#like turns out my nose might be a bit fucked because I can actually breathe when I wear them??

[wordsofwilderness]

I woke up early and went on a run today. Like help, someone inject me with the obsession juice before I turn chronically normal

[mywritersmind]

ok so very happy for charles obviously but i neeeed some fluff for lando after this race - thank you sm 🤭💘

C’MERE - LN4

listen up : was craving some cuteness as well!! some dirty jokes. helmut marco hate (well deserved and is not a warning) love u guys!!

word count : 810

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“I’m just- UGH!” I groan as Lando closes the door behind him, I immediately drop my purse and tug off my heels. “It’s unfair, Lan.”

“I think you’re more upset than I am.” He locks the door, sighing and walking closer to me. I pout as he runs his hands up my arms, getting to the straps of my stress and moving one so he can kiss my shoulder.

“It’s still unfair.” I mumble as he kisses me again.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I wanna lay with you and eat a shit ton of food and have you tell me every piece of gossip you heard today.”

My dress is off and I'm in comfy shorts and one of Lando’s shorts in minutes. Lando walks out of the bathroom, washed off and changed into sweats and a white shirt.

I smile and sit back on the bed, “Pretty.” His eyes close, breathing in before melting on top of me, his hands going around my waist and resting his head on my stomach.

“Thanks for coming.” I run my hand through his hair. I know he gets sad after a bad race but today he just seems defeated.

“I’ll always be there.” He kisses my stomach and it makes me laugh. He looks up at me, just staring. “I’m proud of you.” He smiles and I can’t help my mouth from moving, “Especially after that fucker Helmut and his little comment-”

He laughs at my angry tone, dropping his head back on me, “This is why I love you.” He sits up a bit, grabbing the menu from the nightstand and handing it to me, “I also love you because you know what I like to eat! Have at it.”

I grin widely, I've been so nervous I could barely eat all day. Which is odd because I'm not even the one in the car. I order our food and just run my hands through his hair for a bit.

There’s a knock at the door and I think he’s fallen asleep until his hands move down my body, his head peeking up at me. His eyes look tired but oddly content? Lando pulls himself up and rolls- yes, rolls- off the bed.

I sit up and clap my hands together as he rolls our food in, “God!” I groan at the smell meeting my nose. Lando plops down next to me and happily munches while I bite into my pancakes, “Would it be bad to say that I might just love this more than you?”

He shrugs and playfully hits my arm, “At least I know where your loyalties lie.” I grin, kissing his cheek as we continue to eat in silence.

This has become our routine after races. They're pretty overwhelming, especially after not having the result he wanted. So we sit and eat and stay quiet until he’s ready to talk or go out or sleep.

I might need it more than him, I love just sitting with him. Is that weird? He’s so comfortable to be around and I feel like it fits us.

We finish eating, Lando pulls me out of bed to wash our faces together because apparently he’s codependent now. We brush our teeth and I let Lando messily braid my hair.

We’re back in the bed, in the same position we started in with Lando laying on me and my hands in his hair.

“What if he’s right?” Lando says suddenly and when I pull a confused face, he looks away from me, “Helmut.”

I shake my head immediately, “Lando.” I move my hand to his chin, turning his head to look at me, “C’mere.” He sits up, his arms still around my waist but his face closer now. “You will never be weak. That fuck head-” he laughs, “knows nothing! He’s actually ancient and you know what they say, your biggest haters are just jealous.”

He laughs again, resting his head against my shoulder, “I don’t think he’s jealous.”

“Well fuck him, anyway! Lan, I'm serious. You shouldn’t listen to what he says. Or anyone, for that matter. Even I say stupid shit sometimes!” I sigh, “You’re more important than a stupid title or some dickhead's words.”

He giggles more, “I can’t believe you just called Helmut Marco a dickhead.” He looks up at me, smiling. It makes me feel relieved, “Thank you, love.” He kisses me softly.

“Plus if he knew that your ‘ritual’ was getting on your knees for me maybe he wouldn’t find you so wea-” He’s laughing harder now, kissing me deeply and pushing me into the pillows.

I laugh into the kiss, biting his lip as his hand grips my waist. His hand slips up my torso, kissing my neck as he whispers into my ear, “You’re perfect.”

[sukunasweetheart]

fem!reader, heaps of cum, somnophilia, handjob, blowjob, lots of masturbation, its just mindless smut so um... yea.... i need to go to horny jail fr for this one.

word count: 1k

I just need more perv!sukuna man.... fucking pathetic and desperate and horny, i want him with that degenerate behaviour. hes alr a horny ass mf but ohhh my goodness do YOU light a fire in him that nobody else can... You make him question his fucking dignity bc he gets a raging boner every time you do the bare minimum...

Perv!sukuna who needs to take a bathroom break every now and then around you bc his dick just wont stay down - fucking his fist desperately in a toilet stall being as quiet as possible because this is so out of character for his image, he's supposed to be the nonchalant, mean, coldhearted guy!!

Perv!sukuna who shudders from how turned on he is at the simplest things you might do, like when you bump into him on accident and the scent of your perfume hits his nose like an aphrodisiac, he wants to bury his face against the crook of your neck and inhale deeply - let the smell of you reach deep into his lungs. he wants to run his tongue across your skin so he can check if you taste as good as you smell.

Perv!sukuna who eventually makes his moves on you slowly... but its really difficult when every little kiss makes all the blood rush to his cock. He drops you off to your house after a date, and he makes out with you a little bit in his car before you have to leave, and there, he's sitting in the driver's seat with a tent in his pants. He waits until the window to your room lights up, and begins to stroke himself while thinking about how're you're probably stripping in your bedroom right now, to change your clothes. and speaking of clothes....

Perv!sukuna who likes to bring any of your scented clothes against his nose and jack off vigorously, unable to get enough of it. eyes rolling back when that orgasm hits him while every breath he takes in has your smell embedded in it.

Perv!sukuna who somehow manages to snatch up one of your panties one day and jerks himself off with it... he didn't want to cum directly on it yet, but he couldn't help himself and soiled it so quickly. he'll need to wash it now, and your scent's gonna be lost. if that's the case, he'll just use it a few more times to get himself off. (by the end of it, he's ruined it beyond washing with his seed by going a bit overboard...)

Perv!sukuna who starts nosebleeding the first time he actually gets to wet his dick with your pussy. You were mortified when drops of blood started running down from his nose once his cock was inside you. He wipes it away with tissues from your bedside and insists hes fine with a wolfish grin... he's just overtly aroused. that night, he wound up using a whole box of condoms from just your cunt alone. milked completely. so satiated. at one point, he had forgotten to change condoms after cumming once and blew a couple of loads into the same one, making you balloon up a bit.

Perv!sukuna who has a libido of an endless pit, he can stay hard and just cum over and over and over again... could stuff you so full you'll be pushing his seed out of yourself for literal days after having sex with him, once you're on the pill. he's just dumped his seed into you but his hips are still thrusting, cock heavy and ready to give you another one without pulling out once.

Perv!sukuna who is obsessed with any and every part of your body. the way he gropes your tits, ass, thighs, hips, etc. resembles a perverted old man - those grabby hands are always finding a way to squish your flesh whatever chance he gets. those large, searing and calloused hands are constantly gliding across your skin, making you wet your panties without failing all the damn time. his arms snake under your clothes very sneakily. you can push him away and verbally chastise him all you want, but you can't hide how much you enjoy all of it...

Perv!sukuna who becomes relentless with somnophilia once you give him the consent-- it starts off with just pathetic and desperate dry humping, but soon you'll be waking up with his dick anywhere on the surface of your skin or inside you, and you're greeted with a 'good morning' that's riddled with a deep groan, followed by ropes of his hot cum spilling in or onto you.

Perv!sukuna who just HAS to drag you to somewhere like the public toilets, in order to get you to suck him off or stroke him or SOMETHING bc his boner is getting too painful (you caressed his thigh). you always opt for jerking him off when you're outside, because things tend to get too messy when you let him in. he has no self control smh... now he's fucking YOUR fist in a stall, panting in your ear and saying things like "fuck, yes, baby... squeeze me more- fuu-ck," before painting the toilet with spurts of his cum. you grip firmly onto the base of his dick and he almost buckles over from the pleasure. you feel his pulsating cock in your hand and bite your lip hard.

Perv!sukuna who gets an oral fixation after you gave him head once. things get difficult for you. those pretty lips wrapped around his erection makes him absolutely feral. now he's thrusting in and out of your throat mumbling "fuck- i can't- help myself-" because you're tightening up on him so nicely and it feels too good. releases straight inside with your nose pressed onto his pubic bone, hips jerking as you feel the spurts hit the back of your throat and seep down to your stomach. his eyes half-lidded, high from the pleasure.

sukuna might be the greatest pervert of all time, but what does it say about you when you stay with him regardless? you enjoy being his live fuck toy. thankfully, he gives you great aftercare and spoils you silly behind the scenes. (i wasnt bothered to write the romance aspects so please imagine it yourselves <3) the way i wanted to add MORE but refrained bc it would get a bit too repetitive :)

Masterlist

[moonstruckme]

i don’t really request so idk if this is where i should be asking but I wanted to know if you could do a Sirius x reader story where Sirius is trying to ask out or “woo” the reader but she is rarely noticed romantically and sort of confused and surprised by sirius genuinely liking her

You nailed it, babe! Thanks for requesting :)

cw: alcohol, mention of vomiting

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The smell of vomit has escaped the bathroom and is seeping out into the hallway. You scrunch your nose and try not to breathe. Or hear. Your friend is purging all the alcohol she’s drank over the last few hours with your other friend holding her hair and murmuring slurred but heartfelt encouragements, and because you’re a sympathetic puker you’ve been put on bathroom guard duty. 

“Sorry,” you croak when another person comes up to you. “This one’s occupied. I think there’s another upstairs, though.” 

“I’d really rather people not use that one,” he says. His voice is silky smooth. “Last time I allowed that, everything in my medicine cabinet had moved around the next morning.” 

You blink. “This is your party.” 

“I’m Sirius.” He gives you a smile and sticks out his hand for you to shake. His palm is cool against yours. There’s something disarmingly intense about his gaze, the way he holds yours the whole time you’re touching. “This party is one-third mine. I live here with my roommates.” 

“Right, I—uh—” You try to reclaim control of your tongue. “I think one of my friends knows one of your—James?” 

Sirius nods thoughtfully. “Seems likely. Is she in there?” He nods to the closed bathroom door. 

You feel embarrassed at the scene now, though you’re not sure why. “Yeah. She’s helping my other friend, who’s, uh…having a rough time.” 

He purses his lips. The movement accentuates his cheekbones, which you can’t help but notice are ridiculously striking already. They certainly don’t need the extra help. “Think either of them will go through my medicine cabinet?”

Your eyebrows bunch. “No. What?” 

But he’s already knocking on the bathroom door, cracking it a tad. He brushes a piece of hair behind his ear as he bends at the waist to poke his head in. It’s a deep, impenetrable black which moves fluidly like dark water. 

“Hi.” His voice softens as he addresses your friend. You imagine the situation probably looks dire. “She alright? It’s—no, it’s fine, babe, it happens. Would you like to use my bathroom? It’s a bit cleaner, more privacy. I mean, if you think you can make the journey?” 

Someone must answer in the affirmative, because then Sirius is ushering them upstairs. You take up the rear, providing vocal but cautiously distant support and trying not to gag when your friend does. 

“Well,” Sirius says, closing the door to his bedroom behind him, “that’s taken care of.” 

“That was really nice of you,” you reply. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, it was mostly selfish.” He grins, leaning over the banister to look down at the party. “See that broad-shouldered, smiley bloke in the middle of the couch, looks like he plays every sport known to man?”

You laugh and acknowledge that you do. 

“That’s James. You can see, I’m sure, how it’d be fairly easy for him to shake me about by my ankles if I let his friend kneel on the dirty floor of our downstairs toilet. Plus, now I get to keep the general public away from my bathroom and you don’t have to look so green and uncomfortable at our party anymore. Everyone wins.” He turns his head to look at you, eyes twinkling. “But mostly me.” 

Fuck, being in this guy’s presence is like being in a dark room with a shining star. You’re blinded by the sheer presence of him. 

“Did I really look green and uncomfortable?” you ask him. 

Sirius smiles like he’s trying to stop himself but not really. “I mean, you were obviously stunning regardless, but yes. You’re much improved now, though.” He nods downstairs. “Let me get you something to drink, doll.” 

You’re concerned you might be actually reeling, but you manage to nod, and Sirius takes your suddenly warm and sweaty hand in his cool one, leading you down to the kitchen. You don’t know what’s happening, how it came to be happening to you of all people, but you’re more than willing to go along with it. 

A girl named Marlene has requisitioned the party’s alcohol. She pours Sirius a gin and tonic, giving him a meaningful look and a smile when he turns to you to ask what you want and you squeak out “The same.” He hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“So on a scale of want-to-leave-right-now to best-night-of-your-life, how good a time are you having?” he asks conversationally as he guides you into a loveseat.

You clear your throat, doing your best to act casual. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and talking to you like you’re halfway interesting. This night is ranking pretty highly. “That’s quite the range.” 

“Well, I want to allow for plenty of variance,” Sirius explains. “Earlier, you were standing outside our nastiest toilet and looking like you could be sick, so I might have interpreted that as a two and I’m hoping things have improved since then. What would you say?” 

You smile into your cup, hoping the lighting hides your blush. “Definite improvement.”

“Really?” He grins, sparkling. You try not to swoon. “That’s excellent news.” 

“Is it?” 

“Of course. I want you to have a good time, gorgeous.” 

Your heart does an odd, stuttering thing. You feel suddenly warmer. You wish any of that could be chalked up to the alcohol. If he keeps talking to you like this, you’re worried you’ll actually go into shock. These things don’t happen to you. 

“Why?” you ask, dumbly, before you can stop yourself, because you’re an idiot. 

“I mean,” Sirius swipes his hair behind his ear again, gaze dropping from yours for just a millisecond, “you might stay longer if you’re having a good time. I’ll take you for as long as I can get you.” 

His eyes have found yours again, but they’re different. There’s less bluster behind them. You feel the beginnings of a slow, shy smile spreading across your face. He actually does like you. Somehow, realizing his nervousness lessens yours. Maybe you’re on equal footing here.  

“I’m having a good time,” you tell him. “I want to stay.” 

Sirius mirrors your smile, and his charm is back in full force, but this time you can see through some of the smugness. It feels like he’s let you in on some sort of secret. “Thrilled to hear it, doll. Want to dance with me?” 

You find you really do.

[cuubism]

a silly addendum to physical therapy au

--

"I do love you, but I admit I'm questioning your judgement in this moment," Dream says. "This wasn't what I was hoping for our evening."

Yeah, Hob may be a little bit impulsive when it comes to Dream. But he maintains that decking the guy who groped Dream in a crowded bar was, in fact, thought through. It was considered. Moreover, it was justified.

He kind of wishes it hadn't turned into an all-out brawl, but really that's the other guy's fault for not knowing when to back down. And even sitting gingerly on a bar stool with Dream holding towel-wrapped ice to his cheek, Hob can't bring himself to regret it. Dream might deny it until he dies, but Hob saw the glee that flashed across his face the moment Hob's fist connected with the man's nose.

"Whatever happened to not wanting to be violent in front of me?" Dream adds, raising an eyebrow.

"This is different," Hob says. "He was literally harassing you!"

"Hm." Dream presses the ice more firmly against his cheek. Hob winces. "It was very chivalrous, until you got your head smashed into a table. I believe your jaw may even be broken."

"Fuck," Hob swears, which only makes it hurt worse.

Dream's lips twitch up. "It was very chivalrous," he says. He pets Hob's un-bruised cheek. "I will think on it often when I am taking you to your doctor's appointments to fix it."

"Dream."

Dream kisses him on the side of his lip that's not split and bleeding. It still hurts a little, but Hob thinks it's worth it to mess up his jaw if Dream will tend to him like this and look at Hob like Hob is his hero.

He reconsiders that feeling later, when it turns out his jaw is actually broken, requires surgery, and a lot of rehab after that.

-

several weeks-to-months of jaw surgery recovery later, which we're skipping over as it was undoubtedly just completely shit

-

Hob is over the moon as they walk home from the clinic. There's really nothing like breaking your jaw to make you appreciate the little things. Like being able to open your mouth.

Dream, meanwhile, is trudging along beside him, holding Hob's hand but looking depressed about it.

"I'm the one who finally got wires out of my fucking jaw," Hob says, "why are you sulking about it?"

Dream continues pouting, but doesn't let go of Hob's hand. "They said you would still need to rest your jaw for a month."

"Yeah, so? At least I can eat food again. No offense but any more days of you diligently hand-feeding me broth was going to be the end of me." He pokes at his stomach, where there's substantially less flesh than before. "Besides, look at this."

Dream looks critically at his waistline. "Yes, your weight loss has been alarming to me. But I could not figure out any other ways to add calories to broth."

Hob wrinkles his nose at the reminder of Dream's attempts. "You did try."

"I tried," Dream sighs. "You still aren't allowed to eat normal food, though."

"They gave me back ice cream, I'll take the win."

Speaking of which, they should go get some food now. Hob thinks he might even be able to handle chips if he eats them slowly. Incredible.

"Hey," he adds, as they continue their walk, "at least I can kiss you properly again." He leans over to plant a quick kiss on Dream's lips, getting a smile in return. "And talk your ear off."

"I did miss your voice," Dream says. "And your kisses."

"Why are you sulking, then?"

A hint of embarrassment colors Dream's ears pink. "I had," he starts, sentences broken up, "Things. I was hoping you might be able to do again."

It takes Hob a second to realize what he means and then he doubles over laughing.

"Are you seriously," he wheezes, "are you seriously moping because I can't suck your dick?"

"You are rather good at it," Dream says, going truly red now, and Hob has to actually stop walking because he can't breathe for how hard he's laughing.

"I'm sorry the jaw surgery recovery is so disappointing to you," he says, sucking in air. "For the record I'd rather be blowing you than doing whatever they-- oh God, am I going to have to go to physical therapy now?"

It's a sobering thought. Dream's lips twitch. "Are you opposed to the profession?" he asks.

"I'll bear it for the sake of making you happy again," Hob says solemnly, and Dream plants his face in his palms.

Perhaps to distract from his own embarrassment, perhaps to distract Hob from his impending PT burden, Dream does end up buying Hob chips. As they eat Hob looks through the discharge paperwork he was given.

"They didn't technically say 'no oral sex'," he observes, and Dream nearly chokes on a chip.

"Do they think I'm not getting any?" Hob wonders aloud. "Is that why they didn't put it in? Just took one look at me and said 'yeah don't need to tell that one.' That hurts my feelings."

"No one would look at you and think that," Dream says.

Now Hob's the one who's choking. "Are you telling me I look like a whore?"

Dream appraises him with one eyebrow raised. "No one would look at you," he clarifies, "and think that no one would want to have sex with you."

"That might be your bias," Hob tells him, but takes his hand on the table and squeezes it fondly.

"I suppose I think about it a disproportionate amount," Dream concedes, and Hob laughs. "I think they left it out of the instructions because they assumed that if you were not allowed to even eat carrots, then not deepthroating my cock was implied."

"I'm not biting your cock, though," Hob argues.

"I would hope not."

"Okay, Doctor Dream," Hob gives in, "I'll be a good boy and not give you a blowjob."

Dream gives a long suffering and truly depressed sigh. "I will cope."

Instead, Hob kisses the back of his hand, which brings a smile back to his face. Dream pets his cheek, twists fingers into his hair fondly.

"Let us go home," he says. "I will make you dinner that is not solely composed of chips."

"Not soup," Hob begs.

"Not soup," Dream agrees, eyes sparkling.

--

Dream's not entirely wrong that sex was a little weird while Hob couldn't even open his mouth. Not that that stopped them from doing other things. He is looking forward to being able to properly kiss Dream again (and other things), though he's not as disappointed as Dream is about having 'rest his jaw' for a while longer. He's too busy being happy about being able to eat with a fork again instead of a straw.

