#it's anyone's guess but they will come out bruised and bleeding

[a-flaming-idiot]

Types of Lilanette dynamics I find funny:

1. Lila is the biggest fail-loser of a liar while thinking she's the ultimate puppetmaster and Marinette just scoops her up like a cat

2. The brightest ray of sunshine X the evilest little sunflower ever

3. Lila is ready to rule the world but first, she has to figure out how to stop blushing and actually learn to talk to this stupid girl (And maybe even kiss her)

4. Marinette and Lila doing the most beautiful, elaborate, graceful ballroom dance together while wearing awe-inspiring dresses made by Marinette herself. The whole time they're staring into each other's eyes just going "Ihateyou!Ihateyou!Ihateyou!Ihateyou!Ihateyou!Ihateyou!Ihateyou!Ihateyou!"

5. Normal powerless girl Marinette was nice to the new girl once and now the vigilante Volpina won't leave her THE FUCK ALONE!!!! (Marichat but make it toxic yuri)

6. Lila's room is covered in sneakily taken photos of Marinette. Marinette spends every day ranting about how much she hates Lila. Both girls have filled notebooks just writing about the other. And Alya is wondering when they're just gonna kiss already.

7. Nooroo is so confused by his new holder who just sits in her room all day, making Akumas with the strict intent of affecting a single girl in her class. Is this some kind of new-age human courting tradition?

[urdreamydoodles]

how about scott, logan, colossus, jean, storm, hank, and wanda with a wild child reader, this is a kid who doesn’t know the meaning of structure or discipline. They are the epitome of skateboarder who live in a basement who survives on nothing but greasy new york pizza( they eat nothing but junk food and take out) . A kid who is constantly coming home bruised and bleeding from wild stunts. Its not even they’re fault they have the kind of neglectful parents that are like i dont care what you do as long as you don't bother me, so they chose to have absolute freedom

X-Men x Child!Reader

You are a wild kid due to your parents' neglect

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Colossus, Hank McCoy, Erik Lehnsherr, Wanda Maximoff

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- You first meet Logan when he pulls you out of a scuffle in a dingy alley, your knuckles bloodied from throwing punches at a group of older kids who deserved it for being jerks. His gruff voice cuts through the tension, "What the hell are you doin', kid?" You shrug, brushing past him like he’s just another stranger trying to lecture you. But Logan isn’t just anyone, and the next time he catches you doing something reckless—trying to ride your skateboard off a railing—you realize you’re not shaking him off so easily.

- Logan quickly learns that you’re a wild spirit, one who doesn’t know when to stop. Your bruises and scratches only fuel his frustration. “You think you’re indestructible, huh?” he growls after dragging you to the mansion with your arm in a makeshift sling. “Guess what? You ain’t.” His tough love feels invasive at first, but there’s a strange warmth to it. Maybe because, deep down, you can tell he actually cares, unlike anyone else in your life.

- Despite his grumbling, Logan becomes your shadow. He’s there when you wipe out attempting a trick and nearly break your ankle. He’s the one hauling you to Hank for first aid when you stumble back to the mansion with a bloody nose. "One of these days, you're gonna kill yourself, and I ain’t buryin' a kid," he grumbles, but his actions betray his words. The way he watches you so intently, like he’s trying to figure you out, makes you feel… seen.

- One day, after Logan drags you out of another scrape, you snap. “Why do you even care?!” you yell, your voice cracking. “You don’t know what it’s like to not have anyone!” Logan’s face hardens, and for a moment, you think you’ve hit a nerve. “You’re wrong, kid,” he says, his tone unusually soft. Later, you overhear him talking to Charles about you. "They remind me of me. Don’t know how to stop fightin’ ‘cause they never had anyone to fight for ‘em."

- Logan starts teaching you how to channel your energy into something productive. “If you’re gonna take risks, at least do it smart,” he grunts, handing you a pair of gloves to protect your hands. He shows you how to defend yourself properly, how to pick your battles. It’s not just about fighting—it’s about self-control, something he knows all too well. And while you hate admitting it, his lessons actually stick.

- The breakthrough comes when you stumble into his room late at night, tears streaming down your face after a nightmare. You hate showing weakness, but Logan doesn’t push. He just sits with you, his presence steady and grounding. “You’re not alone, kid,” he says quietly. “Not anymore.” It’s the first time you realize that maybe, just maybe, you have someone in your corner.

- Over time, you start seeing Logan as more than the grumpy guy who keeps saving your ass. He’s your protector, your mentor, your family. When he gruffly hands you a plate of food during a mansion barbecue and tells you to “eat somethin’ that ain’t junk,” you laugh. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t hide the small smirk tugging at his lips. You’re still a wild child, but now you’ve got someone who understands—and who won’t let you face the world alone.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- You meet Remy when you’re caught sneaking onto the mansion grounds, trying to pull off some ridiculous stunt involving fireworks and a ramp. Instead of ratting you out, he smirks, intrigued by your audacity. “You got guts, kid,” he says, his Cajun accent dripping with charm. “But guts won’t save you from bein’ stupid.” He’s more amused than annoyed, but you get the feeling he’s watching you now—and not just because you nearly burned the lawn down.

- Remy quickly picks up on your chaotic energy and reckless behavior. “You remind me of a younger me,” he teases, tossing a playing card between his fingers. “All fire, no plan.” At first, you think he’s mocking you, but there’s a glint in his eye that suggests he gets it. He sees through your bravado, recognizing the pain you’re trying to bury under all your stunts and defiance.

- Unlike Logan, Remy doesn’t try to stop you outright. Instead, he plays along, meeting you where you’re at. He even joins you in some of your escapades, though he always makes sure to keep things from getting too out of hand. “If you gonna be crazy, at least do it with style,” he says, flipping his trench coat dramatically as he guides you away from trouble.

- One day, after you’ve crashed spectacularly and are nursing a busted knee, Remy sits beside you with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “You don’t gotta live like dis, y’know,” he says softly. “Runnin’ wild ain’t freedom—it’s just a way to hide.” His words hit harder than you’d like to admit, and for the first time, you let yourself wonder if he might be right.

- Remy starts teaching you his tricks—not just the flashy card stuff, but how to think ahead, how to read people, how to stay one step ahead of the chaos. “Life’s a game, cher,” he says, his voice light but his gaze sharp. “And you gotta learn how to play it.” You soak up his lessons, not realizing until later that he’s been guiding you toward something more stable all along.

- The turning point comes when you call Remy late one night, scared and unsure after a particularly bad fight with your parents. He doesn’t hesitate, showing up within minutes and whisking you away to his favorite rooftop hideout. “Ain’t no shame in needin’ help, kid,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. For the first time, you let yourself lean on someone else.

- Remy becomes your anchor, your partner in crime, and your found family all rolled into one. He still teases you endlessly, but there’s a warmth to it now, a sense of belonging you’ve never had before. And when he hands you a deck of cards and says, “You’re one of us now,” you know he means it.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- You meet Kurt when he teleports into the middle of one of your stunts, startling you so badly you nearly fall off the scaffolding you’d been climbing. “Mein Gott, what are you doing up here?” he exclaims, grabbing you before you can tumble to the ground. Despite your protests, he doesn’t let go until you’re safely on solid ground. “You are going to give me a heart attack!”

- Kurt is immediately concerned by your recklessness, but his approach is softer than the others. “Why do you put yourself in such danger, mein freund?” he asks, his golden eyes full of genuine worry. You brush him off at first, but his kindness is disarming. He doesn’t scold you; he just wants to understand.

- It doesn’t take long for Kurt to realize that your behavior stems from more than just a thirst for adrenaline. When you accidentally let slip a comment about your neglectful parents, he connects the dots. “No one should feel like they have to fend for themselves,” he says quietly. His words linger, echoing in your mind long after he’s gone.

- Kurt becomes a constant presence in your life, always ready with a kind word or a helping hand. He patches you up after your latest mishap, his touch gentle as he bandages your scraped knees. “You have so much potential,” he tells you, his tone earnest. “Do not waste it on proving yourself to people who do not care.” His faith in you is both comforting and terrifying.

- He introduces you to the quiet joys of his world—stargazing from the mansion’s roof, reading old adventure novels, sharing stories from his travels. Slowly, you begin to see that life doesn’t have to be a constant whirlwind of chaos. There’s beauty in stillness, too, and Kurt shows you how to find it.

- The breakthrough comes during a particularly bad night when you show up at his door, trembling and unsure how to explain the weight you’re carrying. Kurt doesn’t push; he simply listens, his quiet empathy wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “You are not alone,” he says softly. “And you never will be, as long as I am here.”

- Over time, Kurt becomes more than just a mentor—he’s your family. His unwavering belief in you helps you believe in yourself, and his gentle guidance gives you the strength to start healing. When he tells you, “You are like a sibling to me,” you feel a warmth you’ve never known before.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- You meet Scott after he catches you skateboarding through the mansion’s hallways, narrowly avoiding a collision with Jean. “What do you think you’re doing?!” he demands, his tone sharp. You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his authority, but Scott doesn’t back down. “This isn’t a playground,” he says firmly. “If you’re going to be here, you need to follow the rules.”

- Scott’s strict demeanor grates on you, and you go out of your way to push his buttons. Every time he tells you to stop doing something, you double down, your defiance fueling his frustration. “You can’t just do whatever you want,” he says one day, his voice rising. “This isn’t about control—it’s about keeping you safe!”

- Despite his exasperation, Scott can’t help but worry about you. He starts noticing the bruises, the late-night returns, the way you flinch whenever someone mentions your parents. “Is everything okay at home?” he asks gently, his concern breaking through his usual stoicism. You brush him off, but his question lingers in your mind.

- Scott eventually realizes that his strict approach isn’t working, so he tries a different tactic. He starts showing up at the skate park, watching from a distance as you pull off tricks. “You’ve got talent,” he admits grudgingly. “But talent doesn’t mean much if you don’t take care of yourself.” His rare praise catches you off guard, and you start seeing him in a new light.

- He begins mentoring you, teaching you the value of discipline and structure. “It’s not about following orders,” he explains. “It’s about having a plan, knowing what you’re fighting for.” His lessons are tough, but they resonate, and you find yourself striving to meet his expectations—not because you have to, but because you want to.

- The turning point comes when Scott finds you sitting alone in the mansion’s garden, your usual bravado stripped away. “I don’t know how to fix this,” you admit, your voice shaking. Scott sits beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he says quietly. “We’re here for you—I’m here for you.”

- Scott becomes a pillar in your life, someone you can rely on no matter what. His unwavering support gives you the strength to face your demons, and his belief in you helps you start believing in yourself. When he calls you “family,” it’s the first time the word feels real, and you know you’ve finally found a place where you belong.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- You meet Jean when you crash into her during a particularly reckless skateboard trick, nearly sending her coffee flying. She catches it with her telekinesis, raising an eyebrow as she looks you over. “Impressive landing,” she says dryly. “But maybe next time, try not to take me out with you.” Her calm demeanor throws you off, but you can’t help noticing the faint amusement in her smile.

- Jean quickly picks up on your chaotic nature—not just from your antics, but because your mind is loud, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that practically scream for attention. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” she tells you one day after catching you sneaking out for another dangerous stunt. Her words linger, even if you act like they don’t matter.

- She doesn’t confront you as directly as others might, but her presence is constant. She starts showing up in subtle ways—inviting you to sit with her during meals, offering to help patch you up after a bad fall, or simply listening when you’re too tired to pretend everything’s fine. Jean has a knack for making you feel seen, even when you’re trying to disappear into the noise.

- One day, after you’ve come home battered and bruised yet again, Jean corners you in the kitchen. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” she asks, her voice gentle but firm. When you try to brush her off, she places a hand on yours. “I know what it’s like to feel out of control. But there are other ways to find freedom.” Her sincerity cracks something open in you, though you’re not ready to admit it yet.

- Jean begins introducing you to meditation, something you initially laugh off as “not your thing.” But when she guides you through it, her voice soft and steady, you find a surprising sense of peace. “Chaos doesn’t define you,” she says one evening. “You can still be yourself without destroying yourself.” Her unwavering belief in you starts to shift how you see yourself.

- The turning point comes when Jean catches you breaking down after a particularly bad day. You try to push her away, but she doesn’t let you. “You’re allowed to feel this way,” she says, her arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. “But you don’t have to face it alone.” For the first time, you let yourself cry in front of someone, and her compassion feels like a lifeline.

- Jean becomes your safe haven, the person who reminds you that strength doesn’t always mean pushing through the pain. She helps you channel your energy into healthier outlets, guiding you with patience and understanding. When she calls you “family,” it feels like coming home, and you know you’ve found someone who will always have your back.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- You meet Storm during a thunderstorm, when you’re out pulling stunts despite the pouring rain. She appears seemingly out of nowhere, her white hair glowing against the dark sky. “What are you doing out here?” she asks, her voice calm but commanding. When you shrug and say something about “living life to the fullest,” she shakes her head. “This isn’t living. This is tempting fate.”

- Ororo is both fascinated and concerned by your recklessness. She sees your wild spirit but also senses the pain behind it. “The storm inside you is powerful,” she says one day, her gaze piercing. “But if you do not learn to guide it, it will consume you.” Her words stick with you, even if you pretend not to care.

- Unlike others, Ororo doesn’t try to control you. Instead, she shows you the beauty of balance. She takes you on walks through nature, pointing out how even the fiercest storms have purpose and harmony. “Freedom isn’t chaos,” she says gently. “It’s understanding your power and using it wisely.” Her wisdom challenges your worldview in ways you don’t expect.

- After one particularly dangerous stunt leaves you with a sprained ankle, Ororo carries you back to the mansion without a word. Later, as she wraps your foot with care, she looks at you with a mix of sternness and compassion. “Why do you punish yourself like this?” she asks softly. You have no answer, but the question lingers.

- Storm begins teaching you control—not through force, but through patience. She encourages you to embrace your passions without letting them rule you. She even takes you flying with her, the wind carrying you both as she shows you what true freedom feels like. “You are not a prisoner of your past,” she says one evening. “You can create your own path.”

- The breakthrough comes during a quiet moment in the mansion garden, where you admit that your recklessness comes from a place of pain and neglect. Ororo listens without judgment, her presence as steady as the earth beneath your feet. “You are stronger than you realize,” she says, her voice full of conviction. “And you are not alone in this.”

- Over time, Ororo becomes your guide and your family. Her unwavering belief in you helps you find balance in your life, and her calm strength inspires you to grow. When she calls you “child of the storm,” it’s not just a nickname—it’s a reminder that you’ve found a place where you truly belong.

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- You meet Piotr after crashing into him—literally. Your skateboard ricochets off his metal form, leaving you sprawled on the ground. “Are you alright?” he asks, his deep voice filled with concern. When you laugh it off, he frowns. “You should be more careful. Your life is not something to take lightly.”

- Piotr is immediately struck by your wild energy, but instead of chastising you, he approaches you with gentle curiosity. “Why do you live this way?” he asks one day, his steel-blue eyes sincere. When you deflect with a joke, he doesn’t press, but his quiet concern stays with you.

- Despite his towering form, Piotr is surprisingly soft-spoken and kind. He starts looking out for you in small ways—offering to carry your gear, fixing your skateboard when it breaks, even cooking meals for you when he notices you survive on junk food. “You must take care of your body,” he says with a small smile. “It is the only one you have.”

- One evening, after a particularly reckless stunt leaves you limping back to the mansion, Piotr sits you down and talks about his own struggles with responsibility and self-worth. “I know what it is like to feel lost,” he says quietly. “But pain does not have to define you.” His words are simple but powerful, and they linger in your mind.

- Piotr begins teaching you art as a way to channel your energy. At first, you scoff at the idea of painting, but his patience wins you over. “Art is not about perfection,” he says, guiding your hand. “It is about expression.” Slowly, you find yourself drawn to the calmness it brings, a stark contrast to your usual chaos.

- The turning point comes when you confide in Piotr about your neglectful parents. He listens without interruption, his steady presence grounding you. “You deserve better,” he says firmly. “And you are not alone anymore.” His unwavering support feels like a lifeline, and for the first time, you let yourself believe in the possibility of a better future.

- Piotr becomes a constant source of strength and stability in your life. His quiet kindness helps you find balance, and his belief in you gives you the courage to grow. When he calls you “family,” it feels like a promise—a reminder that you’ll never have to face the world alone again.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Your first encounter with Hank is in his lab, where you crash into a shelf of equipment while trying to skateboard through the mansion hallways. He looks up from his work, unamused, as you sheepishly pick up a beaker. “Fascinating,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “An experiment in chaos.” You expect him to yell, but instead, he studies you with quiet curiosity, his sharp intellect already dissecting your motives.

