#ok this is more tricky than i thought because he kept moving that i had to switch some parts

[griffintail]

Finding a Forgotten Memory

Summary: A happy ending for this post and this one. 

Pairings: Parental! Ghostbur x F! Child! Reader

Tommy x F! Child! Reader

Warnings: ANGST! But there’s a happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         Tommy swept his gear on the floor as he paced the length of his bedroom in his hotel, warm tears rolling down his face.

         He remembered the day Ghostbur had stormed into his home, balling, his tears creating smoke, that he couldn’t find his little blue. He had assured the ghost, she was fine. Probably hiding or she wandered a little farther than she should have.

         Grabbing his sword in case the search took too long, he followed Ghostbur into his sewer he’d moved back into after Tommy’s freedom from exile. Inside, Tommy had a few doubts as he looked at the bit of wreckage around the place.

         “Did you do this looking for her Ghostbur?” Tommy asked, sitting a barrel upright.

         “N-No. I-I s-s-s-he…” The ghost couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

         “I’ll look outside. Stay here in case she comes back alright?”

         Ghostbur nodded rapidly, clutching onto an already full piece of blue. Tommy nodded before leaving the sewer calmly then booking it to Phil’s.

         “Phil!” Tommy shouted, slamming the door open, startling the man and his crows. “There’s something wrong with Ghostbur.”

         “What? What’s wrong?” Phil immediately stood up.

         Tommy explained the situation and they both gathered everyone they could, a search party formed. (Y/N)’s name was shouted into the wind as everyone separated into many corners of the Dream SMP land and the L’Manberg land. Even people like Sapnap and Punz helped them look in their more familiar areas.

         But they couldn’t find the little girl and mobs had started to come out. Tommy, Phil, Techno, Fundy, and a few of L’Manberg citizens continued their searches. Techno and Phil went into more in-depth searches or rather questionings. Yet…there was no word of her…

         That was the night Phil fabricated the lie.

         “We’ll only use it till we figure out what happened. Ghostbur will have to believe it because Fundy refuses to talk to him but he likes (Y/N).” Phil assured the younger as he fidgeted in worry.

         They’d try to figure out what happened in the next few days!

         …

         Then a few days turned into a few weeks. And a few weeks turned into two months…

         They’d lost hope and even though there was no message on the walkies, they knew the magic had a range and (Y/N) …she had to be gone…They didn’t know what happened, could only speculate.

         Time had to move on and people grieved, Tommy taking it hard as the little girl had helped him through hell without knowing. She was part of his family and she had made him smile when he needed it the most, not even knowing he had needed her little games and laughs. He wished he had those when he had gone through the final battle with Dream, yet even after his victory, he continued to grieve and now seethe as Dream dangled a fruit of revival in front of him.

         Listening to the same horse shit, day after day…

         They had told Ghostbur once or twice in the beginning but Phil told everyone to keep up the lie when the ghost would just break completely, unable to function at all. Tommy couldn’t handle it anymore that Ghostbur didn’t remember the one thing he thought the ghost would never forget. That he wasn’t grieving like him. The little girl only helped Tommy through a rough time but that same little girl was Ghostbur’s entire world! It wasn’t fair to her memory that Ghostbur simply forgot the end of it!

         He knew the ghost couldn’t help it and that the ghost would break if he actually remembered but it frustrated him to no end because Tommy didn’t forget and broke at his own memories and he couldn’t live like this anymore! He…he couldn’t let the little girl be gone any longer…

         He looked at the prison from his window, before clenching his hands. He needed to pay an “old friend” a visit.

         …

         Tommy stood on the other side of the netherite blocks as the lava behind him finished cascaded down and the barrier was gone between him and the smiley masked man.

         “Tommy! What do I owe the pleasure?” Dream asked, spreading his arms as he laughed.

         “Business. I want that revive book Dream.”

         “The revive book? You know I can’t just give that to you Tommy. I won’t revive Wil—”

         “Not…Wilbur,” Tommy muttered.

         Yes, the boy wanted his older brother back but he wanted this little girl back first.

         “Not Wilbur? Who would you want? Not Schlatt.” Dream mocked and Tommy clenched his jaw.

         “Just shut up you bastard and listen!” Tommy shouted and Dream stopped, watching. “You’re going to bring (Y/N) back or I’ll never visit you again and we both know how much you want me to visit.”

         Dream stood there before grinning wickedly behind his mask. “(Y/N)? Huh. You’re going to have to remind me who they are…”

         “YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO SHE IS!” Tommy snapped, doing his best to keep his tears in. “She was the little girl you hated because she made me happy during exile!!”

         “Oooh, right. Ghostbur’s kid.” He chuckled, turning from him. “How’s he doing?”

         Tommy restrained himself with great difficulty.

         “Such a bad memory, his child going missing, I’m sure he’s practically been destroyed…”

         Tommy felt the warm tears in the corner of his eyes as he took deep breaths.

         “Or did he finally forget the little brat?”

         He lost it.

         He pinned Dream to the obsidian wall and barked at his smiley mask.

         “YOU’RE GOING TO BRING HER BACK RIGHT NOW YOU GREEN FUCKING PRICK!”

         Then Tommy saw his wicked grin under his mask.

         “I’d love to Tommy, but I can’t bring back what’s living.”

         “W-What?” Tommy sputtered, confused.

         Dream laughed as Tommy let him go.

         “You never saw the message because there was no message to have! It wasn’t my goal after all to kill her.”

         Tommy’s world stopped before his heart pounded. She…She was still alive?! But Dream had been in prison for three months after they finally decided she was gone. She…She wouldn’t have survived…

         “And now that you know, the clock is ticking Tommy. Will you lose her and have to deal with another ghost? Of course, I can make it simple. Let me out and I’ll give her right back.”

         Tommy shook. He had mourned for her. He had stopped…looking for her…

         Shaking his head, Tommy stepped behind the barrier, it going up, shocking Dream. No, Tommy needed to make this right.

         “I’ll find her. Suck it, green boy.” Tommy snarled, before stepping onto the bridge.

         “YOU WON’T! SHE’LL DIE BEFORE YOU FIND HER TOMMY! ONLY I KNOW WHERE SHE IS AND SHE’LL STARVE SLOWLY!”

         But Dream underestimated Tommy’s determination…

         …

         “PHIL!” Tommy shouted on the walkie as he sprinted back for his hotel for his gear.

         “Don’t talk to me, Tommy! How could—” Phil started to yell at him.

         “(Y/N) IS STILL ALIVE!”

         “W-What?” Phil stopped.

         “I went to Dream to revive her and he admitted to taking her. She’s still alive. We need to find her now!”

         Tommy slid slightly as he got to the entrance of the hotel before dashing in.

         “H-How, what?!”

         “IT’S A LONG STORY NOW WE NEED TO LOOK! We need to every fucking place Dream’s ever been!”

         They had figured she had been kidnapped. They just hadn’t known by who. Dream had been prime suspect, but even then, he had an alibi; and at the time, they couldn’t exactly search the most powerful man’s places.

         “O-Ok. Ok! I’ll get everyone!”

         Tommy grabbed his gear and went to meet with everyone else. The search was back months later but they had new information. Dream was tricky with his hiding and everyone had to be clever as they went into different corners of the world…

         Tommy didn’t sleep for two days as they searched everywhere they could as his thoughts went rampant. What if Dream was just messing with him again? Lying to get him to let him out! What if Tommy had just given everyone false hope…

         Then as the sun just breaking into light purples on a new day, Tubbo cried out on the walkie.

         “WE FOUND SOMETHING! WE FOUND SOMETHING IN DREAM’S BUNKER!”

         Fear didn’t even grip Tommy as he sprinted for the nether portal. Tubbo, Ranboo, and a small crew of others took to the task of taking the bunker physically apart in hopes to find anything.

         Tubbo justified by saying this was where Dream had held his biggest cards. He wouldn’t have kept (Y/N) too far from there.

         Tommy stumbled into the room as he saw Ranboo standing back to be there if someone got stuck as Tubbo, Foolish, and Jack carefully digging around a mechanism they had destroyed. Tommy pulled out his own pick and joined them.

         After some time, they managed to crumble away stone into a hallway.

         “I’ll go,” Tommy muttered.

         He hated the tight space of the hall but he had to know and if it was a trap, he wanted to take it. Carefully going down the hall with his axe instead, he didn’t go too far before he found a door. Opening it slowly, he found a plain room and…a little girl in a dirty blue hoodie spinning around bored in the room.

         “(Y/N)!” Tommy choked on a sob before dashing into the room and hugging her tightly.

         She yelped in surprise before grinning widely. “Uncle Tommy! I told Dream you’d visit!”

         Tommy cried as he squeezed her. She was so naïve as always. She hadn’t changed in the missing months…He missed his niece so much.

         “Your crying! I don’t have any blue.” She said, looking around the empty room.

         “I-I’m ok (Y/N).” He laughed quietly. “They’re happy tears…but there’s a ghost that would love to see you…”

         She gasped. “I missed daddy! Is he here?”

         “No…but I know he’d love to play a game of hide and seek…”

         “Ok, do you have any food? The tall man hasn’t brought me any.” She explained as he stood up.

         He frowned in confusion before his eyes went wide. The person that had been helping Dream while he was in prison.

         “(Y/N), what did she look like?” Tommy asked quickly.

         She shrugged. “He was very tall and he wore funny clothes and he wore a mask.”

         “Like Dream’s?”

         She shook her head. Tommy frowned deeply. Who the hell had been helping him?

         “I don’t have food on me but I’m sure Ghostbur will gladly give you dinner.”

         She grinned as he carried her out. The others cheered seeing the pair, sharing hugs with her as Tommy continued to hold her. Everyone over the radio celebrated as Ranboo made the announcement. Phil nearly collapsed in happiness when they got to L’Manberg, relieved he hadn’t lost another child he had helped care for.

         Reluctantly, before Tommy brought her to the sewer, Tommy told her not to tell Ghostbur about her “trip”. It was a little secret between the two of them. She promised not to tell and Tommy brought her into the sewer, seeing Ghostbur was doing his daily morning to find his little blue. He hid (Y/N) in a barrel he knew Ghostbur checked before rushing out.

         He waited by the door as he heard a cry of laughter, smiling lightly before leaving, his work done.

         “There you are little blue! It’s breakfast time, not time to play hide and seek!” Ghostbur laughed, hugging the little girl tightly, not really understanding why he had before he gasped hearing her stomach rumble. “You’re starving! Let’s have a big breakfast!”

         She giggled, agreeing with him as she snuggled into him.

         “Your hoodie is getting dirty, we’ll wash that before we go visit Phil and Tommy, ok?”

         “Ok, daddy. I love you.”

         “I love you too my little blue. I love you so much.” He muttered without thinking, nuzzling the top of her hoodie.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #ghostbur x reader #tommyinnit x reader #dreamsmp x reader

[raymondebidochonlifechoices]

Are you confident Bughead will be endgame on this show? That’s literally the last strand I’ve been holding onto, but the thread is weakening. I really can’t believe that they would take this ship, their absolute most popular and loved one, and just end it like this forever. I am so angry with the writing!!

Hey there, anon! It is unbelievable, isn’t it?

What a tricky question you ask! confidence + prediction + the Riverdale writers ... As Jughead would say: yikes!

The thing with these writers is that they use a lot of words without knowing their meaning. “Endgame” is one of them. “New” is another. “Exciting”. “Darkness”™. “Adult stories”. “The message”…

Dangling the bughead “endgame” carrot at the end of one or two seasons of no bughead or -worse- of b*rchie and j*bitha f.e. is not an endgame. The general definition of endgame -outside of chess- is: the last stage of a process. If the process (i.e. the season’s content) isn’t about bughead, then bughead coming together at the very end is not an endgame, it's a peripeteia i.e. a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances.

In shipping, endgame is a couple that will inevitably end together (for ever and ever and ever). In order for something to be inevitable, you have to create that sentiment, you have to build the couple up.

There’s an article about the misappropriation of the word “endagame” that I find particularly funny, as it starts by mentioning Riverdale!

Anyway, this is a long-winded way to say that, yes, I do believe that the show will end with bughead and varchie as their main canon couples. It’s just that, like you, I’m so very tired with these story lines. There is satisfaction to be had at the notion of endgame but a seasonful of investigative bughead would be infinitely preferable. For me (and I can only speak of myself) the journey is more important than the destination -even if for the simple reason that -in TV show time- it lasts longer!

Why do I think bughead is still … that word? Everything’s under the cut, so as not to clutter your dash!

1. A lot of people have been theorising that what happened in 5x18 was not the original plot. I agree.

Let’s start with 5x18 varchie.

Their break up came completely out of left field. Its unexpectedness is reminiscent of 4x17. I make fun of how s5 is a reboot of s1+s2’s leftover ideas, so another copy-paste shouldn’t feel out of place, and yet … really? Another repetition? To what end? If the season’s goal was not varchie, b*rchie was already there waiting at the beginning of the time jump! Why abandon that plot? In terms of romantic varchie time, that was extremely limited, since after their kiss in 5x7, Veronica’s divorce kept them apart until 5x17 … Why have Archie being extremely jealous of Chad, Veronica getting involved in all of Archie’s schemes (firefighters, bulldogs), Archie getting involved in Ronnie’s (rescuing daddykins) or Veronica telling her father she chooses Archie over him in 5x17? Also, for those who remember, there was this by the-writer-who-shall-not-be-named.

The reason of the break up is as ludicrous as Veronica moving into Archie’s childhood bedroom (with its effing slanted roof!) on the premise that long term the Andrews’ residence has more room! (By the way, I don’t know what surprised me more: that Veronica thought that Archie and uncle Frank would know who Ina Garten is or that Jughead didn’t.) Why is Veronica astounded by Archie’s involvement in the same activities he has been involved in all through the season?! For f***’s sake, she’s the one that gifted him the fire truck!

Ok. Now let’s give 5x18 j*bitha a try.

For me, 5x18 could either have gone bugheadwards or j*bithawards. J*bitha had some heartfelt talks, a hand touch, a hallucination and a kiss. Bughead had one unfinished heartfelt talk (the only one in the whole season for Betty), two shoulder touches, two hallucinations and Jughead attempting to reconnect with Betty (without specifying what his intent was, it's true).

While I do think that j*bitha is a ship that has been adequately teased, the way they were explored in 5x18 was … not underwhelming exactly (after all, they’re not my ship, so I didn’t have any expectations about them) but … maybe lukewarm is the word? They had but minimal dialogue, only enough to establish that Tabitha’s parents were in town. Then a song where Tabitha initially rejects Jughead, although she had been supportive before. Then another song, where the lyrics were heavily altered and didn’t make much sense anyway (we hadn’t been properly introduced to the Tates) but where the original lyrics were very compatible with Bughead’s history and state of being as of 5x17. The kisses were ok, I have no problem with the actors’ chemistry. But -and this is strictly a personal opinion- Jughead’s flirting scenes (not the make-out ones, you perverts!) with Cora were better and so was the j*bitha kiss in 5x10. For the 5x18 j*bitha to flow, more dialogue and more flirting was necessary (always a persona opinion). So, no, I don’t think j*bitha were supposed to sing what they sang in 5x18.

Production for s5 wrapped up one week after the official announcement of the 5 special episodes for Riverdale and The Flash: “we expect it will take us until Fall 2022 to get back to a regular schedule” was the official quote. Re-organising the cw’s overall schedule didn’t happen overnight. Yes, more likely than not, the writers knew about the specifics of s6a before shooting 5x18-5x19 and had time to re-write them.

2. The couples spoilers for s6 do not make sense plot-wise.

If the end-goal for 5x19-6x1 had been b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie all along, these were pairs already happening (except from v*ggie) at the beginning of the time-jump. As for v*ggie, last time we saw them, Veronica pulled a face when she heard that he had had (still has?) an affair with Hermosa. And what about Nana Rose?! (ok, that was a joke! ... or was it? 👀)

The majority of both the fans and the general audience are bugvarchie shippers. Teasing b*rchie and j*bitha as a means of maintaining the viewers’ interest in a will they/won’t they way, only works if the audience finally gets what they want. In this season. Not the next one! There is so much trolling one can take after all. In the space of 1.5 year (4x17-5x19) b*rchie will have been teased ... THREE times (and still lacking build-up)!

I cannot myself see b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie as endgame couples. For the audience to invest in them after 4 years of bugvarchie, the writers have to a) give j*bitha an absolutely incredible development that will surpass bughead and the cinematography to go with it (good luck with that) and b) undo Archie’s character (highly unlikely) and/or give Betty a lobotomy (at which point a lot of people will quit en masse, because Archie as The One All The Girls Want just doesn't resonate with the majority).

I have no idea if s6a is an AU or not. But if it’s not, no one will be left to watch 6b.

Can I guarantee a bughead endgame? Of course not. I have no idea how the minds of the Riverdale writers work. But I do think that Jughead and Betty getting back together is more than wishful thinking.

Fervently shipping Jughead/Betty, Jughead/his book and Betty/therapy, sincerely yours, @raymondebidochonlifechoices

I hope you have fun with the Riverdale universe regardless, dear anon. Riverdale has given us one of the most beautiful getting-together stories in s1 and lots and lots of beautiful canon bughead afterwards. Here's to many more! Much love to you!

#asks #anon #Bughead #Riverdale writer's negativity #(what's new?) #anti-b*rchie #anti-j*bitha #Riverdale season 5 speculation #Riverdale season 6 speculation

[luimagines]

He reacts to seeing you Sick/Wounded Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

Scenario under the cut! Blood ahead so be warned.

Twilight

Twilight looked around the group for what had to be the umpteenth time, searching for you.

You had left awhile ago and had yet to return.

If it was Wild or Hyrule he wouldn’t have put much thought into it. The two of them were notorious for wandering off if something shiny caught their eye and they could be gone for hours.

Not you though.

If anything, you were the one to insist on keeping the group together and to avoid “splitting the party”. as you’d say. You even had a song to go with it, a catchy little tune from your world and he caught himself humming under his breath more than once when he realize someone was gone.

But you were gone long enough now that you even missed a meal.

Twilight started bouncing his knee in anticipation, the worse scenarios coming to mind at what could be happening to you.

“I’m going to find them.” He said, standing up and walking away from the group.

He waits until he’s far enough away to take out the necklace he’s been carrying around since the start of this adventure.

Twilight activates the charm and feels the magic wash over him, his vision and senses sharpening as the worlds color fade and his perspective changes.

There’s always a little discomfort as the beginning of each transformation so he takes a second to compose himself.

Twilight then starts sniffing the air and catches your scent, following where it leads. The path is pretty straight forward and he can almost reconstruct how long it took for you to reach the destination. Twilight travels a little farther than he was expecting, it’s way farther than hearing range, even with his advanced ears.

It’s a little concerning because even if you were to scream for help, there’s no way any of them would have known.

He’s trying to be optimistic. Twilight has seen you fight. He has seen you treat your own wounds. He was personally seen your resourcefulness in tricky situations. There’s little, he thinks, that can actually keep you down.

But then his worst nightmare comes to his nose and he takes off in a sprint. 

It’s blood.

It’s yours.

And there’s a lot of it.

He follows it as far as he can until he hears a pained whimper.

Twilight then follows the sound and comes to a stop, shocked at the sight before him.

