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joelscruff · 2 years ago

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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FOUR

previous chapters | kofi | ok babes, lemme preface this chapter by saying i'm not exactly sure how i feel about it. i wanted it to be longer and i wanted more things to happen but this week has simply been a clusterfuck for me and i wanted to at least get something out to you guys cause you deserve it. i hope yall like sexting and phone sex cause that's all this part really consists of, so if that's not your thing i'm sorry and i hope the next part will be more enjoyable for you. thanks for bearing with me 💕 chapter summary: joel is busy with work but that doesn't mean there aren't other things you can do without being in the same room. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), sexting, phone sex, mutual masturbation word count: 4.2k ao3

Now that you have Joel's phone number, it's ridiculously difficult not to text him constantly, especially considering he hasn't reached out since his first initial response. You'd replied to his first message with a heart emoji, something you'd almost immediately regretted but have had to come to peace with. You manage to keep yourself busy for most of the day, reminding yourself that he's at work and probably doesn't have time to be texting some shy and inexperienced college girl. It's not like you're in a relationship or anything; you've known the man for three days.

"Three days," you whisper to yourself, settled in your favorite spot in the backyard, near the pool. Three days and he already has his claim on you, the ghost of his touch still peppered all over your skin. You'd put on a bathing suit in case you decided to go for a swim, but also because you wanted an excuse to look at your body again, look at where his hands had been.

It's been so rare for you to ever look at yourself the way you do now, the way Joel has taught you to. You were almost ashamed of having a body to begin with, embarrassed by your legs, your breasts, and especially what lay inside your underwear. You'd been raised to view them all as taboo, despite them all literally being a part of you. The swimsuit you wear now isn't necessarily the sexiest thing, just a black one-piece you'd bought at the beginning of the summer with modesty in mind, but you find yourself feeling different in it, more confident. Mr. Miller likes this body. I like this body.

Your phone buzzes near your head and you scramble to reach for it, pushing your sunglasses down your nose and peering down at the screen. Disappointment floods you when you see it's just from your mom, but your eyebrows raise in curiosity when you read the contents of the message:

Will be home after your father. Don't tell him about Mr. Miller.

Your mother? Asking you to keep a secret? It's probably one of the most uncharacteristic things she's ever done; you have to read the message a second time to make sure you're understanding correctly. Why doesn't she want your dad to know? He was the one who'd attempted to defend Joel in the first place, wasn't he?

Almost like she knows you're going to question her logic, another messages comes in a few seconds later:

I will tell him on my own.

Interesting.

You swipe back to your "conversation" with Joel and feel your heart flutter at his one-word reply. God, you really are insatiable. You wonder what he's doing right now; lifting heavy things? Ordering people around? You certainly know that he's good at telling people what to do...

Your skin warms at the thought and you quickly shake it away, tossing your phone back into the grass and taking a few steps toward the pool. You plunge into the cold water just to soothe the hot ache you already feel between your legs.

Dinner is normal, although the secret hanging in the air between you and your mother isn't lost on you by any means. You definitely didn't get your ability at keeping secrets from her; she's flustered, quiet as she chews her meatloaf and awkwardly questions your father about his day. He doesn't notice anything is amiss though, just scarfs down his food and mutters something about paperwork before disappearing into his office.

"Why don't you want me to tell Dad?" you whisper as you help her do the dishes, watching as she scrubs a plate unnecessarily hard.

"Because," she hisses, eyes darting to his closed office door in the hallway, "Your father will want to ask him over for dinner again and I am not having a repeat of what happened last time." She makes a face at the thought of Joel's previous insult, "If we're going to help this man find his faith we have to take things slow, just like you said. I'll tell your father when the time is right."

You're at a loss for words at the way your lie has somehow already wormed itself into your mother's brain without a shadow of a doubt. She's genuinely convinced you're trying to do the right thing, turn Joel Miller into a God fearing Catholic. It makes you uncomfortable to think about how your lie has already gotten this deep; for a moment you briefly consider calling the whole thing off, changing the story, maybe even telling the truth.

And then your phone buzzes in your pocket.

"Whatever you say," you reply quickly, drying the last plate and backing away, "Um, I'm gonna go read in my room for a bit."

How was your day?

The text makes your heart positively soar as you flop onto your bed again like you had this morning, bringing your phone to your face and grinning like an idiot. He didn't forget about you.

boring. i missed you.

You don't care if you come across as clingy; it's how you feel. Your heart does stutter a bit when you hit send but all nervousness fades when he responds just as quickly:

Missed you too, angel.

You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat, heart pounding when his little speech bubble appears again to show that he's typing something else:

What did you do?

went swimming

What an image to put in my head.

You smile, feeling your cheeks warm. Your face falls however at his next message:

What did you wear?

You grimace, eyeing the ridiculously modest swimsuit hanging off your desk chair, still damp from earlier. Should you be honest or come up with a white lie, put a different image in his head? No, you've already lied enough for one day.

a one piece but i don't like it. it's not very me.

I'll buy you a new one. Tell me what you like.

He'd really do that? You bite your lip and weigh the options in your mind, thinking about the lingerie on those mannequins this morning, the things your roommates back at college wear. You want something you'll feel different in, something that makes you feel more like this sexy version of yourself Joel is helping you discover.

bikini. maybe pink or blue?

You got it. Maybe you can give me another fashion show.

You feel a surge of excitement, of intrigue. You'd wondered at the mall what kind of clothes Joel would want to see you in... he'd loved the dresses this morning - especially the white one - so you can't help but wonder what kind of swimsuit he'll choose for you. You're not completely sheltered; you know there are different types of bikinis. One of your friends had worn a micro sling bikini for Halloween last year as a part of her costume for a party she was attending - you'd taken one look and decided you weren't going.

Would Joel pick a bikini like that for you? The thought makes you feel a bit queasy, suddenly unsure if you'd even want to wear something like that. You want to look good for him but you don't want to sacrifice everything about yourself to do it. You stare at his message, wishing he wasn't just words on a screen right now.

where are you?

At a bar with my crew. But I'd much rather be wherever you are right now, babygirl.

You relax a bit into your sheets at the pet name; the word hasn't even come directly from his mouth but it has you acting like it has. Your body goes loose, that familiar throbbing starting up again in your underwear. You cross your legs and duck underneath the covers to type your reply:

i'm in my bed. i wish you were here

And what do you wish I was doing?

You stare at the text for a moment, biting down hard on your lip and trying to think of exactly how to articulate your thoughts in the best way. You've never done this before, never said or typed dirty things to somebody else. You figure texting is as good a medium as any to finally practice.

i wish you were playing with my pussy

The throbbing gets worse as you type the words. You cross your legs a bit tighter when you hit send, already nervous about what he'll say back. He doesn't waste much time.

You like when I play with your pussy, don't you?

Your cheeks warm as you sink even further beneath your blankets, legs parting slowly. You reach down to pop the button on your jeans, slowly typing out a response with one hand:

yes

The zipper of your jeans is down within seconds, your right hand carefully slipping past the open material and sliding down to cup where you're aching over your underwear. Your phone vibrates again and you hear a small whimper slip past your lips.

And you liked having those big fingers deep in there huh?

yes. it felt so good.

So full, right baby?

You circle your clit slowly with your index finger, mouth popping open at his words. The memory of the way his fingers felt inside of you, the way they'd pushed and prodded you so deep...

really full.

I'll do it again real soon, angel. Promise.

You whimper again, still tracing your pussy through your panties. Your brow furrows when the next message comes in a few seconds later:

I gotta head back now but I'll call you later. Stay up for me, don't fall asleep.

You frown. Oh well, you've gotten off without him a few times so far, what's one more time? You watch as the bubble indicating he's typing again pops up.

And don't touch that pretty pussy until I tell you.

Your hand freezes and you feel your lips turn into a pout despite the fact that he can't even see you.

"Meanie." you murmur at your phone, taking your hand out of your pants and tilting your head back to stare at your ceiling. You look down at the message again and can't help but feel your lips upturn; he's going to call you later... maybe meanie is too strong a word.

You prepare a little too much for your late-night phone call with Joel.

You take a long bath, soothing and relaxing with some lit candles and quiet music, all the while returning to your previous mental state of pretending you don't have anything between your legs. You're just a barbie doll down there, you tell yourself dubiously, there's nothing to touch or feel. That wishful thinking doesn't last very long however when you find yourself re-reading Joel's texts and feeling your pussy begin to pulse again under the water.

After your bath you comb carefully through your hair, counting each stroke to pass the time. You apply more lotion to your skin than you could ever need and then change into a pair of pajamas, just some simple sleep shorts and a t-shirt. You wonder what Joel would think of your old nightdresses, the ones you used to wear when you were a kid, still folded away in your dresser but probably much shorter and more revealing now. You take a quick peek at an old yellow one, lacy and faded; it practically smells of innocence and the bright eyed Jesus loving girl you once were, and you find yourself feeling sad. You shut it away again.

By the time you're freshly bathed and in bed your parents have already said goodnight and are settled in their bedroom down the hall. All you can do is lay back against your pillows and wait for Joel to call.

Nine o'clock passes; you decide to read for a little bit.

Ten o'clock; no big deal, you turn on the TV and quietly watch the beginning of a movie.

Eleven o'clock; you're about halfway into the movie now, feeling sleepy but still checking your phone every few minutes.

Twelve o'clock; the movie ends but you don't pay much attention to the conclusion, staring anxiously at your phone and waiting for it to light up. But still nothing.

It's almost one when you finally begin to face the reality of the situation. He never gave you a specific time, just said he'd call later, but how much later did he mean? Maybe he's already home now, in bed and asleep. He's probably forgotten that he even said he'd call. You're not that important. You're just some kid.

Tears well in your eyes when you finally turn off your bedside lamp and shuffle further beneath the covers, still staring at your phone. Please call, you think pathetically to yourself, or even text. Just do something.

You fall asleep with your phone gripped tightly in your hand.

You wake up to a light buzzing sound and sensation, your eyes squeezing together in confusion. You open them blearily and find yourself facing your bedside clock; 2:23am. It takes a few seconds for you to register that the buzzing is coming from your phone, and when you look down at the screen and see the name Mr. Miller, your eyes go wide. You answer it immediately.

"Hello?" you whisper, burying yourself under the covers again and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Hey, babygirl," he says softly on the other side, his southern drawl melting smoothly into your ear, "I wake you up?"

"Y-yeah," you mumble, still blinking your eyes and trying to get some alertness back, "Sorry, I know you told me not to fall asleep."

He chuckles and it's the most beautiful sound, charming and gentle, "That's okay, sweetheart. I got back much later than I thought I would, it's my fault," you hear him grunt a little bit, like he's settling onto his couch (or his bed?), "You stay up long waitin' for me?"

You bite your lip, "Um, maybe."

"Aw, baby, I'm sorry," he murmurs, "Poor thing, you must be so sleepy."

"M'not," you say, but your voice betrays you.

"Shh," he whispers, "You go back to sleep, we'll try this again tomorrow."

You try to sit up but you're still half asleep and the blankets are so warm and inviting, "No," you say quickly, "No, I wanna talk to you. I've been waiting."

You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, "God, you're so fuckin' sweet," he inhales deeply, "What I wouldn't give to have you in my bed right now, angel... all curled up and comfy in my arms."

You smile, eyes closing again as you settle back into the blankets and listen to his voice, "I want that." you murmur.

"I know you do," his voice is so soft and soothing in your ear, almost like a lullaby, "You want so many things with me, don't you?"

"Mm hm," you agree softly, "All of it."

"All of it." he repeats thoughtfully.

The line goes quiet for a moment, both of you just listening to each other breathe evenly. You know you should say something else, try and wake yourself up, but the longer you lie there with the phone to your ear the more tired you seem to be getting.

"Did you touch your pussy, babygirl?" he finally asks, voice still barely a whisper.

Your heart stutters, "No," you reply just as quietly.

"Good girl."

You hum at his praise, melting further into your pillow. You listen as he breathes slowly on the other end. You're starting to drift off again, you can feel it.

"I've got an early start tomorrow," he says softly, "But how 'bout I call you around seven or so, before I leave?"

"Yes," you whisper, "Please."

He laughs quietly, "Okay, sweetheart, you go back to sleep now," he exhales and seems to settle into his bed, just like you, "Sweet dreams."

"'Night," you mumble softly, leaving him to end the call as you fade quickly back to sleep.

You don't make the same mistake you made last night; you wake up promptly at six thirty and make sure you stay awake, washing your face and getting dressed for the day. You hear the shower going in your parents room and hope that miraculously both of them will have already left by the time Joel calls you.

No such luck. You can hear them both bustling around in the kitchen when your phone starts to buzz, and you quietly tiptoe back to bed and yank the covers up over yourself, hoping it'll muffle your conversation.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Mornin'", Joel replies; you can hear a smile in his voice, "Why are you whisperin'?"

You grimace, "My parents are still here."

"Ahh, the same parents who think I'm your guitar teacher, right?"

You bring a hand up to your face in embarrassment, "Oh my god, I forgot I told you that."

He chuckles, "So we're sneakin' around, huh? That what's happenin'? Is this gonna end with me gettin' shot?"

Your eyes widen, "I hope not!"

He laughs again, louder this time, "I'm kiddin', babygirl, don't worry. But you're an adult, you don't need their permission to see me."

"I know that, but as long as I'm under their roof they have rules, and I gotta follow them. Plus..." you make a face, "My mom doesn't like you."

He snorts, "Yeah, I figured."

"I kind of told her that um... that I'm... well..."

"What?"

"That I'm teaching you about God," you close your eyes, feeling your skin burn, "That you borrowed my hymn book and you're gonna help me learn how to play some of them."

There's complete silence on the line after you speak and for a moment you're scared he's hung up. You pull the phone away from your ear and look down at the screen; the call is still active. You bring it back up and he finally says something.

"Jesus, you're naughty," he mutters, voice suddenly dark, rough, "Lyin' about all that, just to see me?"

You swallow, "Y-yeah."

"Naughty," he repeats, "Naughty girl."

Another beat of silence. Then-

"Are you in bed?"

"Yes."

"Take off your panties."

You don't need telling twice, you're already throbbing just from hearing his voice change. You hold your phone against your ear with your shoulder and make quick work of hiking up your dress and tugging your panties down your legs.

"They're off," you whisper, voice shaky.

"Rub your clit," he says immediately, and you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt jangling on the other end, "'Til your pussy's all wet."

Is he...? He must be. You swallow tightly and do as he says, trying to focus on the task at hand and not on the fact that he's most certainly touching his cock right now while he talks to you. Getting wet isn't much of a challenge; as soon as your finger touches your clit you can already feel yourself start to drip.

"I'm wet." you whimper, rubbing your clit slowly.

"Already?" his voice is almost pained.

"Is it...is it weird that I get wet so easily?"

"No," he says immediately and you can almost visualize him shaking his head, "No, it's good. It's just 'cause you're so new to all of it," he groans, low and husky, "Fuck, I can't get enough of you."

You whimper again at his words, rubbing yourself a bit quicker and biting down on your lip. You can still hear the dull sounds of your parents from the kitchen below; you have to be quiet.

"Put a finger inside," Joel murmurs on the other end of the line, rough and scratchy, "Deep as you can go."

You bite down on your lip harder as you carefully push your index finger inside yourself, brow furrowing at the sensation. It's certainly nothing like having Joel's fingers in there and you immediately want to add another one, get that full feeling back.

"Push it in and out," he continues, "With me now, in..." you hear a dull slap, "And out," you follow along, eyes becoming hooded as you listen to what is most certainly Joel jacking himself off, "In....and out..."

He's pretending he's inside you. The thought alone is enough to make you moan, and you have to bring your other hand up to cover your mouth as you fuck yourself along to his pace. You add a second without being asked, whimpering pitifully into the phone and spreading your legs wider.

"Oh, babygirl," he whispers, "Those sounds you make..." he groans, low and deep, "Two fingers now, sweetheart."

"I'm already using two," you admit, still pumping them in and out; he groans again, even louder.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, "Three then, baby. Add your third, that's it." You hear another slap of skin and the sound is enough to make your orgasm begin to build in your belly. You wish he was here with you, holding you, touching you.

"I wish you were inside me," you find yourself whispering, voice shaky and pathetic.

He groans again, "Which part of me, sweetheart? My fingers?"

You shake your head, "No."

"Say it."

"Your cock," you whimper, chest heaving as you feel yourself getting closer and closer, "I want your cock inside me."

"Fuck," his voice is even deeper in your ear, almost like he's right there next to you, "I know you do, angel. Want it so fucking deep, don't you?"

You nod ferociously despite the fact that he can't see you, plunging your three fingers in and out steadily and feeling your legs begin to shake, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "I need it."

"You do need it," he groans, "You need this cock, babygirl. Can't believe you never had one before, can't stop thinkin' about it," the slapping is getting faster, louder.