- Hank is both intrigued and exasperated by your lack of structure. “Do you understand the repercussions of your actions?” he asks when you try to sneak off with a bag of chips for dinner instead of eating a proper meal. His lectures are long and full of big words, but somewhere in the middle, you catch a hint of genuine concern.

- He starts observing your behavior more closely, not as a judgment but as a puzzle to solve. “You remind me of entropy,” he says one day, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Chaotic, unpredictable, but not without purpose.” Despite his logical approach, there’s warmth in the way he speaks to you, like he’s trying to understand rather than condemn.

- After finding you late at night in the kitchen, rummaging for junk food with a fresh set of scrapes and bruises, Hank decides to intervene. “Your body is a machine, and you’re running it into the ground,” he says, handing you a plate of something surprisingly healthy. When you grumble about his nagging, he smiles. “Consider it an experiment in self-preservation.”

- Hank starts introducing structure into your life in small, unobtrusive ways—inviting you to join him in the lab, teaching you how to fix your skateboard, and even sneaking vegetables into your meals. You find yourself drawn to his calm and steady presence, even if you won’t admit it out loud.

- One day, after a particularly reckless stunt leaves you with a sprained wrist, you break down and confess the truth about your home life. Hank listens intently, his usual verbosity giving way to silence as he processes your words. “You are not a failed experiment,” he says firmly. “You are a work in progress, and I intend to see you thrive.”

- Over time, Hank becomes your anchor, the person who helps you find balance between chaos and order. His guidance isn’t just about rules—it’s about helping you see your own potential. When he calls you “family,” it feels like the culmination of every moment he spent believing in you, even when you couldn’t believe in yourself.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- You meet Erik when you’re caught trespassing near one of his hideouts, attempting a trick off a rail. He steps out of the shadows, his imposing figure stopping you in your tracks. “You’ve got nerve,” he says, his voice cold and calculating. You expect him to throw you out, but instead, he watches you with a strange mix of curiosity and disdain.

- Erik is fascinated by your wild energy, though he would never admit it. “You remind me of my youth,” he says one day, his tone sharp. “Defiant, reckless, and utterly unafraid of consequences.” His words sting, but there’s something in his gaze—a flicker of understanding—that makes you pause.

- He doesn’t tolerate your antics, but he doesn’t outright condemn them either. Instead, he challenges you, questioning your choices in a way that forces you to reflect. “What are you running from?” he asks bluntly after catching you sneaking out again. His directness catches you off guard, and for once, you don’t have a snarky reply.

- Erik’s approach to helping you is harsh but effective. He doesn’t coddle or comfort—instead, he teaches you the value of strength and self-reliance. “The world will not be kind to you,” he says, his voice heavy with experience. “But that does not mean you must surrender to it.” His lessons are tough, but they resonate deeply.

- Despite his stern demeanor, Erik has moments of surprising gentleness. He notices your injuries, your exhaustion, your deflections, and though he doesn’t press, he makes it clear that he sees you. “Pain is a powerful motivator,” he says one evening. “But it does not have to define you.”

- The turning point comes when you break down after a particularly bad day, your defenses finally shattering. Erik doesn’t offer empty comfort—instead, he shares his own struggles, his own pain. “You are stronger than your circumstances,” he says quietly. “And you are not as alone as you think.”

- Erik becomes an unexpected source of stability in your life. His belief in your strength pushes you to grow, while his rare moments of kindness remind you that even the toughest exteriors can hide a compassionate heart. When he finally calls you “family,” it feels like the highest honor, a testament to the bond you’ve built through fire and resilience.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- You meet Wanda when you accidentally skate into one of her magical runes, disrupting a spell she was casting. She turns to you, her red eyes glowing faintly. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says, her voice laced with warning. But instead of scolding you, she tilts her head, curious. “Why are you always running?”

- Wanda is both drawn to and exasperated by your chaotic nature. “You remind me of Pietro,” she says one day, her voice tinged with sadness. “Always moving, never stopping to think about the consequences.” Her words cut deeper than you expect, leaving you to wonder why her disappointment stings so much.

- Unlike others, Wanda doesn’t try to impose structure on you. Instead, she meets you where you are, offering understanding without judgment. She starts leaving little charms around the mansion—spells to protect you from injury or to heal your bruises. “You may not care about yourself,” she says softly, “but I do.”

- One night, after returning home with a fresh set of cuts and scrapes, you find Wanda waiting for you. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. When you try to brush her off, she touches your hand, and for a moment, you feel the warmth of her magic easing your pain.

- Wanda starts teaching you small spells—little enchantments to protect yourself or to calm your restless mind. At first, you’re skeptical, but her patience and quiet encouragement win you over. “Magic isn’t about control,” she tells you one day. “It’s about balance—finding harmony within chaos.”

- The breakthrough comes when you finally open up about your neglectful home life. Wanda listens intently, her empathy as deep as her power. “I know what it’s like to feel unwanted,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “But you are wanted here. You are loved.” Her words feel like a balm, soothing wounds you didn’t know you had.

- Wanda becomes a source of unconditional support in your life. Her kindness and understanding help you start healing, and her belief in you gives you the strength to believe in yourself. When she calls you “family,” it feels like a spell—a promise that no matter what, you’ll always have a place where you belong.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Byrd: Why’re you scared of water? Levi: I’m not. Byrd: There must be a reason. Levi: Why is anyone scared of anything? Like why are you scared of the dark, or why is Wren scared of blood n’ stuff? Wren: ‘Cause it’s gross and no one’s supposed to bleed, swimming is fun. Byrd: I guess you could drown if you couldn’t swim or whatever. Levi: I think it started when I was a kid n’ almost drowned in the bath. Byrd: How? Levi: I don’t know, my mom was probably being shit-.. I barely remember. Byrd: Enough to be scared though. Levi: Apparently. [Byrd floated aimlessly on his back for a moment, thoughtfully peering at the clouds] Byrd: Dad says you’re supposed to do stuff you’re scared of or it gets worse, like he’s always turning the lights out on me or shoving our cuts n’ bruises in Wren’s face-.. in a nice way though, y’know? Levi: Is it working? Wren: Kinda. Byrd: Why don’t you just stick a foot in? Levi: No thanks. Byrd: C’mon, no one’s gonna shove you. Levi: Nope. Byrd: Pfft. Oscar: Christ, Byrd.. what the hell are you doing in there?! That cast is gonna stink. Byrd: Oh-.. oops. Oscar: Get out and put it in the sun! Oscar: Now. Byrd: I’m cominG-.. it’s getting chopped off soon anyway, right? Oscar: Yeah, and the poor doctor’s gonna pass out from your stank.

[foolinafable]

man i love ur fics smsm keith kogane 🔛 🔝

Thanks, here's a gift to show my appreciation!

Home is where you are

SYNOPSIS: You have finally returned to earth, but is it still home? PAIRING: Keith x reader

–

You thought you would feel more. This was the place you dreamt of every night while in space, the thought of one day coming back being what motivated you to keep going. But now that you're actually home, you feel nothing. A void replaced what relief, joy and tears you’d expected when your feet hit the tarmac of the garrison. You thought that after saving them from Sendek, it would change, that you were simply too worried to be happy, but now that Earth was safe from him and the prospect of leaving again to finish the job off appeared, you still felt nothing. Your bleeding heart seems to have clotted over.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Keith slowly made his way towards you, words quiet as if to not startle

“Don’t think that's the currency anymore” Shrugging your shoulders, unsure, he smiled in reply, something he had been doing more recently, as he manoeuvred into the space next to you, eyes daring for a comment when he shuffled close enough for your arms and thighs to touch 

“Don’t be coy”, he nudged your shoulder when it became clear you weren't going to look back at him “You understood the sentiment” 

You nodded “I did” it almost wasn't fair how mature he had become, being a leader does that to people

“So tell me what’s wrong and don’t say nothing because we both know that's a lie” You bit your lip in contemplation, leg furthest away from Keith shaking slightly, still trying not to meet his eyes, knowing that you’d lose any resolve left if you did

“I thought..” you finally met his gaze, eyebrows furrowed “I don’t know what I thought”, words barely above a whisper 

“I know it’s different from what we believed it would be, coming home. I don’t think anyone could have imagined coming back to a war and having to leave again so soon after, it’s not fair” his hand reached out to your shaking limb, stroking despite the awkward angle

“That’s not it” you admitted voice barely above a mumble

“It’s not?” he asked, shuffling around to try and find a more comfortable position, not once removing his hand from your shaking thigh

“No…” you trailed off, trying to gain some semblance of courage “If anything, I can’t wait to go, maybe distance will make the heart go fonder or, in this case, grow some fondness within me for this place”, you gestured to the space “Because this, our home, it just doesn't feel that way anymore”

“Feel like what?” Keith pressed his lips together in thought, clearly not following 

“Home” you admitted teeth pulling at bruised lips, pulling his hand away from your now steady legs so he could once again sit normally instead letting him continue his ministrations on your hand. 

“I get it” he admitted and you smiled, happy to not be alone in this feeling “I’ve not got much to miss when away from Earth. Everyone I care about is coming with me” You looked at him then, meeting his soft stare “I mean that’s what a home really is, the people”

You squeezed his hand “You're right”, scoffing at the look on his face “What?” 

“Never thought I'd see the day” he smiled, cheeky 

“Oh shush”, you laughed, missing the way his entire demeanour brightened at the sound “Maybe it wasn't really earth that I was missing”, you admitted, a new hypothesis coming to light in your mind “I mean, the homesickness only really started around the time of the Voltron shows, I just thought I was missing earth because lance said he felt the same, missing the oceans and the sky but maybe I was just missing you” 

“You think” he teases

“I mean, it makes sense, I felt a lot better on the journey back to earth and my lack of care for leaving and even being here. I guess Earth is not really my home, you are” You try to look away, somewhat embarrassed, but Keith doesn't let you, hand quickly grabbing at your jaw and pulling your face close to his, he kisses you softly, only for a moment before moving away a mischievous look in his eyes

“Well then technically you were homesick” he confirms

“I guess I was”, you admit, letting him win.

[deathofacupid]

helloo this is my first time in a while requesting so if this doesn't make much sense then that's whyy

could I please request peter parker with an s/o who does competitive cheer as a sport, and gets hurt a lot because they have a lot of main parts in routines (like tumbling nd holding girls up nd stuff), peter is always concerned for them cuz they r always hurting something but he also loves seeing them perform at comps and stuff

if you want a better understanding of the sport u could research! but thanks in advance <3

pom-poms and bruises | peter parker

a/n: your request was great, no worries! i did do my fair share of research, but lemme tell you, my knowledge on cheer (or, like, any sport) is mad limited. if i got some information incorrect, i apologize in advance! i took... creative liberties (?) and changed some minor details - instead of competitive cheer, it's high school cheer. enjoy the fic, and i hope i did this request it's justice. sorry this took so long!!

summary: peter can't help but worry seeing you all bruised up, but no matter what, he's your biggest fan.

warnings: the ouchies, innuendos to sex

pairing: fem!cheerleader!reader x peter parker

word count: 1.8k+ words

"oh jeez," peter sighs, rubbing his thumb over the bruise on your cheek. it was a blue-purple, indicating that it was fresh. "what happened?"

you wave him off, grinning, "you know how it goes, battle scars and all."

"scar?" he cocks a brow.

sighing, "battle bruise isn't half as badass."

"right, i forgot the most important thing is proclaiming our dominance in the social hiearchy of the big ol' globe. and obviously not our physical health."

"you wouldn't understand, baby. it's a full time job."

gently, peter pushes you up against your locker. leaning in to whisper, he says, "i wouldn't, angel? best believe i've got battle scars of my own."

"ugh. so not the same. not everyone has the luck of getting to be a human-spider."

"yeah, okay, luck."

"you seriously cannot complain," you deadpan. "that bite did you favors! like, down there, you grew at least- mmph-!"

peter covers your mouth with his hand, "we are not having this conversation."

"it was a compliment! i mean, it's not like you sucked before or anything. i'm just saying it... improved... you."

"somehow, this isn't going the direction you think it is."

"oops. i didn't mean to hurt your over-inflating ego."

"first off, if anyone has an ego that needs to be kept in check, it's you."

"don't blame me," you tell him, "blame the girls," you're referring to your cheer team, pinching his cheeks. "but... maybe i can compensate with a kiss?"

he feigns annoyance, "i suppose." in response, you lean in for a kiss, melting at his touch.

peter kisses your bruise as well, letting it linger for a moment longer. "does it hurt?" he asks.

"barely," you shrug, leaning in for more, but he isn't quite focused on that at the moment. giving you a look, he softly pokes your cheek, to which you wince.

"right. barely."

"don't be a worry-wart, worry-wart."

"i'm not! 'm just concerned!"

"puh-lease," you scoff. "you come back worse! remember that time you broke and entered into my bedroom, then proceed to bleed out onto that cute new rug?"

he looks down, epitome of cute puppy. "yes," peter says, guilty, "i do."

you pat his stomach, nuzzling your nose against his. "see? so you have nothing to worry about. me, on the other hand," you trail off.

"nah. you don't have anything to worry about either, angel."

"watch me worry anyways," you snort.

he pinches your cheeks, and you swat his hands away. "watch it!"

"you're my intellectual property."

"oh, so you're objectifying me now?"

"wait- no! no, of course not!"

"lemme me just say right now, may would not be happy."

peter groans, shoving you away.

"no!" you giggle, "i'm sorry! i won't snitch!"

he peeks an eye open, turning his head just barely to look at you. "fine, i guess," peter pulls you back.

"hey, petey?"

"hm?" he asks, nuzzled in your neck. there's just a few minutes before class starts, and he wants to make the most of it.

"are you coming to the game? it's my first year of being captain, and, well, it'd be cool if you came." suddenly you're more bashful than giggly, and he's quick to assure you.

"are you kidding me? of course i'm coming. i'm not missing the chance to see my girl shine.

"you sure? because i know you don't care for foot-"

"shhh," he presses his palm to your mouth. "yeah, i hate football, but i just to happen to love y- god!" he exclaims as you lick his hand, but in your defense, what did peter expect?"

"you put in on my mouth!"

peter narrows his eyes at you, "vermin."

"see you tonight?"

"see you tonight," peter replies as the bell rings. with one last kiss, you part ways.

your hair was done, two yellow and blue bows to tie the look together. midtown theme eyeshadow was painted on your eyelids, with stars dotted on your cheekbones. you have your cheer uniform on, and you're basically jumping with how giddy you are.

part of you is nervous, because you don't want to mess this up. every year, a senior is picked to be captain, with a junior as a mentee. not only do you have to set a good example for the junior this year, but you have to wow everyone.

checking your makeup one more time, you grab your purse, heading out to the car.

by the time you get there, your teammates are already stretching. on the other side of the field, football players are warming up. last year, liz was captain, well, before she moved. then she got replaced by gwen.

you knew liz and peter... okay, so you weren't completely sure, but they had something. some part of you wanted to be better than liz, entirely for peter. you know it was silly, but you felt like you had something to prove. some families are already in, which is funny, because there's an hour to the game.

it's normally parents and friends of the cheerleaders/players that get here before most people, but there are some occasions.

peter's here, you know that. you haven't looked for him yet, but as you get up, you scan the bleacher. finally, you spot a curly, brown-haired boy (it helps that he's waving like crazy) and his aunt. you blow a kiss to them, grin present of your face.

tasha, one your girls, taps your shoulder, "we're gonna run our routine a couple times, okay? just before the game starts." you pull your eyes away from may and peter, nodding at her.

the familiar music of your routine starts playing. the first part's easy, synchronized movements, shoulder-to-shoulder.

as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

as you launch yourself into the backflip, you feel your body twist off-axis. the ground rushes up to meet you, and with a sickening thud, you land flat on your face. a gasp escapes your lips, the sting of impact radiating through your jaw.

the cheers falter for a moment, but your teammates are quick to react. they rush to your side, concern etched on their faces. you sit up, momentarily stunned, but the pain quickly makes itself known.

just as soon as it's there, it's gone, leaving you slightly sore. "i'm okay!" you call out, lopsided smile on your face. the first person you look for is peter, who's already heading towards you.

gently, he moves everyone away. "jesus, are you okay? what'd you fall onto? your head? wait, are you dizzy? lightheaded? nauseated?" peter grabs your by the chin, hurry to inspect everything on your face.

