve billion lightyears away! It has the equivalent of one hundred and forty trillion times the volume of Earth’s oceans!” You’re starting to see a theme here with his fun facts and it honestly checks out. Sun’s rays spin a little to the right as he tilts his head slightly. “That was two facts in one, technically. Just for you! Don’t tell anyone!!” And then he winks, accompanied by a little star spinning out from his eye. It’s a small detail, but it still makes you smile. Consider you charmed.

“Alrighty! I have an idea of what we can do next!” Sun says as he skips away to the edge of your monitor. You watch him curiously as he sticks a hand beyond your desktop—somewhere offscreen?—and starts pulling over a large open window from it. Like he’s unraveling a spool of paper. He drags the window over to the center of your screen, then wipes his face with his arm and takes an exaggerated breath. “Phew! That’s heavier than it looks! Luckily, I’ve got these to help me!” He flexes his stick-like arms dramatically, posing this way and that like he’s a pro wrestler.

You notice, as he poses, that another small window pops up—indistinct and unlabeled this time with a simple textbox for you to type in. But he… didn’t really ask you a question or anything of the sorts for you to respond to? You eye it for a moment, then decide to type a little ‘hi’ in it to see if it’s a bug or something. After waiting a few seconds to see if the window will close again without you hitting enter, nothing really happens. Oh, is it fixed now? You hit enter and the text disappears, but the window stays. You guess it is. Code, man. So finicky.

Sun stops flexing to shoot you a bright beam with a spin of his rays. “Hello!”

Okay, maybe it’s not a bug if he can still process your texts. Shrugging it off easily, you turn your attention to the window Sun had pulled over from who-knows-where. It looks like your computer’s Paint app. How did he open that? ‘what’s that for?’ you type into the textbox.

“This is for us to play some games, silly!” Sun brandishes his hands towards the Paint window like he’s presenting a masterpiece. “How does Tic-Tac-Toe sound?”

Well, not like you have any other ideas for what to do. ‘sure, let’s play.’

“Faz-tastic!” Sun claps his hands, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a comically large wooden pencil from its depths. Seriously, it’s nearly the length of his arm. It’s like something right out of a cartoon and you grin at the silliness. He steps closer to the Paint window and draws four perfectly straight and intersecting lines—each of them the same length and splitting into the same sized boxes and everything. He then draws a perfect circle in one of the corner boxes and steps back. “Your turn!”

You crack your knuckles and roll your shoulders. Okay. Time to lock in and kick this program’s ass.

Except you don’t.

You lose horribly. Seven times in a row, in fact.

‘r u cheating? ur cheating, aren’t u,’ you type into the open textbox, which had remained in place all throughout your games. Unusual, but you’re not too bothered by it. After you lost the first few rounds, you started complaining to him using it. You figured you might as well. It’s almost like having a conversation with him and you’re pretty impressed by his verbal versatility.

“Cheating?!” Sun squawks, offended. He splays a hand across his chest as he somehow manages to twirl his giant pencil in his hand like a baton. “A rulebreaker, I am not! I think someone is getting a little grumpy!” He gives you a pointed grin.

You should have expected you’d lose to fucking A.I. software. You run your tongue over your bottom lip, where you’d been incessantly troubling it with your teeth throughout the rather merciless Tic-Tac-Toe beating you’d just received. You’re considering mentioning in the submission form that the program is too difficult to beat at games, but maybe you’re just that bad at them. Your ego’s definitely going through it.

‘i’m not grumpy,’ you grumble. Sun shakes his little digital head in good mirth, seeing right through you, of course. You switch topics. ‘let’s play something else. got any other games?’

“I sure do, Friend!” He uses his pencil eraser to clear the Paint canvas and starts drawing what looks like a game of Hangman. He gives you a sly smile. “Think you’re up for a real challenge?” Cheeky!

After some rounds of Hangman and Pictionary (which, to your pleasant surprise, you’re not too bad at, but maybe Sun’s taking pity on you), Sun eventually closes the Paint window and makes a show of stretching languidly. “My time’s almost up, I’m afraid!” Sure enough, a quick glance at the time shows it’s nearing seven o’clock. Time flies when you’re having fun. “Make sure to stretch your back and arms out, Friend! Hydration is also important!”

‘yes boss, u got it, boss,’ you reply before stretching out your arms. You have a water bottle on your desk that you take a quick drink out of, the liquid inside of the insulated material still cool and refreshing. You shiver a little and eye your window still letting the night air into the room. You should close that soon. And maybe turn on the lights so you’re not sitting in the dark illuminated only by your bright screen.

Naturally, you do neither. Too much work right now.

Sun wiggles a little, then clasps his arms behind his back. “This was fun! I will talk to you tomorrow, Friend!” His grin widens, curling at the edges. “Don’t keep me waiting too long!”

And before you can really process the tone of that, he pulls out a red curtain from somewhere behind him. Shaking it out slightly, he pulls it up in front of him to block your view of his little figure entirely. You raise an eyebrow as the curtain wiggles and protrudes out like he’s changing into new clothes, before eventually it falls down and reveals Moon. His nightcap is pulled down to partially cover his glowing ruby eyes.

You lean forward in your chair, attention instantly grabbed. Will he work properly this time? You consider him for a moment as he simply stands there—sullen and, dare you say, annoyed. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is pulled into a scowl. He shifts like he wants to move or leave, but something keeps him rooted into the same spot Sun was just in. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his pants (he has pockets??) and he slouches like a puppet cut from its strings.

He’s not saying anything. Only glares off at a point somewhere on your screen. You bite the inside of your cheek and decide to take one for the (nonexistent) team.

‘hi moon,’ you type into the textbox that’d remained even after Sun left. Pressing enter, you watch curiously as something tense seems to line Moon’s small shoulders and he moves his glare to the open window instead.

His head twitches. “Hi,” he replies slowly in a raspy voice. It’s not what you’d expected, low and murmured like he’s speaking to someone in a dark and quiet corner. His gaze darts to the dialogue box that pops up next to his head and seems to narrow even farther.

Oookay. He doesn’t say anything else. Is he still bugged or is he just programmed to be much quieter than Sun? You’re not sure if that makes sense for this type of program, though. You try to nudge the conversation again, thinking back to the list of commands Sun gave you earlier. ‘can u tell me a joke?’

Moon seems to look at you and it’s just as creepy as it had been when Sun did it. His scowl deepens. “No.”

You’re taken aback. No? Oh. Well. Maybe you should try something else? ‘can u tell me a fun fact?’ At least you know this command works for certain.

“No.”

It’s like pulling teeth over here.

You’re determined, however. This is your entire job. ‘what about a story?’

“No.” Moon bares knife-like teeth at you in aggravation and you’re tempted to do the same thing back. He doesn’t want to do anything! Something is definitely… off. You make a note of it to include in the submission form later. At least he hasn’t left your screen. You’ll take the win where you can.

You’re stumped on what to do. The only thing you can think of is to keep inputting commands until something gives. Maybe things will sort themselves out? You try asking for a fun fact or joke again, but Moon still just scowls and answers in that same clipped manner. His fidgeting seems to increase.

