#ive yet again stayed up to finish these so i am going to pass out after posting this

[synthshenanigans]

More doodles wahoo

tw blood and burn scars (thos the scars are mostly hidden)

Heart/Light & Soul designs by @starclawz !

Yeehawed Soul design by @socialc1imb !

#ive yet again stayed up to finish these so i am going to pass out after posting this #im great at keeping a sleep schedule #rip the marker for that Heart drawing #dunked it in water to make the splatter on my paper #why? idk good question #also i would say these might become full arts later but everytime i say that i dont so like #im not gonna jinx myself #okay im tired i go sleep now bye bye #chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul

[ghostsmybeloved]

Fond Memories

Papa Emeritus IV (Copia) x Reader

Summary: Papa had no idea who you were, or how you came to suddenly be such an important thing in his life. He wasn't complaining though.

Words: 3.2k

Copia held his head down as he rushed through the Abbey towards the abandoned wing, tears threatening to fall as he could hear members of the Higher Clergy call out behind him. The Papa didn’t care though, he needed to escape away from his Papal duties.

As he entered the abandoned wing, the atmosphere almost immediately changed. He could hear scampering of nonexistent creatures, the wind whistling past him as he continued on his journey. Copia figured it was just his paranoia, his anxiety as the Papa ignored the feel of eyes on his back.

The Papa grew closer to the old practice rooms, used by Papa Nihil when the Ghost Project was first founded. The wing had been abandoned when Nihil tried to turn away from the spotlight of the stage. Copia had heard stories about the wing growing up, but none of them suddenly came to his mind as he continued his trek.

Slowly, faint singing reached his ears as he stopped. If his Ghouls were here, he’d deny that he was nervous, scared even, but in his moment of isolation, Copia thought of turning around. As the Papa remained still, he could slowly hear the lyrics more clearly.

As if his body moves on its own, Copia found himself following the sing as he came upon one of the practice rooms. Silently opening the door, he found himself in the presence of you, who hadn’t quite noticed the Papa.

Your singing of Life Eternal had both your and the Papa’s attention, sitting on the piano bench as your fingers grazed above the old piano. You weren’t playing it, your fingers barely above the keys as you sang. Copia started swaying to the song, smiling softly as he felt his worries from earlier slip away like they were swept up by the ocean.

“Can you feel me longing for you forever and ever?” you finished, opening your eyes to feel the mismatched eyes on your body, making you tense up and turn around. Copia jumped at your turn, clearing his throat.

“Ah so sorry for interrupting! I just- uh- heard your voce incantevole!” Copia stuttered, making you giggle as he cleared his throat again, “You are a- uh- beautiful- I mean great- singer…yeah.”

Your smile held even though your giggling stopped, “Well I am glad you enjoyed it Papa. It is one of my favorite songs from the Ghost Project. Your singing is so much better than mine, but I am honored that you praise me.”

“I am Papa- Copia, I mean. Per favore, chiamami Copia.”

“Well what brings you to my wing Copia?” You scoot over on your bench, offering the Papa to sit down with a bright smile on your face. Who is he to deny your offer?

Striding to the stage, he quickly gets up and sits down on the bench next to you as you both face the piano keys. Your fingers dance above the keys once again, like you were teasing both him and the piano of a performance.

Copia takes a deep breath as he begins to spill his Papal secrets, “Mi nascondo. The meeting with the Higher Clergy today did not go as planned, they doubt my abilities. They want me to be like my brothers before, while being nothing like them.”

Finally, your fingers grace the piano keys as you started performing a piece Copia had never heard before as you spoke, “Do not listen to them. The differences between Primo, Secondo, and Terzo is what made them shine so bright when they stood on those stages.”

The Papa does not reply, listening to the old piano as he closes his eyes. The piano was withered by age, yet despite the disoriented sound that was hidden underneath the music, it was still beautiful. It reminded him of one of the Ghoul’s lullabies, making Copia quietly hum along to the keys.

You two stayed sitting as you performed while he hummed. Copia had no idea how long time had passed, he didn’t care much, until your piece ended. Before the Papa could praise or ask for another, you took his hands and guided him back to the abandoned commons.

“What-”

“Papa! There you are!”

Copia quickly turned around at the mention of his title, seeing Aether rush over to him. The Ghoul looked exhausted, like had overused his Quintessence energy again. Though, he still was filled with joy to find the Papa.

“My Ghoul! Aether, this is-”

As he turned around, the Papa didn't see you behind him anymore, like you snuck away. Seeing this, Copia’s words died on his tongue as he looked between Aether and where you were standing.

"Are you alright Papa?" Aether asked, putting his claw on Copia's shoulder, making him look at the Ghoul, "Are you seeing things?"

"No, no, no. Giuro, qualcuno è stato qui!"

Aether looked at the Papa concerned, before nodding, "You can tell us all about this mystery person back in the Den, okay?"

"..okay."

* * *

Copia was restless in his seat, desperate to be free of another meeting with Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil. She was scolding him for rushing out of yesterday's meeting, but her words never reached the Papa's ears. He wanted to rush back to the abandoned wing to see if you were there again.

"Are you even listening?!" Sister Imperator growled, making Copia snap to look at her. She had a scowl on her face when he looked at her.

"Of course I am, Sorella. I am just tired."

It wasn’t a complete lie. He was tired, he hadn’t gotten much sleep because he couldn’t get you out of his head, your singing of his song and your performance on the old piano. You felt so familiar to the Papa, but he couldn’t understand why.

Papa Nihil went to say something, but Sister Imperator quickly glared at him, making him shut up with a quiet apology. She turned her attention back to Copia with a fake smile, her eyes glaring daggers. If the Papa wasn't so distracted by the thought of you, he might've been intimidated by her.

Sister Imperator rose out of her seat quietly, striding over to Copia's desk, "How about you get some rest, C? Your assistant can do the rest of your work today."

The Papa sighed quietly, nodding as Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil left the room arguing about something. Copia didn’t really care what they were arguing about, he cared that this was the perfect time to escape and try to find you again.

As he listened to the faint footsteps get fainter, Copia took this as his time to escape as he slipped out of his office and down towards the abandoned wing. Unlike yesterday, his anxiety and sorrow was replaced with excitement and a fluttery sense.

Creeping behind the wing’s large doors, he smiled brightly as he almost ran down the hallway. The small footsteps of creatures and the wind whistling didn’t bother the Papa today, he was too focused on seeing you again. You were like his most sinful dream, a gift from Lord Lucifer himself.

Copia entered the abandoned commons to see you sitting on the floor, noticing that the couches were far too dusty for anyone to sit on. In your hand was a book he was all too familiar with, it was an ancient Latin book that only the most knowable Clergy could read.

“Hello…” Copia squeaked out, mentally slapping himself for the sudden nervousness around you. Hearing his voice, you turned around with a big smile on your face, “Ci scusiamo per l'intrusione.”

“Oh no Papa, it’s no intrusion. Between us, I shouldn’t even be here, but I tend to get quite lost,” you chuckled, patting the spot next to you as another offer to the Papa, “Come, sit. I knew you’d be back.”

“You did?”

You made a quiet noise in response, nodding your head as he walked over to sit next to you. Once Copia was seated, you moved the book to rest on your legs to share it with the Papa next to you. It was senseless gibberish to him, but you looked like you understood it all.

The two of you made eye contact, making Copia blush and quickly look down at the book, “You.. uh… understand this book?”

“Ah yes. My father taught me when I was young. He told me it was going to be a great skill.”

“Your father? Is he a part of our church?”

You hesitated, opening your mouth to speak as you took a couple of seconds before answering, “No. My father… does not agree with my choices.”

“E tua madre?” Copia is quick to ask. A little too quick which makes him quickly speak again, “Sorry, nothing bad! I am just curious!”

You giggled again with a bright smile on your face as he stuttered over his words again. He felt like such a fool in front of you, but hearing your laugh was worth it. It warmed the Papa more than the deepest pit of Hell could.

“I never knew my mother, I don’t know whether she died or just didn’t want anything to do with me,” you explain, your smile turning sorrowfully as you looked up at Copia, “It was just my father before I joined.”

“I am an orphan,” Copia admits, making you squeeze his hand gently, “I was left on the Abbey’s steps one day with nothing. I was one of the few orphans to stay within the church though.”

“That must have been hard.”

Copia hums in response before turning his attention back to the book, “Can you tell me what it says?”

“Its written about our Lord, describing His kindness. Have you ever felt His presence, Copia?" You looked over at him, your hand still on top of his as you questioned again, "Have you heard His messages?"

Copia feels his heart to race, pounding in his chest like a cage. He doesn't know if it's racing because of your hand or your questions, but he quickly responds, "I haven't. I pretend to do so, I am Papa, but I have not. È vergognoso."

"I think those closest to our Lord don't hear His words because they are going down the right path."

Copia smiles softly as you start reading from the book, your voice soothing the Papa. He wasn't listening to your words, instead focusing on your voice. It sounded sweeter than any fruit of Eden.

As you ended the chapter, the Papa was so grateful you read to him. He hardly listened to the chapter, he knew it was bad since it was about Lucifer, but he couldn’t help himself. Copia loved your voice and your talent.

Looking up at the old grandfather clock, you hummed in disappointment, “It’s time for you to go Copia. Dinner starts soon.”

“Hm?” Copia looked at the grandfather clock and gasped, shooting up, “Oh no! I’m late! I promised to help set the tables in the grand hall!”

Before he knew it, he was rushing out the hall without saying goodbye to you, and without even getting your name. Copia only realized it as soon as he got to the grand hall, his frown apparent as he looked back in the direction of the wing.

Tomorrow, the Papa promises himself, tomorrow he’ll get your name.

****

Tomorrow came and went, along with many more weeks as he visited you daily. Every day the Papa sees you, you are doing something different. Copia then is mesmerized by what you have to say, he listens for hours and hours, which only feels like minutes, till someone finds him or he has another event.

Every time, he doesn’t get your name, and every day he promises himself the next day. Copia has told his Ghouls all about you, the way your eyes shined when you spoke, the beautiful laughter of yours.

Today was just like any other, the Papa practically skipped to the abandoned wing with such joy of seeing you again. As he reached the large doors, Copia couldn’t help, but push them both open to make a grand entrance.

Entering the commons, Copia noticed how you weren’t sitting on the floor like you have been a couple of times. He shrugged it off and went through the practice rooms with no sights of you. Slowly, anxiety creeped up the Papa’s neck as he opened almost every room to look for you.

When he came up empty handed, he glanced at the old summoning room as he gulped. You had joked with the Papa that the summoning room held a beast that could tear humans apart with no trouble. Your joke now didn’t seem so funny as he stood in front of the oak door.

With a great hesitation, his breath hitched as he slowly opened the door. Copia peaked his head in to see a fire within the circle reach to the stone ceiling. As he stumbled in, the Papa saw you standing in front of fire with a frown on your face.

“What’re you doing?” Copia asked, making you sigh with the flames dancing off of your face, “I asked what’re you doing?”

“I cannot stay, Copia, my time is over. I failed.”

“What do you mean?”

You looked over at the Papa, tears streaming down your face as you spoke, “You're not the son of Satan, none of the Papas have been or will be.”

“Step away from the fire, piccolo topo, let’s talk about this somewhere else,” Copia begs, slowly walking closer to you as you continue to cry, “Explain it all to me, please. We can go to the gardens.”

The flames quickly died as you stepped towards him, grabbing the Papa’s wrist as you stormed towards the exit of the Abbey in the wing and out into the cold October night. You dragged him into the forest, muttering something about it being your last chance. You finally let go when you brought him to a clearing.

“Do you remember this place?” you asked, facing Copia as you spoke, “Do you have any of your memories? We were right here! Years upon years ago!”

With a wave of your hand, the surrounding forest changed as someone who looked oddly like Copia stood in front of you. He had a beautiful set of white wings that protected him as you had the same. His voice was similar to Copia’s, but a bit deeper.

“Y/N,” he spoke clearly, making you almost take a step forward.

“Yes?”

He looked back towards the now changed forest, “I’m going to stay and fight for these humans. You don’t have to do this with me.”

“But I want to!” you exclaimed, finally taking a step forward as you tried to reach out for him. Copia saw your desperation and your pain in your eyes as tears fell into the grass.

“I know you do. Please please understand, if we lose, we’ll be killed, and if we win, we can never go home,” he explains, going to grab your hands, only to go through them.

You smiled sadly as you moved your hands like they were in his, “Why would I ever want to go home if you’re here?”

“My angel, you’re wonderful,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss you, but as soon as he was close enough, he disappeared along with the surroundings.

“Everything I ever did, I did for you.”

“I don’t understand…”

You turned to face the Papa as you grabbed his hands and held them close to your heart, “You aren’t the child of Satan, because you are Satan! You’re Satan and I’m your angel! Please please remember!”

Copia subconsciously took a step back, overwhelmed by your frantic words. You took this as a rejection, sighing as you let go of the Papa’s hands. Muttering a small goodbye, wings sprouted from your back as you took off, leaving him alone in the clearing.

“No! Wait!”

It was too late, you were gone by the time he called out. Copia was alone once again, with new memories.

* * *

It had been months since you left, every day for the first month he kept going back to the wing for you, but there was nothing. You had left a hole in the Papa’s heart he didn’t know was there. Even though you weren’t in the abandoned wing, he still found himself going there to process his new memories.

Copia had only told his Ghouls of his discovery with you about his true history, to which all responded with joy. They knew who he was, but it wasn’t their place to tell him. They asked about you a lot, knowing you as the ruler of Hell after Lucifer disappeared.

As his memories of Lucifer slowly came back to him in waves, he found himself missing you even more. The Papa started searching through books for a way to summon you back to Earth, but even with the Ghouls help, the search came up empty.

Until one day, Copia finally found the book you had read him all those months ago, which now thinking about it was almost two years ago. The final page had a ritual, a way to summon the ruler of Hell for those brave souls who were stupid enough to try it.

Copia was more than willing to do it.

The Papa gathered all of the Ghouls in the Abbey for the ritual, telling some to protect the wing and the summoning room as he prepared for it. Chatter was large as Copia grew the signs needed for the ritual with the help of Aether and other Quintessent Ghouls.

It was midnight now, the bell ringing through the Abbey to signal the time. Copia took this time to start the ritual, chanting with the Ghouls as the flame started in the summoning circle. The Papa almost cried at the sight as he heard your voice ring through the room as you sang.

Once the fire calmed down, he finally saw you again, just like the first time all over again. You were singing Life Eternal, your eyes closed as you stood in the circle. All Ghouls gasped, bowing as they quieted down.

“Can you see me longing for you forever?” you sang, slowly opening your eyes as you gasped at the sight. You turned around till you faced Copia once again, “Copia? What’s going on?”

“Ciao mio angelo,” Copia whispered, making you gasp once again as your hands found a home against your mouth. The Papa held out his hand for you to take, “I have missed you so much. I could not wait to see you again.”

“My Lucifer!”

You sob, rushing into his arms as Copia cradled you, running his fingers through your hair. He finally held you in his arms again, your Hellish warmth mixing with his as you two hugged. Slowly, the Papa lifted your head to look at him as he pulled you in for a kiss. Copia finally had you, and he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon.

So sorry for not posting for awhile! I got a little bit of writer's block. I hope you enjoyed this!

#ghostsmybeloved works #ghost x reader #the band ghost x reader #aether ghoul #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #sister imperator #papa nihil

[180oz]

wanted to start posting updates of my life even though nobody is really reading 😫. ive been having a really tough time and i need some positivity in my life to look back on when i feel down or unmotivated. I just want to stop being scared of the world and start taking better actions i can feel proud of 🥺❤️

im actually kind of excited, which i dont feel often!? 2024 feels like its going to be my year. i want to take care of myself and really work on my mental health which needs a lot of love and pampering and big hugs and smooches right now muah 😘

sometimes i forget that i am only 24 and that my life shouldn’t be given up on just yet. I always had this lingering feeling that i would die early based on my mental state or something else happening. even if i was to die early, i want to know that i lived a good life even if it was for a couple of years. i would rather die knowing that i accomplished some very cool things ive always wanted to do than die knowing i stayed the same person for the rest of my life. i want to die happier than i was last year or today.

some small things i want to do this year (some of them will sound very silly and miniscule):

1. bake something from a recipe i saved on youtube

2. post more art on tumblr, especially my OCs and fan art of shows i used to enjoy. learn more art tricks and tips so i can replicate the way i exactly imagine my art to be like !!

3. find a good job for the summer, hopefully one that is full time and i can make good connections and money with 🥺

4. finish this semester knowing i did my best to go to the library and study as much as i can! hopefully pass with a 3.8 overall (i have never gotten over a 3.1 overall since i started university a couple years ago…so lets see where this goes

5. find something i’m very passionate about as i get close to finishing my degree.

6. do more activities with current friends and make new friends

7. make some cool nail art with my polygel nail kit

8. move out of campus dorms and into an apartment with friends this year.

9. start writing again and work on my webcomic

10. learn japanese again so i can visit my friends in japan and impress them with how much ive improved!!

11. learn front end development

12. eat healthy full meals instead of skipping them and snacking throughout the day

13. be the positive happy and kind girl i miss being! ever since i had started going to uni here, my attitude has gotten worse and i feel like i am a bit too mean and sensitive now, but no more of that !

14. get my learners!

15. grow and pamper my lovely natural hair

i dont think this is all but i think its a good start while i make an official goals list for 2024💪🏾

#sushi/motherish actually inspired me to do this 🥹 #came back to tumblr reading her posts after almost a decade and she is still as sweet and inspiring as ever!! #bo's diary

[tamkashi]

happy august 2nd to myself.

one year ago i was hospitalized after a suicide attempt. it felt like an out of body experience. i remember everything yet cant remember having any thoughts about it. i drove for hours and when i finally got back, my bestfriend texted me an old screenshot of us joking around. on a usual day i wouldve stopped to laugh and reply, instead, i ignored it and continued on with my plan without second thought. i had a lot of pills, and i took an entire bottle and more, forced them down nearly dry. i remember finishing my note and calling 911. i was throwing up uncontrollably and i felt like passing out, i was so tired. i remember the 911 operator asking if i could hear the sirens and i said no. somehow i managed to walk myself to the ambulance and met a paramedic who walked me inside and got me onto the stretcher. i was still throwing up uncontrollably, and i remember getting really nervous about getting my first IV. it went into my left wrist and they gave me something to help with the vomiting. i made it into the hospital and i remember every nurse staring as i was wheeled into my room. i remember having to strip into a gown and having all my belongings taken away. i was given more medicine and time is a blur from there. talked to some police and nurses and a psychiatrist. answering the same question over and over. i sat in the room for hours, no thoughts at all. a familiar nurse i had in january was attending me, and he did my EKG. laying exposed, having wires stuck to my body to check on my heart. i had probably been there for 2 hours before a nurse came in and said that my parents were there. i gave them permission and my mom rushed in shortly after, just crying. she held me so close, just crying. my dad just stared and held my hand. i didnt cry, i didnt feel anything, i wasnt there. i remember some lecture from them, and they just sat there with me. i wasnt allowed to close the door because i could be a danger to myself, so i laid in the dark. they almost let me go home, but my heart rate was still through the roof. i remember seeing the doctor walking towards my room and my heart rate went so high that my monitor started going alerting red and he just shook his head and said “you’ll have to stay overnight”. my sister came, crying. they stayed for a while but my mom stayed with me overnight. i finally got my overnight room and the nurse was very nice to me. she set up my heart monitor that i would have to wear for a while and got me water and graham crackers. my mom immediately fell asleep and i just laid there for hours. the nurse came in around 3 and did more things that i cant remember. laid there more, until morning came and we just waited to hear from the doctor. another nurse lectured me with my mom for about an hour before i was finally discharged.

i can say i lied my fucking ass out of there. i just wanted to go home. who gets sent home like 14 hours after a suicide attempt? definitely not most. i wasn’t okay, i thought about doing it again while i was sitting there. i regretted calling the ambulance. i regretted the pain i caused everyone. but i felt better at home with my cats.

it is now a year later. am i better? not at all. but i can say i’m not actively planning to attempt again. i’m just living a miserable life working for no money. i’m basically in the exact same situation and place as i was then. unhappy relationships, unhappy job, unhappy living situation, it hasn’t changed. but at least i can acknowledge this.

i hope one day i can get better. i feel like i deserve that at least.

my head is pounding and i’ve had an awful day. i worked all day, work again soon, and have to do it all again the next day. so i guess ill try to sleep soon, keep myself occupied with all the thoughts of how i could be. i could be happy with a partner who values me and treats me well, financial stability, and living on a farm taking care of all animals. is that too much to ask for?

maybe, we’ll see next august.