You’re sitting up against a tree, the top half of you looks fine if only a little ragged and there’s tear streaks down both your cheeks. Twilight follows the line of your body and sees that there’s no injuries on your arms or torso even if your hands are covered in blood.

But at sight of your leg, he knows what’s happened.

There has to be people nearby, that’s the only explanation.

It’s metal trap with sharp jagged teeth that penetrate the skin and muscle in order to keep the prey from escaping, and they’re incredibly hard to break out of if you don’t have the right equipment. They’re also known for breaking bones if they hit in the right places.

It’s also clamed just above your ankle, blood weeps through still and has travels through the fabric of your pants un to your knee, pronouncing the injury even more.

“Wolfie...” You whimper and try to smile at seeing him. “Yay, you found me. I knew you’d come get me at some point. I tried calling but I think I’m too far away.”

Twilight’s heart bleeds for you and how scared you must have been before he showed up. And he wishes he would have gone looking for you sooner.

You sniffle and whip your face and nose with your sleeve, avoiding the mess on your hands. “I can’t get out. I tried but it’s stuck.” 

Twilight pads closer and sticks his nose by your hands but you pull them back. “I know it looks bad but my hands aren’t hurt...It’s all from my leg. I don’t want to get blood on your pretty fur.”

Twilight doesn’t take time to process the compliment and instead is focused on the choice he has in front of him.

Transform and reveal his secret to you, enabling him to help you here and now or go back and get help, leaving you to the mercy of whatever finds you in your vulnerable state.

It’s a pretty easy choice actually.

Twilight calls off the magic and lets the transformation wash over him. As per usual, the change is disorienting and it’s always hurt more to turn back human than it did to change into a wolf, so he takes a moment to breath before he looks at your ankle.

“Tw-Twilight? You’re Wolfie?” You splutter and try to wrap your head around what you just saw.  “It’s been you this whole time?!”

But he’s ignoring you.

He takes a good look at where the trap is and begins to prod ever so slightly.

“H-HEY!” You cry and try to reach for him. “Don’t! It hurts!”

He doesn’t have the key to unlock it and he doesn’t have the right tools at his disposal to try and pick the lock.

“Twilight please say something.”

“I’m going to get you out. Just hold on a little longer.” He glares at the metal for a moment before placing both his hands around it.

If there’s one thing he’s always been confident in, it’s his strength.

With both hands secured on the device he forces all of his weight to pry it open. He ignores how you continue to make sounds of pain, how his finger tips immediately become moist with your blood and how difficult moving this stupid thing to get you free actually turns out to be. 

After a battle of wills between man and the artificial, it moves and he tilts his hands to keep the momentum going until he’s moved enough of it for you to pull your leg out.

“Go. Get out.” He says with the strain in his voice.

You push away with your hands and your good leg to the best of your ability and slowly (well slower than Twilight would have preferred) to move your leg out of the trap and far enough away where he can simply let it clamp on itself again without fear of losing any fingers or hurting you again.

You gulp and try to move your pant leg to see the damage but it’s clear that doing that hurts you as well.

Twilight it quick to cut off the fabric with his trusted pocket knife and he peels it away.

Bones have definitely been broken.

And there’s certainly a lot of blood to deal with.

He twists the fabric slightly and wraps it above and around your injury to try and stop the flow of blood. Twilight can feel the glare he’s giving to your wound and refuses to look you in face so you can see it.

“Twilight?” You call to him. Your voice is small, weak, tired and afraid.

He can’t leave you to your own thoughts like he wants to so he takes a breath to calm himself and looks at you with as much gentleness and care as he can currently muster.

“You’re going to be just fine, ok?” He says with a small smile. “You’re actually pretty far from the others so it’ll be a bit of a trip but then we’ll get Hyrule to look at you, clean you up... find you some new clothes... You’ll be back to where you were in no time.”

Twilight’s not sure who he’s trying to convinced. It looks deep.

He hopes your foot won’t need to be cut off and that infection hasn’t already set in.

He moves towards you and stops on your good side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. In one swift movement he hooks his other arm under your knees and picks you up bridal style and begin to walk away from the mess.

You sniffle again and wipe your bloodied hands on your shirt. “Thank you Twilight.” You say. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Well you’re going to have to tell one of us what happened.” He responds. “The other are going to ask what on earth happened to you.”

“I meant about you being Wolfie.” You smile. “I’m fully prepared to explain my stupid decisions.”

The easy way you make that claim nearly makes him skip a step and send you both to the ground but Twilight is quick to readjust himself so that it never happens.

He had actually forgotten about that.

“I’d appreciate that.” He nervously chuckles.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you when you’re gone. I was starting to suspect something was related because your stories never matched up but I had no proof and no idea where to start. You’re... really not the best at it.” You say and pat his head. “So you save me, I save you. Sound fair?”

“That works for me.”

Time

Time had let Warrior lead the group because he seemed to be the most familiar with the terrain, even if he claims that this isn’t his Hyrule.

With someone capable taking the point, he hung back and let the other walk before him.

He had noticed that you were... weren’t yourself. Like you were hiding something.

You weren’t really interacting with anyone, and you kept your head down, something he hasn’t really known you to do. On another note, you were actually at the back of the group where he was currently stationed.

You always liked to be in the upper middle, talking and entertaining the younger ones and keeping up the group’s moral.

So the fact that you quiet and trying to go unnoticed, arms crossed and head down, worried him.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” He asked you as you walked.

You glanced up at him but you didn’t meet his eyes.

Something was wrong.

“I’m not really thinking about much of anything.” You admitted and shrugged. “I’m just a bit under the weather. I’ll be fine in a bit.”

“You don’t feel good?” Time frowns and stops the both of you with a hand on your shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“And slow down literally everyone.” You raise an eyebrow at him and he takes a quick second to catalogue your pink cheeks and red rimmed eyes.

Something is wrong.

“It’s just a headache.” You insist. “We’re already behind by how knows how long and it’ll go away on its own. I appreciate the concern but I don’t want to be a hinderance more than anything think I am.”

“For one thing, no one thinks you’re a hinderance.” Time says, taking off his gauntlet and he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, then your cheeks and the back of your neck. “If any one of those boys has told you that, you tell me and I’ll set them straight.”

He doesn’t miss the way you lean and hum in relief from his touch.

Truthfully, you’re actually burning up more than your skin seems to show and his concern sky rockets beyond the moon and back of this proverbial saying.

“I appreciate the thought but it’s not that important.” You say and he catches the way you frown in displeasure when he pulls away.

“Who told you that?” He asks in lieu of bringing your illness to light.

“No one.”

Time frowns some more and says your name in his stern commander voice that he knows you hate.

“No one.” You insist. “No one here anyway.”

From your previous adventure perhaps? Time puts the information away in the back of his mind and vows to vanquish the thoughts from your head when he can, but your health takes precedence right now.

“I think it’s about time to take a break anyway.” Time puts his gauntlet back on and begins to walk forward, leading you with a hand on the small of your back. “Maybe the Champion would be willing to make something for lunch.”

“Think he can cook something up for my headache?” You sigh and massage your temples in a way that seems reminiscent.

“That and more, if you ask him.” He replies easily and lets out a loud whistle that has become their cue to set up for the midday break.

It takes a while for your duo to make it to the others but at least you weren’t so far gone that no one would have heard Time’s signal.

You instantly take a step down and sit on the ground, cradling your head in a way that looks more like you’re crying than merely resting.

Time feels his heart clench at the sight and makes his way over to Wild. He tells them what he found out and asks if he can make something special for you. Something to keep you going.

Because as much as he wants to, this is not the place to stop for the night and with your pride on the line, he doesn’t want the others to crowd and bring more attention than you’d be comfortable with to your predicament.

“There’s a town about three hours from here.” Warrior’s speaks up, having eavesdropped on the conversation Time was trying to have on the down low. “We can hit it before night fall and let them rest in an actual bed for the night.”

Time nods and agree with the notion.

The others seem to catch on that you’re not feeling well and Time discourages them from getting closer than they should, less they get sick as well.

The break is quiet and uneventful for a change and Time is quick to get the group up and moving again when it’s over, choosing to keep you company on the way to the town and trying to make it as painless and comfortable for you as he can.

A part of him thinks that he should just swallow his pride and yours and carry you to the town as you deteriorate on the walk, but it’s not like you’d let him.

He’d just have to satisfy his concern when he eventually takes watch over your bed side, just to make sure you wake up feeling better.

Wind

Wind was sure that you’re hiding something.

You’ve been shifty eyed and nervous, jittery and uncollected.

So unlike the you that he’s come to know, rely on and appreciate.

It scares him a little, to see you so unlike yourself.

Wind makes a calculated guess on why you’re so weird after walking by your side for most of the journey. 

You’re hurt and trying to not let anyone else know.

He can tell by how you’re trying to curl in yourself and fold over but have to keep righting your position. You’re having to walk with one foot on your toes because if you tried any more normally, you’d be limping. You’re a bit slower than your usual walking pace but you’ve been arcing your stride a little to the side so that it matches in length what you wouldn’t be able to make up for in number of steps.

He’s almost impressed by how well you’ve been hiding it.

But it’s drowned out by the irritation of your stubbornness. You could have just told someone, anyone, and they’d help you in seconds. You wouldn’t have to be in pain or having to stop every other second to hide a wince or a grunt or-

Wind is this close to just stopping everything to scream in your face.

He takes a small glance over to you as you walk, and sighs. He knows you won’t listen to him if he tries to say something. And you’d probably be irritated at him instead for trying to make a fuss about it.

Wind doesn’t know what to do, or how to help you, without being pushed away.

You trip.

Wind is too shocked by the outcome to even try to stop you from falling face first into the ground. 

Ok, not face first. You manage to twist yourself just in time to avoid a face on collision, but you land on your side in the process.

Your bad side.

You yell in pain which alerts the whole group ahead and behind you. But you don’t seem to care about that anymore. You finally give into the urge and curl in on yourself, rolling over so that the ground is against your good side and nothing is irritating whatever hit you’ve been hiding.

Wind has to nearly smack himself out of it before he makes it to your side. He can hear the other catching up, their footsteps thundering mutely on the dirt but he’s more focused on you and where your hand seems to be cradling your side.

He’s quick to peel your hand off and lift your shirt.

You’re too shocked and stunned from the pain to stop him. Enough so that you’re brain doesn’t even register it, so you don’t fight back.

He gasps at the the sight and his stomach turns ever so slightly.

It’s a massive bruise, from up to your ribs that are highlighted in a toxic green, down to your hip and it’s not even black and blue. It’s so bad there’s more red on the surface than purple and it makes it look like you’re covered in blood even if the skin hasn’t been breached.

He knows what caused this. 

Two days ago the group had found themselves in the middle of a fight with not one, but three infected monsters and one of them had a nasty looking club. You were fighting with him and on one of them and had taken a hit directly to your side. It was strong enough that it sent you spinning through the air and right into a tree. He didn’t think much of it since you simply bounced back like nothing happened and proceeded to stab the thing through the skull, but if he tries hard enough, he think you hit the same side on the tree as well.

But you didn’t drink a potion, he doesn’t think he even saw you being healed by Hyrule. Which means that you just had this on you for so long and you just- weren’t going to tell anyone?!

Wind can feel his heart clench in tandem with his first, your shirt nearly ripping since it was trapped in between his fingers. “HYRULE!”

“What happened?” Warrior makes it to his side first and stops mid-step when he catches sight of it. “I’ll... go get the Traveler.”

There’s a few seconds in between before you shake off the pain and rip your clothes out of his grip, forcing yourself to get to your feet again.

Everyone is too shocked by what they’ve seen verses how you’ve acting that they almost let you but Wind has been next to you, watching you, and he still is. He catches that your arms are shaking as you put your weight on it, and when you try and compensate for your bad side, you nearly throw yourself over again from your bad balance.

Wind pushes you back down and keeps his hands on your shoulders so keep you from trying that again.

Hyrule takes his cue and slides on his knees until he reaches your side, his healing spell fluttering around his fingers and into the nasty bruise.

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Cut the bullcrap.” Wind says, knowing that Twilight and Time are behind him with Sky not too far behind. He hopes they let that one slide at least. “It’s looks like you were stabbed fifty seven times and poisoned to top of it all.”

You look up at him then and sigh, the fight leaving instantaneously. “Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever!” He argues but you cut him off.

“It’s just a bruise. It’ll heal in a few days and nothing is broken. But because it’s you holding me down, I’ll let you heal me.” You try for a half smile but Wind thinks it falls flat. “I’m not even going to try and fight a pirate in my state. Take your victory for now.”

“You didn’t have to let it get so bad.” Hyrule scolds you and you don’t even have the decency of at least looking apologetic.

“It was the fall that really made it hurt.” You clench your jaw when your shirt gets lifted higher for Hyrule to heal the bruise on your ribs. “It was just awkward before that.”

“No it wasn’t” Wind frowns even harder. “You were walking funny. It hurt like hell back there too and for a while as well. Why didn’t you get treatment with the others? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wind.” You say with as much patience you can muster. Your face begins to relax as the pain fades and the bruise changes to a more normal shade of purple with black spots. “We have no potions left. And Hyrule can only do so much healing in one go.”

“Speaking of...” Legend steps in and yanks Hyrule back by the shoulder, stopping the healing process.

Hyrule takes a minute to reorient himself and he steps away from a minute to catch his breath.

Wind takes another look at your injury and winces. While it looks significantly better than it did seconds prior, it’s not completely healed and would likely have to take more magic to heal on its own. They could just leave it there for the days it’ll take for it to heal naturally but Wind doesn’t like the idea of leaving you hurt for more than necessary.

“How were none of your bones broken?” Twilight asks in a quiet shocked voice.

“Oh no, there were many fractures, believe me.” Hyrule shakes his head. “Mostly minor but it’s crazy how they were able to still be standing, let alone walking. Didn’t any of that hurt?”

Wind takes a sharp breath and has to look away from you. 

You were really good at hiding it then.

He misses the pained look on your face as he turns away and can’t see the hand you reach out to him. “Wind?”

“No.” He gulps and stand up. “This isn’t ok. You can’t do this. Say something next time, or I’ll never speak to you again.”

The second he says it, he feel childish for coming up with that threat in particular and while he wishes that there’ll never be a next time, he knows better.

Occupational hazard and all that jazz.

Your face morphs into one of sadness and you take your hand back. “Ok. Ok. I’ll be better next time.”

He supposes the threat worked after all.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #hoo boy! #Twilight's might be the longest one yet #YET #is the key word #With Wind right up against him #I'm a roll today! #three more to go WOOOO!!

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

two can keep a secret

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: What is the difference between a secret and a lie? Jason Todd is in love. But will his relationship survive when Y/N realizes she doesn’t know him at all?

Word Count: 9,500+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of rape, domestic violence, and murder

She is the first thing he thinks of when he slowly comes to.

Not her face, like some glowing angel that you always see in those stupid movie montages, where the protagonist’s wife or girlfriend tragically died and he’s thinking of her.

No, Jason is thinking about how pissed Y/N’s going to be when he misses date night.

Jason didn’t need to go out to a fancy restaurant or cocktail bar to be content. Doing absolutely nothing with Y/N was more than enough for him. But she deserved more than that – not that she ever said so. Jason was the one who insisted on taking her out every so often. So he sucked it up and did anything to make that woman smile. It didn’t hurt that Y/N was too talented at dolling herself up.

Y/N was probably sitting with her hair curled and her makeup done to perfection (after watching a YouTube tutorial for a look she had been wanting to try for weeks). Or, depending on how much time had passed, she had given up and bitterly changed into her pajamas.

The other unfortunate fact was that Y/N still didn’t know that Jason had a double life. She had zero idea that her boyfriend of a few months was also the infamous Red Hood.

So, yeah, Y/N was going to be pissed, thinking that Jason simply forgot about date night or just completely blew her off.

Just when Jason was fighting the migraine to open his eyes, someone kicked his shins roughly.

“I know you’re awake,” someone sang to him.

Jason blinked and squinted, realizing that his helmet was still intact.

Well, that’s one positive.

He looked at the man standing just a few feet away from him. Decked out in a fancy green suit, horned rimmed glasses, and that stupid little bowler hat.

The Riddler.

Jason always found him to be mostly an inconvenience. But clearly he’d done something to piss off the annoying genius, because this was a lot of effort on his part.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason growled, knowing his voice sounded even more dangerous with his helmet distorting it.

Riddler smiled and put his arms behind his back. “You have become rather troublesome, Red Hood.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Jason answered with sarcasm.

But Jason hadn’t been interfering with the Riddler for quite some time, so he was still rather confused what was going on.

“Our mutual friend is quite tired of you meddling with his business. Also, it’s not cheap to replace all of his goons you keep murdering.”

Jason tilted his head. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

Riddler narrowed his eyes with slight annoyance. “Why the Clown Prince of Crime, of course.” Jason’s body tensed at the name and the Riddler noticed immediately. “He figured if you came back from the dead once before, there’s a chance you could do it again.”

Then the Riddler stopped his pacing and did a dramatic gesture to himself. “Which is where I come in. You see, he thought it would save him some time and effort to simply hire me.” He moved closer to Jason. “He figured if he couldn’t kill you…maybe you deserve a different punishment.”

Jason audible sighed. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

While it sounded like a joke, there was a truth to the question. Jason stopped fearing death long ago. And once you’ve died and come back to life, there’s nothing really that scared Jason Todd anymore. Which was why he had become the ruthless and merciless antihero of Gotham.

Batman would hurt criminals enough to break them. Red Hood would simply kill them.

Though after fighting his family became too much, Jason finally agreed to stop his massacres. But the criminals of Gotham didn’t need to know that. And Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how much they shook at the mere sight of him.

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure out how to return some fear into that ice cold heart of yours,” Riddler whispered in Jason’s ear before pressing a button.

A swinging light bulb flashed on.

No, no, no, no. no.

Below the source of the light was Y/N, tied to a chair by her hands and feet. A rag was across her mouth and tied at the back of her head. She was only in her underwear and a baggy t-shirt – Jason’s t-shirt. Further proving that she had been ripped from her bed and brought here against her will.

Jason completely controlled his reaction to seeing his girlfriend being held captive just 20 feet across from him. But in reality, his heart was about explode out of his chest.

Not this. Not her. Anything but her.

“What is this?” Jason asked, trying to sound as devoid of emotion as possible. The less she seemed to mean to him, the less Riddler would want to use her against him.

“I think you know exactly what this is, Red Hood.” Then Riddler practically skipped to Y/N’s side, who looked confused and terrified, clearly having no idea why any of this was happening to her of all people.

“Your quarrel is with me, Riddler. There’s no need to involve an innocent civilian.” Jason’s voice was cool and even.

But he ignored Jason and pulled a pistol out from the back of the waist.

Jason couldn’t remain calm any longer. He started struggling against the ties.

“Don’t worry. The fun has just begun. You get these three riddles right and I won’t hurt her – at least…not yet.”

But Jason was looking at Y/N. She was looking back at him, which did little to reassure her. She didn’t know who he was and his helmet wasn’t designed to comfort people.

“Hey, it’s gonna be OK.” He tried to tell her as softly as he could.

For some reason, she nodded. But Jason knew her well enough to see his words had little impact on her. Tears started streaming down her face and her entire body was shaking as she felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to her head.