You’re getting close to calling it quits. ‘why don’t we play a game or something? tic-tac-toe?’

“P-Persistent little thing,” Moon growls into your headset and it’s such a reprieve from the constant rejections that you’re not even offended. You perk up slightly only to deflate at his following words. “Didn’t anyone teach you that ‘no’ means no?”

‘no,’ you type as a response—partly in annoyance and partly just to be snarky. Moon twitches again, and then in the blink of an eye—he glitches.

Similar to Sun, it spreads down his body in a wave and makes him jitter until he snaps back into place like a rubber band. He flexes his hands and takes a step to the side—tentative and exploratory. The window with the textbox pops out of existence and Moon gives you one final, narrowed glare before he just… leaves offscreen. Again. What the fuck?

You scrub a hand down your face and groan. You don’t expect him to return, but just in case you wait around a little and kill some time by filling out the submission form. Name, program version, strengths, encountered issues, and so on. You submit the form when you finish and roll your shoulders. Yeah, he doesn’t come back. At least there was some progress compared to yesterday.

You end the day with a final squint at the FazPals icon and a shrug of your shoulders. Things could be worse, you suppose as you power off your computer and stare at your reflection through the dark screen of your monitor. Hopefully tomorrow brings more improvement.

part two

145 notes · View notes

lilypadlys · 6 months

Text

In Your Arms

Dew is having a hard time on tour. Between being homesick, missing Aether, and having nightmares, he's at the end of his rope and snapping at everyone. He really needs some gentle love but who do you turn to when you've pushed everyone away?

Ship: Dew/Swiss, bit of Dew/Aether

Word Count: 1550

Rating: Teen (for mild language)

Tags: SFW, fluff, hurt/comfort, cuddles

Below the cut or on AO3

The tour is nearing its end. Everything has been going mostly smoothly. The new summons Aurora and Phantom have integrated seamlessly. No major injuries have been sustained. Only some venue issues and inclement weather stood in the way of it being a flawless run and those were out of their control.

Still, Dew feels on edge. He’s tired. Being away from the ministry, constantly on the move, and missing Aether and Sunny, as well as a million other discomforts are all taking their toll. He hasn’t slept soundly in ages, sleep plagued with nightmares.

He’s been extremely snappy at everyone. He manages to pull himself together for the shows. Falling into his role, taking out his frustrations on his guitar strings. Off stage though, he can’t find an outlet. The smallest thing sets him off.

He hates himself for it. Cumulus didn’t deserve the hisses he spewed at her when she tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Poor Phantom looked ready to cry when Dew told him to fuck off when he asked if they wanted to room together at the hotel last night. Aurora and Rain have been avoiding him entirely, afraid of invoking his wrath. Cirrus and Mountain shoot him glares on the regular in response to his snarky asides. Swiss is the only one still willing to deal with him and even the multi ghoul’s patience has its limits.

When they get settled in the hotel for the night, Swiss just wordlessly hauls the grumpy fire ghoul into their room before he can start a fresh argument in the hotel lobby. Swiss has given up trying to help. He sighs tiredly as Dew chucks his overnight bag to the floor, causing a loud thump. Dew flops on his bed and turns his back to Swiss with a growl. Swiss just shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, and disappears into the bathroom to shower. Dew is left to glower in solitude.

When the bathroom door clicks shut, Dew huffs and rolls onto his back. He doesn’t know what to do. How to get out of this funk. He knows the other’s are trying to help but he can’t lower his guard long enough to let them. Aether could fix this. He thinks. Aether always knew what to do to get Dew to chill. Be it forcing him into a cuddle pile, fucking him senseless, or even just letting Dew rage. Aether’s patience seemed neverending. No matter how long he was out of it, how many nasty things Dew said, Aether always forgave him.

As if on cue, Dew hears his phone buzz. He wrestles it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. Aether.

“Hey Firelily.” The text reads.

“Hey Aeth.”

“How’re you holding up?”

Dew snorts. “What do you think? I’m sure Mount already blabbed to you.” Dew instantly regrets it as soon as he hits send. Why is he like this? Here’s Aether, checking on him, obviously concerned about him, and all he can do is be a bitch.

“Yes, Mountain told me you weren’t feeling well. Is it the nightmares again?”

Dew is once again amazed at Aether’s uncanny ability to always find the root of the problem.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry Spark. I wish I could be there to help.”

But you’re not, is all Dew can think. He knows it’s not Aether’s fault. He’d be here if he could. But he’s not.

Even though he holds back from typing it, Aether seems to know what he’s thinking anyway.

“You’ll be back home soon and then I’ll help in whatever way I can.” Aether promises.

“Thanks.”

Dew makes to toss his phone to the nightstand when it buzzes again.

“The others care about you too. They just want to help.”

Dew wants to make some jerky comment but he can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut to hold back the tears that have begun to form.

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to open up. They can’t help if you don’t let them.”

Dew sits in silence with that. He knows it. Truly he knows that everyone in the pack loves him and cares about him, and that they want to help. And yet all he’s done is push them away.

“Sweet dreams Dew.”

Dew does start to cry then. He so desperately needs a hug. Needs someone to wrap their arms around him and tell him everything will be alright. That they don’t hate him despite how horrible he’s been. Needs someone to hold him as he falls asleep and to protect him from the nightmares and nasty thoughts that plague his brain whenever he tries to relax. He curls up into a ball, tail wrapped around himself, as he sobs into the sheets.

He doesn’t hear as Swiss quietly opens the bathroom door, despite the water never running. He doesn’t see him round the corner. Swiss’ gentle touch on his back startles him and flinches; hissing and baring teeth. Dew watches in horror as Swiss’ expression goes from gentle concern, to hurt, to angry exasperation. Swiss grits his teeth and withdraws his hand. “Sorry.” He mutters as he turns away.

“Wait.” Dew forces the word out.

Swiss turns back, brow raised; unimpressed.

“I-I’m sorry.” Dew uncurls himself and sits up as fresh tears well in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

Swiss’ expression softens. He sits on the edge of the bed, giving Dew his space, and waits.

Dew trembles as he forces the words out between sobs. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. You guys were just trying to help.”

“Yeah, you’ve really been a shit recently.” Swiss agrees, teasingly rather than meanly.

Dew shrinks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

“Oh baby.” Swiss scoots a little closer. “We don’t hate you. Why do you think we haven’t thrown you off the tour bus yet?”

“But I probably deserve it at this point.” He whimpers.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Great, another thing I can’t do right.” Dew huffs and rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in it. Instead he just sounds disappointed in himself.

“Stop that. You can do plenty of things right.”

“Uh huh.” Dew frowns, unconvinced.

“Well first of all, you're the best lead guitarist I know.”

“That’s mean to Ifrit. And Alpha.”

“I don’t care. You’re better.” Dew gives him a look but Swiss continues. “You also make amazing pancakes.”

“That’s like the only thing I can do in the kitchen.”

“So? I love pancakes.”

Dew’s sobs have slowed to the occasional sniffle and a smile is threatening to break out so Swiss keeps going.

“And let's see. You’re pretty too. That doesn’t hurt.”

Dew makes a pouty face but Swiss interrupts before he can protest.