[ekgpurplemom]

Koa 10 Hour IVIG

June 6th, 2023

Koa Green ITP 10-hour IVIG treatment

My day began pretty bright and early. I woke up at 7 am and left my room with my husband and baby still sleeping. I walk into the living room and my mother is laying down on the couch. She asks me if she woke me up and I say “No Mom, you’re fine. I just wanted to get up early for Koa’s treatment today and get some stuff ready.” She continues to sit for a few minutes more in an upright position. I know if I’m up she will be too because that’s just the kind of helpful woman she is. I begin to get myself dressed and cleaned up. I prepare a bottle of milk for my son. I pack things along the way…bottles, clothes for me and the baby, a bathroom bag, diapers, snacks, and toys. 

My son Koa has been diagnosed with acute (so far) ITP. Idiopathic Thrombocytic Pupura, but I have yet to hear a doctor say the long form of the disorder 😀. He is 1 year and 6 months old, he was diagnosed at 1 year and 4 months. 

The treatment that he needs today will last about 10 hours. This will increase his platelets for about a month and a half before he needs this same treatment again. That’s two hours longer than my husband's work day, I think to myself. However, I won’t be there alone with my child, my mother has come to help, and my husband will stop by at lunch and come back after work to finished treatment with mom. Once he’s out of work I usually tutor online for 1-3 hours each evening. For the last emergency treatment, I did cancel tutoring but this time, I will work around it. 

The IVIG treatment is gamma globulins, pharmaceutically made to increase the amount of platelets. This will be administered through an IV in his hand, arm, or foot. It can cause nausea, headaches, and irritable behaviors as well as fatigue. Also, my one-year-old can’t tell me if he feels any of that yet, so it sucks. 

I finish loading up the car. As I do so I think to myself it would be nice to have my husband there to help set up at first. But how could I ask him that? He usually arrives late to work from Koa’s blood draws which are each week, two last week when Koa’s platelets got so low. Then he also missed a day due to Koa’s emergency/initial diagnosis hospital stay. That first scare lasted three days and he received his first IVIG then.      

Plus my mom is here to help. However, by the time you park, unload, cross the Helen DeVos bridge, get your pass from the security desk (sometimes there is a line of people there, also waiting for their badges too), and arrive at the hematology/ oncology floor you are already 15-30 minutes late on a good day. So Mom and I leave and once in the car, she asks to stop for coffee and get me donuts for breakfast. I didn't budget time for this but oh well (7:45 am, we need to be there 8:30 am).  She is helping and I’m pretty sure as a mom with a toddler that late isn’t bad. Once in the parking lot, we decided to take what we can carry + the child also needs carrying, and get the rest with the Ozark wagon later.

As I said we have to figure out where we are going and then get the badges before checking in at the Hematology floor. Once there at the check-in we have to put cream on Koa’s arms to prepare for the IVIG and add bandages so the cream stays on. (In hindsight they go for hand or foot for treatment because the arm veins are usually so bruised after multiple blood draws. I will have to remember to do the hands and feet next time. So I don’t think this helped at all.) 

We wait a few minutes and then they call his name. We get vital done and then they show us his room for treatment. I am really happy when I walk in because 1. He’s needed this treatment for a while now. 2. He has significantly bad bruising and has 12k platelets (below safe level). 3. The nurses have put not one but two gym mats on the floor for him to play on! (I never knew I could ask for gym mats at his previous stay which lasted 3 days. The rooms and playroom are hard flooring and my son was just described as a fall risk)! (Ahh!)

However, from an online IPT Parent group I met the only other ITP mom in my city. She helped me advocate for my child. She told me about the cream and bandages and his play area by having me ask for the gym mat. 

The day before I was on the phone for about 13 minutes with the nurse talking about the specifics of his room and the layout to keep my hooked-up (IV) toddler safe. No easy feat.

I do highly recommend getting into an FB parent support group if you have a sick child. Don’t take everything online there seriously but if you can connect with another parent it helps tremendously even over messenger. 

While we are waiting for IV time Child Life come in to introduce themselves and suddenly we have a ton of toys between the ones we brought and the hospital toys. (Child Life workers are amazing hospital staff that helps advocate for sick children by being a support to parents and children.) 

FYI if you have a sick child in your family like this, ask the parents if you can stop by 30 minutes to an hour, it helps. Mom and baby/child see someone new and you don’t have to buy them anything. Just ask a nurse if you can bring the child some toys from their play area. Anything new to the child helps during a 10-hour treatment!

After 15-20 minutes it’s time to set up the IV. We are taken to another room Koa and I. Grandma doesn’t wish to see this part and I understand why. It’s not fun and it hurts. I find myself in this small room with my child and four other ladies. One is our outpatient treatment nurse, the other Child Life, and two are nurses or maybe phlebotomist, I’m not sure. Koa is on my lap and I hold him there while his arms, hand, and feet are checked for the best vein. He squirms and of course, detests this whole process. I have to continually put him back on my lap as he slides down. The first time they try to insert the IV the vein blows as they said and they have to try again somewhere else. Right away, petechiae appears on his arm around the site of the failed attempt. 

They finally establish the IV in his hand and the nurse puts medical tape and a shield around his hand. This took a book and two songs on the IPad to entertain my child. The Child Life worker helped keep him entertained. Still, he cries because an IV is much harder to establish than a blood draw. I asked the nurse why IV is so hard and she explained to me a little. A blood draw is just to take blood out of course but an IV enters a vein to add contents from the IV to the blood stream. So it needs to sit well and stay in. It’s hard as as mom when they are poking and prodding your child. Also a nurse had most of ther arm weight down on my child and it felt like she was pressing down hard on him to stay still. I told her not to forget that he bruises easily. ITP is rare they only have one other patient that lives in the city although more might come to DeVos for treatment. She listens as I speak and says “Oh yes” and then she lightens her arm on Koa. As a rare disorder mom you have to be a spokesperson for your child even amongst nurses. We get back to the room with nana. She talks to him. Then the nurse hooks him up. She gives him medication as well and says he will be asleep in 5-10 minutes due to the drugs. He falls asleep, but it takes quite some time the nurse enters and exits so many times. Child life stops in as well to see when we wish for music therapy to come in. We say later since he starts napping. As he sleeps I thank God for my child and plead for him to get well soon . Yet I’m also thankful that he is finally receiving the treatment he needs. It was a long battle to get approved from insurance but maybe more on that later. 

As he naps my mom is on the phone with my mother in law explaining what the treatments looks like and everything. She goes to the restroom to talk so she won’t wake up Koa. After her call, we eat some sandwiches and snacks from the nourishment area as he sleeps. When Koa awakes we are still going strong with the IVIG. He plays a little on the floor and we give him snacks. I place an online order for Zoup soup. My mom goes to get it in the few minutes the order takes. Dad visits on lunch to play with him and visit. I share my soup and treats with husband. Child Life comes in and decides to send someone later after family time. I crave in a snack because of the stress of it all and give Koa some snacks too. The nurse comes in to check on us and give more medicine. Koa acts a little suirmy and grandma holds him in the chair. Once his dad is gone I go back to Zoup because my mom didn’t realize she’d have to pick up my sweet tea from the cooler. Then I come back and see that Koa didn’t like me leaving but is happy I am back. I use the restroom and hear my mom reacting to Koa who has just thrown up. As I exit the restroom I see Koa has thrown up all over mom. She and him are both a mess. I hold Koa so she can clean up. He cries as fusses because he is messy and of course uncomfortable. She picked her shirt up so she wouldn’t drop all the gross stuff. She uses the restroom. I look at Koa and it is in his hair and on his IV and his clothing. What a mess! Mom changes shirts and I use the sink in the room to rinse his hair. We called the nurse of course to help clean nup. She has to change his medial tape and clean off his IV shield. Note to ITP moms, everyone needs a change of clothes that comes, just in case!

We get him all cleaned up and then Music Therapy with Child LIfe comes in. He is a little shocked at her at first, but seems interested in her guitar and musical instruments. I sing along as she starts with his favorite Wheels on the Bus. My mom has to leave as she cries a little after the first song. She comes back to sing and thank them. Then the nurse has to finish giving him the rest of his liquid medicine he refuses this terribly. The nurse tries, I try, then grandma tries and gets it down! He was screaming, crying and turning his face away every time we came with the little syringe. Towards the end Koa seems really irritable and crys/fusses a lot. We assume he’s going back to sleep with the medication the nurse gave him. He fights sleeping plays some more and then falls asleep. By time my husband comes back after 4:45 he is still asleep. My husband and switch off holding him, so I can go home to tutor online. We told the nurse ahead of time that I would switch with my husband. She asked if I could call the sessions off since Koa is in care. I said maybe but didn’t really want her making decisions for my personal life. Plus my mom and husband watch him while I tutor any other evening. I was there 100% of the time for the last one. Mentally I think it’s good to take a break. Let the other parent take some of the burden. I did 8 hour and husband did 2 or less. No that I’m comparing but having shifts just like the nurses do really helps out. Koa has two adults and that’s enough. 

Then I drove my husband’s car home which was an experience by itself and I taught online. An hour and a half later husband, Koa, and grandma arrive home.

Once we are all home together we are beyond exhausted. Then my husband assembled Koa’s  Cocomelon bed together the same night. Kudos to him! 

Post Care

The post care for Koa included taking pills for 3 days. Two sets of pills twice a day, one in the moring and one in the evening. It was also very rough getting the medication from our local Meijer Pharmacy because one was ready and technically he needed the unavailable one first. Then I call and tell them this and explain if he needs it twice a day he should get at least one dos by noon. The other medication they are out of and it’s clear there is some confusion about it in general. So the pharmacy and the hematology/ oncology team goes back and forth several times. Then I’m at the pharmacy and Koa can’t sit still. Then they inform me that the last medicine comes in a liquid but it’s too late the change it now. So yeah totally don’t recommend Meijer Pharmacy but what are you going to do.  You still need the medication at the end of the day. 

That’s a wrap. Or an unhooking as we could say.

PurpleMom 

#ITP awareness

Elyssa Green

[thav]

12/17/2022 3:21 AM

hi~

i just finished my next project i think... i feel very satisfied and content with it so far :o i cant believe i finished another body of work that i somehow feel even more seen by than the one ive yet to put out lolol. but

these songs feel very... revolutionary. at least for me. i feel like the last few months creatively ive been embodying different spirits, souls and seances to create this project and it feels very enthralling and like... complete lol it’s really weird to write about things ive been going through recently and just like processing trauma constantly like holy fuck theres so much information

literally cant wait for you guys to hear this project one day. It’s gonna be my self-titled release :) 

also, i got to hang out with Eden again. I love hosting people and I made her pasta, salmon and a salad and we drank wine and soju and i got a little too drunk and passed out(sorry eden) but i revived before she left :) 

Gluccci-wucci has been sooooo cute and sweet recently but yaps like a motherfucker when he sees other dogs lol. But like its cute cus its his way of saying hi? 

Working on this latest project randomly gives me anxiety about going deaf one day because then how can i work on music lol but i guess theres always writing

One of my new years resolutions is to be better at playing guitar but also it's kind of charming to be a really shitty guitarist but write all of your songs on one? LOL

I am v tired bc i keep staying up way too late but still waking up in the early morning but likeeeeeee what are we gonna do lol

I started vaping again :o but its just for fun.. for now lol i will probably quit again sometime soon

I love my mom

I love you

Thav

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

The Marital Home (Regulus Black x Reader) Part IV (Final)

Word Count: 6146

TW: Alcohol, addiction, pregnancy, childbirth (NOT GRAPHIC), blood, anxiety, vomiting. (I promise it's not as bad as all that, it's entirely ungraphic and mostly only mentioned and not described at all)

A/N: I so enjoyed writing this last bit! Sorry it's so so long, but I just wanted a decent end and couldn't figure out how to split it well, but I hope enjoy. I am taking requests, and noe I'm finished with this, will be able to do them much much quicker, so if you're waiting for one, or want one, I'm on it! Please do send them in and do let me know what you thought about this part!

Part I Part II Part III

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

-----------------------

When she knew, she nearly threw up from the shock of it. It wasn't what she was expecting, or wanted. Not yet.

She probably should have expected it.

They'd been avoiding eachother, Reg wasn't going to stop drinking, it was the only thing he could make work and he was too far in now to just give it up, and (Y/n) didn't want to argue again, or have to watch him, with an aching heart, stumble around, with that sluggishness he got when he drank. Reg thought it best for them both, to stay away. Keep out of her way and she could live her life, and he could keep on doing as he wanted.

She found herself in a dilemma. She missed him. Which felt strange considering their odd relationship anyway, but they had been making progress, and she had hope. That optimism that they had shared at the beginning of their relationship had faded, into a resignation to what their lives had become. Firmly seperate.

Once she knew, she knew she couldn't keep it from her husband forever. In theory, as they didn't sleep in the same room, never saw each other naked, in fact rarely saw eachother at all- and when they did, it was mainly just sheepish awkward glances at the floor and skirting past eachother quickly, she could hide it for muxh longer than a normal wife could keep that kind of thing from her husband. But she couldn't do that, from a moral point of view.

They'd been married nearly a year (now their birthdays had both passed without note or celebration) and none of it had gone right. They had begun as strangers, shy teenagers who wanted to try and do what they had to, to please their parents. Then they became, breifly, friends, and even more breifly, lovers. Now, they were strangers again, and willing to be.

Eventually she had to confess to him her secret. She couldn't avoid thinking about it by scrubbing floors or leaving the house and meeting with her mother for lunch, or shopping. She'd finally have to open up the one room she'd never bothered with until now. She'd spent her time cleaning and redecorating the parlor and conservatory, she'd even managed the dining room, knowing she would be the only one who would ever see it. (Excluding the awkward visits from their mothers, where in the couple had to pretend they lived in domestic bliss).

She had woken up that morning, with shaking hands, determined to tell him after a goodly while of keeping it to herself. She couldn't muster the courage to do it until the sky was golden in the evening and the air was humid, hot and sticky.

She paced back and forth in the hall before approaching the study door.

She knocked and waited. She didn't know what kind of day it was, if he was black out drunk or closer to sober.

"Yes?" Reg answered from inside, confused and surprised by her, as she'd never once done this before. He didn't sound like he'd drunk much.

She slowly and cautiously opened the door and stepped in for the first time.

She didn't have the mind to look around, she was too focused on what she was trying to do.

He stood and placed the bottle and glass that he had on his desk away and out of sight before he looked up at her. He didn't like her to see it.

She stood before him, unsteady and suddenly lightheaded. She already felt sick, and it was worse now. She fidgeted and he immediately knew something was wrong. All the colour was drained from her face and her eyes darted about a little.

"Are you alright?" Reg asked, stepping toward her, but stopping as she became visibly agitated. She shook her head.

"I-" she stuttered and tried to find the words she needed. "Reg- I-" her words were punctuated with shaky breaths. "I'm-" she took a deep breath and tried to finish her sentence, muttering it under her breath. "Pregnant."

She couldn't look at him for a moment but when she did meet his gaze, it was like he hadn't reacted at all. He stood in silence.

He brought his hand to his face, the other resting on his hip, and turned away from her, and as she watched, it was almost visible, the amount of the thoughts running through his head.

"I'm sorry, I-" She began, frantically. "I'm sorry - This isn't what we-" She couldn't being herself to continue as she thought she had encountered the worst case scenario and felt that awful lump in her throat return.

As he heard her, Reg turned around and shook his head.

"No, my darling girl-" he spoke softly, with a familiar tenderness about him, and moved toward her. "No." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek, his own hands starting to shake and a knot tying in the pit of his stomach, a familiar feeling. He pressed his cheek to hers and cradled her in his arms as tears fell from her eyes. How these moments of crisis for the couple brought them together they would never understand.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and whispered.

"You've done nothing wrong."

This feeling they shared, must have been similar to that one they'd had at the altar, total trepidation, equal and matched to eachother. Reg could feel her heart pounding half way out of her chest and he just held her tighter.

This was never a milestone they planned to hit, not considering the circumstances. What Regulus had always wanted to be in this relationship was a supportive husband, but he knew he couldn't be one. The anxiety and coping habits that went along with it got the better of him. His paranoia enveloped him. This was a life he that he was unequipped for. Similarly, (Y/n) was a woman who could barely be described as one, barely out of her school years (as was Regulus), she walked on eggshells around her husband, she attempted to navigate domestic duty but she didn't like it, it felt like playing pretend when she didn't often have the confidence to look her husband in the eye or successfully confront him, and when she tried it had only lead to indulging in carnal sin with the man- one who, to her, may as well have been a stranger in the street.

But now they had no choice, they were stuck in a situation they had created for themselves and were both terrified and unhappy with it. If they had been in love, held anything more than a painful affection for each other maybe they would be more optimistic, happier, but they weren't. They'd be kidding themselves to say they were at all excited about it. They were a paranoid drunk and a miserable housewife, not made to be a family.

After a moment Regulus pulled away, sliding his hands to rest on her hips and looking down at where soon a bump would begin to show. (Y/n) rested her hands on his forearms and watched his face, thoughtful and solemn.

He looked up at her and in a soft, breathy laugh, spoke, shaking his head slowly and crinkling up his nose.

"This is so fucking stupid, eh?" He tried to muster a smile, but it was a reluctant and sad one. She laughed, wiping her eyes and nodded. "This is the stuff we're supposed to be happy about." He continued, pulling her back into him. "We're so fucked." He spoke quitely, looking up to the heavens for the strength that might hold them both together through this.

As summer finally waned, and as that first anniversary approached at a rate of knots, they knew that they had to tell the rest of the family about the imminent arrival. Regulus finally had to go back to his childhood home, hand in hand with his bride, and sat with his mother. Since his father had died (which didn't help their issues in the slightest), the house had felt cold, his mother even more so than she had always been, and Reggie hated being there- he was glad to have been able to leave when he did.

They sat across from Walburga and Regulus spoke for them, feeling his wife's hand tremble in his, and with a stiff drink down his neck before they'd left for his own nerves. He broke the news, and for the first time in years, a smile broke across his Mother's pale lips. She looked quite beautiful when she smiled, (Y/n) thought, as if she were shining a light from her that hadn't been on for a long time. She wondered if Walburga and Orion's marriage had been anything like theirs was, and if it was, if that was why she was the woman she had become. (Y/n) hoped desperately that wasn't true, she wanted so badly to avoid walking in the footsteps of her mother-in-law.

