#i have no clue where that came from but it is so far off base

[the-flying-robins]

"Bruce Wayne's a girldad!" - How? In what way?

Look, "girlhood" is not universal first of all, so it's a stupid point already. Secondly, what is it about Cass and Bruce's relationship that makes you think Daddy-Daughter bonding? Is it the extreme emotional repression? Is it the staging a no-holds-barred fight so you can work out your issues?

If it's just having a daughter/daughters that makes you a girldad, where's the "boydad"?

[lisired]

DREAM BOYS: slut me out

pairing: shy!jisung x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (before you tap it make sure you wrap it), oral (m) receiving, switch!jisung, switch!reader (at least i think so… i wanna say there’s not really strong dom/sub dynamics here)

summary: The Dream Boys are notorious for banging everything on campus with a pulse and breaking hearts, but every time you see Jisung, you can’t help but think he’s nothing like them; he can barely even look into your eyes.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this on a whim lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!

If I was a bad bitch,

I’d wanna fuck me too

There was something about Park Jisung that confused you to no end. 

For one, you wondered how a boy could be so awkward. You weren’t even this bad at your peak of social ineptitude, but he somehow seemed to always be shy and blushing. 

The most baffling thing about him, however, wasn’t just his timid personality and lack of confidence around the opposite sex. It was his ability to get along so well with people who were the complete opposite of him. 

Everybody at your school knew him and his friends collectively as the Dream Boys and they were notorious on campus for allegedly fucking every girl they set their sights on. You had no way of knowing how true that was, but based on nothing but vibes alone, most of them you didn’t doubt one bit. 

Mark, the sweet boy who posted bible quotes on his story every morning. Jeno, the intelligent one who obviously didn’t buy his way into college. Jaemin, the campus heartthrob everyone wanted to bring home to Mama. And Haechan, the party boy who was never not hungover. 

But Jisung was something different entirely. You had no idea why he hung out with them at all. Your interactions with him had been limited thus far, but he stammered out every sentence he spoke and could hardly maintain eye contact. 

There was no way in hell he was a whore. 

The school library had unfortunately become your second home over the past few weeks and you were lounging at a table with your friends when Ryujin whispered, “Looks like the Dream Boys are throwing another Halloween party this year. I hope there’s no more cum punch rumors. I almost threw up because of that shit.”

Yuna winced. Those rumors had positively ruined the drinking last year for everybody. “Dream Boys? More like fuckboys.”

You snickered. You didn’t have a clue where the name came from, but you couldn’t resist quipping, “And what did you think they dreamed about?”

“Pussy,” she answered without hesitation.

You laughed again. The boys were handsome, you would give them that, but they also gave the impression that they were carrying sexually transmitted infections yet to be unearthed by health authorities. 

Ryujin seemed like she was reading from her phone, probably gathering more information about the aforementioned party, and soon enough she chirped, “No worries, guys. Haechan just posted that there will not be any cum punch, but everyone should watch their drink.”

“I won’t be attending,” you replied with total disinterest. “Have fun potentially drinking some random dude’s kids.”

Ryujin groaned, but she had been expecting that response. It was no secret you had something against those boys because of their fuckboy reputation and while she didn’t blame you for that, she didn’t see it as an excuse to skip out on harmless fun. “You’re so boring.”

You shrugged, indifferent. “If boring means spending my free time watching Shemar Moore chase bad guys in two different universes, both of which he’s incredibly sexy in, instead of risking my tongue falling off, then I’ll be that.”

“You both are disgusting,” Yuna said in disapproval. “You want to fuck someone’s bald dad and Ryujin wants to fuck Haechan.”

Ryujin gawked. “That’s a lie!”

Yuna wasn’t convinced. “Admit it. The only reason you want to go to this party after last year’s fiasco is because you know Haechan will be there and you want to suck his dick until the foreskin dries up like a raisin.”

You made a face. The graphic description was putting unholy pictures in your mind that you would rather not see. “Yeah, I’m gonna go. You girls got that,” you told them as you rose from the table, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I will see you guys when I emerge from my Netflix binging.”

Meanwhile, Jisung was by himself in the break room of the local cafe he worked at trying desperately to think of something that would undo the boner in his pants before his co-workers saw him and teased him to hell and back. It wasn’t even because of a pretty customer this time. He was just daydreaming. 

Was it a smart thing to do while he was at work? No, maybe not. But he couldn’t help it. His mind had been filled with perverted thoughts lately. It was the second week of October and Jisung was attempting to get all of the sexual frustration out of his system before the start of No Nut November.

He had been the first one to lose last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. This year, he needed a turnaround. 

When his boner wouldn’t go down as soon as he’d hoped, Jisung ultimately decided to go wank it in the bathroom as quietly as possible and got back to work. And to his luck, you were standing right there at the counter waiting for someone to take your order. 

Jisung swallowed when he saw you. He had always found you gorgeous and seeing you after orgasming made his brain short-circuit. With a little plan to increase his body count another digit, he went up to the counter and put on his shyest performance. “Hello. What can I get for you today?”

Your brows furrowed. He didn’t sound as bashful as he looked. That said, he sounded like he was donning his customer service voice, and everybody knew that the person you were at work didn’t reflect your true self. “Hi, can I get the Jasmine green tea, please?”

Jisung kept his eyes trained to the screen the entire time, even though he wanted nothing more than to look at you. “Sure thing. Would you like any add-ons?”

“Tapioca pearls. Extra, please.”

God, the way you kept saying, “Please,” was driving him crazy. He knew you were simply being polite, which was more than he could say about some customers he got, but it was making him picture other situations where he could have you begging for him. 

“Will that be everything?” Jisung asked as if his thoughts hadn’t wandered somewhere dangerous.

You nodded your head, taking out your card. “That’s it.”

While you were temporarily distracted by having to pay, Jisung took the opportunity to get a better look at you. His eyes flitted to your lips that were coated in a clear gloss which made them look plumper. It was all he could do not to think about how perfect they would look wrapped around his cock.

“I heard you and your friends are throwing a party tonight,” you mentioned, waiting for your order to be processed. Not that you gave a damn. You just wanted something to talk about. 

Jisung was pleased you didn’t seem to notice his less than clean thoughts, but when you mentioned the party, he stifled a groan. “Yeah, I can’t go. I have a closing shift.”

“Damn, that must suck,” you replied, watching the hint of annoyance spread across his face. “When do you guys close, by the way? I was thinking about getting some work done.”

“We close at nine,” Jisung told you matter-of-factly. “Don’t you usually work in the library?”

You lifted a brow, smiling softly. “Are you keeping tabs?”

Jisung glanced away. Make no mistake, he wasn’t stalking you or anything, but he did happen to see you in the library whenever he popped inside. You were there more often than not. “I see you around every now and then.”

You hummed. “To answer your question, I do usually work in the library, but my friends are being insufferable today and I knew I wasn’t gonna get any work done around them, so I hopped ship.”

Jisung nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. My friends are pretty annoying at times too.”

You had an obvious disdain for boys in his group, but for some reason, you were always so nice to him. It was almost as if you had some kind of soft spot. Jisung wondered if he could manipulate that kindness. He figured you must have assumed he wasn’t as bad as the men he surrounded himself with, which couldn’t have been more wrong, but you didn’t need to know that. 

There was no opportunity for you to give him a response, because his co-worker placed your drink in front of you, saying, “Here you go, one Jasmine green tea, extra tapioca pearls.”

You thanked them and glanced back at Jisung, telling him, “I’m gonna go find a seat,” and walked away. 

Jisung was disappointed, but it was better than you leaving. And in truth, it wasn’t so bad, because it gave him a little more time to think of a way of getting you to go home with him. He didn’t want to lose for the fourth year in a row since he started college, and you were a beautiful girl that thought highly of him for whatever reason. 

You were still lingering in the cafe a few hours later and it was that time of night where Jisung had to start excessively wiping counters to appear busy, because he didn’t expect many more customers. 

But you were the only customer in sight and he was the only employee at this hour, so he approached your table and inhaled a deep breath. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

You glanced up at him, wanting to giggle at how nervous he seemed for whatever reason, but resisting. “Sure.”

Jisung started fidgeting with the rings on his long fingers, which drew your attention to his hands, specifically how big they were. “Can I sit down?”

You wordlessly nodded over at the seat in front of you. 

With one more small glance in the direction of the door, which didn’t appear to be welcoming more customers any time soon, Jisung slid into the booth. You both sat there in silence until he finally willed himself to speak. “So, I was wondering… can I ask you a favor?”

You were tempted to respond with, I wasn’t aware I owed you any. But you were very curious to know where this was going, so you decided to let him get straight to the point. “Depends. What’s the favor?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” he asked. 

“Sure, I’ll promise,” you replied, nodding. “As long as you’re not about to ask me to hide a body.”

That threw Jisung off guard and he quickly shook his head. “What? No, of course not. Look, uh, I need a favor from you, but it’s something kinda…”

Pushing down the top of your laptop, you held your face in your hands and gave Jisung your undivided attention. You were beginning to suspect that it was a favor of a sexual nature. 

When you looked at him like that, Jisung glanced away. “It’s kinda embarrassing to say, but I was wondering… if I could come to your house.”

Now that was definitely a surprise. “My house?”

Jisung nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. I just…”

Your brows furrowed. Jisung had been to your apartment before. Once. Twice, if you counted him having to come back because he forgot his notebook. Either way, you weren’t necessarily friends and it only happened because of an assignment, the fact that the library had been completely packed, and your apartment was nearby. 

“Why?”

“Well… I wanted to know if you could help me with something.”

“You’re so vague,” you teased. “What do you need?”

Jisung exhaled a breath and decided he was just going to come out and say what he meant. “Listen, this is gonna be kinda weird, and if you say no I completely understand and will leave you alone for the rest of my life. But me and my friends are preparing for No Nut November and…”

“And you want to get all of the horny juice out of your system so you don’t nut on the first day like a loser,” you finished for him. It wasn’t that hard to guess, all things considered. “You know it doesn’t work like that, right?”

“It does,” he insisted. He said nothing else, waiting for you to either agree to blessing his cock tonight or let him suffer, and hoping you chose the former. 

You had already made your mind up, but you pretended to be uncertain, shrugging your shoulders. “Why me?”

Much to your surprise, Jisung didn’t skip a beat. “You’re the only girl I didn’t think would judge me.”

And that was exactly how he won you over, because you hurriedly began packing up your things to go home and get a shower before Jisung could get there. Maybe shave too. You didn’t go bald, but a little trim had never hurt anybody. 

Almost the very second his shift ended, Jisung was in his car growing increasingly more frustrated at every encountered red light as he drove as fast as he possibly could without going over the speed limit. 

When he rang the doorbell, you almost immediately answered the door, wearing nothing but a shirt that looked far too big for someone of your stature. “What took you so long?” you asked, widening the door so he could enter. 

“Lots of traffic tonight,” Jisung replied, waltzing inside your house as if his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest at the idea of getting fucked. 

You closed the door and led him to the bedroom. The soft, feminine smell of your body wash clung to you and the scent was already driving him crazy with lust. 

Jisung glanced around your bedroom, happy to be back here again. The last time he was inside your bedroom, he’d seen your panties spilling out of their drawer and it had taken everything in him to focus on the assignment at hand. 

His eyes fell to your delicious legs which were smooth and shiny. No doubt you had just gotten out of the shower. You got ready for him, which had to count for something. You had consented to fucking him, after all, so your interest in him couldn’t have been any more blatant. 

You plopped on your bed, noticing the way he was drinking in the sight of you. “Don’t just stand there,” you said, stifling a giggle. 

Jisung swallowed the unignorable lump in his throat. “What do you want me to do?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Come here.”

He took tentative steps towards your bed. It was adorably pink and fluffy, and he almost felt bad for knowing it was going to be ruined by the time he returned home. Then, he started thinking about what else was pink, and from that point on his mind began reeling with lewd thoughts. 

You had to pull Jisung onto the bed, shoving him onto his back. The gasp he made was cut off by your lips smashing against his as you kissed him like your life depended on it, gently tugging on his black hair. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, that was exactly what you wanted. 

It pleasantly surprised you that Jisung was a decent kisser. You could tell he had some kind of experience, which was fair since he was a grown man with very obvious needs, and your panties were pooling with arousal when his hands drifted to your waist as you straddled him, pulling you flush against his rapidly hardening cock. 

As if he wasn’t already struggling to breathe enough, you broke the kiss and began trailing your lips faintly over his jaw. Then his neck. Then his collarbone. He figured you would go down again to his chest, but you went back to his throat and started sucking and nibbling at the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Jisung panted, already worked up and you had barely done anything together so far. He was sure you could feel how hard he was, given that he was pressed right against you, but you went about kissing him as if you had no clue. 

His reactions did make you giggle smugly though, quite proud of yourself. The marks you were leaving at the base of his neck were going to be there for days. Maybe weeks. The room felt hotter now that you were making such a mess of him. He brought his hands up from your perfect waist to your under your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your breasts. 

It was your turn to gasp out. The soft sounds you made did wonders to turn him on. He cupped your chest in his big palms and let his thumb work over the stiffened nipple. All the while, you were beginning to grind against his bulge as your lips wandered here and there, drawing a guttural groan from Jisung’s throat. 

“Oh my god,” he said, stilling your hips with his strong hands. Something your body liked more than you cared to admit.

You met his eyes. They were filled with lust and desire and impatience. “Are you okay?”

Jisung nodded his head, glancing at your body. He was hoping you would get out of that shirt sooner than later. He wanted to see you. “It’s just…,” he trailed, his voice faint. “I’ve never done this before.”

You didn’t gawk. You didn’t laugh. There was no amusement nor was there any surprise. “That’s okay. We can take things slow, if you want.”

“I’d rather not. I like things fast,” Jisung insisted. 

You laughed. “Well, that can be arranged too. Have you ever had a blowjob?”

The thought of you sucking his cock alone nearly made a cold shudder wreck through Jisung’s body. “Once,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “It was a long time ago.”

“Now, we can���t have that,” you replied, crawling off of him to bring your attention to the very prominent bulge in his pants. You could tell he was big and that thought had you salivating. 

Jisung undid his pants hurriedly and tossed them to the ground like they meant nothing, giving you plenty enough time to ruffle through your drawer for something to tie your hair back with. 

With your hair out of the way, you patiently sat on your knees as he got just naked enough that you would be able to suck him off. Maybe deep down you had always wanted to. Jisung was exactly the type of guy you were into - the ones that looked away when a pretty girl complimented them and had a beautiful, shy smile. 

It didn’t surprise you that his cock was just as veiny as his hands were, but it did make your mouth run dry. 

“Sweet Jesus,” you mumbled underneath your breath, knowing that you were in for a treat. 

Jisung resisted a smirk. He knew he had a brag-worthy cock that was enough to make any woman lose her everlasting mind, whether she was going down on him or he was going inside her. You were no exception. Matter of fact, all it took was one look before you got a hold of his cock and spat on his pretty tip. 

He swore quietly, watching you attentively. There wasn’t even a need to get him hard because he had already stiffened from the way you were kissing him and grinding against his dick, so you got straight to work. 

You skipped the slow parts - the teasing bits with your tongue at the tip and base of his cock, and immediately went to the action. Jisung said he liked things fast and so that was exactly what you would give him. And he was going to take it like he’d asked.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” he cursed, clutching the sheets. You weren’t wasting any time and he almost couldn’t believe it. 

You hadn’t even waited before taking as much of him into your mouth as you could and that made Jisung’s head spin like he was about to explode. And in a way, that wasn’t necessarily untrue. He already knew this was going to be one of his shorter experiences, but definitely one of his better orgasms. 

Jisung groaned loudly. It was a shock, because he was one of the quietest boys you’d ever met, so it wasn’t too hard for you to guess that he was currently enjoying himself. The sound of his euphoric noises were making you horny and you could feel your panties getting even wetter. 

You wanted to fuck him so bad. It was killing you right now. He was just so perfect; so handsome and cute and easy to provoke. You wanted to draw the most sexy, uncontrollable reactions from him and watch what it did to his little male brain. 

Jisung could tell how much you wanted him and it only aroused him more. You were so fucking eager. You were going to town, sucking him off like you were in love with him, like you were worshiping him, and it got him off to an inexplicable extent. He couldn’t even begin to describe how your mouth felt sealed around him like you wanted to suck him completely dry. 

You ran your hands up his stomach, up his thighs. He was sensitive in more places than one, your touches making his breath hitch in his throat. 

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with all the stunts you were pulling.

Damn, already, you thought to yourself, wanting to chuckle. Not that you were actually even remotely surprised. You knew what you were doing; you were ruining him and taking a little piece of him to serve as a reminder of your victory. 

You didn’t slow down. If anything, you went even faster, your head bobbing up and down his shaft like you wanted to eat him for every meal of every goddamn day. Jisung winced his eyes clothed and accepted his fate, knowing he was merely seconds away from the heat in his stomach unfurling. 

With the last piece of his self-control officially waning now that you were sucking his dick like you had something to prove, Jisung involuntarily began thrusting into your mouth, messily fucking your throat with every intention of getting himself off. You let him. At the moment, you were just pleased you’d driven him mad. 

And that you knew for sure, because the buildup of ecstasy at short last began to overflow and Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. He gave one final long, deep moan as he released down your throat and clasped your sheets for purchase, convulsing with the effort. 

Jisung was shaking. When his eyes finally opened, all he saw was you swallowing his load even though he hadn’t asked you to, and it made him burn from the inside out. 

You grinned when he withdrew from your mouth and glanced up to meet his eyes, watching him struggle to find words. “You good?” you asked, shifting on your knees. 

Jisung nodded, but that word didn’t even begin to capture the feeling he had inside right now. That was a revolutionary nut. “I… yeah. I’m good.”

Getting up from your knees, you ignored the faint ache in them and asked, “Do you wanna fuck now?”

“God, yes,” Jisung replied in a heartbeat, stroking himself back rigid. It would happen in no time. 

When he was hard, he gathered you in his arms and tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed, a gasp escaping your mouth as your back met the mattress. Jisung ordered you to raise your hips, which you did on command, and he slipped your panties from underneath you to throw them wherever his pants were. Still unsatisfied, he tugged at your shirt too until you were completely naked.

The sight of you made him hold his breath. Your smooth skin and supple breasts and kissable tummy. He slipped a hand between your legs, wondering if he should return the favor before he fucked you, but he was surprised by how wet you had gotten from giving him pleasure. 

“You really are something else,” he mumbled, running his arousal-slicked fingers over his throbbing dick. 

You laughed, debating what to do with your legs, and ultimately deciding on draping them over his broad shoulders. Jisung groaned, having imagined one too many times how your cunt would feel as he pushed in and out of it silkily, and concluding that there was no point in drawing things out, he slipped between your slick folds. 

He growled in pleasure immediately, because both the way your pussy welcomed him in with ease and the way it invitingly throbbed around him was making him unravel. It was completely insane. The power you had over him right now was lethal and he couldn’t believe how wet and snug you were just for him. 

“Oh, god,” you moaned out, because suddenly your legs on him weren’t enough and you detangled them from his shoulders to wrap around his slim waist instead so that it would be easier to lock your arms around him as well. 

It took a long moment for Jisung to will himself to open his eyes, because they had been winced closed since the moment he felt you tightening around him. He looked you in the eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. 

You nodded your head. His cock was long and thick and veiny and everything in between. You were in a world between heaven and earth, elevating to the gods and struggling to stay grounded. “It’s perfect, baby. Fuck me just like that.”

Jisung felt dizzy. He knew he had been right in choosing you. It wasn’t every girl that could leave him on the cusp of insanity with both her throat and her pussy, and he was still reeling from the head you’d given him. His whole body was scalding with lust and passion as he reaped pleasure from your body with every labored thrust. 

You couldn’t get enough how he felt stroking against your walls and it showed in the way you were kneading and gushing around his cock. The tension in the air was exhilarating, throttling. You grappled his forearms to keep him close, not wanting to be separated when he was fucking you this good. 

“Can you say my name?” Jisung asked, his voice thick with desire. 

“Jisung,” you called out softly, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts in a perfect sync. You simply couldn’t help yourself. This would be your undoing. 

Jisung swore underneath his breath, unable to control the way his stammering hips reacted to the hint of breathlessness in your voice, and smoothed his palms over your beautiful, bare body. He ran his fingers over your cheek, your neck, your chest and your thighs. 

He knew he needed to make you come if he cared about not absolutely humiliating himself, because he was going to unravel in a matter of minutes. With that thought, he stuck his hand between your legs and thumbed your clit, asking, “How does that feel?”

You cried out his name again, shuddering with sensitivity. Your heart was hammering in your chest and pounding in your ears and the throbbing between your legs was brutal. If he was trying to finish you, it was working. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer. 

Jisung took that as a sign that you liked it and he continued rubbing the sensitive nub, all the while giving you those long, deep strokes you seemed to be enjoying. You couldn’t breathe through the ecstasy. The way he was stretching you out and bringing you high made you feel as if you could choke. 

You trembled beneath him, torn between taking his cock and arching away from the pleasure. “Oh my god. Fuck. I’m gonna come,” you said, feeling the sweat clinging to your skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was lying about being a virgin. 

That drew a grunt out of Jisung in anticipation. He didn’t stop touching your clit, didn’t stop stroking your sweet spot. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded your head vigorously. The rhythm of his thrusts and the relentlessness of his hand between your legs was going to make you see stars. Of that you were certain. Your mouth hung open, gasping for breath, struggling to breathe in the stuffy air. 

Then it finally rammed into you like a freight train and you let out a mangled cry of Jisung’s name as you reached your peak. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. You begged for mercy, overcome. Undone. Your face tensed and you throbbed around his cock over and over, your entire body unstill. 

When you tried to squirm away from it, Jisung held you securely in his arms so that you had no option but to take the pleasure he was giving you, and everything about it made you feel faint. 

He only released you when you went slack against the sheets, the most empty look in your stare as if your soul had been completely snatched from your body, and he couldn’t but moan. God fucking damn. 

Jisung kept fucking you through your orgasm, knowing that his was right around the corner, especially with how you had clamped around him like a noose as you came and the soft moans you were making as he tried to get himself off. It was classic mutually assured destruction. 

You were hyper aware of the wet sound of his hips smacking into yours echoing out on the walls, even wetter now that you had orgasmed on his cock. Knowing the effect he had on you somehow turned you on. You were still trying to collect yourself after having one hell of an orgasm, throwing your arms around his body again. 

“Mm. Jisung, come. I want you to come,” you purred, rubbing your hands down his back. 

Jisung was losing his mind. He knew he was a goner the second you said that and thus he begrudgingly withdrew from your soaked pussy, flipped you onto your stomach, and started to stroke himself the rest of the way with his fist. 

In a matter of seconds, he was groaning so close to and simultaneously too far from your ear, landing a stripe of his cum on your ass as he winced his eyes closed for the nth time. You looked behind you in time to see his face tensing and his lips parted in a perfect deep moan that had you clenching around nothing.