“You are. And I have excellent taste so you know it’s true.”

That does it and the corners of Dew’s lips are quivering upwards. He ducks his head in an attempt to hide.

“In fact, the only thing I can think of that you’re bad at is getting us to hate you.” Swiss closes the distance and nuzzles Dew’s head. “We love you, you little idiot. Don’t forget it, okay?” He purrs in Dew’s ear.

Rather than pull away, Dew leans into Swiss and rewards him for his efforts with a low purr of his own.

“Thanks Swiss.” Dew mumbles shyly.

“Of course Droplet.”

Dew suddenly looks up. “I need to apologize to the others.”

“That you do, but it can wait until the morning. Right now you need sleep.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go shower and change into comfy clothes. I showered back at the venue so I’ll get a nest set up.”

Dew does as he’s told and gets up. He shucks his boots and clothes on his way to the bathroom. The hot water does wonders, washing away sweat and his bad mood alike. He feels infinitely better as he towels off and slips into clean sweats. When he steps out of the bathroom, he finds a blanket nest on the bed as promised, Swiss ensconced in the middle.

“C’mere.” Swiss beckons and Dew hops on the bed and curls up next to him, his back to the multi ghoul’s chest. Swiss pulls a blanket over the two of them and starts to run his claws through Dew’s golden mane.

Once he gets all the tangles out, he starts to braid, humming softly. Dew can’t help but be reminded of Aether. The quintessence ghoul used to do this as well. He figures Aether probably told Swiss how to help and normally Dew would be angry. It’s something special and private. Aether is typically the only one Dew can truly open up with, and be this vulnerable around. But now, he finds he doesn’t mind. He lets himself relax for once as Swiss hums and whispers praise and affirmations.

Dew doesn’t know at what point he drifts off, just that for the first time in a while he’s slept peacefully. Nightmare free.

As soon as he sees the others at breakfast he apologizes. Despite his fears, they all forgive him immediately and he finds himself in the middle of a group hug. He doesn’t even feign dislike, and just lets himself enjoy being held. In their arms he feels warm, and safe, and loved.

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #aether ghoul #dewdrop/swiss #dewdrop/aether #fluff #sfw #hurt/comfort #ghoul cuddles #feelings #lys writes

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oishiyani · 4 months

Text

🦐 ; Another Owe

warnings ; none! this is entirely SFW

🦐 ; y/n fell into a swirling feeling of misery inside! don't worry akutagawa's there to rescue!

—also this is just a small drabble about one of the episodes in bsd WAN! i thought this would be a cute idea

"err.. looks like I lost it somewhere.." you whined in a tone of distress. Having one of the missing documents you were suppose to fill in supposedly went lost! that was even one of the last batch that you had to deal with!

'now how am i gonna tell the boss now..?' you thought.

you scratched the back of your head as you continued to travel every corner in the room, looked under every sofa and chairs, maybe in the drawers? no- you still couldn't find the missing document.

your back felt like it was experiencing a massive back pain from searching through the entire room, but in conclusion- it still wasn't found! you sighed.

"are you looking for this?" a voice spoke behind you.

you turned around to be met eyes with akutagawa, who was holding a document that you assume to be the one you're looking for.

you took a look of the document, looking closely into the text and finally recognized it as the last and missing piece of your work. You let out a sigh of relief with a smile next.

"oh yeah! this is the last of it thank god you found it!" it felt like the heavy weight on your shoulders had been released as soon as you recieved the paper from akutagawa. you thanked him and went on to arrange the final documents you finalized.

"tch, you should remember where you put your things. they're always scattered.." he commented.

"sorry, i owe you one again!" you replied.

oh y/n y/n y/n.. are you even aware of how much this man had helped you through such small needs and crisis? there was a never ending loop of how much your needs were need to be fulfilled but worry not! akutagawa is there for you at any time.

while you were arranging the stack of documents you had in your hands, a thought came up in your mind. it was akutagawa, but you started to realize how much he had helped you with so much list of stuff you needed throughout your time in the port mafia!

that time, when you were feeling a flu after delivering a mail the boss ordered you.

you opened the doors leading to the meeting room of the port mafia, seeing that nobody was in the room.

your breath was starting to hitch- your body felt quite hot than before, lastly you felt like fainting. you

sat down to one of the long sofas and laid there 'till you didn't realize yourself that you had fallen asleep.

later on waking up with the feeling of something comfy under your head. you lit your eyes a bit- vision was blurry but as soon as sight cleared, you sat up and noticed a comfy pillow was what was underneath you.

at the corner of your eye, the sight of a glass of water and what seemed to be medicine pill sat across the table not far from you.

you heard the sound of a door open. you looked to its direction to see akutagawa again, with both of his hands in his pockets he walked to you.

"hirotsu provided that for you, when he entered the room- he saw that your breathing was shortening and upon checking your temperature from your forehead. he said it was hot."

"you have a flu y/n."

you stared at him then shifted your gaze back to the medicine hirotsu gave you, you let out another smile. "then i have to thank him as soon as i see him, thanks for informing me akutagawa." you replied.

while staring at the objects on the table, a sound of a loud thud occurred. you looked to where it came and saw..

a whole box of.. yogurt drink 10 billion lactobacillus cells?!

you were taken aback, not sure of how to react- yet you didn't know what were those for.. you stared at it blankly not until akutagawa let out a cough, eyes closed with fist formed on his mouth as he did.

a faint red shade on his cheeks where you didn't seem to notice. that's good.

"drink those, it'll help with your flu." he said as he retreated back his ability that seemed to carry the box of yogurt drinks for him.

akutagawa exited back to the door, still leaving you in a confused state.

the next day, you felt more better than yesterday. being stable enough to walk through the base of the port mafia.

you entered the meeting room yet again, you were met with your fellow workmates. Hirotsu, Tachihara, and Gin. they all sat except for Tachihara, leaning on the sofa with arms crossed.

"hello Y/N, how have you been feeling?" Hirotsu greeted as you walked in. "greater than ever! thank you for the medicine you gave me Hirotsu-san!" you happily thanked.

"say.. akutagawa gave me a box of those yogurt drinks called 10 million lacto- uh.. i forgot but there were tons of them! he told me to drink those.. but I only finished 3 so far.."

"HE GAVE YOU WHAT?!" Tachihara yelled.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you're not suppose to give those to people who have a flu! how can they down something that thick?!" he said in a frustrated tone.

"oh? so that's why he bought a box of those.." Gin said, everyone looked at her.

"yesterday around noon, I saw my brother walking around the city and I happened to get a glimpse of him stopping by a store. But I had no clue why he was there, i went on with my day after that." Gin said.

Hirotsu took a sip of his tea, "hm, yesterday he asked me where was y/n, when i told him you were resting and had a flu, he left off in a haste." he said.

akutagawa bought those for you? no way he did! that must cost a lot and he didn't need to buy that much!

"well next time, advise your brother not to buy a damn yogurt drink and instead buy something else!" Tachihara commented.

"i've never seen my brother buy something for someone that much. (aside from dazai..)" Gin said.

"i owe him another one yet again.."

#bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd x you #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa x y/n #akutagawa x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bungo stray dogs imagine

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hms-no-fun · 4 months

Note

i just want you to know that i read... i think Most of godfeels and had to stop because i was not enjoying it. but i think its really good and i really respect what you do. i think it's all too easy for people to mix up "this is not my cup of tea" with "this is bad and/or problematic". they dont take the time to see the artistry in it, why it is what it is, what it might be saying beyond their surface level read and the kneejerk reaction to it.

i also wanted to note that ive always been kind of scared of sharing fanworks for fear of writing "out of character" - and ive also even been afraid of it in original works. character isn't real and concrete, so anyone can decide something's out of character. so your exploration of that concept gives me more confidence as a writer. i really appreciate that and everything else you do. :)

thank you so much for this message! i'm glad you tapped out rather than force your way through something you weren't enjoying, that's a very mature response and something i wish more folks would recognize as a perfectly valid option. in fact i think pushing through and reading long after you've given up on the material, so to speak, is a great way to wind up angry at a writer for having "forced" you to endure such a trying experience. as i've said before, an author can't force you to do anything. you can close the book any time you like.

as far as the tension of "in character/out of character" goes, i think a lot of people in fandom struggle with the fact that "character" is very much in the eye of the beholder. sub-groups form within fandoms based on identities, politics, sexual predilections, etc, and typically gather around the fire that is their particular interpretation of a character. but from within that sub-group, it's rarely considered "an interpretation" so much as the obvious intended truth of the text. it's that intoxicating mood of finding people who share a perspective you rarely see elsewhere, like oh my god, you GET it, finally someone GETS it!

in homestuck fandom, for instance, quite a lot of people hate vriska and think she sucks, with a vocal sub-group of that sub-group still actively beating the drum that everything about her arc after [S] Game Over is the worst part of homestuck. but i love vriska, and my corner of the fandom very much organized around a full-throated defense of her. some folks think homestuck did tavros and gamzee dirty and that this is a fatal flaw in the text; when i countenance these people, i am convinced we read two very different comics. who's right and who's wrong? there are degrees. i can pull out any number of quotes from andrew hussie about the importance of vriska and the weenieness of tavros, but then, authors love to say things, and there's plenty of stories i love in ways that directly oppose to the authors' stated intent. the debate can never end because we are only ever talking about the version of a character or story that exists in our heads, based on the things that stuck with us when we read the thing (however long ago that was-- which is important because i find a LOT of people adamantly defending their headcanons haven't read the source text in a number of years. as time passes, your perception of the media you've experienced in the past morphs and distorts. someone who was right five years ago can be wrong today and not even notice the difference).

something i've realized in the last year is how much godfeels emerged from a very specific milieu, not just in terms of how we interpreted certain characters but in our approach to analyzing and talking about the text altogether. i believe most of the important stuff in godfeels is "in character" in most of the ways that matter, but it's built on a very specific meta that centered vrisrezi and transness and radical leftist politics and experimental hypertext. really, it's a post-Epilogues fanwork even despite the fact that godfeels 1 predates their release by a few weeks. and i think to this day a lot of homestuck fans haven't read the epilogues but have read fandom posts about how terrible they are (quite a lot of which will have either been written by teens, by people who already didn't like homestuck very much, or by one of the regressive stalkery weirdos prominent in the homestuck reddit/discord), and that misapprehension keeps them in the dark about just how many amazing tools the epilogues introduce to the homestuck formula that exponentially expand the expressive possibilities of attentive fanworks. and it of course elides the fact that the homestuck epilogues are a story about being in your 30s. i think we'll be getting a big re-appraisal of the epilogues in 5-10 years. it'll be the "twin peaks: fire walk with me" of homestuck, just you wait.

so these readers see my version of dirk being an unhinged murderous dick to a newly-out trans woman and go "he would never do that." then if i point at the epilogues, they'll say "i didn't read them/they're not even canon/that wasn't in character either." at which point there's nothing really to say, because we have two completely different perceptions of the text. who's right and who's wrong is almost always infinitely subjective, a circumstance that humans are notable for being very good at handling in a mature and politely discursive manner.

so i've got an "author's introduction" to godfeels baking in my docs to provide some context about the meta this story is built on, the milieu it came out of, that sort of thing. it won't make much of a difference in practical terms, but it'll at least be something i can point to.

in any event, thanks for this message. all i ever want is for people to give it an honest shot. i hope you can continue harvesting confidence from wherever it can be found. it takes a lot of audacity and backbone to be an artist, especially when you have something worthwhile to say. remember that you're not writing for the haters, you're writing for the kind of person, like you, who wants to see more stories like the thing you're writing. they're the ones who'll get it, they're the ones who'll stick around long after the haters have lost interest.

#sarahposts #in character #out of character #homestuck #godfeels #fanworks #writing advice #headcanon #fandom #long post

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kayhi808 · 7 months

Text

Company Party

You were never one for big parties. Always preferring intimate get-togethers. You're attending your boyfriend's company Christmas party. The ballroom of the hotel is elegant and beautiful. Decorated in red, gold & silver, its truly a festive wonderland. The twinkling lights and the soft Christmas music in the background lightens your mood.

Your relationship with John has been deteriorating but you tell yourself it's work stress. The stress of the holidays. You tell yourself once the holidays are over you'll talk things over and work it out.

Even though you're seated at John's side, he's pretty much ignored you all evening. His coworkers' dates seem to all know each other. They've met before. John's never invited you along to go out with his team. Their inside jokes fly over your head. You sit with a forced smile trying to keep up. Follow along. The feeling of being an outsider becoming very apparent to you.

"You want something to drink?" John finally acknowledges you.

"Sure, a Coke please," you smile up at him but he's already turned to the rest of the table, taking his friends drink orders.

He returns passing out bottles of beer and made a point of delivering a cocktail to his coworker, Robyn. You watch him with unease as he leans in a little too close to her. A knot starts forming in your belly. He smiles at her with the smile he used to give to you. He returns to his seat next to you and drinks his beer. You stare at him, "What??" He gives you an exasperated look.

"I'm kind of parched. Where's my Coke??" You hiss out sassily.

"Oh, you want me to go back to the bar?"

"You can remember HER drink but you can't remember mine?" HER in question gives you a surprised wide-eyed look. Keeping your voice low, "Who is she, to you?"

Knowing he messed up, "She's just a co-worker. Stop being crazy."

You've never felt so humiliated. You fold your napkin and replace in on the table, pushing your chair back. You grab your bag, leaving the ballroom. Expecting John to follow you out but he never comes. He stays in the party.

Part of you is so angry you want to go in there and cause a scene, but what good will it do? You'll end up feeling even more humiliated. He obviously doesn't give a shit. You sit in one of the lounge chairs trying to decide what to do. You repeat to yourself that it's over. You're done. You take out your phone and break up with John through a text. He's not even worth your time. If he wanted to make things right, he would have followed you out here. Tears start to fall and you brush them away.

"What's got you so upset, Darlin'?" Bill Russo, John's boss, crouches down in front of you, dropping a hand on your knee. You didn't even hear him approach. John's never introduced you to him, but Anvil is a prominent company and Mr Russo is frequently in the society pages. You know who he is.