Walburga insisted on being more involved in their life from then, surprisingly excited to have a grandchild. She still observed the gulf between the households that was proper, she believed in the couple and their own homemaking abilities, but she couldn't help herself but be keen. She almost seemed then, to be a normal mother.

Throughout the next few months, Regulus tried desperately to ease off the drink, though quickly found it wasn't so easy as that. He wanted to, so badly. If he was going to be a father, and he was, they both knew that they had no choice in the matter, he knew he couldn't live like this as well. It wasn't an option to have both. He also tried to be around more, when he could. He wanted to be close to his wife, earn her confidence and be able to live with her, not just co-exist.

There was something quite protective in his attention too, she noticed. He was terrified that something would happen that would hurt her, nevermind the baby, he didn't care- he really didn't, but this beautiful woman that he knew he had been disregarding and taking for granted, that had been handed to him on a silver platter, she was far more precious.

He refused to let her do anything he deemed strenuous, the kind of things she had always done around the house and in life that kept her busy, and sane. He insisted that she just use magic, and she knew he meant well (and couldn't bare the argument it might cause) so she agreed. She now spent her days bored, so she left the house, walked around the shops, buying books, new records and things for the house. This caused him anxiety too, his beautiful but, in his mind, fragile wife, out in a vicious world, but he couldn't stop everything she did, he knew that that was cruel and he feared most that she might hate him. Or might hate him more than she may do already.

(Y/n) was scared, her body had become alien to her. She knew what was happening, but it felt strange, and the prospect of doing it all for a baby she wasn't ready for, didn't want, they hadn't planned for and that was by no means a miracle or gift as a result, didn't remedy the nausea she had, the heightened emotions and the little bump that made all her favourite clothes uncomfortable or not fit at all. She was glad that the bump never got very big, like she saw on most women, and that the baby didn't squirm too often. She knew it was the kind of thing people usually worried about but an unwelcome thing would always be unwelcome, so she could only bring herself to be neutral on the prospect of it.

She had imagined this, many times. Having a baby. She always thought of herself as quite maternal, she didn't mind babies and she quite enjoyed spending time around small children, but this was all different than how it was supposed to be. She was meant to be in love, and this whole this was meant to be a decision, not a mistake.

She enjoyed Reg's attempts to unify them. She supported him as well as she could, though she was ill equipped for it, in his efforts to stop drinking, or at least not do so, so badly. Even through the relapses and jitters, the irritability and anxiety. It was how she took her mind off of the whole thing.

They'd even ended up sleeping in the same bed- most of the time. The soothing presence of one-another in the long dark night helped, and it conformed with Reg and his recent protective instinct, and motivated him to actually go to bed at night, not stay up drinking. Even if he lay beside her, holding her hand, awake, anxious and scared as all hell, all night, he knew it was better than doing what he didn't want to.

It was mid December when he awoke in the middle of the night to find his wife absent from her place beside him.

A shot of panic went through him like a spear and he sat up as fast as a bullet. He fumbled in the dark to his feet, and saw through the cracked open door, a sliver of light in the hall. He raced to it and found (Y/n) in the bathroom, doubled over, cradling that little bump of hers. She looked up at him with a whimper and he saw tiny tears running down her cheeks and she frantically shook her head. Sweat already beaded on her forehead and her face was pale.

Just half an hour later, he was stood outside the house, in the cold, in spitting rain and the first pair of shoes he'd come to, smoking a cigarette and shivering. He looked up at the hallway window and could see the shadows come down the hall and dance around in the glass as two healers did their work, and there was plenty, this all happening a month before due.

He had been shooed away by the healers, he didn't have to be outside, but they wouldn't let him be even remotely close. This was the only way he could have any glimpse of what was going on, stood in the cold in an old navy wool jersey and a pair of jeans he'd swiped from the laundry as he walked by, a pair of oxfords from the hallway on his feet, unsuitable for the time of year, weather and mud.

There was a pit in his stomach, he'd already thrown up twice into some shrubs, and now he could just taste bile and the cigarettes he was getting through. He listened and heard her screams, cries of pain and wails of agony that were piercing. He cringed at every sound.

He couldn't get over the sinking feeling that everything happening in there, was his fault. If anything worse happened, it would be his fault. He would have taken the life of a beautiful and intelligent young woman. Some part of him thought that in a different way he already had. Yes he had to be a father, but at what cost did he pay? It was her toll, her body and her pain. They had shared one night, but they couldn't share this- this was her peril. If he could have shared it, he would. He didn't want to hold that guilt all his life but he could only wait.

It wasn't all that long before he was called inside.

"She won't even look at it." One of the healers sneered at him as she lead him to the bedroom, instead of answering the meekly asked question of 'is my wife alright?'. An awful smell arose, of blood and sweat, almost sickly and sweet, as they entered. He first layed eyes on her, deathly pale and waxy, a lull in her eyes and her cheat rising and falling quickly. She was exhausted and still in pain.

He stepped toward her but was stopped and a , bundle whirled into his arms. He looked down at the tiny, tiny baby he suddenly was holding. It was the smallest thing he'd ever seen. Delicate and pale it moved slightly and yawned. His heart swelled for a moment, as he held on tightly to this little thing in his hands, but still he moved to the bed and sat at the edge. With one hand he pushed away the strands of hair stuck to (Y/n)'s face with sweat. She let him do it, but couldn't look at him.

She didn't want to hold it, or look at it, or even think about it. She didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, she didn't know if she cared. She felt nothing maternal, no flood of hormones that made her want to hold the wretched thing that had just caused her such agony. She was in some form of shock, she guessed. Or denial. She had been in denial since she found out she was going to have it. In some child-like way, in the back of her mind she thought that if she ignored the situation, it would go away entirely.

Reg held her hand and leant down to her, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"I love you" he whispered. "I love you, and you've done so well. So so well." He breathed heavily as tears began to sting his eyes. "And he's beautiful. I know this isn't what we wanted, but we've got to. He's here now, we've gotta try and love him." He squeezed her hand. "If I've got to love him for both of us I will, because he's already so much of you. And you've done so much already." He wanted to tell her he could do it all by himself, that it was unfair anyway and she should escape and live some dream untethered by this life, but that was untrue. He needed her more than ever, but she had to know he understood how much she had given already. That it was okay to be upset and angry with it all, because he was too, but he was already in love with this tiny thing they now had, just as much as he was in love with her (though that was something he was never able to articulate properly, not romantically. He could be sexual when drunk and shy when sober. Never romantic in the way he wished he could be).

(Y/n) turned her head away from him and the baby, and scrunched her eyes closed, bringing her hands up to her face. She felt she had no faith left. She had spent so much of this marriage, crying, distressed and angry. She didn't blame him at all, but she could no longer weather all of this.

The months spent resigned to the misery, when there was that youthful optimism that maybe one day things would change, had worn her down. This was never the life she imagined for herself, and she didn't want a speck of what she had.

She wanted to believe what her husband told her, but she no longer belived he could change, as much as she did believe he willed himself to. She wanted to believe that she could step into the shoes of housewife and mother, that that would at all suit her, but it bored her. What had initially been a new adventure had become boring and miserable. She could no longer derive joy from fabric samples for drapes, or strips of wallpaper. She no longer worried about her husband or the future of their relationship, she had come to hold such deep affection for Regulus, but she saw no point in worrying, if he was going to drink himself to an early grave then come hell or high water he would, and she was powerless to stop him. Their relationship couldn't thrive, or even grow, under such scrutiny as that.

And this child. She didn't want it. She never had. No excitement over preparing for it's arrival, the clothes and linens and paint. She still felt like a child herself and this was no household for a child. It barely felt like her own home, despite the efforts she made. But this house now held a roof over three heads.

As much as Regulus had now accepted that his wife was upset at the arrival of this child, her refusal to even look at it scared him. He felt great love for this baby, he now possesed a piece of new life. But he hadn't carried it against his will, nor contributed to bringing it forth into this world. He couldn't hold himself in anguish against it because of those things. He had only waited for it's arrival.

He didn't know what to say to her. He wanted to be what husbands are supposed to be, loyal to their wives. But now, her reasons for her feelings were understandable, and she had made no wrong footing in this marriage that ever lead to this misery for herself and neither had his son done anything wrong to go without a mother. He was torn. He was willing, to be a father. Or at least more willing than (Y/n) was to be a mother.

(Y/n) just curled up and sobbed into her hands. She couldn't bare what was happening. It was too much.

Reg stood and left the room with his son cradled quietly in his arms. He knew he should think of the baby as their son, but he wondered that if she had the choice, if his wife wouldn't prefer that it were solely his.

At the very least Reg was glad the child was healthy. He sat gazing down at him as he slept, a tiny creature, all his. He felt no anxiety, only a wash of calm just then. Though he wished he could share this moment with the woman he loved, he knew that to some degree that was an unfair thing to ask.

The baby had a little tuft of soft, dark hair, like his, and a skin tone that was just the same as it's mother's. He had delicate little eyelashes, and he just looked like her. That woman who was sat sobbing in the next room, still reeling from the shock and pain of new motherhood.

Suddenly Regulus was facing the biggest conflict of his life. He'd faced plenty of conflict, but this was his, and only his. No-one could help or rescue him now.

This child, his child, so small and vulnerable, innocent and who didn't even have a name yet. Or, his wife, (Y/n). A woman who had stood by him, tried to look after him, as hard as he tried to deny he needed it. She had built a home for them, given him this tiny little creature he never expected to love so much. She had never wanted what she had, but always been grateful for it. She deserved more than that, and it's what Reg intended to give her.

It's not that he wanted to take sides, that's just not how life works, but how could he adore them both and be what they needed in this situation. He had his own issues, anxiety, addiction. He had no idea if he would ever come close to overcoming them, or this. This hurdle that asked for loyalty and possession and called him to choose, taunting with no wrong answer. It asked him to choose what couldn't be chosen, and there was no escape for any party here.

He stood, cradling the warm, wriggling thing in his arms. He hunched over the baby, enveloping it, leaning down to it, his now longish, dark hair falling over his face as he did. He couldn't help but smile, wrinkles forming at his eyes and a an overwhelmingly happy, but choked up, feeling forming in his chest and throat. He never expected this. He never expected to be a father, nor happy to be one. He felt all too young and not enough for it, but he reasoned that his own father was so inconsequential to his upbringing (Walburga, or the governess she would appoint, being the driving force) that it couldn't take much to be better, at least, than he'd had.

Regulus placed his son softly, swaddled in a duckling yellow linen blanket, into the moses basket. He looked down at the sleeping child and sighed deeply. Finally he tore himself away from it and proped open the door, so he could hear out for any cries, and did the same on his own bedroom door.

He looked to the bed, and in the soft warm light of the bedside lamp, and the gas streetlight below the window, (Y/n) cowered, but had finally fallen silent. She had no more tears left to give.

The sheets she lay on and clothes she wore were still blood stained and soiled. The healers, despite the status of the Black family, had shown such distain toward her for her rejection of what was the heir to the dynasty, that they neglected to provide any care further than making sure she lived. Reg wondered that had it been a baby girl, if they would have accepted more readily the rejection. It didn't matter to either of them, and in that moment, there was nothing that could change the past.

Reg knelt and pulled out a basket from underneath the bed, from which he took clean sheets, the softest and gentlest he could find, before replacing it. Slowly and carefully he stripped the bed, touching her as little as possible, only when he needed to, and similarly as he placed the new bedding on. The sheets he had taken off, he took straight down to the cellar, and put them into the tin wash tub to soak.

He made his way back up the stairs and pushed open (Y/n's) bedroom door, he collected her quilt, clean clothes (just a spaghetti strap vestof the kind she often wore to bed, and a pair of bed-shorts, along with underwear) and her hairbrush.

Reg unfolded the quilt first, and spread and folded once over it at the end of the bed, primed to be pulled up and over when wanted. He then knelt on the floor by the bed, this time just in front of her. He reached out and clasped his fingers around hers. He spoke in whispers as he told her exactly what he was doing. She cooperated, moving slowly, and with hesitation, still shivering a little, and hunched. He matched her pace as his fingers brushed against her skin, as he tenderly pulled the still damp and sweaty clothes off of her, and helped her replace them with clean, comfortable ones. He placed a kiss on her cheek and sat on the bed behind her, so that she layed back into his chest, and he brushed her hair delicately before tying it back and out of her face.

Finally he just lay beside her, holding her hand tightly, up and close to his lips. He wanted to speak his mind to her, and yet he had no clue what to say. So he lay in silence, totally focused on her, as she fell asleep.

He couldn't help but drift off again, as the wee hours closed.

It couldn't have been much later when he was started awake by crying. He jolted up, his eyes still blurry, and just glimpsed the sight of his wife disappearing into the hall.

He followed swiftly and found (Y/n) with the baby in her arms. She wasn't looking down at him, rather she was looking anywhere but at the baby as she held him. She turned to Reg, who stood in the doorway.

"It needed fed." She looked to him with tears welling up in her eyes, and still with that awful shiver about her. She was still weak, and found soon that her legs struggled to hold her, so she perched on the edge of a neaby seat, far too tense to relax at all.

Similarly, Reg couldn't help but fidget nervously as he stood in the doorway. He instead found himself in the kitchen, making two cups of tea and picking up a packet of 'Nice' biscuits.

He climbed the stairs yet again and found the baby back in it's bed, not quite asleep, but content. He handed a cup to his wife, who took it gratefully. She seemed to have finally leant back into the armchairchair she had been on, and Reg perched himself beside her on the arm of it.

"Are you alright?" He asked, still in whispers, as if speaking any louder might upset the blanace they had somehow found. (Y/n) looked up at him and shook her head meekly, leaning into his side. He placed a hand on her opposite shoulder and rubbed his thumb up and down comfortingly over her cool skin.

"Reggie?" (Y/n) looked up at him, and asked hesitantly, after a moment of quiet. "Did you have a drink tonight?" For a second, he didn't meet her gaze, but forced himself to look to her. His silence gave her an answer. She just nodded.

"Not much." He offered desperately. "I promise you-" She cut him off by placing a hand on top of his on her shoulder. and leaning into him more.

"It's alright." She said under her breath.

"No-" Reg returned. "No. I don't want to keep on like this." He paused and thought for a moment. "I want this all to work. And I'm going to try." (Y/n) just nodded.

As the sun began to rise, they stayed sat there, until their tea was cold and cups discarded. The silence was comfortable, and they both were coming to terms with things. It was only broken as (Y/n) spoke.

"The baby will need a name." She stated, though still not entirely able to look at her son. Regulus looked down at her and nodded.

"Anything in mind?" He asked. She shook her head. Again it was quiet for a moment.

"The Black's all have traditionally celestial names, don't they?" She asked and nodded. "You're Regulus, and Regulus is the brightest star in the Leo constellation, so what about Leo?" She suggested and a smiled began slowly to spread across Reg's face.

"Yes." He took his wife's hand. "Yes, that's perfect."

"Do you want to give him a middle name?" She asked and Reg again nodded.

"Could we name him after my brother?" He asked, and she agreed.

(Y/n) stood, shakily and approached the moses basket. She picked up her child tenderly and cradled him close to her.

"Hello." She spoke very quietly, and with wavering voice. "Leo Sirius Black" She looked up at Regulus. "It suits him." She breathed deeply as she finally looked down at her baby. She wasn't sure still, but she had no choice. She wasn't cruel either, she knew she was needed, and she wasn't sure it was in her nature to resent this child, as much as she felt her mind urged her to. This was just something that happened, she couldn't stop, and she would preserve through, for the sake of her own sanity. She hoped she would grow to love this tiny little thing as much as she had grown to love Reggie. That would make things easier. But for now, she cast pity upon herself and him, and that was enough for her to keep going.

Her features softened as she looked down at him. A look of sadness, a tinge of fear too, but also maybe some small bond beginning to form, with reluctance.

As Reg watched, he suddenly remembered the dream he'd been having just before the baby was born.

His wife, in a white dress, decorated with blue cornflowers, with gold thread in their leaves. A baby boy on her hip and a young boy, maybe five years old, stood by her side. They stood in the sun. Laughing. There was a breeze in the air, the smell of the sea, and behind them, a stone cottage, with painted shutters on the windows, and vines climbing for the heavens. Above the door a wooden sign, painted with white letters 'Mon Rêve'. He could feel grass under his feet, and sun on his face.

He stood, approached his wife and child and wrapped them in his arms. He was struck by the realness of that dream, the fullness of his heart as he recalled it.

"Mon amour? Parles-tu Français?"

She looked up at him and laughed.

"Évidemment."

Walburga was delighted by her new grandson, less so by the choice of name. She had been notified of his birth by the family tapestry. As she sat drinking her morning tea, she had watched as a leaf unfurled beneath her youngest son's name, and read the new one aloud.

This, however, made no difference to the couple. Before spring had arrived, they had sold their house, and purchased a cottage on the coast of France. It had shutters, a small amount of land on which a vineyard had historicaly been, and on which grapevines still grew. There was a small kitchen, though with room for their large kitchen table, and cellar, two bedrooms, two reception rooms, a living room that opened with sliding panel doors to a study filled with bookshelves, and all the fittings and fixtures they needed. It had a view of the sea, and a large shed, at the back of which was a chicken coop. They weren't far from the village and they realised they had found home.

By mid April they had moved in. Their things fit perfectly. Lace curtians on the windows, the vinyl player in the living room, books in the study and radio in the kitchen. All their best china sat happily in the cabinet in the kitchen, pots and pans hung above the stove and their photographs sat on the mantle. Leo learnt to crawl on the soft grass and he was a happy baby. He wasn't often out of Regulus' sight, always in his arms, being cradled, or read to or cooed at. Though very occasionally, when he cried, Regulus couldn't soothe him. Sometimes he just wanted his mother, as hesitant as she was with him, and scared as she was, it was her arms he wanted, her perfume to surround him, her face to see.

The bad times still existed, they wouldn't go away in an instant, but they improved. They found that anxiety eased here, in this place that they had chosen. In this place where they surrounded themselves eith eachother and love, where they tried to compromise and understand one another. Here they felt like they had married for love, and they began to feel safe.

When (Y/n) found it hard to be around the baby, or had pangs of doubt that she was able to cope with her domestic role, she walked into the village, and found that suddenly it was easier to breathe. When Reg found himself drinking to excess, he couldn't hide that away here, and he had begun to speak, rather than hide at the bottom of a bottle. He didn't fear that his wife would judge him, or think badly of him for his thoughts. She listened, and he listened to her.

They had befriended people in the village quite quickly, another young couple, just married, with their own baby due soon, who happened to live on a neighboring farm, and the local vicar and his wife, who had nine children, ranging from a 17 year old girl, who was an apprentice to the local seamstress, to a six year old boy. The village, they found was full of characters. This place suited their new family.

Just before Leo's second birthday the war ended. Regulus was relieved, though devestated of the implications of his brother's role. Finally he needed no longer to attend meetings of the Dark Lord, nor worry about intimidation or attack. He avoided Azkaban by giving up willingly all the information he had, and he was pardoned from any suspicions quickly.

Now he finally knew the whereabouts of Sirius after his capture, he wrote him a letter, not with much sentimental content, but simply informing him of his nephew, his name and such. He never received a reply.

But finally they had found a home. One they had built together, that was warm and friendly and wasn't empty or hollow. It was all they needed.

Above the door, Regulus had painted on a piece of wood, and hung ceremoniously, the words 'Notre Rêve'.