"baby, baby," you say, cradling his hand. "i'm okay, i swear. i might've bruised something... like my ego," you joke, smile on your face, but he is not amused.

"no? okay. well, honestly my jaw is too, or will be," you point to the left side. "'s red?"

"yeah," he winces, "it's gonna leave a nasty bruise." you're sure it's not as bad with makeup on, but you can't be sure.

"does anyone have concealer?" you call out.

jenny, a girl that's your shade nods, "yeah! i'll grab it!" she tosses it to you, and you catch it perfectly.

peter presses his lips together, "so no concussion?"

"because i caught it? to be fair, that was mostly luck."

his eyes widen. "but no! i don't have any concussions!"

peter tilts his head, "icepack?"

"nah. i'm good, really."

he hesitates, "okay. be careful though, seriously." you don't feel like hearing a lecture right now, so you nod quickly.

"i will, i will!"

"because i swear-"

"you won't have to! i'm all good. now leave," you joke, "you're embarrassing me. if i wanted to be smothered, i would've asked for my mom."

he blows a raspberry at you, and gives you a quick kiss. "be careful," he repeats, "and good luck!" he jogs back over to may, and you watch him leave.

jenny giggles as you brush yourself off, "you guys are so cute."

blushing, you murmur a thanks. quickly, you grab your phone to cover up the forming bruise. and there's not really time for another run-through.

all you can do is hope it won't happen again.

there's a small dance at the start of the game and some other here and there, but it's not anything crazy. what is crazy is halftime.

as you get into your position, you fidget. "you'll be great," one of the girls tell you.

"thank you," you smile.

"yeah, no, you will," says another.

you don't feel super ready, not after that fall, but there's not much you can do about it.

the song, louder than before, echoes through your eardrums, a roll of excitement passes through you. no matter how anxious you are, you'll always love cheer.

it's your safe place.

the music swells, and you launch into a series of cheers with your teammates, your voice ringing out in perfect unison. as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

you twist perfectly, landing with a confident thud back in the waiting arms of your base. the crowd erupts in cheers, and you beam, the thrill of the successful stunt coursing through you.

you did it, and everyone's squealing. peter's not that far from where you are, and you can hear him shrieking; "that's my girlfriend!"

you grin at him, and he whoops again.

the rest of the game flies by, and you finish the last routine. midtown ends up winning 20-17.

peter scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around. "that was awesome! seriously, like, mind-blown! and you didn't fall this time!"

may comes up beside him, hugging you, "you did fantastic, sweetheart. freaked me out with that fall, though," she chuckles, and you kiss her cheek. "my bad," you tell her, rubbing the back of your neck.

"hey, pete, hun, i'm gonna head out, okay? hospital shift was crazy."

you frown, "was it late?"

may sighs, "two a.m. to five p.m."

"oh, may, you should've gone home to get rest!"

"and miss my lovely girl's big night? you're crazy."

"aww," you coo, hugging her again. "sleep well, okay?"

"oh, please, i'll be knocked out like a baby." you laugh as she leaves.

"we should totally get ice cream," peter says.

"ooh, yes!"

"wait, don't you have an after party?"

"i'd rather spend it with you," peter pecks your lips. "and, we can have extra dessert," he winks.

you frown in confusion, "like cupcakes too? can we get cho- oh. oh! i really, really like that idea."

"good. i'm gonna let you know how badass of a girlfriend you are."

"why don't we skip straight to the second dessert? switch things up?"

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7 @477strberry

[charliedawn]

Heyy! Idk if you are taking requests but if you are. Could you write one of bnha in which Aizawa has a daughter and she gets in a dangerous fight and she arrives home hurt?

Thanksss :) 🤍🩷

It was late evening when Shouta, the ever-tired Pro Hero Eraserhead, sat at his desk grading papers. The room was dim, the only light being a small lamp casting a soft glow over the mess of papers and files on his desk. He had barely blinked through the last stack when his phone buzzed with a message. He ignored it at first, assuming it was another work-related notice. But then another ping followed, and a chill ran down his spine.

His daughter, who was supposed to be out with friends, hadn’t messaged him all day.

Quickly, he checked his phone. There was a message from her. "Dad, I’m coming home. Don’t freak out." His eyes narrowed in suspicion. The phrasing was strange, and that could only mean one thing: trouble.

Moments later, the front door creaked open, and Aizawa’s sharp instincts flared. He stood up from his chair and turned to face the hallway. His daughter stumbled inside, clutching her side, her clothes torn and blood staining her shirt. Her face was bruised, and there was a cut running down her arm.

His usually calm, aloof expression broke for a second, fear and anger flashing in his eyes. "What happened ?" His voice was low, tight with concern, though he quickly approached her with controlled steps. He knelt down, scanning her injuries. She tried to smile through the pain, her face contorting slightly. "It’s not as bad as it looks, Dad. Just...got caught up in a fight. Some villains decided to pick a fight on the way back. I handled it."

Aizawa's jaw clenched. He wasn't only angry at her for being reckless but also at himself for not being there when she needed him. "Handled it ? Is that what you’re calling it ?" His voice was sharper than he intended. "You’re bleeding."

"I didn't have a choice. They ambushed me." She swayed slightly on her feet, and he quickly caught her arm, guiding her to the couch.

"Sit down. I'll get the first-aid kit," Aizawa said, his tone now firm but a bit softer. She was home. That was all that mattered. He moved swiftly, returning with bandages and antiseptic. As he started to clean the wound on her arm, she winced but didn’t say a word. She knew her father was furious, but she also knew he wouldn’t raise his voice at her when she was in such a state.

"Who were they ?" he finally asked after a few minutes, his voice calm but still carrying a note of anger.

She hesitated, knowing this was the part he would not take well. "Some low-level villains. They were looking for you, and I guess they found me instead."

Aizawa’s hands stilled for a moment as he processed the information. His mind was racing, thinking of all the possibilities, how close she had come to serious harm and how it had all been his fault. He should have been there. He should have gotten hurt—not her. "You shouldn’t have been alone," he said quietly, resuming his work on her wounds after a brief moment.

"I wasn’t exactly alone," she murmured. "I had a few classmates with me, but they weren’t fast enough to keep up when it started. I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, so I told them to run while I distracted the villains."

His grip on the bandage tightened, but he kept his composure. "You were reckless. Even as my daughter, you don’t get a free pass for taking unnecessary risks like that. You should have called me immediately."

She lowered her eyes. "I know. I’m sorry."

Aizawa sighed deeply, his frustration mixing with the overwhelming relief that she had come home alive. "You’re not just sorry. You’re lucky. Next time, there might not be a 'coming home' for you if you act like that."

Her eyes softened, knowing that beneath his scolding was genuine worry. "I’ll be more careful. I promise."

Aizawa finished tending to her injuries and sat back, running a hand through his messy hair. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the tension in the air slowly dissipating.

"You’re too much like me," he finally muttered, his tone almost resigned.

She chuckled softly. "That’s what everyone says."

Aizawa looked at her, his usual tired eyes reflecting a rare, tender emotion. "That…wasn’t a compliment."

Your smile faltered a bit.

"It is for me."

He didn’t respond to that. He just sat there with her, the weight of what could’ve been still pressing down on his chest. He then suddenly pulled you into his arms.

"…Reckless idiot." he muttered. You were surprised by the hug, but returned it nonetheless with a smile.

"…I love you too, Dad."

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

Officer Down | J.H.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: Jay takes a hit to the chest during a shootout and gives you quite the scare. Based on episode 6x2.

A/N: I finally wrote something!! (Shocking I know) it only took me 7 months but I’ve finally got a new fic for yall. I’m sorry for being so slow to write but the last 7 months have been ROUGH.

I’ve been wanting to write this fic forever and was finally inspired to finish it after rewatching the episode. I don’t really like how this turned out but that’s what happens after writers block I guess

Warnings: near death experiences, guns and shooting

Word Count: 637

-

This case had been difficult for the team, Jay getting hit his hardest with his dad being one of the victims on the fire. The longer the chase for the arsonist, the more you could see him spiraling. You expected it, all things considered. Jay may have said they didn’t have the best relationship, but it was still his father. What you didn’t expect was for Jay to disobey a direct order from Voight and go after the suspect on his own.

After you took his truck and two way, you thought he would be safe, far away from the action. So when you heard his call come in over the radio, your heart sank to your stomach.

“This is 5021 George. Emergency. Shots fired. Offender down, need an ambo. Lower Wacker and Columbus.”

As soon as you heard his location, you took off running, Kevin close behind. Rounding the corner, you saw Jay unmoving on the pavement, his side covered in blood.

“5021 Victor. Officer down. I repeat, officer down. Lower Wacker and Columbus. Get us an ambulance!” You rushed to Jay’s side, leaving Kevin to take care of the offender.

You tried to stay calm as you ripped open his shirt, panic threatening to override your training. You could see he was bleeding from his side, but you couldn’t tell what the damage was from the other bullets.

“Jay? Hey, talk to me.” Your voice wavered.

Jay was breathing heavily, looking at you with wide eyes. You pulled his vest away from his body, feeling under it for the bullet.

“It didn’t go through. It didn’t go through.” You pressed on the wound at his side with shaky hands. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

-

You watched intently as the paramedics patched up Jay in the back of the ambulance. There were officers all around you, blocking off the scene and questioning the other members of the team, but you tuned it all out.

Once the paramedics were done treating him and he had gotten a thorough scolding from Voight, you made your way over.

“Hey.” You took a seat next to him. “You gonna be okay?”

Jay looked at you sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m okay. No serious damage, just a few stitches and some major bruising.”

“Good.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t stop myself.” He said quietly.

You nodded lightly, giving him a small smile and patting his leg gently. “I know.”

The paramedic came back over and you used the interruption to excuse yourself. You could feel the aftermath of the situation setting in and you needed to get away from the scene.

You heard footsteps behind you and Kevin appeared at your side. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yep, I’m good. I’m fine.” You replied, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice.

Kevin put a hand on your arm, slowing you down and turning you towards him. “Woah, woah.” You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you met his gaze. “Yeah, that’s the adrenaline wearing off. It’s okay.”

“I thought he was dead.” You choked out the words.

Kevin put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “So did I.”

As the two of you made it back to the cars, he brought you in for a hug. You gripped his shirt tightly, embarrassed by your crying, but soaking in the comfort after the emotions of the past hour. You knew out of anyone, Kevin would never judge you for being human.

“I gotcha.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. “C’mon, Sarge said we’re done for the day. Jay’s in good hands. I’ll drive you home.”

You spared one last glance back towards Jay as you got into the car, only to find him looking right at you, his face etched with concern.

-

Writing Masterlist

[everythingelseisextra]

Run, Little Girl

Part Thirteen: Horse To Water

Description: You breach a subject you've always feared talking about. Later, you're caught, and are faced with the feat of saving yourself. Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, references to rape, language, guns Word count: 3037 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited  @ttaechi  @weaponizedvirtue  @majesticcmey  @optimisticsandwichgladiator  @zablife  @princesssterek  @mm0thie  @callsignvenus @ay0nha  @mgdixon  @fairytale07 @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @globetrotter28

He wants you. 

You can see it in his eyes at night, though he keeps the distance between you. There’s a ravenousness to him that you’ve seen in other men, the ones who came looking for something that echoed connection, the ones who never hurt you but mimicked passion and intimacy. Hungry for touch, for closeness, for the physical kindness that can be passed from one person to another. 

You have learned that sex is a commodity. Bodies interwoven with each other births a transaction, and, in a perfect world, it would be mutual. It never was for you. You know you can give that piece of yourself, and you know that it can be taken, but you’re never sure if you can get anything in return. It’s a privilege to accept pleasure from someone other than yourself, and it’s one you’ve never had. Men used you with carelessness and a mostly rough touch. 

Your sexuality has been hidden away for years, safe from the world’s prying eyes. It’s battered and bruised, slowly bleeding out, and you’re not sure it can take much more. It hurts to think about, to consider stepping back into the world of physical touch, and so you ignore it, like a child learning for the first time what sex is and becoming shy of it. Part of you, though, is unbearably lonely. Part of you wants so desperately to be touched that you cave inwards, wanting to give yourself to someone, anyone, just to become whole again. And all of you believes that you’re insignificant, pointless, and incorporeal unless you’re being touched.

Tommy won’t take from you. He won’t force himself on you, won’t do anything you won’t allow, but he is not patient. There’s a childishness to him that needs immediate gratification or he becomes bitter and cold. You don’t fear him, not yet, but you’ve been trapped underneath a few too many times to not appreciate the breath you can take. 

That morning, you lay on your back in bed, arm above your head on the pillow, watching faint filaments in the air float through the sunrays sliding in from the windows. Tommy lays beside you, his eyes traveling slowly over your upper body, no hint of shame. You’re not sure what he’s admiring; your body is swathed in one of his shirts, your lower half covered by blankets, and, underneath, loose black pants. Still, he looks, and there’s a faint ember in the blue, a wish, an imagination running wild. 

“Thomas,” you say quietly. “I think I can read your mind.”

“Can you?” Careful amusement covers his words, and there’s a faint smile in them.

“Right now? Yeah. I can see it in your face.” You turn your head, your nose pressing against your upper arm. “I’ve seen it a lot on other men.”

His eyes flicker and he draws his head back slightly. “What are you trying to tell me?” 

“I—” You sigh, looking back up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’m trying to say a lot of things and none of them are coming out very well.”

He props himself up on one arm, looking down at you with faint concern. “Tell me.”

“What?” You glance at him, then return to staring at the ceiling. 

“Tell me all of it.” It’s an order dressed in sincerity. If you didn’t want to tell him, you’d be coaxed into it. Like so many other things in your past, it’s easier if you just give in. 

“I guess I just— I see what you want, and it scares me. I don’t know what to expect from myself. If you were to touch me, would I panic, or would I freeze and allow it, or would I want it? And you’re good to me, and I want to be with you, and I owe you that much. What if— what if I can’t? And I’m confused, because I see it and I think that I could want it, too, and then I flinch, because—” Your face grows slightly hot. “Because I crave it so much that it hurts. But none of that matters, because I have no idea who I am anymore. You could do nothing wrong and I could still freak out, or you could do nothing wrong and I’d be perfectly fine. Does any of this make sense?” 

He gives you a single nod, a slow movement. “If you’re not ready—”

“I should be ready. It’s been fifteen years. I should be over it by now.” You lift your arm to gesture at the empty air, fingers cascading through the golden light, then drop it down by your side. 

“If you’re not ready, we wait.” He repeats himself in the same tone as when he first spoke. “You’ll be ready when you’re ready.”

“What if it’s never, Tom?” You close your eyes, throat a little tighter than before. “What if it’s never?”

He’s quiet, and you feel his gaze on you, discerning. “I don’t know.”

Your heart drops and you swallow hard, opening your eyes to blink up at the ceiling, trying to clear your eyes. Your voice wavers. “No one will want me unless I give them my body, too.” 

It’s a core belief, born of years upon years of being taken from, the formative time in your life molding you into a tool for use. Before you met Tommy, you wanted to be erased, to be untouchable and unfeeling, ghostlike in the countryside, to be nothing and never be known by anyone. It was lonely, but it was simple. An end to the constant deluge of attention you never wanted. There’s no going back to that, not now. You’re too strong to try to pretend not to want him, and you’re too awake to slip back into that purgatory of sleepy loneliness.

“I’ll want you.” He reaches out and touches your shoulder, then withdraws, careful. “If it’s never, I’ll manage. Won’t be what I wish, but I’ll manage.”

You close your eyes, trying desperately not to cry. “I’m not worth anything if I can’t give that to you.” 

“No. You’re worth something.” His voice grows quieter. “Do you want it to be never?”

You shake your head, lip quivering. 

“Then it won’t be.” 

“You don’t know that.” Your voice cracks and you hate it, hate the ache that fills your chest, hate the regret that you had to have survived what you did. 

“I know that,” he insists. “I know that, because you’re damn good at getting what you want. Sprayed me with a fucking hose and got me to buy you a horse.”

You manage a weak smile. “I never asked for the horse.” 

“You wanted him.” 

“You wanted him. You said he had spirit.” Your tone still wavers, your words small. You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If you want it to happen, it’ll happen.” He settles back down onto the bed, sighing.

You shake your head, a small tear hovering in your eye and dripping down when you blink. “You have more faith in me than I do.”

His eyes close. “I consider myself a realist.”