Jisung dropped beside you like a deadweight and tried to gather his breath. His mind was staggering from the orgasm and the tight feel of your cunt around his cock and he wasn’t going to be capable of thinking straight for the next hour or so. 

When you at last willed yourself to move, you brushed the hair out of his face and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung replied, nodding. “Are you?”

“I’m good,” you told him, grinning from ear to ear. You were hoping he wouldn’t leave without your number. The sex was a little too good not to happen again. 

Jisung bobbed his head again. He slowly sat up, knowing his head would spin if he got up too fast, and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You hummed in response, watching his back as he grabbed his pants and stepped out of the room. 

When he was in the bathroom, Jisung whipped out his phone from the pocket of his pants and texted his group chat. 

jisung: just lost my virginity for the 28th time not that i’m counting

mark: lmfaooo how long are these girls gon fall for that shit 

jeno: for real, he lies more than jaemin

jaemin: ntm on me. but i’m impressed he’s kept it up for this long 

haechan: come on. all he has to do is stutter and they’re like aweeee jisungie wungie is your cock heavy? here let me hold that for you

Jisung rolled his eyes and put his phone away. All he knew was the sex was amazing and he was coming back for seconds; you would be the perfect place to dump his cum before the start of November. 

And he wasn’t losing.

[jacaerysgf]

Ignored

Summary: Based on two requests; You had been best friends with Jacaerys since you were kids. But when he gets a girlfriend and joins the football team in college your whole life gets turned upside down and he's suddenly ditched you. A year after you are confronted by him and emotions spill to the surface.

w.c: 2.7k

c.w: Porn with plot, sub!jace, hand job, overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP), car sex, im not good at angry sex or mean stuff guys so sorry,

masterlist

One year. one fucking year since you’ve last spoken to him. You never imagined the two of you would end up like this.

He gets on the college football team and gets some hot girlfriend and suddenly he’s too good for you. You doubt he’s even noticed. It was slow to start, he started being busy during your weekly hang outs, then it would slip his mind to text you back, then he just suddenly stopped texting you. You had been replaced, you would always spend the holidays with his family but this past year you had seen Lucerys post on his insta holiday pictures and she was there instead. Everyone else in his family had reached out to you at some point. usually something along the lines of a happy holidays and that they hoped to see you soon, that they missed you. They even wished you happy birthday. He didn’t.

You had gotten to the point you stopped answering his family's texts, it made you feel sick when Lucerys asked if you would come to his birthday party and you didn’t have the heart to reply to him. You stopped checking their socials, even going as far as to mute them but you didn’t have the heart to unfollow them. then it would get too real, that the people you’ve considered family since you were basically a baby were no longer around.

You wish you didn’t miss him. You wish when started at your aunts gravestone he was not the face that appeared in your mind when you wished you had someone to comfort you. She had died six months ago, you hadn’t even bothered to text him about it. He met her a couple times, but its not like he would care now.

You do not cry for her anymore. Having come far enough in your grief, but you feel yourself come to a halt when you are walking through the graveyard and are stopped by a familiar family.

“Y/n?” You feel a knot grow in your throat. Why were they here? you could see lucerys was holding some flowers. “Hello.” What else are you supposed to say? You are frozen in place as lucerys walks over and throws his arms around you. “I missed you.” You try not to let your tears spill down your face as Lucerys pulls back and looks at you alarmed, “Are you okay?”

You laugh and cover your face with your hands, unable to even describe what you’re feeling. “You’re so tall.” Your voice cracks as you speak and he slaps you on the shoulder. “’Course i am, had to get taller than mr prince charming over there.”

You don’t want to look at him. You wish he was not even there. But you cannot help yourself the way your eyes drift to where Lucerys is referring to and you wish you hadn’t. He is as beautiful as he was the last day you saw him, he looks like he just came out of a romcom, a long trench coat covering him and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. You have no clue what he’s thinking, his face giving nothing away, cant take your eyes off him. The way his eyes have a gloss over them as he takes a couple steps towards you.

You swiftly turn away from his and notice rhaenyra standing at your side and she reaches out a grips your forearm. “It is so wonderful to see you dear.” You nod and smile at her, “It is always a pleasure Ms. Targaryen.” she hits your arm, “You stay away for a couple months and suddenly I’m Ms. Targaryen, call me rhaenyra dear you know better.” You want to correct her, tell her its been over a year. yet you don't, only nodding and apologizing to her.

“What are you doing here?” Its the first words he’s said to you in god knows how long. You swear your knees almost crumple at the sound of his voice. You want to punch him, spit in his face, you wish you hated him. “My aunt died.” You spit at the ground, you voice coming out angrier than you indented it to.

The people around you immediately flood around to give their condolences. You thank them, Lucerys especially kept you in a deep hug and mentioned how they came today to see rhaenyra's father but they'll make sure to stop by your aunt’s grave.

He says nothing. nothing at all. You hate him. You hate him so much. But you cant say no when they ask if you’ll join them to see viserys and your aunt. you cant even say no when they offer you to join them for dinner.

you two say nothing to each other, not until you say you’ll drive in your car on the way there and turn to walk towards it, still having the map to their house memorized until you are stopped, a hand gripping on your forearm.

“Can i ride with you?” You don't turn around to look at him. Continuing to stare straight ahead, your heart and head churning. You want to tell him no, that you don't wish to ever even see him again. “Please.”

“Fine.”

But you're a pussy. the biggest punk in the whole world as you watch him slide into the passenger seat as you close the drivers door. A silence fills the space between you two, you don't want to speak, a part of you hopes it will stay that way.

“What happened with us?” You harshly break at the red light and whip your head towards him. Rage boiling at your skin as you hiss at him, “What happened? What do you mean what happened? You're the one who ditched me!”

“What the fuck are you taking about?” “Oh so you’re just gonna act like you didn't fucking stop talking to me after you a girlfriend? What is her name? i don't even fucking know because you never introduced us.” A loud honk behind you forced you to turn your head away from him and back on the road, you swear your knuckles turned white from the pressure you were squeezing it.

“i-” “No. Because you know what Jace. Fuck you. Fuck you and your stupid face and your stupid girlfriend and your stupid friends because you fucking left me. You have no reason to sit around and ask me what the fuck happened between us because it was all because of you. i put in the effort to reach out i even sent you a fucking gift for your birthday because you couldn't spare the time to hang with me and you don't even text me a happy fucking birthday?!? Fuck you man.”

Your hands slam down on the wheel in frustration as you clench your jaw, the fucking nerve of this guy. You don’t even spare him another glance and he doesn't dare to say anything else for awhile. the drive is long, they were buried far out from your homes so the drive was over an hour.

it takes twenty minutes before he says anything. “I’m sorry.” It comes out strained, if you looked at him he would probably be crying but you do not dare look at him. “I wish i could explain to you why i did it, why i acted like that. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry i just think i liked the attention, i liked having people fawn over me. And her, fuck i don't know, i liked her sure, but she fucking cheated on me with one of the guys on the team, told me she only got with me to get closer to him. Its not an excuse, i should have never put what we had down the drain for someone that never really mattered because you, you matter to me more than anyone else. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, ill say it forever because i don't deserve your forgiveness.”

You pull over into a road side parking lot because you couldn't see the road anymore. Your eyes filled with tears as your shoulders shook with silent sobs, “I am sorry i made you feel this way, that you couldn't even come to me when she died, i liked it, i remember she gave me the toy car display i still have in my room fuck i can't even imagine how you must feel. I miss you. I miss you so much.”

You put your head against the wheel and allow yourself to sob. This is all you’ve wanted to hear for so long that now you have no clue how to feel. You want to tell him to fuck off. That he has no reason to be begging for your forgiveness now.

“Jacaerys,” You swear you hear it wrong, that you must be confused. He whimpers. “No please,” “Its dragged out in a way that has your stomach churning and you shift in your seat. “Don’t call me Jacaerys, Jace please.”

You must be strong. You cannot give into to his sad puppy eyes and cries. Yet you look over to him and feel your resolve crumble. He has tears streaming down his face. He’s looking at you. Has he been looking at you this whole time? “You left me Jace.” He lets out a trembled breath as he dares with shaky hands to grab yours. “I'm sorry. I will beg you to forgive me till the end of time because i will never deserve it. I need you.”

Your heart pounds against your chest as the two of you stare at one another. You feel your hands shake in his grip as the two of you unknowingly move closer to each other.

“I realized after i found out what she had done i was more upset about the fact you were not there more than anything. She had begged me to take her back but the only thing i could think about was you. I was so stupid and so blind i will never forgive myself. You are everything to me.”

“Jace,” He cups your cheeks and lets out a trembled breath, “I was a fool to let you go. I will never make that mistake again,” You cannot believe what is happening, he does not truly mean what you think he’s saying does he? “I had months to think it over. I am so madly in love with you. If you do not feel the same i will act like this never happened and we can just go back to being friends or even if you cannot stomach being around me we can just never talk but-”

He lets out a surprised moan as you shove your lips against his and eagerly pressed his lips against yours. He a lot more vocal than you had expected him to be, eagerly humming against your lips as his hands have moved to your neck.

He lets out a shocked gasp when you push him back into his seat and looks at you with wide eyes as you climb over his lap, pulling the level to have him lay over his back and simply stare at him as you hover above him. He whimpers as you grab the front of his shirt and pull him towards your face, “This is for me. Not you. Right?” He eagerly nods, more than willing to take anything you’ll give him.

He whines as you unbutton his black dress pants and waste no time shoving your hand past his boxers and gripping onto his dick. His head is thrown backwards as you rub your thumb against his tip, ignoring his mumbles until enough precum has dripped down onto your hand before you begin vigorously pumping him up and down.

You do not stop even as he’s asking you to slow down. Well you do, but it is always right before he’s about to come. You do this again. and again. and again. He feels like he’s about to burst, the stimulation is too much for him to bare.

“Please.” You tilt your head at him as he grips the front of your button down shirt. “What do you want?” Your words are spoken like he a stranger approaching you on the street, he whimpers and shoves his head into your chest, his tears threatening to spill out. “Please,”

“awe are you so fucked out you have no clue what you’re talking about huh?” He’s babbling nonsense as you feel his tears pool into your shirt. You fully remove your hands off him for the fourth time and he thinks he might crack. “Please no I’m sorry I’m sorry please please just let me,,” His words trail off as he watches you fully release him from his pants and boxers, his breath shaky as he watches you pool up your shirt and move to hover above him.

“Please please.” “Shut the fuck up.” He whimpers as his tip presses against your folds but you don’t him in enter yet, simply allowing his tip to be dragged up and down your slit. He throws his head back as the tears continue to flow down his face, he can’t take this, his hips rise up to try and thrust into you but you hold him down and spit at him. “You don’t know how to behave slut.”

He lets out a surprised gurgle of sounds when you suddenly slam all the way down onto him and lightly slap him across the face. “Are you happy now slut? You happy your little loser friend is fucking you stupid?”

He can barely speak as you begin to bounce up and down on him. He’s dreamed of this for much longer than he’d like to admit but this is much better than anything he could have imagined. The way your lightly let out sounds of delight are like music to his ears. He wishes he could say something but over the heat that flows over his body and the way he feels your hands slip under his shirt and begin to rub up and down his chest he can’t find the words.

He keeps his hands at his side, not knowing if he is allowed to touch you not wishing to upset you more than he already has. You notice the way his hands twitch and slightly raise as if he wants to reach out to you. You slow down for a moment to grab his hands and place them on your chest, a wordless exchange between the two of you as he stares at you in wonder. So much love fills his gaze you almost flush with embarrassment. You begin to pick up your pace once again as he fondles you over your clothes.

The pit grows larger in his stomach much faster than he would like but due to the overstimulation and the overflowing of emotions he’s on the edge. “I’m so close.”

“Hold it.” He whines and watches as one of your hands slip under your skirt, “You think you should be allowed to cum before me?” He shakes his head, of course not, he doesn’t deserve too.

He swears he almost cums from your blissed out face alone, but he is surprised he manages to contain himself until he feels you throb and your essence drips around him. You slowly lift off him and pump him until his cum drips down your hands.

The car windows are foggy, you have no clue how long you’ve been out here but the sun as begun to set as you allow yourself to fall against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically as his arms come to wrap around you.

“I don’t forgive you,” He feels his heart drop as he gulps, bracing himself for you to lift off him and drop him off at his house, never to speak to him again. “But i think i can one day, you just have to take me out on a couple dates first.”

He grins.

Perm Jacaerys taglist

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife @jacesvelaryons

[slasherflicks999]

new oc/sona yaaaaaay!

oh how i wish i had all those piercings (bridge come back to me💔)

can we guess where his name came from gang (suspiciously username shaped name)

i actually really enjoy his character design and i literally color picked his color pallet from a diagram(?) that shows how a bruise heals and it worked out LMAOO sooo new character design life hack

more info and lots of general yapping about him after the break if you care to read :3 and i yap a LOT i have lots to say about him bc its been a while since i genuinely developed an oc LMAO

cw for LOTS and LOTS of talk of death if you do decide to read! just in case :3

first of all you may be thinking “5’6? short king!” and i will have you know i actually made him taller than i am irl by a few inches LMAOOO whoops t boy swag will do that to ya

anyways the thing about his color pallet being based off of that of a literal bruise IS actually relevant because he is literally immortal and is CONSTANTLY getting injured like all the time. i think conveying info about characters via their color pallets is fun and i wanna do more of it so hehe. plus green and red and purple are a nice combo and it worked out very well :3 also another little note about his design: he’s a very creative and artistic person and i wanted to show that through his clothes being somehow modified and i think i did that well too. trying to properly get back into making actually decent and thoughtful character designs so im proud of myself :3

that being said his immortality causes him a SHIT load of problems. i feel like being immortal would really suck LMAO but more-so i feel like i dont see people do much with the idea of immortality in terms of horror or at least not from what i’ve seen. like im still figuring out his lore but the basics are: he has no clue who his dad is and found out he was immortal at a somewhat young age but literally his entire life he’s been viewed as just kind of off?? like he looks human and for the most part acts it but he just has certain traits that humans…. do not have. his eyes glow in pics like a nocturnal animal’s would and his teeth are suspiciously sharp and he gets weird cravings for raw meat which he can somehow digest perfectly fine with absolutely no issue but he’s not like OVERTLY some otherworldly creature he’s just a little weird. a tad strange even. possibly even kind of unsettling depending on who you ask.

and i like to imagine these are a lot of things that were present in his childhood too, like his mother would wake up to the sound of rummaging in the kitchen and find him at the ripe old age of five just gnawing at a whole raw steak in the dark. he’s just sort of always been like that and didn’t realize it was weird until he was older. (is a lot of this used as metaphors for undiagnosed neurodiversity/mental illness? …..iii dont knowwww :3 (yes) (although not every aspect of him is a total reflection of myself, he is still his own character in many respects lolol))

but in general this ends up causing him all sorts of issues in all sorts of millions of ways. for one he has sort of a fragile sense of self because he doesn’t even know what he is?? he knows he can’t just be a regular old human because of all the previously mentioned reasons and a few more, but that aside he has no idea what he is. he also doesn’t know pretty much anything about how his immortality works beyond what he’s experienced and what the others have told him during the times when he’s “dead,” he has no idea how his aging is affected by it because he seems to be aging relatively normally so far, he has no clue if he will EVER die for good/if there’s any way to kill him, he has no idea how his body seems to heal the most insane fatal injuries as if nothing happened, and much more quickly than a normal human would, he kinda doesn’t know jack shit about himself and it pisses him off a little bit!

it also has just caused him lots of trauma as you can probably imagine. lots of dissociation everywhere he looks

moving on to how his immortality actually works: like i said there’s only so much he knows about it but this is all the info he knows so far. he CAN “die” but all of his deaths are temporary. that is to say that his body will eventually heal and regenerate itself and he will come back. it’s not like deadpool where he can get stabbed in the head and go about the rest of his day like nothing happened, he might be able to keep himself up for a while to fight back or run away but it wont be long before he drops dead for a few days or so. during said time his body outwardly does seem very dead. he’s unresponsive and still and isn’t blinking or nothing and his pupils are blown (which he already has huge pupils but yk), like if you were to just show him to someone they’d be like “yeah that’s absolutely a corpse and also why would you show this to me.” but his body is still alive in a sense, it’s just sort of… yknow when you put a computer into sleep mode?? upon first glance it’s gonna look like it’s off but inwardly things are still going on. his body is still working to regenerate itself the whole time, even if whatever he sustained that “killed” him would very much not be healable or survivable by any normal person. in his POV, he just sort of gets knocked out for a while and then wakes up exhausted and sore and absolutely FAMISHED. like he could easily eat a horse without any exaggeration the boy can eat.

he’s also always been interested in horror and the supernatural and crime and shit and is largely desensitized to that sort of stuff from that + experiencing a lot of different deaths himself bc of the whole immortality thing paired with him being generally reckless when he was younger because what’s it gonna do? kill him? (“what’re you gonna do, jeff the kill me?” -him at jeff moments before being stabbed, probably) he says he doesn’t care but it actually effects him deeply in ways he doesn’t understand for a while. as he gets older he becomes less reckless and doesn’t throw himself into dangerous situations as often.

all that being said he’s not necessarily all that dangerous himself?? he carries his dagger around with him for protection or cutting up meat and apples or woodcarving more than anything and as a proxy he works a lot more as just an… observer. despite his name he’s not really all for the killing people stuff if he can help it unlike many of the others, if anything his name more so refers to the fact that HE’S usually the one getting slashed up. (it’s actually just bc of my username but shhhhhh) but generally he much prefers to be in the background keeping watch or scoping things out or just sort of… stalking people basically. dont ask me how he manages to be stealthy in THAT outfit… he manages somehow i swear 😔

but yknow overall he’s not an incredible threat to most people, the “creepy” part of him being a creepypasta comes a lot more just from how much it would suck to be in his shoes as just a guy who happens to be immortal but still able to experience the pain of death over and over again. he isn’t the creepy thing as much as his entire life experience is LOL. usually he’s just unsettling and disturbing at most.

he also has a VERY complex relationship with BEN in my AU specifically (WHICH RANDOM DISCLAIMER TIME: NOT THE LITTLE 12 YEAR OLD VERSION NOOOOO EW my au’s BEN is like a combo of “fanon” him and behavioral event network he is not 12 years old and i dont want him being shipped with anything NEAR that version of him, ONLY my AU’s version who is 19. im not a freak. 💔 they’re not a couple anyway (BEN🤝slasher -> being aro) but i did wanna preface that just in case bc im not trying to get misinterpreted like that) might write more about that sometime… bc their relationship has a lot of symbolism and complexity bc BEN is my fav character ever period and yes i am gonna write him and my self insert oc as being incredibly deeply intertwined bc i love him and cringe culture can kick rocks and therapy is difficult to get :3 oc x canon shippers platonic or romantic yall will always be safe on my blog frfr

im gonna post more about BEN soon too…. literally working on actually making a proper design for him rn which is mostly just difficult bc i cannot for the life of me think of what to give this freak to wear. i need them to serve cunt but like….. how do i do that 💔💔 that one BEN design i reblogged that gave him the adorable little heels….. absolutely genius………. u know who u are :3

more random rapid fire fun facts about him bc why not: he loves piercings and tattoos and body mods bc they heal so easily for him, he has his tongue split! (NEEEED to do one day actually my dream body mod), his immortality doesn’t seem to effect his ability to get sick which he HATES but when he does get sick it only lasts for a day or so and he’s a total drama queen the whole time, he loves to sew (though only by hand, he’s genuinely afraid of sewing machines) and will patch up or modify clothes for his friends or other proxies if they ask, his favorite kind of raw meat is boar, and his favorite cooked meat is a tie between pork (boar or domestic pig) and chicken, he wears his headphones most of the time bc he loves music and sounds can sometimes overstimulate him, and BEN can talk to him through them because of course he can, he loves animals and actually has way more empathy for them than for humans, and he absolutely LOVES medical dramas and does not care that a lot of the actual medical parts are inaccurate he will eat them up. he WILL be caught staying up until 6am watching chicago med and he will not apologize.

ANYWAY i think that’s about it actually. if anyone actually read all my ramblings…. i love u /p u mean very much to me /p

i WILL be yapping more soon (except probably about the actual “canon” pastas hehe) :3

[hyperbolicreverie]

an au of It's on the tip of his tongue where sanji recognizes law's accent 

Interesting! This diverges from the point in the fic where Robin originally realizes what Law's saying.

As Law stomps off, Sanji finds himself rooted to the deck where he's standing, memory tripping back through time to a point in his life he does his best not to linger on.

He's heard those same words before, said not in anger but in desperation, in the voice of a parent so driven to the edge that they'd sought help for their family's plight at the hands of the North Blue's old enemy. Because while Germa was anathema to any good citizen of the sea, their scientific prowess was undeniable, and medicine and society both had failed them so far. A deal with the devil was all they had left.

Sanji remembers Judge's interest in the Amber Lead, even before those wayward souls had landed on the Germa flotilla. He'd spoken at length about its potential as a toxin, as a resource to be exploited just like everything else that came under his thumb, and he'd complained at just how hard it was to get his hands on the stuff, now that the World Government had put on embargo on the material.

That family had been his chance.

He'd pulled the stuff out of those people just as he'd promised, but Sanji was pretty sure those afflicted hadn't survived the process. Judge never cared about relieving suffering with his methods, just what he could get from the results. At the very least, Sanji had never seen them again after they'd disappeared into the laboratories.

Eventually, Judge had discarded the idea of working with Amber Lead. It had been too unreliable a resource, and he'd disparaged it as being useless for his purposes. Just a shiny trinket that lesser peoples had used to adorn themselves, to their eventual ruin, and not worthy of Germa attention. He had turned to other endeavors, and the North Blue had driven the rest of the people of Flevance to extinction.

Well, all but one it seemed.

Law's fear was not an unfounded one; Sanji knew with bitter familiarity what fear looked like when it was based on lived experience. The fact that he'd survived was a miracle in itself, but Sanji had no doubt that it had been the rockiest of roads.

The question of how he'd survived wasn't a question at all: if Law could pull body swaps with something as nebulous as a personality, then removing poison from his body would be child's play, wouldn't it?

How old was the other captain, anyway? Older than him, he's pretty sure, but underneath the tired, grumpy old man demeanor, Law has one of those faces that's hard to accurately date. But...Sanji had been five when news of Flevance reached Germa. Unless Law is quite a bit older than he thinks, that brings to mind a whole host of horrors he does not have the bandwidth to entertain right now.

He fixed up the kids at Punk Hazard. He was as prickly as a sea urchin about it, and scared Chopper half to death, but he did.

"Sanji?" Robin's voice cuts through the frenetic pace his brain is going at.