"I wanted it so bad last night," you keen, eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, "And when you didn't call, I thought maybe-"

"Oh, babygirl," he groans, "Don't think like that, don't ever-" he lets out a deep grunt, almost like a whimper, "Don't think for one second that I don't think about you, about that pussy. Can't wait to be inside you. Gonna fuck you so good, so right," he grunts, his voice becoming more and more strained, "Gonna be so deep inside that sweet little hole, you're gonna feel it in your fuckin' stomach."

Holy fuck. He's never talked this much before, never said things this filthy or graphic. It's too much for you to handle all at once, pussy tightening around your fingers as his words bring you over the edge.

"I'm coming," you manage to squeak out, then slap your hand back down on your mouth as you shake and writhe under the blankets, moaning pitifully into your hand and praying your parents don't hear you.

Joel doesn't tell you he's coming but the slapping sound suddenly comes to a complete stop, and the next thing you know he's groaning loudly in your ear, breathy and rough. You listen to him, closing your eyes and letting his sounds invade your whole body as you come, wrapping around you like another warm blanket. You've never heard him make sounds like this, depraved and guttural and loud. You can only imagine what he looks like right now, what his cock looks like. You know what happens when men come, you know about ejaculation, but the thought of Joel doing that... right now...

"Mmmhmmm," you moan into your hand and feel your eyes roll back, picturing Joel laying in his bed, hand around his cock, "Oh...fuck..." you fuck yourself with your fingers until it's too much, until the sensations are borderline painful. You move your hand away from your pussy and squeeze down on your thigh, trying to get your legs to stop shaking.

There's a few moments of heavy breathing where neither of you speak, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to catch your breaths. You open your legs wider and lay there like a starfish, eyes closed, chest heaving. You hear the door slam downstairs, followed by the sound of your father getting in his police car and your mother getting in her SUV.

"My parents just left." you mutter, still breathless.

Joel chuckles softly, "Think they heard you?"

You shake your head, "No way, they'd have already broken down my door if they had any idea what's going on up here."

He laughs again, "Hold on a sec, let me clean myself up here a bit."

You can't help but smile at the image of Joel being vulnerable like that, having to clean up his own mess instead of yours. You shiver at the thought and slowly sit up in bed, body heavy and sated.

"That was... a lot," you say softly, still trying to even out your breaths, "All that... that stuff you said."

You hear the concern in his voice immediately, "Was it too much?"

"No," you say immediately, shaking your head, "No, not at all. I just..." you feel your cheeks burn, "I wasn't expecting....I didn't realize how much you thought about doing that."

"Doin' what?" you can almost hear his smirk.

"...Fucking me," you whisper it, even though your parents are gone, "Putting your...putting your cock in me."

He groans again, softer this time, "I'll be honest, darlin'. It was all I thought about yesterday at work. And it's all I'm gonna be thinkin' about today."

You shiver, lips turning up in a pleased smile, "Really?"

"Really, sweetheart. And I know we're takin' it slow, and that's okay, but fuck if I don't think about how that pussy's gonna feel around me..." he groans again and you feel the undeniable sensation of yourself getting wet again; insatiable.

"What if...what if it doesn't fit?" you ask quietly, unsure just like yesterday, "I know you said we'll make it fit but..."

"It'll fit," he reassures you tenderly, "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll go real slow, I'll be real gentle, and you just take it," he takes a breath, slow and steady, "You were made to take it, babygirl."

You hear yourself whimper softly, closing your eyes and turning your head into your pillow. God, you could listen to him talk to you like this for hours, just telling you everything he wants to do to you, everything he wants to teach you...

"When can I see you again?" you whisper.

"Well, that's what we need to figure out now, isn't it?" you can hear the hint of a smile in his voice, "When are these guitar lessons gonna take place?"

You wince, sitting up a bit in bed and leaning back against your pillows, "So you're okay with that? With me lying, I mean?"

"If that's what you feel you need to do, then it's okay," he says, and you can tell he means it, "I will probably have to actually teach you some guitar, though."

"I don't mind," you reply with a smile, remembering the way his hands had felt on yours when he'd first shown you those chords, the way you'd settled between his legs and he'd held you so close to him, "...As long as you teach me in your bed."

"Fuck," he murmurs, voice going dark again, "You are a naughty girl, aren't you?"

You can't help but smirk, "It's starting to seem that way, yeah."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: feelings on fire

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throneofsapphics · 3 months ago

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against the contract, chapter three

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics, guided masturbation, nightmares

word count: 2330

a/n: if anyone wants on the taglist please let me know!

<<< prev. chapter | series masterlist | next chapter >>> (coming 10/15)

That night, you laid up in bed, daydreaming about earlier that day, about the future, about them when the call came through. Your throat closed as you read the caller ID. Had you been sold out?

A shaky thumb hit the green accept button, convinced your neighbors could hear your heart thundering.

”Hey babes,” you put on your best cheery voice.

”Hi gorgeous,” she said with her signature sigh, as if everything was an inconvenience. “How are you?”

It sounded like genuine care in her voice, but you knew better. Knew what it meant when she dragged out the last syllable in a sentence. Genuine care meant she would’ve truly been there for you when ... you shook your head at the memories, refocusing on the conversation. You could play the game, if only to delay whatever news she was bringing.

“Great,” you replied. Because you were, truly. Besides this call, you felt fucking fantastic. Several more minutes of small talk passed, and you knew something was up. Her answers grew shorter, words sharpening into knives.

”What is it, Ianthe?” You finally asked.

”I'm calling in your favor,” the voice on the other end of the phone wasn't your childhood best friend anymore. She was all business.

Three days later, back in their house - if you could call something this large a house - you knelt on a cushion and thought about the package and message you'd received the night before. The contents quickly made it clear exactly who it came from.

Folded neatly, the small piece of paper contained a handwritten note.

Tomorrow, as soon as you step through the door you'll be in scene. Kneel to the left of the door, there will be a cushion waiting for you. Wear your gift.

Looking forward to seeing you xx

You figured it was Feyre, Azriel and Rhysand didn’t seem the type to leave kisses at the end of a note.

A black box with a silver ribbon, tied better than you could've done yourself. Inside was a butt plug, complete with a sapphire gem at the end, one you suspected might be real. You'd inspected it enough to know there was no remote control to turn on randomly, it was a pure and simple mark of ownership. You and your body liked the idea more than you should've. This was temporary, after all.

A text message from an unknown number had come through two minutes later.

It's Feyre, save my number. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!

Three pairs of feet, walking nearly in unison interrupted your train of thought.

”Right,” Rhysand tilted your chin up, mouth indenting at one corner, smiling the way rich people do. “Get yourself off for us, darling.”

The flush of your cheeks was pure gold to him. He wanted to strip you down to your barest layers, push you to your limits, and leave you with his mark. Since you'd signed the contract, they'd done enough research to make any spy blush. He'd figured out you had a track history of being watched, but only with others touching you, never anything with you touching yourself. Where there was a gap, Rhysand usually found something to exploit.

It wasn't hesitation, but a moment to process, he could tell the difference. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as trembling fingers reached down between your legs. Concentrated effort kept his own eyes from rolling back as yours did. Feyre didn't have his same control, a breathy sound escaping her lips.

Azriel, on his right, had his arms crossed, expression neutral. Rhys was half tempted to have all three of them kneeling, but this was about you right now.

”It's not going to work,” you said after a little while, hand pausing. “It never does.”

Rhys glanced at Feyre, she nodded.

Feyre circled and crouched behind you, not touching but hovering enough that if you shifted your body weight you would collapse into her. Lips just a hair's breadth away from your ear, Rhys couldn't hear what she was saying but watched the fruits of it. You tugged at one nipple with two fingers, rolling it back and forth, your other index finger stroking your clit more firmly this time.

With Feyre's words, Rhys watched your movements grow more confident

Rhys watched as your head fell back, the elegant arch of your neck showing, Azriel going very still next to him, one of the man's only tells.

Legs tensed, your hand slipped from your nipple to slap against the stone tile, your back arching.

This, Rhys knew in that moment, was going to work beautifully.

After that first scene, they took you on a tour of the manor, this time showing you more of the rooms as you struggled to commit them all the memory. It would take time for you to learn your way around this place, especially the grounds. Feyre mentioned she’d give you a tour of them tomorrow.

You met them for a perfectly normal dinner, where they’d discussed a few more details.

“We ask that you do not wander the grounds alone at night, our security detail doesn’t know you yet ...” Rhys let the end of his words drift off, and you understood the implication. Here, you didn’t want to be treated as an intruder.

“I won’t wander the grounds at night,” you confirmed.

Rhys’s grin seemed a little easy, as if it was designed to put people at ease. It worked on you.

You’d thought there would be something else to the night, especially considering how much they were paying for you to be there but that had been it. Looking at the giant, ridiculously comfortable bed in front of you, it was all too easy to dive right into it, burrow yourself up, and collapse into sleep. Another day, you’d think your way out of the situation Ianthe put you in.

“I never loved you. You were a burden I didn’t need at the worst time in my life,” she sneered at you, hands braced on her hips in that very mom-like way.

“Mom,” you - squeaked? Glancing in the mirror behind her, you couldn’t be more than ten years old. She’d always loved you, it had always been the two of you against the world. Why would she do this to you now?

“Get out,” her voice grew deeper, her face transformed. White stones - no, teeth - clattered to the floor from an open maw. Drop. Drop. Drop. Eyes turned black, and sticks reappeared where her teeth had been. “Leave. Out. Out. Out.” The last word broke through in her natural voice, cerulean blue flashing where black had been, a pleading and broken look. “While you still can,” the demon that had taken over her whispered in a sing-song voice. A door locked behind you and it tutted. “Too late.”

You shot up in your - where the hell were you?

Glancing around, you familiarized yourself. Elegant canopy. Black walnut furniture

Right. Contract.

The recurring nightmare had disappeared for the last few months, but you supposed a change in scenery could bring it back. Nothing strange, nothing abnormal, you chanted to yourself silently.

A look at your side table told you your glass of water was empty.

Earlier, they didn’t say anything against wandering the halls at night.

Wrapping a silk robe around you, a gift from them, you tiptoed out of your room, the cold tile soothing against your bare feet. You’d woken up in a sweat, you realized. Unsurprising.

A giggle escaped you, what would they say if they saw you wandering the halls naked at night? Probably send you back home, you sobered. That’s not what you wanted. Letting the moonlight drifting through the large windows guide you, you trailed a hand along the walls.

Gorgeous. Beautiful. Serene.

It was like that here in daytime, but you thought the night tended to bring out a special breed of person, yourself included in that category.

You made it to the kitchen without seeing a soul, one hand firmly clutched around your glass.

After you’d filled it nearly to the top, you slowly turned and spilled half of it on you at the sight.

Azriel, in the doorway, looking like a shadow of death

“Am I breaking a rule?” You tilted your head. A genuine question, not sass. At least you hoped it came across that way.

”Not technically,” Azriel muttered, “just common sense.” The words would have stung if you hadn't seen how his mouth briefly curved up at one corner, a slight squint at the corner of his eyes. Sarcasm, or amusement. Maybe something about the night took away some of his stoicism.

He stalked across the space, his form crowding yours as he plucked the glass from your hand, shifting behind you and dumping it down the -

“What are you doing?” You squeaked.

“We have filtered water,” he lifted it above your head when you tried to grab it from him.

“Sink is fine,” you insisted.

He ignored you and made his way to the fridge instead, placing the glass on a small shelf, and pressing a button.

“I’ll take you back,” he said once he finished filling it.

“Okay,” you trailed him cautiously.

You could’ve done all of this on your own, and might have snapped back at him for it another time but you didn't want to push too far. If anything, you knew the least about him.

“Why are you awake?” He asked, and it felt wrong to lie to him.

“A nightmare,” you settled for the simple explanation instead.

“A nightmare,” he echoed. “I get those sometimes.”

It surprised you to hear him share something so ... personal with you, but you wouldn’t take it for granted. It made you want to share with him.

“It was about -”

You stopped. No. That was too personal. Too much. The only living person who knew about it was currently trying to turn your life into a nightmare.

He shot a curious glance your way, but didn’t push you any further on the subject. Why did you want him to?

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh @rosecobollway @glittervame @tele86 @randomgurl2326 @bookwormysblog @sidthedollface2 @scarsandallaz @therealmoonstone @grapeflavoredwater @fhgsvbnh @sfhsgrad-blog @julesvanslutta

acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @i-am-a-lost-girl16

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f

#feysandriel x reader #poly!feysandriel x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #feyre archeron x reader #acotar fic #acotar x reader #kinktober 2024 #acotar smut

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baronessvonglitter · 6 months ago

Text

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 10 🍒

"Secrets & Lies"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,023

Summary: you and Joel find out just how fond the heart grows during absence.. meanwhile your mom makes a call and you find out a secret about your cousin..

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), takes place in summer 2003, dbf!Joel (still counts if he hasn't seen said friend in years), sexting, sexy pics, use of pet names ('daddy' for Joel, 'sweetheart' for reader), overbearing mothers, secret relationship, oral (m&f receiving), fluff, a smidgen of insecure!Joel, talk of 'adult viewing', candid discussion about sex & expectations, reader's race never mentioned, no use of y/n

Author's Note: as per a few previous chapters, I'm trying to give a more realistic side of deciding to have sex (or not, as in this chapter) without it being too black and white. There's a lot of passion between reader and Joel, but he's not using it to his advantage, keeping her boundaries but still wishing she'd say yes. Thanks to everyone showing appreciation for this series, which is the first fic I ever wrote and is so near and dear to my heart.

Series Masterlist

Joel is with Tommy in San Antonio for business and even though it's only for two days, you miss him as though he's taken a part of you with him. Your last text, a simple I miss you, has gone unanswered and you don't want to bother him while he's busy, but his silence creates an emptiness, a longing that makes you half-crazy with the idea of driving down to San Antonio just to see him. But he's left Sarah in your care, and you know it's better to be distracted with her presence.

Though she tells you she's used to being on her own in situations like this, she stays at your house anyway, taking up residence in your room, your queen size bed big enough for both of you to sleep in. Your mind flits back to recent memories of the things you've done with her dad in this very bed, things you hope you'll get to do with him again very soon.

Just as you close your eyes your phone vibrates on the nightstand next to you, lighting up with an incoming text. This late, it can only be Joel. Your heart does a little dance as you reach for your phone, and even though Sarah is fast asleep, you feel the need for privacy. You go to the living room and make yourself comfortable on the sofa.

Joel: I wish you were in my arms right now

You smile like an idiot and get even more comfortable, typing out a response. if I was we would be getting to know each other better than ever.. how's it going over there?

Joel: It's just all right.. I have some plans for you when I see you, sweetheart.

You: tell me, in detail, and we'll do them when you come back

Joel: I'd rather do them now..

You: patience is a virtue. if you want me right now you'll have to kidnap me :D

Joel: Patience ain't my strong suit so I must not be that virtuous. If you think I won't kidnap you, you're wrong. I'll do anything to be with you.

You: i'm sure you have rope and duct tape in your toolkit.. sounds like a good time to me

Joel: I do, and I have no problem using them to get what I want ;-)

You: i love you.. your persistence may come in handy when you come back this weekend

Joel: I love you too, and I hope I come in VERY handy this wekend.

You: speaking of handy, guess where my hand is now.. While Joel is stunned by your message, you quickly snap a picture of your hand slipping inside your panties and send it to him. I'll leave this to your vivid imagination.. good night <3

The next day you're at the mall with Sarah when your phone rings. You don't recognize the number but you know it must be Joel, maybe calling from the motel room phone. Sarah is looking at jewelry at Claire's when you step out to answer your cell. "Hey daddy, I was wondering when you were gonna call me.." you practically purr into the phone.

There's a pause on the other end, though you hear chatter and noise in the background, Your mom's voice comes through the other end, saying your name in a confused manner. Your heart sinks into your stomach and you have the urge to vomit. You can't believe you've just said those words to your own mother. "Hey.. mom. What are you doing?"

"I'm calling from Larry's cell. We're in Cancun. Who's daddy? Did you finally get in touch with your father?" There's both hope and disdain in her voice, and you just want to crawl into the earth and blanket the dirt over you.

"I, uh, have bad reception here. I thought it was Sofia calling me. It's a stupid little game we play, like we're calling from a sex hotline or something," you scramble for an excuse, grimacing at how you've botched it and praying she won't ask more questions. "And no, unfortunately I haven't heard from Dad. I don't think we ever will."

"Well, don't answer the phone like that again. It's not very ladylike," she says in her typical, overbearing fashion.

"So.. you and Larry are in Cancun? Are you having fun?" you desperately change the subject.

"Yes and it's wonderful! We've been.."

You try to pay attention, but as usual your mom is making it all about her. Not once does she ask about you but you know the moment she's done she'll find something about you to criticize in her usual backhanded way.