“Does— does that make me a pessimist?” You try to smile, wiping the tear away, but your lips tremble slightly and your voice still lacks strength.  

“Yes.”  His bare chest rises and falls, slow and steady, and your erratic breathing suddenly seems ridiculous. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, trying to pull yourself together, teetering on the edge of some kind of breakdown. “I’m sorry I’m not… not what you wish.” 

His eyes flutter open, casting their endlessly critical gaze over you. “You’re fine the way you are.” 

“Fine.” You turn on your side, facing him, curling into the fetal position. “I’m just fine to you. Everything is fine but nothing is good, is that it?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth that I haven’t spoken.” 

“Tell me I’m more than just fine, Tom. Tell me I’m someone you want. Tell me I mean as much as you do to me.” Your voice trembles, your hands curl into fists, tightening, then loosening. “Tell me that this isn’t all in my head. Because right now, it feels like it is.” 

His jaw tightens and he shakes his head, his expression conflicted. 

“Put your fucking strength down and help me, please.” Another tear rolls down your cheek. “It’s just you and me in the morning light. You don’t have to be the Thomas Shelby everyone knows. Be Tom. Just… Tom.” 

“If I were as cold as I try to be, I would stay quiet.” His voice rumbles, so soft that it barely breaks the air, barely makes it through to you. “Truth is, I get quiet when I’m with people. Stop talking and just listen. What’s the point, I think, in talking when you know they don’t feel what you feel. What’s the point in speaking if it isn’t with you.” He closes his eyes again, as if it’s easier to confess to the darkness than straight to you. “I am too far away from love to feel it now, but, when I’m ready, it’ll be you. If you promise me the same.” 

You take in a slow breath, then let it out in a withheld, shuddering sob. You try to be quiet. You try not to take up too much space with your emotions, try not to be too big in your fear and sadness and pure overwhelmed state. But, still, you cry, pathetic as you may be, you let yourself cry in front of him. This is a kind of undressing; showing him the worst sides of you before you show him the best. Shedding the lies of your life to stand naked in the truth. This is your phone call, late at night, asking for a reason. This is your swan song. 

And, slowly, carefully, he moves towards you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him. Your head fits perfectly beneath his chin, your bodies curled together. As always, he warms you, makes you realize you were cold before his touch. His hand holds the back of your head, his fingers stroking through your hair, and his breathing starts to steady you. You time yours to his, your chests rising and falling in unison, and your crying quiets, then stops. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I promise.” 

It’s a vow you make in the fresh light of morning, curled close to him in the quiet. This will be a new kind of fight, you think. This will be a war in and of itself. And it will be worth it. Because nothing beautiful comes without a fight, and you are no exception.

You’re hand-walking the white stallion when it happens. His head tosses into the air, his ears prick forward, and he whips around, staring past the barn. You stand quietly, waiting for him to calm so you can continue moving, but he doesn’t. He escalates, his body going tense, then he shoots off and you find yourself dragged behind a massively strong animal. You yank back on the lead rope, digging your heels into the ground to stop Iris from tearing your arms off. He skids to a stop, tail in the air, ears rotating to try to catch whatever it is that’s spooking him. 

The shape of two well-dressed men wander casually into sight, as if they’re supposed to be there, as if you’d invited them onto your property. Your eyes go straight to their hips, where guns hang, holstered. 

You have a minute at most to act before they spot you. Blood rushes through your veins, your heartbeat speeds up, and you’re moving before you’ve thought about what you’re doing. Iris trots beside you as you jog into the barn, quickly putting the horse back into his stall, then backing up, looking around you for a hiding space. 

The men are at the mouth of the barn, moving slowly, languidly, cats on the prowl. From where you stand, half-hidden by the stall door, you can catch a glimpse of their faces. Your doubts vanish. Not Peaky Blinders, not anyone you know. You stand frozen, heart and mind racing, because they found you. They found you, and you’re unarmed, unprepared, and completely without backup. With each step they take, you’re tensing, eyes darting around, wanting something to protect yourself. 

To your right, a ladder to the hayloft. As quietly as you can, you climb up, and cringe as the wooden platform creaks with your weight. You crouch down, looking down at the men as they pass underneath you. Maybe they don’t know you’re home, maybe they don’t know that you live here, and are just checking off a box. Maybe it’s a waiting game. 

They vanish, leaving the barn behind you, and you release a slow breath. A moment too soon, as they return a second later, and one of them speaks.

“She’s gotta be in here, right?” His voice is high-pitched, almost squeaky, repugnant. “She’s not in the house. Not like she has anywhere else to go.”

“Yeah, she’s in here.” The other voice is lower, and a streak of cold recognition shocks your mind. A regular of yours, a man with cruel hands and dark eyes, whose relationship with Liszt grew stronger each time he purchased you. 

You remember damage. You remember the soreness of your body, the bruises on your hips and arms and wrists after he was done with you. You remember blood on the sheets. You remember the smell of sweat and the lingering touch of his hands on your body.

Your eyes track them as they wander beneath you. Your options are few and far between. You crouch up here in the semi-light, a passenger of your old pain, frozen in the fear of passing time, and you wait for them to find you. Or, you find a weapon, you grip it in your worn, calloused hands, and you try to stand your ground. You try to fight against the rigidness in your bones, against the shake of your hands, and you protect yourself. Either way, you’re taken back. Either way, you return to the life you want so badly to abandon and forget. 

You glance around, eyes peeled for something, anything, that could be used to fight back. Your gaze lands on a thick, solid piece of wood, broken off from a rafter. You crawl over to it, wrap your hands around it, and lift. It takes both hands and much of your strength to hold it. You glance down again, eyes on the two men. The larger one, you think. Get the larger one. 

You push a flake of hay to the edge of the hayloft and push it over the edge. It falls with a dull, quiet thump. The men turn, eyes on the flimsy piece of hay, and their slow strides turn to approach it. Neither of them look up. 

You smile faintly, waiting, biding your time. When they’re both directly under you, you heft your piece of wood, give it a kiss for good luck, and throw it over the side with all the strength you can muster. 

It lands true. You hear a squelch and the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. The high-pitched man yells, scuttling back from the carnage in front of him. Before the shock wears off, you climb down the ladder and run, head down and legs pumping. Your eyes catch briefly on the crushed skull of your regular, blood and brain matter spilled over your barn floor.

The horses panic as you run past, reacting to your fear. The rattling and banging of them kicking their stall walls fills the air, and your body, fit and strong, takes you to your house. You dart inside, lock the door behind you, and take the few steps to the kitchen. Open the drawer, pull out your gun. You stare at it. You close your eyes, just for a moment, and you feel your mindset shift. 

This is your home. They’re on your home turf. This belongs to you, and they’ve challenged you where you’re strongest. And now you’re on even ground. He’s alone, his partner is dead or dying, and you’re armed. You’re not backed into a corner. You’re in the ring, with a fighting chance and a loaded gun in your hands. 

You glance at the phone, and the idea of asking for help flits through your mind. Immediately, you decide against it. You don’t have the time. You can see his shadow through the front door windows, hear him try the door handle. Besides, you can pack a punch. You can pull the trigger. 

You hear his voice speak through the door, muffled. “Better run, little girl. You’ve trapped yourself. I’ve got you right where I want you.”

You hold up the gun, your finger toying on the trigger as if practicing. This little girl will put up a fight. This little girl got a gun from a gangster and knows damn well how to shoot. 

The door handle rattles. You move slowly, with the confidence they had when you first saw them. This, you think, will be your warning to all the men who want to take you back, want to use you, want to pretend that you’re an object with no worth. This will be your warning to the world that you won’t be fucked with. 

You sidle up to the side of the door. He bangs on it, trying to force his way through the lock. You take a breath, ready your gun, your finger on the trigger, and then reach out. Your hand rests on the lock for a second, the vibrations of his body hitting against it running through you, and then, when you’re ready, you unlock it, reach down, and open the door. 

He falls through, not expecting the door to suddenly give, and lands face first on the welcome mat. Before he can right himself, you press the gun to his head. 

He inhales sharply, then releases it in a chuckle. “You wouldn’t. You’re too much a coward.”

You roll your eyes and pull the trigger. 

[ashs-pastas]

Could I ask for yandere LJ NSFW headcanon?

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜 𝕷𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

[tw warning for mean Jack. slight hints of dubcon but not really. and death of character (not graphic, only mentioned) a little bit of exhibitionism

- I feel like this is a given but… he is a biter. He loves to leave bite marks all over your neck, chest, stomach, thighs and back. He may nip a little bit too hard at time because he loves to hear you whimper

- He has a HUGE size kink. He is a very big guy (in both ways hehe) and no matter what size you are. He will always be bigger then you. He likes feeling like a big bad monster and you his tiny helpless prey

- Going off the last one, he loves when you give him handjobs. He loves to see how tiny your hands look while trying your best to jerk off his huge cock

- He likes to try all kinds of crazy positions with you. Having you bent and twisted into all kinds of different positions while you are completely at his mercy, only able to moan and cry out his name while he toys with you

- Jack is very sadistic and likes to pinch and squeeze at your thighs and hips while you two are getting intimate. Most times leaving you bleeding and bruised

- He delights in hearing all of your mixed noises of pain and pleasure so he will very rarely gag you. If he does it’s because you were acting up and he does not want to hear anyone more back talk from his bratty darling

- He likes to stalk you, watching you from the shadows. His favorite thing is when he catches you touching yourself. He feels so powerful knowing he’s watching you in your most intimate moments, moaning and dirtying your hands and sheets. He definitely will palm and jerk himself off in time with your fingers

- Loves to tie his darling up. Loves to use all sorts of ribbons and silks and tie pretty bows all over your private areas. Loves unwrapping you like the gift he sees you as

- Punishment time with Laughing Jack is very cruel. He will tie you up tightly and work you up close to the edge before he will pull away “Little brats don’t deserve to feel good.” He will then leave you for a few hours. Crying, exposed and unbearably turned on

- Laughing Jack surprisingly does not like to initiate sexual acts. He likes to tease you and get you worked up until you have to come begging for him to make you feel good. He thinks you look so cute all pitiful and desperate for him

- But that doesn’t mean he will give it to you easily… will act intentionally dumb and touch you everywhere but where you need him most. “Is that not what you want dearest?” and when you tell him exactly what you want he will laugh loudly and degrade you. “Who knew my darling was so dirty minded? I’ll give you exactly what you want but you need to use your words and tell me exactly what you want.”

- His favorite sight is seeing your embarrassed face when he taunts you. It makes Jack so hard to see little tears form in your eyes as you shiver in his hold

- His favorite positions are either picking you up and fucking you against the nearest wall. (He loves destroying your poor hole and demonstrating how strong he is compared to you at the same time)

- His other favorite position is you riding him. He loves watching you bounce yourself on his big cock. He will lay back and smirk while you struggle to take all of him. When you get tired and your legs start to shake he will grab your hips and start thrusting into you roughly and deeply. He will giggle in your face and mock you, “Oh poor baby can’t handle it? I thought you said you could? Guess I will have to do all the work.”

- Jack likes to dress you up in all kinds of frilly and revealing outfits. He likes how cute you look always trying to cover yourself embarrassed by the lack of coverage you have

- Jack is more of a receiver but trust me he will never stop without making you cum at least once

- Jack is not shy and would love to fuck you in front of other people who made him jealous. He will tease you for being so shy when you are always acting so slutty for him. ( but those people disappear the next day? how weird?)

I hope you enjoy!!

[tokiwarcube]

toki relationship headcanons NSFW/romantic please and thank youuu

Yes boss! SFW post HERE

You wouldn't guess it from how little I post about him, but I uh. I definitely used to have a huge Toki bias, and I think that bleeds through here.

Some harder kinks mentioned: Dom Toki, breeding kink, creampies, light exhibitionism, marking, edging, overstim, light degredation, brief mention of his hand on your throat (: No actual choking described though. Reader is completely gender neutral (:

Enjoy!

You know, it’s always the sweet ones.

I spoke a bit on this in his SFW section, but Toki has a thing for control. And you bet your ass this absolutely applies to the bedroom scene.

He’s your sweetest man outside of your bedroom, but once under the covers he’s all firm hands and strict words.

Breeding kink, through the fucking roof. Your actual ability to get pregnant is irrelevant to him — tell him it’s impossible, and he’ll only try harder. The obsession comes from a slew of different sources, but really, the exact root of it all doesn’t matter too much. It’s not something you’re thinking about when he’s buried to the hilt in you with his hand around your throat, coaxing you into begging for it, begging him to fill you up.

He’s separates photos in his phone, and he has a whole locked album of you, splayed out and panting with cum leaking from your twitching hole. It’s one of his favorite sights, truly.

As we all know, Toki is cut as fuck, and he will be using this to his advantage in the bedroom. He loves leaving little bruises on your hips, your wrists, the plush of your thighs. Not to mention how easily he moves you into the position he wants at any given second — legs pressed to your chest one moment, and flipped onto your stomach the next. Don’t you worry about a thing — he’ll take care of it.

He always makes you use your words in bed. Half of it is for the reassurance that you actually want this, that he isn’t being too rough or taking advantage… but the other half loves the fluster that overtakes you when you choke out the depraved little requests for more.

He’s a complete tease both in the lead-up and the event itself. He’ll drive you mad outside of the bedroom, playing coy all night, pretending like he doesn’t know the effect he has on you. And it doesn’t stop in the bedroom, either — he’ll drag the event out for as long as he can, giddy at the prospect of seeing you so unraveled and needy.

Into both edging and overstimulation — for both you and himself — and will often trail from one into the other if time allows. So don’t beg too hard to cum — he might give you a bit more than you’re bargaining for.

Again, if you’ve given it the okay, Toki can be mean. You’re his perfect little slut, aren’t you? You can take it.

Possessive as all get out. His biggest fantasy is to fuck you in front of the boys, to show them how fucking whipped you are for him. He’d never do it of course — the actual thought of anyone else seeing you in this state kills any drive he has — but that doesn’t stop him from murmuring such depravities into your ear when you get a bit too loud.

He loves both giving and receiving head. (I disrespectfully disregard goingdownklok on this issue. I choose to believe that up until then, he had never actually gone down on anyone before, so get that man between your thighs once, and he’s not coming up for air. He also loves receiving head though — he’s adamant about keeping eye-contact throughout the whole event.)

He loves any position where he can be close to you — mating press is the obvious choice, but he also loves flat-doggy. Chest pressed to your back, flattening you against the mattress, with his hand in your hair so he can watch your expressions? Heaven.

But for all his roughness in the sheets, he’s also very tender. Always mindful of any attempts at safewording, always acquiesces to the small comforts, and aftercare is nothing short of divine. He has a thing for kissing during sex as well — no matter how roughly you’re being edged towards the precipice, his kisses are always very tender and sweet.

He’s oh, so pretty when he comes. It’s cute in a way, watching the hard guise of dominance give way to strangled whines, eyes wide as the air is punched from his lungs.

[archangeldyke-all]

okay, hear me out… spiderman!sevika 😮‍💨

granted, i've never seen any of the spider man movies so this is all just guess work but... u are definitely onto something with this, anon.

men and minors dni

singed and silco, two scientists on the cutting edge of genetic modification and microbiology, joined forces three years ago to experiment with spiders in order to produce webs that could be used in surgeries to quickly close badly bleeding arteries.

you and sevika, their respective lab assistants, have been working together ever since.

while the two doctors make their rounds at various government agencies and universities, asking for grants to fund their research; you and sevika spend your days holed up in the lab together, studying spiders and looking through microscopes.

you guys have grown pretty close. your work is your life, sevika's is hers: you're both in the lab for upwards of twelve hours a day on average. which means that you guys know each other really well. you're lucky your lab partner is so attractive and charming. she's lucky that you remember to eat three times a day, and always drag her along with you.

you're there the night sevika gets bit by a spider that singed named 'shimmer.'

you're right by her side, watching in horror as the bite swells her hand up until it's the size of her face-- and then deflates and goes back to normal within a minute. you're there to gasp in horror as you watch sparkly blue streaks engrave themselves up sevika's left arm, onto her neck and jaw. you're there to catch her when she passes out, you're the first thing she sees when she wakes up after.

she comes back to work the next morning insisting she's fine and refusing to make eye contact with you.

she's obviously not fine. but you don't mention it.

you don't mention it when she starts coming to work with bruises and scrapes-- broken glass in her hair.

you don't mention it when a mysterious new vigilante starts making the rounds around town-- preventing crimes that just so happen to occur while you and sevika aren't in the lab-- apparently shooting webs and swinging away before anyone can get a good look at them.

you don't even mention the police scanner she brings in to listen to while the two of you work.

but when you get the lab one late night to check on some spiders you've been trying to get to mate and find sevika in a shredded red costume, bleeding profusely from her side-- you can't hold your tongue any longer.