He looks up, and sees the expression on her face. She knows, but of course she must know. If he had finally managed to put the clues together with just an old memory, then their language specialist knowing was no surprise at all. Still, it hurts to see the same fear and hurt he'd seen on Law reflected on her face, when they'd done so much to try to erase it.

Sometimes, things just struck far too close to home.

"I think," he says slowly. "That I am going to go make some onigiri."

Because if he needs to do something with his hands to process the enormity of what he's just learned, then the topic of those thoughts might as well benefit from it.

[kings-highway]

okay hear me out

an ushiten crime solving au storyline that functionally breaks down into a Sherlock VS. Dirk Gently adventure IE: brilliant, neurotic deductive logic and near perfect analysis VS. freewheeling psychic lunacy and good luck

they're both independant detectives and for whatever reason get stuck on a really complex murder case together (versus some horrifying almalgamation of a Moriarty from Blackwing) and have to properly team up but every interaction is just:

Ushijima, carefully scanning over the crime scene: from the displacement of the gravel we can tell there were five, maybe six people that came at once from three different entry points. they blitzed the victim with blunt weapons before dragging them south towards the window. the victim was probably still alive when they were taken. now what we need to-

Tendou, peeling paint chips off the wall and uncovering a secret message written 100 years ago beneath the paint layer: oooooh a clue what do you think it means?

Ushijima: Well... the paint of this wall is at least fifty years old, given the degredation, so whoever wrote these messages may not be connected at all, or, if they are, we may be about to face down a conspiracy far older than we initially-

Tendou: The old barn out by that farm! I bet thats where they took the victim

Ushijima:

Tendou:

Ushijima: BASED ON WHAT

Tendou, pointing at one of the symbols: this one sorta looks like a pony

[getvalentined]

Thinking about Vincent's involvement in the Queen's Blood storyline and how it's the perfect explanation for everything going south with the game in fairly recent history even though the game has canonically been around for decades. It's genuinely so clever, I'm in love.

So, for anyone who hasn't done the full questline, Vincent is the highest ranking Queen's Blood player in the entire game prior to facing off against the Shadowblood Queen herself and the completion of the questline. (After this, ranks are adjusted worldwide because of game mechanics; Nanaki is rank 10 in the QB Arena at Gold Saucer.)

A lot of people have poked fun at this, like Vincent apparently learned the game really fast and was just naturally really good at it—but no, actually, Vincent played the game before. He's this good because he was champion level back in the 70s, back when he was human.

We know this to be the case because when you match against Lidrehl, he says "the Emerald Witch sleeps in Nibelheim with a monster of chaos, and that is where it will remain." This means that Vincent already had the card when Hojo killed him. It's not clear how the Emerald Witch came into his possession, but you don't make his rank without being a very active player, so it's clear that he was very prolific in the scene back then!

And back then, it was just a game. No mysterious deaths or disappearances. The myth of the Shadowblood Queen and the Emerald Witch was still there, as Lidrehl developed the game based on the story, but everything was fine.

This is definitely because Vincent was active in the scene, and he had the Emerald Witch. The Rebirth Ultimania implies that the Shadowblood Queen is a piece of Jenova (which I thought was pretty obvious since she calls Cloud a "puppet" and he's also apparently the only one capable of facing her head-on), and the Emerald Witch is the soul of a Cetra that serves as the silent warden to her imprisonment within the game. (Imprisoning monsters in cards is not new to the series, either, since FF8 literally allowed players to turn monsters into cards rather than fighting them.) Vincent being so active in the circuit allowed him to spread the Emerald Witch's influence through the scene and kept the Shadowblood Queen quiet, reminded her to keep her head down, kept her from trying anything at risk of being spiritually shitmixed again.

But then Hojo killed Vincent, and the Cetra warden Emerald Witch was in his deck, and that deck was tucked away with his things in Nibelheim. And so she spent thirty years unable to perform her ongoing duty to assure the safety of the planet. This time allowed Jenova the Shadowblood Queen to regain the power and confidence to manifest and start wreaking havoc again, finally building up enough strength to directly possess her current holder—during the period that Sephiroth is calling for Reunion, which presumably helped to really draw her back to full consciousness.

There's a whole detailed storyline here that makes perfect sense, with Vincent's murder literally being the catalyst leading to the resurrection of the Shadowblood Queen, and Hojo never having a clue what he'd done.

This is super interesting to me not only because it actually showed some of the more far-reaching consequences of Vincent's death, but also because it indicates that Hojo has unwittingly been Jenova's most loyal emissary for decades. He gave her his wife, his son, himself—and the first murder he ever committed served to imprison the only power holding a piece of her thought lost to history at bay, allowing her to manifest decades later with her own will and personality completely intact, something that she can't do through Sephiroth.

As it turns out, Hojo and Vincent have been opposing forces in supporting fate's "chosen ones," the forces around them capable of choosing the final fate of the planet, for much longer than either of them ever thought.

Still not a huge fan of the card game itself, but I adore the way it's been woven into the story, and strengthened it as a result.

[jasntodds]

Penance [6]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 12,153

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, fluff, mentions of death, canon violence

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: We're getting into a little bit more fluff for a bit after this!! lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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You're on your side facing Jason as your hand laces through his white streak of hair. Jason's eyes look up, watching the strands fall back onto his forehead before he scrucnhes his nose at you and takes your hand in his. His fingers interlace with yours before he kisses the top of your hand.

He thinks of what life could have been like had he hadn't gone to Crane. It's a bit funny because Jason didn't think too much about a life after the manor. Not far into the future but it was always looked at as more of a backup plan. Bruce would inevitably get tired of him and Jason would need a plan to survive. His plans were never anything more than survival-based. But, he has his hand in yours and you're giving him this look that makes him want to melt into his sheets. And he thinks about what it could be like now if you can keep this up, talk it out eventually.

You let him think about a possible future that is not survival-based. Instead, he thinks about fixing up the place and you helping in exchange for some food -- which you would have done anyway. And you'd bring him food on your nights off and he'd bring you food. You'd be a team again. He thinks about being able to come home to you every single night and that very thought makes him feel alive again.

You smile softly at him while Jason finds a yawn fighting its way to the surface.

"Sleep." You whisper to him as your eyes look over his face. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"You sure?" Jason asks, his voice already drenched with sleep.

He doesn't want to sleep. He rarely ever wants to sleep but tonight it's because tomorrow will come and he has no clue where you will stand in the morning light. He just wants to be here but sleep is calling and it always came so easy with you beside him.

You nod your head. "You still get nightmares?" You ask softly. "Especially after what happened tonight?" Jason's eyes dodge to your hands before he nods and looks back to you. "Get some sleep then, Jay." You press a kiss to his forehead. "I promise I'll be here when you wake up. And if you have a nightmare, I'll wake you up, promise."

"Thanks." Jason says softly, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into him.

Jason falls asleep pretty quickly so after half an hour, you slither out of his grasp and get out of bed. You kind of just left Tim so you want to check on him. But, you won't just leave Jason high and dry. You take his phone and call him on Facetime with yours. You prop his phone up to overlook his bed just so you can keep an eye on him. If you know anything about Jason's sleeping patterns, it's that he will have some sort of nightmare tonight and you'll run right back here.

You make your way back to Jason's training room where you find Tim seated at the table. Tim is facing the board where Jason has some of the equations for Shimmer's heist written. He seems to be in thought but you interrupt anyway.

"Hey." You greet with a half-smile.

"Hey." Tim greets, his smile warm.

"What're you doing?" You ask as you take a seat next to him and set your phone up to lean against a stack of books Jason has on the table so you can see your screen. Tim looks over his shoulder, watching you and you raise a brow. He knows for sure you and Jason are just weird.

"Thinking how I'm gonna get that guy." Tim lets out a sigh.

You nod softly. "You'll get him, we'll help." You offer him a bit of reassurance.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Tim shakes his head before he turns to face the table. He points at your screen. "What's that about?"

You let out a sigh with the shake of your head, seeing Jason perfectly still on his bed. "If you tell anyone, I will kill you." You threaten and something about it almost makes Tim think you might be serious.

If it were anyone else, you would never admit to anything. If it were almost anyone else, you would have just stayed with Jason but it's Tim. And Tim is the new Robin. Being a vigilante is cool and all, real rewarding and Tim can see the physical scars. He literally died. You know he understands the weight and the consequences but he has not seen the emotional and mental side of being a vigilante. Of being Robin. Maybe he needs to know in order to be prepared so he can reach out for help.

"I won't." Tim assures you.

"I'm only telling you this because you're the new Robin and I think it's important that you know some of that shit that will come with it. I don't expect it to change your mind or anything like that. I just want you to be prepared because Dick wasn't and Jason wasn't." You explain while Tim's face contorts into worry. "He's having a bad night and he has nightmares from everything that's happened, even before he died. It's rough, ya know? So, uh, wanted to check on you but I promised him I'd be there when he woke up. If he has a nightmare, I gotta be there." You shrug a shoulder. "So, I called myself on FaceTime."

Tim lets out a soft laugh. "What are you gonna do when he notices the call?" Tim asks.

"I'm gonna delete the call log, of course." You let out a laugh. "He doesn't need to know."

Tim's smile falls and he'd have never guessed Jason was having a difficult time. Tim doesn't know him well but Jason seems okay to him. "Is it that bad?"

You shrug because honestly...you don't know. You just started talking again. You hate that you don't know. "Guess so." You finally answer. "Uh, with, uh, not talking...I-I don't know." Your brows pull together. "I mean, he died and was thrown into Red Hood and Scarecrow. It was probably terrifying. I'm sure he's processing it but it's been a while." You pull in a breath as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands.

"I'm sorry you guys haven't talked." Tim says quietly.

"Yeah..." You swallow thickly. "Look, Tim, you're gonna be a great Robin." You offer him a sad smile. "But, I'm telling you this because you're my friend and I saw Dick before he found Nightmare and I saw Jason as Robin and after. Don't let becoming Robin take over your life. You are Tim Drake first. It'll destroy you and your life if you let it consume you. It's awesome and it's cool but be careful."

"It's kind of the coolest thing though. I wanted to be Robin and I chose it." Tim explains. "I'll be fine." Tim says it with confidence and it feels like you're being stabbed.

"You will be. I'm just saying. You gotta let it go sometimes." You nod softly. "Jason let it become this...part of him and without it, he felt like he wasn't anything. Part of that is always going to be on Bruce. And part of that is just...Jason. But...it got him killed so I just...you're gonna be great but don't let it be everything because it'll destroy you." You suck in a breath before you glance to your phone.

He's not going to be Jason. He's learned from watching Dick and Jason and he won't be them. He respects them both and he looks up to them but going after the Joker alone was a horrible decision. It was reckless, thoughtless. Tim won't do that. But, his heart aches for you knowing you're only warning him because of your point of view. Now, he understands what Jason meant by you having a bad opinion of Robin. Robin to you is covered in blood.

Tim nods with understanding. "I won't." Tim promises you. "Can't believe he was really killed." Tim shakes his head softly. "He was Robin, I mean." Tim pauses for a second. "And then Dick." He shakes his head.

"Yeah, me either." You let out a sigh before you move your hair over your shoulder, still damp from the shower.

"Think he'll be okay? Honestly." Tim asks.

"Yeah." You suck in a deep breath. "He'll be okay one day but until then, I'll be here looking after him just to make sure." You regret not being here for him before.

You know Jason has had Bruce. You're still not thrilled with him but...Jason always looked up to him and it's not really your business. You know Jason has Gar and Molly and Dick to talk to. But, you regret not being one of the people he could lean on. You know it's for the best because you can't balance your own trauma and his all the time and he understands. But, you regret it anyway.

"Can I ask you something?" Tim asks bluntly.

"Sure?" You raise a brow at him.

"What's going on with you guys?" Tim questions, gaining the smallest smile that almost turns a little cheeky. You shake your head at him once before your brows tug together. "I'm just asking...you two seem..." Tim pauses, eyes looking to the ceiling and then back to you. "Normal?"

You let out a snort before it turns into a groan. "Yeah...feels kind of normal in a way. I don't know." You shrug. "Thought time would, uh, fix it, I guess. So, we're just...trying to be friends now." You can't help but feel like those words don't seem quite right.

"Oh? Just friends?" Tim mocks you as he glances to your phone.

"Yes." You groan. "It's a thing, I don't know. He's still sorting his shit out, clearly." You blink at Tim. "And so am I...and I'm...a little bit still mad at him and myself so..." You suck in a breath. "Until I can get the fuck over it, friends."

It's easier to tell Tim because he has no loyalty to Jason. Tim doesn't even really know him. Telling Molly almost feels like you're dragging her into your drama and that's not fair. Molly is both of your friends and you've both put her in the middle enough. The same goes for Gar. It feels like you'd be putting Gar in the middle and he'll say he understands but it wasn't really Jason. That doesn't make any of it better.

"What're you mad at him for?" Tim asks.

"Fucking all of it." You let out a scoff as you shrug your shoulders. "We were supposed to be a team and he didn't tell me any of it. I fucking get it, right? Because if he told me, I'd talk him out of it or I'd join him. Or it'd be him confirming to himself that he's not good enough or something. Like I fucking get why he didn't tell me. And I know he did not go out and die on purpose but I'm still so mad because..." You grind your teeth."It was fucking stupid." You huff. "I mean he's smart as hell and...then he just...did that. Like did he not learn from Deathstroke and Dr. Light how this ends?" You can feel the burning start behind your eyes while you bite it back. "It was selfish of him to go off on his own knowing what could happen." You shake your head.

"I don't think he meant for it to be selfish though." Tim offers. "He did know what he was doing." Tim tries his best to offer something in response. "It was the Joker, greater good kind of thing."

"The Joker was not greater good. He did it to prove a point to Bruce." You bite back because you'd love if that were Jason's motive but you know it wasn't. It was always about Bruce and Dick. "I know." You let out a bitter laugh. "I know he wasn't doing it to be selfish which is why I feel guilty for being mad. I know he didn't mean to be selfish or leave me behind or hurt me or die or hurt anyone. I know. But that doesn't make it hurt any less." You roll your eyes. "I'm not...like...furious just...mad sometimes because it still hurts." You confess softly while your eyes go back to your phone.

You forgive him. Every day you forgive him. It's not all that. It's just that it hurts. It hurts thinking about everything that happened. You're the one that ends up feeling selfish, as if this is not your trauma to grieve over because he's alive. It feels like it belongs to Jason and it's not your place so then you feel more guilty and it turns to anger. You have so much hurt and you have no idea where to put it.

"Do think you can forgive him then?" Tim asks. "I mean, he did try to kill like all of you and...everything." Tim clears his throat. "He seems like he's been trying to come back from that."

"I do." You answer simply. "I forgave the second it all happened because Jason Todd is never malicious unwarranted. He's kind and has a heart of gold. It just hurts. It's the realization that what we do is dangerous. We go out every night and we intentionally put ourselves in front of bullets and bombs and knives. And it fucking hurts knowing one of us will not come home one day. And I'm so fucking mad at him for dying. Even if that's not fair to him. So, I forgive him. It just hurts." You shake your head. "So, I chose space."

"What's worse then?" Tim asks. "Thinking one of you won't make it out one day and not talking or actually spending your time together and working it out?" He asks it on purpose because your reason, to him, sounds like a load of bullshit.

Your eyes narrow slightly at him. "I know." You groan. "I know."

"So, instead of telling me this shit that contradicts itself over and over, why didn't you call him? Why are you sitting here with me and not with him?" Tim shakes his head and cuts you off before you can answer. "You were all upset that day at Excellent Gotham because he wasn't answering his phone. It just sounds like a waste of time to me." Tim's voice grows a little bitter as he glances to your phone.

You know damn well part of Tim's impatience is Bernard. Tim's boyfriend is in a coma meanwhile Jason got brought back to life and the two of you chose not to talk despite it all. It does seem very unfair.

"Sorry." You say quietly. "We're, uh...we'll figure it out. There's no way I could go back to not talking to him." You nod at Tim softly. "I'm sorry about Bernard."

"I hope you guys figure it out soon. Everyone agrees, too, by the way." Tim lets out a soft chuckle earning a subtle smile from you. "Just...I wish I had even one extra day with Bernard if we can't figure it out and I don't think I need to be telling you that."

It is really stupid. You know that and you have a feeling Jason does, too. One day just turns into forty-five. Time keeps moving even when it feels like your own world has stopped completely.

"Yeah." You let out a soft sigh.

"How do you deal with this?" Tim questions. "Seeing him like this and getting hurt? I keep thinking about Bernard, worried about him all the time and not knowing what to do. It's hard seeing him like that and...I know he's freaked about me out there."

Seeing each other hurt is arguably the hardest part. There's never anything either one of you can do about it. But, that's just part of the job. You think it's easier for you because even if you think you'd undo it all if given the chance, you still put on the suit every night, too. It's a choice today and you do it anyway. The point is that you choose Jason and he chooses you. Everything in between doesn't really matter at the end of the day and that includes seeing each other hurt and being completely helpless.

"I choose him and he chooses me." You state as if the answer were obvious.

"What does that mean?"

"I mean we choose each other. I am here because I choose him and he'd have kicked me out a long time ago if he didn't choose me, too. Seeing someone you care about hurt all the time fucking sucks. It hurts and you're worried but it's something that they do. It means something to them so even though it sucks, you choose them. Choosing them means choosing the pain that tags along with it." You explain simply. "I know that's....ironic given our current state but, uh, that's the answer. I still choose him even when he is being an asshole." You say but there's a fond smile coming to your lips. "Even when he's training himself into the ground. And I know he chooses me. We choose each other and that makes it easier."

"I choose Bernard but I don't know if he's going to choose me after this." Tim confesses as you watch the defeat wash over his face. "I think it might get too hard for him."

"He knows you're a Titan and he does know what comes along with the whole vigilante thing." You offer with kindness. "I think he knows what he's getting into." You let out a soft laugh. "And it's gonna be hard." You widen your eyes at him. "You'll come home covered in blood and bruises one day and he'll clean you up but even if he brushes it off, you'll be able to tell he's worried about you."

"He didn't think I was ready."

"You weren't." You chortle. "You're lucky we found you. You'd be dead again if not." You nod your head.

"I'm not that bad." Tim groans.

"I could disarm you in less than five seconds and Jason could kill you in under one." You deadpan.

"Okay maybe I need a little help." Tim chuckles softly.

"You'll figure it out and Bernard sounds great anyway. It'll be hard for both of you but like...it's also the easiest thing I've ever done. So, you'll figure it out." You assure him.

"Yeah..." Tim lets out a sigh. "He is pretty great."

"Bring him to Gotham when you fix him. I'd love to meet him." You smile widely.

"Please, don't hurt him." Tim blinks at you.

"I won't." You cackle. "Unless he's actually like a shit person then I'll be obligated." You tease Tim.

"Thanks." Tim rolls his eyes back. "You should get back to Jason. I'm fine. Thanks for checking on me and talking." Tim nods his head a few times as he gestures towards your phone.

"Yeah." You sigh before you get to your feet, grabbing your phone. "Thanks for the talk, too, by the way." You offer him a gentle smile. "Get some sleep, Tim. Got more training and shit to do tomorrow." You scrunch your nose as you head for the door.

"Goodnight." Tim nods softly at you.

"Goodnight, Tim."

Jason wakes up early in the morning, the sun peaking through the blinds of his bedroom. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders as your head is rested on his chest. A tender smile pulls at his lips and he's shocked he didn't have a nightmare. He swears, this time, it's because you were here. Despite his hatred for being exposed, you have always made him feel more comfortable. Jason is capable of taking care of himself and he's proven that time and time again but when he's alone, when he's with others, he doesn't feel safe.

The first thing Jason does whenever encountering another person, even just walking past them on a street, is look for a weapon of some sort. Jason knows every entrance and exit of every building he's ever going into with a thought-out escape plan and a backup plan just in case. He doesn't like his back to windows or doors, hates turning his back to other people. Being killed has skyrocketed his paranoia and that seeps into his dreams and his sleep. But, with you, he doesn't feel that sense of paranoia.

You're always on guard, too. Jason's always noticed it. You sit at the far booth at Excellent Gotham because you don't like people sitting behind you. You always kept two knives in your nightstand drawer and hid a few around the room Jason is sure you don't realize he knew about. Something about you always being on guard, makes him not feel so alone in it. Different experiences but same responses. Jason can handle himself just fine but with you around, he knows you'd come between him and anything and everything that ever even looked at him funny. He hates that part but it does make him feel safer. Two against one. Unbeatable force. Just him and you.

You stir awake slowly. Whenever you're worried about him because he's having a hard night, you don't sleep as heavy. You're always on guard for him. Your eyes peek open before you look up to him. He gives you this awkward smile that makes your stomach twist.

"Morning." Jason's morning voice hits your ears and you want him to talk forever.

"Morning." You echo.

"Thanks for staying." Jasn's voice is quiet as his fingers trace lightly over your t-shirt-covered shoulder.

You hum softly, a tender smile tugging at your lips. Your eyes close as you snuggle closer to his chest. "I'll always stay if you ask."

Jason pulls you closer to him and he almost kisses the top of your head but that's not his place. The reality is that he knows last night was probably a one-time thing. You can't go from not speaking to suddenly fixing it all in one night. It just doesn't work that way and as much as he hates the whole talking thing, there's a lot you would have to talk about beforehand. He worries that talk would change your mind if you wanted this to go somewhere. So, he just holds you close to him and lives in this moment, cherishing it for all it's worth.

Your thumb runs over his side softly as you process your conversation with Tim from the night before. There's a lot you left out in the conversation. It's not as easy as just blurting out that you love him and it's the easiest thing you've ever done. Things are complicated now. Everything is tangled in hurt. There was something so special about the night before with Jason and it felt like it should. Just him and you, there for each other no matter what. You think it may have healed a part of your soul. Molly asked if you were done punishing yourself and you are not but...maybe it can be a start because for some reason, he forgives you.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

Jason's brows pull together as he looks down to you. "For what?"

"Everything." You say, making sure to not look up to him.

"I don't..." Jason pauses. "What do you mean?" Jason questions.

"Stuff with Crane, not calling."

"It's okay." Jason says immediately, not sure what you're so sorry for when it comes to Crane. "Not really your fault."

You finally look up to him. "I wasn't all that right though." You admit. "I hurt you and I just...I'm sorry, Jay."

"It's okay." Jason assures you.

In Jason's mind, you don't have anything to apologize for. Everything you did, you did for him. You did it to protect him, to help him. If it weren't for Jason's decisions, none of it would have happened. He hopes you aren't beating yourself up too much over this. You don't deserve it.

"We'll figure it out, right?" You ask, making sure you're on the same page without having to ask anything else.

Jason nods with a smile. "Yeah, we usually do."

You give him a tender smile. "Good, cause, uh, it'd be nice to get...back to something." You pull in a breath and you watch as Jason's face relaxes.

"Would be." Jason offers you grin. "You and me?"