It is fun to tease Dream about it, though. Really, Hob's the one who broke his jaw, and Dream thinks he's suffering?

"You are making fun of me," Dream says as Hob lies between his legs, cheek resting on the jut of his hipbone.

Hob kisses low on his belly. "Maybe."

"Hob."

"It's cute when you're horny." It had taken ages to get Dream comfortable enough to even voice his desires and Hob still feels his heart soar when he does now. Even if he can't fulfill them at the moment.

"Horny," Dream says, offended by the word choice.

"Admit it or do ten sets of physical therapy hand exercises."

"I can think of better things to do with my hands," Dream says, and Hob laughs.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Dream pets his cheek, runs his thumb over Hob's lower lip, dipping in to touch his tongue. "I am dearly sorry you injured yourself in my defense," he says.

"Would do it again," Hob says. "You didn't see your smile."

Dream smiles again now, charmed. "Perhaps you'd like a reward."

"Oh, I get a reward now? Instead of just flack for--"

Dream pushes him up and draws him close, kissing him fiercely. His fingers dig into Hob's hair, his tongue sweeps into Hob's mouth, he nips at Hob's bottom lip as he pulls away. God, Hob's missed kissing him like that.

"Next time I'll smash the other guy's head into a table first so he can't break my jaw," he promises. "Then I won't have to stop kissing you. Or other things."

"You learned nothing," Dream complains. But he's smiling, eyes sparkling.

"Maybe you'll have to teach me something new, then?"

Dream leans in to kiss him again. "Maybe I will."

[daisynik7]

Hi, could we get a prim and proper Nanami but he has a foot fetish. Kneed his thighs with your feet and he'll turn into a moaning mess. Test him /unintentionally/ in public by showing of your cute pedicure and new heels. Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu

cw: foot fetish, established (secret) relationship, boss/employee relationship, smut.

Author’s Note: ANON you might have awoken something in me because oh boy, this was SO much fun to write. Thank you for this request and I hope you like it!

You and Nanami have been hooking up in secret for the past three months. You keep it that way because you are coworkers. Well, actually, Nanami is your boss. So, naturally, the truth makes your little arrangement a teensy bit complicated. 

Aside from this very minor deviation, Nanami is absolutely prim and proper, particularly around the office. He’s maintained that demeanor for most of his career, and he’s not going to let you of all people ruin that for him. Still, that doesn’t stop you from teasing him, especially when he’s so easy. You know exactly what to do to unravel him. Is it mean? Sure. Is it fun? Absolutely. 

You truly don’t mean to torment him. Honestly, it’s his own fault for being so fucking filthy. It was recently discovered that Nanami has the nastiest foot fetish. Everything came to light the first time he held you in a mating press, your legs up in the air as he pounded into your wet cunt, ankles draped over his shoulders. Thankfully, you showered beforehand; you’re not sure he’d do what he did if you hadn’t (and part of you doesn’t want to find out). He turned his head, your precious feet at both sides of his face. Without warning, he kissed you, first at your ankle, then along your heel, lips pressed gently to the arch of your foot. You watched him nervously as made his way to your toes, eyes locked on yours, latching his mouth around them. This was a first for you, and honestly, it was much sexier than you expected it to be. And maybe because it’s Nanami, the sexiest fucking man you’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping with. After that, it’s been on your mind since, and you just can’t help yourself when you’re in the office with him, knowing this little secret he carries. 

The two of you are scheduled to do interviews all day today. After the third candidate leaves, you finally have a short break to yourselves. Nanami stacks his notes neatly in front of him, avoiding eye contact. You smirk to yourself, knowing he’s probably thinking about you. Wishing he could ravish you on this big, round conference room table. That’s because today, you’re wearing your prettiest open-toed heels with a fresh pedicure you got done yesterday. And while he’s managed to focus most of his attention on the interviews, you’re too keen to let those quick glances of his go unnoticed. 

You swivel your chair towards him, crossing your legs beneath the dress you’re wearing. Letting the heel part of the shoe dangle freely from your toes. Behind his glasses, you can see his eyes dart to your shoe before looking back at the stack of papers on the table. 

“Do you like my new pedicure, Kento?” you ask coyly.

Through gritted teeth, he mutters, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And please do not refer to me in my first name. You know the rules.”

“Oh, come on, Kento. I saw you staring. You can’t fool me.” You slide your chair forward, closer to him, letting your heel drop with a heavy thud to the floor. 

This time, he glares at you, eyes narrowed with frustration. “Don’t even think about it.”

“We have a couple of minutes before our next interview. And we know this room is soundproof. Why don’t we have a little bit of fun?” 

“You know we can’t do that.” His voice softens, resolve gradually cracking.

“Why not?” you whine, uncrossing your legs. You rub his ankle with your bare foot, pant leg riding up his shin. 

He’s losing his composure, stiff in his seat, taking deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to keep his cool. Your foot travels farther up his leg, extending your knee straight to knead at his thigh. His jaw is clenched, watching as you reach closer and closer to his crotch, the obvious bulge protruding from his slacks. You press your toes lightly against his erection, resulting in a guttural moan escaping his lips. 

“You can touch me, too, Kento. I won’t tell. Promise.”

In an instant, he’s on you, fingers wrapped around your ankle, shoving your pedicured foot closer to his cock. “You’re a naughty fucking slut, aren’t you? Seducing me like this.”

You spread your legs wide, revealing the sheer panties you specifically wore for him today, already wet with arousal. “Then fuck me like a slut.”

He pounces forward, kneeling in front of you, knees on the carpet, your leg hanging from his shoulder. He flicks his tongue at your clit, sucking on the fabric, collecting your juices in his mouth. Thrashing his head side-to-side, eating you out through your panties, hand gently massaging your toes. With the other, he unzips his pants, whipping his cock out of his briefs to stroke himself. 

“Fuck, Kento,” you moan, head thrown back against the chair.

“Hold your panties for me,” he muffles, drooling on your pussy. 

You reach down, stretching your lingerie to the side, giving him what he wants. His tongue dips into your leaking slit, collecting your juices and smearing it onto your swelling bud. He wraps his lips around you, sucking until you’re whimpering with pleasure, coming all over his mouth. He scatters delicate kisses along your leg, ending up back at your foot, his wet lips surrounding your painted toes. With a loud pop, he releases you, expression hazy with lust. “Strip and get on the fucking table,” he demands. 

Thrilled at this switch in personality, you obey, sliding out of your soaked panties and hoisting your dress up. Bare ass sat on the smooth laminate of the conference room table. His pants and briefs pool around his ankles as he shoves your thighs up towards your chest, bending you into a mating press, guiding his thick cock inside you. When he bottoms out, he rests your ankles at his shoulders, lips around your toes again, sucking. His thumb rubs at your swollen clit until you come again, coating his cock in your creamy mess. Soon after, he orgasms inside you, spilling his load into your throbbing pussy, pulling out slowly to watch it drip down onto the table. 

“You’re a very, very bad girl, you know that?” he says, collecting the cum dribbling from your slit and fingering it back in. He retrieves your panties from the floor, slipping them back on you. “Keep my cum inside you the rest of the day. That’s a direct order.”

Grinning, you close your legs and hop off the table, saluting him. “You got it, boss.”

He slides his arms around your waist, hands squeezed at your ass, kissing you. You stay like this for a moment, melting into each other’s touch. Nanami’s phone buzzes, indicating a new email.  He breaks away to check it, eyes scanning over the message quickly before he places it back on the table, staring at you. 

“What?”

“Our next interview is running late. Looks like we’ll have to wait another half hour,” he answers, smirking.

You bite your bottom lip, tugging at his tie to pull him towards you. “So…round two?”

[lukesaprince]

Rich Part 23 Sneak Peek

“I was thinking…”

“Mh?” You hummed, buckling up the buckle on a pair of baby pink suede platform heels. They definitely weren’t Europe-appropriate, but you got a little sidetracked and with Harry encouraging you to try on everything you so much as looked at, it was easy to get distracted by anything that looked pretty.

“After your assignment is submitted Friday, why don’t we pack up your place and you can stay with me until we leave for our trip?”

“Harry I still have to study for two exams. As much as I love that idea, you don’t want me taking over your house.” You responded, standing up from the couch to test the comfort of the shoes. You stepped around them a little, walking to the closest mirror to have a look at them properly. “And I’m sure my parents would hate that I’m spending a week at yours instead of going home.”

“But you weren’t meant to go home at all, remember? Not until your exams were finished.” Harry coaxed, standing up from the couch to step behind you in the mirror and wrap his arms around your waist. You shivered slightly against him, still focusing on looking at the heels on your feet. “This time you’re close to home, close to Archie…” He hummed, sliding his nose up the side of your neck. This time you really shivered and your focus was taken completely away from your shoes. Not that you were thinking of buying them anyway. They were way too expensive but the allure of trying on Prada shoes alongside a man who already put aside a pair of sunglasses and a belt for himself was way too strong. “Close to me…” this time his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail right underneath your ear. 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, making Harry smirk at you in the mirror. Oh he had you now. Your body was becoming more pliant in his arms and you were leaning against him more and more with every passing second. 

“You could study during the day and have Archie keep you company then at night I could feed you and help you… relax,” his hand flattened against your belly, causing the bold rings on his fingers to twinkle in the lighting. You had a sudden craving for those fingers to be in your mouth or further down south where he actually could make you relax. 

“I’ll be studying all the time, Harry.” You weren’t sure why you were protesting it so much, not when the thought of a quick orgasm as your 15-minute study break sounded so delicious. 

“And I’ll be right there beside you, working or reading or providing you with a quick… study break. Whatever you need, hm.” He drawled, kissing your cheek. All you could do was nod because you were so fucking dazed and way too horny in the middle of a store you couldn’t afford. “Do you like the shoes?”

“What?” 

You didn’t even hear what he said.

“The shoes.” He tapped your belly, looking down at your feet. “Are they comfortable?”

“Oh…” You tried to snap out of it and stepped a little in place, feeling the shoes mould perfectly to your feet. God, why did you have to love something so expensive? “Yeah, they’re comfy but I don’t need them.”

“Nonsense. They’re baby pink, your favourite colour.” Harry grinned, pulling back to step in front of you instead. The fact that he called it ‘baby pink’ and not ‘light pink’ had you screaming on the inside. He grabbed onto one of your hands, holding it out between you. “Do a spin.”

You did as told and did a 360 spin for him, liking how your heights were a bit more even with the tall heel. Without saying anything more to you, he turned to the sales associate who was waiting patiently beside the couch Harry was just sitting on. “Do you have a matching bag to these? In a baby pink?”

“Yes, sir. We have a cross body and a shoulder bag.”

“Perfect. Bring them both, please.” Harry turned back to you, then suddenly whipped his head around to the woman before she could step away, “Oh, and please bring some sunglasses too. Anything you think might suit her. Thanks, love.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” You hissed, “I’m not buying anything.”

“No, I am. I like you in pink. Besides, isn’t a shoulder bag and sunglasses a necessity for a holiday?” He mused, squeezing your hips. “Let me spoil you, darling. For doing so well on your exams.”

“I haven’t even done them yet.” You blushed, protesting slightly while threading your fingers behind his neck. “You don’t have to buy me such expensive things, H. You’ve already gotten me so much today.”

“And? You deserve it.” Harry assured you, reaching forward to kiss you gently. The lipstick you applied before you left was almost gone by now. Harry could barely keep his hands off you and you didn’t really want him to. These quick, casual pecks and signs of affection meant so much more to you than anything he could buy. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, threading your fingers softly into the hair at the nape of his neck to kiss him again. “Really. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, baby.” He kissed you again and then sealed it with another quick peck before using his grip on your hips to turn you back towards the mirror. “Now tell me you don’t love the shoes. I know you can’t.”

It was store after store of shopping. You tried to keep things concise to the list you brought of things you wanted to get, but just like the Prada shoes… and bag… and sunglasses, you were both easily distracted. You had more fun dressing Harry up more than anything. Seeing him try on complete outfits you picked out for him just hit the spot for you. You loved it.

And it had nothing to do with him looking absolutely delicious in every fucking thing. You picked out a bit of a joke outfit in one of the ‘younger’ stores as Harry liked to call it, styling him in something more skater boy than his usual refined, delicious European style and he still looked hot as anything. 

Harry hated it of course, but he did like the graphic t-shirt and managed to style it in his own way with the pair of dress pants he had on. God, he was just so fucking hot. By the third men's store you brought him into, you were sweating. You couldn’t explain why it was such a turn-on to watch him open and close a curtain and show off different outfits or why a linen button-up much like everything else he has riled you up until you were clenching your thighs, but it just did. 

You finally truly understood why he liked buying you things so much. 

“Alright, last one then I need food. There’s a sushi train near here and I could demolish like twenty of those little plates.” Harry chuckled to himself and opened the door of the fitting room he was in. Upon revealing himself, your mouth properly dropped. 

It was another button-up style top but this time it was entirely made out of white crochet squares. The design was fine and perfect beyond perfect and had so many little holes throughout the design, that you could see slivers of skin everywhere. Then there was the obvious sliver of skin. The top three undone buttons that Harry had purposefully left open to expose his cross necklace and littered chest hairs. The tails of his swallows were peaking past the edges and with particular movements, the moth became more visible.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

[wonijinjin]

hot and cold

author’s note: this fic is part of the 200 followers event, requested by my lovely @welcometomyoasis go check it out and request something! ps: the first snow just fell so this is perfect timing hehe

synopsis: when you are freezing in winter joshua has his ways of warming up your heart.

word count: 0.5k | genre: fluff, suggestive | warning: joshua x gn! reader | warnings: a bit suggestive, but nothing really bold

“it is so cold shua! why on earth would we go outside in this cold weather?” you whined to your boyfriend while walking in the park; the first snow had just fallen, and joshua thought it would be a great idea to go on a walk while watching the white scenery. “oh don’t be like this darling! i know the temperature is below your liking, but i can always lend you my gloves if you would like.” he said while turning to you, his orbs shining even brighter because of the snow’s glow. he took notice of your shivering and wrapped his bigger form around yours. “that would actually be great since i am clearly freezing here.” you mumbled into his chest, soon hearing the vibrations of his laugh bubbling in his throat. he pulled away for a minute, taking his gloves off his big hands, handing it to you, but not before taking your hand in his, blowing hot air on it. “wow, you weren’t kidding when you said your hands were ice cold darling.” he said, surprised, his doe eyes going wider and wider. “i told you so, mister!” you giggled while he kissed your hand. he put his big mittens on your tiny hands, securing it nicely around the skin. “that’s it, all nice and warm now, isn’t it darling?” he grinned, leaning in to press a kiss onto the tip of your nose. “your hands are so big, shua! these are literally gigantic on me.” you giggled while joshua put his hand to yours, comparing them. “i need them to be big to be able to cup your cheeks easily when i do this.” he said, leaning in to kiss you slowly, the cold disappearing from your body after being heated up by his lips. his large form trapped you in between his legs, grabbing your waist by the belt of your fluffy coat. “actually if you feel like you are still cold i think i have a solution for that.” he smirked against your lips when the two of you broke apart to breathe. “really? what is it, handsome?” you looked up at him, waiting for his reply. “i think we may need to take this back to our house darling” he gave you a kiss “because i think” he kissed you again “that we’d both warm up faster if we took off our clothes.” he whispered into your ear, nibbing on the shell of it. “fuck off, joshua hong! how dare you say this here in public?” you laughed while pushing him away, smacking his chest jokingly. “okay, okay i will shut up for now.” he said, putting up his hands in the air in a defensive attempt. he held out his hand for you to take, which you did; he spun you around and landed you in his arms again. he kissed under your jawline, where the scarf was not covering yor sensitive neck, his breath hot on your skin. “but you might rethink this when we get home, darling.”

[forwhump]

a/n; as per usual : sorry I’m posting & also WHAT THE HELL TO EVERYBODY THAT HAS BEEN SO SO SO NICE TO ME ABOUT MY LITTLE GUYS 😭😭😭 bffs forever no take backs

& in honour of being bff’s have another point thing >:) as a treat

tw/cw: dehumanization, rape, noncon, transphobia, misgendering, captivity, kidnapping, psychological torture, sexual violence, grievous bodily harm, skinning

creepy whumper, living weapon whumpee, kinda implied violence against animals but “the dog” is actually a man

That fuckin’ dog massacres ten of Point’s men before he puts enough bullets in its brain that it finally stops moving.

Ten.

He stands amongst carnage, the ruin of his men smeared across the floors and walls of the unit. The dog is dead at his feet, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’ll be back, ‘cause it always comes back. It’ll be taken to see the fuckin’ Pet Sematary poindexters and they’ll bring their precious sack of shit back to life.

Point’s men will all remain dead. The dog kills ten people, Point’s people, innocent people, and it doesn’t even get put down, not really. Point’s men work guard detail, they’ve never killed anybody, and they don’t get a second chance. They’re all just dead.

He lifts his head slowly, looking at the insubordinate super freaks through red mist. How fuckin’ spoiled. How fuckin’ ungrateful. Looking at him now, eyes wide with terror. What a fuckin’ joke. They saved these people, each of them. Sincerely. The girl’s brother was a crackhead, for fucks sake, and now he’s got all his teeth. What does he have to complain about? The dog was pieced together with scraps from death row. Maybe that’s where they went wrong with it. Maybe the meat was always rotten.

He takes a breath through his nose and it smells like a butcher shop. He looks slowly at the girl and he can barely look at her. He’ll make her cry, but he thinks she’s gonna be face down while he does it. “I told you,” he says slowly, “to keep that thing on a shorter leash.”

She isn’t looking at him, but at the carcass of her dog. It’s disgusting, her fuckin’ fetish for that thing. It’s a fuckin’ dog, and even then, just barely. “You’ll pay for what it’s done,” he says.

She lifts her head slowly. “Darren,” she breathes, and he can’t help the disgusted noise he makes. He’d only told her his name because in the moment, he’d wanted to hear her say it. She abuses the right, and she’ll be punished for that, too.

He looks away, back down at the dog, but instead, he’s looking at hardwood.

“Darren,” she repeats, and her voice is weird. Her accent is wrong.

“What?” He says, and lifts his head, and he’s looking at his wife.

She smiles down at him, hands folded under the prominent swell of her stomach. He’d completely forgotten she was even pregnant. He’d been under for a lot of months this time.

“Still waking up a little bit?” She teases. He’s sitting on the couch in his living room, in his home above ground, sunlight filtering in through the windows. The world always feels way too bright for the first few days.

“I guess so,” he says.

She laughs, pushing his hair back as she presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I think we should start talking names when you’re a little more awake,” she says. “Just in case you’re not here for the birth.”

“I will be,” Darren says. He adds, anyway, “I’ve always liked the name Wren.”

“Wren?” She repeats, and tilts her head thoughtfully. “That’s so cute. How’d you think of Wren?”

He forces himself to smile at her. “You don’t think I can come up with cute names?”

She laughs again. “I just didn’t expect your one suggestion to be such a knockout,” she says. “Wren might be a strong contender.”

His smile is a little less unnatural this time. “Good.”

The girl chokes out a sob, and Point grins a little wider. “You’re doing so good,” he coos softly. “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

She tries to turn her head and he grabs her by the jaw. “You look at me when I fuck you,” he tells her. She sobs again. It makes him smile, and he smiles until he lifts his head to look at her dog. There isn’t much left of it, but it’s still snarling. Spirited, that thing. “You,” he tells it. “Look at me, too, when I fuck her.”

The dog tries to lunge and a meat hook rips a huge chunk of flesh out of his left side. The dog howls, and the girl sobs so hard Point can feel it in every nerve ending in his body. He groans. He can’t help it.

“Please,” she sobs. She presses her bound hands into his chest and the gentle touch, the unusually nonviolent touch makes him groan again. “Please. You’re hurting him.”

“He’s hurting himself,” Point says. “I have no hand in that.”

“Please,” she sobs.

Her dog is feral. How is that any fault of Point’s?