"oh, for fuck's sake, sev!" you cry as you grab the first aid kit off the wall and rush over to her, pushing her hands away from the gash in her side. she's delirious from blood loss, her eyes glossy as she looks up at you.

"'m sorry. 'm gettin' blood everywhere..."

"fuck-- just-- sit back for me okay?" you ask.

"don' take me to the hospital... they'll take me away for tests 'n i'll never come back." she mumbles. your heart breaks for her and all the fear in her voice, and you nod, promising her. she passes out moments after.

you patch her up and get her out of her blood soaked costume, then lay her down on the little couch in your break room.

you don't take your sight off of her the entire night. you keep your eyes focused on the steady rise and fall of her chest, and you keep your mind focused on the scolding you're going to give her when she wakes up.

and when she does wake up, and seemingly remembers all that's happened, she immediately tries to cover it up.

"it's not what you think, i got robbed!" she says. you groan, resisting the urge to punch her now that she's injured.

"sevika, you can lie to yourself all you want, but i was there when you were bit." you say. she blinks.

"you...you've known the whole time?" she asks. you chuckle.

"you're not subtle!"

"i... why didn't you say anything!?"

"it was cute watching you think you were gettin' away with it." you say, shrugging. sevika chuckles a bit, and you kick her shin, sighing. "look, sev." you say. "so you've got superpowers. fine. you wanna be a vigilante? cool. but you can't-- you're gonna end up dead before you can do any real good if you don't have someone watchin' your back for you." you say. she sighs.

"i know..." she mumbles.

"and..." you continue. sevika raises an eyebrow at you and you huff. "i really don't want you dead, sevika. you're a good lab partner, and a better friend and..." you trail off shaking your head. "'s stupid." you chuckle.

you can hear sevika's throat click as she gulps. "what's stupid?" she asks. you huff. "the spider bite gave me psychic powers, y'know, i'll just figure it out myself." she says. you burst into laughter.

"no it did not." you say. sevika huffs.

"no, it didn't." she sighs. "c'mon just tell me!"

"sevika, it's stupid!"

"stupider than me being a fucking spider powered superhero?" she asks. you giggle.

"yes!"

"how is it stupider than that!?"

"because i'm not a spider-powered superhero, i've got a fucking crush on one!" you say. sevika's eyes go wide, and you cringe. "fuck-- forget it."

"will you be my sidekick?" sevika asks. you snort.

"that's even worse than a spider-powered superhero."

"but will you?" she asks. you shrug.

"if you pretend i didn't just say that." you offer. sevika snorts.

"that wouldn't work though..." she says. you look back up at her and she shrugs. "i was kinda thinking it could be like a sidekick/girlfriend/labpartner 3 in 1 kinda thing." she says.

you grin, and sevika smiles, and then-- she's kissing you. you don't know how you ended up in her arms-- you could feel the webs drag you toward her but you didn't get a good look at how she did it-- but you can ask later... when she's done kissing you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (Mockingjay, Ch. 25-27)

peeta also being in the burn unit bc he was in the city circle

what i personally believe is that he's the one who tried to put out the fire that overwhelmed katniss, hence his own burnt hands and forehead

her using peeta's coping mechanism of pain to stay grounded in reality

when katniss talks about all the people she trusts being said, she highlights that there is peeta but he wouldn't know any more than her about 13's plans.

"we are both fire mutts now" - still a (broken) team

"those same blues" mentioned again

haymitch understanding katniss. the dad that stepped up. i love that he says "i'm with the mockingjay" instead of "yes"

katniss being our fave feral girl by literally biting into peeta's hand as he stops her from taking her nightlock

the fact that when she says "let me go", our baker boy with the beautiful words and the charm can only say "i can't"

just another instance where these can't let each other go. has anyone made a counter for these instances?

peeta is well and truly back. to do that. to know he can't let her go. that even when she bites him so hard he bleeds, he just looks into her eyes and lets her know he can't let her die

the fact that after the way katniss was used in the games and then in the rebellion, afterwards when she's damaged and broken and bruised and they have no more use for her, she's just sent off to 12

"there's no obstacle now to taking my life. but i seem to be waiting for something" - the same way peeta kept his hand open with the nightlock pill waiting for katniss to curl over his hand for him, katniss waits for peeta's permission to die

i love that she doesn't even mention peeta by name when she sees he's returned. we just know instinctively that he's the "him" that's back.

peeta says dr aurelius wouldn't let him leave the capitol til the day before which makes me think peeta had really been trying to be discharged to get back to katniss.

"his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look"

katniss who understandably has fallen into physical disrepair over the last two chapters now feels "defensive" as peeta looks at her, frowning, and tries to push her hair out of her eyes somewhat. her relationship is SO different to the one she has with everyone else. and that's because it's really the only one where she's concerned with romance and her looks etc

peeta digging up and bringing her primrose. the boy with the bread is still here bringing gifts that can't have a price put on them. he is the sweetest most beautiful fictional boy

katniss is relieved that gale is in 2, far away. that era of her life is over, that friendship is over.

although she's still confusing right to end. why are you thinking about gale's lips kissing other lips. i think it's just like her finding closure but still.

katniss falling asleep on the sofa but waking up in her bed. we can guess who got her there

it's only after peeta comes back that katniss starts to hunt, find closure, grieve with others.

peeta bringing her a warm loaf of bread again.

them taking the family plant book and creating a new book to honour and remember the dead. her, peeta and haymitch creating their own makeshift family book. so tragic so beautiful

"peeta and i grow back together" - like it was inevitable.

But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.”

i love how simple and matter of fact this whole passage is. she doesn't need to go into flowery descriptions or explanations. she's already done that for three books.

i just love this whole passage so much. so much hope. so much love. after all that's happened, katniss learns to live again, to hope again, to love again, to see goodness again. and peeta is a key to her achieving that. and it's so beautiful

as an adult, i now know that this scene is alluding to their first time having sex. the mentions of his arms that build to his lips that build to her hunger from the beach that night. "so after" is after that night, that moment in their relationship where things become elevated in a new way.

him whispering that is not him asking her to declare it or say it. he's asking her to confirm what he feels, has felt. that she loves him. and she knows now her answer forever. real.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Shared Stock.

Pairing: Yandere!Cowboy!OC x Reader x Yandere!Farmer!OC.

Word Count: < 1.0k.

TW: Explicit Cowboy Self-Indulgence, Implied Non//con, Prolonged Imprisonment, and Gun Violence.

Mercy thinks Wren is too careful.

She says he treats you too much like a porcelain doll, not enough like the little spitfire she claims to know you are. She'll scoff when you tell her about his paranoia, roll her eyes when she sees you dressed in his aprons and flannel over-shirts, insist that you're tough enough to handle a few weeks on the open road - even if she never lets you out of her sight, much less far enough from her side to stray into any proper danger. She could spend hours admonishing the way Wren fusses over every scrape and scratch, but in all honesty, she's more selfish than trusting, willing to make-believe that you'd do better on horseback than tucked away in some ramshackle farmhouse if it means she gets to take you with her when she leaves town, on her way to some unnamed city on the edge of the world with only a herd of cattle and her crew. She doesn't think you'd stand a chance on your own, not in earnest, but she's far too possessive not to make your life as difficult as hers.

She's far too possessive in general, really. You know better than to say as much aloud (you can still remember the taste of her pistol against your tongue, still hear the sound of her voice as asked if you wanted to call her 'jealous' again), but there's a reason you're not allowed to talk to any of the other wranglers, that she always makes such a show out of splitting you open on her tongue behind the paper-thin scraps of material she calls a tent. One to spend every coin she earns and drain every bottle she comes across, Mercy's not the kind of woman who stand not to use what she has, and she does what she can to wear you down to the bone. Whether that means one of her fraying ropes is rubbing the skin of your wrists raw because 'you look like you've gotten it into your pretty little head to do somethin' stupid again' or you're sobbing you're eyes out because a man from her crew scowled at you the wrong way and, well, Mercy's always been faster to draw her gun than second-guess her own assumptions, she always finds a way to bleed you dry. She could afford to be a little more careful with you, all in all.

Wren thinks Mercy is too rough.

He's not as blatant about it as she is, but you see the way he frowns when she brings you back from a cattle drive covered in dust and cuts and bruise, and you know that, if Wren had his way, you'd spend all day baking apple pies and all night wrapped in handstitched quilts and never so much as cross paths with anything or anyone who might do you harm. There's no rope, when you're with him, no guns when you manage to forget about the shotgun he keeps in the shed behind the farmhouse - just locks on the doors and a few idle warnings that the townsfolk in these parts don't take kindly to troublemakers. When you try to tell him that he and his friends are the ones causing trouble for you, he just frowns and tells you to mind your tongue. You're something to keep safe and stowed away, to Wren, just like you're something to own and flaunt to Mercy. People don't tend to bother arguing with the precious gems they've already decided to hoard.

He doesn't bother talking to you much at all, as welcome as his silence usually is. That might be the worst thing about the farmhouse - how claustrophobic those wooden walls can feel before he comes home and drags you into a hour-long bath, just how suffocating the soundlessness can be and just how much worse it can get when you know you're relying on that monster of a man to break it. For everything you hate about Mercy, you're never bored when you're with her. You're never bored when you're with Wren, either, but Wren's not around very often. The fields have to be tended to, and Wren will barely let you hold a pairing knife, much less a spade. Wren doesn't give you as much to cry about as Mercy does, but sometimes, you almost wish he would. At least then, you'd have something to do.

You've tried to tell them that, if they both think the other's going to be the death of you, they could always let you go, set you free, drop you off on the outskirts of the nearest town with a sturdy pair of boots and enough cash to catch the next train to a more hospitable part of the country, but neither of them have ever taken kindly to your advice. That might be the only thing they have in common - how adamantly they refuse to let you wander farther than the horizon line, how ferociously they respond to any suggestion of a reality where you don't belong to one of them. That might be the only thing they agree on.

Neither of them likes the way the other treats you, but both Wren and Mercy know you wouldn't last a second on your own.

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [20]

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

Words: 10,185

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, some fluff, mentions of death, blood, canon violence, mention of drug addiction

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Can you guys believe book 2 is finally done?? We're finally done with season 3!! lol Book 3 will be the last book and I will have some stuff posted for that soon!! I have a few chapters done already lol There's a longer author's note at the end!! 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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Jason’s hands are on your cheeks with his lips pressed to yours. Your hands are gripping the ends of his jacket hoodie with all your might, tugging him as close to you as you possibly can as if the very force of your grip will keep him here forever. The teeth of the zippers dig into the palms of your hands and you can't offer a single thought as your mouth moves with Jason's and everything starts to turn sloppy and desperate.

Jason backs you up to the wall where he pins you against it. Teeth smack and clank as you both grip each other wherever your hands lead you as if everything in this moment will fix all of your broken pieces and tainted dreams. You give each other everything, every breath and movement and every piece of yourselves to each other. Jason cuts himself open and gives you everything in him, every part of him even the bad parts just makes you feel whole. He bleeds him dry without ever second guessing it just for you, just to make sure you are happy. And you pull the air out of your lungs and offer it to him in silver jars just to watch him smile. You give him the very oxygen you breathe as if it’ll save him from himself. You offer him the air you breathe in order to see him smile and know he is enough. You give each other everything you can as if this will be the last time you have this moment.

Jason wants to believe this is not the last time but he has never gotten to be so lucky. Not in this life or the previous one. His own certainty is that he will love you in every life after. You have ruined him for anyone who ever even dared to show up later because he is stained by you and he would never have it any other way. But, there is that piece of him that thinks this is it. This is all there will ever be. Something will happen and this will be it so he gives you his all as his mouth moves with yours and his right hand grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

Time happens. You know time doesn’t stop anyway. Days go by and then weeks, then months, and then years. Something always comes up and it’ll always be a tomorrow problem and then another tomorrow and another until the tomorrows are neverending. This might be it because you both have a habit of getting lost in time and there is never enough of it. Time will go by and maybe this will be it for you. So, you give him every part of you as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck.

Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your cheek and tenderly makes his way down your neck only to be met with the sturdy armor of your suit. Jason huffs against what skin is exposed before he moves back to your cheek, only for you to laugh softly.

“Safety first.” You mutter through breathy words.

Jason snorts as his head feels fuzzy. "Fuck off." He mutters right as both of his hands squeeze your hips as if they're the only thing keeping him planted on the planet.

Jason slides a hand to your back, trailing over the zipper, ready to tug it down just as your phone starts ringing. The two of you pull away, breaking for some air that isn't tangled between the two of you only to let out groans.

"Cockblock." Jason states as you tug your phone from your suit.

You let out a chortle, not looking up at Jason as your cheeks start to burn. "Who says you were getting that lucky?"

Jason narrows his eyes at you before he raises his brows. "Hey, a guy can hope." Jason states with sarcasm as you look up at him with softness clouding your eyes.

"Fucking cockblock." You roll your eyes earning a laugh from Jason. "Least that was fun." You nod your head as your smile turns into something sad and soft.

You answer the phone before Jason can respond. Dick mostly just explains the sort of plan they have for the moment. They aren't sure what they're going to do about the people in the streets but if Jason and Dick and Donna can be brought back, he wants to find a way to bring all of them back, too. But for now, Dick explains he's going to send you and Jason into the manor together to start taking out of the cops working with Crane in order to give Gar access to the alarm system. Once it's disabled, they'll take back the manor and take down Crane. You and Jason both think it sounds easy enough but sounding easy lately, doesn't mean it will be. But, you both have faith in it. It'll be the closest you've come to taking down Crane anyway. So, you set up a time and end the call.

After the call, you and Jason stand facing each other as you both continue to catch your breath. With the call, the weight and gravity of the situation fall back onto your shoulders. Avoiding it isn't going to make the weight any better. You both need to learn how to remove the bricks one by one. The adrenaline starts to dissipate between you as you smile softly at him and Jason's cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. Maybe that feels a little unfinished but...maybe that gives you both the opportunity to come back even if it's just one last time for old-time's sake and for now, you're okay with that.

"Well," Jason sucks in a breath finally pulling his hands away from her hips. "Wanna try and get some sleep for a few hours?" Jason offers.

"Yeah, I'm fucking exhausted. I, uh, I don't remember the last time I really...slept, actually." You let out a sheepish laugh.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed on the opposite side of the room. "I'll set an alarm." Jason smiles softly at you.

The two of you get into the bed just as you always have. You still say you'll never make him sleep on the floor and it's not like this is something new, even as friends. It doesn't matter. And Jason is happy with this. He's hoping maybe he'll actually get some much-needed sleep anyway. You always made him feel a little more at ease anyway. So, you lay down, your head on his chest and you try to get some sleep before you need to be at the manor.

By the time the next morning rolls around, you and Jason have gotten some sleep. It wasn't good sleep or very much. Some of it was just being a little worried for what today would bring and if Crane planned on setting off another bomb to kill more people. Some of it was worry for the other Titans. And then some of it was just stress. But, you both did get some sleep and Jason's alarm woke up you with a jolt.

A heaviness fills the air between you, knowing this will be it. This is your shot to take out Crane. This is your shot to take back the city. If this plan doesn't work, Crane will expect everyone always and you'll lose. You can't afford to lose today. But, this is what being a vigilante is about. It's risking everything for the greater good. So, the two of you get ready and head outside to Jason's bike.

Jason hands you the extra helmet before he mounts himself on the bike. You're chewing the inside of your cheek, your grip tight on the helmet. Jason can feel it, too. He doesn't want you anywhere near Crane. He could have killed you the last time you were face-to-face. He tried to kill you and that alone nearly sends Jason into a rage. Jason wouldn't put it past Crane to try again or try to get Jason to do it or make Jason watch. You can't die. He doesn't want you to get hurt at all, you've been hurt enough by Crane. It's not up to Jason though. This will never be up to him.

"You sure about this?" Jason asks you, mostly just checking in.

You nod your head softly. "Uh, yeah. Just..." You suck in a breath. "Fucking Crane, ya know?" You shake your head, looking to the ground as you lick your lips. "Ready for this shit to be over." You scoff as you loos back to him.

"You gonna kill him?" Jason asks.