----------

Tags:

@heyyitsreign @obnoxioussmiley

#hp fanfic #hp imagine #regulus imagine #regulus fanfiction #regulus headcanon #sirius and regulus #regulus black #regulus x y/n #regulus deserved better #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, ���Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

[matcha-narancia]

Hiiiii its me again bc i keep going back and rereading your drabbles fksjjdjwn !! Can i request Abbacchio/reader and Rohan/reader drabbles where the reader has anxiety ?? My anxiety has been really bad lately and ive been obsessed with them for the past few weeks djsjjdjsns - 🦷

I’m Here | Abbacchio and Rohan comforting their Anxious S/O Drabbles (Separate)

𝐀/𝐍: Hello again love, welcome back! I’m so sorry to hear that, and I hope these drabbles help out a little! Since you didn’t mention any specific scenarios, I decided on a deadline one for Rohan and a public situation for Abbacchio. Hope you don’t mind this!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): (Some) Spoilers for Parts 4 and 5! Minor mentions of alcohol in Abbacchios!

Rohan Kishibe

The sun had long since set over the town of Morioh. Yet the house of Rohan Kishibe still had all the lights on, albeit dimmed.

You paced back and forth in Rohan’s office as he looked over his latest drafts for his manga. The worry eating away at you with each passing second.

Finally, the mangaka placed the sheet he was examining down and gazed up at you worriedly.

“Sweetheart, I promise you you’ll get it done on time.”

You suddenly stopped, eyes frantic.

“But what if I don’t Ro? This is a big project and it would weigh into the rest of my work pretty significantly!”

“Y/N, you’ve been working hard at it for nearly two weeks! You can afford some break time before you finish it up.”

“Please Ro… I— I just need to do a little more and—“

Suddenly, Rohan Kishibe stood and made his way to you, sitting you both on the floor and making sure you looked into his eyes.

“Love, please put this to rest for now. Just tonight. I agree more than anybody that deadlines are important. Especially this one. But you’re letting the work overtake you. Spend some time taking care of yourself tonight, and in the morning you can stay here and finish up whatever you need to with it.”

You stayed silent for a moment, thinking about his compromise. Then, you rubbed your tired eyes and smiled a little.

“I guess I could give it a little break…”

“Excellent!”

“But you better know that this applies to you too. C’mon, no more looking over your manga. I think the story’s perfect as is.”

You grinned, and he rolled his eyes in response. Nevertheless, you took his head in your hands and kissed his cheek, murmuring a little ‘Thanks Ro’ in his ear.

Leone Abbacchio 

Your grip on Abbacchio’s hand rivaled that of a pro arm wrestler, and you had to ask him more than once if he was alright with it.

You were standing in the corner of one of Passione’s annual team get-togethers, meant for exchanging information and data. However, after a short while the buzz became too much, and you retreated to said corner.

Abbacchio found you shortly after, dismissing Narancia and Mista who were pestering him and insisting on staying with you.

Half an hour had passed, and you had not once stepped foot back into the crowd.

What surprised you was that Abbacchio had still chosen to stay.

“…You’re really not going back in either?” You asked, and he smiled a little and shook his head.

“The only party I need is here with you.” He also tilted his head a bit and opened his coat, revealing a bottle of wine tucked away within an inside pocket, “Also maybe this.”

You giggled.

“Besides,” He started again, looking off into the crowd, you looked too, and immediately noticed Narancia and Mista swinging atop a chandelier, “This is way better than keeping those two out of trouble all night.”

“Totally agree with you on that. You may’ve needed to sneak another bottle if that was the case.”

You joked, and his smile widened a bit. You raised an eyebrow a bit.

“Hey, is the Leone Abbacchio smiling at a joke? I never knew you could be this lighthearted.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, draping a strong arm over your shoulder and pulling you close.

“I’m only in a good mood because I’m with you. Trust me, if I were forced to be anywhere else right now I’d be how I usually am.”

This prompted another giggle from you, and you hugged his side.

“Love you Abba.”

“Love you too, amore.”

↳ 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬/𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! ♡

#again I am SO sorry this is really late anon! #I hope you still enjoyed these though! #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable #jjba diu #jjba part 4 #jojo’s bizarre adventure vento aureo #jjba vento aureo #jjba part 5 #rohan kishibe #rohan x reader #leone abbacchio #abbacchio x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure drabbles #jjba drabbles

[companionjones]

Your Smile (Part 3)

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Reader

Fandom: Doctor Who

Summary: You finally wake up, and the Doctor and you get a chance to talk.

Warnings: Self-harm, needles, IVs, sleep deprivation, dehydration, malnutrition, child abuse, abuse, psychological abuse

1 // 2

*******

   You were out for two more hours after the Doctor brought you back to the TARDIS. He was really starting to get antsy when you finally opened your eyes.

    The first thing you did was smile at him. It was smaller and weaker than a lot of your other smiles, but it was more genuine than most. But then you seemed to remember. You started looking around, getting increasingly more panicked, then your eyes fell on the IV in your arm.

    “Get this-Get this out of me! Get this out of me, please!” You went to pull it out.

    The Doctor sprung to his feet to restrain your arms. “No! No, wait. You need it. The nutrients I am giving you are practically keeping you alive.”

    Reluctantly, you left the tube alone. “I don’t...like...needles. I don’t like having it inside of me.”

    He rationalized, “I promise, you don’t need to have it in you much longer. Just, don’t look at it. Look at me. Don’t think about it.��

    “That is so much easier to say than it is to do,” you replied shakily.

    “Why are you afraid of needles?” The Doctor figured he would engage you in conversation to get your mind off things.

    “I don’t know. I’ve just always had it.” You avoided the Doctor’s eye.

    He reached forward and placed his hand on yours. “Do you remember collapsing back at the island planet?”

    The question seemed to jump-start your memory. “Did you save those creatures?”

    He nodded. “I did.”

    Suddenly, tears started to well in your eyes.

    That alarmed the Doctor.

    “I’m so sorry,” you cried, “You had to do all those important things, and I was no help.”

    “Don’t worry about that now,” the Doctor comforted, “Everything’s alright now. It’s just...why didn’t you tell me?”

    “Tell you what?” You were still crying. You must’ve known what he was talking about.

    Still, the Doctor clarified, “You passed out from malnutrition, dehydration, and sleep deprivation. I also found your visual self-harm scars.”

    At that, you turned your head away from him.

    “Why...Why would you do that to yourself?”

    You didn’t move when you began, “...You must live such an amazing life...Sure, you run into some danger, like you just did, but that planet...it was so beautiful. You see stuff like that every day?”

    He sighed, “I do.”

    “You must meet so many wonderful, kind creatures. You get to see the good of creation so, so often.”

    The Doctor didn’t know where you were going. “Y/n, I--”

    “I never got to truly interact with good people. You’re the first actual good person to give me the time of day, and you’re not even human.” When you finished, you were quietly laughing.

    The Doctor’s hearts dropped. He said your name again. It was laced with sorrow.

    “My parents developed bad habits when I was young. They probably had them before I was born. That’s where my fear of needles comes from, seeing them shoot up everyday. I don’t know why they kept me. They certainly didn’t like me, yet they rarely let me go outside. They said that I wasn’t even worth the light of day. Said that no one would ever care for me. No one would ever love me...I believed them so much that I didn’t even leave when I turned 18. I stayed all the way up to 4 years ago, when my mom overdosed and my dad he...he killed himself. I actually cried, Doctor. I actually cried. God, I’m pathetic.”

    The Doctor moved to sit on the bed he had you on. “You are not pathetic. You will never be pathetic,” the Doctor assured without having to think about what to say at all. There wasn’t room for anymore thoughts in his mind. All he could think about was how to make you feel better.

    How could anyone have treated you like that? How could anyone abuse you at all? You were a ray of starlight that the Doctor only wished happiness for, and he had only just met you. How was it fair for you to have grown up in such an awful household?

    The Doctor spoke with no break. “You are a kind, good, decent person that has a mountain-full of awful experiences, yet you still pay for the person behind you line. You still want to make sure the creatures from an alien planet are alright. You still find the strength to smile.”

    You forced your lips up then, probably in an attempt to make the Doctor feel like what he had said had helped, but you couldn’t keep smiling for long. You broke down.

    “I-I kept those awful habits they taught me. I barely eat. I don’t drink water. The nightmares keep me awake. A couple times, I tried to get help, but I failed their regimes miserably. I’m so broken, Doctor.”

    He was focusing on keeping his breathing under control, but the Doctor told you, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Y/n...Stay with me.”

    “No...”

    “No schedules. No regimes. We won’t even leave the TARDIS while you’re getting better. Please. I want to help you.” The Doctor was begging.

    Your shoulders sagged with a hopeless sigh. “Why do you care about me so much?”

    Slowly ang gently, he reached up to brush your cheek. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I think it has something to do with your smile.”

    It must have been on instinct, because a watery smile flashed across your features. “What do I have to lose?” you eventually inquired rhetorically. “Yeah,” you finally conceded, “Okay.”

    The Doctor couldn’t remember another time that big of a weight was lifted off his chest. It caused him to surge forward and hug you. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” he breathed.

    “Thank you, Doctor,” you returned, “I don’t know if I can do this, but thank you for trying to help.”

    “We can do this,” the Doctor stated, “I’m sure of it.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more Doctor Who fics over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #the doctor #the doctor x reader #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who bbc #your smile #david tennant #companion jones

[from-a-reckless-writer]

here lads have an angsty supercorp soulmate story

It starts exactly 24 hours after Kara’s departure. 

It’s subtle at first. It actually reminds Lena of the first few days after they met. 

The slow but steady build-up of pain manifesting itself into little things; shaky hands, dizzy spells, chest pains. The pills help, of course. She’s already ingested 5 pills in the span of 3 hours and she’s contemplating taking more. Just to keep the pain—threatening to overtake her—at bay. But what good would she be if Alex finds her passed out on the floor? Veins chock-full of narcotics? 

So, she wills her hands to stop shaking and pushes on. She sends a text to Jess to send a shipment of pills to her home address; tells her to be discreet. 

She can do it. She’s done it before. She can fucking do it again. And she will bring Kara home. 

Because every moment that passes with them apart, means a step closer to Lena’s death. 

You might think she’s exaggerating, but really she isn’t. See, Kara’s her soul mate, not just in the figure of speech wax-poetic sense but literally Kara’s her soul mate. 

But her being a Luthor of course, soul mates wouldn’t come easy. None of it had ever been easy. Why would this one be an exception? It wasn’t unheard of, no, there were a few rare cases of it being recorded. Of course, Lena would be one of those people. Why wouldn’t the universe add shitty soul mate luck into the long list of misfortunes in Lena’s life? What’s one more curse, right? 

See, Kara’s her soul mate but...Lena isn’t Kara’s.

“You look like shit, Luthor. You’re allowed to take a break you know?” 

It’s Alex who breaks her out of her reverie. She prays to God that Alex doesn't notice her shaking hands. She’s well aware she looks like shit. She feels like shit, she doesn’t need Alex of all people to point that one out. But now, Lena notices that the whole place is empty, she didn’t even notice J’onn slip out. She didn’t even notice Alex coming in too, really. 

Brainy had long passed-out in one of the beds in the MedBay in the 2nd level of The Tower, Nia taking up the opposite bed. There was a brief moment when she walked in that made her feel tempted to occupy the third bed and take a break. But then, her chest tightened and a flare of pain lit up her whole insides, it was reason enough to keep her feet moving and back unto the computers trying to pinpoint Kara’s location. 

“I know,” she replies, “But it’s really not necessary, Alex. I’ll rest after.” 

She doesn’t need rest, what she needs is Kara to be here. 

She refuses to look at Alex, fingers flying across the screen. Alex shifts closer to her, lays a hand on her right arm prompting her to stop. Her eyes land on Alex's hand and continue up to Alex’s eyes. 

“We’ll find her, Lena. But you have to rest. I’m serious, Luthor. Come on,” Alex persists, wrapping her hand more firmly and tugging at Lena to follow her. 

She doesn’t say that rest will do her more harm than good. She doesn’t say that if she closes her eyes all she would see is Kara’s body floating all alone in space and the pain would start anew.

First, her chest and then travelling up the rest of her body until all there is is pain. 

She doesn’t say that she needs to work in order to distract her from the pain. 

Instead, she holds her tongue, lets Alex bring her to the 2nd level and tries to have the most fitful sleep of her life. 

***

It gets worse on the 5th day of the second week. It really isn’t a surprise considering this is the longest she’s had to go without Kara around. 

She’s taken mega-doses of painkillers in anticipation for today. Last night was a nightmare, she had to bite down on a hand towel as waves of pain assaulted her, again and again and again.

When morning came, it slowly subsided. Once feeling had returned to her legs she ran into the kitchen and swallowed 3 pills immediately. 

It doesn’t matter if she’s taken 3 or 4 or a whole bottle today, because it will just get worse and worse the longer Kara isn’t by her side. 

And so, she drags herself into The Tower again, because she needs to finally find a way to bring her back. 

She tries to ignore the tightening of her chest even though she’s really having a hard time breathing now. Not to mention the pain behind her eyes that is bit by bit making it difficult for her to coordinate with Brainy’s computations. 

She’s taken to keeping a bottle of pills on her person now. Opting to take them dry as if they were mint candies to keep her tongue moving while programming lines of codes. 

She thinks she’s still being subtle. 

Well, she is.

Until she isn’t. 

She crumples to the floor in front of everyone and a guttural scream of pain breaks free from her lips. 

***

When she wakes it’s to Alex sitting by her bedside. 

She lets out a groan in response to the sore feeling of her entire body. It’s like the time they were forced to do team building exercises all day in Mt. Helena and Lena nearly passed out. 

Alex hands her a bottle of water. She sips greedily before handing it back and wiping her mouth. 

“Hey? How you feeling?”

“Like I wanna die.”

Alex sighs and Lena intentionally avoids her eyes. 

“It’s Kara isn’t it?” Alex says and Lena doesn’t bother with lying anymore.

“It is.”

“How you survived almost two weeks away from her, I wouldn’t know. Two days away from Kelly—” Alex breaks off, inhales deeply and then sighs again, “That’s already torture for me.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” She retorts flatly, hands fiddling with the rough edges of the blanket. Alex looks like she wants to say something about that but Lena beats her there. 

“How?” She asks, gesturing to the IV drip. How am I not feeling pain right now? How am I still breathing? How am I still alive?

“The DEO created a special fluid for agents,” Alex reveals, “They distribute it to agents on field assignments. That way, them and their partners don’t die from pain. Good thing, J’onn had a stash hidden here, well, we always thought it would be for me and Kelly. Never expected you, Luthor.”

Lena takes that in for a moment. So, the DEO had a special formula of Dextrose to stave off the pain of soulmate separation and apparently she’s using up all the remaining bags of it. 

And it’s not even supposed to be for her. 

“Don’t worry about it. Brainy can replicate the formula.”

Worry must’ve shown on her face. So, she works on schooling her features again, she knows that Alex is itching to ask her questions but is trying to be polite. 

There’s really no use hiding anything now though. 

“K-Kara’s my soulmate,” she finally says out loud, and she’s always thought that it’s supposed to feel cathartic and freeing but instead it just feels heavy. 

“But I’m not hers,” she quickly finishes, better to rip the band-aid off. She briefly looks at Alex, whose face doesn’t give her anything; mouth a tight line and eyes shining with curiosity. 

She doesn’t know if Alex had ever had a conversation with Kara about soul mates before. Had they talked about it? Had Kara ever mentioned Lena acting too clingy whenever they don’t see each other for a short period of time? Had Kara ever told Alex if she would want a soul mate of her own?

But the look and silence from Alex’s side makes Lena refrain from asking. 

Instead, she starts to tell her how it had hit her the instant Kara walked in her office. How there was a zing! and her brain had immediately screamed HER. That’s the one. She’s the one. 

How when they met eyes and Kara had told her her name it felt like Lena’s soul finally found her home. 

“I asked for her name and I kind of thought she’d wait for me to get out of the office,” Lena trails off and Alex takes it for what it is. 

Their first meeting was all sparks for Lena but then, the conversation kept going and going and Clark had tried interrogating her and Kara didn’t do anything. 

Didn’t approach her afterwards, didn’t show any reaction that might’ve given Lena a clue that she felt the way Lena did. 

A conclusion was easily reached. 

Kara was hers but she wasn’t Kara’s. 

After the initial shock settled in, Lena set to work. Because that was what she did best. Work out a solution to everything and anything that poses a problem. 

How many people have dreamed about meeting their soul mate? How many years had Lena sat there hoping that tomorrow maybe, maybe she’ll finally meet them? She never expected this, never expected her soul to find a home that isn’t hers. 

Staying away from Kara was a non-starter, it’s only been a day since they parted but Lena can already feel the beginnings of pain. Slow but sharp shots of throbbing from behind her eyes then came the shaky hands then the dizziness and then— 

They became friends and Lena made sure Kara didn’t know anything about her growing need to be close to her; didn't let Kara know about the fact that the universe made Lena its most epic punchline yet. 

She agreed to scheduled game nights and movie nights and lunch dates. She never knew the pain of soulmate separation during those early days. Kara was always around; bringing her a salad, covering an L-Corp gala, crashing on Lena’s couch. 

“It was easy, you know? Kara was always there. What are friends for?” Lena mimics Kara and then repeats somberly, “It was easy, Alex.”

Or at least, Lena kept telling herself it was easy. She had it easy. She didn’t have to think about painkiller pills or cutting her business trips short—because the pain becomes unbearable too soon—like so many of her board members do. 

She had it easy with Kara, she can just call and she’ll be there. 

Until, Kara started going MIA. And for three days pain overtook her entire life. The pain made her unable to think clearly, the pills kicking in at the last minute. 

“You haven't been around. Supergirl's been there for me. Person who judges me on the very premise of my last name, but my best friend hasn't,” she accuses because Goddamnit Kara has no idea what kind of shit Lena had to endure with her going away with no warning. 

Logically, Lena knows it’s partly her fault. 

She knows that if she only just told Kara that she needs her to live, Kara would stay. But she doesn’t want anything to change. 

Of course, Kara would stay, it was the kind of thing a person like her would do. 

Kara would take care of her, whatever Lena needed she would give. 

But Lena didn’t want things that way. 

She wants Kara to want her the same way she wants her. 

But no, Lena’s not going to tell her that. She is never going to know. She will find an alternative. So, she injects as much venom as she can into that accusation, “B-but maybe it’s better if I leave.” 

She makes Kara leave. 

She just got her cure back and immediately Lena had pushed her away. The moment Kara stepped out of the door, a dull throb already kicked in her chest; as if telling Lena she was making a big mistake. 

She regretted that night so much, Jess had to drag her drunken body out of her office. 

Then it became normal again and Lena went back to not worrying about body pains again. 

Because a different kind of pain is trying to make itself known. 

A gaping hole in her heart that is entirely unrelated to the biological consequences of being separated from your soul mate. 

She was falling in love. 

She was falling in love and she wasn’t prepared for how it would hurt to have Kara not love her back. She can endure the physical pain, there are pills for that. 

But there wasn’t any type of medication to see your other half everyday and not have them see you as theirs. 

When Lex told her Kara’s secret. Something broke inside of her. Which was saying something, considering she was getting her heart broken every single day that Kara wouldn’t look her way. 

But to know how stupid she’s been? To realize that the flutter of her heart whenever Supergirl was near was her brain telling her it was Kara? 

There was no word for that. 