Sarah approaches you, having bought a bracelet and showing it to you, asking where you want to go next, if you are as hungry as she is for a Cinnabon. She quiets when she sees you on your phone, but it's too late.

"Who is that?" your mom asks.

"Uh.. Sarah Miller.. I'm babysitting her." Sarah glowers at you and gives you a playful shove. "Ow! I mean, we're hanging out."

"It's great that you're making friends.. did you say her last name is Miller?"

"Yeah, I.. think so.."

"Don't tell me she's that man's daughter."

Your brain is stuck in deciding to play dumb or not. "What man?"

"Joel Miller. That man who lives next door to you and your cousin. He was close with your father a long time ago."

"Oh? Wow, that's really cool." You are not doing a great job of sounding uninvolved. "Maybe he has some stories about Dad from back in the day," you offer lamely.

"I didn't like him then and I don't like him now." Your mother is emphatic. "He was always up to no good and even got your father mixed up in his antics."

There's a story there. "I'm sure people can change over the course of twenty years, Mom." You feel the need to defend the man you're in love with, though it does create a little itch within you that you don't know much about his past. You two have been more concerned with the present and all its indulgences.

Your mom simply says, "Hmph."

"Well, I gotta go.. Sarah needs a nap and maybe a bottle of milk." You laugh as she takes a swipe at you again.

"You don't call to check in often enough.. I hope you're behaving yourself and not giving your cousin anything to worry about."

Your blood runs cold. You have always wondered if your mom has a supernatural gift for knowing what's on your mind, as if you secretly and silently project a mental image of your guilt. Even when you were a kid you could imagine her death glare on you when you were thinking about doing something bad. If she had even a wisp of an idea of what you're up to with Joel..

"I'm sorry, and I promise I'll call more often. I'm just trying to enjoy myself before school starts."

"All right, honey," she sighs. "I love you. Be good."

"Yeah, I love you too." You end the call.

Sarah notices the look on your face as you continue walking through the mall. "What was that about?"

"Uh, that was my mom. She's on vacation with her boyfriend. She told me to say hi to your dad."

That night you get a text from Joel. Have Sarah stay at a friend's house tonight. I'm coming home early. Need to see you.

Once again there's that little thrill of anticipation that surges through you. can't wait! gonna ride with some friends to the boonies to see a garage band if you wanna come with

Almost immediately he sends, Ditch those plans. Get ready for me.

You make the plans and drop Sarah at her friend's place. Back at your own you wait, dressed in your party clothes just in case Joel can't come home after all. It's almost eleven when you see his truck headlights through your front window. You tentatively walk out, catching a glimpse of him as he alights from his truck and you immediately head his way. "Sarah gone?" he asks, pressing into you on the front porch. You can only nod. "And Sofia?" he continues.

"It's just us," you whisper, and he lifts you up to kiss you, your bodies covered in the darkness of the porch. On the stairs to his room you leave a trail of clothes you've removed, kissing and groping each other to make up for the time you've missed with each other. "Gonna take ya with me next time," he murmurs, lifting you, squeezing your ass as he finds your panties and starts to pull them down. "That naughty picture you sent really got me goin'.. you're a little tease ain't ya?" His voice is gravelly yet soft, intimate in your ear.

On the bed he maneuvers you how he wants, on his back with you riding his face. You don't give it a second thought, bracketing his head with your thighs as you press down to him, giving a yelp as his tongue laps against you, eager, almost impatient. One hand strokes his cock while the other fondles your breasts, running his large palms over them and cupping their heft.

You learn to move against him, grasping his hair as he sticks his tongue inside you, or presses your clit between his lips. It's ecstasy, using him for your own pleasure, and only once you've come does he have you turn around, and gently guides you to lean over his body so that you can take his cock into your mouth.

Knees still shaking from your orgasm, he helps hold you up, giving you a second helping as you take him into your mouth. You work the first few inches while stroking him, your concentration breaking as he artfully brings you up to speed again with his mouth, running his tongue across your folds and holding your hips still above him.

He's already on edge and by now you know exactly what he needs to cum. While stroking him with one hand you run a gentle tongue over his balls, eliciting a grunt from him and he twitches in your grasp. Smirking to yourself, you continue it, and his grip on your hips tightens as his moans reverberate on your pussy, causing you to cry out as well. Cumming together, you press yourself down against his willing mouth while his cum shoots out, dripping down onto your hand grasping it, and you lick it, cleaning it all up.

Moments later, you lay in each other's arms. "I thought that was something they only do in porn," you tell him.

He raises a brow. "You watch porn?"

"Yeah, sometimes.. don't you?"

He shrugs. "Now and then.. I s'pose it's easier than goin' out and findin' someone. But you know that shit ain't real. It's all fantasy. I don't want you to think I have any expectations of you."

You snuggle against him. "Even if you did, I'd do my best to live up to yours."

Joel just smiles and strokes your hair. "Once you sent that pic last night I had no choice but to cut the trip short. I dropped off Tommy at his place and some chick drove up just after I left."

"Just like that, huh? At least he wasn't alone."

You feel the curve of his smile against your hair. "At first I was afraid you'd like him better. He's younger, better suited to your age."

"Joel!" you look at him, surprised by this sudden confession. "I like him but I love you. In fact.. I wish I'd been born earlier. I would have liked to meet you as a teenager."

"I don't know if you would've liked me then. You probably would've been the girl I was too afraid to talk to."

"I definitely would've liked you. I was such a geek that you wouldn't have noticed me."

He sits up and you sit with him, still wrapped in his embrace. "Wait, you were a geek? What kinda geek were ya? Was you a sci-fi geek? Or a comic book geek?"

You laugh at his amusement. "A little of both. Plus a marching band geek. What about you, what were you like in high school?" Your mom's warning from earlier looms in the back of your mind, like an oven burner left on and you scramble for the switch to turn it off.

"Well I was a sports freak back then. I was on the football and wrestling teams. I even wrestled at state level."

It was a turn on to think of him, your own age, playing under the Friday night lights, or pinning someone down to the gym mat. "You were a jock, huh? I can see that.. Jesus, I would have loved to see that."

"You just like seein' me all shirtless and sweaty, don't ya?"

"You mean like right now?" you smirk, trailing your fingertips down his chest and to his happy trail. "Want to hop in the shower with me? I have to be up early because Sofia's coming home tomorrow."

In the shower together, Joel watches how the water rains over your skin, making it glisten. He's speechless as you slowly turn, letting the water drench your hair. "Sweetheart, I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to keep my hands off ya."

"Don't keep your hands off me," you say, bringing him under the spray with you and kissing him. He slowly pushes you against the wall, deepening the kiss and running his hands along your curves. His cock is like a hot poker against your belly. You moan into his kiss, especially when you feel his fingers glide over your cunt. You feel so small in his embrace and yet equal, more beloved than anything on this earth.

Joel lifts up your thighs, holding you in place by your hips, as if you weigh practically nothing. You feel the pressure, the gentle nudge of his cock at your entrance. "Oh sweetheart, I can't wait any longer."

You put your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up, lightly squeezing them, seeing what strength he possesses. "Joel.. I don't know.. it feels good, I just don't know."

He's trying to control his breathing, waiting for a definitive answer from you.

"I want to stop. I'm sorry, I just think we're moving too fast."

He sighs. "I understand." And he gently puts you down.

"It's just.. I've been building up this moment in my mind for weeks now and I want things a certain way: rose petals on the bed, candles, music.. super romantic. I know how silly that sounds, I just don't want to have my first time in the shower."

"We're gonna do this how you want it," he assures you. "And if I may make a suggestion.. I have a friend who owns a cabin out on the lake. We could spend a weekend up there. Would you like that?" He lifts your chin to look into your eyes.

"That's perfect! Because I was thinking July fourth would be the best time.. lots of fireworks, very celebratory.. what do you think?"

He smiles. "I think we have ourselves a plan for next weekend."

Very early the next morning you slip your shorts back on and lean down to kiss Joel as he sleeps. It's almost time for Sofia to be home.

"What time is it?" he asks groggily.

"It's 3 A.M." You put your shoes on. "God damn it you look so cute right now. I don't want to leave.."

"Then don't." He takes your hand and pulls you back to the bed.

"I'm not that easy," you say, despite climbing back into bed. "I held out on my ex for an entire year. I can make you wait too, Joel Miller."

He laughs a little. "Sweetheart, I am never going to wait that long. Don't test me."

You trace the outline of his face. "I don't think I could wait a year for you. But in a way I've waited my whole life for you."

The rest is unsaid as he takes you into his arms for another kiss, which leads to your clothes being taken off again.

When you wake again you read the bedside clock and panic. "I completely forgot! Sofia's gonna kill me!" you rush to get dressed, thinking in the back of your mind that you've tossed your clothes to the floor and put them on again so many times this night. Joel's up too, worried because you're worried. While rushing out of his house you freeze. Next door in the driveway Sofia's getting out of a car. Her hair is messy and her clothes look wrinkled. She makes eye contact with you then behind you at Joel, who's rushing after you.

You spin around towards him. "Hey Mr. Miller, everything's fine! You can pay me later, I'm always happy to babysit Sarah," you overact it, hoping he plays along.

"I stayed out late and when I got back your cousin was fast asleep on the couch. I didn't have the heart to move her," Joel says, hands in his pockets as he tries to charm Sofia into the lie.

Sofia looks at both of you but says nothing, and out of the driver's seat of her ride comes Tommy. "Everything okay, babe?" He looks at Sofia, at you, at Joel. All four of you are connecting the pieces of the puzzle.

Joel speaks first. "Tommy, are you and Sofia...?"

Tommy replies 'yes' while Sofia says 'kind of.'

"And you?" Sofia asks of you. "Are you and Joel..?"

You exchange glances with this man who's become your lover, who's shown you the greatest pleasure you've ever known, who eats you out for hours when you finally have alone time, who's cum you've taken down your throat and whose taste is still on your tongue.

"She's my daughter's friend," Joel says defensively. "And I'm makin' sure she gets home okay."

He omits the fact that you love each other.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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finnbbl · 9 months ago

Text

Hyunjin x M! Reader - Dancer AU | SMAU | Chapter 10

Ch. 10 - Cutie | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter |

| Story Masterlist |

Written: Yes

Smau: Yes

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: sry i fell off the face of the earth 😭 I got a writers block then got super busy and stressed with classes. Updates probably won’t be daily, I’ll update whenever the chapters are done <3 sorry to make you wait so long, and tysm for ur support !

P.S. let me know your thoughts on the story so far! i’m a bit insecure on some chapters and want ur guys honest opinion!

Warnings: Uhm swearing? Typos, not proofread. lemme know if i missed anything

The night went on with all 9 of you guys joking around and having fun. For once, you felt as if you fit in, like you belonged somewhere. The night was nearing an end, most stores were closed as it was rather pretty late.

Everyone had decided to window shop. At one point, without even realizing it, you had wandered off. Although it was late, there were still a few other people out and about.

You weren't paying attention, and the next thing you knew you had bumped into someone. You turned towards him as you apologized profusely. He was taller, had darker hair, and was dressed in a hoodie with a jean jacket over it. "I'm so sorry, I should've looked where I was going." You internally panicked as you bent down to pick up his bag, which you had previously accidentally knocked out of his hand. "It's alright sweetheart, don't worry."

You froze. "Sweetheart?" Your mind wandered around that thought as you unknowingly. Your eyes were lost on his gorgeous face as you unknowingly kept a tight grip on the bag. The guy's sentence snapped you out of your trance.

"You okay?" Immediately, you let go of it. "Oh, sorry." A nervous smile fell on your face as you quickly handed it to him and brought a hand to your now warm forehead. The guy chuckled at you as he complimented, "You're cute."

His compliments keep catching you off guard, before you even had a minute to register anything he said, he spoke up again. "You're not busy are you?" You shook your head at his question, wondering how you even got to this point.

For a moment, you completely forgot about everyone else.

This guy was intoxicating. "I've seen you've been wandering around with some other guys, mind if I tag along?" It was at this moment your body decided before your heart did. "Sure, that's fine." Throwing him a smile as he held out his hand for you to shake as he introduced himself. "I'm Mingyu."

"Mingyu.. that sounded familiar." You had sworn you'd heard that name somewhere. Pondering as you connected his hand with yours, shaking slowly. "Y/N." Unable to form a full sentence as you left him with just your name. "Y/N there you are." A voice behind you caught you off guard as you saw that Bang Chan was running in your direction. He seemed a bit worried. "You can't run off like that this late." Chan took a peek at who you were talking to. "Oh hey! Haven't seen you in a while. What are you doing in Japan?" The leader abandoned your guy's conversation and went over to talk to Mingyu. "Ah just touring, we have some free time so." The way he spoke captured you, and you felt like you couldn't take your eyes off of him. "You don't mind if I tag along with you guys do you?" By this time, the other members had caught up with you three and now listened in on their conversation.

"Ah, I think we're about to head back, it's decently late.

Sorry about that."

"Ah no worries, as long as I can get this one's number." His hand laid a gentle tap on your arm. In the few minutes you had been around him, you could tell Mingyu was a very flirty person. This left you sort of embarrassed, but it also left butterflies swirling around your stomach. God, you know that these boys would tease you about this later.

And damn were you right.

After you all filed onto the bus once again, they started messing with you. "Awh how cute, someone has themself a boyfriend." Hyunjin who was next to you nudged our shoulder. "Stop." You pushed him off of you. "I don't have anything."

"Mhmmm sure. That's why your eyes were glued to his face during his whole conversation with Chan."

"I was just trying to figure out who he was. That's all." You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in your seat. “Pfft yeah right, everyone knows who Mingyu is. Not a very good excuse.” Lee Know stated again. “Only his name sounds familiar, i can’t think of anything else.” You let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes. Letting your body flop back in the seat as you crossed your arms. “Damn, so you really don’t know?” Felix’s voice sounded and your head shot in his direction, a questioning look on your face as you shook your head. “So you don’t listen to Seventeen?”

Your eyes widened as the group’s name was said. “You’re kidding, Seventeen?!” You sat back up as you heard Hyunjin laugh from next to you. “So I just embarrassed myself in front of the Mingyu from Seventeen?!” You dug your face in your hands, slouching back down. “I don’t think you embarrassed yourself, all you did was make googoo eyes at him for ten minutes.” Hyunjin teased as he neared your face. Feeling annoyed already, you pushed him away. “You’re so irritating!” He only laughed at your reaction as you rolled your eyes. The rest of the bus ride was pretty much just the others teasing you. Although you didn’t particularly enjoy it, you definitely enjoyed the time you spent with them. Finally, you had found your place.

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#skz smau #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids smau #bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #skz #lee know #hyunjin x male reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung #lee felix #seungmin #jeongin

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tobernaut · 7 months ago

Note

Did you like the first chapter? I'm pretty intrigued so far, though I have to say Ratau's personality was quite surprising considering how he is in the game. I have a feeling that maybe he will be the one to betray the Lamb considering that change. I can't wait for the next chapter!

Spoilers for COTL comic chapter one below! I will be tagging "cotl comic spoilers" from now on. Please block this tag if you don't want to be spoiled!

Spoilers include plot/character talk and a singular image.

Did I like the first chapter???? Did I LIKE THE FIRST CHAPTER??? I've been going through it with a fine toothed comb and loving EVERY MINUTE OF IT!!!

Ahem.

So, I love this characterization of Ratau.

In the game we already saw hints that he maybe had a little bit of trouble letting go of the red crown. The fact he wears one made of paper is weird enough, but the fact he has the same paper crowns filling his house and on his shrine hints at this imo. I know game cannon ≠ comic cannon, but I had the idea Ratau may hold a little jealousy even before the comic because of this, so I was really excited to see the idea play out.

But if you look at it from his point of view, it kind of makes sense.

At least in the comic so far, it seems that Ratau is incredibly devoted to TOWW. He's offended that The Lamb is taking Narinder's mission so lightly, that they are seemingly attempting to ignore his orders in order to go on their own revenge quest.

This makes sense, because as a past vessel, Ratau is bound to know well the honor that that sort of job brings. Seemingly, he would be eager to take The Lamb's place, but knows he can not. He's managing someone doing his dream job, and they're just there for the paycheck. It's got to be infuriating!

Especially since he's seemingly older and wiser than the lamb (Though I don't think his or TOWW's use of the word "child" is literal. I think it's more in the same way The Mystic Seller calls The Lamb an infant god.) I can definitely see his frustration. I think that The Lamb is going to kind of "sober up" after Leshy's defeat and finally gain sight of the mission.

Speaking of The Lamb, I really like how they were characterized! A lot of us, including myself, were pretty sceptical of turning a silent protagonist into a fully fledged character, but in my opinion all is looking really very well so far!