It had been stored in this room for a long time, out of the way, out of Point’s hair, where it wasn’t a danger to anybody. The girl had been missing it, and Point had been paying it visits, so he knows it missed her, too.

He thought it might be nice for it to see her again. He was doing them both a service, really.

It’s pulled most of the meat out of its left side and it’s skinned nearly everything else in its desperation to get free. It’s a big dog, strong, feral and bloodthirsty, and even down here, even alone, they didn’t trust it. It had been held to its place against the wall with meat hooks, with steel cables woven through the gaps between its bones. It pulls, it breaks bone, it peels skin away from muscle and meat and away from bone but they’d be so careful with it. It mutilates itself but it does not get free. It will bleed to death before it does. They’d been careful to make sure of that.

He watches it bleed all over the place, and then he looks down at the girl, at the mess she’s become beneath him, flush with crying, pleated skirt pushed up around her waist. She’s fuckin’ unreal, this girl, and he shouldn’t even have to fight that thing for her. What kinda hot girl fucks dogs? Point always finds himself falling for the crazies.

He looks at her dog again. He can see through its rib cage on its left side. “Sit,” he commands, and whistles it through his teeth. “Down, boy. Be a good dog and watch how good your girl takes my cock.”

Its lip curls back from its teeth and it might paint a frightful picture if it weren’t hardly more than howling, twitching meat. “You’re a fuckin’ freak,” it snarls, and he might as well have doused Point in lighter fluid for how immediately Point is consumed in smouldering, white hot rage.

“The talking fuckin’ dog thinks I’m a freak?” He spits, and the girl cries out from beneath him. “Shut up,” he hisses at her.

“Please,” she tries again, but now he’s not happy. If this girl had a fatal flaw, it would be her stupid, sack of shit mutt, that’s for sure.

“Shut up,” he snaps, and leans his weight on one forearm so he can crack his fist into her wet face.

He puts too much weight into it, and her head hits the concrete beneath her too hard. She goes limp, and that’s not what he wanted at all. “Fuckin’ whore,” he snaps.

The dog roars and Point doesn’t look at it.

He pulls out of the girl just long enough to turn her onto her stomach. He pulls her hips up and her skirt down and lifts his head to look at the dog as he pushes back inside her. Its desperate, howling sounds are starting to get really wet. It shreds more of its flesh.

“Get the fuck away from him,” it snarls, and Point still isn’t happy, but he grins.

“What are you gonna do, big guy?” He asks. “Bleed?”

The muscles of its chest are almost all visible, and the way they move as it pants is kind of a turn off. He has to look back down at the girl, only ever this well behaved when she’s unconscious.

“I’m not gonna kill you,” the dog tells him, low and rough. “But you’re gonna wish I had.”

“Is that what you think,” Point asks, “tough guy?”

He lifts his head, looking up at the nurse, her eyes crinkled above her pink surgical mask as she lowers his newborn son into his arms. He’s bundled in a blue blanket and a little blue beanie, stitched with the name of the hospital in white. He looks like any other baby Darren’s ever seen, small and unexceptional.

“Congratulations,” the nurse says, and he smiles like he’s supposed to. “He’s beautiful.”

“That’s because he looks like his mother,” he says, and her eyes crinkle again.

“C’mere,” his wife says, weak with birth. He turns to her and her arms are outstretched from the bed. “Let me see my baby.”

“I’m right here,” he says, and she laughs softly.

“C’mere, baby.” She pats the spot next to her, and he settles at her side, their youngest son cradled in his arms. She leans into him, cheek against his arm as she peers down at the baby. Darren doesn’t really know what there is to see; it’s not their first baby, and he looks the same as all the other ones. His wife kisses his arm before she coos down at him like he’s something special, reaching out to hold a tiny foot through a pale blue blanket. “Hi,” she coos to him softly. “Hi, my baby.”

“We make some beautiful babies,” he says, even if they don’t, not especially. “Don’t we?”

“The most beautiful,” she agrees, looking up at him slowly, and she leans up to kiss him before she leans back down to kiss her son. “Right?” She coos to him. “Aren’t you the most beautiful baby in the whole world?”

Point, exhaling softly, says, “fuck. You’re so beautiful.”

The girl looks up at him from his bunk with wide, wet eyes. She’s wearing this little satin slip he’d stolen from his wife ‘cause he thought it would look better on her and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. He was right.

She has this wide eyed, dazed look to her she always gets when his men were particularly unkind to her. Her mouth is swollen and there’s come tracked down the insides of her thighs, smeared across the dark sheets. She looks holy. She’s the most beautiful thing Point’s ever seen.

“Please,” she says, her voice rough with crying, probably with screaming, too. “Please, I want —“

“I don’t give a shit what you want, cowgirl,” Point tells her, pulling his belt free.

She tries to cower away from him, but there’s nowhere she can go. “Please,” she says, quick and breathless. “Please,” and she sobs. “I’m —“

“I don’t give a shit, cowgirl,” he repeats. “What do you think this is?”

The rise and fall of her chest is enchanting. She’d had her tits surgically removed, for whatever reason, but she’d never been able to fill out the Barbie doll curve of her waist and the way the satin pools in it now makes Point’s mouth water.

“Please,” she tries again, and he doesn’t look into her face but at her stomach, slightly concave, now, beneath the shimmery material. She’s starving again, and something’s gonna have to be done about that soon. It’s hard to keep her fed — if she doesn’t refuse to eat, she doesn’t keep it down.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her again, because he can’t really help it.

“Dad,” his son says.

Darren looks down at him, standing in the grass in their obnoxious front yard. This one’s the second oldest, but he doesn’t know how old that is. He can’t tell how old kids are. Somewhere between two and eighteen, probably. This one looks the most like him so Darren likes him the best.

“Yeah?”

The kid is playing with the hem of his shirt, peering up at him from a face framed with Darren’s hair. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is too bright. “Do you have to go back to work soon?”

Darren crouches in front of him slowly, heaving a sigh. He pushes the kid’s hair back from his face. “Yeah, buddy,” he says. “Couple more days.”

“And you’re gonna be gone for a long time?” He asks.

He nods, doing something with his mouth that he thinks looks regretful. “Yeah, buddy,” he says again. “When I go to work, I go to a really secret place really, really far underground. It’s really hard to get there and it’s really hard to come back, so that’s why when I go, I go for a long time.”

“I don’t like when you go for a long time,” he admits.

“I’ll always come back,” Darren tells him.

“What do you do at work?” His son asks. It’s not the first time he’s asked.

“I told you,” he answers, “I do all kinds of things. I work for the government.”

“Can I come to work with you one day?”

“Maybe one day,” he says as he stands.

He looks down at the bleeding mess of the dog at his feet. This stupid, belligerent mutt. This ugly, worthless sack of shit.

“You’re a waste of the skin we made you with,” Point spits.

It’s flat on its back and when it coughs up blood, it almost drowns in it. Point watches closely and revels in its pain.

It had killed six more of his men. Six. His numbers are dwindling and Point doesn’t think he’s ever hated anything as much as he hates this fuckin’ thing.

It bleeds at his feet. Both of its arms had been nearly severed at different points, but still, it lifts a trembling hand from a dark pool of blood, and raises its middle finger.

Point can’t believe the fuckin’ nerve of this thing.

“Once you’re dead,” he says, “I’m gonna carve you open, and I’m gonna fuck your girl in your carcass. I hope this was worth it.”

And he empties his gun into the dog’s face.

[wormdebut]

Hello! How about 21 for your Spotify wrapped? 👯

HI! I am so fucking sorry this took me forever. This one was a massive challenge for me because 21 on my Spotify Wrapped is Counting Worms by Knocked Loose. For any of you that know, Counting Worms is thirteen words long so I had to process how I wanted to handle this. (And work fucking sucks and I'm exhausted as hell but that's beside the point.) I hope you enjoy this. I actually love it a lot more than I thought I would. 🖤

----

'I wrote a song about getting better, it's a feeling I don't remember'

Steve stares at the words on the page, looking up to cock an eyebrow at Eddie, "What comes next?"

Eddie stifles a laugh. "Nothing does, Stevie. That's it."

Steve scrunches his nose, confused. "Thats--the song? That like ten words."

Eddie grabs the paper from him and smiles down at it. "It's thirteen words, big boy. And its--sometimes it's not about the amount of words. It's about feeling something."

Steve tries not to blush. Big boy certainly did a number on him. He would never fucking admit that--but, it is what it is.

He shakes he his head, to try and clear his thoughts, "Sure."

Steve watches as Eddie's smile widens, eyes crinkling in the corners. Christ.

"Did you?" Steve asks.

"Did I what?" Eddie questions.

"Did you ever get better?"

Eddie's smile softens then. "I'm working on it."

----

Steve always knew he was something--something not straight. He just didn't really have a word for it, and he tried not to dwell on it. Didn't get caught with drifting eyes in locker rooms, made sure Tommy wouldn't tell a soul about what they got up to. He didn't. Tommy might be an asshole but he wouldn't out himself or Steve…

Anyway, Steve always knew. He always knew and he had told Robin a few months after Starcourt. She helped him find the words for it. Bisexual. So Steve knew what he was, but he was fine ending up with a woman. That's just what he always figured would happen

But Eddie? Eddie changed everything.

Robin had told him just to fucking talk to him. She said that he was being a hypocrite because he had helped her get her shit together enough to talk to Vickie after everything and it had worked out--at least for a bit--but that's beside the point. The point is Robin had asked Vickie out and Steve just stared at Eddie talking, at Eddie playing D&D with kids, at Eddie writing music. He just watched.

He was scared because Eddie? Eddie was loud and confident and interesting and important.

Steve was just…Steve.

What would he even say?

----

It'd been a few months since Steve had found the song. Thirteen words.

He couldn't stop thinking about it.

'It's about feeling something.'

He still hadn't said anything to Eddie, but he needed to…Well, he wanted to.

There's only a couple of days left until the kids have winter break, and Steve is expecting them to invade his home as per usual so he has been cleanly all fucking day listening to Abba and thinking about Eddie Munson's stupid fucking hands.

He was feeling impulsive--he could talk to Eddie--he could. Eddie had said it wasn't about the amount of things he had to say it just had to mean something…right?

Steve grumbles out a sigh before stomping over to the phone. He dials out the number--has it memorized by now. It's late, he listens to the line trilling as the clock turns. 10:12 pm.

"Thanks for calling the bat cave." Eddie rambles off.

"Yeah, hi batman. It's Steve."

Eddie laughs over the line. "Stevie! To what do I owe the late night call?"

Steve steels himself. "Listen, I--can I come over?"

"Uh--yeah? Are you okay?" Eddie asks and Steve shakes his head, not that Eddie can see it anyway.

"I'm--I just--I'll be over in a few." Steve breathes. He can do this. It's fine.

"Okay, S. Just be safe--alright?"

Steve mumbles out an affirmative before hanging up and grabbing his keys.

----

He only paces outside of Eddie's door for a minute or two before he knocks lightly. Eddie is quick to answer, looking ridiculously hot for a man wearing worn out sweats and one of a thousand old band tees. He looks worried and Steve feels bad about that but--he's just gotta--

"Can we go to your room?" Steve asks and Eddie lets out a shocked laugh before nodding and heading back through the apartment. Steve follows behind.

He stands frozen in the bedroom doorway, watches as Eddie sits on the edge of his bed with head cocked to the side.

"What's going on Stevie? Was it the nightmares again because--"

Steve shakes his head, and swallows before just--going for it.

"Look--I've been--running so many things through my head. I've written speeches and songs--which is sort of your thing. So, I stopped that. But--I have thought over and over again about how to say what I need to say.

And you--you told me 'it's not about the amount of words, it's about feeling something.

And when I look at you? I feel everything--

And I just--I just needed you to know."

Eddie blinks up at Steve, eyes wide. Great. Steve fucking scared him. Awesome this is great. This was a really fucking awesome idea Steve. Nice--

"That was a lot more than thirteen words, sweetheart." Eddie smirks at him and Steve feels his heart stutter at the name.

Steve breathes, "Yeah well--did I fuck everything up?"

Eddie moves from his bed then, quick to meet Steve in the doorway. Steve is quiet. He watches as Eddie's eyes move from Steve's own, down to his lips and back up again.

Eddie brings a hand up to cup his cheek and Steve can't help the soft noise that escapes his throat. The other man swipes his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. "No Stevie, I really don't think you did. I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

Steve can't do anything other than nod.

----

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Bestie hear me, out hear me out, it might be my atsv hyperfixation still running high and the fact that the kraven trailer got me binge-reading/watching every piece of media that this man appears in but could I request an enemies to lovers trope with Kraven and gn spidey reader ? Is it going to be just fluff or have some smut at the end ? I'll leave that up to you.😜

Anyway, feel free to ignore it if it's not right up your alley.

Thank you and I hope you're having a good day <3

I LOVEEE THIS

Warnings- suggestive towards the end but no actual smut, reader and Kraven been “enemies” for months with just a lot of tension

Spiders

Kraven liked spiders, just like he did lots of animals. He found them interesting and beautiful.

His opinion had changed when he met you.

“I’m just doing my job.” You said, putting your hands up in defense quickly running up a wall, away from the man who was currently trying to attack you. He seemed feral, almost.

“Well let me do mines.” He growled, and started to walk away when you shot a web to him, quickly making him turn back to you.

“Yeahhhh.. after what I just saw, can’t happen.” You folded your arms, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well then pretend you didn’t see it.” He began to walk away again, not feeling like killing a popular hero and getting arrested for it.

“You bit some guys nose off, man!” You groaned and shot some webs in front of him, blocking him from leaving.

The man turned back, sighing.

“Fine.”

He ran up to you, you shot a web in his face, making him unable to see, you kicked his ankles, he fell down to the ground and ripped the web off his face, now pissed off.

He ran towards you, your eyes widening and you quickly shot your webs towards him, they hit his arms, and you pulled, throwing him towards the ground, as he was down you made a makeshift cocoon with webs, trapping him.

He threw his head back onto the concrete, and you picked him up like he weighed nothing as he trashed around in the webs.

“Jesus Christ, man, you’re so violent.” You said, as you struggled to hold him.

“If you let me go I can show you just how violent I am.” He mumbled.

“Sounds great. So great.” You rolled your eyes. Asshole. That’s when a loud noise behind you stopped you, a whole damn tiger running up.

You yelped and dropped Kraven, his head hitting the ground as he groaned, the tiger sniffing him before looking back at you, making a run for it.

“How’d you get a damn tiger?!” You yelled, running away.

————————————————————-

So that’s how you were now standing in front of him, you both just staring, your arms folded.

“Sooo… how was your day?” You said, trying to lighten to very tense mood.

“It was good before I saw you.” He looked back at the group of people he had just murdered.

“Mm.. I see that. And what’d these guys do?”

“They are- they were working for my dad.”

“Oh, so daddy issues?”

“Yeah… something like that.”

“Well.” You sighed. “As much as I would love for this great conversation to continue, I gotta take you back to jail.” You shrugged.

“So I can break out again?”

You groaned in annoyance. “You better not.”

He laughed quietly and shook his head.

You both fought for a while, and suddenly he was on top of you, breathing heavily as you tried to push him off, your attempts futile. He stared down at you, just staring.

(Can you guys tell I suck at writing fights?)

It all was probably because of adrenaline, but you quickly lifted up your mask, and he was bending down to your level, and your lips suddenly connected in a hungry kiss.

———————————————————————

You laid in the hotel bed, lifting the sheet up and thinking about every single choice you just made.

He got in the bed next to you, you continued to stare at the ceiling.

“That can never happen again.” You mumbled after a while, him reading a book.

He looked at you, laughing again.

“That’s what they all say.”

“Seriously- me and you- we fucking.. hate each other.

“Mmm.. do we?”

“Yes! I’m the person who’s stopped you like a billion times-“

“Tried to stop me. Some of those times you failed.”

“Oh, whatever! You’re a prick.. just happen to be a very attractive prick. And it was just adrenaline-“

He snickered and looked back at the book.

“Was it?”

“Yes! You’re like… you’re like a fucking bird, and I’m the damn spider! In case you don’t know-“

“Birds eat spiders-“

“Exactly!”

“So you admit it? I beat you a lot?”

“Shut uppp.” You rolled your eyes.

“Something kinda rude to say to a guy who you were just begging to fuck you.” He snickered.

[inthedarkshadows000]

SneakPeak#101.......

From the story I might never write.

"I would like to take offence to that. I too can be that and more." He said and moved forward, into my personal bubble. His eyes never leaving mine. My fingers that held the cigarette to my lips froze right there and my smirk dropped.

"Inhale yn...." he whispered, too close for my brains to function. Like a puppet on strings I did what he said and inhaled.

"Good girl, let go now." And like a braindead person I did. My brain had turned to mush but I didn't care because when i saw him inhale the smoke that left my lips, leaving not a tendril behind, I felt my brain short-circuit.

His lips moved right next to my ear and I heard him exhale while murmuring "give me a chance to show how much of a gentle-man I can be."

Sir, can you not. I am already in love with you why give me a heart attack with such stunts.

OK, deep breat- no no deep breath. Can't let his unholy cologne invade any further.

So let's reboot. Brain fucking reboot. Right what were taking about.... hard no wait gentle- gentleman!! right!!!

He had moved back to where his nose touched mine, probably watching me short circuit. He had a smirk plastered on his gorgeous face that had to leave because I will ALWAYS  have the last word!!!!

"What say princess?" He WAS LAUGHING AT ME. Well not all out but his tone was mocking.

"The princess wants to actually tell you about her observation." I set my chin in defiance and looked straight back. " So please correct me if I am wrong but your manners, although genuine, are mainly a cover for your inner freak. You show the world how calm and intelligent you are, no doubt you definitely are, but that not all there is to you, is there?" I had taken him by surprise. His eyes wide, he moved back a tiny bit in shock and I took that moment to move into his space.

I traced his face with my finger that still had the cigg.  Starting from where his bangs fell perfectly on his forehead and moved along his cheek as I continued to whisper "Its because of that hidden menace that you click so perfectly with gojo. You might be tamer but just a lethal, aren't ya?" finalling reaching his chin, I held it between my thumb and forefinger and tugging him closer.

I watched a his eyes few bigger and bigger and a prominent blush coating his cheeks. He opened and closed his mouth like fish and it only made me want to tease him more. So I did.

I leaned close to his ear and continued "Don't worry, this personality of your is the reason why you have brownie points over the rest of them."

Leaning back into my seat, I took a gulp of my coffee and smiled sweetly at him, while he stayed right where I was holding him. This made me busy out laughing. "Please tell me I haven't broken you, geto" I couldn't help but comment.

This made him jerk back into his seat and shake his head a little. "You are evil. I hope you know that" I just grinned cheekily at that.

"Also you might as well call me suguru. With you knowing everything from the show,  you are hardly a stranger."

"I agree I have watched the show but I do not think I know everything. Plus whatever I do know is something extremely generic and not to mention one sided. That doesn't make us familiar. Familiarity comes when information is exchanged. Willingly. Ask me to call you suguru when you think I deserve it. After all it's a privilege to be considered close to you, a privilege that I should earn, don't you think?" I winked at him playfully.

"I... thank you. I didn't realise I needed to hear that. I was feeling restless but hadn't realise it was because I felt invaded" He turned his face away to look out the balcony as he's said that.

I pursed my lips together in sympathy. "You'll feel better once you know what is shown in the show." And he nodded.

I avoided looking at him and annoyed a frayed string on my jeans as I mumbled on, "If it makes you feel better, my description of your personality is not something that is extremely highlighted. It's just one of the many theories people have."

His sudden booming laughter made me jump a little in my seat and look at him. 

He still sat facing the sky so only half his face was visible and what a beautiful half it was. The glow of the full moon made him look ethereal.

[terresdebrume]

"You had another nightmare."

Crystal gives Edwin her most venomous glare. She thinks the effect is kind of ruined by the big bag under her eyes, but still. It's the fucking thought that counts. He wasn't even condescending about it this time it's just. He's the wrong half of the boys for this. Just because Crystal figured out how to exist alongside him doesn't mean they're close.