“I think, I kept rejecting the idea of Supergirl being Kara you know?” Lena huffs out, laughs drily, “Imagine how fucking painful it would be, Alex, if Supergirl was my soul mate. This person who didn’t trust me wholly, who lies behind my back, imagine if she was my soul mate? It would have felt humiliating. My body knew better, though,” she admitted sadly. 

“When Lex told me, all the little painful outbursts every time Supergirl flew away? It made sense. Everything made sense, but at the same time? Everything hurt too.”

She tried hurting her back. Created Hope. Experimented with Q-waves. Foolishly used Myriad. Teamed up with Lex.

But even through all of those? The separation pain never knocked her out. 

Even when they were fighting, Kara was still always around. Even when the world—the fucking multiverse got reset. The pain wasn’t enough to knock her out. Not like today. 

Because Kara was always lingering around convincing her not to join Lex, crossing paths in CatCo, flying into her home even if it was to call her a villain. 

All of those interactions were still sustenance for Lena. 

But this? This separation? This knowledge that Kara was somewhere out there, unreachable. That she could be lightyears away in space and it has been two weeks since Lena had last saw her, it has her every molecule shouting to go find Kara. 

“It’s never been like this before,” Lena confesses, “I thought I could do it without-”

“Help?” Alex supplies and Lena finally turns to her and she feels a hand squeeze her. 

“Yeah.” She mutters back softly. 

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Luthor. You’re part of the team now whether you like it or not. We are going to help you, we’re going to find a temporary solution for that pain and then we’ll get back to work and we’ll find Kara.”

#im thinking if i'll continue this after the 2nd ep but hmm we'll see #anyways hope u liked that little blurb #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #supercorp fic #soul mate au #supercorp #rcklss writes

[atlabeth]

transferred part 17 - atla smau

part 16 | masterlist | part 18 

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know he’s falling for you as well. 

a/n: ahahah a ??? im sorry?? that this took so long?? as you know ive been dying of school and exams and even though ive gotten a couple oneshots out and did my celebration i just have not had the energy to write a whole mf chapter. but it’s here ! after a month of waiting

wc: 4.8k she is a LONG ONE FOLKS prepare yourselves

warning(s): cursing, alcohol and getting drunk, toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, implied emotional abuse, y/n having a breakdown, just an overall mess 

-

“Katara, don’t pull so hard!” You exclaimed, reaching a hand up to touch your scalp. You had entrusted your sister with styling your hair for the party tonight, but only after insistent nagging on her part. She had invited — or forced, as you liked to call it — you over to their dorm to get ready for the party that night together and do all kinds of girl talk. You figured this was a trap to get you to talk about you and Zuko, but it’s not like you would deny an opportunity to hang out with some of your favorite girls. 

“Sorry,” she chuckled. “Just think of it as retribution for all the times that you pulled my hair like this when you did my braids.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and glanced over at Toph and Suki who had already gotten ready but still lounging around the dorm to hang out. “So.” 

“So?” Suki repeated. 

“So when are the questions going to start?” You asked with a small laugh. “I appreciate the invite over here to get ready, but I know you all just wanted to ask me about what’s going with Zuko. So ask away.”

“What happened during that car ride—”

“Has he said anything to you since the kiss—”

“What’s going on at the tea shop—”

“Woah, woah! One question at a time!” you interrupted as they all started going on at the same time. “First off, nothing happened during the car ride. We worked out some miscommunications, and we’re all good. Second — yes, we’ve talked since the kiss, but there’s been nothing groundbreaking. And third, the only thing going on at the tea shop is the tea that we’re serving.”

Toph groaned and shook her head. “Are you serious? That’s so boring!”

“You’re telling me that nothing has happened in the couple of weeks since the kiss? Like, are you sure you’re not in a secret relationship with him and just neglecting to tell us?” Katara asked.

“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted. “As much as I want something to go on, I… haven't’ really said anything either.”

“What?” Suki cried. “You are crazy for him, how have you not tried to make something out of this yet?!”

“I don’t know!” you shot back defensively. “I guess I’m just scared that everything will go wrong.”

“Look,” Suki began as she took a seat on the floor in front of you. “You are kind, funny, gorgeous as hell, and an all around amazing person — and Zuko has it just as bad for you as you do for him! So embrace all of that, get out there tonight, and make a move!”

It had been too long since you had gotten a pep talk from Suki, and it was strangely refreshing. You nodded and sat up. “You know, you’re right! I have just… I’ve been sitting around, waiting for him to make a move because I’m too scared of getting rejected. But I am a delight! I am a lovely person, and I am a delight. Besides, we’re both adults! Even if he doesn’t like me the same way I do—”

“Which he does,” Toph interrupted, which earned her a joking glare.

“Even if he doesn’t like me the same way I do,” you repeated. “We’re still going to be friends. It’ll just be a couple awkward weeks, and then we’ll be back to normal.”

“That’s as close to the spirit as we’re gonna get!” Katara exclaimed as she gave you a high-five.

“It’s about time,” Toph joked as she hit you on the shoulder. “Now, are you gonna get ready or what?”

“Right,” you chuckled. “I did get this super cute dress a while ago that I haven’t gotten a chance to wear. I think it’ll be perfect for tonight.”

“What are you waiting for, girl?” Suki asked. “Show us!”

After showing off your dress, you had finished up the final touches of your makeup and gotten one last pep talk from all of your girls — you were feeling more confident than ever, and you were sure that tonight was the night you would tell Zuko how you felt.

-

Back at the apartment, the boys were going through a similar dilemma.

“Zuko, what are you so scared about?” Sokka was hanging upside down off of the couch, a move he must’ve picked up from his sister, as he questioned his friend.

“I don’t know, everything? She could reject me, she could start to hate me, I could ruin everything that we’ve built over the past few months— you know, it’s not even that bad, what we have right now! What’s the harm in just staying like this?”

“Zuko,” Aang groaned. “I get being cautious, but this is just too much! You’re letting your fears get in the way of you and Y/N being happy. You kissed her, right? And she kissed you back! I’m telling you, if you let her know how you feel tonight then everything will work out. Trust me!”

“Seriously, buddy — it’s just painful at this point. It’ll be kinda weird having one of my friends date my sister again, but somehow, you two being apart is worse. Just tell her already!”

“Okay!” Zuko exclaimed defensively. He finished doing his hair then ran his fingers through it, ruining his work completely. When Sokka gave him a weird look, he shrugged and smiled to himself a bit. “Y/N likes it this way.”

Sokka gestured at him in disbelief and shook his head. “This is exactly what I mean!”

“Okay!” he repeated. Zuko leaned against the kitchen island and nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell her how I feel tonight. After she’s gotten into the party a little, I’ll take her outside and I’ll tell her how I feel.”

“And then you’ll kiss and it’ll be happily ever after!” Aang crooned.

Sokka rolled off of the sofa and stood up, then picked up the car keys from the table. “Someone text the girls, because we’re leaving. I can’t deal with this anymore.”

“You’re gonna do great tonight, Zuko,” Aang reassured as he gave Zuko a pat on the back. “Just remember why you like her in the first place, and speak from the heart. She likes you, so as long as you’re you, things will go great.”

Zuko nodded and gave Aang a small smile. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.”

As the two of them followed Sokka out of the apartment, he took another deep breath and tried to psych himself up. He was sure that tonight was the night he would tell you how he felt.

-

The seven of you regrouped with each other where you would be spending the rest of the night — because a ton of students were expected to celebrate the end of the first semester, the party was being hosted in a warehouse that a couple of kids had rented out for the night. It was more extravagant than the first party you went to in every way — you could hear the music thumping from all the way down the street as you got out of the car.

“Do you think we beat them here?” Suki asked as she helped Toph out. Katara locked the car and looked around, shaking her head as she pointed down the street. Sokka, Aang, and Zuko were all walking up together, having parked a couple cars down.

“They beat us by a minute. Probably broke a hundred different traffic laws in the process.”

“You guys made it!” Aang exclaimed as he gave Katara a kiss on the cheek. “Sokka forced Zuko to let him drive here, said he’s too slow and that he wanted to beat you all.”

“Sounds like him,” Suki joked as she took Sokka’s hand. “You ready, Big Shot?”

“I’m always ready,” he grinned, earning a laugh from you and Katara. Your eyes fell on Zuko as he walked up and you smiled, already starting to feel your cheeks heating up.

“Wow, Y/N, you look…”

“Amazing?” you guessed coyly.

“Breathtaking,” he clarified, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips. You laughed and looped your arm through his, and the two of you began making your way towards the party.

The rest of the group shot each other looks that ranged from overjoyed to bewildered to confused. As they started to follow you, they realized that getting the two of you together might be easier than they thought.

-

It wasn’t hard to get into the spirit of the night once you got into the party. There had to be at least a couple hundred people there, but it didn’t take long for everyone to start breaking off into groups. Suki had roped you in karaoke while Aang had taken Zuko to meet some of his friends, giving Sokka, Katara, and Toph time to strategize before setting the plan in motion.

“Okay!” Katara shouted so she could be heard over all the noise. “I don’t think we’re actually gonna have to do that much tonight! Just.. keep him busy for a while and then give him an out, and we’ll do the same with Y/N!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the whole plan. I made it up, remember?” Sokka wasn’t completely focused on the conversation at hand as his eyes darted around the scene, seemingly searching for something. His eyes suddenly lit up and he started to back away from their small group. “There he is! Sorry Katara, gotta go prove to a bunch of freshmen that they don’t know anything and I’m better than them. Aang can handle Zuko!” He grinned at her then ran off into the crowd before Katara could protest.

She sighed and turned to Toph. “Suki’s got Y/N occupied and Aang’s got Zuko, so it looks like it’s just you and me, Beifong. Whaddya wanna do?”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to see your sister embarrass herself with karaoke?” Toph asked.

Katara laughed and grabbed Toph’s hand as she started to lead them through the crowd. “You know what? That sounds perfect. After all the work we’ve done for her and Zuko, I think I deserve to laugh at her for a while.”

-

The first two hours of the party passed by quickly. You spent the first thirty minutes making a fool of yourself with Suki as you sang a couple classics on karaoke — though it was a bit humiliating, you had an amazing time. The second half of the hour went to the beer pong competition that Sokka’s friend Zhen had organized (they did end up winning, so you supposed his pride was well earned), and the next hour was dedicated to dancing, drinking, and letting loose. You had finished the first semester of your masters program, so you felt like you deserved it.

You had stolen away to an emptier corner to give yourself a breather as well as some alone time — you were enjoying yourself, but it was close to claustrophobic in the heat of it all. You were passing the time on your phone when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Your eyes immediately shot up as you tucked your phone into your purse, and you were met with your favorite pair of golden eyes.

“Hey,” Zuko breathed, taking a second to straighten his ruffled clothes. You couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips as you ran a hand through his hair to muss it up even further.

“Hey yourself,” you laughed. “What’s so important that you had to run all the way over here?”

“I have something I need to tell you. It actually is really important, but I think it’d go over better if we weren’t in the middle of all this chaos.”

You would be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart beat a little faster, and as you felt your cheeks heat up you realized that this was your chance. “Uh, yeah. Sure, totally— I actually have something I need to tell you, so that’s perfect!”

“Really?”

“Guess we’re just in tune.”

Zuko smiled as he took your hand and started to lead you through the crowd, but when you heard someone calling your name you froze. The blood in your veins turned to ice, and your grip on Zuko’s hand tightened. He shot you a questioning look but you didn’t even see it.

“No,” you muttered, barely legible. “No, not here.”

You almost didn’t want to turn around to confirm your suspicions. You could’ve ignored it, pretended like you didn’t hear it over the sounds of the party, but there was a voice nagging in your head that you couldn’t just ignore it, you had to find out if he was really, truly here — so you did.

You wanted nothing more to be wrong in that moment — honestly, you thought that you were hallucinating at first. You hadn’t had that much to drink, but maybe the alcohol combined with the sleep deprivation was making you see things. Unfortunately, it was real. You could never forget those eyes.

“Hahn,” you mumbled, the sight taking a moment to register. “Hahn, what the hell are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to party, and I’m here to see you.” The grin on his face didn’t waver as he looked you up and down, choosing to ignore the blatant shock on your face.

“You are not here to see me,” you clarified coolly. “We’re not together anymore, and ex-boyfriends don’t make hour-long drives to see their ex-girlfriends, especially ex-girlfriends that they treated like trash.”

“I figured you’d be more happy to see me than this,” he huffed. “Ungrateful as usual.” Hahn seemed to finally notice Zuko and scoffed as he looked at him. “What, is he your new boyfriend? You really downgraded.”

“You have no right to talk to her like that—” Zuko stepped forward to say more but you held out your hand to stop him. You gave him a short nod and stepped forward yourself.

“Hahn, I’m going to ask you one more time.” You could feel your hands shaking, whether it was from rage or fear you didn’t know. Your voice was deadly calm, but it was taking all of your energy to stay that way. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Hahn laughed and crossed his arms. “You’re joking right?” His amusement was a notion that you didn’t share, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably before he continued. “You wouldn’t answer my texts, and you obviously still want me after the things you sent me. My brother had a game here and I came along to see him, so I figured I would pay you a visit as well. You never really officially broke up with me, y’know. Are you really going to let three years go down the drain because of one little incident?”

Now it was your turn to laugh — it was from pure disbelief rather than amusement, though. “Are you serious? Hahn, I left you! I walked out, I moved out, I transferred universities to get away from you! Are you really so dense that you still think you stand a chance based off of some drunk texts?”

“Woah, you think you’re giving me a chance? Y/N/N, this is my olive branch to you — I messed up, I know I did, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fix things up! I could have any girl I wanted back at Kyoshi, but I’m here because I want you — I love you, babe. You know I do.”

“You don’t get to call her ‘babe’,” Zuko snapped. “She doesn’t want you here, so why don’t you just save yourself some trouble and get out of here?”

Hahn snorted and shook his head. “Stay out of this, fireboy. Y/N’s a big girl, she can speak for herself.”

You looked around and saw that a modest crowd was forming around the three of you, and more than a few people were filming. If you didn’t want your relationship problems to become BSSU news, you had to defuse this as soon as possible.

“Listen,” you interrupted. “Zuko’s right, Hahn. It was a mistake to come here — if you’re as smart as you always say, then you would know that. Just.. go home.”

Hahn scoffed as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “No, you listen. I’m trying to do you a favor here, Y/N! I made one mistake, and apparently that was enough to ruin everything we had.”

“You know just as well as I do that it wasn’t one mistake!” you cried. “If you can really get any other girl you want, then do it! I mean, that wasn’t a problem for you during our relationship, so I don’t see why it’s a problem now. We’re not getting back together, so just stop!”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he sneered as he gave Zuko another onceover. “He’s the reason you’re acting like this. I never thought that you would sink so low, but you’ve clearly gone soft. Come on, stop acting like a baby and we can talk this out alone.”

He started to reach for your hand but you pulled it back, and before you knew what you were doing, you had handed your drink to Zuko and your fist was flying right at Hahn’s face. It hurt like hell, but the pure satisfaction from seeing his shock as he recoiled was a painkiller on its own.

“How’s that for soft?” you spat as you rubbed your injured knuckles.

“You.. you bitch!” he yelled, staggering back a few feet as he put his hand over his nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “This is how you repay me after everything? You should be thankful I’m giving you another chance—” he started to reach for you again, but you slapped his hand away. You cast a glance back at Zuko and saw that he had been joined by Sokka and Katara, and knowing that they were with you made all the difference.

“I don’t want another chance!” you shouted. “You are the one that fucked up, you are the one that made my life hell, and you are not the one that gets to give out second chances! I gave you so many chances, and you messed up every single one! Hahn, I never want to see you again. And if you ever try something like this again, if you ever even try and talk to me again, I will do something so much worse. Now do the smart thing and get out!”

You gave him one hard shove to the chest then turned on your heel and ran. It was the coward’s move, you knew it was, but you couldn’t be there anymore. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed through the crowd to get to the back door, heaving shaky breaths once you finally made it outside. You could hear familiar voices yelling and felt the slightest tinge of joy knowing that your younger siblings were giving Hahn hell.

You leaned against the side of the building, pressing the heels of your hands against your forehead to try and stop yourself from having a full on breakdown. You started to count backwards from twenty in your head as your eyes scanned the area for something, anything, to ground you. It helped in the sense that you weren’t about to lose it right then and there, but you were still on the brink. You slid down the wall into a sitting position and hugged your knees to your chest, the tears finally falling.

This was your university, this was your night, this was for you to make new memories and end your first semester, but like everything else he had come in and ruined it. You had no idea how he even found you, how he knew you would even be here, but it scared you.

“Should’ve blocked you as soon as you… fucking asshole… can’t believe..” you mumbled incoherently as you pulled your phone out with shaky hands, blocking and deleting his number. You dropped your phone in your lap and then put your head in your hands, still trying to process everything that happened. You didn’t even look up when you heard someone coming outside, but somehow you immediately knew who it was.

“Hey, Y/N.. Are you.. okay?” Zuko’s voice was full of sympathy but also caution, as if you were a delicate flower you didn’t want to tear.

“Do I look okay, Zuko?” Your words came out much more aggressive than you wanted them to, and you bit your lip. You had always expected his kindness to be a double-edged sword, something he used just to get something from you, but it never was. Not even once. It made sense after what he told you, and it just made him an even better person in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just.. not. Not in the slightest. Hahn was the last person I expected to see tonight.”

Zuko moved over and sat down against the wall with you then hovered his hand above yours, giving you a chance to pull away. When you didn’t move, he set his hand on yours, filling you with the comforting warmth that you missed.

“You don’t need to apologize. What he did was fucked up.” He cracked a small smile. “Punching him was pretty badass though.”

You wiped a tear away and let out a soft laugh. “It was about time I stood up for myself. Our whole relationship was built off of this sick power dynamic that he loved to wield over me. Things were fine for the first few months, of course. He had this douchebag reputation on campus, but I believed that I could change him, that I could be the one to make him settle down, and— and it felt like I had at first! He was the sweetest guy, and he always brought me things and took me out on dates and it was just- it was just a dream. But I should’ve known he was using me. He had never changed, he had just gotten better at hiding those parts of himself.”

“I had zero sense of self worth and he used that. Told me that if I broke up with him I would never find anyone better, always convincing me that I was the one in the wrong, that if I wasn’t so dramatic then we wouldn’t have all these arguments. And the worst thing about it? I believed him. I believed him every time.” Your voice cracked on your last sentence and you could feel yourself getting choked up again. You swallowed hard and tried your best to push your emotions back down. “I was so terrified that he was right, that I would end up alone if I broke up with him, that I stayed. And that was our relationship for the past three years — built off of fear and manipulation.”

“A lot of people wonder why I transferred here. Sure, I did it for my masters, but Kyoshi has a perfectly fine program. I had already established my life there, I had an apartment, lots of friends, and yeah, I was going to go through with it. I was going to get my masters back there, but I… I did it because of him. I left because of Hahn.”

“Y/N. What did he do?” There was a dangerous undertone to his words, and you placed your intertwined hands on his knee. You didn’t want him to do something he would regret, and more selfishly, you needed him here right now.

You closed your eyes and let the question hang in the air for a moment. You hadn’t told anyone the truth of how your relationship ended with Hahn, and this wasn’t how you had pictured telling Zuko. If you were being honest, you didn’t think you would ever tell him — but he deserved to know.

“He cheated.” You said the words so easily, so simply that you almost shocked yourself. It shocked Zuko too; you could see his eyes widen slightly from your peripherals.