Embarrassed, "Oh, it's nothing. It's been a long rough day," you sigh. "I was going to head home early."

"Have you eaten? I don't believe they've served dinner yet," nodding back at the ballroom.

"No, I'm going to head home, thank you though."

Lifting his hand from your knee, he holds it out to you, "Bill Russo, by the way." You place your hand in his and he smiles while you tell him your name. His warm hand surrounding your chilled one gives you shivers.

"Come, join me for dinner. There's an excellent Italian restaurant upstairs. Everything will seem better after a good meal." Not releasing your hand, he pulls you to your feet as he stands.

"But...your party is here."

He shrugs, "Nobody wants the boss at these parties." Again, with a coaxing smile he gently tugs you towards the bay of elevators. "Please join me for dinner."

You silently follow.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine

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kasienda · 6 months

Text

A Miraculous Reveal - Rings True

Post Season Five - Angst w/ a very happy ending

Summary: Ladybug hits send on her text to Chat Noir, telling him who Monarch is. She tells Adrien a very different story. Adrien doesn't know what to make of it, but he thinks he deserves the truth. Thanks to @coffeebanana, @wackus-bonkus-maximus, and @nemaliwrites for the beta read. This hits just a bit harder because of your input.

Read on Ao3

A Miraculous Reveal - Rings True

I figured out who Monarch is. He’s Gabriel Agreste. Meet me at the Agreste Mansion .

Chat Noir stares at the text and then glances up once again at the imposing statue erected in his father’s honor. Because his father apparently sacrificed himself to help Ladybug defeat Monarch.

He shivers in the winter morning air.

Both of those realities can’t be true.

Chat Noir falls to the ground, his father’s oversized form blocking out the sun’s glare. He has no idea what he was feeling, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. He just sits there, gravel from the pavement digging through his suit, barely aware of the passersby chattering about his unexpected presence. He can’t hear what they’re saying with his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. His stomach is so sour he thinks he might throw up, and his hands shake hard enough he’s not certain he will keep hold of his baton.

His father’s gone.

He wished for this. Adrien wanted the man who wouldn’t let him make his own choices or live his life gone. And him being Monarch made all of that worse somehow.

How many times had Adrien wished Monarch dead?

Well, now he was.

But Ladybug told him to his face, as Adrien, that his father gave up everything so he could be happy.

Adrien can’t believe it. His father had never cared about Adrien’s happiness. That had never been more clear than when he shipped Adrien off to London to be the poster child alongside Kagami for the Alliance rings or whatever else his father had in mind.

It’s far, far easier to believe his father had been Monarch.

But why did Ladybug lie?

He doesn’t have to contemplate the question long. She lands next to him and he scrambles to his feet, his shoulders tense as he turns to her. She asked to meet him this morning, it’s the first time he’s seen her since he failed to show up to fight Monarch. Is she angry with him? She doesn’t look angry, but she doesn’t look happy either.

She very noticeably does not look at the monument.

“Can we talk anywhere but here?” Her voice shakes. And it’s amazing how just that small sign of anxiety from her makes his own turmoil abate.

For the moment, at least.

He clears his throat. “Lead the way.” His voice sounds like gravel.

She takes off, and he launches himself in pursuit, not paying any attention to where they’re going. He just follows the flash of red as he always does.

They eventually settle on an ordinary rooftop away from prying eyes. She doesn’t speak. She stares at the blank brick wall in front of them as if it holds all the answers of the universe.

Every moment of silence eats at him, bringing back the clammy feeling in his neck and the sour churn in his stomach. He can’t stand it.

“M’lady?”

She glances at him and visibly swallows.

“Are you okay?”

Her hands grip the edge of the roof and her gaze drops. She shakes her head and her eyes well with tears.

His hand covers hers immediately. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

She leans into his shoulder and his arm comes around her immediately.

She breaks down into tears immediately, and he just holds her as she cries herself out.

“I wish you were there,” she whispers, and his chest tightens in guilt. “I don’t know that it would have made any difference, but–” her head nuzzles further into his shoulder, “–I would have felt better with you there.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks again. He shouldn’t have given into his nightmare. He could have broken out of his father’s prison. It apparently wouldn’t have even mattered that it would have revealed his identity.

Monarch was dead.

She shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t know either. I was there for another reason entirely.”

He wants to ask what that reason was, but now that she’s talking, he’s unwilling to interrupt.

“Discovering his identity was an accident. The miraculized robots were everywhere. They were tracking my active miraculous somehow. I had to detransform. He had me cornered. Thank god you sent Plagg. The tides shifted then! And I had him!”

Her face falls and she buries her eyes in her closed fists.

“I was so stupid! I thought I could convince him to give it up for Adrien.”

His throat tightens. It isn’t surprising that his father wouldn’t. But hearing her say it still somehow hurts.

Adrien had never been enough, not for his father.

He blinks furiously to fend off the unwanted tears.

“So why is there a statue of Monarch in the middle of Paris?” he croaks. “Why did you lie to Adrien?”

He doesn’t mean for it to be an accusation. He needs to know.

But she recoils violently. “It wasn’t a lie!”

He frowns. “But—“

Her face crumples and her body shakes like an earthquake. She breaks down into wracking sobs all over again. “I lost , Chaton. I trusted him. I wanted to be able to heal their relationship. He took all the miraculouses - including the Ladybug and the Black Cat. He made a wish.”

Adrien sucks in a breath.

“But something I said must have gotten through because he changed his wish. He didn’t wish for his wife to be revived. He joined her in death instead. Then all the miraculouses minus the butterfly were returned to me. Before he did it, he asked me to make sure Adrien remembered him fondly.”

Adrien tastes bile. Seriously? His father wanted Adrien to think well of him?

“So I only told Adrien the good parts. But I didn’t lie . Gabriel did sacrifice himself for his son’s happiness in the end. He did help me defeat Monarch.”

Adrien’s claws dig into his knee. His father may have said he did it for Adrien, but that’s what he always said. That’s what he said when he wouldn’t let Adrien have a birthday party, or go play music with his friends, what he said when he had forbidden Adrien from being with Marinette and when he had Adrien shipped off to London.

But none of it was ever actually for Adrien. It never was.

His father hadn’t needed to make a wish at all. He didn’t have to leave. If he wanted Adrien to be happy, he could have come back and done things differently. “But it’s a lie.”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?!” he echoes hotly. “That’s what Gabriel did to his son all the time. Lied to him, made choices for him about what he was allowed to know and do, what Adrien was allowed to feel . He locked him up and sent him away from the people he loved most!”

His heart rises to his throat, his chest heaves up and down.

Ladybug stares at him, her eyes wide. “How do you know all that?”

He tries to meet her gaze, but he can’t do it. He feels exposed.

“And now you want Adrien to remember that man fondly?! Want him to think that his pain and frustration and anger are all something he imagined?!”

She cries harder. “But he deserves better than Gabriel,” she sobs.

Chat Noir took both her shoulders and squeezed them gently. “He deserves the truth. You need to tell him, M’lady.”

And he’s being ridiculous. He already knows, so what does it matter?