"Did you want to?" You ask right back.

"He almost killed you so..." Jason tilts his head to the side, his voice almost telling you you should have known the answer.

"Dick's never gonna let us." You laugh softly before you pop the helmet on your head.

"He's not gonna stay in Gotham forever."  Jason quips as he puts the Red Hood helmet on, making you laugh.

"Yeah, that's true." You take your seat right behind Jason. "Guess we'll just wait until the Titans leave then." You say sarcastically as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"Let's get this going then." Jason says before he revs the bike.

The drive to the manor is quiet, a lot quieter than any ride with you and Jason ever is. On most days, you’re talking through your comms, usually making some sort of inside joke and making some sarcastic jab at each other but today is not that. This is the first time you’re back in the manor together since Jason died. It will not feel normal. It will not feel safe and it won’t be safe. Crane and all of his men are there and this is not how it should be. This is not how you ever imagined it to be.

He was alive and you thought it would be warm and a relief to have him back home. Back at the manor. But, instead, it just feels like dread that’s consuming you because he didn't come with you. He isn't coming home with you. You're only going home together to beat Crane and that stings more than you'll ever tell him. But you have to do this. There is no choice. You are out of options when it comes to Crane. The National Guard has been sent in and Gotham City is under lockdown. Crane wants to take out every person in the city. If you don’t do it now, there may not be a Gotham tomorrow. It’s for the better of the city.

There is also the thought that this is the end between you. You’ll take out Crane today and then…that’ll be it. You’ll go your separate ways for a little bit because that’s what's for the best for both of you. But that doesn’t make the pill any easier to swallow.

As for Jason, he’s focused on the mission at hand. He wants to get in and get the hell out. That’s all this is. For the better of the city. But, he’s also trapped in his own head because he did trust Crane so there is some distant part of him that feels bad about it. It’s the right thing to do and he knows Crane doesn’t deserve sympathy for everything he’s done but something about it feels hard and Jason hates that feeling.

And he’s worried about what will happen when Bruce comes back. Eventually, Bruce will know Jason is alive. Once he finds out, he’ll know about Red Hood. Before, that was fine. It was spite. A fuck you to Bruce and the Bat and everything he stood for. But, Bruce killed the Joker for him. Bruce threw away all of his morals for him. That changes things. Jason is firm in his beliefs and what he wants to do after all of this. Nothing is going to change his mind but there is a part of him that is tired of letting everyone around him down. Bruce is the closest thing to family he’s had since his mom died. He never wants someone else to end up like him, go through the hell he’s been through, but he doesn’t want to give up on this either. Not if Bruce really did that. For him.

Then, there’s that thought of being alone. It’s for the best. It’s for the best for him and you. But, he remembers what it was like returning to Gotham without you while you were a Titan. How it felt like the longest month of his life and you weren’t even together yet. But, you were different people then. You aren’t the same stupid kids who were so infatuated with each other, you could hardly breathe. You are more calloused and damaged and bruised and broken. It’s for the best as you learn to live with your new scars. As you come into yourselves as individual people. It’s going to be hard but it’s for the best. Jason swears it’s for the best and the lump in his throat starts to close off his throat.

“How we doing this, Jay?” You ask once you dismount the bike on the outskirts of the property.

Jason takes off his own helmet. “We’re not going to get in with you just walking with me.” Jason starts, gesturing for you to give him your helmet. “Pretend to hold you prisoner, a peace offering to the psycho.” Jason puts both helmets on the handles, trying his best to be casual about it.

Jason knows that’s a big ask given your history. But, he’s not going to tie you up for real and he’s not going to let anyone else do it. You'll never even see Crane until everyone else gets into the Manor. He knows it's not something you'll take lightly. He just doesn't know any other way. It's not like he can sneak you in, that's why Gar needs to enter as a bat in the first place. Turning you into Crane gets you both in but if you aren't comfortable, Jason knows you'll have to figure something else out. This is just the best, easiest, and quickest way.

You nod your head once. “Right, yeah, okay.” You pull in a weary breath.

The idea of even pretending to be restrained makes you want to peel your skin off your bones. You swore never again. You would die trying to get out of it ever happened because it simply can't. If you get restrained again, what happens if you never get to be free? What if something worse happens? It's why you don't like to use your powers. But, this is Jason and even after everything, you have enough trust in him to know he's going to make sure you can free yourself. It makes you nervous and it scares the hell out of you but you also know there isn't another way. You put your trust in him.

“Is that alright?” Jason asks, seeing the hesitance in your face.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s our way in.”

Jason nods, his eyes darting over you quickly. "Let's get going then." Jason jerks his head in the direction of the manor.

"Think they'll really buy that?" You question as the two of you start your walk to the manor.

"Guess you'll have to channel your inner thespian." Jason offers you a cheeky grin, trying desperately to ease some of your anxiety.

"That's your job, theater boy." You roll your eyes as you laugh softly.

"Oh, well, we know I've got that covered." Jason chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You always said I was fucking dramatic." Jason lets out a light-hearted scoff, looking over to you.

"You are." You let out a laugh. "Most dramatic person I ever met." You scrunch your nose as you look back him.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs but the smile beams back at you.

The two of you keep up a steady walking pace through the grounds of the manor. Crane doesn't seem to have anyone watching this far out. Chaos is ensuing in the city which means Crane's eyes are probably there and not on the cameras for the grounds. So, your walk is overall pretty peaceful given your circumstances, something the both of you are thankful for.

Once the two of you start to get closer to the front of the manor, you stop behind a few of the trees to scope out the front. There are two guards standing right out front, fully armed and in riot gear. They don't seem to be paying too much attention but the front of the manor is open so you'll be seen immediately. That's the plan anyway, get in without any disturbance and take them all out at once just to get inside. If you make a scene out here, Crane could lockdown the manor before you ever get a chance inside.

"Okay, I'll just hold your hands behind your back. You act like you want to kill me and we're golden." Jason offers you a cocky smirk.

You nod your head with the roll of your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the drill, thanks." You laugh softly but there's something off about it.

The lack of quip and how the laugh sounds hollow. The smile falls almost immediately as you look at his hands. You bite it back and clear your throat, standing in front of Jason with your hands behind your back. Jason's gloved hands hold your wrists soft enough you could barely move and slip right from his grip. He's mindful, keeping his grip above where the scars hit even though they're covered by your suit.

You can feel his grip still and it's like you're being suffocated. The scars on your wrists start to burn, resembling the burn of you tugging and pulling on the cuffs, desperate to get out. You can feel the skin cracking out in a burn and then a deep welt before it's covered in blood. It burns and it aches and it stings. Your stomach twists and turns with nausea. It's the right thing to do because it'll get you in there. You can help and not being able to do this makes you feel weak and useless. But, it's as if you're frozen in place.

"Are you sure?" Jason asks quietly from behind you. "We can try to just tell them I convinced you to switch with Nightwing being dead."

You look over your shoulder, meeting the concerned look written across Jason's features. They'd never believe Jason could get you to switch sides. It would out you and Jason immediately and the whole thing would go to shit. It's for the greater good of Gotham and you trust him.

"Yeah," You nod your head. "Just hope it works." You pull in a breath as you turn back around.

"If not," Jason pauses for just a second. "We'll go down swinging anyway." He says it casually and you can't tell if it's supposed to be reassuring, a joke, or an acceptance of your possible fate.

"Always thought that'd be our way out." You let out a scoff that's ended with a half laugh. "Let's just go before we're late."

The two of you come out from the trees and start your walk towards the driveway. It only takes a few seconds for you to be spotted. The guards point the gun directly at you and it burns Jason's bloodstream knowing they're mostly pointed at you. If one of them even slips or gets a little too trigger-happy, Jason will lose his entire mind. He doesn't exactly trust them. But, he bites it down because if he starts worrying and getting annoyed, you will do the same.

"Found her snooping around the trees." Jason states once the two of you get closer to the front steps, one of the cops meeting you on the driveway.

"Get fucked." You scoff.

"And you're turning her in?" The guard questions, not buying it.

"Told Crane, I'm all in for his plan. Just here to prove it." Jason says casually, hiding every piece of annoyance and anger he has towards this whole thing.

"And you let him capture you?" The guard narrows his eyes at you.

"Fuck you you fucking piece of shit." You bark back. "No, I didn't let him that would be fucking stupid."

"Where are your friends?" He questions.

Your annoyance is not fake. You hate this guy already and the questioning is ridiculous. Why would you tell him anything and why would Jason tell him if he switched sides?

"I'm not a fucking rat unlike Red Hood here." You narrow your eyes back at him. "They're gonna stop him though." You threaten. "The Titans will win."

The cop gives you a sinister laugh, a way to tell you the Titans don't stand a chance. You swear arrogance has only ever worked on Jason. Arrogance on everyone else seems to make them stupid you think.

"Come on." The cop scoffs, leading the two of you through the front door as the other cop joins you.

Jason's grip is loose against your wrists as the cop walks you inside. The cop trails behind you, keeping the gun on Jason, clearly not trusting him. Jason gets the idea Crane knows he's done. That's fine, really. You're inside and with every step, Jason is thinking of a way out of this if it goes south. He should be able to hear the movement of the gun being held tighter before a trigger is pulled. The fabric of his jacket will move and he can shoot first. Your clairvoyance should go off and you'll have a knife out in the same breath. If this guy takes it into his own hands, it'll get messy quick but you'll have a way out. Jason focuses on a backup plan as you're nudged into the kitchen.

"You're not gonna believe who we caught outside trying to get in." The cop states as he leads you into the kitchen where three other cops in riot gear are gathered.

"What in the actual fuck are you trying to pull here?" One of them asks, his eyes directly on Jason. "Crane is done with you."

"I saw what he did downtown. Let's just say I'd rather be in here when the next bomb goes off." Jason states. "Found her when I showed up and thought I'd show my loyalty to Crane by bringing her in."

"What the fuck makes you think he'll take you back?" The guard asks. "Even with her."

"Pretty sure he's getting tired of dealing with the second string." Jason scoffs.

"Dr. Crane?" The guard states after touching his own comm device in his ear. "Red Hood is here." He says after a few seconds. "And he brought Bluejay, says he captured her for you." He pauses for a few seconds. "Thank you, Doctor." He touches his earpiece again before turning to the guy behind him. "Take them down. I'm gonna go outside and see if we have any other visitors here." The cop says before he rams his shoulder into yours to walk past you and Jason, making Jason's grip tighten on your wrists as an instinct.

One of the cops walks behind the two of you and shoves Jason and in turn, shoves you, too. The two of you nearly trip over each other as you move closer to the middle of the kitchen, standing between the islands while the four cops surround you. There's a feeling creeping into the back of your head, spreading through to the front. It's not quite throbbing like it usually does but there's a subtle alarm going off. It feels more like just a gut feeling something isn't right in this kitchen and based on the second squeeze you get from Jason on your wrist, he knows it, too. All you have to do is wait for Gar to trigger the manor's alarm system.

Just then, as if it be on cue, the alarm starts blaring from above you. Everyone looks up and that's the cue for Jason and you to get this thing going. Jason drops your hands and in an instant, Jason takes his elbow, ramming into the face of the cop behind him while you spin around, throwing a kick at the one behind you.

The cop Jason is fighting immediately starts firing while Jason grabs his arms, spinning him around so the gunfire stays away from you. He yanks the gun away as he tosses the cop over the counter all while you fight the first cop, elbowing him unconscious before throwing a knife at the one about to shoot you. Jason keeps his gun aimed at the last man before hitting him with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious.

Jason and you exchange a look with heavy breaths once they're all either down or dead. There's a glint of a smile coming over Jason's face as he shrugs.

"Don't gloat." You state, Jason seeing the smile come to your eyes.

"I wasn't saying shit." Jason defends but there's almost a laugh that leaves his lips.

"Mhm, something about how you trained me well or something." Your eyes narrow but there's something soft over your expression.

"I did." Jason holds his head with pride before he lets out a breath. He misses patrolling with you, fighting side by side. He thinks he'll always miss it. "Come on. We gotta get to Gar before they find him."

The two of you quickly make your way through the kitchen and to the main staircase, leading to bedrooms. You follow behind Jason with two knives in hand, keeping an eye over your shoulders while Jason watches around the corners you reach. As you round another corner and keep up your steady pace, Gar pops out from the corner from the hall that continues to your bedrooms. Gar immediately takes a step back, fear falling over his face.

"Hey, Dick sent us, okay? I'm on your side." Jason rushes quickly.

"I told you, he's with us." You urge not liking the fear over his face or the way his arm is almost in position to fight.

You don't blame him and neither does Jason. He just got Dick killed the other night. This is an entirely fair reaction for him to have regardless on if Jason was trying to help or not. And then Gar's eyes widen just as the back of your head starts throbbing.

Jason and you turn at the same time, Jason firing two shots while you throw a knife. Both of you hit the one cop, sending him to the ground instantly. You and Jason look right at each other and just nod before you turn back to Gar.

"See?" Jason questions.

Gar isn't sure just how relieved he is but he is thankful. "Thanks." Gar nods, his voice still a little unsure.

"Set up the router." Jason states.

"We'll watch the hall." You finish as the two of you stand on either side of the hall, opposite each behind two of the large pillars.

Gar ducks behind the corner and starts communicating with Dick about Jason and you being there before he starts working. But, it's only a few seconds before two of the cops show up, jogging through the hall but they're met by Jason and you as you duck from behind your pillars. Jason takes one while you take the other, the two of you using your fists and elbows for nonlethal force, successfully knocking out the cops before you go back to your spots. Jason flashes you a smirk while you roll your eyes.

The two of you wait as Gar takes down the system while Dick is on his way inside. You look over to Jason, his back pressed against the pillar with his gun that he stole from one of the cops downstairs held against his chest. You think about how you're going to miss this part of it. Dick said you work well together, it's why he wanted you to team up for this. Part of it. And you do. You never have to speak to know exactly what the other one is going to do. You think that probably isn't too common and you're going to miss it. You'll miss him, even if it's only a week you don't talk.

It's only a few minutes before Gar finishes up and meets you and Jason in the hall. He looks more relieved now as the three of you stand in the hall and it almost feels like it once did.

"So, you're really with us?" Gar asks.

Jason nods. "Yeah, I'm done with this shit." Jason lets out an easy scoff. "Sorry for everything, man."

"It's okay. You were drugged and manipulated." Gar offers his understanding. "Thanks for the help." Gar nods before he looks to you. "Thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it." You smile under your mask as you scrunch your nose until you hear fighting and gunfire from downstairs.

The three of you exchange panicked looks before you run down the hall and towards the staircase. You and Jason take one way while Gar takes the other so you have both entrances covered to the main living room, hearing that's where the gunfire is coming from. The three of you reach your entrances just in time to see Dick throw one of his weapons, hitting the barrel of the gun pointed at him which makes it backfire, killing the cop holding it. You, Jason, and Gar enter fully into the room, slightly concerned by the whole interaction and the amount of bodies littered over the floor but not even willing to question it. It was Dick's life or that cop's and he wasn't going to let Dick walk out of here alive.

Dick walks up to the camera and grins wickedly before he salutes it. Bringing Crane down is definitely bringing Dick a lot of joy. It's bringing a lot of the Titans a lot of joy to bring him down.

Dick starts a quick pace to the entrance to the Batcave. "Let's go." He says, looking towards Jason and you.

"No." Jason says quickly, making Gar and Dick stop their walk to the entrance while you look to Jason with confusion. Dick nods his head at Gar for him to keep going before he closes some of the distance between him and Jason. "Look, this is a Titan's job. He knows I turned on him and that's enough for me. You guys finish it."

Something about the way he says it, as a form of acceptance warms your heart. Jason Todd doesn't hold very many grudges. He is not a mean person and he is not a monster. He should walk into that Batcave and rip Crane's head right off of his shoulders for everything he's done but he doesn't. Jason recognizes he was part of this problem. Drug or not, it does not matter. This was his doing and the Titans deserve the right to take him down. Crane knowing Jason turned on him and Jason being allowed to help the Titans, that's enough revenge for him now. He knows you'll give him hell anyway, it's your hell to bring him if you want it that bad.

"You sure?" Dick asks, somewhere between surprised and understanding.

"And tell the others I'm sorry." Jason shakes his head. "For everything." His voice is soft and honest.

"Thank you, Jason." Dick states with a nod of his head.