"You and me." You beam back at him before Jason pulls you into him once more.

Jason chuckles softly. "Well, we should probably get up then." Jason states. "Got a plan for the day."

"Which is?" You ask without making an attempt to get up.

"Let the group find me." Jason states casually.

Your eyes close for a second before you push off of his chest to sit all the way up. You blink at him a few times, waiting and hoping for the punchline to leave his mouth. Unfortunately, Jason just blinks back at you.

"That sounds fucking stupid." You scoff, almost certain he's lost his mind again.

"Thank you." Jason quips back. "We throw Tim to the wolves, watch from the shadows." Jason says it so casually as if this is something he does all the time.

"Uh-huh." You nod your head. "And hope he improved?"

"You know he has." Jason quips back. "We train a bit, get ready to patrol again, and kind of set him up to work on his own here before we leave. He's gotta learn to do it on his own before we send him back and he's gonna go back tomorrow." Jason explains his side as he sits up, resting his hands behind him.

"No, yeah, no I agree." You nod. You hate the idea, especially since Jason is already paranoid. Letting Shimmer's gang find him sets off a major red flag but you figure you'll go along with it for now. "Alright, follow your lead."

The two of you get up and get dressed before you head down to the training room where you find Tim, you starting to wonder if he ever sleeps. Though, if he doesn't, you can't say you blame him. Worrying can be a bit tiring but it has a habit of keeping people wide awake. The three of you get your breakfast going, this time just a few bowls of cereal with coffee. Once everyone is done with your food, the three of you get ready for training.

You start how you did before, Jason taking the first round which naturally led Tim to get hit in the face and knocked down more than a few times but Tim always gets right back up. You take the second turn and something similar happens but Tim is able to stay on his feet longer and he's able to block more. He's improving and quickly.

After a few rounds of sparing, Jason gets Tim connected to some weights to try and tug them while he tries to reach Jason. Tim ends up falling backwards while Jason and you laugh and then you take a turn. You work on weapon work for another hour after that, split between his staff and knife/blade throwing. Tim much prefers his staff but he does as told and his aim really isn't bad. Once you're done there, you go back to sparring for another hour, this time, the three of you against each other.

Jason attacks Tim first as you go for Jason and then once Tim fends off Jason, he goes for you. The three of you split your time trying to get the others down. Tim finds his footing a bit better this time, choosing to focus most of his attention on you at first. He only uses defence against Jason figuring you aren't a better fighter, you'll be easier to get down even with your clairvoyance. Tim's been mentally taking notes of everything Jason does in order to beat you and he applies to his fighting. It takes Tim a little while but he's able to grab your arm just as you come for him and he flips you onto the ground. He's back on his feet in seconds before Jason can make his move.

You move yourself to the side and you watch, happy with your friend. You easily could have gotten back up, you could have turned the tables on him but the point is that he got you down and now he just needs to get there with Jason. And then Jason gets Tim down and offers Tim a hand. Jason being Jason, doesn't let go of Tim's hand once Tim is on his feet. Instead, Jason twists Tim's arm behind his back and Tim lets out a yell before Tim punches Jason in the face, sending Jason's head back and loosening his grip just enough for Tim to get free. Tim twists Jason's arm behind his back and just as Jason goes to elbow him in the face, Tim blocks him and flips Jason onto his back. Before Tim can land the lasting punch, Jason throws Tim off to the side and gets to his knee. The two of them match their positions, breathing heavily while you clap softly.

"Look at you, Tim!" You cheer.

Jason looks behind Tim to you and offers you a gentle glare before he gets to his feet, Tim following immediately, unsure if they're still sparring. "Good." Jason nods at him with sincerity. "Now that you're warmed up, suit up and meet us downstairs." Jason states as he turns his back to start leaving the room.

You get to your feet to start following Jason.

"Suit up?" Tim questions as you walk past him.

"You're Robin, aren't you?" You quip as you put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"So, suit up." You shrug your shoulders before spinning on your heels and following Jason out.

You and Jason meet back in his room, Jason already grabbing his gear by the time you get there.

"He alright?" Jason asks, not looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah." You laugh softly. "He did pretty well, I think." You grab your case with your suit against the wall.

"Guess we'll find out. They should be here soon."

"I still think this is stupid, Jay." You warn him. "What're you gonna do now that they know where you live? Does that not seem like a flaw in your plan?"

Jason looks over his shoulder and raises his brows at you. "Nope."

To Jason, it doesn't really matter. Shimmer's gang has been relocating every few days, constantly staying on the move now that they know Red Hood is after them. Jason could track them down but he's been a little busy lately and this way is easier. This way, they come right to him, thinking they've outsmarted the Red Hood. They'll come in all confident, Tim will get some training, and Jason will kill them anyway. It's a win for everyone.

"Ah," You nod your head, finally putting the pieces together. "You know, if Tim knew, he would not be happy and neither would Dick."

Jason turns around fully, his gear in hand. "What? You suddenly get a fucking moral compass or some shit?"

"No." You let out a scoff. "I'm just saying." You shrug. "You lure them here to train Tim and then you kill them after." You think that's also dumb. Dick is gonna be pissed and Tim will be mad. Maybe keeping the peace while Tim is still in town is a good idea.

"Was going to anyway." Jason shrugs his shoulders.

"Obviously." You scoff again.

Of all people, Jason didn't expect you to give him a hard time about it. You share the same moral compass. Jason knows the reason you're the vigilante you are today is because you were thrown to the wolves. Between Deathstroke and Cadmus breaking into the tower, the stuff with Jerry, you had to do it on your own. Jason had to do it on his own and so did Dick and Bruce. Sometimes, that's how it has to be done and he expects you to understand even if you don't agree with the method. If Tim knows you're going to be there to bail him out, he'll never understand the gravity of anything.

Jason doesn't want another Robin killed either.

"Look, he's not gonna know unless you tell him." Jason scoffs back. "And didn't you involve Gar? You didn't seem to give a fuck then."

"That was different." You huff with the roll of your eyes.

"Because you did it and I'm doing it. But, I'm doing it to train Tim and make sure he doesn't get himself killed." Jason grinds his teeth and he's not entirely sure why this is even annoying him but it is. Maybe the paranoia and anxiety of this situation is starting to chew at him.

You nod your head, looking to the floor, realizing why. "No." You look back to him. "Jay, he's not you." You suck in a breath.

You think about how Tim would never go after the Joker by himself and he wouldn't go to Crane. You think about how Tim does have the Titans on his side and he has since day one, unlike Jason. Unlike Jason, Tim has a whole team to back him. Tim has a lot to prove but it's different. You think his differences from Jason and Dick will save his life.

"I mean that just because it happened to you, doesn't mean it'll happen to him." Your voice is small as your eyes finally meet his.

"Our job is to make sure it doesn't." Jason nods his head once. "Look, I'll call Babs, have her to take care of 'em just until Tim's outta town."

You nod in agreement. "That's a far better plan. Not sure what you'll do about Shimmer knowing where you live."

"I'll handle it."

"Mhm." You hum, unconvinced.

"Don't worry so fucking much." Jason offers you a grin, earning him an eye roll.

"Stop making me worry." You raise your brows at him.

You turn around and head for the bathroom down the hall to change, leaving Jason to change on his own. In all fairness, he really didn't think too much about how it would affect Tim if he knew what Jason's plan was anyway. The end result would be the same regardless. Jason has enough faith in Tim for this to go in his favor. He didn't think it would matter too much but it does. He knows eventually him and Dick will butt heads again over this, hopefully, it'll blow over again. He knows him and Bruce will always be at odds with it. It's just complicated and he wishes it weren't.

You and Jason meet in the hallway, Tim already downstairs. The two of you head for the stairwell and lean against the wall to watch the show.

"Security alert." The computer calls from the speakers, gaining Tim's attention. "Permiter intrusion." The computer says while Tim walks over to the laptop on the counter.

"There's the asshole." A man states once inside the building. "Get him."

Two men and two woman charge Tim from the front just as Tim pulls out his staff but before he gets it ready, another man comes up from behind him and attacks him, shoving him to the ground.

"Shimmer sends her regards." The man behind Tim states.

Right before the man can land a kick to Tim's head, Tim spins around and gets up to his feet. Tim blocks and gets a few hits in quickly but three of them jump him and he gets down on the ground. You take a step forward before Jason grabs your arm, shaking his head at you. You widen your eyes at him but Jason keeps his grip.

Tim gets back on his feet as they keep attacking him but then, Tim lands a solid hit to one of them. And then another and another one. He picks up some of the stuff on the floor and uses them as weapons to keep his distance from them. They're still able to get him on the ground again but this time, Tim does a better job at fending them off until he's back on his feet.

He uses a chair as a weapon this time, he uses it to pin one of the men to the wall while he punches one of the women until she backs away. Tim focuses on the man against the wall and he gets him down. The last man is quick though and he grabs Tim. Tim tries to fight him off but the man grabs Tim by the neck and picks him up, pinning him against the wall while he tries to strangle him. You try to help again but Jason lightly pulls you back and shakes his head.

"He's fine." He whispers. "You can't bail him out."

"He's being strangled." You whisper through gritted teeth.

"Give him a minute." Jason urges, nodding his head towards Tim just as Tim grabs the lightbulb from above him and smashes it on the man's head, sending him to the ground.

Tim pulls himself up using the counter but before he can catch his breath, the last woman grabs Tim and pulls him back before smashing him against the counter. Tim grabs the laptop this time and uses it to finish off the last two people. He gets them both down quickly but with a lot of effort. Jason smiles at you before he lets you go.

"Told you." Jason states before he starts walking down the stairs

"Uh-huh." You nod your head before you roll your eyes as you follow him, feeling relieved Jason was right.

"Hey." Jason calls as him and you make your way to Tim. "You owe me a new laptop." Jason points at Tim, still closing the distance between them. "The dustbuster I'll forget about cause it was broken anyways."

"You were watching and didn't help?!" Tim looks at the two of you, still catching his breath and very clearly unhappy.

"Actually, I'm surprised it took Shimmer's gang this long to get here after I let them triangulate my location." Jason states as he walks past Tim, looking around at the people knocked out on the floor.

"Let them?!" Tim questions, still very annoyed and even feeling a little betrayed. He could been seriously hurt or worse!

Jason turns around. "You learn by doing." Jason states, closing the distance between them. "Not being coddled." Jason sticks out his hand, shaking Tim's. "You're welcome." Jason states before he walks past Tim. "Nicely done." Jason calls from further down the hallway.

"Thanks." Tim states before he looks to you. "Is he always like that?"

You laugh softly before you nod your head. "You get used to him." You give a soft smile. "You did well though."

"I got my ass kicked. They could have killed me."

"Oh, we were watching the entire time. Actually," You state. "I wanted to jump in but Jason stopped me. He was right, ya know? You can handle yourself." You beam at him. "You're gonna be a great Robin, Tim." You say as you start walking past him. "Come on, we got your guy to find." You call before Tim is quick behind you, feeling confident in his role as Robin.

The three of you get back a few hours later, Tim a little defeated with not finding Venta but in good spirits overall. Being able to fight off Shimmer's gang has proven to do a lot for his confidence. He was able to fight off four people all by himself which is something he could not have done a few days ago. And his interrogation skills have also gotten significantly better. Jason has actually enjoyed watching him grow.

It's different seeing someone else in the suit. Growing up, he got to see Dick be Robin and that was cool enough. A kid got to go out with Batman and kick ass. But, Dick was always...unobtainable. How he carried himself as Robin, the flips, his fighting, everything he did was always so perfect. It was different because he was the first and he set such a high standard. Jason got to fill that role and he knows he was good at it. Different than Dick, but good. Suddenly, Robin wasn't unobtainable, he was real and tangible. Now, though, with Tim, Jason is seeing everything he failed at as Robin and how he got in his own way.

If Jason were set up like this, he would have been livid. He would have put up hell and not listened. He would have gotten in his own way to not learn anything because he knew best and no one believed he was good enough. It would take a few days alone for him to be able to swallow his own pride and get over it. Tim though, he just...listens. He takes notes and he works relentlessly. He's incredibly smart, too which is going to benefit him. Over the last few days, any bit of jealousy or bitterness Jason was biting down has vanished.

Tim's going to be a better Robin.

Once the three of you get changed, Jason lets Tim know it's probably best he head out. Apparently, Dick texted him and he needs him back in Metropolis by tomorrow. So, the three of you get everything squared away and head down the hallway.

"Sorry I gotta kick you out." Jason states. "I have a rule about new Robins, five days max." Jason states as you finish your walk down the first flight of stairs, stopping on the landing to the next.

"It's all good." Tim says with a kindness in his voice. "I gotta get back anyway. Check on my boyfriend." Tim states as he stands by the stairs, Jason leaning against the railing while you stand right beside him.

"If we hear about your guy Venta, we'll hit you." Jason states. "Sorry, it was a bust."

"Yeah, sorry, it really sucks." You add in.

"I'm glad I came." Tim states, closing some of the distance between him and Jason. "I got to meet the great Red Hood." Tim says, lightly poking Jason's chest with the name.

Jason lets out a chuckle. "Was I on your fucking bucket list?"

"Kind of. Yeah." Tim chuckles sheepishly. "And I got to work with Bluejay, finally."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You widen your eyes. "Not the first time."

"That was different." Tim chuckles.

"Well, good luck in Metropolis." Jason states. "And if shit hits the fan, just hide behind Raven and Starfire."

"Got it." Tim nods his head before he heads down them.

Jason and you start to make your way back from you came before Jason takes out a set of keys. "Enjoy the ride home." Jason states, tossing them over the railing, Tim catching them.

"Be safe and don't do anything stupid." You warn with a cheeky smile before you and Jason walk off.

The two of you get back to the training room, silence filling the air while Jason grabs a beer for himself and a blue Gatorade for you. You both stand in front of the board with the ciphers while Jason shakes his head.

Jason pulls out his phone before he presses Dick's contact. He sends Dick to speakerphone.

"How'd it go?" Dick asks without even a hello.

"Sending him back to you in one piece." Jason says.

"Didn't suspect a thing and he did great." You add in.

"Hope you didn't go too easy on him." Dick says.

"Don't worry, we didn't." Jason states. "And, Dick," Jason pauses, glacing to you and then back to the whiteboard. "He'll be a better Robin than me." Jason states before hanging up the phone and taking a drink of his beer before he walks off to the computers.

"Think he'll be a better Robin than you?" You question as you follow Jason over to the monitors before you take a seat, the Gatorade starting to sweat in your hands.

Jason sits beside you. "Don't you?"

You let out a sigh. "I don't know." You shrug. "He'll be incredible, like you just different."

Jason lets out a chuckle. "Right." Jason takes another drink as the room falls silent.

Tim is gone. He's officially going back to Metropolis which means it's up to you and Jaosn to keep talking on your own accord. You agreed to and you want to, it's just that, now it feels a little weird. You both have no obligation to hang out or talk again. You're living separate lives for the first time in a year. Neither of you like it too much, it just feels like you're fumbling over your own feet and neither of you have any idea what you're supposed to do. It was so much easier before you dated because at least you didn't know. You both had nothing to lose but now it feels like everything is on the line. All of your feelings were broadcast to each other and you saw each other for who you really are. You can't unsee it. It's weird trying to figure out where you're supposed to go from here.

You have to talk.

Jason clears his throat. "So..."

"So..." You echo, keeping your stare forward.

"Should we, uh, talk about last night?" Jason rips the bandaid off, hating the words as they leave his lips.

"Oh, uh, yeah, okay." You nod your head, sucking in a breath before you crack open the seal of the Gatorade. "W-what's, uh, what's up?"

Jason was hoping, you'd pick up the conversation even though he's the one that started it. He talked to Leslie about this and then he thought about it and regretted it all day. But, she had some advice and words of wisdom for him and he can't help but shake the thought that she's probably right. That is her job. If Jason doesn't want to be where he was two months ago, he needs to get help and he needs to actually accept it when it is given to him even if it's like swallowing glass.

"I, uh, just...we're good, right?" Jason asks.

"Yeah?" You furrow your brows at him.

Before, he was so ready to date you. It was easy. You were already basically dating and the more he thinks about the time you had, the more he realizes, you were dating before you were dating. You took your time to build a friendship and be comfortable in that before you got together. Yes, you both should have worked on all of your trauma first but it was comforting. It felt like you were both ready for something and you were, even if it didn't work out the first time. But, this time, it doesn't feel that way.

You're sitting here in silence because there's too much between you. Jason is still doing a lot of work to become someone he can live with. He's still trying to cope with everything that has happened. It's not him self-sabotaging this time. Leslie said if he's thinking this hard about it and he doesn't feel like he's ready, maybe he's not. Even if all he wants is you all the time. It wouldn't be fair to either of you if he's not ready.

Jason lets out a groan before he runs a hand through he white streak of hair. "I'm not ready for anything. I'm sorry." Jason blurts it out before he can back out.

Your heart plummets to your feet as a lump shoots up to your throat. You aren't either and you don't think you want anything now but it hurts.

"Oh, yeah." You nod quickly. "Me either." You nod in agreement. "It's just...still a lot to deal with. One time thing, last night."

"Yeah." Jason nods his head in agreement but he doesn't want you to pull away. He knows you better than anyone and he knows you want to. He sees it across your face, he could see it all week. He gets why everyone is worried about you. "You can say no." Jason starts, earning your full attention. "Do you just...wanna go back to before?" Jason asks softly. "Like fuck it, friends and still fuck with each other, ya know? Before it all went to shit and we just see where it goes again?" Jason takes a sip of his beer, trying to run the nerves from his shoulders. "Could've worked last time."

The lump in your throat starts to disappear as the weight starts to lift from your chest. "Yeah, yeah, I don't know if we could be friends any other way anyway." You smile softly. "And seeing where it goes would be nice." You feel your cheek start to warm.

"Yeah, guess we just can't help it, huh?" Jason chuckles, looking to the beer bottle in his hands.

"Reflex." You chuckle quietly. "Funny though, cause uh, this is like the third time we've agreed to be friends, Jay." You scrunch your nose at him. "In one way or another."

"Yeah." Jason gives you an awkward chuckle. "I wasn't sure what that meant to you."

"Me either." You admit with a laugh. "Just like before I guess." You roll your shoulders.

"Good cause I really don't think I could help it." Jason flashes you a quick smirk.

"That's because you're a shithead." You beam at him.

"Wouldn't have me any other way, babe." Jason quips back.

"Nope." You agree before you take a drink of the Gatorade. You pull out your phone, checking the time. "Well, I have to go, actually." You say softly as you get up.

"Molly?" Jason asks.

"No, actually." You shake your head. "Just...some stuff." You roll your shoulders.

Jason nods once, offering a raised brow. "Fucking ominous all of a sudden."

"Worried about me, Jay?" You quip with a cheeky grin.

"Maybe." Jason states but he doesn't match you with a grin or smirk this time.

"I'm fine. It's nothing. I'll text you though?" You offer with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Jason shakes his head, deciding to bite the bullet. He doesn't want to be guessing when you'll meet up again. "You busy tomorrow?"

You feel a rush of heat spread across your cheeks. "If you count my usual run to Excellent Gotham and a movie with Molly, nope." You let out a soft laugh. "Why?"

"You're right, place is kind of a mess." Jason looks around and he's leaning his elbow back against the desk, trying his hardest to play it cool.

You see right through him. Something about Jason is despite his charisma, he can be really bad at trying to play cool. Half the time he just looks awkward and out of place. Somehow though, you find it that much more endearing.

"It is a mess." You nod in agreement.

"Wanna help me out with that?" Jason gives you a cheeky smile.

"You want me to help you clean with our renewed friendship?" You gasp, dramatically clutching your heart. "I feel so used!"

"Shut the fuck up." Jason groans, leaning forward before he lets out a laugh. "Come on, could be fun. Help me fix up the place."

"Dunno, Jay. Why would I wanna help?" You cross your arms but the corners of your mouth are tugged into a smile.

Jason knows he's won.

"Your track record says you'll be here more than you're home. Might as well help." Jason quips back.

He hopes you keep the same track record.

You laugh because you know he's probably right. You hope he's right.

"That's sounding more like an offer to come over whenever I want." You raise with the raise of your brows.

Jason shrugs softly. "Help me fix it up and you get a key and a code."

Your heart skips a beat as you look to your shoes, a smile splitting your face. "Fine." You look back at him as you roll your eyes sarcastically. "I guess you've convinced me."

Jason holds his head with pride as if it was some tough argument he won. "Text you the time then, we gotta get some supplies."

"Yeah, like a few gallons of bleach and home defense. I've seen like ten spiders and I'm not staying here anymore until they are dead." You gesture the Gatorade at him before you take another drink.

"Saw a centipede earlier." Jason lets out a chortle.

You shutter at the very thought. "I'm going the fuck home. You better find that thing and kill it so fucking help me. If I see one of those, I'm done."

Jason gives off this hearty laugh that you swear you can feel in your bloodstream. "You walk in front of fucking knives for fun, babe. A centipede?"

"First of all, knives don't have those fucking creepy legs, Jason." You say with a straight face. "If a meta shows up and they're like a centipede in any way, I will move out of the fucking city I'm so fucking serious. I would rather live in Central City or Metropolis." You nod your head quickly, your skin crawling the more you think about it.

"That's really impressive." Jason continues to laugh. "I'll find the centipedes." Jason assures you as he laughs. Your eyes dart around the room, now feeling uneasy. "You're looking for one now aren't you?"

"So fucking done. I'm going home. Text me what time." You wave your hand, nearly high-tailing it out of the room.

On the way home, you take a detour to pick up food for you and Molly. When you get home, Molly is just entering the kitchen wearing a soft smile. The two of you greet each other before you go off to wash up and Molly gets the table ready, the takeout from Batburger laid out on your respective spots.

"How'd it go?" Molly asks as soon as you enter the kitchen.

"Good. Tim can fend for himself now. Took out some of Shimmer's gang and now he's on his way back to Metropolis." You explain before you pull out your chair and take your seat.

"Really?" Molly chimes. "I knew you guys could train him."

"We did, too but thank you." You laugh softly as you unwrap your food. "Hopefully, it'll work out. I guess things are getting a bit messy? Dick didn't elaborate too much." You explain.

"What about Gar?" Molly asks.

"Didn't talk to him? Why? Did he say something to you?" You raise a brow of concern at Molly before you take your phone from your pocket to double-check you don't have a message from anyone concerning Gar.

"No." Molly shakes her head, not sure if she's supposed to tell you everything about The Red. "Just curious."

You eye Molly carefully while Molly diverts her attention to her fries. There's a lot to discuss when it comes to Tim and his training if Molly is really curious. There's a lot to discuss over everything that's happened the last few days that does not involve Gar. The more you think about it, the more you're realizing Molly has been talking to him more than you have over the last week.