He just wants her to be the one to tell him.

“But how do I do that?” Her words are barely louder than the wind. Tears slipdown her face.

“He deserves to know,” he says again.

She leans back into Chat’s chest. “You’re right. I just— I wish he didn’t have to go through all this.”

“He won’t be alone.”

He has Marinette, Nino, and Plagg.

He has her .

…

Ladybug doesn’t show up that night. Or the next. Adrien spends each evening pacing back and forth in front of his stupidly large glass window. He purposely kept his evenings clear - sending Marinette home early and begging Nathalie to let him eat alone in his room.

He was trying to make it easier for Ladybug to approach him.

But still, she hasn’t come. He doesn’t understand it. What is she waiting for? Does she not trust him as Chat Noir? Does she think Adrien can’t handle the truth?

Adrien throws himself backwards onto his bed. Each day he proves more irritable than the last, prone to snapping at everyone around him — even Marinette, who’s the absolutely last person who deserves his ire.

Five excruciating days later, she stands before him, wringing her gloved hands and all the tension that had been building up inside him like water against a dam for days, releases.

She’s here. She’s going to tell him.

He smiles at her. “What can I do for you, Ladybug?” he asks.

She doesn’t meet his gaze. She’s so worked up, he almost feels bad that he pushed her into this. He could have just volunteered as Chat Noir to talk to Adrien himself.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

She laughs darkly, and looks at him. “You should not be asking me that. I just… I have some things that I need to tell you, things I should have told you before. C-can we sit down for this?”

“Of course!” he says, walking her to the couch. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, no! I’m fine,” she says. “You should sit too.”

He sits next to her. She’s vibrating in her seat. Her legs are bouncing, her hands are fidgeting, she looks at him only to look away immediately.

She bolts to her feet and starts pacing in front of him. His eyes follow her.

“So umm…” Her hands flail around her. “You know how I told the city that your father helped me defeat Monarch?” The words come out of her in a rush, like she’s afraid if she stops she won’t get them out.

“Yes?”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Your father—” she looks at him now. “Well, he was Monarch.”

And there it is. The words are out. He almost wants to laugh. Instead, he lets out a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay?” she asks, kneeling down in front of him, and taking his hands.

He smiles again, and nods. “I… okay is not the word, but maybe? Thank you for telling me. It’s relieving in a way.”

“Relieving?” she repeats, her eyebrows arching in disbelief.

“Yeah, thinking of him as a hero after everything he had done to me… it didn’t feel right, but being angry with the person who helped Ladybug save all of Paris— well, that didn’t feel right either.”

“I— I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

He squeezes her hand.

“Why are you letting the whole city believe he was a hero?” he asks. It’s still the one bit that doesn’t make sense.

She offers him a pained smile. “Because I didn’t want anyone to know you had any association with the villains.”

He frowns. “You don’t need to do—“

She shakes her head sharply, cutting him off. “There’s more to it than that. This next part, Adrien. I…” she bites her lower lip. “I haven’t told anyone. Not even my partner.”

Every muscle in his body locks up.

“This is too sensitive, too personal. I feel like I shouldn’t even know.”

Her hands tremble, and he shivers. What could be so awful that it was worth letting all of Paris believe Monarch was a hero?

Ladybug’s finger taps the rings on his left hand - and he glances down at his parents’ wedding rings.

“These aren’t ordinary rings. They’re amoks.”

“Amoks?” he repeats. “Like for a sentimonster?”

“Sentibeings,” she corrects. “These are your amoks.”

Did his father leave sentimonsters running around? Ones that Adrien is now responsible for? How awful was—

Ladybug watches him carefully. She’s biting her lip again, her eyes wide, clearly bracing herself for his reaction.

He missed the mark. The rings are suddenly all he can see. These are his amoks.

He hunches forward, his shoulders feeling like lead. He gasps for air that won’t fill his lungs. It feels like the ground has opened up underneath him and swallowed him whole.

Ladybug’s arms wrap around him, she cradles his head against her chest. She strokes his hair like he’s a small child needing to be soothed.

“I’m a… sentimonster.”

She shakes her head violently. “Senti- being. ”

He laughs, the sound hysterical and unbelieving even in his own ears.

“But yes, you were created with the peacock miraculous.”

He’s a sentimonster.

His whole life is stored in a pair of rings .

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you this,” Ladybug says, tears slipping over her mask. “I wish you didn’t have to know.”

His eyes fly up to her face. Ladybug almost didn’t tell him. If Chat Noir hadn’t convinced her, would he have ever known?

Suddenly, he’s furious. “You weren’t going to tell me.”

“Adrien, I swear I returned the rings to you the second I understood what they were.”

“What if I had taken them off or given them away?!”

Then her words catch up to him.

“Wait. You didn’t give me these rings. It was… Marinette?”

Her eyes flood with tears. It’s confirmation enough.

He scuttles backward so fast the couch tips over. He shoves himself across the floor further, needing to be away from her.

“Adrien! Please!” she begs, reaching for him on her knees.

She’s Marinette.

He sobs brokenly, shaking his head. “I don’t understand! Why would you keep this from me?! I thought Ladybug, at least, had no idea what my father was like. But you? Marinette! You stood against him time and again. And now you cave to him?! To lie to me?!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you! I wanted you to be as happy as possible given everything that has happened.”

He caves in on himself - he cradles his neck, and buries his head between his knees, rocking back and forth.

“Adrien?” she asks, her hand hovering over his shoulder. He flinches from her, and she backs away.

“I’m sorry!” she cries.

“You know, when I read your text the first time, I felt relief . My father was Monarch. That sucked, but it also felt like a puzzle piece had snapped into place. Something that made sense .”

“What text?”

“Then you showed up to talk to me, and you fed me a completely different story! My father, a hero?“ he laughs bitterly.

“Adrien—“

“When I told you that you needed to tell me, I didn’t think it mattered because I already knew. I wanted to hear it from you.”

Her eyes blow open wide and her mouth falls open into a horrified “oh”.

“Chaton?” she asks, her voice cracking.

“If I hadn’t done that, would you have ever told me?”

Her cries only intensify and she doesn’t answer him, but for once, he’s unmoved by her tears. He can’t ever remember being so angry with her.

“You’re just like him.”

The look on her face is pure devastation. He can’t bring himself to care.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs.

“Why didn’t you just use the rings?”

“What do you mean?” Her voice is so quiet he barely hears her.

“If you wanted me to be happy, couldn’t you have just ordered me to be happy?”

“Adrien! That’s horrible!”

“Is it?! How is it any different than what you did?! You told me lies to manipulate my feelings! Made me believe in something that you knew wasn’t true. The rings just would have made it easier.”

“I would never do that to you!”

“But you did!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t understand! I never wanted to hurt you. I love you.”

“That just makes it worse.”

“Adrien, please.” She reaches for him again. And he pulls away.

“I can’t do this right now.”

She stares at him, her eyes glassy. “Adrien–”

“Just go!” he shouts.

And she does. And he’s not entirely certain that he wants her to come back.

…

She keeps calling him. She calls him so many times that first night he loses track. She leaves him messages almost every time. He listens to every single one the second it comes in.