“Shall we begin?” Riddler asked with a creepily joyful smile.

Jason waited. But as the Riddler was distracted, he was able to maneuver his arms to press the panic button on his wrist to send out a distress signal to the right people. It was his first time using it, always too proud or stubborn to ask for help.

But if Y/N was involved, none of that mattered anymore.

The Riddler’s eerie tone brought him back, “When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But if you do share me, you don’t have me.” He took in a deep breath. “What am I?”

Jason’s chest was heaving with anger. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve stayed away from Y/N. He was a curse, a disease. Anyone that got close to him just ended up in danger. And he should’ve known better than to think he could be happy without consequences.

“Clock’s ticking, Red Hood.” He cocked the gun. “What am I?”

“A secret,” Jason growled.

“Surprise, surprise. There does seem to be some semblance of a brain underneath that stupid helmet of yours.”

Y/N closed her eyes in relief, causing more tears to escape and slide down her cheeks.

“When you have me more, you can see only less. What am I?” The Riddler asked.

Jason thought on the next riddle as he tried to find one of his knives hidden in his sleeve. But even when he grabbed one, it would take far too long to cut through this thick rope that kept him tied down.

“Darkness,” Jason answered confidently.

The Riddler seemed annoyed now. “One more riddle and then we’ll move on to another game. Or maybe we won’t, if you get it wrong.” He shifted so he was directly behind Y/N and facing Jason as he pointed the gun at the back of her head.

“The person who built it, sold it. The person who bought it, never used it. The person who used it, never saw it.” He tilted his head. “What is it?”

Jason finally found the edge of a knife. He subtly started cutting at the ropes on the back of his chair, praying he could buy himself enough time to get him out.

The Riddler lifted the gun to the ceiling and shot it, causing Y/N to jump and let out a yelp.

“I’m waiting!” He snapped at Jason.

“A coffin!” Jason growled. “Put the gun down and let her go. You’ve had your fun.”

The Riddler laughed. “Oh, you think that this was the main attraction?” He put the gun down, but moved to grip Y/N’s chin roughly.

“Secrets, darkness, coffin,” Riddler listed the three answers aloud. Then he turned to Jason. “What do all of them have in common?”

Riddler moved back behind Y/N and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The feeling alone caused a chill to go down her spine. “You’ve been lied to, my dear. The decision to bring you here was not random at all. That I can promise you.”

“Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone,” he sang loudly, his voice echoing in the warehouse. Then he danced back to Y/N and pulled down the rag around her mouth, finally allowing her to speak.

“Red Hood, question for you. How many people have you killed?”

Don’t do this, Jason begged in his mind. 

He didn’t answer.

The Riddler didn’t appreciate this and quickly walked to Y/N, smacking her across the face with the back of his hand.

Jason struggled against his restraints.

Riddler whipped back to him. “Answer the question!”

“I don’t know,” he barked back.

“You don’t know because there’s so many?” Riddler challenged.

“I don’t keep track,” Jason answered quickly, knowing his silence would only cause Y/N more pain.

“More then 10?”

“Yes.”

“More then 50?” Riddler asked with an evil grin.

“Yes.”

Riddler turned to Y/N. “It’s actually 83.”

It was the first Jason had heard the number. But he knew better than to question it.

“You call yourself a hero. But looks to me like you’re just a murderer,” the Riddler cooed with a sneer. 

Jason hung his head in shame. “I’ve never called myself a hero.”

Riddler ignored his comment and turned his attention fully to Y/N now. “Now this next one is for you, dear. And it’s a tricky one.” The Riddler took in a deep breath. “I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many…or only just one.”

Y/N swallowed, repeating the words over and over again in her head.

“L-Love,” she finally stuttered out, but seemed sure of her answer.

The Riddler smiled at her response. He turned to Jason. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Red Hood.” Then he shifted his weight. “Or should I say Jason?”

Jason saw the confusion on Y/N’s face from the comment.

“Tell me dear, did you know you were in love with a murderer?”

Y/N was discombobulated by such a question.

But before she could figure it out, the Riddler rushed to Jason and ripped off his helmet. When he saw that Jason was wearing a domino mask underneath, he rolled his eyes. “All you bats and birds are so paranoid!” Then he ripped that off, too.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of her boyfriend.

But Jason didn’t catch it. He was too busy hanging his head, scared to meet her gaze.

“Surprised?” The Riddler asked her with glee.

Her tears started again. But they weren’t just from being scared now. They were tears of betrayal.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” the Riddler mocked.

“You did what you wanted. Now let her go,” Jason growled.

He tugged at his ropes, but his knife wasn’t cutting fast enough.

“Let her go?” The Riddler was baffled. “Who said anything about letting her go? I said I wasn’t going to hurt her if you cooperated. But killing her is the only way I can hurt you, Red Hood. Don’t worry, I shall make it quick!”

With that he raised his gun to her head once again. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, truly believing this is how she was going to die.

“NO!” Jason screamed.

But right before pulling the trigger, Riddler’s grip was knocked away by a batarang.

Jason felt sick with relief when he turned to see Batman and Robin making their way to the Riddler.

Riddler was not a fighter. He always made a run for it.

But when he turned to do so, he was met with Nightwing blocking his path.

Jason felt someone drop behind him and realized that Red Robin was getting rid of his restraints.

Riddler looked around him with crazed eyes, realizing he was about to be outnumbered five to one. “This is too many vigilantes for my liking. Time for backup.” He pulled out a button and pressed it before Dick could rip the unknown device from his hands.

An explosion erupted in the warehouse, catching everyone off guard.

Tim had just finally released Jason from his restraints when the impact hit.

Jason saw as Y/N’s chair was knocked off its legs, taking her to the floor with it. Her head slammed against the hard concrete floor.  

As soon as the explosion settled, Jason sprinted to her.

When he reached her, she was knocked unconscious. “Y/N! Come on, beautiful. You’re OK. You’re OK.” 

But the words were to convince himself. He felt for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief when it was still strong.

Ever so carefully, he untied the ropes that held her to the chair. He ripped his jacket off his body and wrapped it around her shoulders. She seemed so small like this – so vulnerable. He’d tried so hard to keep her away from this darkness. And seeing her like this was the horrid reminder for why he’d lied to her about who he was.

His family watched with concern as Jason stood with her limp body in his arms. By some miracle, the blast missed all of them. It was used as more of a distraction than as an attempt to take any of them out.

Jason slowly walked to Bruce.

“Take her. Please.” His eyes desperate at first, but then they darkened. “There’s something I have to do.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We had a deal.”

But he still gently took Y/N out of his arms.

“That was before her,” Jason answered as he took a final glance at Y/N.  

“Jason, don’t do it,” Dick urged.

“Keep her safe,” was all Jason said before turning from them and running after the man that had put his love in danger.

“What shall we do with her?” Damian asked coldly as he eyed the young woman he was seeing for the first time.

“We’re taking her back to the manor,” Bruce told his sons.

“Is that wise?” Damian countered.

“He’ll need her. And she’ll need to know everything,” was all Bruce said as he started carrying Y/N to the batmobile.

————————

Y/N wasn’t awoken by people screaming from the streets below or the garbage truck coming too early to throw every neighbor’s trash can around at 5AM. She couldn’t hear the blasting of her window unit air conditioning.

No, instead she heard birds chirping outside and the wind rustling countless trees.

Did she even have a single tree on her block?

She squinted her eyes open and the night came rushing back to her.

Goons storming into her apartment, ripping her from her bed and throwing a bag over her head. Y/N just remembered thinking, “I’m just glad Jason wasn’t here. At least he’s safe.”

But Jason was far from safe. He was Red Hood: the infamous anti-hero that half of Gotham thought was a murderer and the other half swore he was just as much of a hero as the the other masked vigilantes.

How did she not see it sooner?

The random cuts and bruises. Constantly missing dates. Late-night texts when she had already fallen asleep. Always being exhausted when he was present.

But it was easy to ignore all of this because when they were together, things were good – no, things were amazing.

No man had ever made Y/N feel more seen and loved and appreciated. In fact, before him, Y/N had come to terms with being alone for the rest of her life. She made peace with it, had no problem with it.

But then Jason came stumbling into her life. And he didn’t accept Y/N being unloved the way she did. It was the thing that made him get over his own self-hatred and constant need to punish himself. If he wasn’t going to love Y/N for him, then he’d love Y/N because that’s what she deserved.

And Y/N felt that.

But he wasn’t who she thought he was. He had lied to her over and over again. When she was concerned over his injuries, he made up story after story. When she asked where he’d been after skipping a date, he used work as an excuse.

Did Y/N actually know Jason Todd at all?

Or had she only seen what she wanted to see?

Did the man she love even exist?

These were the questions racing through Y/N’s mind as she awoke in a bedroom that she didn’t recognize. Bedroom – if that’s even what she could call it. It felt more like a palace. She’d never slept on softer sheets or a comfier mattress. The room was bigger than her entire apartment. And from what she could see in the ensuite bathroom, it looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

Y/N’s observations paused when she saw Red Hood’s leather jacket tossed on top of the fancy chaise lounge on the other side of the room. No, not Red Hood’s leather jacket. Jason’s. It was the only indication that he had been there.

Am I in Wayne Manor? Y/N asked herself.

At least Jason hadn’t lied about that, explaining his afflicted relationship with his family casually a few times. But in a way that always told Y/N he didn’t want to talk about it in depth.

The leather jacket then caused Y/N to look down at herself. She was wearing a white t-shirt and grey cotton sleep shorts. Clearly they were mens. Someone had changed her while she had been asleep – or…unconscious.

Fuck, her head really hurt.

Having enough of being confused, Y/N slipped out of the bed and decided she was going to hunt down an explanation.

The bedroom was placed in a long hallway. Taking a 50/50 chance, Y/N decided to go right instead of left.

She walked as quietly as possible, still feeling uncomfortable in such surroundings.

After she stepped down the most extravagant staircase she’d ever seen, she heard sounds come from around the corner. It sounded like movement in a kitchen.

When she reached a doorway, she saw an elderly man dressed as a butler. As he was cooking, he caught Y/N’s presence from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned and gave her a comforting smile.

“Ah! Ms. Y/L/N, your timing is impeccable. I was just finishing up breakfast.”

But she remained unsure of the situation.

“Oh, I do apologize. Where are my manners? I am Alfred Pennyworth.” He quickly stepped to her and offered his hand. “I am the butler for the Wayne family.”

“So…this is Wayne Manor?” Y/N asked after awkwardly shaking his hand in the doorway, completely forgetting to share her own name. But he cleary already knew it.

He smiled at her. “Yes, Master Wayne brought you here after last nights…theatrics.” Before either of them could discuss the “theatrics” he slyly mentioned, he pulled out a chair at the table in the kitchen. “Please, sit. You must be famished.”

This man hardly looked threatening, so she decided to follow his instructions.

Alfred quickly placed a large plate with a full English breakfast on it, a mug of steaming coffee, and a glass of water. Then he offered her a bottle of advil.

Y/N looked up at him with a curious glance.

“I can only assume your head is aching quite a bit. From what I was told, you took quite the fall from the explosion.”

At least Y/N knew she hadn’t imagined the nightmare. It was real. She quickly took two of the pills and chugged the glass of water.

Alfred didn’t hover, instead continuing to work on more breakfast.

But Y/N’s breakfast was quickly interrupted when Bruce Wayne walked into the kitchen.

He eyed her carefully, hiding his surprise at her being awake. Casually, he went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked her.

Y/N was surprised how genuine his concern sounded.

“Confused,” she blustered out without meaning to.

Bruce smirked. “I meant your head.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Ummm…just a terrible headache. But I think I’ll live.”

“Good.”

To her shock, Bruce sat across from her. He drank his coffee as his eyes raced across the tablet in his hand.

Y/N took a few bites of food before she had the courage to ask one of the many questions that were racing around her head.

“Where is Jason?” She asked slowly and carefully.

Alfred seemed to tense at the question and hesitated before saying, “Master Jason thought it best to give you some space.”

Y/N didn’t know what to make of his answer.

Bruce seemed to be studying her.

Y/N wanted to shrink under his scrutiny, but fought the feeling and met his gaze head on, as if challenging him.

“He’s in the cave,” Bruce told her evenly.

It seemed no one was trying to hide their family secrets from Y/N.

“I’d like to see him.”

Bruce and Alfred shared a look and what seemed to be a silent conversation.

After a moment, Bruce stood up. “I’ll take you.”

Y/N jumped out of her seat to follow him.

Next thing she knew, Bruce was taking her through a secret passage and there was a dark and dreary staircase in front of her.

Bruce gestured for her to go forward, silently telling her he wasn’t coming with.

As soon as Y/N started down the cold staircase, a shiver went down her spin. The temperature immediately dropped.

When she reached the bottom, she looked around and found Jason sparring with a man she recognized as Dick Grayson.

Jason did a double take as soon as Y/N took a step away from the staircase.

Dick followed his gaze and his face dropped.

The two men shared a look and their sparring ended.

Dick walked to her and gave Y/N a charming smile as he held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Dick.”

Y/N forced a shy smirk and shook his hand, but said nothing.

Now it was just Jason and Y/N.

Y/N’s arms tightly held herself because of the freezing temperature of the batcave, and because she didn’t know how this conversation was about to end.

“Hi,” Jason said awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“How’d you get down here?”

Y/N shrugged. “Bruce.”

Jason looked her up and down before quickly turning and grabbing the sweatshirt he had discarded before working out and sparring.

He handed it to her, making sure not to get too close. “Here. It gets fucking frigid in this stupid cave.”

Y/N quickly put it on. But she didn’t miss how Jason tried to keep his distance.

“I’m not scared of you,” she muttered.

He cocked an eyebrow, but she could still see the hurt in his face. “Really? Because you’re not looking at me like I’m the same person.”

“Because you’re not,” Y/N snapped.

Y/N imagined this conversation would be filled with rage. She thought she’d start yelling at Jason and then she wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d tell him how disappointed she was in him, how he was just like every other man who had hurt her. Her hands would be quivering in fists at her side. The anger…it would consume her.

So imagine her surprise when her bottom lip started trembling and tears started streaming down her face. And she could do nothing to stop it.

Little did she know that watching this hurt Jason more than her anger ever could.

He took a step toward her. It was his instinct – an instinct that was so hard to fight in this moment.

“You know…it’s really hard for me to let people in – no, it’s hard for me to let men in. I don’t trust them. I stop doing that a long time ago. But you – fuck – I don’t even know why now. But I did let you in. I really did. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. I trusted you. I…I loved you, Jason.”

Jason looked in more pain than ever before. His eyes watered from seeing the woman he loved breaking down like this. And it was no one else’s fault, but his own.

“But you hid this whole part of yourself. You lied to me. Every excuse you made for your bruises and cuts, you were lying. Every time you canceled a date, you were lying. And I’m realizing that you lied to me about your life more than you ever told me the truth.”

She tried to wipe away the tears, but they were coming down too fast.

“Was the Riddler serious?” She accused. “Have you killed all those people?”

“I have.”

Y/N studied him for a second. A part of her hadn’t expected him to admit it. She was waiting for him to give her another lie. After all, it came so naturally to him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She practically whimpered.

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I just…I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

Was there even anything he could say that would make her hate him less?

Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. And I should’ve kept you safe. You almost–” He felt sick. “You were almost killed last night. And it was because of me.”

Y/N’s eyes went dark. “Did you kill him? Did you kill the Riddler?”

Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands turned into fists at the mentioning of the criminal’s name. “No, but I should’ve.”

In truth, he almost had. It hadn’t been hard to catch up to the bastard. Jason beat him to in an inch of his death. But not before he confirmed that no one else knew of Y/N’s existence. No, he didn’t kill the Riddler. But he beat him so badly that he would be in the coma for the rest of his days – unable to speak, meaning no one else would ever know about Y/N.

“I don’t do that anymore. Bruce and I…we have a deal.”

“He’s Batman,” she wasn’t asking. “And your brothers…” she didn’t need to finish.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His head hung low. “I don’t deserve it. And I never deserved you in the first place. I always knew that. It’s probably why it was so hard to tell you. Because I knew the moment I did… you’d see me for the monster I really am.”

Y/N’s eyes were red now and her nose congested.

“You don’t owe me anything. But I just…I need to tell you this before I never see you again,” Jason quickly said, sensing this was their final goodbye. “I love you. I didn’t even think I could love someone the way I love you, Y/N. You…you’ve made me better. And you’re probably the only reason I was able to stop myself from killing that son of a bitch last night.”

It was Y/N’s face Jason saw when he was beating the Riddler. And then he realized, in some twisted way, that such a death would also be on her hands. He could handle having blood on his hands forever. But would never do that to Y/N.

Then Jason’s word turned so, so quiet. “But I also know I can’t ask you to stay after everything I’ve done to you.”

And for a moment, the two of them just stared at one another.

Y/N tried to wipe the last of her tears away once again. “I think I should go,” she mumbled.

“You can’t go back to your apartment. It’s not safe there anymore. Bruce offered to let you stay here for as long as necessary. I’ll leave,” he quickly added. “So you don’t have to worry about being around me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not staying here,” she said with a surprising amount of conviction. “I’ll stay with friends or something. But I don’t want to be here.”

What Y/N meant was that she didn’t want to be surrounded by the secrets Jason had kept from her. She didn’t want to be reminded of how little she actually knew him.

Somehow Jason seemed to realize that.

He took a cautious step toward her. “For what it’s worth, you do know me. I know you think that’s a lie. But no one sees me like you see me, Y/N. No one.” He pointed up. “Not even the fucked up people that call me their family.”

His words struck in a way she wasn’t expecting. But she made sure he didn’t know that and controlled her expression, staying as emotionless as possible.

Jason sighed, knowing this was their end. “Alfred will take you anywhere you want to go.”

He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to ask – no, to beg – to hold her. Just one last time. But he would never ask that of her. How could he?

So he just watched as Y/N slowly turned and made her way back of the stairs.

Jason wanted to memorize her face as if this was the last time he’d lay eyes on her. But he knew himself better than that. He’d make sure she was safe, add her to his patrol as if it was normal addition to his vigilante life. Y/N didn’t deserve to be at risk for the rest of her life because she made the mistake of loving a man like him.

————————

1 MONTH LATER.

————————

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be. She thought she could just go back to the life she had before Jason ever fought his way into her heart. But it took her a month to understand that was never going to happen. She’d never be able to just forget him.

She thought anger would take over and make her hate Jason. Hate was always easier than love. And Y/N was banking on that.

But after everything Jason did, Y/N still couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him.

Because, at the end of the day, they still loved each other.

Despite his secrets and his lies, Y/N knew that Jason had been telling the truth about his feelings for her. He really did love her. She had felt it every day. Even at the beginning of their relationship – before they realized what they were feeling was love – Y/N always felt how much Jason cared for her.

That was why all of this was so hard for her.

Take away the lies, the secret vigilante life, the killing. Take it all away. And Y/N knew she had never met another man that made her feel the way Jason did – or…had.

That was really what Y/N had finally realized over the past weeks. She had thought it was betrayal and fear. 

No. 

She now understood that what she was feeling was a broken heart. 

It was a first for her. One had to be in love in order to get their heart broken. And the only man Y/N ever loved was Jason Todd.