I especially the love the sort of cognitive dissonance they have in the beginning. It sets them up to be this wimpy pushover. I know a lot of people may find it hard to believe that someone in those circumstances would be so calm, but as someone who's had a number of near death experiences I thought it was pretty realistic! A sort of humorous disassociation sprinkled with a confusing mix of denial and acceptance. (Though, please note it's been a few years since the last time I've nearly died. My data is a bit outdated.)

Regardless, I like how they are now. It makes a lot of sense, after all, to be a bit peeved at the circumstances. Their dialogue is super witty, though really sad if you think about it, and I have a feeling that when they stop focusing on revenge they're going to crash and feel a lot of things they've suppressed since their death.

But all in all I'm super excited to see where this little lamb goes!

Finally, can we get some Nana appreciation?? Sure she had a small role, but for a first non-game character, she made a really good first impression!

She seems fleshed out with her own little past, backstory, and personality. The traumatized sceptic in me is a bit worried she'll end up as a love interest, but I doubt it. If it does happen, I doubt it'll be in a typical way. This is a game where you're encouraged to marry with multiple people, after all. I don't think that's the case, though. I think I'm just used to old 80's comics where the first female introduced was the main love interest and nothing more 99.999% of the time.

Whatever is done with her, I'm eager for it. So far the writing seems really really good and she made a great first impression as a follower. She makes me EXCITED to see future follower interactions. If they're all written like her, then it's going to be a super enjoyable part of the comic. We love Nana here.

Finally I have some other random thoughts and things I noticed but can't really format in a way that works, so here's a bullet point list.

Apparently wool is very valuable. Now it's not said weather this is because of the lambs becoming less and less or if it was always valuable. Either way, it's and interesting little fact. I wonder if it'll be important later or if it's just trivia. I like to think things like that aren't added for no reason.

I like that they used the real term, 'Endling,' to describe the last of a soon to be extinct species. This knowledge, though, and the discussion with the cultist, implies this has happened many times before with other species. I wonder if they were always driven to extinction through genocide, or if natural factors ever play a role.

The Lamb was sold out for 30 gold coins. This is apparently a lot. It costs almost that much (converting coins to Dollars. Not perfect, I know.) to buy the ingredients for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich where I live in the US. Either there's not much inflation, or The Lamb was sold out for some PB and J.

I believe the thirty gold coins is a reference to the 30 silver coins Judas was given in exchange for selling out Jesus in Christian lore. If so, I like that detail! Very neat.

It's implied that the bishops are making life hell for EVERYONE while they drive off the lambs. This is interesting, and also a reflection of real life. Bonus points.

Does The Lamb really count as a non believer if they clearly believe in the bishops existence?? I mean they see them right there with no surprise.

Kallamar is shiny. Knew it. He also has tentacles.

It could just be the perspective, but Leshy seems taller than the other bishops.

BAAL AND AYM!

Let's all appreciate how well TOWW's chains and restraints were drawn. All those different perspectives must have been hell but it looks so good.

Chubby cheeks Narinder :)

Sharp teeth lamb! Possibly due to the crown??

So no head??

You. Me.

So no head?? x2

The lamb has guilt and second thoughts about the killing they must do to achieve their goals. Nice.

Cultist roles have hierarchy to them. Neat.

The Lamb's eyes water upon seeing light for the first time in who knows how long...sob.

Again, beautiful art.

There's lots of focus on The Lamb's fangs. Are they important or just stylistic, I wonder??

The crown seemingly has a mind of its own or is watching.

It's implied The Lamb has some sort of death powers already

So no head?? x3

CLAUNECK. MY BE FUCKING LOVED.

Needless to say I have so many THOUGHTS and can't wait for the next chapter. Happy reading, you guys!

#tober preaches #thanks for the ask! i was so hype to ramble aboit this eheheheheh #cult of the lamb #cotl comic spoilers #cotl comic

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ellesthots · 6 months ago

Text

Fateful Beginnings

XXII. “gone missing”

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce is preoccupied at the next City Hall meeting, where the first candidate arrives to make his mayoral bid.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, anxiety, talk of mental illness

words: 3.2k

a/n: the first fully Bruce Wayne POV chapter! love getting inside that man’s mind

Much to his chagrin, Bruce showed up early to the meeting in hopes that he might catch you before it began. He kept himself from thinking about the John Doe by staying up brainstorming gentle questions to ask you tonight. He figured since you didn't trust him, and quite honestly he also did not trust you, you might benefit from getting to know each other better. The only questions he'd been able to manifest on his own were superficial ones, like what's your favorite color and what was your favorite school subject growing up? He quite liked the latter, but figured it a bit redundant assuming how much you appeared to enjoy journalism.

The foyer was as it was; that same chemical rain scent mingling with Chanel number 5, a scent that drove him nearly to tears it bored and triggered him so immediately. The same golden chandelier hung in the middle, the same clusters of people hung in circles atop the warm-toned jacquard rug. If you looked at a photo of the entryway, you might think outside the windows hid an Italian villa with bright grapevines swaying in the breeze. Instead, the gargantuan absorbent mat by the door was soaked to the brim, its fibers screaming and stretching past comfort to be wrung and laid to rest. It was dreary, and dark, and smoggy, as it always was in Gotham.

Right as nostalgia for old family vacations threatened to cocoon him, a wide-shouldered, tall man in a passably pressed suit approached. Bruce grinned and reached out his hand on instinct, hiding his surprise when the stranger opened his arms wide and went for a hug. The man's cologne was sharp, cutting through the usual mildewy accompaniment. He couldn't place it. "Mr. Bruce Wayne! How incredible to finally meet you." When he pulled back he bared his teeth, gleamingly white and straight like they were physically held together by some meticulously hidden brace. Bruce kept his mysterious. "And you, Mr...?"

"Call me Lincoln." He stuck out a hand this time, which tugged up the side of Bruce's mouth to bare his canine. Where did this guy blow in from? "Lincoln March, I'm up for mayoral election this November."

The candidates. In his desperation the past week he'd forgotten all about researching, to which he pictured you a few minutes from now flipping through flawless notes of yours. Of course you'd done your due diligence, likely with a bulleted list of questions in rolling cursive to distract from your vice grip on whoever you'd set to analyze. Lincoln's handshake was timely and firm, which always read to Bruce as rehearsed and performative. His eyes were startlingly green, his voice smooth but ragged at the edge of his sentences. He had a few nicks from shaving, a pinprick of shave foam forgotten near his left ear. He smiled incessantly, but the absence of lines around his eyes confirmed his suspicions. Another schmoozer.

"Call me Bruce." Play nice...

"You're just the guy I wanted to see." Of course, the richest man in the room. Shocker. "You see, I think you and I are aligned when it comes to seeing Gotham underneath it all; greater than the sum of its parts. A prolific city packed with diversity, simply desperate for some TLC."

Jesus Christ. "And you think you can guide Gotham there?"

Lincoln nodded assuredly, his shoulders bobbing with him. "Absolutely. The other candidates want to transform Gotham into something it's not. A tourist destination, a drive-by freakshow."

"Which is why you chose to say your piece first, I assume."

He nodded again and snapped his fingers. "Bingo!" He straightened and glanced toward the ground before shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes stared at the back wall, then over to Bruce. His voice lowered and his smile faded. "Look, I can see you're not one for the song and dance. I know what this city took from you. But you're still here, aren't you? Trying to make the city a better, safer place. I want to help you do that."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. The demeanor shift was instant, and tense. The man thought he was losing his grip, and Bruce was beginning to feel more and more like a walking bank account. "I look forward to hearing your pitch in the meeting." As if on cue, the man opened the conference room's door and called for people to file in. Five minutes to start. Bruce lifted his eyes and scanned the room. No, no, nope, not you, no, nope, no. Lincoln's brow furrowed. "Can I help you find someone?"

Lincoln's voice fell into the backrooms of his mind as his heartbeat pulsed in his ear. He felt himself turn a few shades whiter, hoping the man's earnest distracted him from noticing. His fingertips felt cold and clammy. He knew he should have gone after you, he knew he shouldn't have trusted you were safe. At this point a missing person's report wouldn't do much good, you could be anywhere across the globe, already turned to mulch after being eviscerated from an unsuspecting garbage truck's teeth.

A short blonde woman slipped into the foyer, and she spun on her heel to survey the room so quickly she nearly tumbled to the floor. The memory caused a painful jolt to slice down his stomach. Lincoln leapt into action and walked over to steady her, but when he'd moved to help she lit up seeing Bruce just behind. She held a notebook and a PRESS badge. Where were you? She rushed over and introduced herself as Bridgit. Were you safe? "I'm with Gotham University, I came to interview you for the Gazette."

She had his full attention. "GU? Journalism department?" She nodded. "Do you have anyone on their way to meet you?"

Bridgit shook her head and dug the pen out from inside the notebook spiral. "I just have a few questions, we can get it done quickly,"

"I'm sorry, where's the journalist from last week?" He didn't know why, but saying your name felt like betraying a secret. He searched her face and ignored the curiosity of the candidate behind her. She shrugged and finally fished out the pen with a subtle click and asked her first question. "Mr. Wayne, do you have a preference for a particular candidate yet for Gotham's mayor?"

"Where's Y/N?" His eyes bored into her notebook. Your handwriting was far better. Would he ever see it again? She didn't react, continuing to pen another question like he hadn't spoken. Until this point he'd thought nothing could be worse than people hanging onto his every word but no, now he knew it was being wittingly ignored. He thought about snatching her pen and staring her down until she divulged your whereabouts, but Lincoln leaned his head in to diffuse the suspense. "Who now? Y/N who?" He smiled again and Bruce grit his teeth.

Bridgit sighed very impatiently, he noted, and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. She was flustered, but why? "I don't know who you speak of."

Bruce's brow furrowed into a glare. "You're with the Gazette, right? She is too." Guilt. It was guilt that was making him so consumed by this. Guilt at having shoved you into dangerous circumstance, guilt about not following up on a finger-painted window that held no innate credibility. She asked another question that he didn't hear, and in a split-second decision he decided against storming out to find you, instead heading into the conference room without a care in the world for what your replacement had to say.

Lincoln sat to the right of him at the head of the table, the seat with a placard stating CANDIDATE reserving it. He held the placard in his hands and tapped it against the wood a few times, seemingly mulling something over. He leaned over to Bruce just as Mr. Convoy turned to introduce the first visiting candidate. Lincoln stood and bowed as everyone clapped, and did a brief introduction before Convoy goaded him on. "Come now, you came here to persuade us into electing you as Gotham City's new mayor: introduce your cause!" With that he sat down, leaving Lincoln alone and standing very tall above the table. Bruce shut his eyes in a desperate attempt to quiet his thoughts, the only one bringing him back being memory of his father's own campaign speech. It was imperative he heard what this man wanted for Gotham.

"I feel out of place here, to be frank with you all. I don't come from money or any real notability; in fact, this suit here I rented from Men's Warehouse. Clearance rack." He paused and listened for laughs that came in abundant whispers. He set the placard down on the wood and heaved a breath from the bottom of his lungs. He paused just long enough to stir discomfort. "I'm not here to convince you of a radical, perfect plan to resuscitate Gotham. I don't believe this city needs a savior." Bruce shifted in his seat.

"I believe this city is good, and can make itself good. It needs resources that are correctly allocated, and someone who does not stigmatize the different struggles that plague not just this town, but many others. Someone who is on their team, not flying high above them." This caused Bruce to shift in his seat again, this time stifling paranoid panic about another vague bird reference. "I want to decrease homelessness. I want to fund our public schools, not just GU. I want to increase paid sick leave, maternity leave and introduce paternity leave. We can offset these costs by increasing taxes on, well, all of you." Lincoln glanced around the room to see a few people narrow their eyes, some even crossing their arms in less subtle disapproval. What a day for Y/N to miss, it was like you'd been cloned.

"And I know that sounds frustrating, but I know you all would appreciate cleaner, happier streets. Your net worths will be inconsequentially affected from an everyday standpoint, and as a gift you get to feel a sense of pride for helping the city." He was rapidly losing the small crowd, who began to snicker and grumble about themselves. He slammed his hand just hard enough against the tabletop to regain control of the room. He shook his head. "I'm only saying the quiet part aloud. My fellow candidates want the same things I do; they want to get inside your pockets, but they want to be deceptive in doing it. I want to work with you, with transparency, to assure your funds are being put to good use and we see real improvement in this city. If elected, I promise to work tirelessly, endlessly, for the benefit of you and all the other people of Gotham."

"What makes you think you're owed our hard-earned money?" A man dressed in a Prada suit pouted at the candidate. A few yeah!s were expressed, and Lincoln shrugged. "The city isn't left with many resources, and I guarantee you have more money than you can ever spend. Don't you want to build a legacy with it?"

"It's our choice what we want our legacy to be!"

"We'll make sure you never get elected with this bold-faced thievery!"

Bruce had had enough. He stood quickly beside him and placed a hand on Lincoln's shoulder. "We should wait to hear what the other candidates have to say in the following weeks. They could be better, they could be worse; but the worst thing we can do right now, ladies and gentlemen, is come to a premature decision." He balled his obscured hand into a painfully tight fist to combat a massive eye roll. "You all love this city as much as I do; my father wanted the same things for Gotham as Mr. March, and no one wants to remove you from financial security." This was too perfect of an opportunity to play up his persona, so very, very begrudgingly, he took it. "I promise you, if we can no longer afford our Beluga caviar and Tiffany bracelets I will personally destroy Mr. March." Bobbing shoulders and grins were seen around the room, with a smattering of tentative nods.

Having effectively dodged a riot, the rest of the meeting went relatively smoothly. No one was paying mind to Lincoln, who raised his hand at regular intervals but was decidedly ignored. He couldn't shake the spiraling thoughts of how much you would've lived and died to witness this meeting, watching the rich people quiver and snivel at the prospect of their pockets turned out. But you were not here, and there was a possibility you were not anywhere at all but returned to the dirt. At the meeting's adjournment, Bridgit waited eagerly at the door for Bruce to walk past and Lincoln muttered a quick acknowledgement. "Wayne. Thanks for having my back there."

Bruce nodded absentmindedly, stretching his neck to look outside the door and into the lobby. It confused Lincoln, watching the man's pupils shoot side to side, up and down, every which direction. "I can't help but think you're looking for someone." He didn't take the bait, so he pressed further. "Y/N, was that it?"

He bristled at the mention of your name, hesitated before nodding, and spoke an old truth to cover himself. "We had an interview set." He eyed Bridgit and groaned.

"I had a girlfriend once in college with a problematic ex; he'd come into work asking for her schedule. They weren't allowed to give it out."

Bruce looked over at the man. "You're saying it's policy not to divulge whereabouts of employees?" He felt embarrassed the second the sentence left his tongue, berating himself for the obviousness of his oversight. Another way he was different, not understanding basic logistics of the working class.

"Correct. The young lady by the doorway might not be legally allowed to tell you."

The legality now apparent did not rid himself of anxiety, it exaggerated it elsewhere. If he could not find out via your workplace (the only place that knew you existed in this metropolis), he was left with two options with equally miserable consequences: try to find you, or leave it alone. If he went looking and he found you, you'd have reason to hate him, thus fuel to nuke his reputation, not to mention the guilt of going back on a promise; if he did not look for you, he would never be alleviated of his guilt that he hadn't at least attempted to save you from the danger he put you in. How could he go on as usual knowing he could have done more? What if you'd simply called out sick and she was a temporary replacement? The tale of the problematic ex ping-ponged within him, reminding him of another alternative: he had scared you away, and you'd left the position to avoid seeing him. Before the emotions of that could burrow into his chest, he resorted to waiting until the following week to see if you'd returned. After a two week hiatus at a new job, there was higher probability you were out of his weekly rotation permanently; whether that meant you were dead or quit the position was another matter entirely, one which he could tackle more sufficiently next—

"Wayne? Hello?"

Bruce blinked at Lincoln, who stared at him with a blend of confusion and concern. He thanked Lincoln for coming, and began to walk away, not before he held out a business card for the billionaire to take—which he took swiftly, kindly, and hurried off. Right past Bridgit shouting interview requests at him, right past the throngs of people waiting for his attention at the exit, and over to the valet which stood waiting with his key in hand. The drive home was quick and dangerous, when he pulled into the cave he felt like he'd blinked and been transported into his seat at the computer. Television static frizzed his brain circuitry until he'd stared at an empty SEARCH screen for fifteen minutes. Alfred, concerned he had not come back and immediately went to the kitchen for dinner scraps, clunked his way out of the elevator and stood behind the boy. A hand on his shoulder startled Bruce, who groaned and pressed ESCAPE. "Jesus Alfred,"

"Mulligatawny's in the fridge, I thought you wouldn't have missed that warm for the world."

"I've been preoccupied." He placed his chin in his hand and slumped over the desk. He was this close to having the answers, just a month ago he'd spent a whole week ramping up the internet speed in there. In a single millisecond he could have the answer, or be closer to the answer. Yet nothing could propel him to push the keys. Alfred was quiet behind him, but not a good quiet; not the quiet of him being lost in a song, or mulling over the duties for the next few days. This quiet was weighted, waiting for Bruce to speak or to pester it out of him. He started with a softball.