She apologizes profusely again and again. She cries until her voice is sandpaper, and then she cries more. She understands why he’s angry and she knows what she did wrong.

He wants to forgive her. He does.

But he doesn’t know how.

Two days go by, and he still doesn’t take any of her calls. But he continues to listen to every message.

His phone rings again, but it’s Alya.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answers cautiously.

“How are you doing?” And it’s definitely Alya talking — not Marinette and he relaxes.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Are you asking because you want to know, or because Marinette does?”

“I won’t tell Marinette anything if you don’t want me to, but whatever happened between the two of you, know that she has always loved you.”

He squeezes his eyes closed. He doesn’t even doubt that. But his parents had loved him too. He twists his amoks around his finger. That hadn’t stopped either of them from controlling and manipulating him.

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” he says.

Alya’s silent for a moment. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” she asks softly.

“I didn’t used to,” he admits. “But now… now, I don’t know where I stand with anyone.”

“I can only imagine how hard it must be to process everything about your father.”

“Yeah, everything about my father,” he echoes dully. Alya doesn’t know even half of it—

“It’s so messed up,” she commiserates. “Especially given who you all turned out to be.”

Unless she already knows all of it. Because she’s Ladybug’s best friend!

“How long have you known?” he asks, trying to keep his tone even, but it probably just comes out cold.

“Known what?”

“That I’m Chat Noir, she’s Ladybug, and my father was fucking Monarch?!”

“Adrien, listen—“

Adrien’s tired of listening.

“—she had a total meltdown.”

“She told you before she told me, didn’t she?”

“Adrien–”

He’s shaking his head even though she can’t see him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought it should come from her! ”

“Did she also tell you I’m a sentimonster and she wasn’t going to tell me?!”

“A what?! Adrien!—“

He hangs up. He tries to take solace from the fact that Marinette hadn’t told Alya or Chat Noir about Adrien being a sentimonster. She had some lines she wouldn’t cross at least.

But it’s not enough. She hadn’t planned on telling him either.

He twists the rings on his finger. What if he had taken them off?

It’s the thought he can’t shake.

He calls Nino.

“Hey mec! What’s up?”

“Tell me you didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Did Marinette or Alya tell you about me?”

“Umm… I thought you already knew that Marinette liked you since you guys have been dating.”

And despite everything Adrien bursts out laughing. Nino definitely didn’t know anything.

“Dude! What is going on?”

“Can I come over?”

“Anytime, mec!” Nino exclaims enthusiastically! “You never have to ask.”

…

Adrien barely has time to knock before Nino whips the door open and yanks him inside and into a hug.

Adrien lets himself relax. Nino didn’t know anything. Nino never lied to him. If anything, Nino was stupidly forthcoming about his own secrets.

He can trust Nino.

Which gives him an idea. A terrible idea.

“Dude! How’ve you been holding up?”

Adrien shrugs. Before he can overthink it, he slips both of his amoks off his finger and presses them into Nino’s hands.

“Put these on,” he says.

Nino looks at the rings. “Are these wedding rings?” Nino asks.

“Technically, yes.”

“You proposing, mec? You could at least buy me dinner first.”

Adrien doesn’t laugh. “Just put them on. I want to try something. I’ll explain after.”

Nino slips the rings on without any hesitation. “Okay. Now what?”

Because Nino trusts him.

“Tell me to do something weird.”

“Weird like what?”

“I don’t know, something I wouldn’t normally do.”

Nino pulls out his phone and puts on a dance remix. “Alright dude. Dance like you’ve never danced before.”

Adrien throws himself into the moves, rolls with the music Nino’s music, he tells himself. It doesn’t feel like a compulsion. It feels like he wants to do it - almost like it’s his own idea. But he can’t stop either. And he wants to cry.

How many times had he tried to stand up to his father only to immediately fold once standing before him?

Even his maman! How many times had she sweet talked him into cooperating? She had always said he was an easy child. All he had ever wanted was to make them proud. Was any of it him?

Nino stops the music.

“Dude! You’re crying.”

He is, and yet, he’s still dancing. Another sob tears from his throat.

He’s not human. He’s a sentimonster, a puppet on strings, a plaything for his parents’ amusement.

“Stop it! What’s wrong?” Nino asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Adrien’s limbs still, and he falls to his knees, sobbing.

Nino is on the ground right next to him an instant later. “Talk to me, please.”

Adrien knows with that command, he can technically talk about anything, but he had come here to talk about one thing in particular.

“I’m a sentimonster,” he gasps. “I’ve been a sentimonster my whole life. Those,” he points to the rings on Nino’s pinky and ring finger, “are my amoks.”

Nino’s expression falls off his face. Then he tears the rings off his hands and slams them up against Adrien’s chest.

“Why would you ever give these to me?! Why would you give them to anyone?!”

“I just… wanted to know how they worked, what it felt like. I didn’t think you would use them if you knew.”

“Damn right, I wouldn’t!” Nino roared, his chest visibly heaving. “Please don’t put me in that position again!”

Adrien nods. “I’m sorry.”

“What the hell is going on? What do you mean you’re a sentimonster? They haven’t been around that long. Are you some kind of copy of my best friend?”

Adrien shakes his head. “I’m the original, one and only, Adrien Agreste. My father had the butterfly and the peacock since before I was born, and apparently for some reason —“ that Adrien hadn’t had time to even think about, let alone figure out. “—they raised a sentimonster instead of having a child using more natural methods.”

“Wait! Your father had the butterfly?! But that means—“

“He was Monarch,” Adrien says before Nino can.

“But Ladybug said—“

“Yeah well, Ladybug doesn’t have the best relationship with the truth,” he says bitterly. “She’s just like my father.”

Nino looks more shocked by that than anything else Adrien has said.

“What?” Adrien asks, unable to interpret Nino’s silence.

“Dude!” Nino exclaims like that explains everything. “You’ve always been Ladybug’s biggest fan!”

“That was before she tried to lie to me about my father! She wasn’t even going to tell me about being a sentimonster! She gave me back these rings without saying anything! What if I had lost one or taken them off? Or gave her one when I proposed?!”

“When you proposed?” Nino echoes. “To Ladybug?”

Adrien thunks his head against the wall. He hadn’t lasted twenty-four hours with her identity. She’s going to kill him.

“Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”

Nino’s head cocks to the side. “Marinette is Ladybug. Huh.”

“That doesn’t surprise you?”

“That’s definitely the least surprising thing you’ve said today. Not surprising at all really,” Nino says. “Okay, so we’re pissed at Maribug—“

“Cute.”

“—because she didn’t tell you about your father being an even worse dick than we already knew. And she didn’t tell you were a sentimonster. But then, how did you find out?”

“She told me.”

“But—“

Adrien sighs. He’s already screwed as it is. “She told me as Chat Noir.”

Nino is silent again. “You’re Chat Noir.”

“Yup.”

“And your dad was Monarch.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Mec! That’s so messed up.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So Maribug told Adrien the same thing she told the city?”

“Yeah, that he died a hero helping her defeat Monarch.”

“Gross,” Nino says. “Why would she want you to remember him with rose colored glasses?”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you think she killed him?”