As the understanding washed over Y/N, she was staring out the window. She’d made herself a cup of coffee, but had been so lost in her thoughts that she’d let it grow cold. Then she felt a tickling down her cheek and realized that she had started crying. 

Suddenly there was a quick knock at the front door of her apartment.

Y/N squinted in suspicion at the sound and sloppily rubbed the tears off her face.

She slowly walked to door, but stopped a few feet away, and just stared at it as her heart rate increased.

After Riddler’s men broke into her home and ripped her from bed, she had been anxious and cautious about any and all unexpected visitors. She hadn’t been sleeping. Either she couldn’t fall asleep or if she did, her night was infested with nightmares.

“Y/N? It’s Dick Grayson,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

She let out a small sigh of relief. How long had she been holding her breath?

There was a part of her that was screaming to still ignore the uninvited guest, despite it being someone she knew. But how well did she actually know Dick Grayson?

Except the other part – the part that could admit she missed Jason – wanted to speak to anyone that was from the part of her life she was trying so hard to forget.

Ever so slowly, she opened the door.

“Hi,” Dick beamed at seeing her appear. His smile and eyes were warm and friendly in a way that none of the other boys were.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked with a bit of rudeness.

She didn’t appreciate him giving her a scare. Especially because her two best friends that she now lived with were out of town for the weekend.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” he gave her a shy but hopeful grin. Then he held up a tray of coffee and a paper baggie. “I brought you a latte and some doughnuts.”

Y/N eyed him. Her first thought was that maybe something had happened to Jason. But Dick’s delivery proved that wasn’t the case.

Her only invitation to Dick was a widening of the door and making room for him to walk past her.

This seemed to make him happy though.

Y/N directed them to the little breakfast nook that was flooded in the morning light.

She didn’t waste any time. “Did Jason send you here?” 

“No, Jason doesn’t know that I’m here,” Dick clarified as he slid one of the lattes to her side of the table.

Her nerves were the only reason she picked it up and started sipping, just trying to give herself something physical to do while Dick stared at her from across the little table.

“Is he OK?” She mumbled without looking at him.

Her pride wanted to her to shut up and not ask. But she couldn’t stop the question from spilling out, even though all evidence pointed to Dick having no bad news to share.

“He’s fine,” Dick quickly assured her. “Well…physically, at least.”

“What are you doing here, Dick?” She repeated her original question.

“It should be Bruce here, really. But he…” His words died out and then he cleared his throat. “Well, these types of things aren’t exactly his strong suit. Tim wanted to come, too. But I didn’t want to…overwhelm you.”  

“And what ‘type’ of thing is this exactly?”

Dick took in a deep breath and then leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

“You deserve to know the story – the whole story. I’m not here to get you to forgive Jason or to change your mind about leaving him.” He rubbed his face. “But I just want you to know the truth about him before you live with those decisions.”

Y/N’s heart was racing now. She felt sick.

Was she even ready for this conversation?

“So, is that OK?” Dick asked her carefully.

After a moment, Y/N finally nodded her head.

Dick took a deep breath.

He knew where he needed to start. And he wasn’t just about to share Jason’s secrets, he was about to tell Y/N all of their secrets. But it was what needed to be done.

Dick told her about Jason living on the streets, how his dad abused him, and his mother was a drug addict that couldn’t protect her son. Little Jason Todd turned to crime to take care of himself and get enough money to take care of himself and his mom.

Dick smiled as he told her how Jason tried to steel Bruce’s wheels on the batmobile. That was the moment that Bruce knew he couldn’t leave such a desperate child on the streets. Then everything happened so quickly. Next thing Dick knew, Jason had replaced him as Robin and Bruce had a new sidekick.

“I should’ve been there for him more,” Dick confessed. “Jason didn’t just need a home and a parent… he needed a brother, too. And I take responsibility for not really being there for him. If I’m being honest, I was bitter. It was hard for me to see how quickly Bruce could just…”

“Replace you?” Y/N offered softly.

Dick swallowed and nodded.

This was the hard part. Now he had to explain how Jason died, how the Joker tricked a child who was desperate to find the truth about his mother. How a dead boy became a resurrected man.

Dick knew he couldn’t gloss over the gory details. Jason deserved better. He didn’t need to have his secrets protected from the first woman who loved him. He needed to be seen and still loved.

Dick watched as Y/N shifted in her seat, trying her best to compose herself as Dick told her about Jason dying so horribly and then being resurrected. Joker’s maniacal laugh flashed in Y/N’s mind. As Dick spoke, she could almost feel the warmth of the explosion that he’d set for Jason. 

It was all so terrible.

How Jason was able to overcome it all left Y/N in awe of him.

“Jason has never really fully been himself since before…everything,” Dick said. “But it wasn’t fair that any of us ever expected that after what happened to him. I know there’s still so much that he’s never told any of us. And I’m not sure he ever will.”

Dick explained Jason’s rebellion from the family and his war with Bruce. Dick was the one that got emotional now, as his eyes glossed over, remembering how angry and ruthless Jason had been.

“Bruce has one rule: no killing.” Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “Jason thought he was being what Gotham needed. He was tired of watching criminal after criminal beat the system and repeatedly get set free. We eventually had to make a deal with him. We couldn’t stand by and let him continue on the way he was.”

Dick gave her a nervous look. “I can only assume that the hardest thing to wrap your mind around is the–”

“Killing,” Y/N quickly interrupted harshly.

Until now, she had remained quiet but engaged. Never interrupting or adding unnecessary responses.

“Yes,” Dick replied before tightening his jaw.

Y/N couldn’t look at him now. “I know–” She had to pause because her voice was shaking so much. “I know he did it to protect people. And I know – in his mind – that they deserved it, because they were bad people.”

“I might not agree with Jason’s views or his past actions. But one thing is for sure: Jason Todd has never killed an innocent.”

“I just don’t know if that’s enough,” Y/N said with teary eyes.

“I understand,” Dick nodded.

There had been a part of her that always knew Jason was fighting demons. But she could’ve never guessed how bad it had truly been for him.

How could he hide all of this from her?

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. After hearing Jason’s life story, how could she? Tears silently ran down her face. She wasn’t embarrassed to cry in front of Dick. He had such a calming presence about him.

Dick just let her consume everything he’d spent the past hour telling her. He just wanted to be there for her as she processed it.

So he sat there and let her cry. And eventually she got a hold of herself.

“You’re forgetting the most important part of this story,” Dick told her with a shy smile.

“I am?”

Dick nodded. “You.”

She scoffed at that.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” Dick leaned forward again.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t one to share her emotions and feelings freely. So she wasn’t about to open up to her ex’s older brother, whom she hardly knew.

“He loves you, Y/N.” Dick insisted.

“None of you even knew about me,” Y/N tried to argue.

“That’s not true. Just because he didn’t tell us directly doesn’t mean we didn’t know about you.” Dick smirked. “We’re a nosey bunch. When we noticed a change in him – a good change – we did a little investigating.”

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to tell Dick that Jason made her change for the better too.

So she changed the subject to what was really stopping her from running back into Jason’s arms despite all the lies and secrets.

“How did you get over it?” Her voice was so quite that it was almost a whisper.

“Get over what?” Dick squinted.

“The killing.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Police Officers kill people every day.”

Y/N made a look of disgust. “Law enforcement in this country is corrupt. I figured a man who felt the need to wear a mask and become a vigilante was well aware of that.”

Dick winced. “Why do you think Gotham is so hard to clean up?”

She stayed quiet.

“Soldiers have killed more people on a single tour than Jason has,” Dick continued.

“Soldiers are following orders,” Y/N countered. “Orders from authority whose ethics and motives are often questionable.”

“Exactly.” Dick’s back straightened. “We’ve normalized both of those things. But I can assure you of one thing, Jason has no ulterior motives. There is no systemic prejudice that controls his actions. Just right and wrong, good and evil.”

Then he rubbed his face, wondering if he wanted to say the next part. “When things with Jason were bad – really bad – and I thought I would have to be the one that put him behind bars, the one thing that gave me hope was knowing that Jason had rid the world of evil. That doesn’t mean I condone his actions…but it helps me sleep at night.”

Silence filled the apartment. Y/N was still processing the information. And Dick didn’t want to force her to talk or speak just to fill the silence.

Slowly, Dick rose from his seat.

“I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have,” he told her gently.

There were those classic Wayne manners that both Bruce and Alfred had ingrained in him. It reminded Y/N of Jason. Even though Jason had a dark, sarcastic sense of humor and quite the temper, Y/N couldn’t remember a time when the man didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ – not to mention all the old-school gentlemanly gestures that always caught her off guard.

Y/N followed Dick to the door.

He hesitated. “Thank you for listening, Y/N.”

She just nodded.

“Like I said when I got here, I’m not telling you what to do. All I ask is that you consider everything you learned.”

She nodded again. “You’re a good brother, Dick.”

He chuckled darkly at that. “Jason would disagree with you on that. I’m lucky if he even calls me his brother most of the time.”

Y/N managed to force a shy smirk on her lips for his benefit.

Then Dick was reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper. He slowly handed it over.

She looked down to see what appeared to be an address. “What’s this?”

“The safe house Jason’s been hiding out in since you last talked.” Then he gave her one final nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

————————————— 3 WEEKS LATER. —————————————

Jason had been on autopilot these past couple of months. He let his work take over his life. To make matters worse, he barely added eating and sleeping to that mix. The only reason he managed to get himself to eat was to keep his strength up… so he could keep working.

Right now was the one of the few times his exhaustion was so heavy that he managed to get a couple hours of sleep.

That is until one of the alarms for his safe house went off.

Someone had triggered the sensor for the floor.

It could easily be a homeless person. It wouldn’t be the first time. But that assumption went on the window when Jason heard a polite knock at his front door.

Completely silent, Jason moved out of bed and grabbed the gun that sat on his nightstand.

Quickly he tiptoed to the door and waited, half expecting someone to start shooting. It wouldn’t have mattered, seeing as the door was made out of bulletproof steel.

Without making a sound, he made his way to the peephole.

When he spotted who was on the other side, his body moved on reflex alone. He instantly put the gun on safety and whipped open the door.

His guest jumped a little in surprise.

“Y/N,” Jason gasped.

Once she got over the scare, she seemed to take in his appearance.

Jason looked awful. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair looked greasy from the lack of washing. And because he was “working” so much, his body was littered in more injuries than usual. He stood completely shirtless in black boxer briefs.

But the only thing Jason was embarrassed about was his autopsy scar that was on full display for her.

Yes, Y/N had seen and felt it. But it was always in the cover of darkness. If they had sex in daylight, Jason always found a way to keep a shirt on. It was always effortless and subtle. Plus Y/N was so preoccupied with the passion between them that she never really considered how self-conscious he was about it.

Once again, Y/N was wondering why she normalized things like that instead of pushing Jason to open up about things he was obviously hiding.

She had assumed they were scars from his childhood. He had told her his dad was abusive and his mom did nothing to protect him. Y/N thought the scars were from an incident – an incident that was too traumatizing for him open up to her about.

But they were autopsy scars… Because Jason had died once.

“Did I wake you?” She asked him gently.

“No,” he quickly lied. Then he shook his head, still processing that she was standing in front of him. “Come in,” he hurriedly added.

She game him a grateful nod and walked past him.

Her eyes quickly took in the safe house. It looked like an industrial loft. But what she was really locking on to was the multiple tables covered in weapons and gear.

After all that time of Jason’s vigilante life being hidden, now it was all completely on display for her to see.

“Are you OK?” Jason quickly asked her.

She nodded.

“How is your new place?” He then asked.

“Fine,” she offered.

“Your roommates are OK?”

She nodded again.

“Are you sleeping alright?”

“Jason,” she said it sternly, in a tone that she knew would make him finally stop with the frantic questions. “I came to talk to you.”

This took him aback.

Then he looked around him. There was a fold out table a few feet away from them.

“Here,” he muttered before rushing forward and moving what appeared to be a dozen knives and multiple guns.

He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned for her to sit.

Then Jason seemed to finally realize his state of undress. “I’ll…just give me a second.”

Y/N would’ve laughed at his adorable franticness. But she was too busy feeling nauseous and anxious.

She turned her back to him changing since the loft style gave little privacy. 30 seconds later, Jason was moving back to the table and sitting across from her in a black hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N gently cleared her throat. Her gaze couldn’t meet Jason’s as she said, “Dick came to see me.”

Jason’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. I’ll ta–”

“No, it’s fine.” Then she shifted in her seat. “He came to…uhh…he came to talk to me about you, actually.”

That wasn’t what Jason was expecting.

“He told me everything,” she stated. “I mean, everything you never did.”

The true meaning of her words slowly washed over Jason.

He leaned back in his chair, his massive form making it squeak.

Y/N took in a shaky breath. “Jason…I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He shifted his weight.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” He told her quietly.

Usually Jason’s death and resurrection was a joke. He loved making his family cringe, shrink, and become uncomfortable with his dark humor about it. That was just how he’d grown to deal with it all.

But he couldn’t do the same for Y/N.

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“I miss you,” Y/N finally told him.

Jason’s eyes widened at the confession. “I miss you, too.”

Silence again.

“Was I just part of a cover?” She quickly asked him.

“No,” he immediately answered.

“Was our relationship even real?”

“Yes, Y/N. I promise you that it was.”

Y/N bit her lip. She came here with no plan. And now it was starting to feel very real. She knew what she needed to know and she knew what she needed to say. But she wasn’t sure how to get there.

“Do you still love me?” She whispered.

Jason flinched at the question – not because of the answer, but because she felt the need to even ask it.

He nodded.

“After everything that’s happened,” she began, “what would a relationship between us even be, Jason?”

This was not the follow-up question he was expecting.

“What do you want it to be?”

But what he really wanted to say was it could be anything she wanted. He would do absolutely anything to get her back. Anything.

Still, he didn’t want to push her. So he let her take the lead.

“No more lies,” Y/N demanded. Jason opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I know you can’t tell me the details of the nightly occurrences from your…other life.”

“It was to keep you safe,” he tried to explain. “The less you know, the safer you are. No one can try to use you for information.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I’m saying no more lies about where you are or why you can’t make something. And no more hiding injuries.”

Jason nodded firmly, trying to mask his eagerness.

“But more importantly…No more lies about your past. Dick may have told me everything he knew. But I know there’s missing parts and it’s only his perspective.” Then she hesitated, “And I’d…I’d like to hear it from you.”

Jason felt sick by the idea. He thought maybe he’d gotten out of such a request because of his nosey brother.

“You might not like what you find…” he warned her.

But Y/N was already shaking her head. “You know me inside and out.”

Jason did a weird half shrug, half nod. “I like to think so.”

“Don’t you think I deserve the same?”

Jason knew he had a point. But he loved everything about her. Y/N’s flaws weren’t even flaws to him. They were just what made her the woman she was. And that so happened to a woman he was deeply in love with.

But his sins? They were what convinced him that he was unlovable – a monster.

“You do,” Jason agreed with a mumble.

Y/N struggled to swallow with how dry her throat had suddenly become. “You had made a deal with your family – a deal you almost broke because of me.”

Jason knew what she was really asking. She didn’t even really know what she wanted.

“You want to know about the people I’ve killed,” he said low and even.

But she didn’t answer.

Jason leaned forward on the table and thought over her request. He rubbed the scruff on his jawline and chin.

“One was a man who was trying to rip down the pants of 5 year old girl in an alley of the Narrows.” His expression and tone was numb as he started listing them. “Another was an abusive husband that pushed his pregnant wife down a flight of stairs, causing her to have a miscarriage and almost die.”

Y/N felt sick as she listened.

“The last person I killed was Gotham’s number one human trafficker. When I asked him – with a gun to his head – how he had such a lack of remorse, he said, ‘These sickos are going to find their fun one place or another, I might as well make a buck off it.’”

Y/N could tell as Jason shared these stories that he felt no remorse for his executions.

“Bruce would tell you that every one deserves a chance to change. Or he’ll tell you that we’re not the law, we’re just enforcing it.” Jason shook his head. “But I’ve seen thousands of rapists, murderers, and – god knows what else – get freed time and time again. They may get locked up for a bit, but most of them find their way back on the streets. The system is broken. I know it. You know it. And Bruce knows it.”

Then his eyes darkened. “And before you ask, I wouldn’t take any of it back. Truthfully, I believe the world is a better place without those fuckers in it.”

As harsh as it sounded, Y/N appreciated the honesty. And perhaps there was a part of her that agreed with him. 

Jason was right: she did know the system was broken, just as much as he did. But she wasn’t in a position to execute the same justice as he could.

“Can I ask you something in return?” The softness in his voice surprised Y/N.

She nodded her head.

“That morning at the manor…you said you weren’t scared of me.” He paused. “Were you telling the truth?”

“I wasn’t scared of you – at least, not like you’re implying. I felt–” She searched for the right word. “Defenseless. Because you knew me, but I didn’t know you anymore. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. “And what about now? After knowing all I’ve done.”

To his surprise, Y/N reached across the table and gently grabbed one his hands. She held it in her grasp, tracing the lines in his palm. The skin was rough and scarred.

After so long without it, the feeling of her touch caused a shiver to go down Jason’s spine. 

Y/N knew these hands had killed dozens of people. But she also knew that they’d been nothing but gentle with her.

“You’ve never hurt me, Jason.”

“I never would,” he answered quietly, almost with a certain desperation.

She nodded, already knowing that.

“No matter what happens with us, I don’t ever want you to be scared of me, Y/N.”

Then she was crying and jumped from her seat. Without even thinking, she was on the other side of the table, throwing herself onto Jason’s lap, and wrapping her arms around him. Jason pulled her even tighter to him, cradling her face to his neck.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just…I just want you back. OK?”

Y/N pulled away and Jason wiped the tears from her cheeks. She nodded and gave him a teary smile, “OK.”

Their relationship wouldn’t mend itself just like that. They were going to have to work at it. But with all their secrets on the table, they knew what they were fighting. And from now on, they were going to face them together.

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

Yeesh. That one was a lot. 

Let me know what you think!

(If you have criticisms about how I wrote Jason, I’d love to hear them, just don’t be a fucking asshole about it. There’s a right way to give feedback and there’s definitely a wrong way.)

#jason todd #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batfam #batman fandom #batman fic

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

I would love to see Harry jealous because his wife give a man ( Kindergarten teacher ) a compliment that he deals really well with Stevie.

this got kind of long oops, hope you like it :)

it's kind of cute

warnings: none

word count: 2k

“Time to go, Stevie!” You called, adjusting your coat in the mirror by the door. “Come get your shoes!”

You heard her feet pattering on the hall floor before Harry yelled, jumping out at her and scooping her up. She screamed in delight, laughing as he hoisted her onto his shoulders.

“Look at me!” She yelled, holding her arms out to her sides. “I’m so tall!”

“You are,” you laughed. “Is my tall girl ready to go?”

“I think our tall girl needs some shoes first,” Harry said, lifting her down. “The pink ones or the yellow ones?”

She thought intently before picking up the yellow shoes. She beamed when she got them on the right feet on the first try.

“Good job!” Harry said, reaching down to high-five her. Shoes were a tricky thing to learn. There had been a lot of struggling, but she was finally getting the hang of it.

She smiled, jumping up from the floor. Harry held her coat, helping her slip her arms into the sleeves.

“Let’s go! Come on, mom,” She said, bouncing on her feet. “Go faster!”