Dick Grayson can hold a grudge. Sometimes, he can be bitter and angry, understandably so. He can hold a grudge and maybe he should sometimes. But, Dick Grayson is not a mean person. He is not unreasonable. He is understanding and he cares about the people he loves and protects. It was his job to protect Jason at some point and he failed. Maybe some of this is on him and he died. That was a missing piece he really needed to understand how they even got here. He can hold a grudge but one against Jason is not one he's willing to have. He is thankful and hopes once this is over, they can both move on from whatever bitter rivalry boiled between them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jason starts as he starts to move away from Dick and towards the exit. "I was never here." He finishes before he leaves the room, you looking back at him before looking to Dick.

"Go." Dick states. "Something tells me you'll find Crane your own way, anyway." Dick doesn't sound pleased but he almost, just almost, looks content.

You nod softly. "Tell him I'm coming for him." You state the smile reaching your eyes just as you hear rapid footsteps coming into the room. Your mouth falls open from behind your mask as your eyes widen and turn watery. "Tim!?"

"Hey!" Tim chimes with excitement.

"I thought you were dead!" You rush over to him and pull him into a hug.

"Oh, yeah, I kind of died." Tim answers. "I don't know. It was weird, Donna was there." Tim's voice is filled with excitement at the mention of Donna, something most people would probably find off-putting. But, not you, that's just Tim.

You pull away, looking between Tim and Dick before you just roll your eyes. "I...okay." You shake your head, deciding to ask more questions later. "I'm gonna go. Fill me in later though, very happy you're alive." You smile before you turn on your feet.

"I knew you were Bluejay." Tim chuckles with confidence.

You turn around and deadpan but Tim holds his confident smile. "Shut up." You let out an exasperated sigh before you turn around and follow where Jason left.

Jason has done everything he can do. Crane might have caused him pain but at the end of the day, it was Jason's trust in him that allowed Crane to cause everyone else so much pain and agony around him. Crane got control of the city because Jason trusted him. Bringing down Crane, that was never supposed to be Jason's job. That should be on the Titans, Jason knows he's just lucky to be walking away from it not only alive, but free.

He walks out of the manor and for the first time, he feels free. He is not obligated to come back. He's not obligated to offer anyone anything anymore. There is no obligation to be a hero or a villain. There is no obligation to be back by a certain time or an obligation to put food on a table. He is no longer obligated to take care of anyone or look out for anyone but himself. For the first time, Jason Todd is free to be whoever the fuck he wants to be without anyone else's opinion or input. That part is a bit terrifying but there is something cathartic about it as the cold Gotham air hits his cheeks. There is guilt and remorse and a heaviness he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to shake. There's the haunting ache in his bones but...he is free to live how he wants for the first time and that, is cathartic.

"Jay!" You call after him, stepping out of the manor.

Jason turns around, brows pulled together. "What're you doing? Thought you'd be in there with them to take down Crane."

"Dick's not gonna let me kill him." You let out a chortle. "And...Tim showed up anyway. It is Crane's fault he died." You nod.

"He died?" Jason questions loudly, his eyes shooting open.

He knew it was bad that night but he didn't realize Tim had died either. He was kind of with you, hoping he lived. It was easier to just hope it would work out. But of course, Crane just had to take out someone innocent. Jason hopes Tim is in the Batcave right now giving Crane absolute hell.

"Yeah," You say quietly. "Um, he seemed okay for the few seconds I saw him. Seemed happy to be here." You laugh softly, looking to your feet before looking back to Jason. "I, um," Your brows pull together as you suck in a breath. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, yeah, all good." Jason nods his head, earning an eyebrow raise from you. You could always see through him like he were cellophane. "I'm not Robin anymore." Jason confesses, looking around the manor before his eyes come back to you.

"You're not." You nod your head, almost dreading where this is going.

He never needed Robin. He could be just as great as Red Hood or as someone else or just Jason Todd. You aren't sure that's where this is going but you do know what Robin meant to him. You can only hope he will see his worth one day and he'll be able to move on from it with fondness.

"Bruce isn't here." Jason lets out a sigh.

"Nope." You shake your head once, now wondering where Jason could be going with this.

"I can be...whoever I want." Jason swallows thickly before looking to the ground.

You pull your mask off, closing some of the distance between you as a tender smile comes over your lips. "You deserve it, Jay."

Jason could always be whoever he wanted but he always felt like he needed permission. People always expected him to be something specific. If he didn't meet what they wanted, he thought they'd leave. Maybe if he could be what they expected, he wouldn't be too much or too little. He could be just enough and there would be no transaction in being loved. But, it never did work out that way. It led him here.

He isn't sure he deserves to be who he wants but he does want to try. He wants to try and be whoever he can be. Maybe that's worse but at least he'll be him. He will no longer be a torn painting of something everything thought he was. He will no longer put on a facade to be enough. That's easier said than done but he thinks maybe, just maybe, he can do it in time. He'll destroy every part of himself that has been damaged by broken expectations and be the person he actually wants to be. There will be a home for all of his pieces one day.

"Thanks." Jason nods his head. "So do you, ya know."

"Yeah," You scoff softly.

You aren't so sure you do after everything that's happened. On the one hand, you remained on Jason's side but...you did betray him in a way you aren't so sure you can forgive. On the other hand, you owed some more loyalty to the Titans than you did give them. A part of you thought you would turn on them if it came to it and that is not the person you want to be. But, you aren't sure you're deserving of better anymore. It's a lot to be forgiven for and a lot to forgive yourself for. And you just look at Jason who looks like he might have a little more hope left somewhere in his cracked ribs so maybe you can spare some, too.

"Where ya gonna go then?" You ask with a tender voice, as if stalling so you don't have to say goodbye.

"Safehouse." Jason answers. "One I've been staying at." He explains further. "You?"

"Probably call Molly, she'll be pissed." You laugh softly. "I, uh, I've avoided her, ya know? Just to keep her at a distance after Tim, ya know? But, she'll probably let stay."

Jason's relieved you'll have a place to stay. The whole space thing is the point, but if it came to it, he'd never let you live on the streets again. He has more than one statehouse. Molly would never tell you no though. And he hopes you will be a little more careful living with Molly. You wouldn't want to put Molly in danger and have Molly constantly see you with some sort of injury.

"What's next then?" Jason asks as he takes a single step forward, knowing you can only stall for so long.

"Keep this up, I guess." You laugh softly. "I don't know. Come up with a plan. You?"

"Yeah." Jason chuckles softly. "Think I'm gonna keep doing this, work from the top and try to control it. Don't know how much Bruce is gonna like it." A devilish grin puls at Jason's lips.

"He'll probably just be happy to have you alive." You answer honestly.

"Yeah..." Jason's voice goes quiet, not convinced. "You should, uh, you should go back in there though." Jason swallows a lump forming in his throat.

The air feels heavy and thick, stale and bitter. It's like it doesn't want to flow into your lungs with the request. Stalling is just making it harder, you can see it in the way his eyes reflect and the very hint of the tip of his nose turning red. It's not from the cold.

"This is really it, huh?" Your voice quivers with the question.

Jason nods sadly. "Yeah..." His voice is quiet and filled with guilt. Jason almost backtracks but that's not the right thing to do. So, instead, he stays honest. "Gonna miss you."

"Gonna miss you, too." You say quietly. "Just, uh, we'll be in the same city so we just...meet again later." You nod softly, almost trying to convince yourself more than Jason.

Jason nods back quickly. "Yeah, exactly. And we have Molly anyway, she'll never keep us apart." Jason laughs softly.

"You're right." You laugh back. "Be careful, Jay." You close more of the distance between you, offering your hand to him.

It is bitter. It is hard and it is sad. You both might convince yourselves it's for the best but that doesn't make this any less painful. You trust each other more than anyone in the world and you have given each other every piece of yourselves. To see the other one go in another direction feels like you're losing a piece of your own hearts. But this is something you have to do, for yourselves and each other.

"Do you want to leave this on a handshake?" Jason quips back, not wanting to leave this so sad. That was never you anyway.

"No." You laugh as you look down to your open hand before you drop it.

Leaving it on a handshake feels permanent and that is not what either of you want. Maybe time will pass and it'll be hard to come together. But maybe in that time, you'll eventually find yourselves clawing your way back to each other. You both are so positive your hearts will only ever beat for each other as if they are beacons home. You both swear this cannot be the end of you so a handshake won't work.

Jason closes the rest of the distance between you, his hands coming up to your cheeks before his lips press against yours. It's different than it was at the safehouse. It's not heated or desperate. It's not as if you both are chasing something you'll never catch up to. It is tender and soft, deep and passionate. Your hands go to his sides while Jason's thumbs rub over your cheeks. You both take the time to just savor this for all that is worth. It has to be worth something. It just has to.

Jason pulls away first, his forehead coming to yours and he doesn't dare to open his eyes, knowing the second he does, he has to leave. Jason will have to walk away from the one person who showed what unconditional love really is. He'll have to walk away so he savors it for all that he can. You sniffle against him, keeping your eyes closed and Jason knows it's time.

He pulls away just enough, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his hands trail down your neck, to your arms, and then to your hips. Before he can say another word, you pull him for a hug and his arms entirely engulf you. You think you'll never feel this warm again but you hope he'll be happy. You only hope he'll be okay. Jason Todd deserves to be happy no matter what the cost. You press a kiss to his cheek and it's you that pulls away first because you think if Jason does it, he'll always question if it were the right decision. You do it so he doesn't have to.

His eyes are red and watery but there's a firmness, a certainty, over his features. And then he nods.

"I love you." Jason says it first this time and it nearly sends you into a fit of broken sobs.

"I love you, too." You back away from him and think you might get hypothermia in seconds. "See you later, yeah?" You ask.

"'Course, can't get rid of me that easy, babe." Jason tries to lighten it but he's missing the same snark he should have. You offer a soft smile before Jason turns to walk away, only to turn around again. "Keep the necklace, by the way." Jason forces one of his cheeky smirks onto his lips. "Still always come to find you if you need me to." The smirk falls into something sweet and soft.

"You can always come find me." You nod back but this time, you manage a smile. "You and me." You shrug softly.

"You and me." Jason offers you one reassuring nod as his heart feels like it's just fallen out of his ribcage and then he turns around and makes his way down the driveway.

The next two days leave everyone starting to clean up the mess that was left in the wake of Crane's reign of Gotham. The Titans and you have taken over the manor again, getting everything clean and back to how it was before Crane took over. Jason has been at his safehouse, getting everything he needs to make it feel more like a home rather than a rundown and empty building. But after two days, the Titans are ready to leave which leaves Dick to say goodbye to Bruce. That's when Jason walks in, figuring it's his turn to have a conversation with him now that he's finally back.

Jason finds himself going back to his old room while Dick and Bruce finish up their talk. The hubcaps he stole from the Batmobile lay on his old dresser and he finds himself thinking about it. That night. He remembers the day Bruce told him about Robin and offered him the position if he were willing to train for it. It was hard and it sucked but the day Bruce gave him that suit, Jason swore it was the greatest day of his life. He remembers how happy he was as if he had finally found his purpose in this world. Not one single part of him thought he would be here today. He never thought he would have died and betrayed the people he loved. He never thought things would get here with Bruce. It was so happy and fulfilling and now it's...tarnished. Broken and shattered. He wonders what his old self would think of him now.

Bruce walks in a few minutes later, gaining Jason's attention.

"Coming here wasn't my idea." Jason immediately defends himself as he turns around to face Bruce, hoping Bruce believes him.

There's a long pause as Bruce puts his hands in his pockets. "Can you forgive me?" Bruce asks.

It is agonizing with Bruce asking. It's something Jason didn't expect, not from Bruce. A part of him, wants to ask for what? Jason can see some of the wrong Bruce did that did not help him. Some of those things did contribute to him dying and working with Crane. But, the way Jason sees it, Bruce isn't the one who needs forgiving.

Jason leans against the dressing, stuffing his own hands in his pocket before he nods softly. "But you can't forgive me." Jason shakes his head.

Bruce shakes his head back, looking to the ground. "There was a time when that would have been true, Jason, but..." Bruce shakes his head as he pauses before he looks back to Jason. "We've all grown and crossed lines, starting with me."

Bruce crossed the one line he swore he would never cross and Jason crossed it, too. He does not want to lose his son over this whole thing. Bruce knows he has a lot to make up for, thinking maybe he should have listened to what Dick was trying to explain to him since leaving. It has to start somewhere and Bruce is willing to start here. He forgives Jason for everything, no question or doubt in his mind.

"I did things I can't come back from." Jason shakes his head.

Jason knows Bruce's line. Bruce killed the fucking Joker which basically every single person in Gotham agrees was the right decision. Jason did not kill the Joker. It's different. Jason turned on Dick, Bruce's other son. This whole thing is different than what Bruce did. Jason can't erase any of it no matter how badly he wants to. The drug and the killing of his friend, the betrayal and injuries he's caused are things he can't come back from. He did horrible and unforgivable things. He can't go back and change it. He needs to just find a way to live with them now.

"Did you want to come back?" Bruce asks.

Jason looks around his room before pushing off of the dresser. "Here?" He questions as he closes some of the distance between him and Bruce, leaving a few feet between them. "No." Jason's voice is honest and soft. Jason looks to the ground. "That life is over." He says before looking back to Bruce.

Bruce lets out a sigh of understanding. "What life is next?"

"I don't know." Jason answers honestly.

"The fear that you felt, I refused to see it because it's something that you and I share." Bruce explains quietly as he gestures softly between the two of them. "It held its weight over us. But fear is a bad mentor. I wish I had had the strength to help you face yours." Bruce is quiet but honest and this is the deepest conversation they've ever had.

Jason has held resentment for Bruce but...this conversation is changing that, it's just making him feel more guilty over it. Bruce doesn't admit that he's wrong often. Part of that is Bruce is very rarely ever wrong anyway but even then, it's hard for him to admit fault. It means a lot to Jason that Bruce is taking some of the accountability for it even if Jason doesn't blame him. Dick and you were right, Bruce actually does care.

Jason looks to the ground. "When you killed the Joker, did you do that for me?" Jason asks as he looks back to Bruce.

Bruce pauses for a few seconds before he nods his head. "Yes." He answers simply. "I did."

It's all Jason needed to hear. He doesn't know what this means for them but...he'll never be able to express what it means to him for Bruce to have actually done that. For him. Before coming here, he wasn't sure what he wanted from the conversation or what to expect but it wasn't this. It's better. Jason has confirmation that he is important to Bruce, not as Robin but as Jason Todd.

"Thank you." Jason states, his words firm but tender before he walks past Bruce and leaves the room, leaving the manor.

You and the rest of the Titans are at the hangar, waiting for Dick. You might not be going with, but you're here to say goodbye and Tim is here. Tim has since told you about the whole bridge dream thing where he met Donna and Hank. Hank sacrificed himself so him and Donna could come back. It all sounded completely insane but you aren't going to argue with Tim over that. You're just happy to have them both back and alive.

"He said ten o'clock. He did say ten o'clock, right?" Kory asks, pacing near Conner.

"He said ten." Conner confirms, holding the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

"He'll get here...eventually." Rachel laughs softly. "He always does." Rachel finishes just as they all hear honking and turn to see an RV pulling into the lane.

"Hey, did someone order a bus?" Gar questions.

The bus pulls right open to the opening of the hangar where Dick and Donna are seated in their seats. You stifle a laugh and right about now, you're pretty glad you're not going with them. Sitting in an RV with the Titans for over three days with no way to escape, does not sound fun. Though, you think they'll have a great time.

Donna and Dick get out of the bus, Dick looking very pleased with himself as he faces the rest of the Titans.

"Hey, Dick, uh, what is that?" Rachel questions as her arms are crossed over her chest.

"That's an RV." Dick states, pointing a finger back at the door with genuine happiness in his voice. "I figured it would be way more fun than taking Bruce's jet."

Everyone turns to look at the joy that could have been. You finally break, letting out a quick laugh as you shake your head. You can confirm the jet is way more fun and it's faster. But you aren't going to tell Kory that.

"Why would that be more fun?" Kory asks as if she's going to pass out.

"Roadtrip!" Gar says quickly before he turns to you. "I'm gonna..." Gar points to the RV with a large smile.

"Have fun." You laugh softly before you hug quickly. "Lemme know how Metropolis is! And fill be in on all things Superman, he's actually cool." You beam as Gar laughs and promises to let you know everything before he darts over to the RV and rushes right inside.

"Right because who would want to fly in the batjet?" Rachel quips as she makes her way to the RV.

"Exactly." Dick states, picking up some of the bags to load them up.