"Bad news at the meeting?" At least, Bruce thought he might start with a softball. Alfred wondered in secret if the boy's distress was due to the disorder he presumed was creeping up on him. Bruce had a feeling he wasn't being transparent, and groaned when Alfred spoke again. "You don't have to attend the meetings, you know. The world would go on if Bruce Wayne, or, better yet Batman took a bit of a rest." He noticed the old man's watery smile in the empty reflection of the unused computer screen.

"I don't need more rest." Bruce murmured. Alfred shot a challenging look. He rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from the desk. "I'm getting some food." As he waited for the elevator (it had taken to going back up to the top stair upon arriving in the basement), he considered asking about you. Talking the situation over with him. It wasn't an invasive search, but a conversation that could help him get out of his own mind. But. He hadn't brought you up since you'd left. If he spoke now, it would be a can of worms. The questioning wouldn't cease. Alfred would assume, and pursue, and blow his concern up beyond what it was. He'd wait. He'd wait, and if you still weren't at the next meeting he'd make a decision at that point. Only then would he be able to accurately weigh the consequences of action and inaction. No earlier. In the meantime, he'd have to endure it.

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bumpkinspice0 · 11 months ago

Text

Parallels Chapter 17: What Is Meant To Be?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: You're going to die. It's written in the canon. The canon must always be obeyed... right?

Warnings: Angst O'clock, Talks of death, Near death experience???? Miguel loves so hard, SMUT (again finally) Oral (Fem receiving), Window sex??, sweet sweet desperation

A/N: I worked hard to get this out quickly because I felt bad about making everything so sad lately 😅 Though there still might be enough angsty to make it plenty sad, Idk. I'm sorry anyway

Previous. - Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 17

What Is Meant To Be?

“Play it again.”

“Miguel, I don’t think–”

“Play it again.”

The simulation of the dingey warehouse restarts. Nothing more than a prediction. A vision of what's to come. A supposed hostage situation set up by the remnants of the Fisk family—a trap for you. It was so simple. He’d seen you dodge gunfire and fight practical monsters, but this is what does it? Trapped inside a warehouse rigged to explode. As indestructible as spiders seemed to be, no one could rightly survive a roof falling on them. A spider can’t dodge bullets forever.

They’d find your body 3 days later, likely a memorial erected in your honor as well as a day of citywide grieving. And two months later a certain captain’s daughter would take up the mantle— and you’d be replaced and slowly forgotten.

There was a 98.9% chance of likelihood for these events. It might as well be a hundred at that point.

You were going to die. This is how you were going to die.

It was predicted to happen within the hour and Miguel was just sitting here waiting for it to happen. How morbid, he scolds himself. He sits there helpless, a pitiful excuse for a hero.

“Mig, I’m so sorry,” Lyla’s small form comes to sit next to his hand, her own small hand mimicking stroking motions over his forearm.

“You weren’t going to tell me.” he mumbles, eyes still locked on the screen of a smoldering building where your body would be dug up from. Only a simulation. It hadn’t happened. Not yet.

“I didn’t know how to. I was… scared.”

“Scared,” He scoffs, “You?”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her, Miguel.'' The AI bites out harshley. It almost catches him off guard. He’s so used to seeing her so bubbly, so quirky and fun. As annoyed as he seemed by it, he always appreciated it. Gabe was smart in programming her to be so fun. He needed someone like that in his life. Someone to help cut through his bullshit. You played that role as well.

“We’ve lost a lot of friends in this job, haven’t we Lyla?”

“We have.”

Miguel expected to be ragging at this point, an inconsolable beast wreaking havoc on his lab. Angry, like he had been since you left. Instead, he’s just numb. Was your fate that easy to accept?

The spider-sense lulls in his head, finally quieting down after the month of torture. Did that mean it knew what was to come? Would he feel it? When you—

He finally buries his face in his hands, muffling a defeated sob. Ah, there’s the tears. After the self-inflicted torture he’d put you both through, this is how it ends? You die and he has to watch it happen like a helpless child on the sidelines. This is the burden he’d taken. He’d done this so many times before. He’d watched horrible things happen because it was the will of the canon— but with you it was… you were…

“Lyla, I’d like to see the probability diagnostics,” He swallows the sorrow, hoping the cold unfeeling numbers of an algorithm might put him at ease. If this was to happen, maybe looking at the ripple effects of it would help him cope. A sacrifice for the greater good of it all.

The equations and graphs illuminate around him, all of them infallible. This was going to happen. And what would your death bring to the multiverse? Nothing. A small blip in the grand scope of it all. A speck of dust in the cosmos, just like all of them.

But if your death was so small, then what could that mean if it didn’t happen?

The thoughts he’d been suppressing suddenly flood his mind. He’s not helpless here. The power to change your fate rested on his wrist, your life so easily saved by the simple push of a button. He’d risked something like this before, but it was different this time. Could saving a life have the same effect? He’d replaced a life, but saving a life…There’s no way to know. And he didn’t have time to run the numbers. He had to act—- now.

“Miguel?” Lyla’s voice chirps up behind him, “What are you doing?”

What is he doing? He looks down to see he’d already typed in the coordinates to your universe. Had he already decided and didn’t realize it? Was it that easy?

“I…” He looks down at the watch. A single push of a button. That’s all it would take. “I don’t know.”

“I know… this is hard,” She hovers at his wrist now, clearing the coordinates from the watch, “But we can’t interfere with—”

“All we’ve done is interfere,” He bites out in a voice he doesn’t recognize. “How is this different?”

Did he really believe that?

Hypocrite, he scolds himself.

Reasoning. He was trying to reason for it. Bargaining for your life to justify his own selfish actions.

He types in the coordinates again, and Lyla clears them before he finishes. He growls, clawing through her projection.

“You’re not thinking, Miguel!” She urges. “I know this is hard. But you can’t. You know you can’t.”

He knows she’s right, he’s not thinking. He doesn’t care. If he could pull this off, if he could save you, then he’d figure it out. He always did. There had to be limits he could push. Options he never considered. Whatever it would take, just to assure your safety.

“You have to understand what’s at stake here.” Lyla says again, her pixelated eyes pleading with him. Despite her seeming so human in every way, she was still just a program doing her job. She was his fail-safe, an assurance to make sure past mistakes weren’t repeated— and now she’s the only thing standing in his way.

“Yes, I do understand,” He says coldly, calmly walking across the lab— to Lyla’s control panel. “It’s time you remember who’s in charge.”

“Don’t even think about it!” She grows to full size. Projections explode behind her, raging fire, explosive blinding lights— all mere illusions. It does nothing to stop him. While she ran things, multiverse travel was still completely operable without her. He opens the panel and begins typing in the reboot code. It’s the one area of the tower she has no control over.

Arachni-bots scurry towards him before falling dead with another push of a button. She’s trying everything. He has to work quickly.

“I’ve called Gabe,” Lyla warns, “Emergency protocol is initiated. He’ll know.”

“Fine, I don’t care.” Miguel punches in the final sequence and all of Lyla’s projections begin to fade. Only her flicking form remains. It’ll take her at least an hour to reboot, that’s more than enough time.

A portal to earth-727 bursts to life in front of him.

“Think about it, Miguel!” Lyla tries to reason one last time as her projection starts to fade, “All of this— Everything— for one person? It’s not worth it.”

He pauses at the portal's entrance, the pull of the spider-sense urging him to step forward.

“Yes. She is.”

The sense crescendos as he shoots through reality, across time and space to save you. The anticipation builds, the anxiety of racing against the clock. He burst through the portal already swinging, taking a quick assessment of his surroundings. Without Lyla to guide his exact location he could've only ended up in a 3-mile radius of you. The sun had already set. He was in Brooklyn, the southside by the looks of it. The warehouse was in the center of Queens, not far but he had to hurry.

As he swings the rest of his emotions come flooding in. The guilt. The shame… the undeniable love for you. How could he have thought such things? How could have just sat by while he watched you die? Had this job really made him so callous? So cold to the world at large?

When did Spider-Man stop trying to save everyone?

You’d given yourself to him so freely and he’d meet your affections with so much disdain— yet you treated him with kindness anyway. You were patient with him like no one had been before, he didn’t deserve it. Yet he won’t give it up. Not anymore.

He’d make it up to you. He’d make it all up to you starting tonight.

The warehouse is in sight. You’d be swinging in from the east. He could easily stop you before you got anywhere near the building. He perches himself on the highest rooftop half a block east of the rigged warehouse and waits. Checking the time, you’d be swinging at any moment, give or take a few minutes.

He waits… and he waits.

He’s not sure how much time has passed before he starts pacing. Did he miss you? No, he has no doubt the spider-sense would have honed in on you.

The spider-sense… in his blind panic he hadn't paid it any mind. Surely being in your dimension would send the alarms blaring in his head. Instead, it was like it was…. Muted. Smothered under something he didn’t recognize. What did that mean?

What if it meant you were already dead?

Dread pushes him off the roof and swinging towards the harrowing warehouse. Crawling up to the closest window, he peers inside. Three armed men stand in the center of the massive room, barrels of explosives around them.

“Where the hell is she?” one of them grumbles, “Doesn’t she usually show up way before the cops? Did Tony call it in?”

“Of course he did,” the second one sighs.

“If she doesn’t come then this was all for nothin’.”

“She’ll come. She always comes.”

“Shut up, both of you,” the final one hisses, turning around to scold the other two. “Look.”

He gives a faint nod to his right… directly at Miguel.

The first bullets whiz past Miguel’s shoulder, one knicking his suit. He was spotted. Idiot. How could be so careless? He barely manages to swing out of sight.

“Christ, don’t shoot in here!” The leader of the three shouts, “Might as well light a fucking match!”

“Fuck you, I’m not letting that bitch get away!” They think Miguel is you? He could hear them arguing, perched safely on the roof. Well that confirms it, you weren’t here.

“She’s here. We got her and I’m not gonna let her pick us off one by one. I’m getting justice for the boys she locked up.” The threatening statement is followed by the unmistakable cock of a gun.

Oh no.

“Wait— WAIT—'' One of them pleads before a shot goes off, immediately followed by a domino fall of explosions.

Miguel just barely swings to safety, the flames licking at his heels.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He chants as he rounds the corner onto a rooftop. It happened. The explosion paints the night in harsh oranges, shattering windows and setting off car alarms for miles. He hears police sirens finally approaching. Your death had happened— and you weren’t there for it.

You weren’t there.

Relief overtakes him, dropping him to his knees. He’s not sure if he wants to cry or vomit. Quelling the boiling cauldron of emotions in his brain, he forces himself to focus. He hones in on the spider-sense— desperately humming in the forefront of his mind. It was trying to tell him something. Trying to tell him where you were.

With a wary step forward, he follows it.

________

An emergency distress call from some random universe you’d never heard of. You can’t remember the last time you answered one. Probably when the tower was attacked. They were never meant to be ignored either.

Jess called it in, and with her being so far along in her pregnancy you leaped immediately to help her, along with a good handful of all of your other spider-comrades. She’d just entered her third trimester and you’re truly amazed she’s still working this diligently.

“Gotta get it all out of my system now,” She’d scoffed to you when she’d first announced it, “That and I know you guys can’t do this without me, better help you out now.”

Jessica Drew, always so humble to the point she wouldn’t allow herself maternity leave. God, you loved her but you’d wished she would slow down.

Since she showed no signs of taking a break, offering a helping hand whenever she needed it was the best you could do.

Tonight she certainly needed it, being caught in a sudden gathering of symbiotes. You and about ten other spiders answered the call, just in time it seemed.

You hated symbiotes. It wasn’t as easy as punching them and knocking them out, you had to be clever. Play to their very specific weaknesses— Fire and loud noises. That and they were just nasty fuckers. It's a good chance for you to blow off some steam. You didn’t have to hold back when it came to symbiotes, and for once, that was a good thing.

An hour of messy fighting and a lot of loud noises and fire later, they were all contained. It admittedly felt good to be part of a team effort after your rather less-than-stellar month. These were still your people, they didn’t stop being your people just because Miguel wasn’t part of your circle anymore.

A massive portal opened back to HQ. You’re cue to leave for home.

“Hey,” Jess grabs your shoulder before you can hit the button home, “Come back to the tower with me.”

“I— why?” you’re aware of how cold it comes out.

Jess immediately furrows her brows, “Because I haven’t talked to you in forever and I wanna buy you a coffee so you can describe what it tastes like to me.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, “You miss coffee that much, huh?”

“And booze. And sushi. And hot tubs. And—” She drapes her arm around your shoulder as she continues, leading you over to her bike. Well, if she’s offering a fun ride, who are you to say no?

Yes, you’d been avoiding the tower like a plague just because he’s there. You feel him when you’re closer, the sense jumping at the proximity alone. Just because it was Miguel’s tower though, didn’t mean you weren’t welcome. Your friends were there. Your community. Spider Tower wasn’t just a monolith to Miguel, it was for all of you.

You wonder if you should tell Jess about it all. If anyone would understand it’d be her. You’d probably get a few good minutes of reprimanding you for being so stupid, but then she’d go full protective mode and be your human shield against the big bad Spider-Man 2099. That and the pregnancy hormones were making her more irritable. That’s what friends did, though— right? Made things easier for one another. That and you wanted another shoulder to cry on.

You will tell her, eventually. Not tonight but… soon.

You both burst into the tower, Jess skidding the bike to a spiraling stop.

“I hate it when you do that.” you sigh into her back.

“You spend all day swinging around a city and a little bike ride makes you dizzy?” She scoffs, flipping out the kickstand.

“Yes, shut up,” You groan, practically melting off the bike. Suddenly, You remember why you don’t always accept rides from her, “Why do you ride a bike anyway? Your webs seem perfectly fine.”

“Just to look cool,” She muses, bouncing her hard to the side. Well… you can’t deny that fact. She always did look pretty cool.

The spider-sense was revving in the back of your head. A few weeks ago it would have driven you insane, now it’s just another thing to ignore. Like a cast over a broken bone or an itchy rash. You’d trained yourself to live with advanced senses, you could train yourself to get used to this.

At least until you were ready to take the cure.

You’re halfway to the cafeteria when it’s too much, the sense jumping like a punch to the back of your head. You stumble forward, blindsided by the effects.

“Jeez, you okay?” Jess grabs your arm.

“Fine! Fine…. I think.” You assure her halfheartedly.

The sense calms down into a more annoying ringing, but still stronger than when you first entered the building. Why was it acting up now?

A familiar voice calling your name is your answer. You turn around and there he is, standing at the end of the hallway.

Miguel— and god, he looks awful.

Of course he had to show up when you were starting to feel like yourself again. The sense almost causes you to burst out in tears at the sight of him alone. It was a relief. It was a nightmare.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

He takes a few timid steps toward you, “I… I need to talk to you.”

“Why?” you immediately spit back.

“It’s important,” He simply says. This was a bad idea. You want to go with him so badly but you know if you do it’ll open up all of your wounds again.

“What’s going on, Mig?” Jess, bless her, tries to intervene.

“This is between me and her,” Miguel bites out coldly. Jess didn’t often tolerate his bitchy behavior, but she turns to you instead. Her eyes look to you to see if everything is okay— a silent communication only women seemed to possess the power of.

“It’s fine, Jess,” You pat her shoulder assuredly, “I’ll describe some coffee to you later.”

She doesn’t look convinced that it is, in fact, fine but carries on her way regardless. She knew you well enough to be sure that you could handle yourself. She’d suspected something probably since the beginning. Yeah, you really need to come clean to her eventually.

“What do you want?” You practically hiss at Miguel. He barely moves, simply pressing a button on his watch. A portal springs up on your right.

“Not here,” He gestures to the spinning portal. Of course, this all had to be cryptic for no reason. Just another thing to torture you right now. You groan and step through the portal.

It was like walking through a door, your feet landing on solid ground in less than a blink of an eye. A quick glance around and you see you’re in Miguel’s home. It’s dark, the only light coming from the glowing city outside.

You turn to him as he exits the portal behind you.

“We couldn’t have taken the sta—”

You don’t even finish the sentence before he pulls you into him, strong arms crushing you against his chest. You’re not sure what you expected… but it wasn’t this.

It’s embarrassing how good it makes you feel almost immediately. Like just his touch cured your countless sleepless nights. The familiar warmth of his arms seeping into your varying being as if he was holding your soul. Was a hug always this good? It’s certainly better than the last one you shared with him.

The realization jolts you out of his embrace. You weren’t supposed to be together anymore. You weren’t supposed to be doing this shit anymore— right?

“What the hell, Mig?” is all you manage to gasp out.

He stands there, unmoving, his arms still reaching out after you. You can’t read his face, his expression almost blank. Shocked, maybe?

“I… I don’t know—I had to—” he pulls his hands back, examining them as if he’s just killed someone, “Where were you?”