“Yeah. He cheated on me. That’s how things ended. After everything I put into that relationship, everything I did for him, everything he took from me… I still wasn’t enough for him. I got home from class one day to find him in bed with another girl, and… that was it. Something inside me just snapped. That was my moment of clarity — no yelling, no crying, no… anything. I just left. A friend let me crash at her place, and that night I started the process of transferring here. I made a promise to myself that I would never let someone like Hahn in again, and… well, now we’re here.” You laughed humorlessly and wiped a tear from your eye.

It was like the breath had been stolen from Zuko’s chest. He had never fully understood why you were so reluctant to open up to people, but this explained it. You weren’t someone who gave out love freely, but you had to Hahn — and the way he had treated that love made him sick. He had ingrained in you the ideal that you couldn’t be loved, only tolerated, and that was why you had such a hard time accepting help from anyone. The thought alone made him want to find Hahn and get him back for everything he had done to you. The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to leave you alone.

“Y/N,” he muttered. “I had no idea. Katara and Sokka didn’t even know.. Why did you hold all of this in?”

“Because I was scared, Zuko! I got myself into this mess with a stupid boy that everyone had warned me about, so I felt like I had to get myself out. Even when things took a turn for the worse, I felt like I couldn’t involve anyone else because it was my fault. It was my fault for trusting someone like him, it was my fault for believing all of his lies, it was my fault for not being good enough. And even after everything he did to me, a part of me still missed him.” You let out a laugh that was a touch unhinged. “There’s something seriously wrong with me.”

“Y/N, look at me.” You tore your eyes up from the ground and at Zuko — his golden irises looked the same as the first time you met him and it was oddly comforting.

“There is nothing wrong with you. Okay? And I know it’s easier said than done, believe me, I know, but you don’t need to be scared. I understand why you were so hesitant to share what happened with Hahn, but you don’t need to be. I don’t know how much weight my words have, but I want you to know that you can always tell me what is happening with you. Whether it’s a life changing event or just what you did that morning, I’ll listen to you. You aren’t alone, Y/N, because I’m here for you. I always will be.”

Your eyes widened with surprise as you stared into his own. This was the most sincere you had ever seen Zuko, even more than the night he told you about his life. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to kiss him, feel that warmth again, forget about what had happened for just a moment.

But as the familiar prick of incoming tears returned, you knew you couldn’t. You were drunk, on the verge of a complete breakdown, and anything that happened between you tonight would be tainted with the memory of Hahn. So with a concentrated effort, you tore your eyes away from his and swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy from the screaming match you had gotten yourself into.

“I don’t think I can spend another minute here. I hate to ask, but.. can you take me home?” you asked quietly. “You might not be able to tell, but I’m not in a state to do anything right now.”

“Of course.” You gave his hand another squeeze to let him know that he hadn’t overstepped, and stood up. The two of you began the walk back to the car and Zuko let go of your hand, shifting so that he could instead wrap his arm around your back. You smiled softly and leaned your head against his shoulder, the gesture a welcome comfort.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He squeezed your shoulder softly in response, a silent notion that said everything he couldn’t.

Tonight had been a wreck, that much was certain. Your past had resurged in the most painful way possible, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get through it alone.

But you weren’t alone this time. You had Zuko.

And with Zuko by your side… you knew you would be okay.

-

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#zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #atla smau #zuko smau #avatar #atla #zuko #social media au #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #avatar x reader #zuko fic #zuko atla #zuko avatar

[agustdakasuga]

A Place Called Home | Chapter 4

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

You try to visit Taehyung as much as you can, wanting him to be home with you as quickly as possible, but suddenly, your own exhaustion catches up with you, causing you to stay home. But at the same time, a certain wolf begins to show signs of consciousness

After you finished visiting Taehyung, you headed back home. Hospital shifts were getting longer and going to visit Taehyung afterwards was taking a toll on you. You were getting burned out. 

“Jagi?” Jin came down the stairs. You shot him a tired smile but your legs slowly gave out. Luckily Jin had quick reflexes and was able to catch you in time. His eyes widened in panic as he scooped you up into his arms, bringing you to the couch. 

“Jagi? Can you hear me?” He asked worriedly. You let out a soft hum. Bringing his hand to your head, he felt your slightly raised temperature. 

“You’re having a fever, jagi. Wait here.” Jin left you to go get a thermometer. The front door opened, signalling Yoongi’s return to the house. Your vision blurred slightly, eyes opening and closing. 

“Kitten!” Yoongi saw your state and rushed to your side. 

“You’re sick.” He frowned. 

“I’m fine.” You smiled. Jin came back with a thermometer and some fever medication. He placed the stick into your mouth and waited. The moment there was a beep, Yoongi took it out. He frowned when he read the temperature. You were definitely sick, he didn’t need a thermometer to tell him that. He could smell it from you the moment he walked in. 

“I just need to sleep.” You sat up. 

“Kitten, you’re not fine! I told you not to over exhaust yourself. Let’s bring her to the hospital for an IV.” Yoongi told Jin, who nodded in agreement. You protested but Jin was already carrying you up, Yoongi grabbed the car keys. 

“You’re over reacting.” You chuckled. 

“No, that’s what you get for not taking care of yourself. You’re not superwoman, jagi.” Jin frowned. You pouted but snuggled into Jin for warmth as you shivered slightly. 

“Dr (y/l/n)?” Head nurse Park was shocked to see your hybrids carrying you in. She signalled to the others to bring a gurney in. Two other nurses hurried over, letting Jin put you down on the bed. He laid his cardigan over you as you shivered from the lost of his body heart.

“She’s sick and slowly losing consciousness. Can we get her an IV?” Yoongi asked. 

“Of course. Follow us.” She told the worried boys as the nurses wheeled you to a private room. You didn’t even make it to the room conscious. On the way there, your eyes closed and you slowly slipped into darkness. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The constant beeping woke you up. You frowned, annoyed by the sound before opening your eyes. Looking around, you remembered that you were checked into the hospital by Yoongi and Jin, having passed out from exhaustion. Yoongi was sleeping next to you, head buried in his folded arms as he held your hand. Jin was curled up on the small couch, a blanket over him. 

“My boys.” You stroked Yoongi’s head, waking him up. He yawned and stretched his limbs. 

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“I’m fine, Yoongi. Sorry to worry you two.” You smiled, continuing to stroke his head, his furry ears between your fingers. 

“You better be sorry. I told you to take care of yourself and not over work yourself. You do everything on your own without letting me and Jin hyung help you. And look what happened, (y/n).” Yoongi frowned, crossing his arms. He was really upset with you. 

“I know, Yoongi. I’m sorry.” You apologised again. Yoongi looked at your guilt ridden face and sighed, leaning in to nuzzle your neck. You combed your fingers through his hair, making him purr in satisfaction. 

“Jagi?” Jin sat up from his couch, rubbing his eyes as he let out a big yawn. You smiled, opening your other arm. Jin shuffled over, pressing his face into the other side of your neck. 

“Head nurse Park is never going to let this go.” You groaned. 

“Good. I hope she constantly reminds you of this.” Yoongi smirked, making you shove his shoulder. 

“Doc?” Speak of the devil, head nurse Park came in, making the two boys pull away from you. Their eyes trained on the older lady. She held your file in her hand, frowning at you and shaking your head. You let out a whine, making your two hybrids smile in triumph.

“Dr (y/l/n), you’re lucky you had your hybrids at home to bring you here. I am always telling you that yes, hybrids’ health are important and I know you want to help them but your health should be the first priority.” She lectured.

“Yes, head nurse Park.” You pouted. 

“Anyway, I don’t come with good news for you. Your labs came back and your blood count is low. You’re anaemic so we’ll have to keep your here for another day.” She informed. 

“Noooooo!” You fake cried. 

“Ha! Good for you!” Jin crossed his arms, reaching over to hi five Yoongi. You glared at them. 

“Wait, is there any cause for her anaemia?” Yoongi stood up. 

“Not for sure. Could be exhaustion, missing meals, anything.” Head nurse Park shrugged. As she listed the reasons, Yoongi turned around and shot you the dirtiest glare ever, making you whimper and shrink back. Despite being a doctor, you were the worse patient. You didn’t want to stay in the hospital, you wanted to go home. 

“If you promise not to do anything strenuous, you can go home.” Nurse Park said. 

“You can count on that, I have two wardens at home that will watch me.” You side eyed the two hybrids that stood on either side of you. 

“Alright. I’ll bring your discharge papers. Also, director wanted you to take a week off. She wanted to make sure that you’re in good health before you come back.” She informed. 

“A WEEK?!” Your thoughts immediately went to the wolf hybrid that was still in the intensive care unit. You had to find a way to still check on him even if you were not allowed to return to the hospital. But nonetheless, you nodded your head and signed your discharge papers. 

“Can I just stop by to see how he is?” You asked Yoongi before you could leave. He looked at Seokjin before the two of them nodded, following you to the ICU ward. 

‘Kim Namjoon’

You could finally put a name on the patient name plate on the door. You knocked lightly before going in. Thanks to his hybrid wolf side, his healing was a lot faster than others. His superficial injuries was mostly gone, making it seem like he was just sleeping. 

“He should wake up soon. It’s not good for him to be under for so long. But I guess he’ll have to hang on for another week.” You sighed. 

“We should go.” Yoongi came to you. You nodded and followed your boys out. Just as the door closed, there was a crash from the room. You met eyes with Yoongi and rushed back in. 

“Stay back!” Namjoon growled, showing his canines. 

“Okay, I’ll stay back Namjoon. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You held your hands out. 

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” His back was hunched, tail rigid. He was in attack mode and you knew better than to try and provoke him. Yoongi stayed by you while you motioned for Seokjin to leave and get the nurses in here. Namjoon’s eyes shifted from you to Yoongi, trying to yank out the tubes and machines that were attached to him. 

“Namjoon, let her help you. You’ll do more harm trying to remove that yourself.” Yoongi spoke. 

“Yoongi? Min Yoongi?” Namjoon stared at him. Yoongi nodded his head. 

“I thought you were dead.” Namjoon scoffed. 

“I would be if it weren’t for her. Same for you. Come on, we’re brothers. You can trust me. She won’t hurt you. She just wants to help, she’s a doctor.” Yoongi persuaded. Namjoon glared at you but nodded. Yoongi’s tailed curled around your waist, seeing how shaken you were. 

“I’m fine.” You forced a smile. With shaky hands, you proceeded to remove all the machinery and IV needles from Namjoon’s body before stepping back. 

“What happened to you?” Namjoon asked Yoongi. 

“They left me for dead. She isn’t like those humans that we encountered, trust me. After she saved me and nursed me back to health, I let her become my owner.” Yoongi explained. 

“You’ve become domesticated?” 

“Beats being injected with steroids and hormones then thrown in a cage to fight to death.” Yoongi shrugged. You winced at his statement, hating illegal hybrid rings. Yoongi held your hand, squeezing it to help you breathe and remain calm. The door behind you opened and Namjoon immediately got on defence again. 

“Director!” You bowed. From the way your addressed her, Yoongi guessed that this lady was your boss. 

“How are you feeling, dear?” She asked. 

“I’m fine, madam. Please don’t worry.” You bowed your head.

“Good job taking care of Namjoon while he was recovering. He looks mostly recovered. I read your permission request. Considering that Namjoon is awake and your hybrid does know him, I will grant you permission to let him continued recovering from your home.” She nodded her head.

“Thank you!” You smiled and Yoongi let out a sigh of relief. Namjoon frowned at the director’s words. 

“Did anyone ask me what I wanted to do? For all I know, you could keep me at your house for your own illegal business.” Namjoon scowled. 

“Of course we will take your opinion into consideration, Namjoon. If you’re not comfortable with Ms (y/l/n) and her hybrids at her home, we can send you to a shelter. Unfortunately, you cannot leave yet as you have not fully recovered. You just woke up from a two week coma, we will need to monitor you closely.” The director said. 

“Fine. I’ll go.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you-”

“I’m not saying I trust you or anything. But seeing as Yoongi is there and shelters are too noisy, it’s choosing which hell is worse.” Namjoon glared. Yoongi hissed slightly, not happy with Namjoon attitude towards you. 

“It’s okay. Let’s go, hmm?” You put a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, feeling a wave of giddiness. Yoongi and Seokjin must have sensed this because Seokjin proceeded to put his arm around you to steady you. You just had to do some quick paper work and get Namjoon’s file. The nurse put it in a dark blue folder with yellow crescent moons on it.

“This is your room." You brought him up the stairs. Namjoon peaked into the room. 

“I have my own room already?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course, you’re entitled to your own privacy here. And I already prepared it because Yoongi asked if you could stay here when you woke up so I just got it ready for whenever. I’m sorry if it’s not to your liking. We can go shopping to get what you need.” You nodded. 

“Why are you doing this?” Namjoon asked. 

“Huh?” You looked up at him. 

“Nothing.” He shook his head. You shrugged and heard Yoongi calling for you to head to bed so you could begin your week long rest. 

“Alright! You’re such a nag, Min Yoongi!” You shouted before smiling at Namjoon. 

“It’s Seokjin’s turn to cook dinner so until then, you can do what you want.” You gave him another smile before bowing your head and walking away. Namjoon closed the door to his room and shook his head, a human has never smiled at him before. Yet, you bowed your head and are providing him food and a place to stay until he recovered. 

“What a peculiar human.” He scoffed and went to take a shower. Namjoon was woken up from his nap by arguing downstairs. 

“You guys will wake Namjoon.” You frowned. Namjoon stood at the top of the staircase, listening and watching. 

“We’re just asking that you rest one day, snowflake.” Jin shook his head. Yoongi was sitting on the other end of the couch, arms folded, a frown on his face. He was not happy, he was very ticked off. 

“I need to see him. He’s alone with his captor possibly in the next room. He’s scared.” You said. 

“Do you think it would make him feel better if you go visit him and collapse right in front of him? You can always go tomorrow, kitten.” Yoongi sighed. You wanted to go see Taehyung like you did everyday but of course, considering the events from today, the two hybrids didn’t want to let you go. 

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Coming.” You stood up and went to open. Even Namjoon perked up when he heard you unlocking the front door. 

“Good evening, madam. I’m here to send your hybrid home.” The officer said, looking bored as hell. Beside him, Taehyung stood there, with a collar around his neck and leash was hooked on, which the officer was carrying. You frowned at that. Who still put hybrids on leashes? They are people!

“Taehyung.” You called and he looked up, eyes watery as he leapt into your arms. 

“Why was he on a leash?” 

“He’s a wild animal, madam.” The officer reasoned. 

“You have no right to call him that. He didn’t commit any crime. He was called in as a witness. I don’t see you doing this to other witnesses.” You glared at him. The police were supposed to be protecting everyone, hybrid or not. You were disgusted with this man. 

“Madam, it’s a small issue. He’s already back here, isn’t he?” He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m reporting this to officer Jooyeon. I will not let this go.” You saw the small officer’s face pale slightly as pulled Taehyung with you, slamming the door in his face. You were angry but your priority now was a shaken Taehyung. 

“(y/n)...” He whimpered as you sat down on the couch, keeping your arms around him. He buried his face into your neck. 

“It’s alright, baby. You’re home. I’m sorry you even had to go through a second of that. That was wrong.” You hushed him, stroking the space between his ears. From the posture of Seokjin and Yoongi, you knew that they were angry too. Leashes and collars were downgrading. The government had already said there was no need to leash hybrids. 

“Are you hungry? Jin cooked.” You asked. 

“Yeah...” He nodded. You smiled and held his hand, bringing him to the kitchen. Jin gave Taehyung a hug while Yoongi ruffled his hair. Taehyung gave them a small smile. You were happy at their attempts to comfort him.

“Stranger.” Taehyung’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, Namjoon. You’re here. This is Taehyung, we’re fostering him. Taetae, this is Namjoon. He’s friends with Yoongi and he’ll be staying with us as he recovers.” You explained. The two gave each other acknowledging nods. Namjoon sat next to Yoongi.

“Here. More red meat and greens for your iron deficiency.” Jin slid the plate over to you. You pouted, nodding. 

“You’re sick? No wonder you smelled different.” Taehyung held your hand worriedly. 

“I’m fine. You know these two over react.” You chuckled. As always, Yoongi took your plate and sliced your steak for you. You grinned and knocked foreheads with him, beginning to eat. It was way too much that you tried to sneak some to Taehyung. 

“Ahem.” Yoongi cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at you. Taehyung blinked in confusion, not even noticing that extra meat had been added. Your cheeks turned red. 

“I didn’t give you more steak for you to give it all to Tae. You need to eat more, snowflake.” Jin frowned, proceeding to give you some of his steak. After dinner, everyone helped with clearing up, except Jin, who cooked. The boys had only let you wiped the table. 

“I’m heading into the backyard with Namjoon for a walk.” Yoongi wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. 

“Namjoon, is it okay if I look at your injuries? I just want to make sure there is no infection.” You asked. Namjoon stiffened at your question, he was obviously still guarded around you. 

“Fine. Yoongi.” He looked at the panther. You all went up to Namjoon’s room and he lifted his shirt, showing you the main abdominal scar where the life ending cut was meant to be. Seeing the faint line where the stitches was, Yoongi hissed, remembering his own scar that was there but now faded. He looked away, tail curling itself around your ankle. 

“It’s looking good. No sign of infection.” You smiled when you finished checking his other injuries. 

“Let’s go.” Namjoon said to Yoongi and they left. You went back to your room, seeing Taehyung stand by the door to wait for you. The hybrids knew you didn’t really like them going in when you weren’t in there. 

“Come on.” You led him into the room and went to shower. He waited for you in bed, having already showered. When you came out, however, you went to see Jin first. 

“Goodnight Jinnie.” You smiled, entering his cold room. 

“Goodnight, snowflake.” He kissed your cheek and nuzzled it. As you left, you turned off the lights and headed back to Taehyung. Taehyung almost pounced on you when you returned. You laid in bed and he was quick to attach himself to you, purring as you massaged his scalp.

“Tell me why you’re sick.” Taehyung said. 

“I’m not sick, Tae. Don’t worry. I was just careless and didn’t take care of myself, as I should be. The doctor just said I needed to eat better and rest more. So I’ll be home the whole week.” You sighed as you informed. 

“So you’ll be with me the whole week?!” He perked up, a smile finally appearing on his face. 

“Yes. My boss forced me to take a week off. Besides, Namjoon is here so I don’t have to worry as much. He woke up just as I was leaving the hospital this morning. Call it fate, I guess.” You giggled. 

“I miss you and the hyungs so much while I was there. I missed your cuddles, Jin hyung’s cooking and Yoongi hyung’s explanations of basketball, even though I don’t even have an interest in basketball.” He said and you couldn’t help but smile softly. Taehyung was integrating well into your family, much faster than you even expected. 

“I’m glad to hear you like it here, Tae.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I know Yoongi doesn’t really show it but he also cares for you. He’s just guarded, you know?” You stroked his ears. 

“I know. Yoongi hyung helped me with my nightmares. He promised me I would never have to go back, like you.” He said. You were a little surprised, not knowing that Yoongi did such a nice thing for Taehyung but you expected it. Yoongi was nice, even if he doesn’t like you saying that he has a soft heart. 

“(y/n)?” Taehyung called. You hummed in reply. 

“Can I...” He stopped halfway, making you look at him. You noticed that his human ears and cheeks were red. 

“Scent me?” You completely with a laugh. He nodded like a child that was caught doing something bad. 

“Come here.” You gestured as you nodded. Taehyung cautiously moved to press his face into your neck. You gently caressed the back of his neck. He purred lightly, his orange and black tail curling itself around your thigh as his hands squeezed your waist lightly. Slowly, he moved to nuzzle your cheek like a a house cat would. 