You narrow your eyes at Molly as your brows furrow. "So...you're asking me if Gar elaborated on the shitshow or if Dick said anything about Gar? Because we both know those are wildly different questions." You pose.

"Both, I guess." Molly picks up a fry, trying to play it casual.

"No, Dick not mention Gar. It was a pretty quick call about Tim. And I have not talked to Gar over the last two days." You finish. "You talk to Gar more than I do though so...?" You let out a soft laugh as you eat.

"What?" Molly snaps her attention to you. "I do not." Molly's cheeks burn as she looks back to her food.

You let out a snort. "Yeah, you do." You nod as you point a fry at Molly. "You're always talking to him."

"How would you even know?" Molly snips. "Wait, did he say something?!" Molly's eyes widen as she leans in. You nod your head with a knowing grin and Molly's face deflates. "I do not."

You snicker softly. "Whatever you say." You roll your eyes with a smile. "He okay?"

"Yeah, he's okay. I was just wondering." Molly shrugs as she eats a fry, hoping you now drop it entirely.

"Right, okay." You laugh softly. "Something going on? You're acting kind of weird."

"No." Molly answers shortly. "I was just curious." Molly nods her head at you. "Anyway," Molly chooses to switch the subject herself, knowing the second she brings up Jason, you will drop it. "You and Jason?"

You glare softly at Molly before you roll your shoulders and look back to your food. "Made out last night."

Molly nods. "Of course you did."

"Okay fuck you." You scoff.

"Did you really not see that coming?" Molly questions.

"No..." You answer, paritally lying.

"Right, you told me the whole rundown of you two managed to fall into a relationship together. The only people who are going to be surprised by this turn of events is you two. Honestly," Molly states casually. "I'm surprised you didn't sleep with him."

Your jaw hangs ajar as your brows furrow. "Fucking ow." You huff even though Molly probably has some sort of point.

Molly laughs loudly. "It's true!" Molly defends. "So, let me guess." Molly starts as you wave haphazardly at her. "You two did not talk but you did agree to be friends." Molly explains earning herself a displeased nod from you. "But."

"Oh, there's a but!" You say dramatically.

"Isn't there always?" Molly quips. "But, friends for you two does not mean what it means to literally every other sane person on the planet. So, I bet this will keep happening until you manage to fall into another relationship."

You blink at her. "Well..." You try to find the right words because no part of what Molly is saying isn't true.

You all but agreed that's basically what'll end up happening. You're starting to wonder if giving Molly the full play-by-play was a good idea. Maybe you should just bring Gar up again.

"You could just have the conversation." Molly suggests.

"Fuck that." You scoff before you laugh. "We did kind of talk?" You state. "He's not ready for anything and that's fine." You ramble. "I'm not either."

Molly lets out a sigh. "Why not?" She asks because you've never given her a clear answer on why you've avoided Jason over the last month. "I know you guys went through some traumatic stuff but what's holding you, specifically, back? You seem happy hanging out with him again."

You pick at your food. If you tell Molly, Molly will tell you it's ridiculous. A part of you knows it is but it's how you feel. It's hard to even put it all into words because it always boils down to guilt and regret. Everything else just piles onto it and it gives you more reasons to run even if that's not entirely fair. But, maybe part of your problem is that you don't tell anyone.

"Ya know, uh, he was the first person that, uh, made me not feel so alone after my mom died." You confess. "I had you at first." You add on quickly. "But...you didn't really get it then. He did. He wasn't someone I could disappoint because he got it and he was willing to just...be there."

Molly sighs softly. "Yeah, Jason is a pretty understanding person when people give him the chance to be."

"Yeah..." You shrug. "So, uh, I know that I made him feel the same way but then...I did leave him alone. He had Crane and that was it but he didn't really have him, right? Because Crane was sending him into withdrawal and holding him captive. And manipulating him and everything. I left and he was alone." You pause for a few seconds. "I don't think he deserves someone who leaves." You state. "It's what I do and you know that so don't try and make me feel better about it. I get freaked so I run."

"That's not what happened though." Molly defends.

"Isn't it?" You scoff. "He was on the brink of fuck knows what and I left. I can try to convince myself all I want that it was for his own good but what if it wasn't? What if I didn't wanna find him fucking dead somewhere again?"

"That has never been your reason. You did the right thing. It was your decision to leave that snapped some sense into him."

"I don't know." You shake your head with a defeated sigh. "I just wish we could go back to being who were then, before it all. Last night, it felt like we were those people again. It was the first night in months I didn't feel like the world was crumbling under my feet." Your voice goes small as you look to your half-eaten meal.

"You can be those people. You can talk, you've done it before. What is the worst thing that's going to happen if you tell him what you just told me?"

"He says it back." You answer without hesitation.

"What?" Molly shakes her head in confusion. "Why would that be bad? Don't you want him--"

"I gotta go." You shake your head as you stand up abruptly. "We're friends and we agreed that we're just going to go back to how it was before and see where it goes. We always functioned better that way. It's fine." You toss your half-eaten meal into the bag.

"Y/n." Molly calls softly. "What is going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just...he seems good besides last night. That's all that really matters to me." You say with a soft nod. "I'll be back. I gotta do something and then patrol, so I'll call you when I need you." You grab your case and head for the door.

"Come on, don't go." Molly calls but you ignore her as you open the door. "Y/n." Molly calls more sternly this time, watching the door stutter before it finally shuts on your way out. Molly lets out a groan and you're going to hate her for it, but she pulls out her phone anyway.

Jason is seated at the table in a room he plans to make into a kitchen, cleaning his guns. There's something calming about it. He concentrates on it and it lets him clear his head in the same way some people find jigsaw puzzles calming. It's a good thing to decompress after the last few days. Tim is a little exhausting with all of his excitement, something Jason does not blame him for at all. And then everything with you has left his head a little fuzzy.

His phone vibrates against the table, Jason glancing at it to see Molly's name on the screen.

"Hey." Jason answers as he puts Molly on speaker.

"Are you busy?"

Jason looks to his guns across the table and then to his phone. "Not really. Why? What's up?"

"Can you do me a favor?" Molly asks and Jason can hear the concern and hesitance in her voice.

"Sure?" Jason questions as his heart starts to sink. "What is it?"

"Can you find her for me?" Molly asks with a weary tone.

"Why?" Jason freezes immediately, not liking the idea.

What if you were kidnapped on your way home? Everything was going well and you really didn't seem weird when you left. It's been a few hours now and Jason is certain Molly would have called sooner had she not heard from you. Jason tries his best to not immediately jump into a tailspin of panic.

"She's up to something and she will not tell me a damn thing. She goes out a few nights a week before patrol, shutting her phone and everything off so I can't track her. She just left." Molly explains, pushing her own guilt of invading your privacy away.

"Are you asking me to stalk my ex-girlfriend?" Jason asks, knowing this a bad idea but relieved you haven't been kidnapped.

Jason knows if Molly is asking, she has a reason to be worried. He's heard it from all of their friends. They're worried and he doesn't know why. But, Jason also set up a line he doesn't really want to cross just because you're being weird. You're secretive. Those two things don't seem to be things Molly should be worried about.

"No...just...okay kind of." Molly groans. "Come on, Jason. I'm worried and she won't tell me what's going on."

Jason sighs, deciding to hear Molly's side. "Why did she leave?" Jason asks. "What'd she say? She's a creature of habit."

"That she had to go. She had to do something before patrol." Molly answers. "She kind of does that. We'll be talking and then when she doesn't want to talk, she just...leaves." Molly omits the conversation topic.

"Sounds like her." Jason answers, trying not to get too worried.

"I know you're worried, too." Molly states. "You said you were that first night she stayed with you."

Jason texted Molly after you all got back, letting her know you were all fine but he was worried. He didn't know what was going on with you and he thought it was just him being worried because a roof fell on you. But, Molly wasn't real assuring in her texts.

"Fine but if she starts bitching, you gotta deal with it. I'm not taking the heat from her because she's pissed I found her. You check the zoo?" Jason finishes up with the gun he was working on before he stands up and gets moving.

"Of course, I did. She's not there or the theater. Or Harbor. I don't know where she goes."

"I'll go find her. I'll let you know when I find her." Jason says.

"Thank you. I owe you."

"Yeah." Jason says before he hangs up.

The last thing he wants to do is invade your privacy when you're finally on good terms. But, Molly doesn't worry for nothing. As much as he hates her worrying, and he says he's fine, Molly worries for good reason, especially after everything. And Jason knows there's something going on.

You have never been a very good liar when it comes to him. Truthfully, a part of him thought finding out the truth would just be too painful because for all he knows, there's someone else. That could have been a reason for your weirdness but after last night, that kind of gets thrown to the wasteside. That leaves Jason on the same page as Molly. Worried.

Once Jason is in his gear, he heads out to look for you. He checks the usual spots first and then he checks his. You aren't at either of them which Jason is now finding to be weird. Like he told Molly, you're a creature of habit, you go to the same places. If you want to be alone, you're always at these places. So, Jason calls Barbara and asks about the case you're working, to see if there's a sort of safe house they're keeping some of the women. Barbara is able to offer him an address you might be. Unfortunately, you aren't there either.

A part of Jason actually thinks about tracking you but this isn't an emergency. This is possibly them just being really paranoid. It's been a few hours and it's just getting more and more tempting. Jason decides that if he doesn't hear anything from either you or Molly by the end of patrol tonight, he'll track you. You don't normally miss patrol according to Molly which means if you miss tonight, that's reason enough for an emergency.

It gets closer and closer to the time Jason normally starts patrolling and he's yet to find you. To say he's starting to worry would be an understatement. But, then, he hears yelling coming from an alley nearby. And he swears the yelling sounds like it's coming from you. Jason jumps to the next roof to get a look into the alley only to finally find you. But, there's a man, maybe two hundred pounds, over six feet just towering over you, screaming. Jason's blood boils as he uses his grabbling hook to quietly get himself down.

"Do you have any idea who you're fucking with, kid?" The man yells.

You let out a crackle. "Do you?" You quip back, blinking up at him.

The man pulls back his fist just as he feels metal pressing the back of his head. "Touch her and I'll blow your brains out." Jason's voice is disguised through the modulator.

The man opens his fist, surrendering his hands. He lets out a laugh. "The Red Hood."

Jason pushes the gun further into his man's head, causing him to look down.

"I got it, Red." You say with the roll of your eyes.

"Looked like it." Jason quips with sarcasm. "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind." Jason yanks the man by the collar of his shirt, tossing him backwards.

He doesn't look scared as he looks up to Jason, fully covered in the Red Hood gear. Instead, he just calmly gets up, taking a long stare at the two of you before he walks casually down the alley. Jason and you both find it a bit odd but it's Gotham so you both brush it off.

"What are you doing?" Jason asks, glad you can't hear the worry in his voice.

"What are you doing?" You ask back, avoiding the question.

"Asked you first." Jason fires back with a single nod of his head.

"Walking?" You quip back.

"With him?!"

"What?" You scoff. "Ew, no. He fucking cornered me." You roll your eyes in disgust. "Your turn."

No part of Jason believes you for a second. Jason is starting to think Molly is valid in her concern because not only do you not lie to him but you also wouldn't shut off your phone just for walking. Jason is starting to worry he might be the one having to talk you off of a ledge.

"Molly was worried." Jason confesses.

"She sent you?!" You seeth as your blood starts to boil.

Living with Molly was supposed to be convenient for the both of you. It's cheaper and safer, it's supposed to be fun. Involving Molly was supposed to be a way to keep her close and safe rather than her going off on her own. But, you're standing here feeling betrayed and you're questioning if any of it was the right decision. She sent Jason because Jason is actually good at locating people who don't want to be found and Molly knows you aren't going to chew out Jason for it. The whole thing makes you that much more annoyed.

"She was worried. I didn't track you or anything, I told her you were probably fine, alright?" Jason tries to ease your annoyance. He'd be annoyed, too if it were him.

"I can handle myself." You snip as you cross your arms.

"I know." Jason shrugs. "Look, whatever the hell you're up to, you don't have to do it alone." Jason tries to offer some sort of reason, hoping you'll give him some clue to what you've actually been doing.

You want to be mad but you don't blame Jason. If it were him, you'd be doing the same thing. "Just...I'm okay, alright? Thank you for checking and dealing with him. I'm fine though."

"You sure? She sounded pretty worried." Jason shifts his weight to his left leg.

"I think she's talking to Gar." You blurt, partially to deflect and partially because you do think that has something to do with it.

Jason shakes his head quickly, his brows furrow under the helmet. Molly and Gar? "Like....talking?"

"Yeah!" You yell.

"When the fuck did that happen?"

"I don't know." You shrug your shoulders. "But you know, he's got that whole Red thing going on with the visions and stuff. And now the Brother Blood shit, I think she's worried about him and her worry is spilling over."

Jason nods his head, not buying it. This is one of those deflective tactics you love to do when you don't want to talk. "Bullshit."

"What?"

"She has a reason to be worried but you don't want us to know." Jason states.

"No. I think that's it." You shrug your shoulders and it's not a full lie. You do actually think that's why Molly is being so paranoid, even if she should be.

"Look, just be careful, alright?" Jason asks, knowing he's not going to get any real answer from you right now. He figures he'll try again later when you're in a better mood, when you haven't been completely blindsided.

"I will." You nod your head softly.

Jason shakes his head, not feeling any bit of his worry ease. "Hey, you wanna patrol tonight?" Jason asks. "Together?"

"Really?" You ask as your eyes soften with the request, even if you don't think it's a coincidence he's asking when he's worried.

"I mean your nagging is fucking annoying but you're alright company." Jason shrugs one shoulder.

"Fuck you."

"Maybe after." Jason quips back.

You let out a laugh. "Alright, fine, you've sold me." You roll your eyes. "I've got my case hidden at the usual place."

"Course you." Jason chuckles. "Bike there, too?"

"It is." You nod your head.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head down the alley. "Mine's a block away, I'll take you."

"Thank you, Red." You beam up to him.

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[mayabruhbruh]

What do you think of the possibility of Will and Chance happening? I feel like it would be really poor writing tbh but I feel like they will give Will a different love interest because they’ll try to make all of the audience „happy“ But that would just truly not align with the writing so far I feel like.

Love your analyses btw<3

THANK YOUU! That's so kind :) And great ask! This is definitely a topic that the ST fandom needs to discuss.

The default question when people have little to no hope in Byler is, well, who the hell is Will going to end up with? Because it’s become increasingly evident that they’re trying to set him up for a romance. The “im not gonna fall in love”, the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”, even the gif shown above. It all can be interpreted to mean that Will is going to find his person soon.

So... to be completely honest, I had no idea who Chance was until this ask popped up and I had to look him up💀. It’s been a while since I’ve been on here, so I’m a little rusty on the deep lore lmao. So, in the off chance that others might also be confused, here’s a (rare) gif of him I found.

I think that’s him with the Hawkins cap on the right. Correct me if I’m wrong.

I’m not sure where the rumors that this guy was going to become a bigger part of the show came from, but that seems highly unlikely to me. I feel like they would have either hinted at it in the fourth season (like how they’re giving Patrick here quite a sizeable role so that he’ll be memorable to us later when he gets vecnafied) or they would have announced him as a more prominent character already like how they did for s5 with Holly, that one new kid character, and also how they did Amybeth for s4. Idk, maybe it’s unreasonable to think they would have to do that, but it feels quite too out-of-the-blue. Especially for a character that would take on the role of becoming our central character’s love interest, which is a BIG DEAL. Especially if it’s queer lol.

Secondly, I firmly believe that it would be a disservice to Will’s own desires to meet someone new.

Will said this explicitly in the van scene, and as of now, we’re still under the impression that Mike is his person. Forget about Mike’s issues and feelings for a second, and think about what Will is saying here. He feels like a mistake for being different, but Mike makes him feel like he’s not a mistake at all, that he’s better for being different. Mike gives him courage to fight on. Fuck. Tbh, it makes me wonder how long he’d felt this way. As a byler, you might be inclined to think his feelings have been on for forever, but narratively, he could have easily just realized his own feelings very recently, most likely sometime between season 3 and 4. It doesn’t mean the feelings weren’t there before, but realistically neither Will nor the general audience were aware of it before now.

Moving on.

Has anyone heard of the rule of Chekhov’s gun? It’s an incredibly clever and widely-used tool in screenwriting and storytelling in general that helps to clue the watchers in for what’s to come next.

Think of Lucas’ wrist rocket in season 1. When they introduced it as a flimsy-looking, no-good weapon that he’d put too much pride in at first, it gives us a good laugh and we move on. But really, it very meticulously set us up to subconsciously anticipate to see it again later. That’s what Chekhov’s gun is all about. Set-ups, foreshadowing, hidden treasures.

Another great example would be the painting reveal of s4. Obviously, after finding out that Will was painting something, bylers immediately figured it was for Mike and BEGGED and HOPED and PLEADED that we’d be able to finally see it, but to the general audience it was just another something that they’d have to pick apart and realize was actually of importance as the season progressed. (It’s also a good way of showing that the writers are fully capable of engrossing the entire fan base and general audience in his and Mike’s story. Just knowing Will had painted something and that it was for Mike created this sense of PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IT IS AND WJATS GOING ON and whatnot that watchers are simply so susceptible to it’s insane.)

Okay, back to the van scene. Will’s confession.

Now, I’m not saying that the writers intentionally used this foreshadowing tool for us to find and understand immediately. There are plenty, plenty of instances where writers use Chekhov’s gun principle and it flies over peoples heads purposefully. What I’m trying to say is that, thematically and narratively, they would never have introduced Wills feelings for Mike if not for it to have importance to the story, or for nothing to happen with it at all. It’s a set up. And a maddeningly good one, at that. Because queer stories already do tend to fly over people’s heads, and also because there’s the added drama between Mike and Eleven that makes it seem quite impossible for any of these feelings to be addressed in the midst of such emotional chaos. But whatever. I think I’m rambling.

Basically, whether they end up together or not, whether Mike reciprocates these feelings, Will is forever established to be in love with Mike. The confession was simply too grand and emotional and earnest for him to just switch up abruptly next season when he meets someone new that he might have a better chance with. Even if there were to be a whole new arc for him where he learns to let go of Mike or something crappy like that, it would be terrible writing on their end and poor use of a well-set-up Chekhov’s gun reference. It would be like introducing the gun in the display case in scene one, then two scenes later just tucking it away into a storage closet for the remainder of the story. Like… what?

And plus, it’s HIGHLY unlikely that Will would end up with that sort of storyline next season when he’s literally WITH Mike for presumably a majority of the time (based on the set pics so far).

So that’s my debunking of the Chance rumors :) and I didn’t even get to mention how incompatible they’d be just naturally as characters. Chance, a Jason-following jock that hates Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy and nerdy things, and willingly assisted in beating up the Hellfire Club when they were trying to find Eddie. What about that at all screams Will’s type? And if you’re thinking “unconventional couple enemies to lovers”, just don’t. This isn’t a rom-com, especially for a queer plot line lol. I think it’s safe to say there’s no “chance”😉 that they will ever happen. And either way, it’d be a bummer if they did. Cus it would just be Will defeatedly settling for someone that isn’t Mike.

UGH! It makes me sad that the one thing that is firmly being teased by the writers (Will’s love playing a major role in the plot to come) is constantly being questioned and framed as different questions. “Will Mike reciprocate?” “Does this mean Mike and Eleven break up?” “Who will end up with who?” SHHH Frankly, to me this is already a win. It’s become obvious that Will having feelings for him will come up again soon, and the rest of the evidence that accounts for Mike’s end already speaks for itself, so I prefer to just sit back and watch it all unfold.

Again, thanks so much for the ask!! This was so fun to dissect and feel free to keep sending questions into my inbox. It might take me a second to post my response but I’m determined to get through all of them. Love you guys!! <3

[zcinderone]

An ironically conspicuous yet never exploited(except by me as far as I can see) dot that connects everything which could be the ultimate layer of secret to unravel the true identity of Arei's murderer...

It's Levi and this is where the final piece of puzzle comes to make sense of itself: the Monotv recruiting Teruko do CAULKING scene!!!

This is such a detailed and prominant plot that so far made 0 sense as to its connection to the case. Monotv must have enlisted a helper to clean up the mess left in the gym. Since he can't even do caulking, it is 100% valid for the narrative that there are something in this mess he can't handle. This helper would have abundance of time to figure out the mechanism and took the tape. (whereas both Ace and Eden only had cursory glances at the scene also in a rather shocking and intense scenario to figure out how Nico's mystrious setup worked)

(Monotv specifically mentioning he needs help to do certain chores)

Apart from the 4 involved in Ace's case, the only one awake/available late at night was Levi(and we never know for what purpose the story writer specifically left only him awake and readily came out to check the commotion either). This connects everything.

Think about it rationally. It makes absolutely no sense for those involved in the previous case to make an imitation of their own. On paper, only 4 people knew what happened, and Nico ran off leaving the only necessary tool(tape) to replicate this. Should any of the 3 try to imitate a crime only they knew and able to replicate, they are basically yelling they're the only targets from the get-go (and isn't this what's happening right now?)which is beyond absurd. However, if a third party does exist, it changes everything, they would have everything to gain from pulling an imitation since the premise would exclude their possibility permanently.

Based on the aforementioned points, I will make a tentative prediction about one event we are likely gonna see in ep 15（or 16 depending on pacing）: A scrum debate will happen soon, concerning whether or not Ace&Eden really is the only option scope for imitation crime, for they will most certainly discuss the very reason why they imitate and promptly realized the absurdity thereof. The narrative would seem really off if they don't dabble on why, accepting imitation for the sake of imitation. Some will take the stance that such attempt would be illogical for a rational conspirator in the first place, others will insist on the lack of direct evidence of a third party.

(I just realized the dev could've intentionally let Ace kick the tape out of sight because they have much greater incentive to do so but it's very close to premiere so I won't elaborate since either way my theory itself is the same)I am basing this theory on the assumption that the tape went missing under the dialogue box cg is dev's mistake, because the tape on the ground scene always includes Ace on the ground and the moment he stood it changed which feels too abrupt and dev might just forgot to add that, and there is not a single scene that showed the tape missing without such blockade.

More importantly, there were some clues to back my assumption in the "i'm not fxxing dead!" scene. The tape is placed rather near in front of Ace, a little to our right. Yet, when he stood up he knocked Eden out to our left. It would seem shaky if we take this alone by face value as it could just be a dramatic effect, but what happened afterward is the camera itself clearly turned left to film Eden gradually standing, and turned right to focus on Ace and then turned further right to focus on Teruko, which clearly suggested the actual positioning is: Eden Ace (tape?) Teruko (tape ?) . Problem is, the tape still exitsted right before, and went missing right after Ace stood up under the Teruko "yeah i figured" dialogue box, few secs before Eden stood up, therefore her positioning would exclude her possibility of getting it. And Ace couldn't get it either since four eyes were, and the camera was mostly on him, even depicting him reaching his wound with two hands.