Well, they are. But they're the kind of close that comes from caring deeply about the same person. Not the kind of close that comes from spontaneous appreciation. Crystal sighs, and lets her head fall down on her knees.

"Please go away," she mumbles.

By her side, Edwin scoffs.

"Believe me, I too wish Charles were here instead of me. However, since he very inconveniently decided to take a walk tonight, I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me."

Crystal sighs again, fingers digging hard into the sides of her knees. The problem, of course, is that Edwin isn't wrong. She's not sleeping again tonight, that's a given. She might be able to sleep properly tomorrow, but she hasn't had a full night since she confronted David, so she's not exactly holding her breath. She could wait for Charles, but then what? Think of the way she kissed him and chicken out? Not fucking helpful.

"It's not a nightmare," she admits at last, bumping her forehead against the bones of her knees. "It's memories."

"Please trust that I am deeply familiar with situations when those two things are one and the same."

It still strikes her, sometimes, how weird Edwin's speech pattern sounds to her ears. Not enough to make her laugh, or at least not anymore. Just weird enough to stretch her mouth into a smile. For Edwin to click his tongue.

"I do not feel like my efforts are being properly appreciated."

"So sorry, your highness," Crystal snorts.

She knows he's rolling his eyes from the way he sighs. It does make her feel better, to be honest. She's not sure if Edwin's doing it on purpose, but there's something about annoying him that works very well to take her mind off the new information in her head. It's simple, too.

Things with Charles are. Awkward. Which is probably a bit her fault for sending somewhat mixed signals, but Charles has been a little off ever since Hell, so he's probably to blame too. A little. The point is: even if he were here, Crystal wouldn't go to him.

Edwin is a shit listener, and even shittier at hiding he doesn't care, but he's here. And easy to annoy. And actually being... Okay. For once. With a sigh, Crystal tilts her head sideways so she can glance at Edwin. He's not looking at her, of course. Is in perfect profile from her, actually. Straight nose, frowning brow, stuffy jacket and vest and collar.

"Thanks," Crystal makes herself say, just to remember she can.

"Oh, don't be sentimental," Edwin says, primly. "Now that you are our official psychic, it is merely good business sense to help you digest your new memories."

Crystal bursts out laughing. It's way too loud for this time of night, and shrill, and more than a little fucking hysterical. In her throat, she can still feel the balls pressing against he windpipe, her skin, her bones. She remembers the way they blocked her air, the irrational fear that she wouldn't be able to get them down. The terror washes over her and turns to more laughter, then wheezing breaths.

"Yeah," she manages between two gasps for air, "they were really fucking hard to swallow."

She doesn't think she'll ever be able to tell Edwin why she laughs until she cries.

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[stusbunker]

Tattered: The Things We’ve Been Promised and Fought for

A SPN ABO Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dean, Cas/Meg

Word Count: ~5600

Warnings, etc: Rushed through rut sex, Dean disappearing to go after the Leviathans, building a bigger pack, the babies arrive (hospitals, blood, c-section, nursing), and a jump forward

Series Masterlist

Special shout out to @lastactiontricia​​ for putting up this series the entire time.

SAM

Cas was actually right. She’s fine. The babies are fine. I don’t know if I’d call it a miracle, but it’s a win and we’ll take it. The doctors asked her if she’d be interested in being included in a medical paper. She told them she’d think about it, being warned by an angel about our claim imbalance is a bit harder to reproduce in further studies.

And the last thing we really want is more questions.

She smells like sunbaked wheat fields and some kind of pastry, warm and comforting as she nuzzles me awake. Dean’s on his belly, head shoved between his pillows snoring gently. He’s dreaming vaguely, so I know we’ve got time to ourselves. I reach down and palm her ass, scooping her onto my lap as I tug the sheer nightgown up by my fingers.

She’s bare against my belly as she starts to kiss me, slow and teasing. I eat it up.

I hold her jaw in the palm of my hand slowly lap into her mouth, tasting and tempting as she gets wetter against me. She’s so solid now, the pups’re over a pound each and getting bigger every appointment. I want to keep her close, make sure she’s this healthy and safe always. Fill her up over and over so no one questions that she is spoken for, claimed by and possessing both our hearts. I need to be inside her, ten minutes ago.

She groans and then chuckles knowingly. “Your rut is coming up, I can smell it, it’s almost smokey on your skin.”

“What are we gonna do?” I ask, worry sinking in my gut.

“What we always do, fuck like crazy, hydrate. Rinse and repeat.”

“But what about the pups?”

She smirks down at me like I’m an idiot. “Sam, alphas have been fucking their pregnant omegas since the begining of time. Rut sex isn’t a threat, unless you tie me down and leave me somewhere—”

“I would nev-”

She brushes her thumb over my lips. “I know, stud, I know. I’m just saying. We’ll get through it. Dean might be pissy, but he gets his turn soon enough.”

I nod against her hold on my chin and she rewards me with a firm kiss. I hug her close and breathe in the calm she radiates, nosing against her hair. I won’t hurt her. I can’t.

She reaches between our bodies and starts stroking me back to life. I groan, watching as she rubs against my side, riling herself up just as much. I spin us on to our sides and she rolls to slot her ass against me, keeping it quiet for Dean, who’s still asleep behind me.

      "Easy," I murmur and kiss the back of her neck. I sink inside her slowly, inch by inch. She's even tighter at this angle and I close my eyes and breathe. I need to make this last for her.

       She gasps and starts rocking against me, so I pull her tighter to my chest. The smell of her slick fills the room and I love her so much I don't know what to do with it all. I cup her tit and marvel at how heavy they've gotten, nuzzling against my claim on her neck.

     I push into her in shallow rolls. My knot is hot against her ass. But we're in no hurry. She keeps sighing and squeezing me. My name coming out in little slices of whisper.

  "It's okay, baby."

   She breaks off on a moan and I brush my fingers over her nipple to give her more. But I keep it slow, building, trying not to rush anything. She pulls my fingers off her nipple and sucks them into her mouth, which is just —- then she drags them out and down to her clit. And as I slide them against that swollen nub, she clenches and my knot throbs. I gasp against her hair, trying to breathe through it all.

  Stopping myself from fucking her into the mattress, because I know she likes to be tossed around, even now.

    “Make me come first, Alpha—- Sam, please, I’m so close—,” she demands more than begs and I’m fucking trying, but she’s so wet I’m losing any purchase I have on her clit. I seal her lips around it, and rub, feeling it all hot and grinding against my hand. She’s digging her nails into the back of my neck, holding me as close as we can get from this angle and I’m going to explode.

   I teeth down the side of her face, landing on the hinge of her jaw and instead of biting her, I suck the smooth skin into my mouth. I can feel her blood drawing into the bruise, the delicious heat. Her claws are latched into my flesh and she keens, coming with a bucking thrash against my side— her legs kicking the last of the blankets off my side of the bed.

   I lick the sweat off her neck and pin her mound with the heel of my hand as I finish rutting my knot into her pulsing core. God— I swear I don’t know how I fit, but she fucking makes room for me or something because when I lock into place it’s like the first day out of the cage again. Her scent floods me with completion— contentment and I’m blinking away the tears. Mine. Ours. Us.

    I place my hand on her belly, dragging it up and down, feeling the shape of our pups inside and I pour even more pride and love into the air.

When we wake up, Dean’s gone. He left us a note saying: ‘Have a good rut. Fridge is stocked.’

*

It takes us two days to realize Cas and Bobby are gone too, between the house and salvage yard it’s a ghost town and we both know that can’t be good. But I can’t go and find anybody with a constant erection and reeking of rut. Besides, she’s got us nested down so good I’d probably lose my nuts if I even suggested we leave.

We’re both exhausted, but hydrated. And I’m eating her out like I’m going for the record. Not that Dean and I keep score, or anything. Or at least not that she knows about.

She’s riding my face and I can’t even see her tits anymore, her belly’s so big and that’s saying something because her tits have never been better. Fuck she’s so close I can taste the change in her slick— like it gets ultra concentrated just before —- I’m drowning in it, slurping it up and feeling her thighs trembling against me.

I’m hard as fucking steel and I don’t even want to touch my dick. I want to stay here on the verge of suffocation surrounded by my mate’s scent, her warmth. It makes me think of poems from school, of dying willing in your lover’s arms. Take my life, it is already yours.

And then she’s gone, slumped against the pillows and fanning herself as she catches her breath. I grin at her and wipe my mouth off with the back of my arm. She rolls her eyes at me and beckons me closer. I fall against her, hugging her middle as best I can while arching around the pups. My dick is persistent, but remains ignored along her leg.

She plays with my hair and I moan as she starts to scratch my scalp.

I can smell it on her before she voices it out loud, but still she says. “I’m worried about Dean, Sam.”

“I know, me too.”

"Do you think the Leviathans got them?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Just like that. No?” She looks at me like I’m lying to her, which I haven’t been able to manage since I got my soul back.

I shake my head, chewing on the explanation for my conviction. “It’s just, we’d feel it if something big happened, wouldn’t we? I think they’re hunting, but I don’t think it’s Def Com 6 here. Plus Cas and Bobby are with him— Dean’s gonna be fine.”

“You’re not just saying that because you want to keep fucking like rabbits, right?”

I sigh and try not to glare at her. But she smirks at me and I know she knows I was being sincere. “Very funny.”

“Dean’s not the only one that can give you shit, mister,” she teases, sinking further down my body to plop into my lap.

I nuzzle my nose against hers and she hums before she kisses me firmly on closed lips. “Even though you’re sure, I’d feel better if everyone was back home. So! Let’s see if we can get this rut over quickly then, just in case.”

I shake my head at her front of nonchalance, but agree wholeheartedly. “Can’t argue with that.”

*

They pull into the driveway two days later, dragging the impala behind them in Bobby’s truck. And they’re not alone. Cas and Meg ride in on the bed of the truck, presumably because they couldn’t be killed by something as inconsequential as an accident. And there’s Charlie, who I’ve only really talked to on the phone, looking a little dazed, but enthusiastically climbing out of the cab to shake hands with Y/N and me. Both Bobby and Dean look like they haven’t slept in days, and Dean’s got a shiner and his new coat is still covered in Leviathan juice.

“So?”

“We got him, Sammy. Dick’s dead. They’re all gone.”

“What, seriously? How?!”

“Bone of a nun, straight to the neck,” Dean gestures and grins, wagging his eyebrows. “I stuck it to ‘em.”

Our Omega, having enough of Dean’s antics, pulls him in for a proper scenting, opening his jacket and looking him over as he rests his hands on her hips, widening his stance so he is low enough to look her in the eye. “I’m fine, honey, really.”

“Tell me everything, from the beginning, like how you ran out on us without any way of knowing where you were!” She fumes, shaking him by the collar and pushes him away. Dean barely has to step back to withstand the weak force of her shove. He sighs and rolls his neck to look at me for back up. I hold up my hands and claim no loyalty in this spat.

He flips me off.

“Look, Sammy needed you here and, well, we got word it was time to move on the head honcho, so we took it.”

“What happened to Baby?”

Meg spoke up for the first time, husky voice deliberately unmussed. “That would be me. Drove her through their little glass welcome screen. Lucky me, I got to be a diversion.”

The story slowly unravels, Charlie sneaking Dean and Cas in. Cas identifying the real Dick Roman or the head chomper wearing his face. Saving the prophet Kevin, who they somehow lost when Crowley stepped in to help. And Cas flying Dean out of the blast zone just in time before the Leviathans got literally sucked back into Purgatory.

“So, uh, we’ve still got some clean up to do. Finding the kid. But I think —” Bobby explains before he gets cut off by Cas.

“We did good.”

“You’re damn right we did,” Dean agrees, holding hands with the mother of our children as we all drink and eat around the large banquet table Bobby built for us.

I can’t believe it’s over. “Well, Crowley can’t be too hard to get a lead on. We’ll get Kevin back to his mom.”

And just like that the mood turns sober. Before long, Bobby and Y/N take Charlie back to his house to help get a room ready for her to crash in until she gets her next move figured out. Which leaves Meg, Cas, Dean and I continuing to sip our drinks and shoot the shit.

“Look at you Winchesters, properly domesticated and everything,” Meg teased, eyeing the beams above her head and taking in the quality of Dean and Bobby’s craftsmanship.

“I know, right?” I agree, unable to stop the heat that burns across my cheeks.

“Awww, it’s okay, Sam. Maybe we all deserve a little bit of happiness this side of the apocalypse,” Meg says to Cas more than anyone. Cas, who had been eerily quiet, suddenly looks up and they lock eyes with something earnest and maybe a little dirty passing between them.

I clear my throat before Dean gets offended, because he’s already weirded out that we broke the warding for Meg. “You guys have any plans? Cas, any word from Daphne?”

“Uh, no, unfortunately when I didn’t return promptly from my first visit, she slowly realized that my abilities couldn’t be the claim to fame she was seeking. So, we parted ways and as I couldn’t be legally married as I don’t exist as a citizen, we didn’t really have to annul anything.”

“Heartbreaker,” Meg taunts.

“Wow, that’s good, Cas. I guess. One less loose end,” Dean agrees.

“I know you’ve been hanging out with Bobby a lot, thinking about sticking around? The more the merrier, right Dean?” I ask pointedly.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. I need to talk to Heaven, see if I can begin to atone. But it would be nice to have a homebase of sorts on Earth,” Castiel replies almost shyly.

“Well, you know where to find us, man. Because until those pups are out and until they’re walking, we’ve got one job to do,” Dean says and it all hits me. We don’t have to keep hunting. Sure, we can, but we don’t have to. We can have a life. Bobby will put us to work and we’ll do what we can for money, but once Kevin is safe. We’re just gonna be dads.

It’s unreal.

DEAN

It’s been two weeks since we took down Dick and yet Meg and Cas and hell, even Charlie have stuck around. Though Bobby won’t let Meg in his house, considering she tried to kill him at least once. But at this point, who hasn’t she tried to kill?

Charlie’s fascinated with all things hunting and the demon-angel team up sounds like something out of one of her video games so she can’t stop asking questions. Bobby’s actually having a lot of fun having her around, think she’s growing on the old bastard by sheer earnestness. And there’s our Omega, who is about fit to burst. She’s gone through the babies’ room everyday trying to figure out what we forgot, what we’re missing. 

Her waddling around like that makes me stupid and proud, but also just so damn happy that I start putting my foot in my mouth because it all seems too good to be true. Sam hates it when I piss her off, but it’s not like it’s intentional. I just can’t leave well enough alone.

The current argument is over names. Because everybody’s healthy in there, so we start getting serious about these pups we’re gonna meet any day now.

“Do not say John again— I will smack you,” Y/N growls.

“Dean, yeah, man, come on,” of course Sam agrees with her.

I know my dad’s name comes with a lot of baggage, but I still miss the son of a bitch anyway. Just not quite why she’s got such a vendetta against it, it’s a classic name. 

I grumble and concede this time. “Okay, fine, what do you like?”

“Jasper or maybe Jeremiah,” she replies, not bothering to look up from her little notebook that she has them all listed out on.

“Can we stay away from Pop culture names? Jasper is really popular lately,” Sam asks delicately, because yeah, we’re not doing the vampire name game, but still I hold my breath waiting for her to explode.

She sighs and crosses it off the list.

I see how tired she is and rub her knee under the table. “How about we go back to the girls’ names? Huh? Maybe if we get a small enough pool, we can narrow down the boy’s name better.”

We discuss names for another hour. Nobody agrees on any three names. But there’s some progress. Sort of.

Sam makes fajitas and I go and find Cas, even though he doesn't eat, gotta let everybody know it’s dinner time. He’s standing in one of the fields that I’m pretty sure don’t belong to Bobby, but I’m not about to go tattling either.

“Hey, man, soup’s on.”

Cas turns on me, all squinty eyed and concerned. “Hello, Dean.”

“Can you grab Meg and tell her to wash up for dinner? Sam says it will be ready in a minute here. I’ll go tell Charlie and Bobby.”

He walks with me towards the main house, but something must be up because he’s extra quiet. Not like listening to the universe or angel radio quiet, just thoughtful. He doesn’t go looking for Meg and soon we are stomping up the back steps in through Bobby’s kitchen.

“Dean? How did you know you were ready to take a mate?” Cas' question comes out of left field, but it also makes a lot of sense with the way he’s been acting.

“Uh— I don’t think I was ready, man. I mean, look at us, we kind of fucked things up before we really got it right. Why?”

“I also seemed to have—- fucked things up. When I lost my memories— with Daphne. But I realize now that I probably wouldn’t be able to make a human mate happy.” Cas looks up at me with a wavering dare in his eyes.

“Oh, shit!” I can’t believe he means—

“Don’t tell Sam, not yet. I just have begun thinking about pursuing her.”

“Yeah, man, I get it. But what about making amends with Heaven? A demon mate can’t be too far down on the No-No list.”

“Mating in general is considered beneath us, Dean.”

I can’t help the heat of shame that rises up, gaping at my best friend like a middle schooler during health class. But Cas has been in the trenches with us mud monkeys long enough, I guess I had forgotten just how holy he was. Maybe it’s also because we’re standing in Bobby’s too small kitchen and I can feel the old man’s eyes on me like an overzealous librarian.

“You got a reason for busting in here with your locker room talk or just felt the need to make everyone else uncomfortable?” Bobby glares at me then looks at Charlie who just waves innocently.

“Uh, food?” I swallow and try again. “Dinner’s ready.”

By a fucking miracle, we all make it to our place without more oversharing on anybody’s part.

*

Everything is so loud, but it’s like background loud, sitting next to a horror movie showing loud. Which is fitting, because there’s a lot of blood. And it’s getting harder to see, but I can’t do anything about it because my hands are full.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m your dad— one of ‘em anyway.” I swear she turns and looks at me, like she knows the sound of my voice. But her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s still screaming. And I’m crying worse than she is, because she’s here and she’s healthy and Y/N is a fucking miracle worker. She’s perfect. 

They’re all perfect.

Sam’s got the boy while the doctors clean up his little girl. She had a cord wrapped around her neck, but they could see everything once they got in there, so she’s fine. Sophia. That’s the name Sam and Y/N picked for her. Wisdom. It fits. 

I’m bouncing Joni, trying to get her to calm down as they put our Omega back together again. I walk over to where her face is behind the curtain, show her how amazing she is. How awesome our pup is. Pups are.

“Hey, Mama,” I can’t keep the tease out of my voice, I’m just so fucking happy. “Somebody wants to say hi.”

“Hi!” She sobs out, reaching as best she can with her arms pinned down to kiss a tiny forehead. 

The nurses clear some room on her chest, get her arms free so she can hold her, skin-to-skin they say. Once I know she’s got Joni good, I go and see how Sophie’s doing. Her cry is reedy, softer than her sister’s but still breaks my heart wide open. Once the nurse says I can, I scoop her up and hold her tight against my shoulder, whispering to her as we bounce-step over to her mom. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, we had to give Mama a minute. But now we’ve got you. Everybody’s safe.” I tell her as much as myself. I lock eyes with Sam as he is scenting Jimmy’s dark head. Leave it to our son to come out with a full head of hair. 

He’s not talking, but I can tell Sam’s just as much a mess as I am. I walk over and show off Sophie and he hands me our boy in exchange. He’s all wide eyed and looking around at everybody. Never seen a baby so alert. But I’m guessing that will change. These three are gonna put us all through the ringer— fill our lives with the new and the unknown.

It’s mesmerizing. And terrifying.

It’s a long time before they move us into a family room, they don’t even let us carry them down the hall. Instead we have three little plastic boxes on wheels that we push, along with a nurse, behind Y/N’s gurney. They help her figure out how to feed them. And I know Sam’s listening to all the technical crap about latching and pumping. 

But I am just amazed at her, exhausted as she is, cooing down at our pups as they nurse. Joni’s the smallest, but they all made it long enough to not have to worry about being hooked up to anything. Which I am gonna call Cas out on later, because the odds were near impossible on avoiding a NICU stay with triplets, but somehow we managed it.