“You smell like me.” He blushed as he pulled away, resting his head against your chest comfortably. 

“Goodnight, Tae.” 

“Goodnight, (y/n).” He pressed his lips against your forehead before the both of you fell asleep.

#kpop #kpop series #kpop scenarios #bts #bts series #bts scenarios #bts hybrid #bts hybrid series #bts hybrid au #hybrid!au #hybrid bts #hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts x reader #hybrid x reader #ot7 #ot7 x reader #ot7 hybrid

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 14

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 5,000ish

Summary: Just another day at the medical center, right? (Based off Grey’s Anatomy)

Heading back into the hospital, you went straight for Natasha’s room. The other interns were already in there, surrounding her bed.

“Hey,” you smiled, walking over to her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she responded. “I’m okay.”

You grabbed her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. She needed to know that you were there for her, but you weren’t going to push her into talking about something she wasn’t ready to talk about.

~~~

You slammed down a shot, needing to feel the alcohol rush down your throat. 

“How was Nat when you left, Scott?” Val asked, bringing more drinks over.

“She said she was okay, again,” he responded with a slight shrug.

“Nobody goes what she went through and is totally over it by now.”

“Natasha can.”

“She’s fine,” you added, taking another shot.

“Too fine,” Val said. “She’s cold.”

“No, she’s hardcore,” Clint said. “She’s got ice in her veins. She does what she has to do to get through it.”

“She lost a baby. She lost a fallopian tube and she’s acting like she doesn’t even care. She’s acting like she has no emotions or warmth, like she’s missing a soul.”

“She’s gonna make a great surgeon.”

“Clint!”

“It’s true. You show no weakness, you make it to the top.”

“Some people just keep their feelings to themselves,” you commented.

Your eyes were on the door, where Steve had just walked in. If he noticed you, he didn’t make it noticeable. You watched as he walked over to the bar and sat beside Gamora. Steve ordered a drink from Happy before talking to Gamora. Too bad you were too far away to hear them.

“Y/N kissed me,” Steve told Gamora. “Peggy kissed me… My wife and my girlfriend kissed me on the same day.”

“Happy, do I look friend to you?” Gamora asked.

“Oh, you’re a tiny little kitten of joy and love,” Happy responded, only for Gamora to make a face. “What? He saved my life.”

“His first mistake.” She took a sip of her drink. “Captain McDreamy, go sit by someone who cares.”

“Oh gee,” Steve mocks hurt, but doesn’t make a move to go. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Peggy will leave. Y/N and I will start over. Everything’s gonna be fine. Right?”

“You are so damn stupid.”

~~~

“With Natasha out, I need everyone focused today,” Gamora told her group of interns as you all headed off to rounds. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be be one of those days and since we’re short an intern, you do not want to get on my bad side.”

“When are we not on her bad side?” You whispered to Clint.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied with a scoff. “Scott and I are her favorites.”

The group walked into their first patients room. The woman was sitting on the bed, enthralling a group of hospital workers with a tell.

“So we're in the middle of the Belizean jungle and this jaguarondi jumps out and bites one of the guides,” the woman says. “They all look at me. They're yelling, "You're a doctor, help him!" This is one time a PhD does no good.” The people laugh.

“Sorry,” Gamora interrupted, “did I miss the memo about social hour?” Everyone quickly began leaving besides your group.

“Tales of missionary life,” the woman explained.

“You’re a missionary?” Val asked.

“No, my parents. We traveled a lot. Well, they still do.”

“Lang, tell me about our patient,” Gamora ordered.

“Okay, um, this is Dr. Banner’s patient, Talya,” Scott explained. “She, uh, presents with multiple syncopal episodes and ventricular arrhythmias.”

“So you’ve been passing out?” Gamora asked.

“Yeah,” Talya confirmed, “and having palpitations.”

“Talya has past medical history of rheumatic heart disease with mitral valve stenosis,” Scott added.

“They had to ship me from Zambia to the States for 3 months of treatment when I was 8,” Tayla said. “Rheumatic fever almost killed me.”

“Someone please tell me what the primary causes of ventricular arrhythmias are,” Gamora said.

Before anyone in the room could responded, Natasha appeared in the doorway. She leaned up against it in her hospital gown with her IV stand.

“Valvular disease, mitral valve prolapse, stimulants, drugs, and metabolic abnormalities,” Natasha answered.

“Out!” Gamora ordered.

“I’m fine.”

“Out! And you better be in your bed by the time we round on you!”

“And when will that be?”

“In 15 seconds. 14. 13. 13. 11.” 

Natasha turned around to head to her room, revealing her underwear through her nightgown. The group of interned laughed.

“Nice panties, Romanoff!” Peter laughed.

Natasha flips him the bird as she keeps waking. “In your dreams, Quill.”

They followed Natasha into the room, where she huffed as she got back into bed.

“L/N,” Gamora called.

“Right,” you responded. “Natasha Romanoff. Post-op day 3 from a unilateral salpingectomy.”

“And ready to get back to work,” Natasha said. “I'm taking solids and my pain is controlled with oral meds. I'm ready.”

“Well, it says here on your chart on you had a fever?”

“Y/N,” Nat growled.

“Natasha, did you have a fever?” Gamora questioned.

“Temp spiked to 101 last night. Big deal.”

“She worked 2 shifts last month with a 102 degree flu,” Clint added.

“Yes! Exactly, Clint. Thank you.”

“And we appreciate your dedication but you're staying in bed until it normalizes,” Gamora said. “You need to relax, shut up, and get better. You're a patient this week so you can be a doctor next week. Understand?”

“I understand,” Natasha grumbled.

~~~

Rounds had finished as you were heading to your assignment when you ran into Steve near the elevators.

“Skipping rounds?” He wondered.

“No,” you replied. “They just finished.” You kept walking, when Steve took your arm to stop you.

“Y/N…”

“You’ve got a wife.”

“Yes.”

“You’re life is complicated.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t need more complicated. I have that all on my own.”

“Yes.”

“Stop saying yes.”

Steve smiled. “I’m trying not to make any sudden movements.”

“You think this is funny?”

“Peggy’s leaving. She doesn’t have any more patients. There’s no reason for her to be here.”

“No reason? Really?”

“No really whatsoever.”

Steve stepped closer, bringing his hand up to brush your cheek. You stood there, trying to not let it get to your head or, well, anywhere else. Suddenly, Peggy appeared.

“Well now, isn’t this cozy?” She said. “Can I join in or are you not into threesomes?”

“I have to go,” you said, rushing away. You didn’t go too far, interested to watch everything unfold.

“Y/N…” Steve called with a sign. He turned to Peggy. “You really are Satan. You realize that right? If Satan were to take physical form, he'd be you. Everywhere, all the time.”

“I am so not Satan,” Peggy responded.

“How come you haven't got on your broomstick and gone back to where you belong?”

“Stop being petty.”

“Stop being an adulterous bitch.”

“You know, you are going forgive me eventually, right? I mean you can't just ... I mean there was a time when you thought of me as your best friend.”

“There was a time where I thought you were the love of my life. Things change.”

Peggy sighed and pulled some papers out of her bag, handing them to Steve. Steve quickly flipped through them.

“Divorce papers,” he said.

“Your lawyer said they're ok. I haven't signed them yet. The ball's in your court. If you sign, I'll sign. I'll sign and be on the first plane out of here.”

“I'll sign them immediately. I want you out of here as soon as possible.”

“Steve, have you ever thought that, even if I am Satan and an adulterous bitch, that I still might be the love of your life?”

Not answering, Steve walks away, completely not noticing you listening in from behind a pillar.

“What are we looking at?” Tony asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“Ah!” You exclaimed, jumping slightly. “Don’t do that!” You playfully hit him. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I just saw you over here and I was interested in seeing what you were observing.”

“I think… I think Peggy just handed Steve divorce papers.”

“Really? That actually surprises me. I thought she would put in a little more of a fight.”

“Yeah…”

“I guess that’s good news for you, right?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I want him to choose me because of me, not because of a divorce.”

“In my ever humble opinion, I think it will always be you. Trust me. That man is whipped.”

~~~

Natasha snuck out of her room and stole her chart. She sat in her bed as she made changes to it. Walking by, Banner looked in and noticed that no one else was in there. He quickly took the chart of Nat.

“Hey! That’s my chart,” Natasha complained.

“You're the patient. Not the doctor. Act like one,” Bruce reprimands as he studies her chart. “It's been tough finding you alone.”

“Yeah? Well…”

“How are you doing?”

“Well, you have my chart, you tell me.”

He sighed. “Natasha, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Perfectly okay.”

“I had a right to know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Natasha—“

“Look. Now you know. It’s over. There’ soothing for you to deal with. So I don’t know what else there really is left to say.”

“Plenty. For starters you could've come to me—“

“And what? We could have raised it together? Or you could have held my hand when I got the abortion? I did not need any of that. I’m an intern.”

“Nat—“

“Can you just go? I need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

~~~

Gamora called you to help her with a patient. You two walked into the patient room together, revealing a younger man on the bed.

“I thought I told you I never want to see you again,” Gamora said to the patient.

“That's only cause you're too lazy to learn anything more,” the man responded.

“Dr. Y/N L/N, this is Nick Tate. He thinks he knows so much cause he was one of my first patient's as an intern.”

“I knew as much as she did. She was clueless about how to treat cystic fibrosis. A simple cholecystectomy turned into a month-long stay.”

“Better not be alleging malpractice. Guy raises about a 100 grand a year for cystic fibrosis, running triathlons. Thinks he's a big shot.”

“Wait, you run triathlons?” You questioned, confused how it could as a patient with cystic fibrosis.

“Yeah, why not?” He responded.

“It’s a pain for one,” Gamora replied, flipping through the chart. “Says here you're finally admitting to feeling a little unwell?”

“A little.”

“How little? Truth.”

“Oh, enough to keep me awake at night. Had some seizures. Um, too weak to work out.”

“Anyone been through here with your CT results?”

“No. It's probably just my pancreatitis kicking up again.”

“All right then. We'll be back. With your results and a plan.” Gamora walked to the door, with you following. She glanced back at Nick. “Huh, where do your parents think you are this time?”

He smiled. “Hmm, San Diego.”

Gamora shakes her head as you follow her the rest of the way out of the room.

“What about his parents?” You asked. “Shouldn’t he, or we, tell them?”

“No, he doesn't like to bother them until he's well or about to get discharged. He understands his reality. He just chooses to ignore it. Denial works for him, L/N.”

~~~

After Bruce had left, it only took Natasha two minutes to have found blue scrubs and change into them. She took out her IV and snuck out to the nurses station. She began looking through patient charts. The head nurse, Phil Coulson, found her like that.

“Where’s your IV?” He asked, looking at her with a disappointed father face.

“I've taken solids. I HEP-locked it,” Natasha replied.

“On whose orders?”

“Mine.”

“Okay.” Phil quickly found her chart and began reading it. “Romanoff. How about this order: best rest, out of bed to chair, bathroom privileges. Nothing about stealing charts at the nurses station.”

“Okay, you know what….” She quickly looked around to find a nearby empty wheelchair. She brought it over and sat down in it. “There, satisfied? I’m out of bed to chair.”

“I’m telling your intent on you.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.”

She wheeled off with a patient chart, heading to Tayla’s room. When she arrived, she witnessed Tayla, by herself, taking a pill.

“I saw that!” Natasha exclaimed from her wheelchair in the doorway. “I saw you take that pill.”

“Oh it's, it's my pill,” Tayla excused. “You know... the pill.”

Natasha quickly looked over the chart. “It’s not at all in your chart and you are supposed to tell us the meds you are on.”

“You’re not my doctor. You shouldn't even be here.”

“She’s right,” Val said, appearing from behind. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I saw her take unauthorized medication!” Natasha continued.

“Well, you’re unauthorized to be here.”

“I’m on the pill and I had grapefruit juice this morning,” Tayla explained. “Since the juice inhibits enzymes involved in the metabolism of OCPs, I thought I'd avoid the interaction by taking it two hours after my meal.”

“She's has a doctorate in neuropharmacology, Natasha.”

Natasha huffed, “Well, Val, I don’t see any place where oral contra—“

“Okay so now you will. Will you just go back to bed and stop bothering the other patients?”

Tayla’s heart monitor suddenly started racing, bringing the other women attentions to her. She fell to the floor, unconscious, and Val rushed to her.

“She’s in V-FIB!” Natasha said. 

“Call the code,” Val ordered as she began compressions.

Natasha practically jumped out of her chair to call a code, which didn’t feel good. Val got Tayla back as the code team arrived.

“No code?” The nurse questioned.

“Not anymore,” Val answered. “Can you help get her back into bed.

“I’ll—I’ll help,” Natasha breathed got, struggling to get back to her wheelchair. “Just give me a minute.”

“Would you just go back to bed? Seriously, please just go.”

Natasha nodded as she finally made it to the wheelchair. “Just… if she’s on OCP’s, mark it down. Okay, Val?”

“Yeah.”

~~~

You had gotten Nick’s x-ray’s back and were currently putting them up to view them with Gamora by your side.

“Nick’s got a mass in his midepigastrium,” you explained. “Diffused enlargement of the pancreas. That, with his hypoglycemic seizures—“

“He's going to need an exploratory laparotomy. But, despite his triathlons, his lungs still make me hesitant to cut,” Gamora added.

“What are we going to do?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Doctors,” Peggy greeted.

“Dr. Carter-Rogers.”

“How old is he?” Peggy asked, studying the x-rays.

“26.”

“Survivor, huh?”

“And them some. My patient for at least 5 years. I'm not gonna lose him now.”

“You planning a laparotomy?”

“Hmm. You know, I think I could help you with this. I've seen one case like this before in a 9 year old. We ended up having to do a total pancreotectomy.”

“I'd be honored to take any help you can give me.”

“You’re a neonatal specialist,” you said. “What, uh… this isn’t your area.” Gamora looked at you, annoyed, as she shock her head. “I’m just saying that—“

“I did 2 years genetic research in cystic fibrosis,” Peggy told you. “I've pretty much seen it all, Dr. L/N.”

“Oh.”

~~~

Walking down the hall, Steve found you. Always trying his best to make a conversation with you. This time it was easy.

“Are you sure your wife is leaving?” You questioned. “She offered to help on the case Gamora has me working on.”

“Just because she offered her services doesn't mean she intends to stay,” Steve responded.

“Well, what does it mean? Because it seems to me—“

“It means that she's a good doctor.”

“Huh… why are you suddenly defending her?”

“I’m not. Y/N, she gave me divorce papers. She filed.”

“Good for you.”

“All I have to do is sign, and I’m free… We’re free.”

“Is there anything to think about?”

“No,” he shook his head, “of course not. I have to read through them, sign, then Peggy’s on the next plane out of here.” He grabbed your hands. “This is going to work.”

~~~

After the conversation he had with you, Steve immediately went searching for Gamora.

“Of all the fine doctors in the city, you accept a consult from Peggy Carter,” Steve said, angrily.

“Carter-Rogers, isn’t it?” Gamora retorted.

“The point is she should be on her way home. Are you purposefully trying to drive me crazy?”

“You think this has something to do with you?” Gamora’s voice was loud and upset. “You think I’m even thinking about you and your romantic problems? I’m trying to help a patient very near and dear to my heart. And if consulting with your wife—your ex—your mistress, what ever it is that she becomes! If that’s the thing I have to do to save my patient, them I’m damn well gonna do it.”

“I understand… and I totally deserve the yelling. It’s just that—“

“Just, you look! You have put yourself between two very fine women and you looking for an easy way out and you wanna use me, and the hospital and... somebody to make the decision for you, and it's not gonna happen!”

“Could I just… could I just say a couple of things?”

“No.” Gamora stormed off.

~~~

You found Natasha sitting in her bed, in her room. Thankfully. Though she was looking through another patient’s chart. You pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat down in it with a sigh.

“What’s your problem?” Natasha asked.

“Peggy gave Steve divorce papers, which is good. I mean she’s still here, being Peggy, but it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

“That’s odd.”

“It’s odd I’m not jealous?”

“No, you have every right to be jealous. It's your territory and she's peeing all over it.” Natasha went back to focusing on the chart in her hands. “What’s odd is Banner’s patient.”

“Tayla?”

“Yeah. She’s been in 4 other hospitals this year. You know something’s not right.”

“You seem awfully interested in Banner’s patient.”

“This has nothing to do with Bruce.”

“Natasha, you lost a fallopian tube, a baby and a boyfriend all in one day. You have the right to be upset.”

“And you’re losing Captain McDreamy to his perfect wife. You have the right to be jealous.”

“I did not lose Captain McDreamy. Divorce papers, remember? And I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not upset. I really need to get out of here.”

“You’re on bedrest, remember?”

“Okay, if the situation was reversed, would you wanna spend time with your mother in a confined room with one window?”

“No. I guess not. But still. You need to stay put.” 

Before Natasha could respond, your pager beeped. You looked down at it and groaned.

“I got to go,” you muttered, leaving.

“Good luck!”

~~~

Peggy and Gamora met you in Nick’s room. There you began explaining the surgery to him.

“We won't know for sure until we go in there, but it looks like that I'm going to have to take out your pancreas and re-route your intestines,” Peggy said.

Nick looked at Gamora. “Did you tell her that my lungs don't do well with anesthesia?”

“Don’t I always have your back?” Gamora retorted.

“Your kidney function is decreasing rapidly and I'm afraid you're gonna go into multi-system organ failure if we don't operate,” Peggy continued.

“If I say no?” Nick wondered.

“There’s no guarantees, Nick. You know that,” Gamora answered. “It's gonna be a long, hard surgery and put a lot of stress on your body.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “but I’m me.”

She smiled back. “But you’re you.”

“So if we don’t operate, I die. And if… we do operate, I may die.”

“Basically, yes,” Peggy responded.

“Well, I like those odds. And 26 years with this disease is awesome. And that's the reality. So if I get lucky ... great. And if I don’t…” Nick grabbed Gamora’s hand, “it’s been sweet.”

“It’s gonna stay sweet,” she replied.

~~~

Natasha was laying on her bed with her harm over her eyes when Clint walked into the room. Tayla’s chart was laid out on top of her.

“Why do you have that?” He asked.

“I’m working,” Nat answered. “Trying to figure out what’s going on with the crazy woman on four.”

“You are the crazy woman on four. Though, I have to say, you have a better patina than me and you don’t even really have a patient.” Clint plopped down in the chair next to her bed. “Y/N’s got a CF case. Peter has a gunshot wound. Val’s got the mystery arrhythmias. I have babysitting a crazy old lady! I’d rather do scut with Scott than this! I’m a surgeon. A cutter. I don’t want to be a fake surgeon! I want to be a real one!”

“She’s faking it,” Nat repeated to herself. She quickly got off the bed. “The missionary. Talya… Thank you!” 

She patted Clint’s head as she walked by. Natasha headed straight for the nurses station, where she saw Val looking around for something.

“Val!” Natasha called. “How how Talya’s studies been?”

“Hey!” Val responded, not pleasantly as she took the chart from Nat. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that!”

“Negative, right?”

“Oh! The echo tests showed mild mitral stenosis, the tilt test was negative. We're doing EP studies.”

“I can tell you what's wrong with her without sticking electrodes in her heart.”

“Really. Just by the chart?”

“No, from the pill she took.”

“They were contraceptives, Natasha! Why are you so obsessed with this? Just go back to bed!”

“I think she’s doing this to herself.”