“Yeah, mum, hurry up,” Harry said jokingly. You shot him a look, opening the door so Stevie could run to the car.

Harry put his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the car.

“She’s getting so big,” he commented. “Why can’t she just stay our little baby?”

“Very unfortunate,” you sighed. You made sure Stevie was settled before getting in and buckling your own seatbelt. Harry got in the driver’s seat, starting the car.

“I’m in the mood for some Moana,” he said, handing you his phone before he pulled out of the driveway. “What do you think, Stevie?”

“Moana!” She yelled, eyes lighting up.

You shared a smile with Harry as she began belting out the lyrics.

“I wonder where she got her singing voice?”

“No idea,” he laughed.

-----

He pulled into the school parking lot, stopping the music to grandly announce, “We’re here!”

Stevie gasped in excitement, already fidgeting with her seatbelt. Harry opened her door for her, holding her hand so she could jump down. You took her other hand, swinging her arms between you as you walked toward the school.

“Alright, Stevie, where are we going?” You asked, even though you knew where her classroom was.

“Yeah, we don’t know where it is, you have to help us!” Harry said excitedly. “Lead the way, princess!”

Stevie let go of your hands as she marched down the hall.

“Look at her, so grown up,” he said sadly, taking your now empty hand in his.

“I know, she’s practically an adult. Oh, she’s going to be in middle school soon, and then high school, and then college, and then she’ll be gone,” you said, getting emotional already.

“Wait, wait, we can’t get ahead of ourselves yet, this is a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, we have a few years.”

“Right, you’re right,” you smiled.

“Here it is!” Stevie announced, pointing at the door, which was decorated to look like a box of crayons.

“Oh, how cute!” You said, noting that each crayon was labeled with a student’s name. “Stevie, you’re the yellow one! It matches your shoes!”

“I know!” She said excitedly. “That’s why I wore them!”

“Very smart, Stevie. Very fashionable,” Harry said, ruffling her hair.

He opened the door, allowed both of you to walk in ahead of him.

“Hello! Hi Stevie, it’s good to see you!” Her teacher said, waving you over to his desk.

“Hi Mr. Jeffery!” She said, running over to him. “Is it here?”

“Of course it is! It’s right over there on the drying rack, if you want to show your mom and dad,” he said, pointing across the room.

She ran in the direction he pointed. When she came back, she was carrying a painting of a butterfly.

“Did you make that?” Harry asked, crouching down to inspect her artwork. “Wow, this is amazing, love! We’ll put this on the fridge so everyone can see it,” he promised, smiling.

“Yes, Stevie loves our art projects, don’t you?” Mr. Jeffery asked, smiling when she nodded enthusiastically.

“I have to talk to your mom and dad for a few minutes, Stevie. What would you like to do while we talk?”

“Color!” She said, shoving the butterfly painting into Harry’s arms.

“Alright, do you remember where the crayons are?”

“Yes I do!” She ran over to the art section, busying herself immediately.

“Yes, she’s very into art,” You said, smiling as you and Harry settled into the chairs behind Mr. Jeffery’s desk.

“I’ve noticed! She’s taken a particular interest in painting. Does she do a lot of that at home?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry laughed. “Y/N isn’t so happy with that, though, she’s ruined quite a few shirts.”

“We try to steer her towards more... dry activities,” you said, smiling.

“Well, that’s understandable,” Mr. Jeffery laughed, clicking around on his computer. “So, today I just want to talk about her progress. As you probably know, she does extremely well in several areas. She can do some sight reading, which is not something we see very often at this age. She is also doing very well with her numbers, colors, and shapes.”

Harry beamed as Mr. Jeffery laid out how well Stevie was doing. Of course, he already knew she was the most amazing child in the world, but it was nice to have outside validation.

“That’s great, we tried to expose her to as much reading as we could, we really wanted her to be prepared,” you said.

“You did an excellent job,” he smiled, looking at you.

Harry didn’t like this, even though he knew it was this man’s job to reassure and praise parents. He just didn’t like the way he looked at you. He was smiling a little too much.

“Yes, we did,” Harry said, leaning a little closer to you. He looked at the teacher with a face that was just a little less than friendly.

Mr. Jeffery cleared his throat, turning back to his computer.

“As for her social skills, she is also doing very well there. Aside from the normal kindergarten spats, she has no issues getting along with the other children. She communicates very well with the other teachers and myself. We really don’t have any problems,” he smiled again, this time making sure not to look at you for too long.

“Looks like we did a good job,” you beamed, nudging Harry. His intimidating face dropped and he smiled as he took your hand.

“Look at us go,” he said, looking across the room to where Stevie was still coloring.

“You’re very good with her,” you said, following his gaze. “I know she can be a handful sometimes,” you laughed, turning slightly to Mr. Jeffery.

Harry’s jaw tightened when he saw your face. He knew you were smiling from looking at Stevie, but he still didn’t like how happy Mr. Jeffery looked. He squeezed your hand a little tighter, causing you to shoot him a confused look. He kept his eyes fixed on Stevie, willing himself to stay calm. Y/N hasn’t done anything wrong, he reminded himself.

“No, she’s usually very well behaved,” he said, flipping through his notes. “Again, we’ve had very few problems.”

“I’m glad to hear,” you said, running your other hand up and down Harry’s forearm.

“Well, that’s all I have for you today, unless you have any other questions?” He asked, looking you and Harry. You looked at him, both shaking your heads at the same time.

“I think we’re good,” you said, turning back to him with a smile.

“Alright, well it was good to see you today,” Mr. Jeffery said, standing to shake hands with you. Harry watched intently, not blinking until the man pulled away from you. When he reached for him, Harry made sure to squeeze a little tighter than necessary. Not too hard. Just enough to make him nervous.

“If you have any more questions, please feel free to contact me,” he said, smiling tightly.

“Yes, we’ll do that,” Harry said, not breaking eye contact. Finally, Mr. Jeffery stepped away to get Stevie. Harry moved his arm to rest over your shoulders again, smiling at Stevie when she skipped over.

“Did you make us a pretty drawing?” He asked, removing his arm to bend down. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he beamed. “Another one for the fridge, I think!”

Stevie giggled, taking your hand as she turned to wave at her teacher.

“Bye Mr. Jeffery! See you later,” she said, completely unaware of how tense Harry was behind her.

Harry placed his hand on your back, shepherding you both out of the room. Once the door was closed, you stepped away to look at him.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concerned at how tight his face was. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Harry shook his head, flicking his eyes towards Stevie, trying to communicate not now.

You frowned, but silently agreed, taking his hand as you walked down the hall.

Harry was quiet the entire ride home. He didn’t sing along to the Disney music, even when Stevie yelled out “everybody!” before the big chorus. This was concerning. He usually sang even when Stevie didn’t want him to, and he could normally never resist her cheering him on. Something was definitely wrong, but you could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now.

It couldn’t be that bad, though, because he was still holding your hand like he had been since you left Mr. Jeffery’s room. He had only let go of you when you had to get in the car.

Once you got home, Stevie ran off to her room, yelling something about “a tea party with Mr. Snuffles!”

“Harry?” You asked gently, approaching your husband. His back was facing you and his hands were braced against the counter. “Harry, really, what happened? Did I do something?”

“No,” he turned around quickly. “No, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for you. You wrapped your arms around him, listening to his deep breathing as he held you.

“Ok, then what’s the problem? You looked so mad when we were talking to Mr. Jeffery,” you said. “What?” You asked again when felt him tense up at your words.

“Nothing, it’s just- it’s stupid,” he said, shaking his head.

“Harry, nothing that upsets you this much is stupid.”

“It’s just- ugh,” he groaned, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck. “I just hated how he looked at you.”

“You- what?” You said, pulling back. He looked at you, embarrassed.

“I told you it’s stupid,” he said, blushing. “I just didn’t like how you were talking to him, saying how good he was with Stevie, and how happy he looked. I don’t know, it’s dumb,” he mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Hey, come on,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “I don’t think it’s dumb.”

“No?” He asked, looking at you again.

“No, it’s not,” you said, smiling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“It’s not cute,” he said grumpily. “I feel like a child.”

“You’re not a child,” you promised, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Maybe a little immature, but-“

“You’re so mean!” He exclaimed, laughing. “I’m so nice to you, and you repay me how? By hurting my feelings.”

“I’m sorry,” you smiled, kissing his cheek again.

“I’ll forgive you,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “But only if you give me a kiss.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #stevie #stevie fics #one direction #one direction fanfiction #dad!harry

[itsallyscorner]

I don’t know if it’s too much to ask, but when you’re done with all your requests, can you please do a part 2 of getting to know you?❤️

Hello darling!💕 Thank you for the request and I’m so sorry it took me so long; I was waiting for Cherry to come out to write this and I also have time to finally write. I hope you like it!💕 *CHERRY SPOLIERS*

A/n: Hello my loves! I just wanted to say that these kind of fics are the closest I will get to writing for Cherry. I will not be writing about the characters in the story, I will only be writing about the filming process, working with Tom, etc. Now that I mentioned that, I wanted to let you all know that this is going to be a bit more of a happier fic! I see a lot of people writing about the hard parts of filming Cherry so I thought why not have a little fun one? I’m sure they had some laughs on set, I briefly remember Ciara and Tom mentioning it. But yeah that’s all, enjoy the fic! Ally xx

💌.

I’m Really Happy You’re Here

(GIF @thollandgifs )

Tom watched you from a distance. From where he was, he could hear the sound of your bubbly laugh and see that bright smile on your face. Your smile was contagious. The way your eyes crinkled at the ends and how your smile squished into your cheeks was something he’s grown fond of over the past eight weeks. Though the difference from the previous weeks was that your cheeks were fuller and the bleak expressions of Emily did not shadow your face anymore.

The last eight weeks of filming have been rough. Both on you and him, along with the rest of the cast and crew. Having to begin filming with the ‘Dope Life’ section of the movie was not a pleasant way of starting a months long project. He felt drained after every shoot, spending his time on set crying, kicking, and screaming. Not to mention he was also starving himself to enhance the ‘druggy’ look on his features. After those eight weeks they had to transition into the part of Cherry’s life where he’s falling in love with Emily. The transition from being an addict to becoming a lovesick college student was a tricky one for Tom. The sudden switch in the film’s dynamic, made Tom doubt himself. From the intense scenes and screaming to being all loving and sweet, he was self-conscious that he was not doing enough. Though you were quick to debunk his doubts. You kept your promise of being there for him and gave him the freedom to be vulnerable. You didn’t judge him, you listened to him ramble and understood the struggles he was facing. Because of this, you helped him through the transition of druggy to lovesick college student. 

It wasn’t hard to act like he was falling in love you. You have been so supportive and patient with him during the previous weeks that he’s grown to adore you. On and off set you made sure he knew you were not only his co-worker but his friend. When he had a rough day, you were there to pick him up. Or that one time when he had a bit of a panic attack and you were instantly by his side to guide him out of it. There were many reasons as to why you are so dear to him, he could have gone on for days listing them. But overall, it was your lovable nature that lured him in since the very beginning he’s met you.

He felt like Cherry in that one scene you guys shot in the classroom. The one where he’s gazing at Emily and admiring her features. Except you didn’t stare back at him, instead you were having a very animated conversation with your makeup artist and one of the stylists. You were dressed in Emily’s clothes, white stockings, a jean skirt, and that cherry pink jacket with flowers embroidered onto it. He thought you looked so adorable and carefree kicking around leaves with your brown ankle boots and playfully swinging your arms around. Tom felt his lips unconsciously twitch upwards at the sight of you.

Harry, who had been eyeing his older brother, nudged him roughly. Tom whips around to look at him, sending him a glare for rudely interrupting his train of thought.

“What?” Tom hissed.

Harry smirked, motioning to you, “(Y/n) looks really pretty today.” Tom distinctly squints an eye at Harry before looking over his shoulder. The glare for his brother softening once you come into view.

“I mean, doesn’t she always? She’s a beautiful woman.”

“And you’re absolutely whipped.” Harry remarked with a smug grin on his face.

“So I can’t call someone beautiful without being absolutely whipped for them now?” Tom retorted crossing his arms. Harry raised his hands up defensively, “You can mate, chill. I’m just saying that because you’re literally staring at her with a stupid love haze in your eyes.”

“No I’m not.” Tom scoffed, hoping to get his brother off his case. Harry stared at him blankly and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, they want you on your mark.”

The filming location was a secluded park located somewhere in Cleveland. The park was set up to appear as a cemetery, gray gravestones were placed on the ground and gothic statues scattered the place. The scene was supposed to be a meaningful one for Cherry and Emily. Emily was going to be telling Cherry about her abusive father and he was going to tell her he loved her.

Tom sat on the grass and leaned against the stone statue where his mark was located. He looked around his surroundings in curiosity. A few feet away from him was the crew, the Russos, and a tent that sheltered the monitors. He breathed in, wallowing in the crisp air of Cleveland’s autumn weather. It was a bit chilly, but not to the point where you were shivering and left with chattering teeth. The vintage looking jacket he was given and the black beanie on his head was enough to keep him warm. His eyes continued to wander around the park, shifting along the trees and studying the clusters of yellow and orange.

“Hey you.” Your gentle voice breaks through the quiet murmurs of nature and the crew surrounding him. Tom’s eyes instantly set themselves upon your figure, their focus on you and only you. The trees and cameras behind you faded in the background. His gaze followed your figure as you moved to sit beside him.

“Hey.” His voice is soft making you hum in response. Being the gentleman he was, Tom held out his hand to help you sit on the ground. You quietly thank him. He watches as you rest your head against the stone and shut your eyes.

“Still sleepy?” He chuckles nudging your shoulder. You giggle along, lazily nodding. Your eyes open again and he’s met with your stunning (eye color) orbs. They were bright and filled with joy even though you were clearly tired.

You turn your head to the side to face him, “I barely got any sleep last night.”

Tom’s brows drew together in concern, “Why didn’t you get any sleep?”

“I may or may not have watched The Nun by myself last night.” You cringed. Tom let out a dramatic gasp, “Darling, why would you do that to yourself?”

“I was bored and I couldn’t find anything else to watch. I thought watching a horror movie would be a good idea, but I was wrong.” You explained, shaking your head at yourself. You breathed out a laugh, remembering how terrified you were the night before.

Tom joined you, also shaking his head. “Why didn’t you ask Harry and I to join? We could’ve watched it for movie night. Then you wouldn’t have to be alone and you’d have two body guards to protect you from the scary nun.” He teased you poking your side. You squeaked and swatted his finger away.

“You guys were going out for dinner. I thought you might want to have some quality time with your brother.” You stifled a yawn, your nose scrunching after, making Tom pout at your sleepy state. He glanced in front of him to see everyone still occupied in side conversations. The Russos were haunched behind the tent discussing things about the scene.

Tom turns back to you and motions to his lap. You give him a questioning look. You glance at his lap, not completely understanding him. Tom followed your stare, realizing that you were probably getting the wrong message.

“Oh! No—I meant that you could sleep on my lap or something. I don’t think we’re gonna start filming for a few more minutes, so I thought you might want to squeeze in a little nap.” He explained, words jumbling together in panic. Your heart swelled at how sweet Tom was.

The two of you were silent, staring at each other before bursting out in laughter. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, fingers holding his temples, “God, I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.”

You chuckled resting your head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, you had good intentions.” When your laughs die down, you look up at him. “Does your offer for the nap still stand? I think I can use it.”

“Of course it does.” Tom shifts so there’s space on his thigh for you to rest your head on. He helps you lay down, fixing your hair so it’s not in your face. He leaves a hand to play with the strands, mesmerized at how luscious it was. He notices that he’s probably invading your space and pulls his hand away, apologizing.

You make a noise of disagreement, pulling his hand back. “It’s ok, feels nice.” You mumble, eyes closing and a content expression on your face. Tom played with your hair; being careful to not tangle any strands or pull on them too hard. He couldn’t help but study your features. To name a few, he took the time to memorize the way your lashes brushed against your cheeks, the shape of your nose, and the curve of your lips. Your lips. They looked remarkably soft and had a tint of pink to them. Tom found his eyes flickering down at your lips the most than your other features.

He was so caught up in admiring you that he didn’t notice the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m really happy you’re here.”

Your eyes snap open dancing with amusement. A toothy grin forms on your mouth.

“Did you just quote the movie?” You question him, referring to the previous scene you were both shooting a couple of days ago. Tom becomes flustered, the blood rushing to his fair cheeks.

“Yes, shut up.” He muttered, bouncing his thigh, causing your head to loll to the side. You giggle elbowing his stomach. “Well were you practicing your lines? ‘Cause they’re for the wrong scene, Tommy.” You tease him.

Tom playfully rolls his eyes and looks down at you. His hands were still tangled in your hair, the soft strands like silk in between his fingers. “No, I know that—but I’m serious. I’m really happy you’re here with me. I know I’ve told you this so many times but I can’t imagine filming this movie with anyone else. And you’ve been so loyal and trusting, I feel so comfortable with you. You’ve always had my back and I’m really thankful for that. So thank you for—being you.”

You give him a lopsided grin, “You know, you don’t have to always thank me. We made a promise to always have each other’s back. I’m one to keep my word but at the same time you’re my friend, Tom. I’m not being nice to fulfill a promise, I genuinely care about you.” Tom beams while you continue.

“It honestly goes both ways, I should also be thanking you. The beginning of filming was very taxing and somehow you’ve made it bearable for me to come into work not worrying about losing my shit on everyone. So thank you, Tom.” You finish, reaching out to interlock your fingers with his free hand.

Tom sighs happily, “I guess we’re just happy to have each other, huh?”

“Yeah.” You agree, eyes trained on the way his giant hand enveloped yours. A peaceful silence lays upon the both of you. The melody of birds chirping and the sound of Tom’s breathing fill the air as you drift off to sleep.

Bonus:

Tom feels your hand loosen in his grip, your interlocked fingers resting on your stomach. He felt your stomach steadily raising up and down to the pace of your breathing. His hands remained where they were; one playing with your hair and the other holding one of your hands.

Joe approaches the both of you, gesturing to the position you and Tom were in. Though you were unaware, napping on Tom’s lap.

“Is this how you guys want to film the scene? We were gonna have you sitting beside each other instead.” Joe stood above you and Tom with his hands on his hips.

“I think this is actually better—don’t get me wrong, sitting beside each other and cuddling is pretty affectionate. But I think having someone rest their head on your lap is another level of intimacy.” Tom reasoned. He wanted to extend the amount of time you could ‘nap’ but he also thought the scene would be much better if your head was cradled on his lap. Personally, he believed it would show the audience how comfortable Cherry and Emily were with each other.

Joe nods his head, “Yeah, I get what you mean. I think I like that better, to be honest. What do you think, (Y/n)? Is Tom’s lap comfortable enough for you to shoot a few scenes on?” Joe asks, teasing you towards the end. He’s met with no response. He raises a brow at you, “Is she asleep?”

“Yup, long night.” Tom chuckled, running his hand through your hair soothingly.

Joe chuckles as well, “Is she all good though?”

“Oh, she’s fine. She just watched The Nun by herself and couldn’t catch any sleep after.” Tom reassured him.

“Ahh, alright.” Joe snickers, moving to make his way back to the crew. “She’s got a good 10 to 15 minutes to squeeze in a nap, monitors are acting up.”