Joni and Jimmy have been burped and are sleeping in their little blanket burritos tucked into a single bassinet. They’re used to close quarters and I can already tell they’re better together than apart. Sophie sleeps against Y/N chest, too tired from being born to really eat yet, but the nurse says it’s normal. Sam grabbed a shower and eventually Y/N will get a turn, but she’s got to worry about all the stitches and staples, so it might be just sponge baths for a few days.

I try not to get excited about helping her with those. 

We’ve got a lot more things to worry about now. And that kind of thinking got us here in the first place. I lose the last layer of scrubs and  leave the bathroom door open so I can hear them if they need me, if a nurse catches a peek, who cares at this point. Finally, we’re all clean and wedged on her bed, a baby a piece and everything quiets down. We shift and scent and just exist together for the first time, all six of us. God, it’s a whole pack now. We’re a real family.

Nothing will ever be better than this.

Five Years Later

Bobby

If I wasn’t already losing my hearing, the shrieking coming out of the backseat would have done it. I pull up to the drive in and wait for the carhop to come and take our orders. Don’t tell Rufus, but this minivan handles pretty damn well.

“Grandpa? Can I have poppers?” Joni asks like it’s normal for a little girl to be ordering deep fried peppers.

“No, doll, we’re having dinner at home. This is just a quick treat, but don’t go telling on me. Your dad will be all whiney about ruining your dinner and your daddy will be mad we didn't bring him home anything.”

They all giggle. 

The waitress taps on my window and I tell her, “four rootbeer floats please. Extra napkins if you got ‘em.”

“Sure thing, hun. That’ll be eighteen eighty.”

I give her a twenty and a couple of singles, waving away the offer of change.

“Thanks, it’ll be right up.”

I can feel them all fidgeting in their little booster seats, so I turn around and unbuckle myself to talk to them better. “You have fun today?”

Sophie’s staring out the window and hugging her little ratty stuffed rabbit. But she smiles and nods. Joni and Jimmy are both bellowing, trying to be louder than the other. “Yes! It was so fun!”

“Good.” I say, trying not to get too pleased with myself.

The mugs arrive and the pups are sticky from head to toe by the time we hand them back to the carhop, mostly empty. The extra napkins get wadded up and shoved into a grocery bag Y/N keeps on a little hook in here. Shoulda grabbed some baby wipes before we left. Friggin’ evidence is gonna get us all in trouble.

I check that their belts are tight and that Jimmy can reach both of his sisters’ hands if he needs to. Once we’re all set for the drive home, Sophie’s already nodding off. Then Jimmy conks out. Silly Miss Joni singsongs herself to sleep just as I’m pulling into the driveway. It’s nice out. We’ll leave them in there with the windows down until they wake up. With three of ‘em we’ve learned to pick our battles.

And the fresh air and afternoon sunshine will be a better way to wake up than yanking them out of their seats only to try and force them back to sleep after a fright and a carry upstairs.

I let myself in and hang up the van keys by the rest of them. Somebody’s in the library and somebody's snoring upstairs. I go warn Sam to finish his chapter outside on the porch and then make my way back to my place. I pass Charlie’s little trailer and don’t bother to knock, she’s hunting with Jody and the girls this week, but make sure she didn’t leave any lights on.

Cas and Meg’s place is aways in the back, more of a house than a barn, since we did it from the ground up. But it suits them, as much as they come and go. Then there’s Garth and Bess, never figured I’d have nearly a full set of monsters for neighbors, but life is nothing if not surprising. They’re expecting their first pup in a couple of months. I’ve been working on fixing up an old conversion van for them, but parts take forever. It’s funny, never saw that dipshit so normal as he is as a werewolf.

Kevin stops by from time to time, but that’s between research positions. He graduated from college and is working on a doctorate already. His mother calls me once a month whether I’ve heard from him or not. I don’t hate the check ins. 

The birthday party is tomorrow, giving everybody more time to make it in.

I can’t believe the kids are already five. Starting school next fall and everything. It makes me feel every inch a grandpa. Because I remember when Sam was that size and now he’s got his own to worry over. It’s been years, but it feels like yesterday. I check that the gifts I have tucked away for them are still safely hidden, because the rascals are curious little things. Had to move the Christmas presents to Jody’s after last year, got into them a whole week before I even had my tree up.

*

“Okay, time! Time. Sophie, it’s Jimmy’s turn,” Dean braves the terribly aimed swings of the old broom and catches it before she swipes into the snack table. Jimmy’s been waiting with his blindfold looped around his neck. The crepe paper donkey is swinging idly where Y/N holds the rope over the branch.

Everyone here knows this is going to take awhile. But without any other kids in line, we’re gonna let them have their fun.

“Good job Sophia!” Cas calls through his hands. She peeks out of her blindfold and groans at the fully intact pinata.

“Jimmy! Whack it good!” Joni crows and everyone cheers along with her. Sam collects Sophie’s blindfold and ties it around Joni’s neck as she waits for her turn. Sophie slumps over and leans against me like she’s run a marathon.

I don’t bother asking her what’s wrong, she’s a pouter, but she’s not showy about it. She thinks she didn’t do a good enough job, so I’m just gonna hold her while she watches her brother fall over himself missing the moving target too. Joni gets a good couple thwacks in, but the dumb donkey’s still holding all the candy when Dean decides it’s his turn.

“Now you watch, your daddy isn’t gonna be able to get it either.” And bless her, Y/N kept that pinata out of Dean’s reach the entire two minutes we gave him. Then it became a taunting exercise between the adults. After enough of them had laughed themselves stupid, I stood up, setting Sophie down gently. 

“Alright, idjits, it’s time for sudden death. No blindfolds, only spinning and let the birthday pups get their candy.” Being the pack elder has its perks and times like this is one of them.

Joni teeters over with laughter as she swings. She catches the rope around the broom handle and pulls the whole thing down with little resistance from Y/N’s grip. She beats the cardboard animal within an inch of recognition and finally a hole caves in and the other two pounce in for the candy as soon as the weapon is out of play.  Dean hands it over their heads to Sam. 

Jimmy keeps trying to stuff candy in his pockets, but they’re too full and he’s losing more than he’s saving, meanwhile the girls just use their shirts like aprons. We are all bent over in tears, but the kids have their haul and nobody is gonna forget this party. Between Jody’s pictures and Meg’s recording on her phone, we’ll be able to bring it up for blackmail in the future.

Dean grabs the last handful of candy out of the carcass before he tosses it on the woodpile for next burning day. He doesn’t share, figures.

“Alright, before you go on about singing and cake, I’m handing out my gifts first,” I announce. “Over here you rascals.”

I march across the yard and head to a little strip of grass along the tree line. The kids are racing after me, I can hear their mother yelling at them to be careful since they’re in their nice clothes for the party.

But it’s an outdoor party and she should have known better, if you ask me.

I stop beside a big lump of canvas and wait for their little legs to catch up. I look down at them and give them the rules. “You have to take turns. You cannot cut in front of each other. And you do not use these on one another either, ya hear me?”

“Yes, Grandpa.” Three little voices nod, half listening half wiggling with excitement.

“Okay.” I pull the cloth off the target and step back hiding the packages behind my back.

“Ooooooo!”

“A target?”

“Are we shooting it?”

“No, guns are for grown ups. But if you get good, maybe you can hit it with one of these.” I fan out the bundles in front of me, letting them each pick one. Sam’s close now, eyeing me and I know what he’s thinking. But it’s not about hunting, not that kind of hunting at least. He grabs up the wrapping paper as the kids shred it to pieces to keep it from blowing away and becoming litter.

“A bow and a quiver!” Jimmy exclaims.

“I’m gonna be the Green Arrow!” Joni declares.

“I’m Huntress,” Sophie decides.

“I’m gonna be Hawk-guy.” Jimmy finally adds after much thought.

Dean chuckles. But Charlie calls over, “It’s Hawkeye, buddy.”

“Right. Hawkeye. I didn’t know that one either,” Y/N adds, shrugging.

I get them for the next hour, showing them how to crook the bow, and notch the arrow. They listen better for me than anybody, but seeing them this hooked on my every word made my damn month. They’re naturals, even if they don’t have the arm strength yet. We let them shoot from ten feet. Then finally Garth and Charlie convince them it’s time for cake.

I let it go. Because I know I will have them crawling through my backdoor everyday until they’re pros. It’s a selfish gift, but it’s an even trade. Let their parents off the hook about preparing them for everything out there, while giving me an excuse to spend more time with them. When they’re old enough we’ll go after turkeys for Thanksgiving, not wendigos or vampires.

They’ll have the skills and none of the burden their folks had at their age. 

I nod at Y/N as she sets three mini cakes down on the table, letting them each blow out a matching number five. She’s a good mom and I can’t help but be a little proud about that fact. She’s not mine, but she always had a piece of my heart. Then there’s those two knuckleheads that somehow manage to keep her healthy, happy and safe. I couldn’t hope for any better for any of them. And I’m just grateful I’m still around to see it all happen.

Tell me what you think?

Tagging:  @idreamofdeanie​​​ @stoneyggirl2 @delightfullykrispypeach​​​    @dolphincliffs​​​ @flamencodiva​​​ @crashdevlin​​​ @dontshootmespence​​​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​​​  @rockhoochie​​​ @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis​​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​​ @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @defenderrosetyler​​​ @ericaprice2008  @wingedcatninja​​​ @akshi8278 @itmighthavebeenintentional​​​ @smi727​ @princessmisery666​​ @impalaslytherin​​

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [9]

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

Words: 13,975

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, mentions of canon violence, canon drug use, mentions of death, canon grave digging??

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: The way I rewrote the beginning of this like 4 times skjdhfsjk Again, I'm really sorry I left you guys on a cliffhanger lmao I really thought I'd have it done and then did not lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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“Please, don’t be mad.”

His voice. You would know that voice anywhere and you freeze. Your heart feels like it’s just plummented to streets below you because it can’t be him. It’s your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be because he’s dead. You know for a fact he’s dead. This is some cruel joke he’s playing, somehow.

Maybe you really did piss him off. If he has your phone number and knew you’d meet him here, in uniform, maybe he knows more. Maybe he knows Jason was Robin and you were together. Your social media feeds were consumed with each other. It was obvious. Maybe that’s what this is. Some mind game as payback for going after someone he wanted to kill himself or someone he wanted to recruit for his new crime family. It has to be. Because Jason Todd is dead.

You look over at him slowly, seeing the green eyes that haunt you in your dreams now. There’s the mark near his left eye he’s had since you met. You memorized where the few freckles are and they match on Red Hood. He’s the same height as Jason. His brows are knitted together in the same way Jason always did when he was thinking and pleading with you for something. The only difference is his hair. Jason doesn’t have a white streak. So, it can’t be him. He’s dead.

You move away from him quickly, putting your hand out in front of you as it glows neon green. You gain a scowl as you clench your jaw. Not him.

“Tell me who the fuck you are before I melt your sorry ass!” You yell at him. You don’t care what he’s capable of. If Red Hood wants to play this game, you’ll play right back and you’ll go down swinging. It’s not a joke and it’s just cruel.

Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully. He knew you wouldn’t believe him. You're smart. You're going to make sure he’s real. But it hurts anyway.

“It’s me.” Jason states holding the helmet on his hip. “I swear, alright? It’s me.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes grow warm and the tip of your nose warm. Your eyes start to water and it’s actually embarrassing. You can’t actually stand here ready to kill him while crying. Whatever his endgame is, he has to be winning because your hand starts to shake and you swear it’s not him.

“No…because I-I…no.” Your words are rugged and breathy. “I found him.” You mutter through gritted teeth. “He’s dead.” You suck in a breath, keeping your stare on him. “You’re. Not. Him.”

You know it can’t be him because that’s not possible. It’s not possible that someone can die and come back to life. Bruce had an autopsy performed even. Even if there was a way, there was an autopsy. How can someone come back from that? You read the report, you saw the pictures. That is real. Can he survive being bludgeoned with a crowbar and then being embalmed? That doesn’t make any fucking sense. And if he were really Jason, why wouldn’t he come to you as soon as he comes back to life? Why would he become Red Hood first? Why would he go to Molly first? You saw him, cold and pale and lifeless with autopsy scars on a slab. This isn’t Jason.

Jason’s heart drops because you never should have been the one to find him. He knew you would. Jason remembers every thought he had before everything went black and he remembers knowing you’d come because you’d always come to find him. But, he was really, really hoping he was wrong and it was anyone else. It just had to be you. Jason doesn’t know what the damage was but he has a pretty good guess it was pretty ugly and mortifying. It wasn’t enough that he literally died, but it had to be you to fucking find him.

And his heart breaks with the look you're giving him because you've always trusted him. But right now, just by the scowl and vibrancy of the green of your hand, he knows you don’t. You have to believe him. You have to.

“I gave you a necklace.” Jason states, looking to your neck that’s covered with the suit. “Infinity symbol, because it’s you and me. There’s a tracking device in it because you have a habit of getting kidnapped.” Jason nods at you once as he manages his signature smirk. “You’re probably still wearing it because you never took it off since the night of the gala.” Jason gestures a hand towards you lazily and you swear the necklace starts burning your neck. “You picked out the hood for your suit. And you were always afraid of heights but grappling around the city has apparently helped you get over it. I have a favorite gargoyle. You and Bruce are the only two who know that.” Jason tries to think of other things only him and you would know. He remembers everything but it has to be specific because just anything is never going to fly with you.

You pause and you think Jason has to be the only one who would know all of that. Anyone would know about the necklace but not the reason or the tracking device. You never even told Molly why he gave it to you. You always said it was just something nice he did. No one would know you picked out your hood besides Bruce and Gar. And the gargoyle thing is so damn odd that no one would even think of that. But he did. But it can’t be him. How can it be him?

“My favorite meal is pot roast which I taught you to make the same day you taught me scrapbooking stuff. My page was about Robin, of course, it was, right?” Jason shakes his head as he scoffs. The name of Robin is almost sour on his lips now. “Pride and Prejudice is my favorite book and I really like West Side Story, it was our second date that you planned.” Jason takes a step forward with a sigh and you keep your footing as your hand lowers just a little. “Krypto is your best friend even though he’s a dog. You like Excellent Gothsm which I think you like going to because you suck at making friends but you think Tim is cool.” Jason grins at you as you glare at him in the way you always did when he was saying something just to get under your skin. “Hey, you said that yourself.” Jason chuckles softly, looking to the ground and your face softens just slightly. He always did that. “I dumped a bucket of ice water on you once, back in San Francisco.” Jason lets out this laugh and he can’t see it, but it gets you to smile under your mask. That’s definitely his laugh because it’s booming and it echoes over the roof.

“Asshole.” You mutter as Jason watches the glowing start to fade.

“You ate the rest of my food! On purpose!” He laughs and there’s this light in his eyes as he gives you this teasing grin. The one he always gave you right before you caved.

“I thought it would be funny.” You lower your hand. “And it was.” The venom in your voice is gone.

“Yeah, sure it was.” Jason sucks in a breath.

Your face softens as you take off your mask and Jason sucks in a deep breath. He waits, nearly wanting to jump out of his own skin. He knows you're running every possibility through your head, just to be sure. He has to wait for you to land on this to be real and true. But it’s agonizing and he can’t breathe as he waits. But as he waits, he can see the disbelieve and what he swears was hatred, dissolve from the lines on your face. Your brows knit together as your eyes start to water.

“Jay?” Your voice trembles through the space between you.

Jason nods softly. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You suck in a breath and run the distance between you. You slam into him with a force as your arms wrap around his neck and this time, without hesitation, Jason’s arms wrap around your middle. He holds you as close to him as possible as his eyes close. You smell like his body wash and shampoo and he can’t help but smile. Of course, you do.

It’s unbelievable. You have no idea how it’s possible but it has to be him. No one else would be able to know all of that. You and Jason always kept so much close to your chests when it came to the two of you, you know he didn’t tell anyone. He wouldn’t. It has to be him and you're relieved. You're wrapped in his arms again and it’s like you've been sucked back home in an instant.

It's relief that hits Jason like a freight train. It's firm and hard but comforting. An easy breath of air leaves his lungs and it's as if he hasn't been able to take a full breath since coming back, not until now. Your arms are wrapped around his neck so right he thinks you might strangle him and it feels good. He was so scared you'd punch him and tell him off and leave. He died and a really big part of him, thinks you should do all of those things. But, you don't and Jason is just happy to have you with him, if just for this moment.

Jason pulls down your hood to get you to look at him and the second you do, one of his hands comes up the back of your head and he brings your lips to his. His hand tangles in your hair and he keeps his other wrapped as tightly as he can as if he were to let go for even a second, he'd wake up to relive another nightmare. 

Your mouths move together almost carefully at first before it grows sloppy and almost desperate. You slide your hands into the curls at the nape of his neck and you think nothing, right now matters. You can exist right here on this rooftop just like this with him. If you stay like this, nothing can happen. Nothing bad can happen again if you can just stay like this. You beg and plead with the universe to just freeze time but the universe never seems to listen to your pleas.

"I'm so sorry." Jason mutters against your lips, his breath heaving but he keeps his lips just hovering above yours as if he's terrified to move.

You're the one that pulls away to get a good look at him. "W-what...I--" You shake your head and Jason's heart sinks as he feels your arms loosen around his neck. "You died." You chew the inside of your cheek. "H-how?"

“Lazarus Pit.” Jason states. “I don’t know how it works but I was put in it and came out alive.”

Jason knows he can’t tell you much. If he tells you what’s going on, it’ll complicate things a little. Crane already doesn’t trust you. And Jason knows that. Jason also knows you’ll lose your mind if you find out what he’s doing, the whole story. He knows he can’t tell you. Not until the time is right but you, at the very fucking least, deserve to know he’s alive and how. The Titans will find out eventually anyway and none of them could go back and tell you. You’d never forgive him.

If this were any other city, you would say that were a load of shit. But this is Gotham where the impossible always seems possible in the most fucked up ways. It’s just a normal thing here. Acid creating whatever fuck the Joker was. That same acid turning Harley Quinn into whatever she is now that’s actually nothing like the Joker. Poison Ivy accidentally spilling a chemical and turning into what she is now. Insane scientists that torment the city with magic tricks and fear gas. Maybe Lazuaus Pit makes sense.

“Lazarus Pit.” You nod your head once. “That tracks.” You let out a sigh.

“Yeah.” A forced chuckle leaves Jason’s lips as he drops his hand from your hair and moves it to your waist.

“Who put you in it then?” You ask as your hands find their way to his biceps and there's a trickling of anger starting to drip into your stomach.

You're thrilled and relieved he's alive and he's real. But, you're also smack in the middle of grieving him. Now, he's suddenly alive and it's not like he just walked into the manor one day. He's been out here being Red Hood for days and you're just now finding out about it. The relief of him being alive is still throbbing with your heart but there's an anger that's there, moving in slowly. It's as if your body is so used to being mad at the entire world or absolutely miserable that it doesn't know what to do right now. And you think you might be getting whiplash from the emotions. It’s like you go numb as your body sorts through which emotion it wants to land on like some sick arcade game.

Jason shakes his head, knowing this is about to go south. “I can’t tell you.” Jason answers honestly.

That simple sentence of keeping you in the dark, lets your brain settle on anger. He died and you don't even get an explanation as to who brought him back? 

You let out this hollowed version of a laugh as you nod your head and you take a step back from him. Jason's hands nearly linger in the air and he swears this is going to be bad. “Oh, okay.” You quip. “So, you get to come back from the fucking dead and just not tell me shit!? That’s how is going to go?” You yell at him. Anger seems to be the easy default emotion lately. But, this time, it gets to be at the person causing it even if it’s not his fault.

There were several reasons Jason didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want you involved being high up on that list. He knows you better than anyone and he knows you're gonna dig. You're going to dig until you get answers and he knows Crane won’t like that. You’ll figure it out. If you figure it out, you’ll be in danger. He doesn’t know what Crane is going to do or want him to do if you figure it out. There’s also the guilt of it all that’s chewing at him.