“Where was—” you balk out an annoyed laugh. Is that why he brought you up here, to check in on you? Toying with this all like some child, “On a mission with Jess, doing my job. Are you spying on me now? Do I have to report to you still?!”

He says nothing, letting your harsh yelling linger in the large space. He looks at you again, something you don’t recognize in his eyes. Suddenly all your anger is replaced with pity. What was happening?

“You’re—” He choked on his words, just for a moment, “You’re okay?”

“Am I o—” You take a step towards him, willing yourself not to reach out and touch him. Trying so desperately to hold up that wall. The resistance you’re not sure you had.

The spider-sense… is screaming.

“Miguel… you’re scaring me.”

He nods as if to say I’m scared too. Scared of what, though? You gulp as you break the barrier. You reach out and cradle his massive hands in yours. He sighs at your touch. Something horrible happened… or was going to happen—something to bring this warrior to his knees in a way you’d never seen before.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he admits shakily. “Little spider, I think I—”

“What do you need?” you ask immediately.

You see the corners of his mouth twitch up just briefly. Cute, but not an answer.

“What happened?” You push.

His hands trail up your arms and come to cup your face. Your eyes flutter, almost instinctively. “Just… just tell me you're okay. Right now. In this moment.”

“Mig—”

You’re not sure who does it. If he pulls your lips to his or if you jump up to meet him. Does it really matter? He tasted like freedom. Like the relief you’d been searching for all these weeks. Had you forgotten so easily? The taste of him. The feel of him. Something so indescribable— like a drug. He was your drug.

It’s a handsy fury, ripping off your clothes as you seemingly try to will his to fade away. There was no time for pleasantries, not this time. There was only hunger— unsatiated, gnawing hunger.

Need. You needed him.

He backs you against the windows, their sudden coldness sending chills up your naked body.

“Miguel, please—” you urge, for what exactly, you’re not entirely sure. Whatever he was willing to give you.

“Te tengo. Te tengo…” He chants as his mouth glides down your body, from your neck, between your breasts, and finally to your waiting cunt.

He engulfs your heat greedily. You don’t recall ever screaming so loud. Sweet, perfect relief. He was perfect.

He brings both of your legs over his shoulders and holds you there, your bare back pressed against the glass for all the world to see— not that anyone likely would from this height. And not that you really cared right now anyway. There was only him. Him. Him!

God, you missed his skillful mouth. Hungerly lapping at you like it nourished his very soul. It did, you suppose in a way. The sinful hunger helped both of you in its own way. Kept you sane. Kept you alive. You can’t believe you’ve lasted as long as you did without him.

You come embarrassingly fast, but you’re not surprised with how much you had pent up over the last month. The orgasm rips you apart like an atom bomb, exposing your raw nerves underneath. Your vision goes white, your mouth goes dry. It was everything you were trying to give yourself all those lonely nights— Miguel gave it to you in two minutes.

His mouth still sloppily runs between your legs as you come down. You squirm in his grasp, your sensitivity now turned up to eleven.

“Miguel,” You plead, “I need you. I need you.”

A rumble emanates from his chest and up your legs as his mouth comes off you. He lowers your legs, holding you at his waist. He stands at his full height again, pinning you there. He trails his mouth back up your torso, pausing at your breasts to lull his tongue over each nipple before he finds your mouth again— his mouth and tongue coated with the taste of you.

“Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho.” he whispers between breaths. You know those words. He’s saying sorry. He’s sorry— you’re sorry too. Sorry for it to have come to this.

He slides inside with a pained moan. Your walls clench around him with familiarity.

“Like you were made for me,” He murmurs as his mouth slides down your neck. Though it’s completely healed over, he knows the mark he left. He stops on it, his tongue tracing the ghost of what was left there. The brand he left on your soul.

He lifts you off his cock and slams back into you brutally. Your head falls back against the window with a defined thunk as he sets a ruthless pace. Bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing at all. That’s alright, he can use you.

Your lude erotic sounds fill the space. Wet skin slapping on wet skin. Desperate wordless moans for more. Always more.

“I missed you. I missed you,” You don’t didn’t even realize you were chanting it until your mouth went dry.

“Shhh,” He nips at your lower lip, “I know. God, I know. I missed you too. I— fuck.”

Even amidst the animalistic lust-fueled frenzy, you could feel him trembling under your touch. His body quivering with more than just desire. Your combined anxieties manifesting into something desperate and terrifying. A need that couldn’t just be quelled with just your hands.

Even in your bliss-fogged mind, you felt like a fool for ever letting something like this go. Something so rare and beautiful.

Ever since it appeared in your life you’d been trying to describe this impossible feeling. What was a shared spider-sense? A piece of you that you shared with someone else. How can you define what felt like pure instinct? Give a name to something that was indescribable?

The only thing you knew was that something felt right when you were together. The world made sense when this man was part of it, as infuriating as he could be at times. You were his, he was yours. Not yours in the sense that he belonged to you, but yours meaning he belonged with you. A pair, a set, forever intertwined.

What was the spider-sense to you?

It was home.

It felt like home. He felt like home.

His hips come to a staggering halt as your second orgasm overtakes you. He bites down on your shoulder as he paints your walls. He stands there just for a moment before lowering you both to the ground on trembling legs. Neither of you speaks, panting out the thinning air between each other. Both of you refuse to let go, afraid that this time would surely be the last time you’d ever touch him. Keep him here, now, forever. Nothing could take him away from you right now.

“Reboot complete.” An ambient voice rings through the room. It was certainly Lyla’s but it sounded… different. More robotic.

“Oh no,” Miguel grumbles, his grip on you tightening.

“What? What is it?” Why do you feel panicked? It’s just Lyla.

Miguel pulls away, worry crossing those burgundy eyes, “I… I have to tell you something.”

Before he can continue, a familiar golden glow springs up in the middle of the room. Pixels form together to make the familiar form of the infamous AI assistant. She turns to face you both. Miguel’s suit instantly appears back on his body. You’re suddenly very aware of your nakedness, despite her being a computer program. You grab for your abandoned suit crumbled on the floor, hurriedly shoving yourself back into it.

“Geez, knock first, Lyla,” You scold her.

“You’re—” the program's gaze darts back to Miguel in an instant, “Miguel, you didn’t.”

Miguel sits there shamefully, like a scolded dog.

“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this anymore,” You come to his defense, slipping your arm into the final sleeve, “It just kind of happened.”

Lyla cock’s her head at you. Was she… confused? Did Lyla get confused? Again, she turns back to Miguel.

“You didn’t tell her?”

An unknown fear pricks at the hairs on your neck, “Tell me what?”

Miguel stands, arms outstretched to console you. His mouth was open and ready with an explanation before he was interrupted again.

“Miguel!” Another voice echoes through the large room as it enters the apartment. Gabe. He pauses at the living room entrance. “Oh no. No no no, Miggy. What is she doing here? Estas loco?!”

“Excuse me?” You start before Miguel comes to your defense.

“She’s here because I chose for her to be here,” He steps in front of you, “She has a right to be here.”

“You’re not God, Miguel,” Gabe marches over, slapping his older brother in the chest. Miguel doesn’t react, “You don’t get to make these decisions. No one does.No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer—”

“I’ve told you this is not the same. Ella es diferente,” Miguel bites out, looming over Gabe. The younger brother does not back down.

“Bullshit!”

“Hey!” You finally scream. All eyes in the room snap to you in an instant, some angrier than others. “Someone please… tell me what’s happening.”

You see Gabe’s defenses drop, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a step away.

“Jesucristo, Mig.” You hear him mumble into his hand.

Miguel looks back to you, some kind of horrifying desperation pulling at his features. You’re not sure why, but it scares you.

“Arañita… Sit down. I have something to tell you.”

_______

Translations:

Te tengo. Te tengo…: I’ve got you. I’ve got you...

Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho: I’m sorry, little spider. I’m so sorry.

No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer– : I can’t believe you’re making the same mistakes again. I can’t believe—

Ella es diferente: She’s different

Jesucristo, Mig: Jesus Christ, Mig

Please please please let me know if any of this is wrong

________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3 @del-ightfulling

Taglist post here!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #parallels fic #miguel o'hara smut

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dangerousartisanwerewolf · 2 months ago

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To All Americans doom scrolling Tumblr right now:

First and foremost I am so sorry for all of you guys. You all did your part but hatred seems to have unfortunately won. I am also incredibly disheartened for all of you and for once in my life I honestly don't know what to say (which is odd for me lol).

Just know

That you did your part. You voted and did your part and that's all you can do.

It's not your fault. Period. Not to sound defeatist but one vote will not decide the fate of an entire election

Life will go on and we will keep on living. I know it doesn't seem like it right now but we will keep going and we will keep living our lives.

Things will get better, it maybe doesnt seem like it right now but things will ger better

I have sadly seen many people on here talk about killing themselves or pleading others to stay alive. As sad as that notion is, it is a very real concern for many now.

As many others have mentioned: PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF OR RELAPSE IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM OVER THE ELECTION RESULTS!!!!!!!!! I know it may feel hopeless and like there is nothing else you can do but please don't. I mentioned many things you can do to distract yourself in a previous post if you want to look.

There are many $u1c1d3 hotlines and other mental health resources available you can access. Please do if you feel like you need to

List of hotlines/ help resources to call/talk to:

Sorry I can't link anything because I am not tech savy but hopefully a list is useful too. Got most of these off of instagram so maybe you'll see the posts circulating around. Keep in mind I am a minor who does not live in the U.S so if these are not the most helpful don't flame me.

LQBTQ Resources:

The 988 lifeline- 988lifeline.org (Call,text, or chat)

The Trevor project- thetrevorproject.org/get-help (24/7 crisis counselling)

SAGE x Hearme-sageusa.org/hearme (On demand mental wellness app)

LGBTQ center directory- lgbtqcenters.org/LGBTCENTERS (Centre directory, find one near you)

PFLAG- pflag.org/findachapter (Find a chapter near you)

QChat space-qchatspace.org (Online Lgbtq community for teens)

Suicide/crisis hotline

Dial 988 or visit 988lifeline.org

Warm lines that don't call the police:

Call blackline- 800-604-5841 (Centre's BIPOC, LGBTQ, Black femme lens)

Trans lifeline-877-585-8660 (U.S number) Canada has one of these too if you need it

Wildflower alliance peer support line- 888-407-4515 (Trained peer supporters

Strong hearts Native helpline- 844-762-8483

Thrive lifeline- 313622-8209 (Trans led and operated)

LGBTQ national help center- 888-843-4564

Hope that helps

Other easy ways to take care of your mental health:

Take a social media break/hiatus

Hang out with friends or family

Get out in nature (Go for a hike, bike ride ect)

distract yourself with comfort media

read

do something creative

practice a hobby

I already have a post with a pretty extensive list of stuff you can do to distract/cope if you need any ideas. I'm not going to copy it all out but its just a little down from this post in my account if you scroll.

Above all please stay safe:

Many have mentioned this but make sure you stay safe too, especially if you are in a red state where people may be looking for an opportunity. As fucked up as it feels to even type this out:

Scrub your socials of anything that may "Give you away" if you feel you need to

If you know someone who is queer, trans, poor, pregnant, an immigrant, needing an abortion, getting an abortion done, or anything that could make living dangerous to them- no you don't. try and keep loved ones safe if you can

Don't out yourself for being any of the above things if you can help it

Don't engage in politics talk with people if you can help it. If someone asks what party you supported don't tell them, they may just be looking for information they can use

One last reminder:

Please remember to:

Eat regular meals/remember to eat at all

Drink water

Take screen breaks (As it will hurt your eyes and give you a headache)

Go to sleep at a regular time

don't bed rot all day

don't doom scroll election content all day

turn off the news at some point, its not healthy to sit and watch the news all day

get out in nature/step outside and touch grass and get some fresh air if you can

talk to your loved ones and seek support if you need

get off social media for a bit (Even if you say all day social media doesnt make a difference to you I know it does)

make sure to take it easy today if you can, take care of your mental health and I hope that everything will be alright for you guys. Stay safe out there

#us elections #us gp 2024 #us election 2024 #election day #presidential election #election #2024 presidential election #kamala for president #mental health #mental heath support #mental heath awareness #kamala harris #kamala 2024 #sad

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st4rbe0m · 5 months ago

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SUMMARY ▸ 20 years ago, a gruesome murder shook the town hard. A type of murder that should've never happened, much less in their quaint town. A lovely family killed in cold blood with an unforgiving axe wielding maniac - a mother, a father and a little girl.

It's been 20 years down the road, hasn't it? Then why are these 10 teenagers stuck in a loop of the same day, being haunted by a little girl who died 20 years ago?

PAIRING ▸ Park Jongseong (Jay) x fem!reader

STARRING ▸ Enhypen members, aespa members (Giselle and NingNing). Any pairings made between Enhypen and aespa members is with clear fictional intent

WC ▸ 2.7K

TAG LIST ▸ open!! send an ask to be added

A/N ▸ I'm so proud of this cliffhanger hehehe had my hands rubbing devious grin on my face and everything as I typed it out. Also thank you for the support on this fic! Pls PLS don't be silent readers and do leave comments and reblogs! I'd love to hear thoughts and remarks from you guys <33

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE THE BODY SEARCH ?

▊ yes -> CHAPTER 6

▊ no -> CHAPTER 4

BODY SEARCH MASTERLIST

The salt air is sticky and tangy on everyone’s tongue, mouths wide open in shrieking laughter and joyous squeals. A much needed break, it was today, the repeat of the day before and the day after, that the group had decided to head down to the beach.

“I can feel my lungs close around me. I can’t breathe guys. I can see the light.” Heesung was sprawled across the stone bench of the school park, while Sunghoon chewed on a mango popsicle and eyed his friend wearily, annoyed by his complaints. “Heesung, you’d probably stop dying if you complained less”, said Sunoo, equally fed up with Heesung - not because the boy was in any serious danger. No, he just missed his girlfriend. Giselle, it seemed, reveled in the time she had with Y/N and NingNing, which made her boyfriend’s spirits shrivel as he was left to hangout with the other boys of their group. “You don’t get it, you guys. It’s withdrawal symptoms. Oh Jungwonie, I can barely even see you, my vision is going out.” Jungwon called out from where he was - completely opposite and in no way near Heesung’s line of sight, as he exclaimed, “I’m nowhere even near you dipshit, of course you can’t see me!”

Jay was sort of done with Heesung’s whining, and if he had to hear about how much Giselle would save Heesung from his fate, his head would explode. So he did the only thing he could think of, the only solution - he dialed Y/N. He had just remembered to ask her for her phone number just yesterday, when they walked to class together. Hands intertwined, sharing warmth, it certainly made his classmates raise hell when they saw the school loner with the school’s golden goose. But it didn’t matter, because they didn’t remember anything today anyways.

The memory of yesterday still had his heart leaping in gleeful somersaults inside him, as he remembered just how beautiful Y/N looked under the waning glow of the sunlight, hair caressing the sides of her face softly, skin that he was sure would feel like heaven under his touch. Maybe if he got bold enough, one day he’d get there. One day, where the sun rose for a second time to greet a different day.

“Jay, you’re thinking something again”. Y/N pointed out as she noticed the furrow in his brow. “Nothing, nothing”. The pair kept walking down, hands now swinging in mild amusement of their circumstances. Now they were recounting their hilarious fails from all their deathly escapades every night - “I honestly don’t know how she found us in the pool! And seriously, I don’t know what got into NingNing that made her think hiding in the pool - a body of water where we can drown easily is a wonderful idea!” Y/N animatedly recounted to Jay, hands flying about as she chatted along in enthusiasm, Jay hanging on to her every word with wonder, as he gazed upon the girl who seemed more talkative than ever now that she’d broken out of her shell. “Wait, you can’t swim?”, asked Jay, who was now more than amused as he got to know of this little tidbit. “Hey, that’s not what you should be focusing on right now.”, she laughed and swatted his arm. “No, no. I just think it’s cute that you haven’t learnt even after the water park.” “Well back then I had you, didn’t I?”. Y/N looked at him with a twinkling mirth, which made his breath hitch in his throat. And having no idea where the surge of confidence came from, he just looked right back into her eyes, and said, “Aw, so you still need me to save you? Just stay close to me, like I said”, flexing a bicep up, he added, “I can fight.”