“Gotcha’ boss.” Tom mentally notes, resuming to bask in the nature around him and your presence.

Tags:

Tom Holland Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @xxstrangegirlxxx @slutforsebstan

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↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland drabble #Cherry #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland headcanon #ally’s requests #tom stanley holland #tom holland imagine

[permanentcrossfics]

Intentional // h.s.

Gently, you hooked your fingers into the thin gold chains dangling around his neck. They were dim under the shadow of his chin and his eyes flickered down briefly as you slowly pulled the crosses out from underneath his t-shirt. You ran your fingers back and forth, moving the pendants along the chains as if they were on a zipline.

“Still looking, love?” he asked, voice slightly more strained. You nodded, extending your index finger to play with the chest hairs peeking out from his neckline.

Then, you stopped. Almost in tandem with your fist closing around the chains, Harry tipped his cap back before ducking down to kiss you. You swayed, senses overwhelmed -- his skin was under your nose, his mouth was over yours, his groan was in your ears, and his hands were slinking behind you, shielding your back as he pressed you into the shelving. Right then, he was the world. Everything and everyone outside of this aisle was muted and shunned into total darkness. Tentatively, you wrapped your hand tighter in his necklaces and tugged, and all but immediately he dug his fingers into your back without so much as taking a breath. You whimpered and, hand still tangled, you slid it up his neck. You’d just gotten your forearm around his neck when he pulled away.

“I--” He cleared his throat, eyes closed, and pulled his cap down by the brim before pushing it back up again. “Don’t think they really have what m’lookin’ for today,” he said.

Your heart sank, blood still pounding through your veins and head dizzy.

“I think-- f’we can maybe-- d’you wanna go home? Maybe?”

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Transitions were… tricky.

Before you and Harry had joined hands and taken the leap, you were convinced there was nothing worse than the agonizing tickle of did he or didn’t he, would you or wouldn’t you. There was nothing worse than your racing heart when he let his hand linger in more than friendly ways -- in the dip of your lower back, across your shoulder, anywhere he could get that wasn’t copping a feel. Nothing worse than resting your face in the crook of his neck, nose brushing his skin, and listening to him talk through his chest, voice somehow deeper that way. Nothing worse than watching his face fall when you said no, you couldn’t get dinner with him. Why? You had a dinner date with someone else.

Even now you remembered the pang of his confusion and how his easy smile had slipped from his face.

Not long after that he’d cornered you in his visibly nervous resolve. It ended with you perched on top of your kitchen counter, legs spread and him between them as you made out in sweet relief.

How’d you not known? How’d you not have any idea? You’d teased that you were blinded by your pining, but it was bad for him, too, he’d insisted. Awful wondering how to go about it without fucking up a friendship if friendship was all you wanted. All those times of trying to initiate a shift -- first with a slow drawl of, “Is this ok?” while dragging his thumb across the backs of your knuckles in more than the quick passes he’d done in the past. Then, the “All right?” he’d rumbled in your ear when he’d kept you in a hug longer than either of you usually did had you arching into him at the time. To his credit, he hadn’t laughed. If anything, he’d pulled you closer so all of you was stretched across all of him and he’d held on tight. He never let go if he could help it.

That was weeks ago -- three by now, give or take. Three weeks and the bliss of not dancing around suspicions or purposefully sidestepping signs was like a weight had been lifted from both your shoulders. Three weeks of staying in and coffees out and walking through the park after dark and in the rain because that was how privacy could be next to guaranteed. Three weeks, but no date.

“What’ve we been doing?” you’d asked when he’d made the observation over curry takeaway.

“Hanging out.” He shrugged. “Y’know? We haven’t--” sighing, shoulders slumping, he said, “I haven’t taken you anywhere, or….”

So, a date. A real date -- a first, devoid of the jitters and uncertainties that came with meeting someone new, but full of different ones. A date set with the intent of being a real date, not like anything else you’d do.

Just Harry. Just your friend, just your buddy, just someone who was no longer just anyone anymore. Harry, but your fingers shook and nearly spilled the contents of your purse when he rapped on your door.

“Coming!” you called, voice strained. Two twists of your lock later and your door was open. “Hey,” you said. Those off-white loafers he’d more than worn in, grey trousers, the cap stuffed over his hair, and the scooped neck of his tank top underneath his long wool coat assured you that you’d made the right choice with your outfit. His onceover of you was almost imperceptible -- another habit he’d sworn to you he was sure you’d noticed more than once despite himself, and one he’d thought secured him in your mind.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind you.

“Where--?”

Could you ask that? As friends you’d have badgered him, but as friends he’d have told you beforehand instead of omitting the plan.

He grinned, key fob in hand. “Thought we’d go somewhere we both like….”

“Which is?”

His eyes slid to you and his cheek dimpled deeper. “Maybe go listen to some music.”

***

The record shop was an institution. For all intents and purposes, it was a hole in the wall -- decades of cigarette smoke permeated the walls by at least three inches, and the thick floorboards were warped and creaked with even the slightest step. What the aisles lacked in width they made up for in height, with row after row of albums loaded onto shelving units that nearly touched the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Some were wrapped in cellophane, but most were opened with handwritten pricemarks affixed to the front of them, colors distorted and worn from fingers and care throughout the years.

“This isn’t ‘hanging out’?” you asked quietly, scanning the shelves as you moved along them slowly.

“No,” came his answer from several steps behind you. “It’s something we like doing together.”

“Friends look at records,” you said. “Can you hand me that one?” you asked, pointing at a shelf that was just out of reach.

“Hmm?” Harry looked up from the back of a sleeve he was examining. “Oh, sure.”

“Thanks.” You took it from him and flipped it over. “Do you have this one?”

“I do,” he said. “It’s nice.”

“Why haven’t I ever heard you play it?”

Harry shrugged and you huffed. “You have everything, don’t you?” you said, putting it back. He smirked, but otherwise didn’t react, and you bit your lip, deflating, and averted your eyes. When he’d parked the car out front, you had felt a certain level of ease with the familiarity. Now, though, you felt like… Jesus, you hated admitting it because it made you sound needy, but you felt like you had to vye for his attention. You were his date, but music was his wife, his children, his wife’s children from her first marriage, and more wrapped up into one. At least before, you would sometimes catch each other’s eye in a way that felt forbidden or you’d trade stories and ideas -- anything to have an excuse to talk or get close.

You’d never had this problem as friends.

Your shoes thudded along the floor as you walked through the narrow aisles, the rounding corners and twisting through crates that were stacked one on top of the other -- rescued vinyls, CDs, 8-tracks, and cassette tapes that would’ve met some other end if they hadn’t been sheltered here. It was like stepping through the wardrobe into a musical Narnia where time was lost and you could move seamlessly across it -- decade to decade, month to month, day to day. Twisting your purse so it was behind you and out of your way, you started thumbing through albums, stopping suddenly and pulling one out when it caught your eye.

“What’ve y’got there?”

You jumped, throat closing, and nearly dropped the album on your foot. “Oh my God, Harry!” you whispered. He grinned widely, obnoxiously and obviously pleased he’d startled you, and if it wouldn’t break, you’d hit him with the record. “You absolute--”

“Dunno how you didn’t hear me,” he said. “Floors are--” He leaned back and forth, the squeaking almost musical.

“Stop that,” you said, turning away from him. You were reading the back when he slipped his hand around your waist, palm splayed over your hip.

“What’s that?” he repeated his previous question close to your ear. Wordlessly, you flipped it around and he hummed. “That’s a good one. Don’t have that, actually.”

“No?”

He shook his head and the ends of his hair brushed your ear. Your pulse quickened. Having him this close and letting him so casually step into your bubble of personal space and linger was still so new and unfamiliar. Even now, questions about whether it meant anything cropped up, tickling your brain -- surely this had to be an accident, not anything intentional. Surely he had to not even realize what he was doing. Surely none of this could mean anything.

Surely.

“D’you think you’re gonna get it?”

You inhaled quickly and cleared your throat, slipping it back onto the shelf. “I-- don’t know.” Your mouth was dry and you coughed delicately, but when you made to spin to slip by him, he got his hand on your other hip and held you in place.

“Where’re you going?”

Straightening up, something pulled behind your navel. Electric -- the word made you roll your eyes, but it was the only one you could describe the intensity of the charge you felt. Almost nose to nose, you could see every detail on his face. You’d seen them countless times before without a thought, but they were somehow more now. Every crease of his eyelids, every slight variation in the shade of his eyes, the patches of his facial hair that were thicker and darker than others, the freckle on his lip and the other on his chin and the way his throat bobbed, and--

“Just looking,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” Harry asked. “M’lookin’, too.”

The bell above the door clanged at the front of the shop. It was muted, distant, and voices were muffled. Next to no one ever came back here -- that’s why he liked this place. It was so deep, no one would ever find him. He could duck in, disappear, find a gem or three, and quietly leave without anyone being the wiser.

It was Narnia. Safe, surrounded by mentors of times gone by, with no one to interrupt.

Gently, you hooked your fingers into the thin gold chains dangling around his neck. They were dim under the shadow of his chin and his eyes flickered down briefly as you slowly pulled the crosses out from underneath his t-shirt. You ran your fingers back and forth, moving the pendants along the chains as if they were on a zipline.

“Still looking, love?” he asked, voice slightly more strained. You nodded, extending your index finger to play with the chest hairs peeking out from his neckline.

Then, you stopped. Almost in tandem with your fist closing around the chains, Harry tipped his cap back before ducking down to kiss you. You swayed, senses overwhelmed -- his skin was under your nose, his mouth was over yours, his groan was in your ears, and his hands were slinking behind you, shielding your back as he pressed you into the shelving. Right then, he was the world. Everything and everyone outside of this aisle was muted and shunned into total darkness. Tentatively, you wrapped your hand tighter in his necklaces and tugged, and all but immediately he dug his fingers into your back without so much as taking a breath. You whimpered and, hand still tangled, you slid it up his neck. You’d just gotten your forearm around his neck when he pulled away.

“I--” He cleared his throat, eyes closed, and pulled his cap down by the brim before pushing it back up again. “Don’t think they really have what m’lookin’ for today,” he said.

Your heart sank, blood still pounding through your veins and head dizzy.

“I think-- f’we can maybe-- d’you wanna go home? Maybe?”

Already? You’d only just gotten there, and you thought maybe for all his talk of a date, he’d….

Harry tilted his head, green eyes unblinking and imploring you to understand something. His cheeks were pink and he opened his mouth before closing it quickly with a mumble of, “M’mean… we don’t have to-- if you’re not, then I don’t….”

Oh.

Oh.

“Sure,” you gasped. “Yeah.”

You’d no sooner gotten the words out than he’d unwound your hand from around his necklace to hold it in his and pull you with him back from Narnia to the front of the shop and into the real world.

***

The car ride was hell. Whatever tension had settled and relaxed on the way over had grown tenfold on the way back. You were pretty sure he broke at least three rules on the way that included saying, “No one ever comes down this road, anyway,” under his breath and flooring the gas in a way that had you gripping the door and seriously debating your answer when he asked if you were ok. But the click of his turn signal before he rolled into his driveway was like a ticking time bomb.

You were home. Your friend who was a bit more than friendly had invited you home with the clear and unmistakeable intention to have sex.

With him.

That was a little more different.

Harry turned the car off and twin pops of seatbelts unfastening followed in quick succession. Abandoning chivalry, he left you to your door in favor of racing to his front one to open it up and usher you both inside out of the light drizzle that’d started halfway there.

You were walking into his house to have sex with him.

It was warm and cozy inside. Decorated in all its eccentric ways, his home felt like it was still getting used to having him home more often. Your shoes scuffed and squeaked the hardwood and his loafers padded with purpose as he went around flicking lights on to brighten the rooms. His cap was gone, having carelessly tossed it somewhere on his way in, and he was shaking his coat off when you fumbled with your bag before dropping it on the sofa and kicking off your shoes.

Ready.

Set….

“I’m--”

Gonna go upstairs.

The rest of it, though, was lost when Harry spun you by the waist and you only just caught sight of his curls — disheveled from the hat he’d stuffed them under — before he reeled you in with a smashing kiss. Unrestrained, unrelenting, and unforgiving, he was off, and it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders for dear life as he backed you up in the practiced way someone who lived there and knew every quirk and oddity of his own house might. He was free to touch, and you were, too, and you did. You touched his back, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, the zipper on his trousers, and his thighs with greedy hands that were learning as fast as they could. As in the shop, again he pulled away and grabbed your hand to lead you up the steps, and your knees quaked so badly you nearly fell down more than once on the way up.

You felt naughty. The same frantic energy of two teenagers trying to beat the clock after school before Mum came home to make dinner pricked you, and judging by the permanent smile pulling his mouth and carving smile lines deeper, he felt it, too. Hurry up, quick, before anyone caught on that you were going to have sex with your friend Harry.

“Everyone probably thinks we’ve already--”

His barking laugh cut you off -- a little wheezy, but it was deep from his belly, and infectious -- and you followed him, giggling, into his bedroom.

It smelled like him. It was the whiff you got when you hugged him, or, more recently, kissed him, but even more, and it was so concentrated it made you woozy. The bed was made, if haphazardly -- like he’d decided on it while getting dressed because he thought he should, but he hadn’t wanted to spend the time on doing it right -- and clothes were visible through half-open drawers and draped onto the stuffed armchair in the corner of his room.

“Did you clean?” you teased. He exhaled sharply and shook his head, but his mouth quirked at the corners and his cheeks were pink. Biting your lip, you squeezed his hand and he stepped closer.

“Is this ok?” he asked. Nodding, you tilted your head up slightly to meet his mouth. Less hurried and violent than the one downstairs, this kiss reached deep, stirring up nerves and butterflies. Each time he broke it, you chased him for more, and he smiled into it, pressing his warm hand on your cheek. “Gonna take your clothes off now,” he mumbled between several smacking kisses.

“Ok….”

Your clothes and his were gradually removed -- button by button, snap after snap, and zippers, too, slowly and with careful intent despite the rush you were both in. Discovering him and having him discover you was nothing short of exhilarating. Harry drew his hand over your bare shoulder with almost curious possessiveness before ducking down and sponging kisses up and down it that had your eyes fluttering shut and your head rolling back. He groaned in the back of his throat and his teeth scraped your skin when he bit you gently, pulling a gasp from you and you yourself back to consciousness.

Dazed and lips parted with each gulping breath, you stared at him. His hair was dark and twisted, pulled this way and that by your hands and his, and his chest rose and fell rapidly, the same crosses you’d tugged earlier glinting in the streaks of soft grey light peeking through his curtains. Even the most faded ink on his torso and arms seemed to pop bright and black on his skin, and without thinking, you pressed your palms to it, absorbing the warmth as you skated over him before doing as he had and leaning in to press a kiss to his shoulder.

How many times had you suppressed thoughts of kissing his skin? How many times more had you indulged in them feeling guilty and unsure, because he was your friend and things weren’t like that for either of you? How many times had you wondered when you’d get to do this since things had shifted? You kissed and pulled at the skin along his shoulders, chest, and arms, relishing his stuttered breaths, and you only paused when, glancing up, you caught the look on his face. With hooded eyes and a parted, bright red mouth, he looked like a man -- not a man who was your friend, but a man you wanted to rip into and who you wanted to rip into you. A man who could, and was perfectly capable of it, and who would without even having to be asked if you only said yes, please. It was feral, it was instinctual, and you clapped your hand behind his neck before smashing your mouth to his with a desperate whimper.

Harry turned you smoothly onto his bed and you squeaked when your back hit the mattress with a bounce and he went with you. You were covered by him from head to toe, and you ran your foot up his calf, hooking it around the back of his knee. “Ha--” muffled against his mouth, he groaned immediately.

“I know,” he said. “I know, I know….”

One bra strap and then the other snapped when he slipped them down your arms, but the sting barely made an impression when he let out a slow, hot breath against your chest and peppered kisses over the tops of your breast. Nose pressed to your skin, he took a deep breath, and the anxiety that had wound itself into tight little balls in you of unchecked energy gradually loosened and dissolved. He was nervous -- not enough to inhibit him, but enough to roll off him and onto you. You almost laughed. You’d been so focused on your own perspective, you’d lost sight of the fact that this was different for him, too.

His best friend was in his bed, nearly naked, and he was about to have sex with them.

“Is this ok?” you whispered over his head. Harry stopped and looked up at you.

“Is…?” He grinned, laughing, and shook his head. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s great.”

Simple and silly, that one word sent you soaring. Great -- you were great. This was great. Pushing his chest, you sat up when he rolled off you as you wordlessly reached behind to unhook your bra. You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped automatically when you shimmied it down your arms, and you smirked in a way you hoped was half as coy as you’d tried to make it.

“Go,” you murmured, pushing his chest again.

“Ah,” Harry said, doing as you asked and falling back onto his elbows. “They like to be in charge, then?”

Heat crept up through you when you straddled his thighs. “Sometimes.” You slipped your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, noticing very briefly how soft his skin was against your knuckles before you pulled the elastic firmly. Harry lifted his hips so you could get them down, and just as his had, your eyes dropped despite yourself. Mostly hard, he rested against the crease of his thigh. Any number of adjectives ran through your head, and you only realized you were still looking, lost in thought, when you caught the cocky twist of his mouth.

“Go on, then,” he said quietly. Snorting, you rolled your eyes and fell forward, chest-to-chest with him, and he drew you up into a kiss. Smashed together, you stayed just like that, hands stroking, dipping, and exploring bare skin. You shivered when he slipped his hand into your underwear to knead your ass, and your wriggling made him grunt in a tortured way. “Condom’s in the drawer,” he mumbled. “Gonna… have to… wait… wait here.”

Harry gently eased you away by the waist before rolling across his bed and stood to open his bedside table. You dropped your head onto his pillow and watched him with a small smile. “Were you planning this?”

He tore a condom off the strip. “No. I mean….” Harry shrugged. “Had hope that… maybe eventually… y’know…” he said sheepishly. He looked at you as if gauging your reaction. “Is that…?”

Your smile widened and you held your arm out, inviting him back, and he let out a deep breath, taking it.

“Know how t’keep me on my toes,” he mumbled.

“Good,” you said just before kissing him, arm tight around his neck. He inhaled deeply and sheets rustled as you rolled in them, turning him onto his back and sending you with him. With your weight settled on top of him, you lay there comfortably, languidly kissing through soft, breathless moans. He, for his part, seemed content to let his hands wander the sides of your breasts, your back, your hips, over your ass, the crease along your thighs, and finally….

You stilled with a gasp when he slid the pads of his fingers over you -- up and down, up and down -- before he carefully parted you with just the tips. Gulping, you broke from his mouth and rested your forehead on his shoulder with a rattling breath, gripping his bicep and shifting to bring one of your knees up. Harry grunted and adjusted himself beneath you before pressing a kiss to your ear and sliding his fingers deeper. He curled them and your mouth fell open. Beneath you, he chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he pumped them in and out of you, each wet, slick stroke somehow louder than the last. God, could he hear that? Of course he could.

“Come on,” he whispered, gradually slowing his fingers. He pulled them out and drew them up your skin, leaving a sticky trail behind. “Come….” The wrapper crinkled when you tore into it, and he pinched the top while you smoothed the condom down to his base. Hands braced on his chest, you held your breath as you settled over him.