I think If the dev did had such meticulous intent for this hidden scene to be the key to locking the culprit, they would most likely be equally meticulous about either the tape's positioning or Ace's act to make unequivocal sense that one of them would have a clear window to obtain it, which in turn suggests they probably never had such intention to begin with.

Also, we got to consider factoring in complementary details like the starched clothes ball(Levi was the only one who mentioned being in the laundry room some time at night in ep10),Eden mentioning "someone's been following her" (I'm 100% sure this is what the dev planted to make sense of why a 3rd party could overhear Eden&Arturo&Arei event), Arei's missing glove(both Eden and Ace wears glove, Levi doesn't), enough strength to throw the rope near the ceiling(they emphasized early in one scene how high the ceiling is and eden is the smallest girl) Whit trying to make an argument about another motive Levi could have for killing Arei yet got cut off, and trying to redirect the crew's attention back to Levi's secret itself for some reason and got cut off again in ep13 11:22 12:44 (this i think is super super important and it seems only I was mentioning this). These solid details are all adding to the likelihood of Levi, and I really can't find as many other details to back Eden or Ace.

I also had a secondary theory back when ep13 dropped might worth mentioning: could the fish simply be symbolic? Sleep with the fish(godfather thingy)? Levi's background story suggests he is very likely involved in mafia conficts. J even asked him if he was "in" the mafia to which he prompt answered No. But very interestingly the dev specifically gives him a pondering "..." scene immediately after his respond to show he seemed to be thinking about the definition of his involement, then J pushed him to elaborate and he digressed.(starting from ep13 1:28) And Levi did have Italian surname.

I don't have that much confidence in this intepretation alone to begin with as I thought it is a bit old school. But since my major theory makes sense, this one doesn't seem so far-fetched anymore.

[roosteraloha]

for worse

jake seresin x reader

wc - 5.5k

warnings - ANGST !! blood, injuries to reader, mentions cleaning up said injuries, arguments + discussions of chronic pain

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

a/n - this is pure angst. i have no clue where this came from but I was so inspired and this just wrote itself.

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated!!

It’s been a long few weeks for the both of you, not having much time to spend with each other. Having two very busy schedules often meant that one of you missed the other, and heartbreakingly, it was commonly by just a few minutes. Jake’s schedule was vastly more complicated than your own, with the possibility of receiving deployment papers or new missions, occasionally with almost no advance notice. Thankfully, the pair of you hadn’t had to worry about working through the complexities that came with being in a relationship during deployments yet, something that Jake was especially grateful for. He saw himself spending the rest of his life with you, if you let him, but knew a poorly timed deployment had the potential to ruin the longevity of your relationship. That is something that nags at the back of Jake’s mind each and every time he climbs into his plane.

Jake was deeply relieved to be heading home. The entire week had dragged, countless new training exercises and protocols had made for a physically and emotionally draining week. Heading home to spend the weekend with you was exactly what he needed. Still a relatively new relationship, Jake was uncharacteristically nervous, he was eager to take the next step, moving in together, but was keenly aware of just how flighty and generally anxious you were. Moving too fast with you would be heartbreaking, simply because he knew he could lose you, far easier than he gained you.

Pulling into his driveway, the dark house is highly concerning to Jake. Frowning, he checks his watch, and then his phone, acutely aware that he could’ve taken longer on base than he planned, only to find it was 6pm, the agreed upon time. He had text during his lunch break, a quick conversation that informed you that he’d be a bit later than anticipated, and your immediate response reassuring him that you’d be there anyway. What had happened in those six hours that you couldn’t let him know you wouldn’t be here to greet him.

A quick sweep of his house, and no sign of you. No keys, no shoes kicked off by the door, every room empty. Alarm bells start ringing, Jake knows you. You’re not one to not follow through on plans, you’d always text, call or anything you could to get the message through, that’s one of the first things Jake loved about you.

A rather rapid drive over to your apartment is not the calming result Jake was expecting. Actually, it’s far more alarming to have no response at the door, finding it void of you, not even tucked up in bed for an after work nap, like you had been known to do. Jake was half expecting to find you asleep in your apartment, but it being empty, that was far more concerning. It wasn’t like you to just disappear.

On the way back to his house, Jake swung by the café, wondering if you’d picked up an extra shift, and had just forgotten to let him know. His heart clenched when you weren’t there. Your colleagues told him they’d seen you leave at 4pm, your usual finishing time on Fridays, so you could spend extra time with Jake over the weekend. They too were concerned, the usually confident aviator, someone they’d grown to love having around, now having cracks in his carefree persona, his worry for you nearing panic.

Jake’s shoulders felt heavier when he returned home to no signs of you. The worry of not knowing where you were, weighing down on his heart, and his mind.

It was now 7PM.

Jake was still alone in his house, with no communication from you, and all he wanted was to know if you were okay or not.

With still no word from you, Jake decided to head to bed. While he was deeply concerned for you, he also knew he couldn’t stay up all night, he needed to sleep if he was going to look for you.

Trudging up the stairs, Jake’s heart grew heavier and heavier. His concern for you was growing with every hour that passed without any news from you. Exhaling deeply, Jake turned to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look at his bed, the side where you should be sleeping.

Brows furrowed, Jake’s eyes scanned the room again. Something was off, something was different from usual, a fact he knew due to his military level of attention to detail.

The right-hand bedside table. Your side.

A slight glisten caught Jake’s eye.

Cautiously approaching to get a better look, only to trip over something, stumbling and grabbing the bed to stay upright. Muttering grumbles under his breath, Jake looked down to see what he tripped over. A pair of boots. More specifically, your boots. His eyes widened at the realisation, eyes darting to the bedside table. Your keys. He knew they were yours from the cowboy hat keychain, the one he bought you from his last trip to Texas, something to remind you of him always.

Heart pounding in his chest, Jake rushes around the end of the bed, calling out for you, turning on countless lights, searching anywhere for you in the diminishing daylight.

The panic in Jake was rising, you weren’t downstairs, and he only had a few rooms left upstairs to check. A slight thud from his en-suite bathroom had him rushing back to his room, nudging the bathroom door open with caution, unsure of what he would find.

From the warm glow of the bedroom lights, Jake can see the outline of your body, curled up on the cold bathroom tiles, knees pulled tight to your chest, head resting against them. That relief he felt was short-lived.

Something was wrong.

Blinded by the immense relief of finding you, Jake pushes the door open further, a forceful shove which causes the door to slam into the wall, making you flinch at the sudden noise. "How long have you been home?! I’ve been looking around for you like crazy! I went to your place and you weren’t there, I even went to the café looking for you!” Jake’s tone is demanding, laced with anger and frustration that you must have been here all along and just never bothered to let him know.

Jake scoffed at your silence, you didn’t even look up at him, instead having remained staring at the ground like had been doing for who knows how long. There’s a quiet mumble that fills the otherwise silent bathroom, almost going unheard by an exasperated Jake. Spinning on his heels, he crosses the short distance between you both, and crouches down directly in front of you, taking a softer approach this time.

���Hey, darlin’. Look at me. Say that again.”

You swallow thickly, looking up, but not at Jake, instead straight past him, fixating on a tile in the shower wall.

“I uh- I can’t- We need to break up Jake.”

Blindsided by this, Jake mentally runs through the past few months, ensuring he didn’t miss any important dates, but your birthday and anniversary were still months away. Things were going well in your relationship, Jake was ready to ask you to move in next month, he’d even cleared a section of his wardrobe for you.

He’d clearly misread the situation.

Now deeply hurting, Jake’s heart dropped, he never wanted to hear those words from your mouth. Not ever. “So you just made that decision for me? You’re not even going to dignify me with that information while looking at me?” The hurt is clear in his voice, his southern drawl seeping through with the intensity of emotion.

You simply shrug, knowing if you look at him, you’d break down. Jake is- was the best relationship you ever had, and that’s why it needs to end now.

Clearing his throat that was thick with emotion, Jake tried to hide just how blindsided you’d made him, choosing to fight for you “Whether you like it or not, I'm not giving up on us. I’m not giving up on you.” Sighing deeply, eyes darting across your face, seeking to catch your eye line, searching for any hint of your emotion. “You gonna tell me where this is coming from? I can’t fix this if you don’t talk to me darlin’.”

Another half-hearted shrug.

Jake nudges you gently, getting rapidly more frustrated when you don’t respond to him at all, but still mindful of your body, and any sensitive areas he was aware of, that was always his priority. You, making sure you were safe and well.

One rather loud clear of his throat has your eyes on him, still refusing to meet his eyes, but this was progress and Jake could work with this. “Darlin’… I can’t fix this, I can’t fix us, if you don’t start talking to me.” At your continued silence, Jake raises an eyebrow expectantly, aware of how emotionally fragile you could be right now, and not wanting to push you much more if he could help it. “Cry, yell, whatever - I'm not gonna leave your side. Especially not until you talk to me.”

Uncharacteristically, you lash out, emotions bubbling over, this conversation not going the way you’d planned it in your head. You should’ve known better. Jake was always one to fight for what he loved. One to fight for you. “Why do you always think there is something to fix?! Am I that big of a burden to you? Hell, what if this is something you cant fix, huh? What then?”

Eyes widened in pure shock at your outburst, Jake shifts to sit in front of you, back pressed against the shower door mirroring you, his feet either side of yours. “You wanna try that again darlin’? Don’t think I didn’t catch that but about calling yourself a burden.” Jake shakes his head in disbelief, it seemed that no matter how many times he reassured you that you were never a burden to him, it never got through to you, you would always view yourself that way.

Now you just shook your head and shrugged weakly, the fight going out of you. Another alarming thing to Jake. “I'm here and I'm not leaving or letting you change the subject. Now talk to me.”

Your eyes dart away from Jake’s face, back to the same tile on the shower wall. Another shrug, to which Jake nudges your knee with his own, clearing his throat again, this time to try and coax you to start talking to him, to go back to being open with him, instead of closing yourself off to him and your relationship.

“You don't deserve someone like me. You deserve someone better.” You breathe out shakily, tears brimming in your eyes, as you finally make direct eye contact with Jake. “Someone like you, shouldn’t be stuck and burdened with someone like me. You deserve so much better than me Jake. I’m sorry I can’t be that for you, but I can’t keep doing this. We need to break up. It’s what’s best for you.”

Now you’d given Jake an idea of where your head was at, what your thought process was, and how he could try and fix this. Even if it meant he’d lose your relationship, the one thing Jake would not lose was you. He just couldn’t.

Attempting a different approach, Jake exhaled slowly, resting a hand on your knee, taking note of you still in your work uniform. You had to have been sitting here alone, in the dark, for hours. "Hey darlin’, look at me properly. I’m here, I'm listening. You can tell me anything. You know that.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, watching you carefully, slowly coaxing you to answer him in any way he knew, “I uh-…” Stopping and trailing off several times in quick succession is only adding to Jake’s concern for your wellbeing, but giving him a better idea of how to get through to you.

Squeezing your knee gently, Jake gained your eyes dart back on his, wide and fearful, a change from the closed off and disassociated look you’d had before. “You don't have to pretend to be fine with me.”

“I feel like the pain is all I am anymore.”

That was not what Jake was expecting at all. Sighing heavily at the idea that you felt like your pain has taken over your entire life, Jake squeezed your knee again, trying to give you as much comfort as you’d let him. With no verbal response from Jake, you carry on, “I know it's selfish, but sometimes I wish someone would just take care of me. So I can just shut off, and not have to deal with everything else for once, y’know?” Sniffling, the first tears spill down your cheeks, “No one ever helped me when I needed it. so, I just try to do my best to keep all that to myself. I don’t want to be a burden Jake. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t… I can't continue this relationship based on half-truths and hiding my feelings. You deserve better than that Jake, and it breaks my heart that I can’t be that person for you.”

Jake’s eyes burn with emotion at your words, you were constantly putting others before your own well-being, even if it meant leaving your relationship. Leaving him. And it breaks his heart that someone has made you feel like your pain is too big a burden to share, even with those you love. “I know you feel like you're alone and I'm not going to invalidate that. But I can tell you that I'm here. and I know there are other people who want to help if you'll let them.”

Sniffling and nodding reluctantly, you blink back more tears, looking properly at Jake for the first time in this conversation, finding his eyes glassy, with nothing but love and care for you in his green eyes. Nodding himself at finally getting through to you, Jake smiles softly, “Darlin’, I can't promise you that you aren't going to have any more hardship or pain. But what I can promise you, is that I'm always going to be right here to get you through it. Always.”

Bottom lip trembling, you shakily reach a hand out to Jake, seeking his comfort, resigning from your fight to break up, craving him to hold you. He always does know the right thing to say. Assessing your body language, Jake takes your outstretched hand, moving to sit next to you, a strong arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his body, “It’s okay darlin’. Just let it all out.”

A sob gets stuck in your throat, choking on it as you try and fail to take a deep breath. Jake’s thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles across the bare skin of your arm is all it takes for the sobs to start. Finally releasing all of your pent up emotions, but majoritively of relief. Relief that Jake would never give up on you or your relationship without a fight, and luckily for you, he always knew the right thing to say, the right way to say it, and always, always had plenty of fight in him when it came down to you.

As your heavy sobs continue, your breathing becomes more erratic, something which Jake seems to instinctively pick up on, soft muttering of reassurances, and pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, stroking your hair softly, “It's okay, deep breaths. That's it, in and out.” Helping to get your breathing back under control, and your sobs to ease into an occasional sniffle, Jake continues to pepper soft kisses across your cheeks and forehead, “There you go, that’s better darlin’. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Your fist is clenched tightly into Jake’s shirt, tears silently streaming down your cheeks, a soft whine leaving your lips when Jake tries to coax you away from his neck, to get a proper look at you. He smiles softly, brushing the last tears from your cheeks gently with his thumbs, “I know darlin’, but you gotta let me up. You need something to eat and then some sleep, okay?”

Another soft whine pulls a chuckle from Jake, who gently moves you off his lap, allowing him to stand. Moving to turn on the bathroom light, a glinting fragment catches his eye. Scanning the rest of the bathroom, there’s several more fragments glistening by you on the tiled floor, and a few scattered across the counter.

Jake quickly flips the light switch, illuminating the bathroom in a soft glow. The bathroom counter is bare, various objects scattered across the far side of the bathroom. The glistening Jake saw was in fact various sized fragments of the countertop mirror.

Upon closer inspection, several fragments were covered in small amounts of blood. Panic stricken that you could be hurt, Jake is immediately back by your side, eyes darting over you, scanning your body for any signs of injuries. Clearing your throat softly, you try to surreptitiously slip your left hand behind your back, not wanting Jake to be alarmed if he noticed you were injured.

Ever the eagle-eyed observer, Jake’s concerned gaze is instantly back on you, stepping closer to you slowly, cautious as to not spook you. Kneeling down in front of you, Jake reaches out for your hand, brows furrowed and eyes full of concern. While an emotional person, you weren’t one to lash out and act recklessly, which is why Jake’s concern and worry for your wellbeing is evergrowing today.

Having slightly zoned out again, you flinch suddenly as Jake’s hand comes into your eye line, head hitting the bathroom under-sink cabinet with a dull thud, one that has Jake visibly wincing. Once again reaching out for you, his heart drops when you scramble away from him, hands getting caught on the loose mirror fragments behind you.

Your eyes are wide and full of distress, a look Jake hates to see in you. Your bottom lip is wobbling again as you look from your hands to Jake and back again several times, as if you didn’t know what to do, and Jake would. Sighing softly, Jake crouches before you, speaking quietly and calmly, “I can't clean you up if you keep flinching away from me so that I can't touch you. Will you give me your hand?” One hand slowly outstretched, palm side up as a gentle reminder he’d always be there for you, “C’mon darlin’. Please?”

A shaky and rather hesitant nod from you has Jake shifting ever so slightly closer to you, trying to get a better look at your hands. This time you don’t flinch, instead looking up at Jake with sorrowful eyes, the intensity of pain that you’re feeling almost becoming too much to hide like you normally would.

Grabbing you firmly by the elbows, Jake gently encourages you to stand, keeping you close to his body as you away on your unsteady feet. Having cleared the counter of any remaining shards, Jake’s hands mode to your waist, lifting you to sit on the countertop, a better hand for him to work on cleaning up your wounds.

“Be honest, how bad is this pain?”

A shrug, “Like a four out of ten? I’ve had worse pain.”

“When you say your pain's 'a four out of ten’, that's a normal person's ‘eight out of ten'.” Jake frowns, slightly frustrated that you are still downplaying your pain levels. “If it hurts, it hurts darlin’. Simple as that.”

A shy nod from you is rewarded with a soft kiss on your forehead, “I can sort out my hand, it’s my own fault. You don’t need to do it for me.” Jake routes through his medicine cabinet for some antiseptics and bandages to properly clean and dress your wounds. "This isn't up for discussion. I know you're used to looking out for yourself, but I need you to understand that you don't have to live like that anymore. I'm here. Just let me take care of you.” Another shy nod from you and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, happy to have won this fight.

Gentle shushing from Jake is an attempt to soothe any incoming whimpers from the sting of the antiseptic, only to be cut off by a wince upon finding a sliver of glass embedded in your left hand. Blankly, you just look up at Jake and shake your head, as if to say, ‘please don’t do what I think you’re going to do’, but with the resignation that you knew Jake always put your wellbeing first, and he’d do exactly that.

Jake has to grit his teeth as he removes the sliver, pressing kissing of praise when you only whine once, an improvement on the last time Jake had to patch you up. Eying the antiseptic bottle warily, you try to slip off the counter, a strong desire to avoid anymore pain, but a firm hand on your waist tells you Jake isn’t having any of it.

A few swipes into Jake clearing your wound has you hissing in pain, kicking your feet out, trying to push him away, the burning sting of pain almost becoming all-consuming. "I know it hurts, I know. We're almost done darlin’, you’re doing so well.” Next is a dressing and a loose bandage, Jake all too aware of how much you fiddle with tight bandages, there being no point applying on properly when you’re going to sleep soon.

Your eyes light up in relief when Jake tidied up the first aid supplies, “All done?” A terse nod from Jake has you smiling softly, tugging on the bottom of Jake’s shirt, pulling him back towards you, arms circling his waist as you hug him tightly, “Thank you.” A small smile flickers on Jake’s lips, kissing the crown of your head several times, returning your loving embrace, “Always.”

Having scooped you up carefully off his bathroom counter, Jake carries you back downstairs, sitting on an empty section of kitchen worktop. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Now, you just sit there and I'm gonna make you something to eat. We're gonna talk this out more tomorrow. We both need some food and sleep first.” His jaw is clenched tightly, expecting you to argue back and fight him on this, but is pleasantly surprised and relieved when you pull him closer, nuzzling your head into his chest as you nod.

“But first, one important thing, that I’m not arguing with you over. We’re not breaking up. I won’t let that happen.”

Opening your mouth to speak your mind, you pause, Jake raising a challenging eyebrow, almost daring you to fight him on this again. Deciding that Jake was perhaps right, as much as you’d rather not admit it to his face, he usually was right when it came to you and your relationship. Opting to shut your mouth and let Jake take care of you, you nod curtly, watching him step away and busy himself around the kitchen.

It’s fascinating to watch the man you love, so dedicated to taking care of you, work in the kitchen, soon noticing the ingredients he’s picking out, registering that Jake is making your favourite comfort food. Tears burn the back of your eyes, you’ve never had someone so content and determined to take extra time from their day to make you feel better.

Jake immediately is back at your side, hand gently cupping your cheeks, when he notices your expression, searching your eyes for any dog of what had caused your sudden emotion, “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong darlin’?” Eyes darting down you hand, his fingers gently running over the fresh bandage on your hand, looking for any sign of rebleeding, “Is it your hand? Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need your painkillers? I can get them for you?” Jake pulls away from you, moving to get any painkillers you might need, ever the attentive boyfriend you’d grown to love with your whole heart.

You smile sweetly up at Jake, reaching out for him with glassy eyes, pulling him back to stand between your legs, hand framing his face, stroking gently against the day old stubble. “Jake. Just stop for a second. I’m okay, I promise you. I’m just thinking about how grateful I am to have you to take care of me.” Relieved, Jake kisses you gently, “Even when you fight me when I try and take care of you?” He’s teasing now, you can tell, shaking your head and smiling, you pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him lovingly, “Of course. I will always be grateful for you Jake, even when I don’t always want your help.”

Kissing you gently again, Jake steps away, lifting you off the counter and leading you into the dining room, setting a portion of food in front of you first, then moving to the adjacent chair and setting down his own. Watching you take the first few bites, Jake only starts eating when he’s entirely sure that your food is okay for your taste.

Finishing your plate, you're surprised at how hungry you actually were. Smiling softly, Jake slides his half empty plate in front of you, content to sacrifice his meal to ensure you don't go hungry. You beam over at him, offering him the occasional forkful.

You’d always take care of each other.

Back in his bedroom, Jake pulls an old t-shirt from his closet, one that he knew you had a not-so-secret favouritism for. Setting the shirt down on the edge of the bed, Jake tenderly starts to help you out of your work uniform. Cautious of how tired you are now seeming, he takes great care to do most of the complicated things for you.

Pulling his shirt over your head, Jake smooths your hair out, combing it out of your tight work hairstyle with gentle fingers, helping to pull your arms through the sleeves, smiling to himself when you can feel the tension of the day leaving your body.

A tired whine leaves your lips when Jake tries to coax back to stand, trying to lead you into the bathroom to fully get ready for bed. Your protests are cut off by a yawn, Jake chuckles, “C’mon darlin’, I know you’re tired, but you’ve got to. You’ll feel better.” A disgruntled grunt from you has Jake laughing, successfully managing to coax you into his bathroom.

Lifting you back onto the counter, Jake pulls out your toothbrush, then his own. He watches you carefully, wiping your mouth with a fresh washcloth when you're finished. Reaching for the hairbrush he bought for you at his place, Jake parts your hair, brushing each section carefully, not wanting to tug on any knots. You giggle at Jake’s attempts to try and tie your hair back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he surrenders the brush to you and letting you pull your hair out of your face properly.

Jake sets a glass of iced water on your bedside table, having carried you the short distance from his bathroom to the bed, tucking the covers over you carefully. He even brought an extra blanket from downstairs to ensure you’d be warm enough, or to at least comfort you a bit more, aware enough of your sleeping habits, to not tuck you in too tightly, and wait until he was next to you to try and help you sleep soundly.

Propping you up against his chest, Jake hands you an anti-nausea tablet, one you occasionally took on your bad days, one that Jake had noticed you’d need through your body language. Staring at it in your hand for a few seconds, you work up the mental courage to swallow, gulping some of the water down to discourage the bitter taste from lingering. He hands you a small blister packet of them, all too aware that you could wake up and need more, but would be too anxious to wake Jake up. It was little things, the basic gestures and actions that made you fall more in love with Jake each and every day that you spend in a relationship together.