He feels guilty now. Now that he isn’t high. He feels guilty that he left you alone. And he knew you would probably yell at him. He deserves it but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear it. It hurts him to see you like this. To see you clearly wanting to walk away from this. To walk away from him. He wanted to avoid it all. But that’s not fair and he misses you. And he feels guilty that he’s been lying to you and has to keep lying. None of it is fair to you and you've always been the one person he can trust. You've always been the one person who offers him understanding even when you shouldn’t. But, it’ll keep you safe and at arm’s length and he knows that. It has to be like that until it’s safe. Your safety is still one of his priorities, even when he’s high. That doesn’t change.

“Look, there’s a plan, okay?” Jason sucks in a shaky breath. “I just can’t—“

“Do you think I give a flying fuck about a plan right now!?” You scream back and you know you're angry and that’s not fair either.

But it fucking hurts. It hurts so bad that you just need to scream. You need to scream at the one person who has caused you to hurt this badly and that's him. He died. He died and left you here alone to deal with it all alone. He made a stupid decision and it got him killed. He fucking knew better and he died anyway. And you're pissed about it. But, you stop yourself there because everything you want to say seems cruel. It all seems too cruel to say and it's just the emotions getting in the way because you know you don't mean any of it. And what if it's enough to get him to leave and he dies permanently? You can't say what you're thinking out of fear he won't come back again. You have to bite it down as tears brim your eyes.

"It's fucking dangerous, alright?" Jason pleads with you as he watches the tears wet your cheeks. He never meant to hurt you. Not you. "I don't want you involved."

"And I just have to accept that?" Your voice cracks.

"Yeah." Jason nods softly.

Jason is begging for that to be enough. It should be. It should be enough and it would have been had he not died. You would have blindly trusted everything that came out of his mouth but then he died. And you don't anymore. That changed things.

He says this is dangerous and expects you to just trust him with something dangerous again. The last time he did something dangerous, he got a crowbar to the face by a maniac. It's as if that doesn't matter to him. That it doesn't matter to him that it matters to you. You can't handle being in the dark. Not again.

"Well, that's bullshit!" You yell so loudly it echoes over the rooftop. "You died!" You let out a cry. "You died and you're back! I deserve an explanation!" You throw your arm out to the side.

Jason steps forward, trying to close the distance between you again, wanting so desperately to pull you into him. "I know." He nods and the only reason he doesn't grab you is because he's worried you might lose it entirely. "You have to believe me, okay? I told you when I could."

"That's not fucking fair, Jason!" You bark, your hands balling at your sides as they start to shake with some lethal combination of anger and heartbreak. "You get to come back and be Red Hood and I just have to be okay!? You went to fucking Molly before you came to me! You fucking left me!" Your voice cracks as your heart thunders desperately against your ribcage.

He knew. He always knew one of you wouldn't come home and it would destroy whoever was left in the wake of your death. And he always figured it would be him because of his recklessness. But a part of him wondered if it would be you since the universe loves to torture him. But of course, it would be him because dying broke you. And you breaking breaks him.

"I know it fucking sucks, alright?" Jason raises his voice swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know! I'm cleaning up Gotham, alright? That's what's going on. I found Diego and had to bring him to her, that's all! I'm so fucking sorry." There's desperation in his voice.

"Sorry doesn't fucking fix it, Jason!" You suck in a shaky breath as your heart breaks further. Why does it hurt so bad when he's alive? It shouldn't still hurt but it does. "It doesn't fucking fix it!" You let out a cry as your nose scrunches.

Sorry doesn't make the last six days suddenly disappear from your memory. Sorry doesn't make it feel any better. Sorry fixes nothing because you still found his dead body. Sorry fixes nothing because it's just a fucking word and your heart hurts and everything hurts.

"I know." Jason lowers his voice. "I know, alright? Just--"

"No, you don't!" You step forward and push his chest, every emotion flooding your system to the point it just needs somewhere to go. "You died!" You let out a wail as you shove him again, harder this time as he takes a step back. "It destroyed me!" You shove him again but it's weaker this time. "It destroyed me." Your voice lowers as you rest your fists on his chest. "You died and it destroyed me and I had to fucking find you and I tried! I tried to save you!" You hit your fist on his chest. "I tried and it didn't fucking do anything because you were already dead! It's been fucking hell! It hurts and I can't sleep and I can't eat and I can't stop fucking crying and Gar will get me to laugh and I feel guilty. And I feel fucking guilty I missed it! Because you had this stupid fucking idea to go after the fucking Joker on your own! If you wanted to prove something, fuck! Take me with you, Jason!" You hit his chest again as you look up at him. "I would have gone with you!" You shake your head as tears fall down your cheeks. " You shove him again. "You fucking left me!" You shove him again but this time, he grabs your wrists as you let out a sob. "You left me." You let out a weak whine.

Jason's eyes glass over and he is so sorry. There should be another word stronger than sorry because even that doesn't feel right. He feels so guilty and he doesn't think he'll ever not feel guilty over it. He swears he'll always feel this heaviness in his chest, a burning pain where your name is still stitched into the flesh. The Joker murdered him brutally and he's the one that feels guilty and at fault because you're right. He shouldn't have gone and he should have told you. But, that wasn't the plan and this was his to prove, not yours. It was always about him with that one. It should have been his. And he's so fucking sorry.

"I know." Jason nods as he feels your arms relax in his hands. "I fucking know and I-I don't know." Jason shrugs as he drops your wrists. "I'm fucking sorry."

Your body shakes slightly as a silent cry escapes your lips. Jason knows he'll never be able to forgive himself for this one. He doesn't think either of you will come back from this. How could you? He might be alive but that doesn't change what it did to you. It doesn't change that he lied and is still lying to you. He always swore you deserved better and that thought has never been more true.

"I know." You nod softly and you're tired.

You rest your head against him sucking in a breath and you hate that you're even mad at him. You know it's not his fault. It's not his fault he was murdered. It was stupid, it was dumb. It got him killed but it's not his fault. The Joker was a maniac who took an opportunity. Jason got killed and that is not his fault and you know that. It's not fair to put the blame on him because you're mad but you just couldn't help it. It all just came out like a volcano long overdue for an eruption. You're just...hurt. By all of it. But, yelling at him, kind of helped a little bit and you can't stay mad. It was always something you were bad at and something Jasn was always really good at. You can't stay mad at him ever but especially now when he's alive. He's alive and you're happy he is. So, you bite down the hurt of everything as you look back up to him.

"I'm so sorry." Jason's voice cracks. "I never meant to....to die." Jason grits his teeth and that's part of why he likes the drug. He isn't haunted by that night when he takes it. He remembers everything.

"I know." Your voice is broken as you nod. "It's just...it's...it's so fucking hard, Jay." The use of his nickname fills this void in his heart. "And nothing helps." You put a hand to his face and he almost pulls away. "I really fucking miss you." Your thumb traces over his cheek and he misses you, too.

Jason places a hesitant hand over yours. "I'm alive, alright? I never meant for that shit to happen and I'm sorry I didn't fucking tell you. Please, believe me."

"Why didn't you?" You ask as you search his face for any answers while you drop your hand.

"I'm just fucking tired of the nightmares and shaky hands and being fucking scared." Jason lets out an annoyed scoff. "Robin isn't scared so I....I got some help." Jason shakes his head as you raise a brow. You hate the sound of that sentence. "And...I didn't want your help. I didn't want you to get dragged into it, alright?"

"I would have helped, Jay." You plead with him. "You could have told me. You know, you can tell me anything. I'm always on your side."

Jason knows. He knows but he also knew the risk all of this would take. If he told you he went to Crane for help, he thinks you'd leave, even now you'd probably leave. You're understanding but you have lines and Jason thinks Crane would be your line. Jason working with him. You would blame Crane for him dying and Jason is protecting him. At the end of the day, Crane is helping him with the drug and the city. Crane brought him back to life. Maybe he's not so bad but he can't tell you that. He knows he if tells you anything more, you'll probably leave and he can't lose you. And the idea of you being out there with him that night, nearly sends him into cardiac arrest. You'd be dead, too but Crane probably wouldn't have brought you back.

"I didn't want your help." Jason urges. "It wasn't your fucking problem, alright? I wanted to do it on my own."

You offer him a subtle nod as you sniffle. "We're supposed to be a team. Your problems are my problems, Jay. I know you're thinking it, you're not a burden to me." You plead with him to believe you. "But, I get it." You nod softly, chewing the inside of your cheek because you do understand him wanting to do it by himself. You get it. "Why can't you tell me now?"

Jason's heart skips with you saying he's not a burden because he swears if you only knew, you'd think differently. It's all too much. You say it's not a burden but your eyes are sunken in and there are dark bags under your eyes. Your eyes aren't crinkling at the edges and you lack the fire across your expression Jason always adored so much. This has been a burden. He hasn't even been around and he's been a burden anyway. But, he doesn't want to stand here and go back and forth about that. He can't stand here and do that.

Jason cautiously moves his hands to your hips and a part of him thinks you'll push him away but you don't. "I can't lose you." Jason states quietly.

Your brows knit together as if you're trying to hold back more tears. A shakey breath leaves your lungs and somehow, your chest feels heavier. "Yeah, but I lost you." You plead with him. "You're not gonna lose me, Jay." You shake your head. He wants to believe that so badly but if you only knew, you wouldn't be saying that.

"I won't risk it." Jason keeps his stance firm but his voice is still quiet and soft.

You still mean more to him than he'll ever be able to say out loud. He won't risk losing you, not to all of the shit that's going on. He doesn't know what he would do if he did.

You let out a sigh and decide to settle for the answer, seeing the look of desperation clouding his eyes. "Okay." You nod softly. "Then, what the fuck were you doing making a drug?" You ask him with exasperation but you watch him carefully. Jason isn't stupid, he knows how to cover his tracks if he wants to. If didn't want someone finding that formula, no one would have found it.

Jason's eyes dodge to the ground before coming to back yours. He left it out on purpose. He knew, despite the drug's false sense of confidence, there was a chance he wouldn't come back. Jason wanted you to know if he didn't make it back but by how you're asking, he can tell you didn't figure it out yet which is a relief.

"If you fucking tell me you can't tell me, I'm going to lose my shit." You blink at him.

"You found it?" Jason asks.

"No, Dick did. I was a little busy ya know, grieving you to be searching your room for clues. Dick was a detective, he wants answers, too. So, you wanna explain that or?"

Jason shakes his head and he can see you at the end of your rope. "I can't tell you." Jason scoffs.

"Fuck you." You huff back as Jason swears his heart is actively bleeding right through his ribs.

"It's to do with the plan." Jason states. "I can't tell you anything more--"

"Bullshit. You can and you're choosing not to. You can always trust me so it's bullshit. I don't--"

"No!" Jason yells back. "Because if I fucking tell you, you're going back to Dick and you're gonna tell him because you'll be fucking worried. You always worried too damn much! It'll ruin everything and I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do if they fucking find out you know!"

"Gee, I wonder why I worry so much, Jay." You quip. "Who the fuck is they?"

Jason's eyes go glossy and he can't do this. He can't do it. "Please, I can't fucking tell you."

"We're supposed to be a team. You and me."

"I know. I'm fucking sorry. I just can't. Please. You say you trust me so trust me." Jason's fingers dig into your hips with the plea.

You nod and you know he's sorry. He feels guilty and it's going to eat him. He doesn't deserve it and you think, the best thing you can do right now, is try to drop it a little bit for right now. You can come back to this.

"I forgive you, okay?" You roll your eyes. "And I'll drop it right now but we're definitely circling back to it. But, you have to tell me something, okay? I deserve that." You ask with hope in your eyes for the first time since he died.

He can give you that. He can give you something else to hold you off for a little while. That's fair. You forgive him for right now and it's him and you.

"I'm working with someone who has the same vision for the city. They got me into the pit and brought me back." Jason explains. "Ya know, taking out the big players and shit. They don't want anyone to know."

"So, you decided to be the face because?" You question with a raised brow. This is weird. Someone else wants to run the crime of the city, but it's too big of a risk for them to show their face but not for Jason to be handling all of it?

"I've got the training." Jason shrugs casually. "You trust me, right?" Jason asks.

"Of course." You nod as your words are slow. "But, it's weird and I think you know that."

"It is." Jason chuckles. "Just...trust me, babe. I got this, promise." Jason offers you his troubled grin as he squeezes your hips.

"That really is not as reassuring as you think it is, Jay." You offer him a grin but you decide to take it. You have to take what he's willing to give you right now but you're definitely digging into this one and you're gonna let Jason think you're letting it go. You don't want him to go off the deep end trying to cover more of his tracks. "Fine." You widen your eyes at him as Jason gives you a smirk. "Still mad at you."

Going back and forth isn't going to do either of you any good, especially since Jason is clearly going to keep everything a secret anyway. So, you decide, you'll dig later and you'll just let you both exist in this moment back together. You don't want him to have to go and it leave like this.

"Good." Jason nods quickly as you give him a fake scowl.

"Yeah, fuck you." You nearly laugh as you say it and the cold feeling in your chest starts to dethaw.

"Time and place, babe." Jason quips back and he has missed you so much.

"Fuck off." You shake your head as you look down and then back to him, looking at the streak of hair. "Are you okay? Ya know, ya died."

Jason nods. "Yeah, all good." Jason clears his throat. He watches you start to chew your cheek as your eyes scan over his face. The soft smile starts to fall short as he sees the distress start to take over and he knows. "I remember it, I know you want to ask."

"Yeah..." You nod and you swear you just swallowed your own heartbeat. "That's....fucked." You nod with wide eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, not your fucking fault. I'll be fine." Jason shakes his head and he desperately cannot talk about it. Not like this. He can already feel his hands start to grow clammy and cold. They're nearly vibrating against your suit. "Can we not..."

"Yeah." You smile softly as you run your fingers through his hair. You change the subject more light-hearted. "What's up with the hair?" You laugh softly as the white strands fall through your fingers.

Jason's eyes look up as the strands fall onto his forehead. "Fucking stupid, right?"

"I like it, actually. It looks good on you." You drop your hand, a smile splitting your face.

Jason's heart thunders against his ribs and he hasn't felt happy since coming back, not really. He's been a little busy getting things in motion for him and Crane. There was of course a weird relief and happiness of being alive but that was just immediately followed by guilt and anxiety, like he distrubed the forces of nature by coming back. The drug helps that fear, too. And it helps the guilt, a lot more than Jason really realized it would. But, he hasn't felt happy and he finds himself looking down at you and he feels a sense of happiness. It's different than before, but it's there like a small light hidden in the back of his heart.

"You think so?" Jason raises a brow at you.

"Yeah, of course." You laugh softly.

You know you need to have a longer discussion about everything. But, this small exchange about his hair feels normal. Maybe, instead of the back and forth about everything that's too heavy, shelving those things is better. For right now. It always worked that way with both of you anyway. Shelf it for a little bit and circle back. You always made more progress when you did that.

"I really missed you, Jay." Your smile starts to fall.

"I missed you, too, princess." Jason smirks and you roll your eyes. "How have you been holding up?" Jason asks cautionly and he's not really sure why he asked. He knows the answer.

You shake your head. "Gar told me he was worried Dick would have me committed. So, there was that. I told Bruce off finally. Babs did, too. Told off the Titans again. Burned down Jerry's old house."

Jason lets out a laugh. "I was being fucking sarcastic." Jason shakes his head. "Flame thrower?"

"I told Gar that's what you would say!" You laugh. "No, just acid and a few matches."

"Fuck." Jason lets out a sigh through a smile. "Wish I could've seen it."

"You would have loved it. It, uh, it burned to the ground. Gar wasn't too happy about it but uh, ya know, he let me do it."

"Why did you have Gar with you anyway?" Jason questions knowing damn well that would not have been your first choice to have him with you as you commit arson.

"Oh, he's my babysitter now." You roll your eyes.

"Why? What did you do?"

"I may have killed a guy yesterday and another one this morning, not sure if Dick knows about that one yet."

Jason's brows furrow before he quirks one up. "The fuck are you killing people for?" Jason's heart sinks and he didn't want her to have blood on her hands.

"Uh," You raise a brow. "You decapitated six people." You stare up at him and Jason nods his head. "Exactly. Which, by the fucking way, what the fuck? Don't tell me just...what the fuck?" You scrunch your face before shaking your head quickly. "Because they fucking suck. Guys like Pete Hawkins who you beat me to, by the way."

Jason laughs as his nose scrunches. "Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't know you were gonna start killing dickweeds."

"Good, you should be." You grin back. "Yeah, so, uh, Dick's mad about it and made Gar come with me and it was a whole thing. But, you have the Titans busy tonight so I didn't have to lose him like I did this morning."

Jason shakes his head and he has to ask. Jason knows where your moral compass was. You would have killed Jerry had he not stopped you and a part of him thinks you would have tried to kill Dr. Light if you were on your own. He knows you killed some of the men from CADMUS, in self-defense. But, you decided, after he died, to actually start killing so he has to ask.

"Are you doing that because of me?"

"Yes and no." You shrug. "You, me, Molly, Dick, Diego, all the others. For all of us. Like we talked about but uh, I'm just taking it a step further into permanent. What about you? Is that why you're going after who you are?"

As much as he didn't want you to have blood on your hands, he can't very well disagree. He gets it. He's still somehow surprised and not. And a part of him almost finds it a little amusing. He dies and comes back to clean up the city as Red Hood and from the top. Meanwhile, he dies and you decide to start killing the guys that don't make it to Bruce's radar.

"Kind of yeah." Jason nods. "Organized crime. Can't stop it completely but you can run it, control it from the top."

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, that's smart." You shake your head. "Better than nothing."

"Exactly." Jason chuckles.

"I'm really happy you're alive, Jay." You nod your head up at him before you brush his hands off of you and close the remaining distance between you, wrapping your arms around his middle.

You can feel him relax under you again and it's like it was before. He pauses for a few seconds and then wraps his arms around you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as you squeeze him and it feels like it's supposed to. It's not supposed to hurt. It's not supposed to be sad and heartbreaking and bitter and sour. It's supposed to be just him and you. The two of you together. And that's how you are on this rooftop. And Jason wants to be relieved because you're hugging him but he knows you shouldn't and he knows he needs to ask about sides. Titans are on his list. You're a Titan.

"Hey, uh," Jason clears his throat. "Are you working with the Titans?"

You pull away looking up at him with confusion. "No? Moral dispute situation and you're keeping them busy. Why?"

He can't tell you but he thinks if he tells you that one more time, you might punch him.

"Keep it that way." Jason states.

"Are you really going to target them? They're....they're your friends. Your family."

"They're gonna keep coming after me." Jason keeps it short and it's not a full lie.

"And if you told Dick you're alive, you know, he might actually understand, right? Like, he might fuck off. You're the reason the Titans are back. Red Hood."

"No." Jason scoffs as he shakes his head. "You know how Dick is with me."

"He's had your back since you died, Jay. And...he's been there for me, too. I mean, he's actually doing kind of a job at the whole leader thing right now. You should talk to him." You press softly.

"No." Jason shakes his head as his jaw squares and you find this to be weird. Jason doesn't talk about his feelings but he doesn't even have to. He should just show up. That's all it'll take. He has to know that. Doesn't he? "It'll be all about him being fucking right and doing better or whatever. It's not fucking worth it and I'm not going back to before."

"What does that mean?" You ask as your brows knit together in confusion. All you want to know is where the hell this is even coming from. They were fine before he died.

"Nothing. Just...don't work with them, alright?"

"You're not gonna tell them you're alive?" You question him as the pieces start to connect.

Jason shakes his head. "No and can you not tell them? Please."

"Jason, how the hell can you ask me to do that? Gar is your best friend. And you want me to go back to the manor, look your best friend and your bother in the eyes and not tell them you're alive?"

"Yeah." Jason nods once. "Look, it fucking sucks but if you tell Gar then you gotta tell everyone because Gar's face will give it away. Dick will tell everyone, too. This has to stay between us."