“Breathe,” he warned, jaw tight and eyes flickering between your face and where you were above him. “Breathe, yeah? Just--”

“I’m ok,” you assured him, drawing his head between your legs, sliding it until you found your entrance. “I’m….” You trailed off into a sigh when you opened around his head, and, swallowing hard, you eased down, down, down onto him until you were nearly seated on his thighs. “Oh my God,” you moaned under your breath.

“Breathe,” Harry said again. Eyes closed, you did as he said, taking slow, deep breaths in and out. He was… this was a stretch. Not painfully so, but one regardless. You pulsed, grimacing immediately, before rocking on top of him. There -- that wasn’t so bad. Not at all, even, that was good. Hands still on his chest, you braced yourself and pushed back and forth, slowly at first and then with more certainty. Beneath you, Harry grunted and clapped his hands over your hips as if caught off guard. “Shit,” he breathed.

Eyes stamped shut, he tilted his head back, drilling it into his pillow, and you marveled at the long column of his neck. You watched his throat bob several times and you followed the path up to his sharp jawline, his tight mouth, to where his nose was flaring harshly. He laughed breathlessly and opened his eyes, but there was an unfocused gleam to them. “Y-y’killin’... killin’ me,” he stuttered. “You….”

He trailed off when you hooked your fingertips into his chains again and tugged. His chin doubled when he lifted his head and when he locked eyes with you, you grinned impishly before easing down onto him. Clapping a firm hold on your ass, he brought you down hard and you groaned abruptly. That was deep -- that was in your belly -- and your face screwed up when he did it again and again, thrusting his hips sharply against yours.

“Oh my-- Harry-- fuck!”

The bands of his rings, warm from his body heat, pinched your skin when he tightened his hold. He practically shook beneath you with the effort he was using, every breath labored, but suddenly, he stopped. Before you could so much as whisper, the world spun around you and you were on your back, empty.

“Shit!” Harry spluttered, pushing his fingers through his now damp hair. It fell right back in front of his forehead and you let out a wheezy stream of giggles. “That-- that was not supposed to be that….”

You laughed louder and he kissed your jaw, grinning against it while kneading one of your breasts, thumb rolling back and forth over your nipple. Eyes closing, you sighed breathily when he ducked down and sucked with a low, reverent groan and incomprehensible mumbles. When he stretched out above you again to push in, you wrapped both your arms around his back as yours arched with a quiet moan.

“God, this feels good,” you said, candid and unprompted, sinking into the feeling as he sank into you.

“Feels amazing,” he said. “Feels so fucking….” Grunting, he shuddered and dropped nearly all his weight on top of you. “Bring your legs up,” he said. “Bring your legs--” You complied, locking your ankles just above his ass, thighs spread wide. “Good, good girl.”

“You like to… to be the boss?” you teased, echoing his earlier jab.

He thrust sharply, punching a shout from you.

“Yes.”

Again and again he drove into you, and it was all you could do to grab onto him. He’d been holding back! He’d been holding way back! You hiccuped a breath and pressed your mouth to his shoulder, face twisted as you grappled his back with shaking fingers. This was good sex -- this was the type of sex that elevated you and made your toes shake and curl while you gasped for breath. The type of sex where you were going and going until you lost your breath right on the edge and you had to pause and feel the tickles of an orgasm slip away because it was that or pass out cold. This was sex you kissed and bit your way through and would leave you sore from your scalp down through the balls of your feet. It was roll over, lift like this, deeper, there? There sex. This sex was….

You weren’t sure at first because it felt fast, but it was confirmed with the first contraction deep in your abdomen. “Oh my God,” you moaned in disbelief. One of your hands slipped against his back and he hissed, faltering for just a moment as you uttered a pitchy, “Sorry… sorry!” while finding your hold both in his firm upper back and the softer muscle close to his hips.

“Close?” he ground out, voice muffled, and you nodded against his shoulder, turning your face into his sweaty neck. The smell of cologne and sweat was strong, almost dizzyingly so, and each new contraction brought on by his pelvis grinding against yours made it worse.

Swallowing, mouth dry, you whispered, “I’m think I’m gonna cum,” in an almost confessional tone. “I think--”

“Ok!” he said under his breath. “Ok-- oh, shit….” He moaned, a long, loud, drawn out sound and his hips faltered. ‘Wait! Wait, fuck!” Breathless and keening he thrust roughly, like he was trying to beat a clock only he could hear, breathing raggedly under your ear. Panting, you locked your arms and legs around him. You’d never been particularly loud -- years of necessity had built a habit -- but you could hear yourself now, calling out things that didn’t even make sense, writhing underneath him like you were out of your mind. It was almost pornographic, and you almost laughed, but it got caught in your throat when your cunt pulsed and your whole body tightened.

“Oh, Harry, oh, God!”

Harry smashed a stubbly kiss to the corner of your mouth, and his chin hit yours so hard it hurt. Your eye watered, whether from pain or the intensity of him still grinding, but seconds later through sputtered pleases and increasingly frantic thrust, he groaned so deeply you felt it in you. You went entirely still as he trembled, cock throbbing, and in the next minute he’d collapsed full weight on top of you. You sucked soft, wheezy breaths in as best you could, but your lungs were crushed in your chest with the pressure he was putting on them. Just as you were about to ask him to… maybe… please, Harry… move… he pushed up and off you to the side just enough to relieve you.

“Shit!” he rasped, face planted against your shoulder. “Shit.”

Yeah. Shit. Did you say it out loud? You couldn’t tell -- you couldn’t tell much of anything anymore. Everything was somehow pleasantly hot and numb at the same time, and you were thirsty. Your head was ringing, too, and you couldn’t remember the last time sex had left you this finished. Totally and thoroughly finished.

You’d done it. You’d had sex with him, with intent, and it was incredible.

Harry slipped his hand around your bicep and squeezed, pressing kisses to your skin in silence. Your lips quirked, but any quip was half-formed, and each one died on your tongue. Gradually, your breathing settled and the roaring silence did, too. Outside, the clouds had passed, and raindrops clinging to the window panes were slowly drying up in the sun that’d deemed it safe enough to peek again. It was still early -- after the nerves, the jitters, the trip to the shop, dancing around each other, and flooring it back to his place, and the sex, there was still most of a day ahead of you.

With a final squeeze, Harry kissed the top of your breast before rolling away, bed creaking beneath him. Shaking his head, he stood, and picked his trousers off the floor before patting them down and taking out his phone.

“S’get summat t’eat,” he mumbled, voice thick, as he passed it over to you. “Lemme buy.” He gestured to himself vaguely. “Gonna go… and maybe pick up that record you didn’t know I had.”

He stumbled, waving you off when you giggled. Just the same as before -- lunch in the afternoon with albums spinning until you couldn’t stand to get up to change them again -- but with a few crucial differences that made it so much better.

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry imagine #harry fanfic #harry oneshot #harry one shot #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #permanentcross #intentional #original writing

[king-maven-calore]

5,6 or 7. Angst. Mareven

ok ok, so I had to be in the right state of mind to write this, sorry for the delay. This fits as part of a fic/request that I started writing and may never finish bc damn it hurts so much.

This is uhm... marecal fam y'all should keep your distance🚫🚫

Some days were easier than others. Wasn’t that the way of life? Some days Mare’s figure was a mere shadow at the corner of his eye, disappearing whenever he tried to focus on her. Others, she would linger, muttering snide comments at the Cygnet’s handle of political affairs. Needless to say, she had a great deal of disdain for them. Being married to Iris, he had a right to attend the meetings where such matters were discussed. He wasn’t trusted enough to have an opinion though.

Maven was a prisoner in all but name, in a foreign nation, doomed to roam the halls of The Royelle, chased at every minute of every hour by the ghost of the woman he loved. The dead woman he loved... because he had killed her. Tricky how that worked, that her ghost had chased away the echo of his mother’s voice inside his head, and instead made it her task to torture him.

“You know that plan will only get silvers killed and red deserters for the Scarlet Guard,” Mare chirped with a bounce to her step.

‘Task’ wasn’t the right word, when she enjoyed torturing him so thoroughly. If this was his punishment, it was also her paradise.

“Acute observation,” he sneered, keeping his head down until he reached his chambers. “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Word on the Lakelander court was that he was mad. A fallen king who often got caught talking to empty air and gazed at nothing, full of longing and loathing in equal measure.

“Obvious, and still you kept your mouth shut.” Her tone changed to scolding and she materialized right in front of him. “You could’ve stopped this.” Her eyes the color of trees in autumn, dead and cold, drilled holes in his.

He sidestepped her and kept walking at a brisk pace. Days such as these, when he could see her so clearly, he could also touch her. It was never a pleasant sensation. Today she looked the same way she had when he branded her in Harbor Bay; hair in a tight braid that fell over her shoulder the braid had come undone when she’d wriggled in pain on the floor when he used Cal’s torture device on her. She was wearing unassuming jeans and a shirt he’d moved out of the way so easily to burn the M on her skin. The spot was unscarred now. A pity. No matter how many times he re-branded the letter, she would just show up without it the next day.

Taunting him. Daring him to commit his sin all over again. Well, joke was on her. A tiny part of him would always sing at seeing her writhing on the ground beneath his hand, it was proof he could too, make her feel something.

“I couldn’t stop anything. They won’t listen to me.”

Maven closed the door of his chambers behind him and started yanking off the layers of heavy black clothes covering his frame until he was in his pants and shirt. It was getting hard to breathe.

“You can be pretty convincing when you want to be,” Mare spat in his face. “Do something, your highness.”

“Why should I?” He gripped her elbows with enough force to bruise. He hated how real, how warm she felt.

She’s not real. She isn’t here. Two sentences that held no weight by now. Not when his heart missed a beat and his skin prickled at the point of contact.

“I have no interest in my wife’s kingdom, or its citizens,” he gritted out pushing her until her back hit the wall, covered in scorch marks the palace staff didn’t bother to clean anymore. “Red or Silver. Their lives mean nothing to me.”

“Nothing ever mattered to you but your precious crown, right.” Mare laughed darkly; her eyes even darker as she glared at him. He loomed inches above her. “How miserable.”

She made it sound so small and simple. An existence reduced to a circle of iron... but it wasn’t true. Underneath the incomprehensible obsession with the power, there had been other things. Phantoms of things erased and squashed with surgical precision: curiosity for art and theatre, affection toward his father and brother, a taste for certain board games, love for two Reds.

The latter, rather than being squashed like the others, had morphed into this; staring into the fascinating, beautiful, horrible face of a phantom that felt more real than his own. He loved her so much he wanted to kill her all over again.

He didn’t realize his hands were burning until Mare’s shirt caught on fire. She remained unfazed, unharmed by his fire, still glowering.

“Not the only thing.” Maven’s voice was strained. “You mattered to me. I told you that.”

“And yet...” she added dryly, without feeling the need to complete the last part. The evident. The tragedy. His last, unforgivable crime. Ripping her away from the world and attaching her to him in return.

Forgive me, I beg of you. But some words could kill if spoken out loud, and he knew these ones would end him. And he was afraid of the darkness that followed, ironic as that may be for someone who had so comfortably inhabited darkness his entire life. One was a familiar comfort, while the other was the black dot at the end of a final paragraph. He refused to end it like this.

“I love you,” he gritted out through the noose tightening around his throat.

“No,” she whispered easily, without even pausing to consider his words. The flames were up to her collar now, licking at her neck. “You don’t. I believed you did, once, in your own way. But I was wrong because you don’t willingly murder the one you love, Maven.” Her eyes glinted with amusement, reflecting the orange light of the fire. “I loved you. I even chose you before you decided to throw it all away.”

Past tense. His gut recoiled like he’d been electrocuted, even though the ghost had no sparks. The room spun, the air scratched its way down to his lungs, his clothes asphyxiated him.

“Then leave me.” He pressed his face to her temple roughly, pushing her against the wall. “Go with him!” he growled like he was gurgling on venom. “Leave me! Leave me alone like all the rest!”

His screams would surely be heard across the palace but he did not care. Mare was all he had left... but not really. He’d made sure of it.

“LEAVE!” His throat hurt and the wallpaper behind Mare started raining down on them in hot embers that clung to their hair and clothes.

She shook him off and murmured in his ear, sweetly, as warmly as if she was pressing a knife to his neck and drawing out silver blood in rivers. “You thought you were the only one capable of hunting? I’ll haunt you even after your body is buried and left to rot.”

And then she was gone. He was left staring at the burning wall, carpet, and ceiling. Behind him, he heard the chandelier drop on the burning mattress. Maven fell to his knees grasping at the now empty air and screamed his throat raw for the first time, burning it all until the room was nothing but ashes, surrounding himself with fire to fight off the dark and the cold that permeated all things.

He let it all out because he did care, deep down he still cared. It was finally starting to push to the front of his consciousness and it was like a dam breaking, like birthing humanity, or himself, he did not know. The chaos and the pain were too great.

No one came to check on him.

When he woke up on the floor the next day, so tired not even 10 years of sleep could have helped, Mare was standing over him. Arms crossed and a quirked brow.

“Are you done?”

Leave it to the Little Lightning girl to shit on a perfectly good dramatic moment.

“Mare, dear,” he sighed, feeling slightly grateful for her presence. “I’m only getting started.”

#Mareven #my fics #red queen #RQ fanfic #don't mind silly things like coherence or grammar #this is pure vibes #fml #ask

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

Promises

He didn't have a lot of friends. That required trust, and trust just wasn’t something Billy Hargrove did. Except with Steve Harrington, apparently. Steve was his friend, which was fine. Billy would have preferred a lot more, but that did not seem particularly likely. Not for lack of trying on Billy's part, honestly. At this point, Billy was so overtly flirty with Steve that he was worried he had overshot genuine interest and was fast approaching the realm of parody. He had spilled his beer on Steve no fewer than four times in the past several months in the hopes that Steve would go to change out of his wet clothes and realize halfway through that just...hanging out in his underwear would be totally fine. Instead, Steve always disappeared into Billy's bedroom, completely at home in Billy's space, and came back wearing Billy's clothes. And that was somehow worse?

And the thing was—the thing was!—Steve clearly wasn’t uninterested. He blushed when Billy teased him. His breath hitched when Billy touched him sometimes. His pupils went wide when Billy stretched or flexed or did that one thing with his tongue. And he didn’t avoid touching Billy, like just about everybody else did, or touch him like he was something fragile or broken. He touched Billy casually all the fucking time. He hugged him when he arrived, and fell asleep against his shoulder, and tucked his feet under Billy’s thigh on the couch, and kissed him on the cheek before he left. He even kissed him on the fucking forehead sometimes, which made Billy feel small and blushy and unbearably cared for.

Billy wondered sometimes if he should just be honest with Steve, but that was tricky, wasn’t it? Because in this particular case, he couldn’t be honest with Steve without betraying a little too much about himself. And it’s not like he had all that many secrets left. Neil was gone and his treatment of Billy was common knowledge, at least among the people who knew what had actually happened at the mall. So, the vast majority of the people Billy actually talked to anymore. It turned out that competent doctors could tell the difference between recent monster trauma and years of physical abuse, and Steve's little group of nerds and their various hangers-on were around enough and had overheard enough to put it together. The fact that Billy was not actually into girls was also common knowledge among that same subset of people, but only because Billy had been in a coma, so he hadn't been able to mention to Eleven that she might not want to share that little tidbit with her friends. Billy wasn’t mad—couldn’t be, not at her—and with Neil gone, he supposed he had a little less to fear on that front. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to do anything about it, aside from continuing to flirt shamelessly with Steve. So he only really had the one big secret left.

Here's how it was: Billy Hargrove, at the time that he was impaled by a massive interdimensional flesh monster, did not have a whole lot to live for. He had a shitty father and a mother who had fucked off quite a while back and a stepsister who had not yet given up on him for some reason, but who was also probably better off without him. He had a hopeless crush on a gorgeous, oblivious straight boy; several delightful mental images of that same straight boy in a frankly pornographic sailor outfit that he somehow had to wear for work; and treasured memories of California, but not quite enough money or guts to fuck off back to the beach where he came from, with or without Steve Harrington. All of that stuff was good, and it got Billy through the day sometimes, but none of it was actually something to live for. Steve Harrington in that sailor outfit came the closest, but Billy was never going to get to take it off of him, so what was the fucking point?

And Billy knew, even though he didn't exactly remember it, that it had gotten pretty bad for him a few times as he was recovering. Like, 'they were sure they were going to lose him' bad. And people had said a lot of fucking stupid things to him, both while he was in the hospital and after he got out, about fate and love and redemption. About holding on for the sake of the people you cared about. About not knowing what you had until you lost it. About how he must feel so lucky to be alive. And Billy hated all of it so fucking much. He wasn't alive because he had had some big epiphany about how precious life was, or because fate had spared him, or because he thought anyone on the planet would spend more than about thirty seconds being sad if he died. What he did have, what had actually kept him going when it got bad, were these...well, they weren’t anywhere close to clear enough to be called memories.

They came from that long, hazy period when his body was gradually knitting itself back together. When the boundary between being asleep and being awake hadn't seemed real at all. When he had almost no visual memories, aside from brief flashes of fluorescent lights or the shadows of people moving around above him. He had a handful of half-remembered phrases in various voices: Max whispering sorry, El whispering I won't tell. And these...other sentences. These promises, in Steve Harrington’s low, husky voice.

Billy was in no way certain that they were real. He didn't know how much of anything from that time was real. What they were was meaningful, which made it fucking impossible to talk about them. Unlike all the bullshit about fate and family and redemption, they had helped him. Had helped a lot, actually. Had given him something tangible to live for when it would have been so much easier to just let it all slip away. But that was the other thing--they weren't exactly things that Steve Harrington would actually, conceivably say to him. They were things he would have killed to hear from Steve, would still kill to hear from Steve, but Steve was sweet. Goofy, affectionate, kind. Unfailingly supportive. An invaluable friend throughout Billy's recovery. An invaluable friend who consistently, gracefully deflected Billy’s obvious flirting. It hardly seemed possible that he had said those things, and Billy really didn’t want to find out that he hadn’t. It was too awful to contemplate. Because, shit, they still kept him going sometimes, a year and a half later.

The first one came to him from far away, like he was hearing it from the bottom of a well. “I swear to God, Billy, if you make it through this I’ll let you choke on my dick whenever you feel like it.” So, like, there was a fair amount to unpack there. First of all, Steve almost never actually called him Billy, even now. And secondly, literally everything else about that sentence. It wasn't possible that it was real. Billy had to have made it up, given himself a fucking reason not to move toward the light or whatever. And if that had been the only one, he would have dismissed it as an obvious fabrication of his own mind without a second thought. But it wasn’t.

The second one was a little clearer, though all of them were maddeningly hazy. Had he actually felt Steve’s breath against the shell of his ear while he'd said it? It was impossible to say. “Hey gorgeous, hang in there, ok? Wouldn’t want you to die before I get the chance to fuck you so hard you forget your own goddamn name.” It was true—he absolutely did not want to die before that happened. That one had gotten him through some bleak nights, even after he woke up. He still got half hard every time he thought about it.