In any other case, this would’ve had Y/N cringing. But this was Jay. Tall, smart, muscular and chivalrous Jay. So obviously, it just had Y/N standing in a flustered mess as gaping eyes stared into him. Breaking out of the embarrassing stupor, she just continued along, tugging at the boy who was now sporting a confidence in his gait, “Alright, alright we get it, basketball captain.” Offhandedly, she also said, “At least we know Sunghoon can’t save me since he’ll be busy saving Ning”, in reference to the newfound knowledge she had about her friend’s feelings, when she gasped in realization about what she’d spilled. Looking at Jay in shock, she hastily waved her hands around, trying to undo the damage. “Forget I said that! Who even is Sunghoon? I don’t know anyone with that name!”, laughing unsurely. Jay just slowly grabbed the palm of her hand that she’d let go from his, pulling her closer by just an inch to him, as he said smugly, “Don’t worry, I know. Who do you think has been wingman for both of them?”. That’s when Y/N remembered why NingNing and Jay would hangout so often. Softening up from her slip up, her hand relaxed into his as they kept going again. “Yeah, Ning told me and Giselle while we were talking about our crushes.” “Our crushes?”, asked Jay, which had Y/N slightly stiffening up again. Damn Park Jay, she thought, he has me spilling everything out in the open just like that. “Ning has a crush on Hoon, we know this. Giselle and Heesung have been together since eternity. So ‘our’ here would also mean the crush you have on someone, right?”. Damn that Park Jay, was all Y/N could think as she laughed nervously and said, “Well not necessarily right? I don’t think so.” Jay halted Y/N again, still holding her hand. The smile he gave her was dazzling this time, and it seemed that Y/N was collecting all of his charming grins like a bouquet in her mind. “That’s a slight relief.” “Why?” Y/N was confused. Not meeting her eyes, he just said, “Wouldn’t want the prettiest girl in school falling for anyone else now, would we?”

That was yesterday. And today, as Jay had dialed up Y/N and explained Heesung’s lamentations, a half-annoyed, half-charmed Giselle had just asked the boys to meet the girls where they were planning to go - the beach. To have a day off, and as a celebration. Because the group had achieved something they were building up to for a while - they’d collected almost all of the body parts. In fact, only one crucial part was missing. The head. The head of the missing, dead girl was all they had to find, to brave past the girl covered in blood bent on haunting them.

“Last one in the water loses!”, called out an excited Jungwon, breezing past the girls in his striped tank top and pineapple beach shorts. “Someone’s excited”, commented Riki, who was lugging along a picnic basket he’d arranged impromptu. The youngest of their group, albeit quiet, was one of the most thoughtful juniors Y/N had met. Thanking him for his gesture, he just laughed and gave her a cheeky salute as he joined Jake, wrestling the older yet shorter boy into the water. The excited screams of the group were a much-needed contrast from the blood-curdling ones they heard during their deathly games. The girls had quickly changed from their coverups into their beachwear, and Y/N was involved in a serious game of beach volleyball with NingNing on her team, against Sunghoon and Jay. Giselle was lounging on the beach towel as Heesung, who finally got the girlfriend time he was deprived of, sat next to her, lathering sunscreen onto himself. “How is this split even fair? You guys are literally trained athletes”, complained the ever-competitive NingNing, who also did have a fair point. “Fine then, let’s switch. Sunghoon, join NingNing. I’ll join Y/N”. The double intention of these actions didn’t fly past anyone, as all four of them seemed to be hyper aware of themselves now. Sunghoon, who simply greeted Ning with a nod and cleared his throat as he set his eyes on the ball that Jay was serving, stood opposite Y/N, who was also watching Jay, for completely different reasons. The way the heat beating down on them made him sweat, the sheen covering his tan skin deliciously. The way he posed with accuracy with the ball, slender yet toned arms accentuating his biceps. Jay served the ball with precision, and it was immediately received by NingNing as she expertly passed it over to where Y/N was, blushing as Sunghoon praised her as she did. Y/N also caught the ball with a dip, hitting right over the net by a bare minimum, which had Sunghoon pile diving into the sand to catch.

The game went on until Sunghoon and NingNing won, the pair high fiving each other, giggling to each other with burning ears, praising the way they both handled themselves. A teasing Jay made his way to where Y/N was, dusting the sand off her shorts. “You know what, let me buy you an ice cream. Let’s celebrate how we held our own against the Ice Prince and his Class President Princess over there.” Glancing over to where NingNing and Sunghoon were still talking amongst themselves, now much more calm and with eyes fixed on each other, Y/N simply nodded as she followed Jay along to the corner store right by the beach. After paying the vendor, the two of them sat on the staircase that led to the beach, simply enjoying the weather, the view and the company. A silence that blanketed them in comfort, not awkwardness. “Y/N.” Jay broke the silence suddenly, but not startlingly. “Hmm”, Y/N hummed in response, curious as to what the boy wanted to ask. “Have an ice cream with me tomorrow as well?”, he asked. “Sure, why not”, Y/N said, not thinking too much into it. Her and Jay were hanging out quite frequently anyways, and this was not all that of a strange request from him. “No, I mean the real tomorrow. A tomorrow that isn’t a Tuesday again. A tomorrow where the sun rises over a new time”. His eyes were determined as he looked at where she sat. There was no guarantee in this. This wasn’t one of Jay’s basketball games where the outcome of the match could be predicted. But the way Y/N’s hand was on top of his palm, her body leaned slightly into him, and from the way she smiled at him all the time - he had a feeling the odds were in his favor. “What do you say?”

The hope that was in the air was buzzing. It was thrown into the wind along with caution, and it was about whether Y/N would catch onto it.

“Yes, Jay. I’ll have ice cream with you tomorrow.”

A promise.

A promise between two hearts, young and beating with life and purpose. A promise that neither of the two hearts were sure they’d be able to keep.

“Guys, come here!”. The urgence in the outcry of Giselle’s voice made the two run as fast as they could, kicking up sand to where the rest of the group had already assembled. Sunoo was on the sand, clutching the bag which contained all the evidence Jungwon had collected regarding the body search. “I was looking for my sunglasses in this bag, when I saw it.” There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary in what Sunoo was clutching, the newspaper article and the books. That’s when Y/N looked to see the color draining from Jay’s face, and the rest of her friends looking right at her in indescribable fear. And when she looked down again at the newspaper, she saw the difference.

‘10 year old Y/N Y/L/N brutally murdered along with her parents at Sakcho WaterPark by unknown intruder ; body of the deceased is yet to be found.’

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aziraphales-library · 10 months ago

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Lost Fic #171

1. once I came across a fic where heaven told aziraphale to "cure" crowley and make him an angel again or they would kill him (crowley), and at first tried to do it secretively but eventually came clean and the whole process was extremely damaging to crowley's self esteem. I'm pretty sure he came clean, anyway? I didn't actually read it - just took a skim of the last chapter - because that kind of dynamic was the LAST thing I wanted to explore in their relationship. I still don't want to read it. I just want to comment and ask the author how it feels to be right. - @hakureiryuu

2. Hi mods! I was hoping you could please find a fic for me? Unfortunately, it's a bit vague, but I think it was a Crowley was Raphael fic where at some point (after falling) Crowley comforts Michael but she doesn't realise it's her sibling. I think they were in a crater or on another planet or something. Thanks in advance, but no worries if not! - anon

3. Good evening! Thank you so much for all the wonderful work you all have done!! Today, I am looking for a fic that was largely in Aziraphale's POV, but what was most memorable for me, and the reason I was looking for it was a scene near the middle where it shifts to Crowley's POV driving in the bentley, imagining and reimagining scenarios with Aziraphale, going to the Ritz for their anniversary, and Aziraphale calling him my dear, my dear, and eventually, my darling. And at these moments he imagines, he speeds up his driving and steps on the accelerator with "my darling" echoing in his mind. In his drive-daydream, he acts all suave in front of a blushing Aziraphale, who considers him his darling, and eventually "to the world" becomes "to us". When he reaches the bookshop after his mad drive, Aziraphale is wearing something cute to keep himself warm and Crowley is enamored with him. Gosh the whole scenario is adorable! I'd like to find it again, and it would be awesome to have your help!! - @purple-patches

4. Hiya! I was hoping you could help me find a fic! I don't remember a whole awful lot about it, but it features Aziraphale, Crowley, and a female angel whose name escapes me, and the plot is basically that Crowley was *part* of Raphael and the female angel is trying to convince him to reclaim the half of Raphael that is still comatose up in Heaven. I recall that the Dowlings were involved briefly, and that Aziraphale/Crowley passed the other angel off at their adult daughter who was in the military/traveled a lot. Any help is appreciated! Ty! - anon

5. I am looking for a crossover from good omens and supernatural that was on ao3. Aziraphale and crowley are husbands and have the gift from god from both hell and heaven. So the most powerful being. And the winchester brothers have scripts written in henoric. They need help from the angle to translate it and they summond crowley to contact him. He does help them with crowley but his side. They found the last dcript paper is so dtrong that it can destroy everything and they take them to the garden. - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

#good omens #lost fic #ineffable husbands #mod d

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nikki-152006 · 4 months ago

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tokyo revengers characters getting naughty

(Ch- 20 of my fanfic if everyone was horny)

Ameliorate - [Tokyo Revengers Various X Reader]

Chapter 20- making up

Of course not writing the whole chapter again, just the parts that fit right under the title- Also, I can't guarantee all horniness to be limited to only be between MC and the other characters... [The parts with the reader are in the second half, before that it's just the boys because why not?]

+includes mentions of "Max, Bruce, Tony" who are the reader's first cousin brothers

"It's my fault." Smiley has his head turned to the ground, "I'm the reason she ran away."

Bruce turns to him with only red before his eyes, "You don't know how to fucking talk to her, you don't know how to fucking behave, and now you're making her run off like that too. What even is your problem?"

"You're right..." Smiley looks up at him with a spark in his eyes, "I don't know how to behave."

Bruce's expressions twitch, "You want me to fucking teach you?"

"Yes please."

"Alright, babyboy, down on your knees-"

Max turns to them with a horrified look, "Just what in the absolute holy fucking fuck?"

Mitsuya looks like he's at the ninth level of shock.

Tony mutters a whole series of "thank you"s to the boy and almost looses the hold over his tears when he pulls away, "I'd have lost myself if it wasn't for you."

"It's alright, I'm here." Mitsuya pats his head, "You're my friend's brother."

"Your friend's prettiest, hottest, sexiest, and I have to say, most potent brother." Tony corrects.

"Tony, he's still an year or two underage." Bruce points out.

Tony slides his thumb over his tongue, "A pity."

Kawata-san walks over to the door, he has decided to just peek and see whether Baji's done with Smiley or not. He opens the door the slightest bit to see Angry and Chifuyu staring at the ground with their mouths open.

Angry has his hands over his face, probably to cover his eyes but they're not serving that purpose. Chifuyu's face is bright red as he shamelessly stares.

Kawata-san's eyes roll over to the ground where Baji is hovering over Smiley. He has one hand over Smiley's waist and the other cupping his cheek. Smiley's both arms dangle over Baji's shoulders.

They're nearing each other.

Kawata-san closes the door, blinks a few times, then opens it again as if he'd see something else. The scene doesn't change. He repeats it a few times before he hears sounds he never wished to, and Baji's voice ringing across the area-

"Anyone wanna join?"

"Oh my God, yes." Chifuyu has jumped off the bike and is hurrying to them.

Kawata-san closes the door and leans against it, "Just what in the world... "

"So smile. Smile, Nahoya-kun, you're a good boy."

He blinks.

"Yes mommy, if that's what you want."

"There's a lot more I want. You'd probably pass out giving it to me." you wink.

"Now now, let's not make assumptions, should we?" Smiley gets up and climbs onto your bed with one knee, "You're the sweeter, weaker one here, I might just end up ridding you of all pain in minutes."

You slide your hand over his cheek, then grab his shirt and pull him closer, "I don't doubt you at all."

The door opens, Baji steps in with his phone in his hands. He looks up, "Wow."

"Uh.. we're doing nothing." Smiley says.

"Yup, he totally said he has a pimple and I'm checking that." you nod.

Baji blinks, "Shut the hell up both of you," he takes his shirt of, "or I'll do that myself. I'm joining in."

"The dearest friend of my dearest brother, I, in the name of formality, thank thee for thy efforts of picking up a little girl, throwing her into a car, driving to a hospital and leaving her there. Thee shan't be ever forgotten, for thee is a savior." you take your tongue out at Max, "Thee, is my, savior."

"Aren't I? Pay me now." the voice over the phone says.

You blink.

"How? I don't have a lot of money."

"Oh, you don't need money to pay me, sweetheart. I'm your savior, just see my number off Maxie's phone and ring me up later~"

"Oh~" your eyebrows raise, "I definitely will."

"And if you wanna get straight into, it, I'm always open to nud-" but Max snatches the phone from you last second.

"The hell is even going on today?" he looks angry and puts the phone to his ear, "If you hit on my sister too, you're not getting any of me!"

"You're choking me, Baji-san."

"Of course I am," he makes the grip a little stronger, "you like it, don't you?"

"I do."

"You want me to keep it up, don't you, (Name)?" he's dangerously close to you as he pushes you against the wall.

"Yes daddy, I do."

"That's my girl." Baji whispers the words in your ear.

You unintentionally arch your back, there's pressure building up inside of you now. Your heart has lost it's mind, it's beating like crazy, sending blood in areas that make you lose it.

"My my," he stares at your chest, opening the top buttons of your shirt, "aren't you tempting me now, (Name)? You want me to take off your shirt?"

"You can always do more, Baji-san."

"Always?" he grins, lips inches apart from yours, "I'm gonna do more right now."

"Please do." you feel your hands hold his as he continues to keep a grip on your neck, "I really need you."

"Beg me." he caresses your cheek, "Go on, onto your knees, now."

A crashing sound makes them both jolt and turn to the side where Smiley stands with a cycle fallen on the ground beside him.

"What are you both doing out here on the streets?"

"Nothing at all." Baji turns to him, his hand slipping from your neck to your shoulder.

"Yup, I totally have an ache here, he's just giving me a massage." you lick your lips.

"Shut up, both of you, and Baji, keep that grip tight," he takes off his shirt, "or should I do that for you? I'm joining in."

Ameliorate - [Tokyo Revengers Various X Reader]

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jasntodds · 1 year ago

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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 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

“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

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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rattlyglitch · 7 months ago

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Ocean Travelers Chapter 1 (also known as future octonauts)

I didn't want to wait any longer to post this and am really excited about it. Chapter 2 is also almost done so I'm hoping to have it posted by this week some time.

Captain Barnacles didn’t know what to expect when he woke up and decided to start making coffee but it wasn’t to see an alert on his octowatch coming from Tracker. “Good morning Tracker. Do you have another report on the migrating birds?” Tracker shook his head. “I don’t Captain. I actually got an alert earlier. It came from a remote forest and seemed to be coming from an octowatch. The only problem with that though is we have no one located in that area and it wasn’t just one watch that sent out an alert but multiple.”

Captain Barnacles did find it strange that alerts were coming from an unknown area. “Do you by chance know of any octoagents that live near that area?” Tracker disappeared from theoctowatch’s view and typing could be heard. “There isn’t anyone near that remote area, Captain. The closest person would have been Ranger Marsh but at the current moment, he’s with Calico Jack and Professor Natquik in antarctica. You and the other octonauts are the closest person now to the location.” Captain Barnacles took in the information.

“Are you sure that the alerts aren’t from Calico Jack, Ranger Marsh, and Professor Natquik?” Tracker looked at the area again. “I’m positive it’s not. The number of alerts is coming from more than three octowatches.” Captain Barnacles began trying to think over how many octoagents had watches. “Understood Tracker. Send where the location of the alerts are coming from and I’ll gather the others. Me and the octonauts will go and see who's there. You’ll continue to be posted though if anything goes wrong.” Captain Barnacles wasn’t sure what could be in the location but it would be good to have someone be on call if something dangerous happened. “I’ll make sure to check in regularly by the hour. Professor Inkling will remain in the octopod, correct?” Captain Barnacles thought for a moment.

“Most likely yes but it is possible he may leave the ship with us. If he leaves someone will remain in the ship though. Do you have any more questions?” Tracker shook his head no. “That’s all, Captain. I’ll be leaving but call you soon.” The call on Captain Barnacles' watch ended and he pressed the ship's octoalert. Within moments the octonauts came into the main area of the octopod. “We’re all here and ready for business Captain” Kwazii responded. He at the moment seemed the most lively. It was six in the morning after all. “Why did you call us Captain?” Tweak asked while rubbing her eye.

Captain Barnacles got the location the octoalerts were coming from and showed them on the main screen. “There seem to be several octoalerts coming from a remote forest location. The only problem though is that there seems to be no one closer to the location than we are and by the looks of it we’ll be arriving there within five hours.” Tweak looked at the screen. “Are you sure it isn’t from my Pa, Professor Natquik, and Kwazii’s grandpa?” It wasn’t hard to tell that the area was almost exactly where Ranger Marsh would be.

“Yes. I would have thought it was them if there hadn’t been more than three alerts. And I am correct that the octowatches only show they send out one alert and keep going off until the problem is solved?” Tweak nodded. “Either the problem is solved or the watch alert is answered.” She still looked confused. Captain Barnacles noticed she had started using her fingers to count and he did not doubt in his mind that she was trying to see how many octowatches had been given out. “I got 18 octowatches have been given out. Did you also count?” Teak asked. “If not I can go search for where I kept the actual number.” Captain Barnacles gave a nod. “I got the same amount when counting as well,” Captain Barnacles replied.