"But why? You're alive and that's a good thing in case you forgot? Like...Jay..."

"No, I know." Jason nods.

"You can't tell me?"

"No." Jason nods his head.

"You fucking suck." You let out a sigh. "Fine, but you better come clean with Gar and Molly soon. I can't lie to them for weeks. They'll hate me."

"I know." Jason nods quickly. "I'll tell them but not right now."

"Okay, Jay." You roll your eyes. "So, you're telling me not to work with the Titans. Can you give me some sort of a reason not to? I know, you can't tell me. But, come on, Jay. Give me something."

Jason pauses for a second, bouncing ideas in his head before he settles on one. "Think about it, if you work with them you have to go against me. And if you don't, they'll come after you, too. Don't want you in the middle of it." Jason explains and it's not a lie.

He really, truly, does not want you in the middle of it. You're the one who'd get hurt in all of it. But, it's also because Jason knows Crane is going to want more information on you. He didn't tell him nearly enough before he died and Jason doesn't want to. Instead, he'd rather assure Crane that you're not an issue because you're not working with the Titans, as loyalty to him.

"Alright." You let out a sigh. "That's...a good point." You know if it came down to it, if you really really needed to pick a side, it would be Jason's. And you do not want to do that. His reasoning is good enough for you. "Okay." You nod softly.

"Thank you."

"Mhm, ya owe me, Jaybird." You flash a grin at him.

"Anything for you." Jason's voice drops as his brows knit together and he offers you a sarcastic nod.

"Oh, is that so? Anything?" You give him a wild grin as you look at his lips.

"Anything, babe." Jason teases, dipping his head down slightly.

Your lips brush over his. "I'd really like Excellent Gotham right now actually."

Jason's head tilts back with a laugh. "It's not even that good!"

"It's the best! You have bad taste!" You laugh back.

"Shut up." Jason groans, cupping your face with one hand and bringing your lips to his.

Jason feels you smile against his lips and he gets this sense of home again. Your mouth moves with his and he feels like he's been sucked right back home. It's a warming feeling but then thoughts of the manor come back and Bruce and Robin and the Joker. Home doesn't feel the same anymore because he died and he let you and Bruce down. Home doesn't feel the same anymore because it's not safe there. Home isn't the same because Bruce didn't kill the Joker, not even for him. That's what Crane said and Jason knows Bruce's morals. Home isn't home because he's lying to you and he feels guilty. It all feels a little too heavy again. And he can't do it right now. So, he pulls away.

"I'm sorry." Jason shuts his eyes for a second and you feel your heart stop. Not again. "I-I gotta go." Jason swallows thickly.

"W-what? W-why?" You ask.

"I just do." Jason nods down at you and he's begging for you to forgive him. Jason presses a kiss to your forehead and backs away. Your entire body erupts in chills and he can't leave. Not again. "I'll call you." Jason pulls out a burner phone from his pocket and hands it over. His hands are shaking again and you're thrown into a worrying spin.

"Jay--"

Jason shakes his head. "I'm fine, alright? Take it and I'll call you. I promise." Jason urges as you take the phone from him.

"You're....you're gonna leave?" You ask as your eyes start to water. "B-but uh, I don't want you to." You look down and try to tug at the ends of the sleeves of your suit and Jason hates himself for doing this. You'll understand later. You have to.

"I have to. I have some shit I gotta get to. But, look, I'll be fine." Jason kisses your cheek and takes a step back. "You and me?"

You watch him with a breaking heart. You knew he wouldn't come back with you because he wants this to be a secret but you were really hoping you'd have more time. There's never enough time.

"You and me." You nod and Jason offers you a sad smile as he goes to walk away and you don't want him to. "Please, don't leave me again, Jay."

Jason freezes in his stance, his jaw clenching. Your voice shatters his heart. It's desperate and soft and weak as if you're clawing at all of your self-control to keep it together again. If it were just you and him, he would never. He'd go back with you. And maybe there is a tiny part of him that questions the whole plan. But, he can't do that because he knows Crane is right.

This is the way to get the city back because Bruce was wrong. This is the only way. And Jason wants his own revenge. He can't do that if he goes back. Jason swears he deserves his own revenge for everything that happened to him. Crane is right about mostly everyone. But, it is agonizing hearing you ask him not to leave and knowing he has to. This is the hardest thing he's ever done.

"I'm so sorry." Jason turns around. "I'll be fine, trust me. I'll call you."

"I love you." You state, chewing the inside of your cheek as you desperately try not to burst into tears again.

There's the smallest bit of relief that comes over him. He was hoping you still did.

"Love you, too. Don't do anything fucking stupid, alright? And don't worry so much. Get some damn sleep and go back to the manor and eat something. I'm fine."

"You don't do anything fucking stupid. And you should get some sleep and eat." You quip back weakly.

"Yeah, alright." Jason chuckles. "I'll call you, swear." Jason turns back around and heads back inside.

A few tears leak from your eyes as you quickly wipe them away. You have no idea what to make of this whole thing. None of it makes any sense. But he has to be real now. It all has to be real. He's alive and he seems...well given the circumstances. And you have no choice but to trust him, it's just really hard.

The burner starts ringing just as you put your mask back on.

"Hello...?"

"Told you'd I'd call you." Jason says through the helmet.

A smile tugs at your lips. He's still a shithead. "Yeah, okay." You roll your eyes.

"Just wanted you to know I mean it. I'm not leaving you like that again, alright? Trust me."

This small gesture does ease some of your worry. Not all of them, not even close but enough. Maybe you have a little bit of hope it'll be okay this time. It has to be. "Okay, Jay. Please, be safe out there."

"I will. You, too. Don't do anything fucking stupid." Jason chuckles.

"Of course not." You laugh back as you make your way back into the building. "I only do stupid shit when I'm with you."

Jason laughs on the other end. "Sure, babe." Jason quips. "Love you." Jason says.

"I love you, too." You smile softly as Jason hangs up.

As you walk back into the building and head out to your bike, you think about everything Jason said. Jason is usually very careful with his words, when he needs to be anyway. Which makes you think that's what he was doing, being careful not to reveal too much but just enough. He's working with someone but he can't tell you who. Of all people, Jason knows he can trust you. He's trusting you not to tell your best friends he's alive, but he can't tell you that? That's odd. He said he got help with being scared and the shaking and nightmares. What in the fuck is that even supposed to mean? Sure, it's great he's back and he's alive and you're relieved but those things are worrisome.

You're not supposed to dig but you like to dig. You like to have all of the answers especially when it comes to Jason so you get back to the manor and head to the Batcave. You hang up your suit before you sit at the Batcomputer. You tap the keys as you think.

If anyone knows Jason, it's going to be you. If anyone can figure it out, it's going to be you. And while he told you not to, you have to. He came back from the dead, literally woke up, and decided to be a crime lord. There is something off about that and you need an answer. You need to know he is actually safe with everything that's going on. Though, you will give him the fact everyone else seems to be scared of him now. That's at least nice.

Jason, on the other hand, does not feel relieved. This is for the best. Crane is right. The city doesn't need Batman. It needs someone new, someone willing to do all of this shit Bruce was too cowardly to do. His ways don't work here. They never have. It's Jaosn's turn to take over. Control the crime instead of trying to get rid of it. Organized crime is better than whatever the hell is going on in Gotham today. But, he feels guilty anyway.

He went out behind your back and he died. He never got to say goodbye. You never got to say goodbye and you found him. It was so wrong of him to think you wouldn't. It happened to him and he has the privilege of not seeing the aftermath of what the Joker did to him. He has to deal with the trauma that comes with it and he lives through it, which is its own hell but he put you through a different hell by you being the one to find him. He can only imagine what you saw. And he hates that thought.

And he hates the way you looked at him. Torn between disbelief and what he swears was hatred. He never meant for any of this to happen and yet, you're the one that got hurt in the crossfire. It was selfish, he tells himself. It was selfish not to just tell you. He remembers thinking that before he blacked out. He remembers wishing he would have told you and he still won't. He has the opportunity now to tell you and he just can't. He knows Crane has good intentions but there's something pecking at the back of his head that says to keep you out of it. It's Jonathan Crane. He trusts him but Crane might not trust you and that's a problem. He knows it. So, he has to deal with it.

By taking out the inhaler and inhaling a deep breath as his pupils glow a bright yellow. The fear and guilt and pain and worry fade away from his veins. The pecking goes dark and he feels nothing. He feels nothing at all anymore, not even the relief of feeling nothing. He's just numb and it's so much better than the alternative as he heads back to the basement in Arkham to prepare for the next step.

You search the Batcomputer for the night Jason died. You've avoided it. You saw him that night and that was enough for you. You don't need to see it actually take place but you look for the footage anyway. Some part of you thinks maybe if you can find it, you'll figure out what's really going on. Jason is back from the dead and that's great, but something lead him to the Joker that night. And he did not offer you a good enough explanation. Maybe the answer is in the footage. Someone had to know he was going to go out there and likely die. You want an answer as to who that is and why they would do it to him. It had to be some sort of setup somehow. So, you find the footage because of course Bruce didn't delete it and you press play as you hold your breath.

You watch Jason enter the amusement park. Your heart starts to race and you swear you're not going to watch the whole thing. You don't need to. So, you have your hand ready to pause it. Jason looks around at the closed-down games but The Joker appears on camera but Jason's not turning around. Your brows furrow, fully expecting Jason to realize the Joker is right there but he doesn't.

You don't get why he's not turning around. He has to know the Joker is there, he has to know. Jason has really good instincts with being on the streets and Robin training. How is he missing this? And then one of the games goes off and Jason turns around, a look of fear on his face before the Joker smacks him with the crowbar.

You pause the video as quickly as your reflexes will allow you. You clench your jaw as you remember what he looked like that night. It'll be forever burned into your eyes. Your hands start to shake as your eyes start to burn. You chew your cheek hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep it together. He's alive. He's alive. He's alive. You repeat it over and over and over again. Trying to convince your own memories they're wrong.

You shake your head, fast-forwarding, barely looking at the screen until the Joker walks off with a pep in his step, proud of the job he's just done. You sniffle as you swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes trained on the screen as you watch Jason's lifeless body. A part of you thinks this was dumb because you're not getting any more answers. Instead, you're just retraumatizing yourself and getting more questions. It's not really helping but you had hope, it would show something. And it doesn't. You watch yourself appear on screen and that's enough. You pause it and run a hand over your face.

You take a few minutes to breathe and gather yourself before you play it back. You watch it over and over again, always stopping the second Jason jumps and then you rewind. There has to be a clue. There has to be because Jason left a fucking formula for a drug lying around. He got sloppy at some point so there has to be some sort of clue. So, you play it back so many times you lose count until you hear someone come in behind you.

You're quick to exit out of the video before you spin around to see Dick still in his Nightwing suit.

"Hey." You let out a shakey breath, eyeing Dick carefully.

"What are you doing?" Dick crosses his arms over his chest, looking at the blank screen behind you. He saw you exit out of something.

"Nothing." You shrug, brushing it off. If he knows, he'll definitely have you committed. "How'd it go?" You switch it back to him. "Nightwing."

"It was a setup." Dick scoffs but he's still watching you. You're up to something and Dick is really growing to dislike when you're up to something. Nothing good ever comes from it. "What were you looking at?" He presses.

"What do you mean a set-up?" You ask. "Just some stuff. It's nothing." You push. Dick narrows his eyes at you, holding his stance on withholding what happened tonight. You roll your eyes, thinking of a quick lie. "Ya know, it bothers me. Jason going after the Joker. If he wanted to prove himself, to you and Bruce, why the Joker? There are so many others that would have done that job and Jason was reckless, not stupid. The Joker was stupid. So...Bruce is a sick fuck and kept the footage. Thought maybe I'd find something, a why. Did not."

"Excuse me." Dick shakes his head, his eyes widening and the worry he felt before for you intensifies. "You watched--"

"No, I stopped it. I didn't watch the whole thing go down. I just watched until Joker showed up. Jason...he never saw him coming. I don't know. It's whatever, ya know? So, now ya know." You shrug your shoulders. "I'm fine, ya know, all things considered. So, it was a setup?"

"You really don't need to be watching that." Dick scolds.

"I know. I won't again." You nod your head softly, looking to your lap and then back to him.

"He lured us to the bank using the kidnappings as a ploy. They were never in danger. Gar and Conner found them in a few vans, safe. The bank was a set up to blow it up with us." Dick explains.

Now that you know Red Hood is Jason, most of that isn't surprising. Him targeting the Titans though, that's still weird.

"Shit." You nod your head. "I mean, at least the kids and parents are okay." You states. "Still no idea who he is?"

"No. We'll catch him though."

"Why? He's not doing anything worse than Penguin. Is he really a Titan problem?" You questions, more so worried for Jason's sake. And maybe you're worried for the safety of the Titans.

You wonder if being resurrected changes someone. Jason's messing with fate in a way. Fate took him, killed him and now he's back. It's a betrayal. Maybe fate decides to keep a part of his soul as a warning that it'll come back for him. Maybe that's why he's doing this. A part of him died and stayed dead. But, you think maybe that's not it because of how he was with her. All things considered, he seemed normal. Maybe it's the trauma of dying that changes someone. Jason says he remembers it, maybe that changed him, changed how he saw the Titans in a way. You aren't sure but it pecks at you anyway.

"Yes, he's getting people killed, kidnapping people, robbing banks. That's bad. This is a problem. And he's targeting us." Dick states with the raise of his brows. "The Robin clue was not a coincidence. He asked for me specifically." Dick's eyes narrow and he's growing suspicious. "Do you know something?"

"Why the fuck would I know anything? I'm just saying. He's not that fucking bad. I mean, it terms of Gotham freaks go." You defend. "Maybe that mother did do something but you missed it. I don't know."

"What were you doing tonight?" Dick questions and you can tell he's spinning this on you.

"Patrolling." You shrug. "You can check, I didn't kill anyone. Didn't even attack anyone tonight. You should be proud." You quip as you get up.

You feel bad about it. Jason is alive and you can't say a damn word. A big part of you believes that if Jason were to just come home, they could work it out. Whatever the hell is up with Jason and Dick now, they could work it out. It's not fair to withhold it and it's not fair Jason asked you to do that. So, you aren't going to tell Dick, but you're gonna ask a few questions. This is going to get messy when he finds out and you're going to be lodged in the middle of it. That's not what you want so when Dick finds out, you want to make sure you drop enough questions that he'll know you knew. And wanted to tell him. It's not technically betrayal if Dick doesn't figure it out.

"Do you think it's weird the new guy is targeting you guys?" You ask carefully. "I mean...you were in San Francisco. You didn't go on patrol at all until he asked for you. Don't you think that's weird?"

Dick nods his head and he is really getting the feeling you've figured something out and maybe you're willing to share for once. "Yes, of course, I think that's weird. That's one of the reasons it's important we find out who this guy is and bring him in."

"Right." You nod your head. "Well, you said Robin wasn't a coincidence so who knows you're Nightwing and Robin?"

"What makes you think he knows I was Robin? Maybe it was about Jason." Dick offers, gesturing out a hand before crossing it back with his other arm.

"Maybe, yeah. But, that would mean it would have to be someone who knows Nightwing also knew Robin. Either way, it has to be someone you know, right?"

"And you're telling me you don't know anything?" Dick's voice is a accusatory.

"I don't know anything, just thinking about that, too."

Dick lets out a sigh. "You could come along and help." Dick offers. "It might be good for you."

"Pretty sure you just don't want me to keep up with my hit list."

Dick holds the bridge of his nose, resting a hand on his hip. "You have a hit list?"

"Yes." You answer casually. "Uh," You furrow your brows because to be fair, maybe if this was some random guy you would take up the offer to run from the grief you're supposed to be in. But, it's Jason. You can't cross the line between the Titans and him. You won't pick between the two of them. Keeping his secret is bad enough. If you go with when they fight him eventually, that means you have to pick a side. You will not pick between them. "It's just...I know it might help but, uh, I just...I don't know. Can I think about it?" You ask.

Dick nods softly. "Yeah, of course." He offers a soft smile. "Just...let me know. We could use all the help we could get."

"Yeah." You nod letting out a soft sigh. He has no idea. And you feel horrible about it.

Jason is already making you pick between them and you'd be lying if you said there's a part of you that isn't already a little resentful. You aren't very good at making friends. It's always been you and Molly, Tim as an acquaintance. That's it. But, the Titans, most of them, feel like such a family to you. Gar is your best friend, Conner is really nice, Kory is protective and you look at her like an older sister. Dick is like an older brother, somehow. How can you keep lying to them?

"Seriously, are you okay?" Dick asks.

You nod. "As okay as someone can be, I guess." Your smile never meets your eyes as you look to the ground. "Just...uh, trying to figure out how to carry everything okay." You chew the inside of your cheek.

"You'll figure it out." Dick assures you. "You have us." He nods his head once.

"You're getting a lot better at this shit. It's kind of weird." You offer him a genuine smile. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm gonna go to bed. I'll hang around with discussions and stuff with Red Hood but I don't think I wanna go out with the team just yet." You nod softly, figuring knowing what's going on is better than just avoiding it entirely.

"Okay, you're always welcome to change your mind."

"Thanks, Dickolas." You laugh softly before you walk past him and head out of the Batcave.

The next day, you find yourself in the Batcave with Gar, Kory, and Conner. Gar and Kory are playing chess while you and Conner are seated at the Batcomputer. Gar caught you up on everything that happened yesterday, including Dick going to Crane for help which is what has lead them to a game of chess. You think it's insane that Crane is even on the GCPD payroll. He's a master manipulator, but sure, they can definitely trust him.

There's a guilt pulling at the bottom of your stomach as you watch Gar and Kory play. Jason was his best friend and you can't say anything. Gar is understanding. He'll find out Jason's alive and you knew and he'll understand why you didn't tell him. That's just how Gar is but, you also know he's still going to be mad and he should be. You would be pissed if the roles were reversed but you have to try not to focus on that because at the end of the day, Jason is targeting them and they're targeting Jason.

You're seated on the floor, petting Krypto. "Can you guys even trust Crane on this one?" You look over to Gar and Kory.

"Is he that bad?" Kory asks, glancing over to you.

"Yeah, he made a fear gas and poisoned the city. It makes people live out their worst fears as if it's all real. It's insane and he's a master manipulator. I can't believe he's actually on the GCPD payroll." You roll your eyes.

"Dick said we can trust this. He's helped solve other cases." Gar assures you, still studying the board.

"Right..." You nod. "What's your plan then? Crack this and hunt him down? Send him to Arkham?"

Kory, Gar, and Conner look over at you confused. Gar knows when something is up. You're a lot better today than you were yesterday. You're not as snippy. He's glad, of course, but he's getting the feeling something is off anyway. You wanted nothing to do with this but Dick says you could help and suddenly you're on board. That's weird, even for you.

"Why? You said were going to help." Gar questions but he's not as good at digging for answers.

"Yeah, I mean...I said I'm fine with helping from here." You correct. You're definitely not actually helping, but they don't know that. "I'm just saying, it's Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow. And I don't know. Maybe Red Hood has a point or two. That's all." You shrug your shoulders.

"He decapitated six men." Kory states, a slight snip in her voice as she watches you.

"I'm not saying I agree with the decapitation." You defend and you definitely do not want to know what lead Jason to that method of murder. "Just saying I don't disagree with who he's killing."

"Whats going on with you?" Gar asks as Kory takes her turn.

"My boyfriend was brutally murdered by the Joker?" You quip. "Kind of don't care much anymore about how shit is stopped as long as it is stopped." You chew the inside of your cheek and it's not a lie. It's just...Jason is the one doing it.

"Right." Gar nods, unconvinced as he looks back to the board as him and Kory continue their game of chess.

Kory and Gar continue their game while Conner reads over a book on different chess moves. You actually find this to be quite nice. You get to know what they're planning before anything happens and you can warn Jason. And you aren't actually sabotaging anything. You don't know how to play chess, and Conner has the reading covered. You're really no help right now and that's fine with you. You're pretty content listening and petting Krypto.