Adrien freezes. The thought had never occurred to him because it’s incomprehensible. “No. There’s no way.”

“And she told Chat Noir - not knowing that she was talking to you - that you’re a sentimonster?”

“No, she only told Chat Noir that my father was Monarch.”

Nino hums.

“Just say it,” Adrien says.

“Well, I get that you’re pissed. I think I am too on your behalf. But I don’t think Marinette is anything like your father.”

“Go on.” Adrien wants to forgive her. He just needed a way to get there in his own head.

“The difference is Marinette did tell you.”

“She wasn’t going to. I had to talk her into it.”

Nino nods. “ Exactly. She wasn’t going to, and then you explained your perspective and she changed her mind. She recognized that she was wrong, that you were right and she did what Marinette always does. She tried to fix it. Your dad would have only doubled down.”

“Or tried to akumatize someone over it,” Adrien adds darkly.

“Dude! He’s akumatized like every single one of your friends.”

His father hadn't wanted him to have any friends. Had his father ever seen him as a real person?

“Nino, do you still care about me knowing that I’m not real?”

“What the fuck kinda question is that? One, yes! I care about you more than almost anyone on this planet. And two, you are most definitely real .”

Adrien’s crying again, but Nino quickly seizes him in a hug. Adrien buries himself in Nino’s solid embrace, and he knows he’s going to be okay even if he’s not there yet.

…

It’s been four days since he shouted at Marinette to get out of his room.

She’s still calling him, and he covets every message, as a sign that she loves him despite what he is, that she hasn’t given up on him, or on them. He listens to them the second they show up, though he still hasn’t been able to bring himself to respond, though he thinks he might be getting close. He did send a message through Alya that he just wants some space and he’ll let her know when he’s ready to talk.

Most of her messages are similar in nature. She apologizes over and over, tells him that she loves him, and that she’ll do anything to make it up to him. She just doesn’t know what that is.

He thought that he might feel vindicated or something hearing her so small and contrite, but he doesn’t. He feels awful because as much as he was hurt, he doesn’t want her to hurt either.

He loves her.

Then her last two messages were drastically different in content.

“I learned that you were a Senti from Felix.” Her voice is subdued, like she’s narrating from a script. “He and Kagami are both sentis as well. They asked Ladybug for help.”

Figured that Felix told Ladybug without even telling him .

“I’m not sure they want anyone to know that, but I guess… even if you—“ her voice cracks and his chest clenches at the pain in her voice. “—even if you can’t forgive me, I-I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.”

She’s openly sobbing now. “I love you.”

The message abruptly ends.

The second message that day comes in hours later.

“I got Kagami to bully Felix into letting me talk to Dusuu!” Her voice is so different from the previous call. She sounds excited. She sounds like Ladybug with an idea. “The original amoks didn’t have a mind control feature. That was something the Guardians added at the same time they added it to the miraculouses to be able to control the Kwamis. If they added it, there’s gotta be a way to take it away, right?”

“I have a plan to free you all from your amoks. But there’s a hiccup. We’ll need the butterfly so I can give you the power to see your spiritual connection to the ring so you can cataclysm only the part that can control you. I know it’s dangerous. And we don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable, and we don’t have the butterfly right now anyway—“

Adrien smiles as Marinette rambles on. How had he never realized Ladybug and Marinette were the same? They think out loud in the exact same way.

Even though he asked for space, even though he wasn’t talking to her, even though she wasn’t certain they were going to remain a couple, she was still fighting for him.

He transforms immediately and lands just outside the bakery. He’s not sure if she’s even home, but he hopes that she is.

He takes the stairs two at a time. He hesitates before knocking. And before he can bridge the gap, the door flies open of its own accord.

Marinette drops her purse and stares at him. Her eyes are red and her usually neat pigtails are half falling out and completely uneven. She’s still in her pajamas though she had thrown a coat and a scarf over them.

She has never looked more beautiful.

He offers her a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry. You’re on your way out. I can— I can come back.” He starts to turn around.

She grabs his wrist. “No! Please don’t go.” Her voice is hoarse, and faint, like she’s afraid if she’s too loud he’ll bolt. “Wh-what do you wan— I mean, need? What do you need?”

He eyes her grip on his wrist, and she instantly lets go, and suddenly can’t meet his eyes.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

She nods. Her eyes are downcast, her shoulders are hunched in, and her arms are wrapped around her stomach. She’s been tearing herself up for all the days he didn’t speak to her.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can you look at me?”

She does, but her eyes water immediately, and he yanks her into his arms.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assures.

She falls to pieces in his arms. He rocks her harder, kisses her hair, and continues to hold her.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs.

“It’s… o—“ he cuts himself off before he can say it’s okay. Nino told him that was the one sentence he wasn’t allowed to say. “It’s going to be okay,” he says again.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m awful. I don’t know what I was thinking! You’re right to be so angry. You’re right to hate me!”

He laughs, and then cups either side of her face. Her blue eyes fill with tears and he aches for her. “M’lady, I could never ever hate you. I was hurt.”

“Of course you were!”

“And I needed some space.”

She nods against his hands.

“But I’ve been thinking, and Nino made me realize that I actually should be thanking you.”

“Thanking me?! For what?!”

“Because you told me.”

“But I wasn’t going to. Not until you convinced me to.”

“But then you did. You listened to me, and you trusted me as Chat Noir, and then you told me as Adrien. And I’m glad that I know now. I needed to know. No one else was ever going to tell me. And so, I’m really glad I have you, that you respected me enough to tell me this hard truth about my own life. My parents didn’t tell me. Nathalie never did, though she had to have known. And I don’t think she ever would have. Even Felix, and apparently Kagami, didn’t tell me though you think they’d get it better than anyone.”

“But I should have told you right away. I never should have lied.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, that’s true, but we all make mistakes. And when you realized you were wrong, you tried to fix it.” He held up his phone. “And you’re still trying to fix it. Even though it’s hard, even though I didn’t take it well. You still told me the truth when no one else did. And I just— I love you.”

He presses his forehead to hers. “Even when you make mistakes, even when you really piss me off, even when you’re not perfect, I love you. And I don’t think that will ever not be the case. Thank you for telling me, thank you for giving me some space to figure stuff out on my own, and if you’ll still have me, may I still be yours?”

“If I’ll still have you?” she repeats, aghast. “Shouldn’t it be if you’ll still have me?”

He shrugs again. “I’ve already said I still want to be your partner in every sense of the word, but I’ve had time to think about it while you were sending me message after message that you loved me. Even though I’m not even human.”

Her face contorts into pure rage. “Adrien Agreste! You are the most beautiful human being I have ever met in my life! You are kind. You give people second chances. You are persistent, and brave, and you have the dorkiest sense of humor. You drive me absolutely insane both with and without a mask, and I am so stupidly in love with you, I will absolutely still have you! And if you think—“

He cuts her off with a kiss. He’s going to spend the rest of his life with this girl if he has anything to say about it.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladynoir #ladrien #identity reveal #they fight #alya and nino are MVPs #they make up #happily ever after #my own content #a miraculous reveal #angst with a happy ending #rings true

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