Resting your head gently on Jake’s chest, with one arm carefully resting over his torso, you inhale deeply, cut off by a big yawn. Jake secured his arm around your body, pulling the blanket around your exposed arms, his hand coming to rest at the base of your neck, fingers occasionally tracing soft circles onto your scalp, easing the tension there.

The house is quiet, which is not unusual for being so close to a base at this time of night, every for the quiet, yet reassuring mumblings from Jake, reminding you that he’s always going to be there for you, there to take care of you, and most importantly, how much he loves you.

“Next time it gets this bad, you call me okay?” He looks down at you, there’s nothing but love and concern for you in his eyes, and you nod shyly, slightly embarrassed of how your choice to hide away from Jake had in fact caused him more worry, which was what you had been trying to avoid all along.

“You can't keep hiding this stuff.” He lifts your chin up gently with his other hand, trying to get you to look at him again, “I need to be able to trust you to tell me when you're hurting. Whether that’s physically or mentally, okay?”

Gaze dropping down from his green eyes, Jake is quick to whisper more reassurances to you, pushing stray hairs behind your ear, “You are so much stronger and braver than you think you are.” There’s more on the tip of his tongue if you even look like you’re going to dispute his words, yet to his surprise, you nod shyly, eyes flickering back to his loving gaze, “I think I’m starting to get that.” It was a rather shy and quiet admission, yet Jake’s face lit up with pride at your words, and his smile only grew and you continued, “I know that I used to disagree with you rather strongly, but thank you for helping me see clearly. I’m a better person with you in my life Jake. You make me better.”

Jake hums in agreement, it wasn’t exactly hard to see how much better you two were together, how much you bettered the other. This was a first was both you and Jake, and a joy that you both got to discover this kind of loving relationship with each other.

“We’ll talk more about this tomorrow when we’re both properly rested, but I hope you realise that I’ll always fight for this - for us.” Your eyes are fixated on his and you listen intently to what he has to say, majorly aware that the way you went about bringing this topic up to Jake, was the complete wrong thing. Jake wouldn’t give you up without a fight.

Exhaling deeply, Jake offers a different perspective, “Look at it this way - would you love me still if I was the one in so much pain? Would you stay with me for the rest of our lives, like I will for you?”

Your response is instant, “Of course. You know I would.” Jake’s mouth twitches into a soft smile, easing an eyebrow and waiting for you to realise. Your eyes widen as it clicks, looking down at your lap shyly, “Oh… Thanks Jake.” Nodding, he kisses the top of your head, pulling you tightly back to his side.

You can’t help the soft laughter that bubbles up as Jake peppers your face with kisses, there’s not an inch of your face that doesn’t get covered in multiple kisses. Jake can’t fight his own laughter at your infectious one, continuing to kiss you all over, moving to pepper kisses on your hair and neck.

Jake only let up on his over the top display of his affection for you, when it’s clear that you’re struggling to catch your breath because you’re laughing so much at his antics. Grinning, he pulls you close to him, a projective arm around your shoulders while you rest half on his chest, covering you both with the blanket, pressing a final sweet kiss to your forehead, “I love you so much darlin’.”

Smiling tiredly up at him, “I love you too Jake. More than you know.”

While the pair of you had a serious conversation ahead of you, Jake and yourself knew that as long as you had each other, you’d make it through, no matter what life threw at you.

You’d get the chance to spend the rest of your lives with each other.

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@sky2nd @els-marvelvsp

[thewulf]

Honeybee || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: hi! Can you write a hotch x reader one shot based on the episode where Hayley’s dad says he still hates Hotch for Hayley’s death in s10 and obviously his words hurt Hotch and hotch then is like obviously really sad and hurt and pulls away from reader unintentionally which starts a argument but with fluff at the end? Like angst / fluff

A/N: Okay this def turned more into a comfort/fluff rather than super angsty/fluff... hope you still like it anon :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k +

Your phone buzzed on the desk that you were working away at. Not thinking much of it you turned it over seeing Aaron’s name flashing on the screen. Heart sinking down your chest you knew it was never a good thing when he called during the middle of a workday. Was it Jack? Was he hurt? Was it Jessica? Does she need some time away from the whole situation? Before you could spiral any further you answered nervously, “Aaron…” Trailing off you didn’t know what to say. You knew what you were getting into when you happily agreed to be his girlfriend six months ago. But these calls still made you nervous.

“Honey… slight change of plans.” You knew he was supposed to be on a flight to Maryland right now working on the next case. He was definitely not supposed to be on the phone with you in what sounded to be like his vehicle.

“Everything alright?” Hesitating to even ask the question you could hear the tension in his voice.

He paused. Everything was certainly not alright, “It’s Roy. Haley’s father. He’s in the hospital. He was arrested for trying to break and enter into a store this morning. Doctors think it’s Alzheimer’s. Jessica needs some help.” He alluded to why he wasn’t on the teams jet to Maryland.

Your heart absolutely broke for the man you’d slowly fallen in love with. He’d been through so much in the last few years and now this? It’s like life was out to get him and couldn’t be stopped, “Oh, my love, I’m so sorry.” Work didn’t seem so important anymore, “Can I help at all?”

He smiled softly hearing your concern through the phone. He just knew by the tone of your voice how much you cared. You cared about everything that related to him. You always understood too. He had to cancel on countless plans on you due to work or something coming up with Jack. You always handled it in grace. He thought you were far too patient with him. And it scared him a little much. What happens when your patience runs out? Would he fuck it up with you? He hadn’t a clue how he managed to convince you to not only go out with him but stay through the shit-show that his life was unfolding out to be.

Aaron never expected for his personal life to explode in his face the way it did so dramatically. He had let the one thing he promised never to happen, happen. His work life bled into his personal one. He’d lost the mother to his son. A woman he once loved so dearly to somebody who had it out for him. It took years of counseling and therapy for Aaron to see it as anything but his fault. Then you came along. Sweeping him right off his feet. He didn’t think he was ready for a relationship, but he decided to try. Especially when he saw the look on your face when he agreed to that first date. Of course, you made the first move, it was so you.

He hated asking you for help, but he needed it desperately. He always used you as an absolute last resort. Never wanting you to feel obligated to his life’s mess, “Can you grab Jack from school? I left the car seat in the house for Jess but she’s going to be busy. I’m going to stay back and help. Team is heading off to Maryland right now.” You heard him sigh through the phone.

“You got it.” You knew the situation was tense, but you couldn’t stop the smile that now crossed your face. It was a big step getting him to accept your help. He often went out of his way to not ask you for help. He didn’t want to burden you, “Jack and I will have the best afternoon.” You said trying your best to reassure him.

“Thank you honey. I’m so sorry. I really am.” Not wanting him to spiral you decided to interrupt him.

“Don’t apologize Aaron. It’s something out of your control. I’m more than happy to help. Please don’t stress yourself out about it. Your team will handle the case in Maryland, I’ll handle Jack. You and Jess help out Roy. Okay?” Knowing you needed to lay out the plan plain and simple for him you were met with silence this time.

“Sound okay Aaron?” You asked again hoping he wasn’t too far lost in his head.

“Yeah, alright. Thank you.”

“You got it. Call me later alright? When you get the chance.”

He nodded his head knowing you couldn’t see him. He knew he needed to give in and let you help but it was hard for him. He was so used to doing everything his way. But for his sanity and Jack’s he knew he had to let you all the way in. Had to, “Sounds good bee. I love you.”

You smiled at the nickname he had given you. He’d initially just called you honey which then morphed into honeybee. That was then shorted to just bee. His bee. His favorite one. You found it adorable, no other man had been so sweet to you like he had been.

“Love you handsome. Talk to you soon.” You clicked the phone off before the inevitable back and forth. Looking at the clock you cursed a little knowing Jack’s school was 45 minutes away and he was out in about an hour. Saying a quick goodbye to your coworkers you slid out of the office an hour too early. You decided to risk it knowing the bosses wouldn’t even likely notice.

Standing outside your car you stood on your tip toes trying to spot the little Hotchner. Knowing he’d be looking for Jess and not you. Waving to him as soon as you saw him he shot you the sweetest little smile and wave before running up to you, “Y/N! You’re here!” He pulled on your shirt in excitement.

Leaning down you gave him a squeeze, “I am buddy! Your Aunt Jess had something come up, so she asked me to come get you. Hope that’s okay.” You grinned down at the overexcited little boy. You and Jack got along so well so quick. He was the happiest little kid for everything he’s had to go through in his short life.

“Yeah!” He hugged your side squeezing tight, “I’m so excited!”

He immediately released the tension you had been holding onto all day. You’d texted Aaron a few times with no response. Worry quickly consumed you by hour three of not hearing back from him. Thankfully Jack was the perfect distraction from your worrying mind, “Hey Jack? What do you say we go home. Get you changed and head to the park. Maybe get some ice cream after?” You asked him as you buckled him into the car seat.

“Are you serious?” His eye grew wide with excitement, “Can I bring my dinosaurs?”

The grin turned into a full out smile feeling his excitement through your body, “You can absolutely bring your dinosaurs to the park little J.”

“Daddy never lets me!” He started laughing knowing he caught you in a catch 22. You’d already told him he could bring them knowing it wasn’t usually allowed.

Shaking your head, you shut the door before climbing into the driver’s seat, “Well, let’s not tell daddy then.” Hearing his snicker in the back seat sent you into a fit of laughter. Who knew one so little could make you feel so much better just through the joy he brought? That was Jack Hotchner. The little light that kept shining.

“Okay!” He clapped his hands together knowing the two of you now had a secret. You knew it wasn’t a great thing for him to pick up on but what was a little white lie? That’s life.

The two of you chatted the entire way home from school and to the park. You’d learned his best friend, Dylan, had a crush on a girl that Jack thought was gross. You tried convincing him that girls weren’t gross, but he wasn’t having any of that.

Jack was too smart for his own good. He told you about how he watched the other kids and always knew what they were going to do before they seemed to know. That was all Aaron shining right through his baby. It amazed you how quickly children picked up on their environment. Jack was no exception, the sponge that he was.

Lucky for you, all the running around with dinosaur’s tired the poor kid right on out. After making him some mac and cheese for dinner he fell asleep right on your lap while watching cartoons. It all felt so right. A domestic life you craved. To be running your hands through his hair as he held on to you fast asleep.

You were woken up by the soft click of the front door. The daylight had completely vanished. Aaron turned on the kitchen lights not expecting to see you and Jack cuddling on the couch just a room away. For as awful as the day had turned out to be the sight before him made him realize it would be okay. He had the right people in his life. He had you.

His sour mood from the shitty day immediately vanishing seeing your sleepy face waking up. Your arms were holding Jack tightly as you contorted making sure he was comfortable. He noticed that. You were always making sure that Jack was okay. You always checked in on him making sure to show that his opinions mattered. He genuinely mattered to you. Just one of the things that made Aaron fall so easily in love with you.

“Hey, you’re home.” You wiped the sleep away from your eyes careful not to wake Jack up. Peeking at the clock you saw it was nearing midnight.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered walking over to the both of you quietly. You shook your head quickly placing your finger over your mouth, “Shh, no apologies needed.” Carefully you shimmied yourself out from underneath Jack. Scooping him up in your arms you went to go put him to bed. Aaron watched in awe as you took control of the situation so effortlessly. Following behind closely he wanted to make sure to tuck his son in as well. While Jack might not have remembered it Aaron cherished every night he was able to spend at home with him sleeping a few rooms away. Even if it was for just a few hours.

You watched as Aaron leaned down whispering a few words to his sleeping boy. He kissed his head softly before pulling the comforter up over top of him. You fell in love with him even further watching the tenderness of the situation before you. Sure, Aaron had his flaws. But so did you. And everyone. Everything else about him made up for the flaws.

Shutting the door behind him you followed Aaron back downstairs, “Everything alright?” You asked moving towards him. Thankfully he didn’t shy away from your touch. Sometimes after more stressful cases he just couldn’t be touched by you. It was all too much for him. You understood, it just hurt sometimes. When all you wanted was to snuggle up to him when he needed space. You caressed his arm through his suit jacket hoping he could feel it through the thick suit.

He opened his mouth as if to say something before closing it. Thinking. The man was always thinking. Overthinking all too often, “No. Not really.” He admitted.

You felt your heart racing. He was confiding in you. It wasn’t like he hadn’t before, but it was a rarity when he did. You’d find him bottling up and shoving his emotions to the side. But he needed you right now, “What happened handsome?” You pressed a little further unsure if he wanted to tell.

He smiled before gently kissing your forehead, “He’s got Alzheimer’s, clearly. Very clearly” He paused before pulling you into his chest.

As much as you loved the feeling you knew that wasn’t it, “That all?” You asked pulling your head out of the embrace.

He shook his, “No.”

You let him just hold you before pressing him further. You knew he would spill in due time, if he wanted to. Never wanting to pressure him you always asked though, “Care to share?”

He took a long breathe in and a steady one out before pulling you over the couch you and Jack were occupying moments before. Pulling you down into his lap you let him sit there and hold you. It wasn’t that often that he was here, present, and fully there. These were moments you prayed would happen more often but never seemed to come around enough. So, you cherished them. Even when they were tenser moments like these.

He sighed knowing he needed to tell you. He had to get it off his chest or he’d keep thinking about it over and over again. Ruminate for no reason, “He kept blaming me for her death.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. Pulling him closer you started running your hands through his hair, just like you had Jack earlier on in the night, “He just… wouldn’t stop. Kept going on about it. How he’d never forget. Even with the damn disease.” You looked at his expressive face as he laid it on you, everything that Roy had laid on him through the afternoon.

“Hon, you know that’s not true right?” You asked quietly continuing to play with his hair. You knew it was a weakness for the man. For both the Hotchner boys you found out quickly and used it against them as often as you could. You just hoped it was helping him, even if it was just a little.

He nodded quickly, “I know. Trust me, I know. It just, he messed with my head.” He didn’t care to elaborate so you simply snuggled in closer to him. Breathing him in. It didn’t matter that he spent his morning in a hospital and the afternoon in somebody else’s home, he still smelled like Aaron. He became your home. Your safe space.

After a few moments of silence, you squeezed his side, “You’re one of the best people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. I get that I didn’t know you back then, but I do know that you were the same. I know how fucking hard you tried to save her. I know how unfair it’s been on you. I love you beyond words Aaron. I just hope you love yourself just a little. You give so much for everyone else. Give a little bit back to yourself too sometimes.”

He listened to your every word before responding. Nodding his head at you, “I’ll try to. I know I’m not the best at it, but I’ll try to.”

“Yeah?” You pulled away from his chest smiling at him.

He nodded giving you a quick kiss on the cheek, “I’m not perfect. I’ll never be. So, you’ll have to call me out when I run back into old habits. But I’ll try. For you. For Jack.”

“Okay.” You grinned giving him a long kiss this time. Getting a little tired of the short kisses that seemed to miss your lips, “By the way, I think your nearly perfect. If that means anything.” You grinned brushing your fingers down the side of his face.

“Honey, that means the world to me.” He returned the favor by gently cradling your face in his hands before kissing you much more deeply this time, “I love you.”

“And I love you.” You grinned in confirmation.

“Let’s get going to bed. Jack will wake us up in a few hours wanting pancakes or something.” Aaron looked at the time getting closer to on in the morning.

You grinned letting him pull you up right out of the spot you’d been occupying on his lap, “Jack’s worth losing sleep over though. I’ll happily make pancakes with him at six in the morning.”

Aaron laughed before setting you down on the ground, “You say that before he tries waking you up then. I take it you two had a good night?”

You nodded in confirmation, “True.” You laughed a little before continuing, “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it in the morning though.”

He grabbed your hand holding it tight, “In the morning then.”

You yawned nodding your head while leaning into his chest not really caring how clingy you were being. All you wanted was him.

Feeling his laugh, you smiled to yourself. At least you were able to make him smile. You were never the best with words so being able to make him laugh it off or smile in your presence was always a win in your book.

“Let’s get to bed before you fall asleep standing up.” You couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but you just knew he was smirking at you.

“Sure thing.” You didn’t make any effort to move only leaning further into him.

“Alright.” He scooped you right on up in your arms, “I get the hint stubborn ass.” He held you tight not even the slightest bit mad you wanted him to carry you up to sleep. He adored moments like these.

“That’s why they pay you the big bucks boss man.” Sleepily you grinned to yourself knowing you had him there. He was literally paid to observe and predict.

Gently, he laid you down on the bed pulling you into his side ignoring that comment, “Y/N?” He asked seeing if you were still coherent before continuing.

“Yeah?” You answered him still there.

“Thank you for everything today. And in general. I don’t thank you enough.” He gently rubbing a thumb over your hip knowing that was one of your many weaknesses. Truth be told almost anything Aaron did was a weakness for you.

“Of course. That’s what partners do. They help each other when they need it. I love you Aaron Hotchner. Every little bit of you.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he kept brushing his hand over your side. Soothing you right to sleep.

“I love every bit of you too honeybee.” He kissed the back of your head drifting off to sleep right behind you. For as odd as the relationship was with him sometimes you’d never change it. Not in a million years. Especially as you were snuggled up to him in a dreamless sleep.

Taglist: @genius2050 @simp4f1 @buckybarnessweetheart

[adnauseum11]

Return to Base (John Price x Reader)

John helps you celebrate your last day of work.

2.2k word (longer one, sorry!)

CW: swearing, mild violence, suggestive themes

Feedback welcome!

Your last day at work comes fast, having only given one week notice. John has unlocked some sort of laissez faire demon inside you, encouraging you to do what you want with little regard for standard procedures. You can’t stomach the idea of sitting through two more weeks of mind-numbing torture, so you simply don’t, your former employer’s opinion on the matter somehow no longer consequential. You haven’t decided yet if John has been a bad influence on your already impulsive nature or just given you the confidence to do what you wanted all along. The idea of being wholly reliant on someone – even if it is John, one of the most reliable people you know – makes your toes curl in anxiety. The last few days of your period become an emotional rollercoaster but John, blessed man, takes it all in stride without so much as blinking twice. 

It should come as no surprise to you that your belongings fit into a single banker’s box, but it somehow still does. Cleaning out your desk only takes a fraction of the time you’ve set aside for the task. Your lack of interest in decorating your space ought to have been a clue to your lack of enthusiasm for the job. Co-workers you have maintained tepid friendships with wish you well and eat cake on your behalf at lunch. You are supremely grateful that John can pick you up shortly afterwards, negating your need to navigate public transport - or any further well wishes with an awkward box in your arms. You don’t even manage to summon guilt over not learning the route from the wretched building back to the flat, John never giving you the opportunity. Your decision to quit came hot on the heels of moving in with him, the most tumultuous few days you can remember since your parents died. 

When he arrives, even John is taken aback by how little you have to remove from the premises, knowing your penchant for making a space your own. 

“This is it? Everything in only one box?” He’s eyeing you as if you’re about to drop the news that there are six more waiting in the lobby just out of sight. 

“I know. I didn’t realize until I was packing how little I brought in.”

“Well, let’s be grateful for small mercies I suppose, love.”

John smiles, relieving you of the box and settling it onto the floor of the backseat so it doesn’t slide around. The drive home is far more relaxed than you had anticipated, suddenly no longer wracked with guilt over your choice. The finality of it more freeing than you had imagined. John is in a good mood too and it’s catching you up, so you agree to his suggestion to go to his local pub even though it’s still somewhat early. Your local pub now, too. John parks and you wander down hand in hand in the afternoon sunshine, not bothering to remove your box from the back seat of the car first.

John baits you with a familiar argument about his beloved Liverpool’s trade options before the transfer window and within two pints you are in fine form. You can’t help bickering with him to the amusement of the bartender, any concerns of work long forgotten. The two of you have set up shop at the end of the rail, next to where the waitress punches her orders in, out of the main flow of the room. 

“What a waste of money, the man will be injury riddled, mark my words.” 

You’re proselytizing, waving off John’s sputtering protests about a potential acquisition. He’s about to list all the goal stats for the player in question again when you cut him off, feeling your alcohol. 

“Wanna make a bet? I’ve heard the stats twice now, hot stuff, but I don’t know what the past is going to do for his present - which is babying his ACL until it inevitably tears again.”

“What do you want to bet, love? Better be something you can stand to lose.” 

John’s teasing, his arm resting on the bar, his focus mostly on you. He can see down the bar over your shoulder and motions to the bartender for another round when the other man looks to your corner. You bite your lip and smirk, not answering, waiting for his attention to resettle. 

It only takes John about three seconds to catch up to the gutter your mind is currently in. His pupils dilate slightly, making his blue eyes look darker in the low pub lights. 

“It’s like that, is it, love?” His voice deepens, pitched low for you only. 

“Could be, if you want?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course.” 

He scoffs, thanking the bartender when he drops the pair of pints by your elbow. You hand one over to the mischievous man perched at at your side, his free hand working its way upwards from your knee. 

“What’s a successful season then? Twenty goals?”

“Twenty? How about fifteen?” He counters, and you can’t help but laugh at his lowball offer.

“No, don’t be ridiculous, what will that prove? I’ll meet you in the middle at eighteen.”

“Alright love. Eighteen goals. What do I get when I win? Give it to me in detail.” 

His fingers are hooking themselves into the edge of your back pocket, his sharp blue eyes trained on you intently. 

You’re about to respond when somewhere further down the bar a glass shatters amid a round of shouting. It startles you and has John’s head jerking up, looking for the source. His palm settles on your upper thigh, keeping you in place as he slides off his stool, standing beside you. The disturbance is soon smoothed over, but John doesn’t return to his seat, hovering at your side instead. You know from prior experience he won’t key down if you stay at the rail of the bar as the volume only seems to be going up inside. The evening crowd is filtering in, younger and louder than either of you these days. You rest your hand on his chest, getting his attention back from the crowd. 

“Do you want to go outside and finish these?” You hold up your nearly full pint and John’s nodding before you set it down again. He shrugs into his jacket again and you do the same, slinging your purse over your shoulder after sliding cash under one of the empty pint glasses to settle the tab. You grab your pint and follow John as he cuts a swath through the pub to the heaters set up out front for the smoking crowd. 

It's quieter out here and the cool air gives you an excuse to press into John’s solid form. He’s still on edge but doesn’t pull away when you wrap his arm around your shoulders. You drink your pint as you try to ease him back into a conversation.

“What about our bet? You want to shake on it to seal the deal?” You redirect him to your previous conversation, hoping the lure of sexual favours will be enough to lift his mood again. It seemingly works, because he’s squeezing you and bending to press his mouth to your temple.

“Given the nature of the deal, that seems a bit too unfamiliar, don’t you think love?”

“Depends on what we’re shaking I suppose.” You smirk, bumping your elbow into his belly gently, making him chuckle lowly.

“I’d settle for lips if you are insisting on closing this deal here and now.” John answers archly, making you smile into your pint before you shoot him an amused look. 