"Do you always get this way when you get competitive?" Kory asks, pulling your attention to Kory and Gar. Gar has a grin on his face as he holds his head up with one hand, his other arm holding up his elbow. "By this way, I mean insane."

Gar chuckles softly. "I'm problem-solving." He states as he moves a chess piece.

"Yes, he does." You add in, earning a fake glare from Gar. You offer a wide-tooth grin in response.

"Birds opening. The answer's right in front of us. It's hidden in plain sight." Gar explains.

You roll your eyes. Jason loves to play games so it's not surprising he's literally using bird examples as clues. Though, you do wonder what is making him do it. It reminds you of the Riddler in a way.

"Speaking of Russians," Conner chimes in, pointing a finger at the book with a chuckle. "This guy, uh, this guy Bobby Fisher had the fillings removed from his mouth because he thought the Russians were using it as a radio channel--"

"Stop." Gar cuts him off suddenly, looking over at Conner.

"It's a fact." Conner says, his voice now depleted.

"Hold on. Fisher took out his own fillings?" Gar questions.

"Uh..." Conner stutters, his brows knitting together in confusion. "Not sure if I should talk or not."

"He did it because he thought the Russians were trying to beat him." Gar states, his attention back on the board. You look to Conner with just as much confusion. Gar lets out a chuckle as he gains a grin. "It was a defensive move. We're looking at this the wrong way." Gar sighs. "The answer isn't figuring out more of birds opening moves. It's how we beat it." Gar turns the board around so Kory's pieces are in front of him. You can't help but smile softly. There's just something about the way he gets when he figures something out. "Conner, top five defensive moves against Birds opening." Gar states.

You grab the book and hand it over to Conner. Dick walks in just then with furrowed brows as he watches Gar scramble to place the chess pieces while Conner flips through the book.

"I wouldn't." Kory states quickly, gesturing a hand to Dick. "He's on a roll."

"From's Gambit." Conner starts listing. "Uh, the modern defense. Fiancheto. Hobbs Gambit."

"Hobbs?" Dick questions, his attention pulling to Conner. Conner nods quickly and reads off what the play is.

You recognize the name from something Batman and Robin shut down years ago. You have to withhold your eye roll at the thought of it. Jason is just out there planning games with the codes and it's all coming back to Robin. Of course, it is.

"It's a group. They made explosives, right?" You look to Dick.

"Yeah," Dick says quickly as he rushes over to the Batcomputer. "Batman and I shut them down for street dealing." Dick pulls up the building and it shows a 911 call had just come in a few minutes ago.

Everyone gathers around, listening to the call. The other Titans don't know it, but it's Jason who made the call. You recognize the way the modulator sounds with his voice and your stomach sinks. He's really targeting them. Why? It doesn't make any sense. You know there has to be some sort of reason, but it's a little bothersome anyway.

"It's a bogus call." Dick states as he starts walking off. "He's leading them into a trap."

"Call Barbara." Kory states.

"I don't think she's taking my calls."

"We have to stop those cops." Gar says quickly, following after Dick and Conner and Kory follow him.

"You coming?" Gar looks back at you with hope in his eyes.

"Uh...no." You shake your head. "Gonna stay behind but good luck and be careful." You nod your head as you watch the rest of the Titans take off out of the Batcave, likely to get Hank and Dawn. Gar offers a sad but understanding smile before he heads off, too.

You watch until they're completely out of the Batcave. Once you're certain, they're out of the Batcave, you take out the burner Jason gave you yesterday. You hit redial and wait as the line rings. They're coming for him and while you have no fucking idea what he's up to, and you know he likely knows they're coming. It's a setup again. You have to warn him anyway, just in case. You can't lose him again.

"The Titans are on their way." You state as Jason answers the phone.

He cackles on the other end. The drug courses through his veins but something about you betraying the Titans makes him laugh. Something about it is a bit amusing. He knew you wouldn't side with them.

"Thanks." He states but he sounds different.

"You're welcome." You state and you would love to pry and find out what is actually going on. The laugh was odd, to say the least.

"Didn't think you'd betray them." It's almost like he's taunting you. His voice is casual but has some sort of bite of mixed amusement and snark.

You shake your head, brows knitting together. "Well, I just want you to be prepared."

"I'm always prepared." Jason quips back.

You don't like the way he sounds. Something is off. You think back to the footage before he died, how he should have known the Joker was there. You think about the fidgeting yesterday and how desperate he looked. Today, it's like he's a different person on this call. It's something you'd say you don't like very much.

"Okay, Jay." You let out a soft sigh.

"You going?" Jason asks but he's digging. You say you're not working with them which means you should stay back. He hopes you stay back.

"No." You let out a scoff. "Not working with them, you're good. Don't fucking kill any of them, Jason."

"They should stay out of the way." Jason warns.

"Uh-huh, right." You roll your eyes. "I'm serious. Don't kill them." You shake your head. "Good luck though."

"Thanks." Jason lets out a breath. "Won't need it." Confidence radiates through the phone.

"I know." You huff. "Call me after so I know you're okay, please."

"I will." Jason promises. "Thanks for staying back."

"You're welcome. You owe me." You smile softly.

"All you gotta do is ask, babe."

He laughs on the other end. He knew he could trust you. And he still loves you through the haziness of the drug. He does still feel that part. It's not nearly as strong with the drug flowing through his veins but it's there. He doesn't want you there because of it. But, you can handle yourself and you're clearly still on the same team. You're on his side.

"Okay, Jay." You laugh softly. "Love you."

"Love you, too." Jason responds back before he hangs up.

A part of you actually doesn't want to know. The more you know, the worse it'll be with you not telling the Titans anything. At least if the only thing you know is that he's alive, that's all you know. That's not that bad. But, he's acting weird and that's the part that you do want an answer for. You're not sure how you're supposed to get it.

The Titans come back a few hours later, defeated. They did not get Red Hood, they just took down his men. You do your best to hide your relief. But, you intentionally avoid all of them until they're off into their separate rooms for the night. At that point, you find it safe to wind up in the kitchen for a small snack and to think.

You hop up on the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. You keep going over how Jason was yesterday, how he seemed mostly normal. You keep falling back on his working with someone. You want to believe Jason wouldn't work with someone bad but if he were working with someone who had good intentions, he would tell you. Time and time again, you have proven you can keep your word to Jason. He would tell you which then brings you to wondering why the hell he would work with someone who isn't good? And you go back to the drug because he avoided an answer to that question. You start to worry that maybe he is taking something and that's why he's doing this whole Red Hood thing but you've known addicts and none of them decided to be a crime lord overnight.

Your head starts to ache from going in circles as footsteps echo into the kitchen before coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of you. You look up, eyeing Dick with a raised brow.

"Oh, you're awake..." Dick states, looking behind him and then back to you.

"Yeah?" You question. "Do any of us sleep normally?" You quip. "What're you doing?" You raise a brow at him, noticing he looks like he's on some type of mission. The winter coat being a dead giveaway.

"Nothing." Dick rolls his shoulders.

"You know, that's how the conversation went with Jason when I went after Jerry? What're you doing? Nothing. What're you doing?" You narrow your eyes at him. "You look like you're...on a mission?"

Dick lets out a sigh. "It's nothing."

You nod once. "Heard you guys didn't get 'im tonight. Anything to do with that?" You're digging and Dick can tell. Maybe you know.

Dick figures you have to know. You've been acting almost normal all day long. That's weird. Jason was just brutally murdered and you found his body. You snapped on everyone and started killing people but now you're fine? Dick is almost positive you have to know. If Jason were going to tell someone, it would be you.

Dick closes the distance between you and lowers his voice. "Did you know?"

"Could you possibly get any more vague, Dickolas?" You quip as your heart sinks.

He can't know. How the hell would Dick know?

"Jason." His jaw is squared.

You swallow thickly. Jason told you you couldn't tell anyone. How the fuck did Dick figure it out? But, you're not just going to fold.

"Fucking know what, dude? Spit it the fuck out." You snap.

"Did you know he's alive?" Dick's voice is stern, a warning hint to it not to lie to him.

"W-what?" You ask shortly, digging to find out exactly what he knows.

"Don't bullshit me." Dick warns. "Did you know? I broke his helmet tonight, saw him, and I talked to him."

You hang your head as you scrunch your nose. "Yeah." You look up at him with apologetic eyes. "Yeah, I found out yesterday." You admit and if Dick knows, you don't have to keep it a secret. Jason did not say anything about that.

"Unbelievable." Dick backs away. "You knew and you didn't tell any of us?"

"He asked me not." You shake your head and Dick can see the guilt washing over your face. "I wanted to tell you guys. At least you and Gar but he asked me not to." You shrug softly. "I, uh, just been trying to figure out how the fuck he's real."

"You're not sure?" If anyone would know if Jason is really alive, it would be you.

"I-I don't know." You answer. "I mean...I mean yeah like...it has to be him but...resurrection is kind of insane. So...I don't know."

Dick hangs his head for a second and he feels bad for you. You're caught in the middle of the Titans and Jason. He gets why you didn't tell them even if he's pissed about it. But, you're over here trying to figure out if he's really alive just like Dick is. There is one way you can find out.

"Come on." Dick gestures for you to follow him as he heads for the door leading to the courtyard.

You put your bowl down quickly before hopping off of the counter and following Dick quickly.

The two of you start your walk through the courtyard and to a shed. Dick unlocks it and opens it while you stand outside in the dark, holding your phone for a flashlight. Dick hasn't said a single word on your walk and you're kind of afraid to say anything back. He is surely on a mission. At this point, you're thinking you've all lost your minds. Gotham is taking everyone's sanity.

"Here." Dick pops out a minute later holding two shovels and offering you one.

You take it slowly. "Why the fuck are you handing me a shovel?" You look down at it before you look back at Dick.

"Only one way to find out if it's really him." Dick's face is hard while yours falls.

"You want us to go dig up his fucking grave?! Have you lost your fucking mind?!" You yell.

The last thing you want to do is go digging into Jason's grave. First of all, that's just...that's wrong. That's supposed to be his resting place and you're going to disturb it. You've seen that horror movie a time or two and you do not want to be haunted. And you're thinking of the decomp process and what a body would look like after a week. You already saw him the night he died, you don't need to see him decomposing if Jason is actually still dead.

"How else are we going to know?" Dick asks.

"I-I don't know! But what if we're wrong? We'll be...that's....ya know? Like...he's buried there." You say with hesitance.

"You don't have to help if you don't want to. I just thought you'd want the same answer." Dick lets out a breath. "And if I'm gonna do this, I thought it'd be right if you knew."

"Since I caught you." You correct him.

"Yeah." Dick nods. "Do you have a better idea?"

"No." You huff. "Fine but this is fucking ridiculous."

"You're telling me." Dick scoffs as the two of you make your way to the family cemetery.

You still think it's weird Bruce has this on his property to begin with but in the grand scheme of grave robbing, you're pretty happy about it right about now. Even if digging up Jason's grave feels wrong.

The two of you start digging as lightning strikes from above you. You dig and dig in complete silence, almost worried about saying something into existence. On the one hand, you're worried he's dead and he's under you right now. You're going to disturb him and that's not right. But, on the other hand, what if he's alive? What if he really is? You need to know.

"All you." You let out a sigh, hopping out of the grave as you and Dick hit the casket.

Dick looks over to you and the two of you nod before Dick opens the casket.

It's empty.

"Fuck." Dick lets out a sigh.

"Fucking Gotham." You shake your head even if relief fills your chest.

Jason Todd is alive.

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A/n: I promise I'm going somewhere with Jason not knowing Bruce killed the Joker because of who I am as a person lol

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman

[peach-and-bugs]

Could you write an adult Shauna Shipman x f!reader one-shot with quote 6 "I feel like you've got a hand on me at all times" "Maybe that's because I'm irrationally afraid that you'll disappear on me if I let go"

Ir could be something like, one day f!reader gets into an accident and almost d*es and after that Shauna doesn't let f!reader out of her sight because she's afraid that she'll loose her like she lost Jackie all those years ago

Thank you if you'll do it <3

💙Slipping Like Satin - Shauna Sadecki x fem!Reader💙

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: During the scuffle to try and catch the blackmailer, y/n is injured and Shauna hasn't left her alone since.

Warnings: Swearing, guns, blood, general angst

Word Count: 1,663

A/N: Hello Loves! I'm trying out a new header for my next couple of fics! I might tweak it to get the style to be something I like more, but I'm excited about the new aesthetic. But this has been a request that I've been saving till I knew exactly how I wanted it to go, and while it's still not exactly what I wanted, I'm pretty happy with it, so I hope you enjoy! As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!

Shauna Shipman/Sadecki Tag List:

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💙-

“God damn it, Natalie, I knew this was a terrible idea!” You heard Shauna scream, her voice growing shrill as her throat squeezed with upset. It had hardly registered yet, but you began to feel a hot pain on the skin of your upper bicep. Your hand was squeezing the spot, and when you moved it away, you could see a glistening red sticky on your fingers in the orange light.

“Fuck. We’re completely fucked!” Natalie barked back, running her hands through her hair as she began to pace in a circle. Only then did you notice the gun in her hand. You bit your lip, swallowing thickly as you looked back down at your fingertips. That is till Shauna moved in front of you, taking your hand in hers.

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re alright,” she murmured in a hushed voice. You began to nod but didn’t say a word. Getting shot didn’t actually hurt as much as you might have anticipated prior, you now realized. “Can I have a look?” Shauna asked though she was already moving your arm gently with her shaking hands. Anxiety knit her brow as she tried her best to keep her breathing steady.

“Tai, can you come look?” She asked, gently adjusting your sleeve to get a look at the wound. Taissa moved beside her, pulling out her phone to turn the flashlight on. They both examined the area with furrowed brows and frowning lips.

“It looks like it only grazed her,”

“Should we get her to a doctor?” Shauna’s voice was low and hushed like she was trying to keep the thought of a doctor out of your head. Or maybe it was Natalie’s. The brunette still seemed quite upset with the whole ordeal. Taissa took another look before she shook her head.

“No. If we clean and bandage it good she should be alright,” she brushed at the wound with her finger just too close and you took in a hissed breath through your teeth, your nose scrunching at the sting. You heard Shauna gasp, her eyes widening ever so slightly as her grip tightened. Taissa retracted her hand but you managed a smile with a small chuckle.

“Let’s just get this patched up, ok? I’ll be completely fine,” your eyes wavered to Shauna for the last bit. You might have been attempting to assure her more than yourself, but you weren’t too sure.

If you were being honest, you didn’t remember the whole affair all that well. Mostly there was confetti, or maybe it had been glitter? It was something colorful and it got in your eyes, that’s all that mattered. It was followed by more of a foot chase before you burst out into a parking lot in time to watch the blackmailer driving off. You thought that had been the end of it, till you heard the sound of a gunshot, followed by a clank of metal. Most of what you could remember was just recounting what the others had said, but you wouldn't admit that. You knew Shauna would freak about the whole thing more if she knew.

She had been showing up on your doorstep nearly every day after that night. She argued it was to check on your injury, though you could handle it yourself. She’d been insistently clingy recently. She doesn’t talk to you for just under a decade then all of the sudden she’s showing up at your door with food and various banned goods like clockwork. She might as well move into your apartment with how often she was dropping in, keeping tabs on your every move. It was likely from her sixteen years as a mom, and you appreciated a little help every now and then, but it was becoming a little much. You thought of all of this while on the toilet, anticipating Shauna might be waiting outside the door.

She didn’t turn up right outside the door as you thought, but walking back into your apartment's main room, you found her scurrying around your kitchen, as though she was attempting to appear as though she’d been busy in your absence. She’d pulled carrots out of the fridge and some other vegetables she was now prepping.

“What are you doing now?” you tried your best not to sound irritated, though it might have been hinted under your tongue. Shauna’ pressed her lips in a line and shrugged, seemingly trying to look casual as she shrugged.

“I thought I’d make a soup,”

“You don’t need to do that, I can make food,” She nodded but didn’t look up from her carrots. You stood still, simply watching her without a word, trying to configure what could be going on in that head of hers. Yes, you’d been in an accident. Technically you'd been shot, but not really. It was scary for everyone involved. But it wasn’t a big deal! You were clearly doing fine. You’d been cleared by your doctor, though they only thought it was grazing from a bad fall. Why was she suffocatingly all over you? Your brow creased and you frowned, looking away.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” You didn’t wait for her to look up before turning around and going back to your bedroom. You leaned your back and head against your shut door, now safe in the seclusion of your room. You didn’t mean to be, well, mean. But this sudden attention was unfortunately discomfiting. You felt fragile under your care. You hadn’t felt fragile in years. Probably not since ‘96. You shivered at the thought of what happened back then. Shaking the thought away, you rubbed your eyes with your fingers. Sleep. That’s what you needed right now. Sleep would make those thoughts go away.

-💙-

You woke up to a thumping sound somewhere in your apartment. The sound itself didn’t wake you, but it didn’t help any chances of falling asleep again. You sat up with a long yawn, dragging yourself out of bed only to notice it was now dark outside. You sniffed, leaving your room and padding out into your main living space. A warm aroma met your nose and you recalled Shauna’s soup. You were also reminded that Shauna was likely still here.

Sure enough, there she stood by your desk, your back turned to you. Her shoulders shook as you got a better look at her. Your brow furrowed and you bit your lip.

“Shauna?” Your voice was rough with sleep. Her name pulled her out of her head and she turned with a shameful look in her eye. She frantically wiped away tears that strew down her cheek. It wasn’t till you noticed what was in her hands and on the deck that you understood. She began to weakly apologize but you shook your head, silently approaching her. Her body was tense as you moved forward. She couldn’t realize it till you tenderly took the photos from her hands, fingers brushing over hers. She watched as you stroked the cheeks of the smiling girls, captured in a time capsule of Polaroid.

“I can’t believe you kept these,” Shauna murmured, her eyes wandering back down to the unearthed box sitting on the desk. You shrugged, smiling sadly.

“It felt wrong not to,” you mused with a hollow sigh. “I don’t look at them often,” Shauna chuckled when a thought came to mind.

“You were so excited to get that camera,” you nodded, letting out a soft laugh of your own.

“My parents rarely gave us holiday gifts early. They told me I should ‘capture the highlight of my teen soccer career,’” Your smile wavered sadly as you flipped through the photos. “Who knew that camera would only capture the worst few months of our lives,”

“We didn’t have it for the worst part,” Shauna corrected. You felt yourself tear up and forced a sarcastic laugh.

“Thank god I ran out of film,” you took in a long, sad sniff of air. Shauna’s eyes softened, growing wide as she began to cry again. Her arms found their way around her shoulders she pulled you in. Given the unexpected contact, you dropped the photos in your hands, sending them fluttering to the ground below you. You gave into her, going limp in her arms with your hands hung wilm at your sides. She held onto you so tight as you cried together. In so many ways it felt like mourning. You still mourned those you lost, the things you'd done, and the girlhood that had been so swiftly taken away.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed into her neck over and over as she told you to hush and save your words, but you couldn’t help it. You needed her to know “But I’ve been so mean to you this past week, and I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve felt like you’ve had a hand on me at all times and it scares me,” you cried, finally wrapping your arms around her back, hands squeezing desperately to the back of her cardigan. She let out a watery laugh and nodded her cheek against your forehead.

“Maybe that’s because I’m irrationally afraid that you’ll disappear on me if I let go,” She smiled as she said it, eyes shut tight. You knew just by the way her voice broke that it wasn’t a smile of joy, but one that held onto all the grief she forced herself to carry with her. You felt it too as you let out your own pitiful laugh of melancholy. You shook your head against her neck.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, ok,” you pulled away from her just enough to see her face, holding her cheeks between your hands. “I’m right here,” there was an urgency in your voice as your lip quaked, tears still spilling. She took a long break, sniffling heavily as she shakily nodded. You smiled and nodded again, running your hand over her hair.

“I’m right here,”