“You think she's inducing ventricular arrhythmias? She'd have to be crazy to do—“

“No, no, no. She'd have to have Munchausen’s.”

“Okay wait. You think she's secretly ingesting something to produce real symptoms? Seriously?”

“Yes. Run it by Banner and tell me what he thinks.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself. He is standing right behind you.” Val made eye contact with the man. “Dr. Banner.” 

Then Val left. Leaving Natasha will Bruce. She sighed as Bruce guided her into the small office nearby before listening to her.

“I mean, she obviously loves the patient role. She practically lives in hospitals. And... and, and we're like an imaginary family to her because her really family blows her off to go take care of other people.... And, and I saw her take something.”

“It's not enough,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “We have to rule out everything else. Everything physical.”

“She even lied about her job. She's a pharmacy tech, not a PhD.”

“So she's a liar. I've been lied to before.”

“Hey, we're not talking about us here.”

“Maybe we should be.”

“I didn’t lie!”

“You withheld the truth from me. How was00”

“Okay, you know what? I distinctly remember you breaking things off with me. And you didn't seem so upset about it. And this?” She motioned between herself and Bruce. “This is, this is not a relationship. This is not real.”

“Natasha…”

“Okay, and, and so what's with the big display of fake hurt and drama?” She began walking out of the room.

“Natasha!”

“I’m supposed to be in bed.”

~~~

You absolutely did not want to be in surgery with Peggy. Yet there you were.

“I need more traction,” Peggy stated. “Dr. Y/N?” You quickly did as you were told.

“Here,” Gamora called, “give me some suction there.” So you did. “Now L/N, retract the duodenum. Good. How’s he doing Vis?”

Vis was keeping watch over Nick’s vitals and such. “Harder to ventilate and no urine output since we started,” Vis informed.

Peggy shook her head, “he’s shutting down.”

“Did you increase his peak pressures?” Gamora asked.

“Any higher, I blow his lungs,” Vis responded before the monitor beeped. “Bradycardia. Pushing 1 of atropine.”

“Try ventilating him manually,” Peggy ordered, “see if he starts coming back up.” Vis began pushing on a bag.

“Did we miss any bleeders?” Gamora wondered.

“The surgical field is clear.”

The monitor began beeping faster. “Agonal rhythm,” you said.

“Any pulse with that?” Gamora asked.

“No carotid,” Vis answered.

“Okay, starting CPR.” Gamora handed over her tools and begun CPR. “Push one of EPI.”

“No extraordinary measures, Gamora,” Peggy warned. “He’s DNR.”

“No this is just good medicine.” Sh continued CPR, almost frantically. “Come on! Come on! Don’t give up. Come on.”

“You’re getting tired,” you noted. “Let me take over, Dr. Gamora.” She nodded, letting you quickly switch her places.

“Gamora, his intestines are cyanotic,” Peggy stated. “There’s no blood circulating.”

“It’s been shunted to his brain where he needs it,” Gamora responded as she studied your CPR form. “You call those compressions.” She shoved you to the side and took over CPR. You and Peggy made eye contact, worried. “Fight it. Come on.” Peggy looked around, shaking her head, and everyone stopped what they were doing. All but Gamora. “Why isn’t anyone moving? Whose recording?”

“It's been ten minutes since we've had a perfusing rhythm.” Peggy goes to stop Gamora but is shrugged off. The monitor flat lines. “It’s your call, Gamora.”

Taking a shaky inhale, Gamora stopped. She pulled off her mask as the monitor continues to flat line. “Asystole.” She looked up at the clock. “Time of death: 19:35.”

Gamora rushed out of the OR, trying not to cry. She went straight to the sinks and began cleaning her hands furiously. She paused when she noticed people covering up Nick’s body. Peggy walked in and started washing her hands as well, with you following. You both eyed Gamora a few times, worried. Soon, she left.

Peggy sighed. “It’s hard to accept the end when you’re too close.” She looked down as she slipped her wedding ring back onto her finger. She noticed you watching. “Look, I don't want someone who doesn't want me, Y/N. But if there's the slightest chance that he does, I'm not leaving New York.”

~~~

Val walked into Natasha’s room, not excited for the news she was about to tell her.

“Well?” Natasha asked.

“You were right,” Val sighed. “Talya definitely suffers from Munchausen’s.”

“See I was right…. I was right…” She closed her eyes. “I was right…” Nat began to cry. “I was right. I was… I was right. Oh… I’m—I’m—“ She let out a sob. “I’m right. I’m—I’m right.”

Val looked out of the room to see Clint walking by. “Clint! Page Y/N!”

Clint hurried in. “Why? What—what’s happening? What did you do to her?”

“She just started crying and I don’t know what to do!”

“I’ll get one of the nurses to page, Y/N.” Clint rushed out.

“Natasha,” Val tried, slowly coming closer. “Natasha, calm down.”

“The nurses paged her!” Clint came rushing back in.

“It’s okay, Nat.” Val went in for a hug, only for Nat to shrink away and cry harder. “Okay, okay. I won’t hug you.”

“What’s going on?” You came running in, panicked.

“I can’t stop!” Nat cried. “I can’t—-I can’t stop…”

“Crying,” Val finished for her. “She can’t stop crying.”

“I can’t see that!” You replied. “What did you guys do to her?”

“Nothing!”

“She’s going to dehydrate,” Clint said. “Nat, do you want some water?”

Nat shook her head, “no, no…” You tried to go in for a hug, only to be pulled away.

“NO!” Clint and Val exclaimed.

“I already tried that,” Val said. “It just made it worse.” Clint tentatively handed Nat a tissue.

“Natasha,” you tried again.

“Make—make it stop,” Natasha sobbed. “Make it stop… Somebody sedate me!”

“What’s going on in here?” Bruce asked, walking in. He was dressed like he was about to leave. There was clear concern etched on his face. 

“We can’t get her to stop crying,” you replied.

“Y/N, get everyone else out of here.” Bruce was taking off his jacket. “Watch the door.”

You nodded, quickly ushering Clint and Val out. They voiced protests, but willing left. You shut the door behind you and watched. Peeking through the window, you watched as Bruce got in the bed beside Nat. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Natasha willingly curled into him, welcoming his comfort. You sighed and turned away, leaning against the door to keep watch. Steve noticed you and came up.

“Hey,” he smiled.”

“Hey.”

“When are you off?”

“Uh,” you glanced at your watch, “in about an hour. Why?”

“Meet me at Happy’s when you get off.” He started walking backwards, sly smirk on his lips. “Don’t be late.”

~~~

Steve and you arrived at Happy’s bar at the same time. He gave you a smile as he held the door open for you. You walked over to an empty table, Steve close behind.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” you said.

“Me too,” Steve replied. He set it briefcase on his chair. “Want a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Turning around, Steve knocked his briefcase onto the ground. A stack of papers slipped out.

“I’ve got it,” Steve quickly said, bending down.

“I’ll get it,” you said, picking up the papers.

You glance at the papers as you stand back up. There his divorce papers, that he has yet to sign.

next chapter >

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[hangovercurse]

Come and Go

Part iii of the Without You series: Colson struggles to explain himself, only pushing Y/N further away.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, angst, Colson being really bad at communicating

Word Count: 1500

| i | ii | iv | v | vi |

masterlist

“Colson?”

You were shocked at first, then upset, and then you were angry. “You can’t just fucking break into my house.” You yelled at him, placing your laptop on the coffee table.

He held his hands up in surrender, “I knew you wouldn’t let me in if I knocked and I have a key so technically it’s not really breaking in.”

“Get out!” You yelled, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you stand up.

“Okay, look. I know you’re upset-“

“Upset? Colson do you remember what you did? What you said to me? And now you show up at my goddamn house what, 2 weeks later? I’m not upset you fucking moron, I’m fucking pissed off right now.”

“I know I fucked up, okay? I’ve gotten enough of a lecture from the guys.” He said, looking more annoyed than apologetic.

You rolled your eyes, sitting back down. “Yeah you seem like you really feel bad Cols.” You said sarcastically.

“What do you mean? I am sorry, Y/N. Sorry I’m not down on one knee or some shit. What did you expect, really?”

You fought hard to keep tears from reaching your eyes. “I didn’t expect anything, honestly. But if you’re gonna come here and waste my time you could at least act sincere about it. You’re acting like this is a joke or some shit. I mean why are you really here?”

Colson walked backwards towards the door, “honestly I’m just here to get the boys off my back. Now I can tell them I tried to apologize and you turned me down and we don’t ever have to talk again, sound good?”

You thought that the next time you saw him you would be begging him to take you back, but now your blood was boiling. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Remember, you mean nothing to me. I don’t give a shit if you actually forgive me or not. In fact I’d rather you not, because then you’ll stay as far away from me as fuckin possible.” His voice was harsh, like he was cutting you with a poisoned blade.

You could only sit and let his words hit you, willing yourself not to break down until he left. You spoke quietly, because that was all you could bare to do. “Get out.”

And he did.

 Another week passed, and you seemed to have regressed back into the broken girl. You couldn’t seem to get his words out of your head.

And you felt stupid because you had other friends. You had great friends. But almost all of them were friends you made through Colson and you didn’t want to make them choose. So you chose for them.

Pete still texted you daily, but you’d resorted to giving him short answers or just not answering all together. You hadn’t told him about Colson coming over or what he said, he was already caught in the middle enough as it was.

The one person you told was Rook, only because he told you if you didn’t tell him about it then he would show up at your house and not leave until you told him. And you’d rather just type it all out than have to speak to another person. You just felt so emotionally drained, having an actual conversation with someone just seemed like too much effort.

But, despite telling you he would not come to your house because you told him, he ended up on your doorstep with a very angry Colson.

He rang the doorbell, scaring you slightly. Why was someone at your door at 11 pm?

Against your better judgement, you answered, finding the two boys on your porch.

You raised your eyebrow at Rook, waiting for him to explain himself. “Can we come in?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“You can come in. Not him.” You motioned to Colson without looking at him. You had yet to meet his eyes, but his were shooting holes through you.

“Y/N. We’re coming in. I’m tired of this shit. We’re not leaving until you two figure this out.” Rook was very obviously annoyed, and despite your body in the doorway, he moved into your house. Colson stayed at the door, still looking at you.

You turned away from him, letting him inside, “whatever.” You mumbled. Rook had made himself comfortable in your kitchen, grabbing a beer from your fridge and chips from your cupboard.

You walked into the living room, taking a seat on one of your couches awkwardly. Why the hell were you feeling awkward in your own house?

Colson sat on the other couch, his eyes still following you as you looked everywhere except him. Rook called from the other room, “I don’t hear you guys figuring your shit out!”

“Goddamn man what the fuck do you want us to say? This is fucking bullshit.” Colson called back, standing up from the couch and turning to the door.

Rook blocked his path, venom in his voice. “Sit down. You’re not fucking leaving.” His voice got quieter and you almost missed his next words. “Fucking fix this.”

Colson let out a sigh, “fine, but can you at least give us some space man?”

Rook studied Colson for a moment. “Fine. But if you hurt her again I’ll kill you, bro.” He opened the front door, giving you a small smile and a wink before closing it behind him.

Colson turned back towards you, studying you, trying to figure out where he stood with you. You were looking down at your hands, picking your nails to avoid looking at Colson’s blue eyes.

“You don’t have to do anything, Colson. I’ll just tell Rook you tried to apologize for real this time and I shut you down. I just want all this shit to be done with. I’m over it.”

You didn’t know it, but Colson’s heart sank further into his stomach. You sounded so defeated, so broken. It was exactly what he intended to do, and he knew it would hurt him too, but he wasn’t sure he could see you like this anymore.

He slowly made his way back towards you, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch you sat on. “I think it’s time I was honest with you,” he paused, “and with myself.”

“No offense Colson but I think I’ve had enough honesty from you to last a lifetime.” You muttered, still looking at your lap.

“Can you just hear me out? Please?” You didn’t answer, so he took his cue to continue. “I’m scared, Y/N. I’m fucking terrified.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “If you’re that scared of living without Megan then just go beg for her back.”

He took a deep breath, “That’s not what I’m scared of.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your head towards him but still avoiding his eyes.

“I’m scared of.” He paused, trying to find the words, “I’m scared of falling in love.”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Jesus Colson. That’s a shitty fucking-“

“Just let me finish, please.”

“Whatever.” You mumbled, realizing this conversation wasn’t going to actually fix anything.

Colson took another deep breath. “I’m scared of falling in love because every time I do, the person I love gets hurt. I’m not good for anyone. I- I fuck people up.”

You were still pretty confused but you put some dots together. “So, what, you were upset that you hurt Megan and you blamed it on me? Right. Cool. Great talk.” You rolled your eyes, waiting for him to get up and leave.

“Can you fucking listen to me, please?” He turned towards you. “I wasn’t in love with Megan, that was the whole problem.”

You finally found the courage to look at him. His blue eyes pierced yours as you studied his face. The sunken bags under his eyes, the unshaven stubble adorning his jaw, the unkempt hair.

“I’m in love with you. And I think I always have been.”

His words came out as a whisper. You felt tears surface and it took everything inside of you not to let them fall.

“You’re an asshole.” You stood up, walking towards the bedroom.

He followed you, “what do you mean?”

You turned back to face him, standing in your doorframe. “Yeah, Colson, this is all really funny to you, I’m sure. Is this your way of humiliating me even more? You make me feel like shit and then you try to convince me you love me? And then I fall for it and you-“

You were cut off as Colson’s lips met yours, his hands on either side of your face. At first you reacted, kissing him back before coming to your senses. You pushed him off of you and he stumbled back.

The tears in your eyes began to fall and you felt utterly ridiculous. “Fuck you. Get out of my house. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again.” You said, closing your bedroom door in his face.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker angst #rook cappelletty

[chefdoeuvre]

Cliché

Kelly Severide

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Description: Why try hard when you can be cliché?

Words: 1,254

Requested: yes by anonymous; Can you please do a Kelly Severide imagine with numbers 47 & 50? X

Warnings: hospitals, and probably incorrect medical terminology.

A/N: I'm so excited to write for my baby Kelly I hope this request is what you were hoping for. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

Firehouse 51 somehow always ended up with the most calls in Chicago. However, you wouldn't have it any other way. There was a slight problem though, you were crushing hard on Squad three's lieutenant, Kelly Severide. He was the resident playboy, which meant you would never have a chance with him anyway. This particular shift you were getting calls left and right. Something to do with the winter weather and bad luck of the Chicago residents.

You had so many calls that no one had time to sit down for breakfast or lunch and you were nearing dinner with nothing but a granola bar you scarfed down at the beginning of your shift. Everyone else had found moments to sneak in snacks throughout the day yet you had no such luck. You ate your last granola bar that morning and didn't want any of the snacks stored in the kitchen. You weren't so much as picky, but you just didn't find any of the snacks you had at the firehouse appetizing. Hence the fact you always packed your own granola bars. You thought you had packed extras before arriving to this shift but you were proven wrong when your stomach growled while at your last call and just had a discarded wrapper to spare in your locker.

After finishing up the call you all but threw yourself into the truck as you headed back to the firehouse. Your head was already beginning to pound at the sound of the ambulance's sirens fading while they drove off to Med. You let out a quiet sigh as you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, doing your best to drown out the loud sounds around you. Soon enough, you had made it back to the firehouse and hopped out of the truck stripping back to your regular clothes. A sharp pain struck you in your temple as you placed a hand to your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You subconsciously let out a wince as the pounding became harder to bear and black began to dot your vision. You were the only one left on the apparatus floor as you reached your hand out grabbing at the truck for support.

From the other side of the truck, Kelly heard a wince as he furrowed his brows and rounded the corner to find you barely upright holding onto your head.

"Y/N?" Kelly asked in concern.

You peeked up at where the voice was coming from as black was almost completely taking over your vision, "Kelly?" You whispered out before stumbling forward.

Kelly lunged toward you and wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you stable. You let out another wince before stumbling again and falling limp in Kelly's hold. He gently lowered you down to the ground when conveniently ambulance 61 rolled into the apparatus floor. Sylvie quickly hopped out as she made her way toward the two of you.

"What happened?" Sylvie asked as she kneeled down to check you over.

"I don't know, she just passed out." Kelly shook his head.

You let out a quiet groan, slowly coming to.

"Hey, you alright?" Kelly asked you softly as he brushed the stray hairs that fell out of your ponytail out of your face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded, slowly trying to push yourself up to a sitting position.

Kelly looked at you in disbelief, "you just fainted into my arms, it's kind of hard to believe that you're fine."

You waved a dismissive hand, doing your best to get into a standing position. Before you could straighten yourself out black dotted your vision again as Kelly quickly wrapped his arms around your waist. You stumbled slightly before Kelly decided to lift you into his arms. He wrapped one arm around your back and placed the other under your legs, lifting you up bridal style. Sylvie instructed him to load you into the back of the ambulance saying that they were going to take you to Med to get checked out.

After being admitted Sylvie and Gabby left to head back to work while Kelly decided to stay by your side. He had already informed Boden about the situation who asked his lieutenant to keep him updated. Currently, you were asleep while Kelly held onto your hand with one of his while the other texted Casey all of the details to relay back to the rest of the firehouse. Apparently, you had passed out due to a combination of dehydration and hunger. You were hooked up to an IV to help with your current state.

You peeled open your eyes only to shut them immediately due to the bright lights blinding you. Letting out a quiet groan you open them again only to be faced with steel-blue eyes filled with concern.

You furrowed your brows at the sight of the man you'd been dreaming about thinking you were either dead or still asleep, "am I in heaven?" You whispered out.

Kelly's face broke out into a smile showcasing his best features and let out a light laugh, "no, you're in the hospital." Kelly corrected with a shake of his head.

Your furrowed brows rose up once your memory came flooding back to you. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position as you mulled over the memories. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment at the fact you practically fell into Kelly's arms.

"What's up with the blushing?" Kelly asked in a teasing tone.

"I totally made a fool out of myself." You shook your head covering your face with your free hand only to find it interlocked with Kelly's.

Your eyes widened at your two hands looking up at Kelly before turning your attention back to your hands. He gave you a soft smile and just leaned back into his seat as your mind continued to run a mile a minute.

"You done freaking out?" Kelly asked in amusement.

You were wondering how he could be so nonchalant about this entire thing. You were holding hands with the guy you've had the hots for practically since you started and he was sitting there acting as if you've done it before.

"Not really." You shook your head still trying to wrap your mind around the fact his hand fit perfectly in yours like a romance novel cliché.

"Well, I was thinking when you were done with that we could go out for dinner. You know since our shift is basically over and you desperately need to get some food in you." Kelly suggested looking at his watch to check the time.

"Like a date?" You practically squeaked.

"Of course." Kelly nodded with a wide grin.

"You're being serious right now? Like this isn't some cruel joke?" You questioned.

"Deadly. I'm just glad I found a semi-good time to work it into a conversation with you." Kelly shrugged as he started playing with your fingers.

You still sat there in shock as you listened to the words come out of his mouth. The Kelly Severide wanted to go out with you this whole time and waited until you were in the hospital to ask you out.

"Maybe I should try being more cliché." You murmured out loud.

"You definitely should. It's cute." Kelly nodded his blue eyes sparkling when they connected with yours.

You looked at Kelly with a wide smile that he returned. Maybe you should've been cliché from the start if it got Kelly to look at you like this.

#request #fanfiction #imagine #one shot #one chicago #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire #lieutenant kelly severide #kellyseveride #kelly severide #kelly severide x you #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide imagines #kelly severide imagine