You stand back, watching Rachel and Gar go onto the bus. Donna and Tim are saying their goodbyes to Conner just as Blackfire drives up to the hangar, leaving Kory to say her goodbye. Dick starts loading bags into the storage compartments of the RV so you pick up one Gar left behind and bring it over.

"Not mine." You state quickly as Dick takes it from you.

"Are you sure want to stay here? Plenty of room." Dick offers kindly.

You look to the giant RV and then back to Dick. "Yeah...I think all of Gotham can see that." You quip back before letting out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure." You nod with confidence, sure of your decision. "Thanks, though."

"Jason?" Dick asks, mostly just to check this isn't about him though this time if it were, he'd entirely understand.

You shake your head. "No. We, uh, we are not speaking. We are giving each other space after everything that's happened." You answer simply. "It's home, like I said. And now I have Molly who will not shut up about me needing eyes in the sky like a Ned Leeds or Ganke." You mutter earning a questionable look from Dick. "Spider-Man thing, ask Gar." You laugh. "I have her and uh, yeah. I don't know. I just want to stay here and do my own thing." You shrug as a soft smile tugs at your lips.

"Good." Dick nods with a proud smile. "But if you change your mind or you ever need anything, we're a phone call away." Dick offers you a smile, something you don't know if you'll ever get used to. You're so used to fighting with him.

"Of course." You laugh. "I plan to harass you still." You beam up at him.

"Thanks." Dick deadpans with sarcasm.

"Thanks again though for..." You gesture broadly. "And not killing Jason. Seriously, Dick, I owe you a lot for the last couple of weeks for shit I did and the hell I gave you. So, thank you. I will deny it, but you are very good at this shit. And I'm gonna miss all of you a lot."

"Thank you." Dick says with honesty. "We'll all miss you, too." Dick nods down at her.

It's sad for him to say goodbye but he's very proud. A little worried because it's you but he's proud. Looking back at your first day at the tower to now, he's impressed and happy with how far you've come. It might have gotten messy but you never wavered. Jason died and that was horrible for you and it changed things. Dick saw that same thing in himself when his parents died. Then, you turn around and refuse to compromise your own morals even if that means making things harder on yourself. And you refuse to quit even when maybe you should. He thinks you'll do just fine no matter where you are.

You smile softly before closing the distance between you and hugging Dick softly. Once you let go, you head back over to your place inside the hangar with Tim and Donna. The three of you watch as the Titans pile into the RV, Tim looking defeated and saddened. Tim offers them a sad wave.

"For what it's worth," Donna says softly as she rubs Tim's back. "I think you would have made a pretty decent Robin."

"You would have." You add in, feeling bad for him.

It's as if he's watching all his hopes and dreams about to drive away. But then, Dick looks back at all of you, tossing his backpack onto his back.

"You coming?" Dick asks, his eyes right on Tim.

Tim's eyes nearly shoot out of his head as a smile splits his face. "Are you serious?" Tim asks.

"The question is: are you?" Dick asks back. "I mean you got some nice moves but you're gonna need proper training...if you're up for it."

Tim looks between the three of you with a smile that will likely be plastered across his face for the rest of his life.

"Go." You encourage him. As much as you don't want to see another friend join the whole vigilante thing, it's something Tim really wants and you do think he'll be a great Robin. He deserves the chance and it is a little funny to you that Dick is still plucking people off the street to join the Titans. Like father like son. "I'll look after your parents." You assure him before Tim is quick to skip over to the RV and dart inside before Dick can change his mind.

The three of you watch them finish getting onto the RV and unlike when you left San Francisco, this feels different. It felt...sadder last time like maybe it wasn't time for you to go. It wasn't time for you to leave the new family you had been brought into. You felt hopeful but sad where this time, there is still sadness but it's filled with hope. It is up to you to determine the life you want to live. It's up to you if you want to go back to the Titans and if not, that's okay because they're your family. It's up to you if you want to be Bluejay. You don't have to live with Bruce or Jason. You can just...be you. In Gotham, just as you were before. You'll have her best friend at your side and if you're lucky, maybe one day you'll have Jason, too. But, until then, you just get to exist with hope-filled hands.

prev. chapter

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A/n: I can't believe I finally finished book 2!! I was really pushing at the end there lmao I love season 3 but it took so much out of me lol So, thank you to all of you who kept reading and big thank you to anyone who's commented and/or reblogged!! I SWEAR comments have always meant so much to me and make me want to finish lol

So with that said, book 3 will be the last book and I don't think it will be as long as 1 and 2?? But I am really excited for it!! I have a lot planned and season 4 episode 11 is canon so you'll have that to look forward to!! I've got 3 chapters already done. I'll have more info on it later with a posting date!! It won't be long between this chapter and book 3, promise!! Thank you guys so much!! 😭😭😭

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@logangarfield

[bendrownedbodypillow]

TREPIDATION; a Ticci Toby x Male Reader

Part one; taken from my Wattpad

You sat in the bay window of your home, watching as rain pelted the sidewalk, autumn leaves clumping by the trees. The mug of tea felt warm in your hands as you waited; waited for him. He should've returned by now, had something gone sideways? He had been gone for hours  by now, the worst part was that he absolutely refused to buy any form of phone, claims he "Doesn't wanna be tracked" by anyone, like anyone would want to track him, he's fucking scary .

So you wait, and you wait and you wait, three hours, then four, then five, wondering when he's coming home, if he's coming home. Eventually it turned outside, and you busied yourself with dinner, cooking grilled cheese never felt so draining as now, maybe it's because you're trying a new recipe, or maybe it's the thoughts of his absence weighing you down, silence never felt so loud, then, finally, a knock at your back door, and a gruff "Y/N," was heard, muffled by the door and his mask.

You walked to the screen door, jiggling the handle a bit before it finally opened, it was old, older than you, older than him, it opened with a creak and in stepped Toby, covered in dirt, leaves, and viscera "Dinner's ready," You told him, offering the exhausted man a soft smile and gesturing to the meal prepared on the counter, nothing exceptional, just grilled cheese with tomato soup, but you hoped it would warm him up at least a little bit, the autumn has been harsh on him and his body doesn't even recognize it, that's one reason you're thankful to be living with him, you can make sure he's not actively bleeding out on the floor when he doesn't realize it. "Thanks," Toby mumbled, taking off his mask, his cap, and his goggles, placing them on the counter and looking up at you with tired eyes, sighing and leaning on the counter "Tobes, you're bleeding on the floor, what did you do to yourself?" You ask him, crossing your arms before dropping them at your sides and going to get the first aid kit from the pantry "I went in through the window and fell, guess a shard got me," he replies, shrugging, showing you his arm, bloodied and a bruise beginning to form, shards of glass sticking out of the cuts "Toby did you... punch the window?" You ask, squinting at his injuries, "I ain't judging but, sheesh, you fucked yourself up proper," you say, pulling out the tweezers and slowly picking out the shards, he grunts in affirmation, eyes on the tweezers, he look enraptured with the sight of you working

"I guess your classes paid off," He says with a soft smile, your chest tightens at the sight of his lopsided grin "I guess so.." You reply, shaking your head as you slowly stitch up his arm, "Is everything else okay? Can you give me a play-by-play of what happened?"

"Oh, where do I start?.." He chuckled and began explaining.

[teyamsgrl]

surrounded in smoke ✧ jake sully

❗️MDNI ❗️

YES I AMDE TSU'TEY ALIVE I MISS HIM BUT ENJOT THIS I WOULD LEGIT DIE FOR JAKE AND IM DO DRUNK YPING THIS

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, age gap (jake 30, reader 20), angst to smut, slow burn??, sorta cheesy lovey jake, l-bombs, oral f receiving, softdom!jake, dirty talk, size kink, tsaheylu, missionary 😮‍💨 - muntxatan: male spouse/mate

the multilayered tension between you and jake was obvious. the way you yearned for him was reciprocated completely, yet it was so difficult to address. jake being olo’eyktan gave him the highest status in the clan, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to compete with that. you were just another woman in the clan, a younger one at that. but to jake you were more than just ‘another woman’; you were the woman he needed, the one he would choose over anyone else. he admired your initiative, your skill in almost every possible task, your genuine kindness and generosity. you two loved each other, spent hours together yet never spoke about the one thing that was painfully evident, the one thing that kept drawing you both to each other day after day.

the war party had returned after a long day, sky dark and everyone's freckles glowing bright. all the injured men were travelling to the tsahik tent, several visibly bleeding and limping. you greeted them as they returned, searching the crowd for one specific individual. when you didn't spot jake, you began to notice the anguish on some of the faces of your fellow omatikaya. you tap tsu'tey's shoulder, urging him to look to you, "tsu'tey, where is jake?" your heart begins racing at the million possibilities swirling in your mind. "we don't know. one minute he was with us and then he was gone. we looked around the area but there was a lot of smoke and it was dark, it was hard to see if he was anywhere", your breath catches in your throat at his words, head dizzy with the thought of jake possibly being dead. "thank you.." you whisper, rushing to call for your ikran. when she arrives you hop on her back, connecting your queue with her and guiding her to the war zone. jake had warned you to never enter this area, even if it seemed necessary yet you weren't even worrying about your own safety at this point, chest heaving with every anxious breath you breathed. you finally land in the war zone amongst several destroyed rda gunships, smoke surrounding you just as tsu'tey had said.

you pulled your knife out and held it in front of you, just in case someone was to pop out of nowhere and attempt an attack. "jake!" you yell, looking through the mess of debris to see if he was anywhere to be seen. nothing. you move east of the zone first, smoke clearing as you get deeper into the forest. "jake!" you yell again, eyes scouring the area frantically. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you get even deeper into the trees, hope slowly exiting your mind. as if perfectly timed out, you heard a low grunt in the close distance. "jake?" you yell again, running towards where the sound appeared to be coming from. you see a muscular arm peeking out from behind a tree, someone obviously slumped against it. you move around the tree to spot jake there, several bruises littering his torso. "jake, oh great mother, thank you" you breathe out, kneeling beside him. "y/n? sweetheart why are you out here? it's so dangerous" he says, hand reaching for yours. "i came looking for you, what happened?" you asked, squeezing his hand as a tear rolls down your cheek. "shit i don't even know, i ended up ducking into the trees at some point and got knocked out for a bit, guess i was farther out than i thought" he explains, his eyes following the tear's trail down your freckled cheek. "i thought-" you whine softly as more tears fall, "i thought you were dead, i got so scared when you didn't come home with everyone else" he brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, swiping your tears away gently. "oh sweetheart... i'm right here, i'm alright, don't cry..." he smiles softly as you nod, nuzzling into his large and warm hand.

"god y/n..." he sighs, heart swelling at the mere thought of you being worried for him. "what is it?" you place your much smaller hand on top of his, "it must be obvious now, but i just- i need to tell you, or ask you, i guess" he rambles, biting his lip from the slight nerves emerging inside of him. "i have chosen you, y/n... i love you. if you would let me, i would be honoured to be your mate..." he trails off, thumb tracing small circles on your cheek. your heart is racing again, so fast that it feels like it could just jump out of your chest at any second. "jake... i feel the same way, ever since we first met. i would do anything to be your mate.. but jake, you are olo'eyktan, the most important person in our clan. are you sure you want me to be your mate? i'm just another woman, a younger one who is really nothing special-" he cuts you off, "hey, do not say that about yourself. i have never met someone like you, and in any life, any world i would choose you. i am positive, i want you to be my mate" he states, moving closer to lean his forehead against yours. your breath quivers at the proximity, tickling his lips. "can i kiss you, princess?" you nod frantically, his lips colliding with yours in a passionate kiss. you hum into it and reach for his shoulders, coaxing him to draw you onto his lap.

he groans softly at the feeling of your warmth and weight against him, hands travelling all over your torso, groping and grazing every inch of you. when his lips part slightly you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, tail swishing rapidly at the new sensation. his hands find a home on your hips, grasp strong as he pulls your hips down to meet his crotch in a gentle grind. you whimper slightly into the kiss as your clothed yet wet pussy rubbed against the tent forming in his loincloth. "jake.." you breathe as you retreat from his lips, hips moving at a rougher speed, his cock straining and begging to be released. "i know, babygirl... you look so fucking gorgeous" he whines out before ushering you to stand up, "off" he tugs at your loincloth in a hurried manner. you nod and quickly untie it from yourself, allowing it to fall as you step out of it. he grabs your thighs and pulls you so your pussy is now hovering in front of his mouth, slick visible and making him dizzy. "come here" he grumbles hungrily before attaching his tongue to your slit, gliding the muscle over your hole and finishing with a flick to your clit.

the whine that escapes your mouth is greedy, hole clenching around nothing. he chuckles at your noise before diving back in, tongue plunging into your hole and circling it, fingers leaving marks into your thighs. "jake" you moan, stabilizing yourself against the tree as your hips sporadically buck into him. he hums into your pussy, sending a vibration and shiver up your spine then coming back to your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. your jaw slacks while your clit pulses between jake's lips, knot inside of you beginning to tighten. "jake jake- i'm gonna-" you gasp out, roughly bucking your hips in anticipation. he hums and nods between your legs, urging you to let go for him. "oh fuck!" you squeal, back arching while you cum then slouching after your high passes. he smiles and kisses along your thighs, pushing himself to stand up, "good, princess?" "sooo good" you smirk, moving to be flush against him. he moves so his mouth is situated beside your ear, breath leaving goosebumps along your neck, "do you want more of me?" he questions, guiding your hands to his bulge. you whimper and nod, tracing his shaft over the cloth. a sensual sigh leaves his lips before he guides you to lie on a patch of moss nearby, the plush plant surrounding your body delicately.

your chest heaves as you watch jake remove his loincloth, cock finally being released. jake was huge, and your eyes widened at the sight. he buzzed at your reaction, coming to kneel between your legs. "ready?" he hoists your legs up and around his waist while he aligns himself with your dripping entrance. "y-yes, please.." you gasp at the feeling of his tip pushing in, this small section of his cock seemingly stretching you out so much already. "big..." you whisper as he continues pushing in, your back arching slightly at the further stretch. "i know princess, just a bit more... you're just such a small girl, huh?" he finally bottoms out, his eyes fluttering shut from the vice grip your pussy has on him. your back arches from the kiss his tip gives your cervix, his length making you stretch. "tell me when i'm good to move, sweet girl, i know it's a lot for your little pussy.." he expresses with care yet underlying hints of taunting. "now.. fuck me jake" you say earnestly, aching for him to begin.

he smirks and pulls his hips back just to push in again, gaining a deep and consistent rhythm. he groans as your skin slaps together, cock being sucked in each time he pulls away slightly. his hands have a nice grasp on your waist, your nails digging into his biceps. "taking it so good, look at you, so pretty down there" he moans alongside you, your mind foggy as you stare at jake above you, your pussy squelching at each thrust. "this- this is so good, so good at this, jake" you whine and move one hand to yank your queue from underneath you, holding it up towards him, "let us seal it.." he nods breathlessly, swinging his from behind his back and letting it connect with yours. his thrusts never falter as you both observe the tendrils working their magic, intertwining and connecting you both even further. both of your grips on each other tighten at the feeling of the tsaheylu; bodies, spirits and minds fully united. "i love you, muntxatan" you breathe, now dilated pupils boring into his as your bodies lurch back and forth in unison. "i love you too, so much" he groans in a whispery tone, thrusts slower and rough now, slamming into you like there's no better feeling than this. "again- cum again-" you whine, legs flexing around his slim waist. "i'm with you, babygirl, gonna give you all my cum, all of it" he leans down to kiss you, sloppily yet sweetly. you kiss back as best you can as your orgasm rips through you, your pussy clenching and pulling his orgasm out of him in an instant. "holy fuckkkk..." he moans into your mouth as he releases into you, painting your walls as you gasp loudly at the feeling.

he pecks your lips again as he comes down from the high alongside you, your hands rubbing along his heaving chest. "i'm kinda glad i got left behind today" he chuckles and brushes his nose against yours. "hey! why?! i got so scared!" you smack his chest lightly, trying to hold back the smile creeping onto your face. "i see that smile coming.. show me" he smiles down at you and strokes your cheek with one hand, the smile now full on your face. "there we go, beautiful... now look, i'm glad because you came to find me and then all this happened, otherwise it could've been more months just pining over each other" you nod in agreement, giggle escaping, "well i guess i'm glad too, and i'm glad you're only bruised up and nothing more.." he hums in response and touches his lips to your forehead, letting them linger as you breathe in time with each other, now mated for life.