“Mmk, fair.” You raise up on your toes and kiss him, gripping his jacket with your free hand. 

John’s lips are warm, in sharp contrast to the cool winter air and you steal a second kiss before releasing your grip on his jacket. 

“For luck.” You grin and he swats at your ass lazily, fondness shining in his eyes. 

“Cheeky, already cheating, love.” He chastises, his big body blocking most of the other pub goers, huddled outside around the heaters. 

You are grateful to be outside in the falling dark, hidden from sight so no one can see you blush at John’s hands on your body. The buzz the alcohol is giving you is blending with the heady arousal his nearness brings, making you giddy and handsy. John’s handling his alcohol better, indulgent with your hands in his shirt and jacket, picking at him. 

He relaxes more but he’s still on edge, his eyes constantly roaming. As familiar as you are with John, there are still some sides of him that you don’t see often, and his agitated side is one of them. You aren’t versed enough to know what helps ease him out of it and bite your lip in thought, shifting beside him. Likely getting some distance between yourselves and the increasingly rowdy crowd would be a decent start, you can’t help but think fuzzily. 

“Let’s get out of here and finish up the leftovers at home, what do you say hot stuff?”

John brings his attention back to you and tries to hide his smile at your use of ‘home’ to describe his flat. He agrees easily, needing no further convincing and you take a last sip before handing him the nearly empty glass. He finishes off his pint and stacks the glasses, carrying them back to set on the bar for the staff. You turn and wait for him, rocking on your toes in the cold, missing his warmth at your side already. 

An arm settles over your shoulders again, but the angle is all wrong, too low against your frame. You jerk your shoulders up to your ears, trying to dislodge the heavy weight of the stranger’s arm. 

“Hey!” Your balance is shot from the beer, and you sway unsteadily as you try to get free, pressing into the stranger’s side more closely than you would prefer.

“S’alright babe, just helping you warm up, hey?”

“Get off of me, the fuck do you think you are doing?” You elbow the strange man hard in the ribs and his arm tightens around you, dragging you closer. 

“Over here, we’ve got a heater for ya’.” You can smell the booze and cigarettes on his breath, his face way to close to your own. You scrunch up your nose and try to pull out of his orbit. 

“I’m here with someone, get off!”

“Ah shame, he’s ditched you, has he? Nice looking bird like yourself ought to have -“

Just as you are debating trying to duck out of his grip backwards, John’s back looking positively thunderous. 

“Oi!”

The stranger is suddenly dropping his own pint with a smash as John bends his arm back in a clearly unnatural angle, forcing him to let go of you to stay on his feet as he’s physically moved off. 

“Fuck!” 

The drunk man yells, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. John forces him onto his tiptoes with his vice-like grip, awkwardly stepping the drunk away from you. 

“Fucking hands to yourself, you worthless git.”

John’s tone is black with menace and it straightens your spine with alarm.

“Christ, it’s alright John, I’m alright.” 

The last time you saw John’s face so severe was during the break-in, which makes you pause in reaching for his arm to tug him away. Your hands flutter in front of you while you desperately try to get your alcohol-soaked brain to process faster.   

“Apologize!” John’s ignoring you, jolting the man’s arm and making him yelp loudly in pain. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean nothing.” He half shouts and the crowd are murmuring, gossiping about what’s going on. You can feel your cheeks flame and bite your lip, anxiously twisting your fingers.

“Alright, it’s alright. We’re good.” 

You try a soothing tone of voice, acknowledging the apology for the sake of the man’s elbow joint.

“What a load of shite.” 

John shoves the man hard, his arm twisted back and unable to break his fall. He lands hard and heavy on his side, his shoulder at an awkward angle making him cry out. His mates rush forward to help him to his feet, talking over top of each other. You take that as your cue and wrap yourself around John’s arm before he can take a step forward. 

“Please John, I’m sick of the police. Come on, let’s go home. He learned his lesson.” 

You coax, taking a few steps away onto the sidewalk. He reluctantly follows, and you can feel the tension thrumming through his big frame when his hand wraps around yours.

“I would fucking hope so, the waste of skin.” 

John all but spits at the crowd trying to help the drunk man and his injured arm up. None look brave enough to test their mettle against him in defence of their friend, to your silent and sincere thanks. His long strides quickly catch up with you, and then it’s you who has to scurry to keep pace with him on the walk back, his fingers firmly entwined with yours, tugging you along. 

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

Ao3

[cactusisconfused]

Ok ok, so I have another idea. (Please ignore any grammar mistakes)

Ghost and soap are on a simple mission that’s been going well enough, at least in the sense that they’ve gotten what they’ve came for.

That is until they’re making their last rounds and ghost comes across two bodies, both dead sitting in their own pools of blood.

Ghost pauses and can’t his eyes off of them. Off of the boy with dark hair that looks no more than six. A mother, blonde hair and blue eyes.

And just for that moment, ghost is back in that house, in Christmas, where he lost everything. He hears soap behind him, muttering a “bloody hell” at the sight. Ghost shakes himself out of it, they have a mission to complete after all. He pushed through, doing his best to ignore how his mind seems to have slowly taken a backseat- dissociation he’s learned it’s called.

They get on their evac eventually and ghost ignored how it’s cold. In fact everything seems cold now. Soap is talking about something, ghost really tries his best to listen, to focus, but somewhere in the Scot’s words he hears a different voice. Joesph. Then another, his mother, calling out to him, quietly.

Always quietly.

Ghost doesn’t remember landing, barely blinking when he felt a hand rest in his shoulder. Part of him screamed to rip the hand off, but he didn’t, not when he saw pale blue eyes and that beautifully stupid Mohawk kneel down in front of him. Soap was speaking, ghost knew that. Could see his lips moving, but he could tell which sounds were real anymore.

Was the sound of conversations on their base real? Or was the fire crackling real?

Is Johnny’s voice real? Or is his mother’s voice that is real? Both call for him, he wishes he could answer both calls.

He watched distantly as soap moved to help ghost stand from his seat, then to walk down the halls of the base…or the halls of the house? Was Johnny here when it happened? The memory of that night continued to blur, soap would fit in. Laughing with his nephew, his brother mother and sister in law.

But soap is alive.

Is he alive?

Ghost doesn’t remember entering a room. The lights are off, only the light from the hall giving a soft illumination. He lets soap undo his gear, always a warm hand remains on him. Soap is speaking again, about what ghost had no clue, but he think somewhere distantly that he never wants to hear it go away.

Soap guides him into the far small bed for the two men but ghost doesn’t bother to protest, not that he could anyway. His mouth didn’t exactly seem to want to move. Soap didn’t mind. Johnny never minded. Johnny gently draws patterns into ghosts now bare chest, something to keep Simon grounded. He keeps talking, about everything, about nothing.

Simon doesn’t know when the other voices stopped, or when his head came to rest in johnnys chest, his heart beat playing on loop. He knows Johnny will ask in the morning, but for right now, he has Johnny.

Johnny who is alive.

[always-andromeda]

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐫, 𝐈 𝐀𝐦 𝐈𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞

𝐃𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐣𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⭐︎ 1,119

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⭐︎ The dark never quite appealed to you until Din showed you the delights that could be hidden within it. Tucked away in the shadows of the Razor Crest, his mouth seeks out yours.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⭐︎ I can't even pretend that I came up with the title for this fic. Last semester I read an article by Leah Comeau analyzing Tirukkōvaiyār, an ancient Tamil poem. That line appeared in the poem and it immediately gave me Din vibes. Thank you college education for giving me ideas for my internet smut.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⭐︎ smut (minors, please do not interact), oral (female receiving), Din gets absolute drunk off of pussy lmao, Din using bits of Mando'a (sorry I am a sentimental whore) lots of intimacy and bits of angst here and there, nothing else I can think of!

The dark never quite appealed to you until Din showed you the delights that could be hidden within it. Tucked away in the shadows of the Razor Crest, his mouth seeks out yours. And right away it comes off as an apology. An apology for the secrecy in which your relationship operates.

Working with him was already risky enough. If those who wanted the Mandalorian's head on a pike knew just how much he values you...Din doesn't even want to conceptualize how the danger would only multiply. All he wants is to anchor himself in your being.

He hovers over you, letting messy kisses land wherever he wants them to. Some hit your jaw,  your chin, your cheek. As soon as he catches the corner of your lips, he focuses in with smaller pecks until one finally lands right in the middle of your mouth. There it waits, parted slightly in anticipation. There's a second of silence as his nose bumps against yours and you know right away that it's not an accident. It's affection.

Din doesn't spare another moment before he dives back in. You can hardly keep up with his desperation. Given your deprivation of sight, you have no choice but to feel every landing of his lips on your skin.

Though it’s just light kisses, each one chips away at you with its ravenous energy. In a way, you can't blame him. When was the last time he'd been able to take that helmet off so he could feel the touch of another? When will the next time be? Because for all you both know, he could be killed before next time comes. You push that thought away. Instead, you tell yourself that he's far too intelligent, far too skilled, far too shrewd to let anything bad happen to him. And for a little while, that staves the worries away.

At least it's long enough to focus on his mouth, smothering your abdomen with open mouthed kisses. The smacking sound of them makes your breath catch in your throat as the vibrations get closer and closer to where you need him.

Always the noble giver, Din provides generously. He takes his time running his tongue through the nooks between your thighs and your cunt. Though his navigation between your legs is imperfect, it's still welcome. Whether it's the dark that causes this or his innate urge to savor this moment, you don't know.

Either way, you need it. But you don't have it in you to whine or whisper for him to give you more. Slowly, he tastes you. Lets the musk and sweat of your skin build on his taste buds until he becomes intoxicated from the potency. You let your soft gasps fade into the white noise of the enclosed room.

You don't think you'll ever get over this; trying to picture what his face might look like as he works. This time you feel the prickle of facial hair on your inner thighs, making you twitch. Then there's his nose. You have no clue what it looks like but you're fully convinced that it's perfect based entirely on the way that the bridge of it gently nudges at your clit.

Hand fanning over the expanse of your thigh, he squeezes. A low groan from his throat mixes with the wet sounds of his tongue attempting to drink up every bit of sickly sweet nectar he can.

Starved. Ravenous. And you still can't blame him.

He feels your walls clench and shiver around his tongue and chooses then to retreat. Teasingly, he kisses around your labia. He bides his time before he spreads you out once more, runs his tongue through the folds and finally latches onto the thrumming core that begs for his attention.

By the time your legs begin to shake and you gasp out, "I think I'm close," you swear you detect a hint of disappointment in his tone when he replies, "Already?"

Time must've flown by while he was having his fun because without even meaning to, he'd brought you to the edge and back more times than you could be bothered to keep track of. Part of him longs to do it all over again.

But he doesn't have nearly enough self control to even try to exercise it. You know exactly what he needs. He takes as much as he can get from you, knowing full well that at the end of it he'd need to disappear once more. As long as he held onto his faith, this would have to do. You'd be his breath of fresh air, keeping him going when the way becomes difficult for him to find a point in following.

Besides, you cry out so beautifully already. Your figure squirming, heels digging into his back, you feel almost like one of his bounties, begging for his mercy. But because it's you, he truly feels pity. With his eyes adjusted to the dark, he can barely make out your eyes as they squeeze shut. And he bets that if the light were on, he'd see glimmering trails of tears making their way down the sides of your face. That image motivates him enough to finish the job properly.

In an instant, the quiet and almost claustrophobic atmosphere of the Mandalorian's bunk crumbles away as you're sent into hyperspace. And then you simply float. In the infinite, unending darkness of the room, Din's presence envelopes you as he whispers one word against your skin, over and over again.

Cyar’ika.

It protects you; lets you feel the full weightlessness and peace of pleasure before letting you gently drift back into gravity's grasp. There isn’t just desperation, hunger, or simple affection in this act. There’s love. Trust. All things that you know how difficult it is for the Mandalorian to muster for someone outside the bounds of his creed.

You couldn't be more relieved when he surfaces to hold you in his arms. Amongst all of the chaos that comes with being with him, you wouldn't want it any other way. Not when you feel his head nuzzle into the crook of your neck. You laugh a little weakly when you comb your fingers through his hair and feel how damp it is.

Din hums halfheartedly, wordlessly wondering what was so humorous to you.

You don't bother answering, knowing that he'd probably be out before too long. You burn this feeling into your bones. And you hold each other the way that only two people in the middle of an uncertain galaxy can; with an almost impossible sort of faith. Entangled with you, Din feels just as safe and sure as the beskar he hides beneath.

[sketchiefoxie]

In a Jam

Had a surprisingly traumatic dream where Jam (Purple Leo) from @intotheelliwoods 2AL Au died, and I cried about it. Now I'm feeling inspired, so buckle up!!

Story based off of this post by @intotheelliwoods

Also, song I listened to while writing this :)

(Here's the Ao3 version)

TW: Blood, some slight gore, Character Death

Jam's shoulder slammed up against the wall, breath catching in his throat, body wracked with painful shivers. He needed to keep going. He needed to find Mikey. He couldn't stop now!!

Despite all of Eon's efforts to keep this timeline safe, they just didn't have enough time. Everything was falling apart, and Eon...

Jam choked on a sob, feeling as it tore at his throat. Eon... His older self, was gone. He was gone now, he was gone! He could still hear his desperate scream.

"JAM!!! Jam, whatever you do, don't let them take you!! Don't let them get you!! Jam, go find Mikey!!" There had been a pause, and Eon had attempted to call out, voice wavering "Jam, I lo--" Then a sickening crunch.

Jam kept running, feet sliding this way and that on the ground, slick from the blood of all the bodies. "M-Mi-Mikeyyyyy!!" He choked out, practically wailing his name. He had no clue if he was even alive anymore.

Jam whined as his knees suddenly decided they had enough, and he collapsed, body crumpling to the hard floor of the base, prosthetic arm clattering beside him, broken into pieces hanging only together by the many wires within. He coughed weakly, feeling when a clot of something dislodged itself from the back of his throat. Without a doubt, he knew it was blood.

His whole body ached. He knew he was hurt, but it was starting to sink in how badly he was hurt. He felt so hot that his body told him it was cold. Like having chills during the flu.

"L...Lee...."

Jam's eyes snapped open, and he gasped, immediately regretting it as his lungs reminded him that technically, one of them was punctured.

Jam coughed, loud and painful, hacking as blood attempted to choke him, his body turning against him traitorously.

He felt a gentle touch upon his face, and he jerked, eyes flying open again, blurry from the tears streaming down his face, accumulated through the act of violently coughing and the grief breaking his heart.

"M-Mike..." He choked out, a small whine escaping his throat. "M-Mikey, th-they got him."

Mikey was on the ground just like him, having dragged himself closer by the chain of his nunchaku wrapped around a pile of rubble. "I-I know..." He whispered; voice broken by pain. "I know..."

Jam looked his brother up and down, taking in his matted grey hair, sticky from sweat and blood. The way he lay painfully upon the ground, lower half contorted. It looked like both his legs had been broken.

Anything Jam were to say, got stuck in his throat, clogged up tightly.  Mikey was dying, wasn't he? The golden cracks illuminating his body said as much. In fact, most likely the only reason for Mikey still being alive, was his nimpo. It was keeping him alive, while slowly killing him.

A blessing and a curse.

"D-Don't worry." Mikey hummed, voice crackling, and Jam recognized that tone. "N-No..." He whispered, eyes welling with tears as Mikey confessed. "It doesn't even hurt that much. I-I think I'm in shock though..."

Jam choked out, blood accidentally splattering against Mikey's cheek and shoulder. "W-We lost. We lost, Mikey!! W-we lost... We lost... E-Eon's gone... He's gone... We didn't have enough time, he's gone..."

They sat in almost silence, the sounds of the outside battle raging loudly. Violent sounds of death, and fear. They knew how to kill the entity; they just didn't have enough time to do it.

Mikey breathed out, slow and labored as he began. "W-We're closer in this timeline th-than during E-Eon's right? He never got th-this far, before h-he came here."

Jam paused and nodded slowly before Eon's final words clicked in his head. "Send me back." he demanded, a sudden surge of hope coursing through his chest. "I-I might still have a chance to fix this."

Mikey stared at him, with what should have been an expression of shock, but was mostly just blank sadness and pain, and he nodded slowly. He pushed himself up onto his forearms, whimpering as pain evidently wracked through his form. "E-Eon said I might have to--"

Mikey wasn't even able to finish his sentence before a rumbling began. With a sharp inhale, Jam glanced up. That was all the warning they got before the building began to collapse.

Mikey's entire body blazed brightly like a fire, and he screamed, mystic energy flaring to life as the building came down upon them.

The last things Jam could remember happening was immeasurable pain as something huge fell upon his shell, cracking it open, and a brilliant golden light.

Then he was falling, falling, falling down.

The gold surrounding him began to flicker, and its energy waned. Mikey... Jam reached out with his own nimpo, desperate to help in any sort of way, support Mikey the best he could. His nimpo connected briefly, grazing against the beautiful, brilliant energy of his baby brother... Then it fizzled out.

Jam almost lost control of the portal at that, heart breaking as blue overcame gold. The end of the portal was near, giving Jam virtually no time to process this new feeling of grief.

He was dumped out of his portal, most ungraciously, his body hitting the floor with a almost wet thump. That didn't sound good.

Jam moaned, pained by both his physical wounds and the emotional wounds on his heart. Everything was blurry, so he wasn't really sure where he was at.

With a hiss, he rolled onto his side to check the damage to his body. He hadn't really gotten a good look at what had happened, but he had a feeling that he had multiple broken ribs, which might be stabbing into one of his lungs. He knew that his shell was cracked open just from how when he moved, he felt the horrible sensation of his shell grating upon itself. Like two stones rubbing together.

He felt hands upon his good arm, and a voice filled with extreme worry. He knew that voice, didn't he? Jam groaned as he was carefully rolled onto the ground, and his eyes began to focus.

In front of him was a young turtle. Himself. He looked to be either in his late teens, or early twenties. His skin was a slightly lighter shade of green than Jam's own, and instead of purple face crescents, his were a deep maroon red. A very rich color.

Jam paused, eyes flickering back and forth as he took in the features of his younger self. He was so young, and precious... He looked about old enough to be in the Krang apocalypse.

The younger Leo was stammering, and frantically trying to staunch the bleeding all while grabbing at his communicator to presumably call for help.

"H-Hey..." Jam croaked out, wincing in pain, but managing a crooked smile.

The Leo shushed him, quivering with adrenaline and fear. "Shhh-shh. D-Don't speak, we'll get you all fixed up, ok?"

Jam smiled up at him, fondness for the young Leo drowning out the pain. Or maybe that was his body beginning to lose feeling. "Aw, d-don't worry about me." He managed to say without choking on his own words. "Seriously, it's gonna be fine."

With a short burst of adrenaline, Jam remembered what he was supposed to be doing, and he struggled to sit up, if not slightly to speak easier. The younger Leo quickly scooted forwards, helping Jam lay upon his lap. "Wait, wait, what's going on, why are you here, how--" The young Leo began, and Jam cut him off. "No time for th-that. I-I need to warn you about something, I-I-- O-oh gosh, I-I'm sorry-- Its a-amazing that I-I made it here at all--It really looks like I-I showed up t-to late, and..."

Tears welled in his eyes, and he found it impossible to continue. He had failed, hadn't he. He didn't know how to beat the entity; he hadn't made it here in time. He didn't have anything to say, he didn't--

Jam glanced back up at the fearful, tearful expression of the younger Leo. He was just so small. Jam remembered being that small... This little Leo reminded him of the story of the little teacup whale.

So small, so precious that it lived in a teacup, till one day, it grew out of it and became a grand beauty that the people all adored.

This little teacup whale of a Leo.

Before he could stop himself, he let out a small smile, and a little chuckle. "Hey..." he began, voice slurring in an effort to be heard. "Teacup... its... it’s good to see you..."

'Wh-What?" The younger Leo, Teacup choked out, voice high-pitched with emotion. "Wait, no no no no no, wait, you can't do this to me, WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!"

Jam felt as he was pulled into a tight embrace, and he felt the full body rocking sobs of the younger Leo, as he cried into his shoulder.

Jam closed his eyes, and softly hummed 'You are my sunshine' to Teacup, hoping to ease his pain. He couldn't help him anymore; he had screwed up. But at least he got to see a Leo, one last time...

***

Raph came out of a meeting room, mood soured by the fact that Leo hadn't come when he said he would. Sure, Leo had been frustrated earlier and stormed off to 'think' but he wasn't really one to skip the war meetings.

Especially as he was the leader.

With Donnie and Mikey behind him, Raph paused and asked. "Any of you seen Leo?"

Raph watched as his brothers halted, and their expressions went blank. That was a no then. Mikey piped up, chirping. "He said he needed time to think." and Donnie cut in. "Yes, Angelo, but that was an hour ago, before the meeting."

Raph sighed, almost a little disappointed in his younger brother. He really thought he was past this whole 'immature' thing. "Donnie?" he asked, not even needing to voice his question.

"Already on it." Donnie replied, tapping the screen upon the cuff on his arm. A hologram of Leo's contact picture popped up, as a little loading circle formed beneath it. After a few moments of silence, the purple hologram changed, displaying voicemail, insinuating that Leo did not pick up his phone.

Donnie scoffed and tried again. The same result. The brothers paused, a sudden silence thickening up the air in the hall. It felt as if the people walking around them suddenly didn't exist, making the brothers feel as if they were alone right in the middle.

Donnie immediately pulled up his tracker screen, and the moment Leo's location was online, they took off, racing through the halls, and around the folks who were there for the cause.

Raph immediately slammed open the door the moment they made it to the somewhat unused room and was shocked by what he saw.

Leo was by the wall, hugging someone, covered in blood, rocking back and forth as weak sobs wracked his body. He was murmuring something, begging quietly, soft enough that none of them understood what he was saying.

"Sweet Galileo!" Donnie exclaimed, and Mikey cried out, rushing forwards. "Leo!! Leo what happened?"

Leo only cried harder; voice wrecked from the sheer amount of crying he was doing.

Raph followed behind Mikey, taking in the scene, completely stunned. Behind him, Donnie was paging the med bay team and giving them their coordinates.

"Leo, what's going on, who's this?" Mikey tried again, but Leo only shook his head, unable to get anything out from around his sobs.

Raph reached out to try and pry Leo away from the body that bore an uncanny resemblance to his younger brother, but Leo only screamed an uncoherent "NO!!!" and clung tighter to the broken body.

Mikey had started crying, and Raph could feel his own emotions choking him up. "Leo... What happened?"

***

The rest of the day was long and torturous.

They were able to take the body to the med bay to see if anything could be done. But whoever it was, was gone.

Leo refused to leave their side, choking and crying silently the entire time, eyes never leaving the face of the turtle.

This persisted on even late into the night, when they found a place to bury the stranger.

Leo refused to leave the grave, kneeling upon the soft dirt and hugging himself tightly, humming 'you are my sunshine'.