Peso looked at Tweak. “Is there a possibility you made some more and then lost them? We’ll still go and fetch them but maybe an animal found the watches by accident and started playing with them or knows what the watches are and need help which is why alerts were sent out.” Tweak seemed apprehensive when hearing what Peso told her. “I mean it’s possible. I wouldn’t doubt that could have happened. Either way, we have no way of answering the watch's calls to see if it’s someone who needs help or if it was by accident.” Tweak looked at Captain Barnacles. “Could you set the octopod to start heading towards that direction, Captain? I’ll go make sure we have the gups we need.”

Captain Barnacles, who had been looking at the location of the alerts Tracker sent, looked at Tweak. “I’ll get the octopod started. Everyone else gather everything you need and prepare to leave in five hours.” With the meeting in the main area settled everyone left and made sure they didn’t need anything. Barnacles busied himself by making sure he as well had everything. All while he prepared himself Captain Barnacles couldn’t help but think about how strange the circumstances of Tweak losing any octowatches was. She was well organized more than not usually and had bins full of things that had been put in storage closets.

He was interested in finding out who had been sending the alerts though and why. Maybe it was a situation like Professor Natquik’s. Someone unfortunate enough to be forgotten and left in an abandoned site. The idea of that though made Barnacles feel queasy. He had seen how traumatic it was for Professor Natquik and Calico Jack. While they had been on the octopod they both had terrible nightmares. Captain Barnacles was sometimes able to help Professor Natquik calm down but most of the time it was Kwazii who was able to slowly talk to the two and calm them. Kwazii was, after all, in the same boat as his grandfather and the Professor.

When the cat had joined the crew being the second official member there were long nights when it would take far longer to calm him then Calico Jack and Professor Natquik. Sometimes even there was no way to calm him and the pirate would pass out from the stress of the situation which would then on rare and unlucky occasions fevers. The more Captain Barnacles thought about it the more he got nervous. He tried to distract himself by helping the vegimals since he had checked over everything he had at least several times. He had been helping them cook when the octopod came to a stop.

The octonauts gather in the launch bay before being situated. It was decided that Professor Inkling and Shellington would stay behind. That way if anything did happen two people would be able to get help as soon as possible or come help wherever the octonauts were. “Will all of you be safe and return safely ok?” Shellington said, looking at the group. He didn’t mind staying behind of course but it wasn’t hard to tell the scientist was nervous about his friends leaving. The last thing he or anyone else would want to happen was to have someone get hurt. “Don’t worry matey I’ll make sure we all come”

Kwazii responded with a cheerful smile on his face. Dashi nodded in agreement. “I’ll make sure as well. We’ll all protect each other.” Shellington seemed less nervous when hearing the encouragement of Kwazii and Dashi and seemed confident in the group. “I’ll wait here with Professor Inkling then and make sure to listen to keep an eye on each other.” Shellington waved goodbye to the group. His waving was able to be seen until GUP-1 sunk into the water and the octopod hatch closed.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

#peso #ocaptain barnacles #octonauts #dashi #kwazii #tweak #tracker #professor inkling #shellington

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juancarlos-ortiz · 10 months ago

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Marked for Carnage - Chapter 5 (Juice x OC Fic)

Marked for Carnage Masterlist

A/N: Chapter 5 is here. Sorry if this isn't the best - I wanted to get it uploaded and haven't had a lot of time to edit. More Juice and Ronnie 1 on 1 time is coming I promise!

Word Count: 2774 words

Ronnie shakily brought the glass of water up to her lips that Jax had bought over to her. Taking a large gulp, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart. She could hear the men in the room beginning to speak, trying to piece together what was happening. "Who's Mark?" Tig asked. Ronnie only shook her head, her tongue a dead weight in her mouth. "Her piece of shit ex," Opie explained for her. "Used to smack her around. He's the reason she left Charming." Piney's grip on his daughters shoulder tightened. "And why is this jerk off still breathing?" Tig continued. "Because…" Ronnie exhaled. "He's a low level drug dealing shit stain, but he's not worth going to jail for murder over." Ronnie stood abruptly, beginning to pace. Opie, Piney and Jax all began protesting and arguing over what should be done, but she ignored them and rested her hands on the edge of the bar. A hand on her shoulder made her jump. She turned to find Tig looking down at her with a soft smile on his face. "Hey Tiggy," she smiled, her eyes still glassy. "Didn’t even know you were back, kid," he said, and pulled her into a brief, one-armed embrace. "Didn’t want it to be a big thing," Ronnie shrugged. "Now you know why."

"I want someone on Ronnie's house," Ronnie heard Piney say, his gruff voice sounding over the fray. "No dad," Ronnie began. "I don't want to take anyone from the club. I can handle my shit, he just freaked me out." Piney shook his head, Opie agreeing with him. "He doesn’t even know where I live," she continued. "Wouldn’t be hard for him to find out," Jax said. Piney looked to where Clay was sitting. Clay shrugged. "I don't got the numbers at the moment. I can give you the Prospect." Piney growled, adjusting the cannula in his nose. "Not happening," he chided. "Seriously it's fine, pops. Look, I'm sorry to burst in like this, Clay," Ronnie turned to the President. Clay waved a hand in her direction. "All good, kid. You’re family," he shrugged. Ronnie smiled flatly and made her way out of the clubhouse, Piney and Opie following her.

"Dad's right," Opie began. "You should have someone stay with you." Ronnie whirled around to face her brother. "You're really giving me whiplash here, Ope," she threw her arms out in exasperation. "Last time we talked you nearly ripped my head off, and didn't want me anywhere near the club." Opie scoffed and folded his arms. "Those were different circumstances. And you’re my little sister Ronnie," he reached out to mess with her hair, Ronnie pushing his arm off and glaring at him. "No matter how pissed I am at you, I'll always worry about you." Ronnie sighed and shook her head. "You heard Clay. He doesn't have the numbers, so…". "I'll stay with you," Piney said. "I'm not called up for much action these days anyway. Go and let, Clay know," he said to Opie. "I don't have a spare room dad," Ronnie attested. "Not gonna be sleeping," Piney grumbled, and walked towards his bike. "Stubborn old man," Ronnie shook her head and walked to her car.

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Ronnie smiled as she handed out bowls of chili to buyers. Much to her disdain, Clay had told Gemma about the Mark incident and Gemma had insisted that when she wasn't working at the hospital or at home with Piney, that she should stay close to the club to make sure she was safe. That was how she was wrangled into helping Gemma at the Taste of Charming fundraiser. She didn’t mind helping out, but shovelling out chili and making small talk with people who claimed to remember Ronnie when she was a child - but she had no recollection of them - was becoming monotonous. She had seen Jax briefly and would look over to where Bobby was entertaining kids with his Elvis act to break up the routine but even that was becoming dull. Casting her eye out over the crowd, she spotted her brother, sister-in-law and niece and nephew. "Hey Gem," she called over her shoulder. Gemma turned from the pot of chili she was stirring. "Yeah, baby?" "You mind if I go hang out with Ope's family for a bit?" Gemma smiled and patted her cheek lightly. "Sure, sweetheart."

Ronnie made her way across the throng of people, stopping where Opie and Donna were sat watching the egg toss. "Hey," she said awkwardly. Opie and Donna turned to her. Donna smiled grimly, but didn't say anything. Ronnie refrained from rolling her eyes. "Hey Ron," Opie greeted. "Everything ok?" Ronnie nodded her head. "Yeah all good. Although I think Gemma is being more protective now than dad." Opie huffed and smiled. "Yeah well, you were always the daughter she never had." Donna watched the conversation between the siblings with a frown on her face. "The kids off playing?" Ronnie asked. "You here to try and buy their favour again?" Donna questioned. Ronnie remained impassive, ignoring Donna's jab. "Donna," Opie wearily said. "We spoke about this. Drop it." Ronnie's eyebrows raised at her brothers intercept. Was he finally coming around?

"I'll be right back," Opie suddenly said, making a beeline towards an old indoor gym. "Oh," Ronnie looked between her brother and Donna awkwardly. Left alone with her sister-in-law, Ronnie shuffled from one foot to another, cracking her knuckles. "Donna," she began. "I know you seem to really not like me, but know that I'm serious when I say that I am trying to make things up to Opie. I know I can't replace the last decade. But I don’t want to waste any time from now on. Opie seems to understand that. I hope you can to." Donna only looked at Ronnie for a moment, before turning back to watch Ellie play with her friends. Ronnie sighed and made her way back to the chili tent.

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Juice rubbed at his neck where Clay had grabbed him. He'd been longing to get home from Nevada after the week away and now he felt like he'd really fucked things up by bringing Cherry with him. Pulling his phone out of his cut he woke it up, hoping to find a missed call or text from Ronnie. She had tried him a few times since the situation with Piney had gone down but over the past two days it seemed she had given up. The thought made his stomach turn to lead. He wasn't meaning to stonewall her, he just didn’t know what to say. The whole situation was messed up, and he didn’t want to hurt anyone's feelings. But these few days away and not hearing from her had shown him that he wasn't done with her yet. Their kiss was on his mind any time he was on his own, the memory of her lips against his, the way her hands slid across his skin, her scent. He never went near any croweaters, even when they offered the most lewd things he had ever heard. He just couldn’t get this girl out of his head. Pulling up her contact he sighed and pressed dial. Pulling the phone to his hear, he waited as it rang, his stomach roiling. After the fifth ring he was ready to hang up but then he heard her.

"Juice?" His pulse picked up. "Hey, Ronnie," he smiled, scratching at his jaw. "I thought you might have been finished with me," she admitted, and Juice could hear her caution through the phone. He rolled his lips into a line and shook his head. "Nah, I don't think I'm done yet," he said. He heard her sigh in relief. "I'm so sorry, Juice seriously. I wasn't trying to hide it from you, I just didn’t know when it would be a good time to tell you about my family. I know whatever this is, is casual but I never wanted to make things awkward for you." "Yeah, I know," he replied. "It's all good. I don’t want to stop hanging with you, but maybe we can take things slow? Be friends at first or something…" he gulped. Ronnie laughed through the phone. "I mean yeah, I would like that," she said, sending relief flooding through Juice. "It's not that I'm not into you, cause I am really into you, trust me. I just really respect your dad and brother so I don’t wanna be on their bad sides ya know. This club is kinda all I got," he admitted. "It's fine, Juice," she assured him. "I get it, seriously. So, friends then?" He smiled, his spirits lifting for the first time all week. "Yeah Ronnie. Friends."

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The next day, Ronnie walked from her kitchen to the living room where Piney was sat on her couch, his shotgun placed on her coffee table. Handing him a cup of coffee, she perched on the couch next to him. "The guns a bit of overkill, don't ya think pops?" she asked, sipping on her own drink. Piney raised an eyebrow and surveyed the room. "Are you not armed?" he asked. Ronnie rolled her eyes. "Of course I am, dad. I just don't have them out on display today." The old man grumbled and turned back to the television. The sound of a Harley rang down Ronnie's street, making her an Piney glance at each other curiously. When the bike cut out in front of her house, Ronnie stood and walked to look out the peephole. "It's Opie," she muttered, watching her brother walk up the path to her door. She pulled it open when he got close. "Ope? Everything ok?" she asked. "Pops needs to come down to the clubhouse. You too," he informed them. Piney stood and made his way over to his children. "What's wrong?" he hesitated. "You need to lay low. ATF are sniffing around after what went down with Nate yesterday. You and me are going to the cabin. Dropping Ronnie off at the clubhouse on the way," Opie clarified. "Wait what? Why?" Ronnie asked, crossing her arms. "Because dad isn't here to watch out for you," Opie said, annoyed . "Ok fine, but can't I drive myself?" she asked. "No time, you can ride with me," Opie said, already turning around and making his way back to his bike. "That doesn’t even make sense," Ronnie mumbled under her breath as she turned to lock her front door.

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Ronnie's knuckles were white as she gripped the back of her brothers bike tightly. They pulled into TM and as soon as the bike was turned off she ripped herself out of the seat, jamming the helmet into her brothers chest. "I hate those things," she pointed at his bike before she began to stalk towards the clubhouse. She had seen enough MVAs involving bikes to not want to go near them. She slowed down when she saw Juice sitting at one of the tables near the boxing ring. "Hey Juicy," she called out, making him look up from his phone. He grinned brightly at her, sending her blood scorching through her veins. "Hey, Ronnie," he stood and made his way over to her. He began to reach out to grab her hand but stopped himself short when Opie trailed after her. He sent Juice a withering glare and Ronnie rolled her eyes. "Chill out, Ope. I'm allowed to have friends." Opie ignored his sister, turning when Piney caught up with them. "How long do I have to stay here?" Ronnie asked, miffed about how her morning was shaping out. "I'll stay with dad until tonight, and then I'll come get you. You can stay at my place for the night and we reassess tomorrow," Opie explained.

Ronnie scoffed. "No way. I am not staying at your place while your wife still hates me." Opie rolled his eyes. "Donna will be civil. And you have no choice." "Actually, I do have a choice," Ronnie remarked. When she didn’t elaborate Opie gestured for her to continue. "Juice can be on watch at my house," she stated. Juice whipped his head in her direction, his eyes wide. "Wait, what?" he asked at the same time Opie barked "not happening". Ronnie huffed and looked towards Piney, hoping he would step in and help her out. He shrugged. "Clay got you doing anything?" he asked Juice. Opie sneered. "You've got to be kidding me." Juice just shook his head, answering the old man. "Not at the moment. I'm free as far as I know." Piney shrugged and looked at Opie. "Let her go home. She's got protection." Ronnie stepped up to her dad and hugged him. "Thanks dad," she kissed his rough cheek and Piney smiled down at her. Juice felt like he was intruding so he walked to his bike, grabbing out the spare helmet and starting it up. "Relax Opie. He's just doing it for you guys. That's all this is." She turned and made her way to Juice. Opie watched as his sister put the helmet on and climbed on behind Juice, his annoyance intensifying when she wrapped her hands around his waist. "You sure about this?" he asked his father. Piney just shrugged. "Can't tell her what to do. Only gonna push her away. I don't know about you but I'm not losing her again."

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Ronnie grinned at Juice as she took the helmet off, handing it over to him. The ride back to her house had been the most enjoyment she had ever felt on the back of a bike. Her anxiety about the danger completely melting away. The way it felt to have Juice between her thighs, her arms wrapped around his waist and her face pressed against his cut. When they were pulled up at a set of lights he had dropped one hand from the handlebars and gripped her knee briefly, his thumb running over the denim of her jeans. She didn’t know how she was going to go with this friends business when all she wanted to do was have him close again. Opening the door, she let him into her house, trying not to think about the position they had been in last time he was there. "Can I use your bathroom real quick?" Juice asked. "Yeah, sure. Up the hall, second door on your left," she told him. Ronnie made her way to the kitchen, scanning the fridge and pantry to see what she could offer to make them for lunch. She stood up quickly when she heard a sharp knock on her door. Peering down the hallway she saw the bathroom was still occupied and wondered who could possibly be paying her visit now.

Opening the door she was shocked to find a woman smartly dressed with sandy brown hair and an ATF jacket standing at her door with a smirk on her face. "Um, can I help you?" Ronnie asked. "Veronica Wilson?" the woman questioned. "Who wants to know?" Ronnie countered. The woman smirked again, looking down her nose at Ronnie. "Veronica, I'm Agent June Stahl, ATF. I'm here to question you about your fathers whereabouts. Do you know the current location of Piermont Winston?" Ronnie just shook her head, leaning against the doorframe. "I have no idea, I haven’t seen him in a couple of days," she shrugged. Stahl hummed, narrowing her eyes. "And are you aware of the activities undertaken by the outlaw motorcycle club that your father and brother are currently members of? Any illegal interests you may be privy to or aware of that you could make known to us?" Ronnie raised a brow and crossed her arms. "As far as I'm aware the whole bike and club thing are a hobby for them. That's all. Nothing illegal," she attested. Stahl smiled and nodded her head. "Sure. That's why your brother just got out of prison for a botched arson attempt, right? Had nothing to do with the club, did it?" she pushed. Ronnie huffed. "Listen, Agent Stahl, the only connection I have to that club is my last name. You're barking up the wrong tree." Stahl's eyes strayed from Ronnie and landed on something behind her, narrowing. Ronnie turned and saw Juice standing a couple of feet behind her. His jaw was set, but his eyes were on her, filled with worry. She smiled sheepishly and turned to Stahl. "Just your last name, huh?" Stahl mocked. She put her glasses on and turned to leave before looking back over her shoulder. "Reach out if you hear from your father, Veronica."

#soa #sons of anarchy #juice soa #juan carlos juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz x oc #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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