The next one was maybe Billy’s favorite. Although, honestly they were all his favorite. He wasn't sure he had ever treasured anything more. The third time, he was almost sure he could feel the warmth radiating off of Steve’s body as Steve leaned in next to his ear. “Come on, tiger, you gotta get through this so you can show me absolutely everything you can do with that tongue.” A little less filthy, maybe, but no less motivating. He did want to do that, very much. He had thought about it quite a bit while he was in the hospital. He still thought about it just about every time Steve came over to his apartment, which was often.

The fourth one changed it up a bit. “We’re going to sit there on the sand and watch the sun set over the ocean, and I’m going to make you cream your swim trunks right there on the beach.” And goddamn, that was quite the mental image. Fuck a bunch of holding on for the people you cared about; that was worth living for.

The fifth one was ragged, a little desperate. “You can’t die, baby. I’ve never let anybody put their dick in me before, and you have to live so you can do it.” That one came with the gentle sensation of a hand in his, the phantom press of lips to his temple. He was pretty sure he woke up just a few days after that one. And rightfully fucking so, honestly.

So yeah. He still had the one secret. And there was no fucking way to talk about it without revealing way too much about himself. So he didn't talk about it, and he was never going to talk about it, and he was going to go to his grave not knowing if any of it was real, and he was going to be fine with that because there weren't any other options. Until Steve slipped up.

It was far too early on a Saturday morning. Steve had arrived at an even more ungodly hour and had dragged Billy out of bed for some weekend trip. He wouldn't say where they were going, but he promised it was going to be great, and Billy could sleep in the car, and they were going to have the time of their lives. So Billy was slouched grumpily in the passenger seat, nursing an enormous coffee and periodically glaring at everything out the window for having the audacity to exist at this hour. He didn't glare at Steve. All of this was Steve's fault, but Billy couldn't be mad at him when he looked all sleepy and his hair was a mess and he was wearing his fucking glasses instead of his usual contacts. Billy couldn't be mad at him under any other circumstances either, but he deliberately didn't think too much about that, so it was fine.  

Billy watched out of the corner of his eye as Steve sipped his own coffee and stifled a yawn. Steve had spent the first half hour of the drive not talking at all, but the coffee was apparently kicking in, so now he was trying to get Billy excited about his mystery plan.

“Come on, tiger, you’re going to love it,” he finally said. Billy wasn’t fully awake, so it took a second for it to land. Come on, tiger. When it did, Billy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. It could easily have been a coincidence; Steve would have been fine if he had just played it off, but that's not what happened. When Billy looked up, Steve was staring intently out the windshield, resolutely not looking at him. But his shoulders were creeping up around his ears and his face had gone scarlet. Billy felt a grin spreading across his face. Suddenly, he was on top of the goddamn world; this was shaping up to be the best day of his life. He stared at Steve’s profile for a long moment as the flush from his face spread down his neck. The atmosphere in the car was electric. Billy took a deep breath and tried to get himself under control. Steve's entire demeanor had hope beating wildly in his chest, but there was still room for this to end in disappointment.

“Absolutely everything, huh?” Billy said it quietly, carefully, deliberately, and then he held his breath. Steve made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and Billy felt giddy. Steve had been right--they had only been on the road for forty minutes, but Billy was already having the time of his life on this trip. Steve didn't say anything, but after a few long moments of silence, he pulled the car over onto the shoulder. After he carefully put the car in park and turned it off, he dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. He didn't lift his head when he spoke.

“I didn't think you remembered," he said slowly. Billy didn't say anything and after a moment, Steve gave a little sigh and continued, still talking mostly to the floor. "The first time, it was a fucking Hail Mary. You were declining fast and nothing was working, and I just...I had a hunch. So I waited until everyone else had left the room and I tried it." Billy was absolutely delighted picturing it, Steve flushed bright red, leaning down to whisper stuff about his dick into Billy's ear. "They kicked me out right after that, at about four am. They told me to go home and get some rest, and to be prepared for bad news. But when I got back to the hospital a few hours later, you were doing better.” Steve cleared his throat. “Apparently you started improving shortly after I left. I told myself it was probably a fucking coincidence, but part of me thought that maybe it had actually worked." He huffed out a laugh. "I could barely fucking believe that you weren’t dead; it was bad. And then a couple of weeks later, it got bad again. So I tried it again. And you started doing better again. And then it was like this secret that we had. That I had,” Steve corrected himself. He sat up and dropped his head back against the headrest, but he still wouldn't look at Billy. He stared out the windshield instead. His  face was still bright red. “And then you actually woke up. I didn’t know if you remembered any of it, and I didn’t want to be the kind of person who would come onto you while you were in a fucking coma and then act like you owed me something afterwards, so I kept my mouth shut.”

"Steve," Billy said softly. Steve rubbed his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Billy stopped breathing for a second.

"Don't," he said quietly. They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Billy decided that he had to know what exactly Steve was apologizing for. “Did you...” he started to ask, but he found that he couldn’t finish the sentence. Steve glanced at him and his face softened before his eyes shied away again.

“Mean it? Yes. Fuck yes. Every word.”

“Then what the fuck, Steve?” Billy had been beyond obvious for months. Steve sighed. His hands came back up to his face, and then he sat up straighter and squared his shoulders.

“You just...you went through something so awful, and it was like...your world got so small. You were trapped in the hospital, and now you're trapped in Hawkins until they clear you to leave." Steve glanced over again, and his voice got smaller. "I just...I really wanted you, but I didn't want you to do something you'd regret just because I was there, you know? And I still don't want you to feel trapped into something just because you can't leave this goddamn town. I would never want you to be with me just because you don't have any other choices."

Ok, so there was plenty to unpack there, and all of it was wrong. Except the part where Steve said he wanted Billy--that part was the best thing he had ever heard. Well, the sixth best thing he'd ever heard. There was a silence while Billy thought about what he wanted to say. He took a breath to psych himself up.

"The first thing you should probably know is that I was into you well before any of the Mindflayer stuff even happened. So there's that." Billy cleared his throat, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. "And the second thing you should know is that I got cleared to leave Hawkins over a month ago." Steve's head whipped around, wide eyes on Billy's face.

"Then why..." Steve trailed off. Billy had considered leaving, but only briefly. He wanted to go back to the beach, he did, but not by himself. Not anymore.

"Steve," Billy said again, giving Steve a look. "You know why." After all, Billy had been the opposite of subtle about it. Steve just stared at him, eyes going impossibly wider as Billy deliberately took off his seatbelt and moved into Steve's space. "But fine, if you need me to spell it out, I'm definitely not in this car with you right now because I don't have any other options."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's. Steve responded immediately and enthusiastically, and something that had still been wound tight in Billy's chest eased. By the time they broke apart to breathe, Billy was practically in Steve's lap, both of his hands up under Steve's shirt. Steve had one hand at Billy's lower back and the other buried in his curls. They sat panting a little, their foreheads pressed together. Billy smiled wickedly.

"I would just like to point out that you made a lot of promises about what was going to happen if I didn't die, Harrington, and I held up my end of the bargain." Steve's answering smile was bright and just a little cocky.

"I'm looking forward to keeping every single one of those promises, Hargrove. We can start as soon as we get where we're going." Billy frowned at him.

"I survived being impaled by a giant flesh monster because you promised me--"

"My giant flesh monster?" Steve cut in, cracking up halfway through. Billy snorted, but did not further dignify that with a response.

"As I was saying," he said instead, "I am alive today because you have a really nice dick and a filthy mouth, and I have been waiting on both of them for months, and I am definitely not waiting three more hours to get started." He punctuated this declaration by reaching for the top button of Steve's pants. He had it and the next two buttons open before Steve reached out to stop him.

"Billy," he hissed, "we are parked on the side of the highway! We are not doing this here. Literally anyone could look over at any time and get a fantastic view of exactly what we're doing." Steve had a point, but Billy didn't have to like it.

He sighed and kissed Steve one more time, hard, before he reluctantly clambered back over to the passenger seat.

"Fine," he said. "We can compromise." He leaned over and grabbed Steve's wrist to look at his watch. Then he smiled at Steve, sharp and a little predatory. "I'm going to start sucking your dick in twenty minutes, if not before. We're still in fucking Indiana, so that should give you plenty of time to find some deserted back road somewhere." Steve was already starting the car.

He grinned over at Billy as he pulled back into traffic and made his way to the next exit.

"So you're going to start at the top and work your way through them, huh?"

"Maybe. We'll just have to see," Billy said. He paused. "I gotta say, pretty boy, I'm legitimately fuckin' impressed. I didn't know you had it in you." Steve smirked at him.

“Hey, give me some credit. I knew you well enough to know that if I had mentioned feelings, or called it making love, you would have immediately chosen the sweet embrace of death.” Billy laughed along with Steve because Steve was right: at one point, Billy absolutely would have done that.

Not anymore, though. Not if it was Steve. But he wasn't about to just blurt that out, so. He could still have one secret. For now, anyway.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my writing #I don't know man #I wrote this at three am a couple weeks ago #I'm done staring at it so now you get to look at it #I'm sorry #or you're welcome! #one of those

[frostsinth]

A yummy pinup of Yared, trying to snake his way out of trouble he probably got himself into, and part 1 of 2 is below for the very sweet @justasoftboi who requested a continuation of the story of these two. This was supposed to be flat colors, but those coils just needed a little something extra to show them off. I hope this is what you were looking for! 

@justasoftboi was the first place winner of my Monster Match Raffle! If you are interested in commissioning me for your own monster piece, DM me for details. Check out my MasterList for more monster romances, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there!

All the best!

: PART ONE :

I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck. “I don’t know, Raz... “

She somehow managed to make her eyes even bigger, and clasped her hands before her. Shaking them slightly for emphasis. “Come on, please? I know it sounds a little crazy-”

“It sounds insane.” I admonished her.

“You know how parents are!” She continued, “And mine are the worst! It’s just one night, and then they’ll be gone. Please?”

I groaned, feeling my resolve weakening. “Why me?” I asked, shifting my satchel on my shoulder. “Why not Hassan or Ondre? You know half the guys in this village would jump at the chance to be your boyfriend.”

She threw up her hands. “That’s exactly why I can’t ask any of them,” she replied, letting her hands settle on her hips from their descent, “I don’t want to send any mixed messages. You’re the only one that I know won’t do anything crazy.”

My lips twitched, and I almost laughed at that. “Well, you make a good point there.”

“Please?” She begged again, “I-I’ll take your shifts for a week! I’ll cover for you whenever you ask! I’m desperate, Kyros. I’m literally offering you my soul.”

I sighed again, shifting and considering her. “...Ugh, fine, fine.”

“YES!” She leapt into the air, punching it triumphantly.

“One night!” I told her firmly. “One night. One dinner. That’s it. And you’ll not only cover my shifts, you’ll bake me three dozen of your famous lemon squares.” I could think of one particular person who would particularly love that part of the deal. I almost smiled at the thought of his delight once he got a taste of them.

“Done and done!” She squealed, then lunged at me, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck and hug me tightly. “Kyros, you’re a life saver! I could kiss you!”

I untangled her, laughing lightly. “Let’s not and say we didn’t.” I returned quietly, shaking my head and wondering just what the hell I had gotten myself into.

She echoed my laugh, squeezing my hands in hers. “I’ll pick you up after sundown. Wear something clean, yeah?”

“I know how to meet my partner’s parents,” I scolded her, giving her an overly exaggerated frown which was quickly replaced by a smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll kill it. You’ll regret having asked me later, because they won’t stop pestering you about what a great guy I am.”

Her grin was infectious and she patted my cheek fondly. “You’re the best boyfriend ever. I am very lucky.”

“Yeah yeah.” I said, taking her hand away and giving it a gentle squeeze. “See you in a while, Raz.”

“It’s a date!”

I waved her back off across the clearing, waiting until she was nearly out of sight to turn and duck between the trunks and vegetation at the jungle’s edge. My pulse was already thrumming as I made my way deeper into the thick throng of massive trees, my feet following a well worn and familiar path. I knew it would be hard, only having a few hours with Yared before I had to go meet up with Raz. It was hard ever leaving his side, almost torturous to have to do so. I longed for a day that maybe I didn’t have to go back to the tiny village on the riverside. It had only been a few months, yet I already couldn’t stand to be away from the snake longer than I had to be. What had he called himself? A Zmia? I smiled at the memory of late nights exchanging cultural bits and pieces. Those few months prior, the reptilian people of the jungle beyond my village were a silent menace; a distant warning against wandering alone. Though to me they had been more like a legend. Had I gone back in time and told myself I would be falling head over heels for a half man, half snake, I would have laughed myself to death and back. Now though, I couldn’t see him enough. Couldn’t keep my hands off him. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.

 And even when I was forced away from his company, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. More than once I had zoned out at work, nearly losing a hand in the process. I was already in hot water with my boss, having skirted so many jobs just to spend more time with him. I almost winced at the memory of his ire.

I remembered my first job at the river side logger, back when I had first moved here nearly a year ago. A new life. A fresh start. Far away from my own judgmental and bossy parents. I had scoffed at the warnings of the locals, and decided a stroll through the beautiful lush jungle was exactly what I needed to take my mind off of fresh calluses and sore muscles. How it quickly became my routine to take off into the deep vegetation whenever I got a moment to myself. Away from prying eyes and unspoken questions. After all, by most standards I was a handsome, hardworking, and available young man who, as of yet, had shown no interest in the local beauties. I meant to keep to myself, but the desire to just be alone made me an enigma to the locals. Many of whom had never left the riverside village. To them, I was the exotic. Even though the village itself was only a few generations old.

Raz had been my first friend, and so far remained my only. I suspected she had her own reasons, but she had never shown any remote interest in me. Had never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable, or put me on the spot regarding my preference in partners. And she had kept my secret faithfully when I had eventually opened up to her one drunken night. Not that it was outright forbidden or taboo; I just honestly didn’t feel like it was anyone’s business. Nor did I want to be some hot piece of gossip in a sparingly un-diverse town. So it was the least I could do to help her out of her own tricky situation. Though hopefully my situation would be only temporary.

When I had met Yared… life had become instantly better. He had slithered into my life so nonchalantly, and now I had everything I ever wanted. Well, almost everything. It would be nice not to have to leave him every few hours to maintain my presence in the town. The villagers were still deeply suspicious of their reptilian neighbors, and both parties preferred to keep to themselves. Which left little more than whispers of rumored sightings between the two. I grinned, thinking that maybe Yared and I might pave a whole new path for our two worlds. It was weird to think we might be setting a standard for future relations between our people. Assuming I could get through tonight, that was. I didn’t imagine the Zmia would be too pleased that I wouldn’t be able to spend that long with him. Especially after his promises from the morning. He could be a little selfish at times, though I wondered how much of that was a product of his culture. His people didn’t tend to live in villages or communities, so a life of solitude might certainly warrant a sense of one’s own self interests being the most important. I wondered if that was also a reflection of why he treated me how he did. I found I loved how clingy he was, how much he relished my time and company. How he lived for my attention and praise. I almost chuckled. No, he certainly wouldn’t be content with such a short visit.

But it would be worth it, I reasoned. Because with Raz covering my shifts for the next week or two, maybe I could spend the night with him. Or maybe a few nights… My stomach skittered with excitement at the thought, and I felt a flush at my collar.

I heard his coils moving along the forest floor before I saw him, and a grin was already lighting my face as I turned to greet him. Briefly I wondered what he was doing so far from his cave, but was just so happy to be able to see him again, I hardly cared. 

His long black tail was woven amid the tree he had just slithered out of, and again I marveled at him. Rose grey skin, raven black hair, scarlet red eyes. I loved the way his cream scales crept up his stomach from his serpent lower half, reaching all the way to the underside of his chin. He lowered himself to my level as I stepped over, and I trailed my fingers fondly over that soft underbelly of his. The scales were cool to the touch, as was his skin as I traced my hand over his abdomen along his ribs to rest my palm at his waist.

Slowly he slithered in a circle around me, and I pivoted in place as his long tail writhed, curling about us. I smiled again, feeling my skin zip with electricity. But when I looked up to meet his gaze, there was a slight frown on his thin lips. Not overly surprising in and of itself; Yared had a demeanor as cold as his temperature sometimes. Yet this time, I didn’t like the way those lips pinched together slightly at the center.

“You ok?” I asked, my voice laced with concern.

He titled his head to the side, distractedly tracing his fingertips lightly down my arm. Usually he would have completely enveloped me in his embrace by now, eager to steal my warmth. I found a frown forming on my own lips.

“...What is a ‘boyfriend’?” He asked, his voice a little tight.

I was surprised at the question and felt my heart skip a few beats. “Ah… that’s..” A flush rose to my cheeks, and I rubbed at the back of my neck. “When you’re courting someone, they are your boyfriend… or girlfriend, if they are a girl.” I considered him from the corner of my eye. “Where did you-”

“And a ‘date’?”

A tickle of realization hit me, spreading across my face. “Were you watching me?”

His frown deepened into a scowl. “What is a ‘date’?” He pressed.

“It’s… like… the time spent with the person you're courting. Like, if you go out to eat, or do some sort of activity together.” I struggled to find the right words, hoping my explanation would make sense.

“Why?”

“What?”

He scowled more, and I felt his tail curling tighter around us. “Why have these things?”

I sighed, a little confused and exasperated. Though not overly put off by his blunt manners as they were rather commonplace. “Well, to get to know each other. To see if the two of you could be life time partners.”

“To see if you would be compatible as mates.” He offered coldly.

“Exactly!” I smiled up at him, reaching out with my free hand to run it over his tail. It was more like a dark chocolate brown, I decided, not black. I could see the color more vividly here in the sunlight that broke through the canopy of emerald leaves overhead.

“Do humans have multiple mates?”

I looked up at him, surprised. His scaly brow was knotted over his long slender nose, and his fangs flashed as his tongue darted out into the afternoon air.

“I suppose some do-”

“Zmia do not.” He hissed.

I realized then he was angry, his sharp pupils thin, his posture tense. His tongue flicked back out, and he bared his fangs at me again.

“Yared-”

“Perhaps I should have mentioned before.” He cut me off before I could say more. “But I didn’t think I needed to.” His eyes narrowed. “I do not want to share you with anyone else. If you already have partners, I don’t think we should continue.”

A deadened feeling wrapped around my core, leaving me with a sinking feeling and a cold spot at the base of my neck. My mouth dropped open, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. He scowled back at me, seemingly unperturbed by my shock. My hand dropped away from him.

“You… I-I mean…” I shook my head, swallowing the painful lump that strangled my throat. “... If that’s what you want… did-” I caught myself, biting my tongue. But I decided I had to know. “Did I do something wrong?”

His ears twitched, and I saw the tip of his tail flick. “Perhaps not by human standards. It was unfair of me to assume you wished to be exclusive as my mate-” He seemed to choke on the word, stopping sharply. I saw him adjust his jaw before continuing. “If you already have that female-”

“What female?” I cut him off sharply, suddenly remembering what he had said early. “Wait, Yared, are you talking about Raz? Were you watching us earlier? Is that what this is about?”

He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “She seems fond of you.” He replied bitterly.

I shook my head incredulously. “Raz is just a friend!” I tried to tell him. “We’re not-”

“She called you her ‘boyfriend’.” He shot back. “You are having this ‘date’ you explained. Why else if not testing her as a potential mate?”

I threw up my hands, shaking my head again. “That’s not- She’s just asking me to do her a favor!” I reached up, trying to touch his face. He jerked away, and I felt a stabbing pain in my gut at the rejection. “We’re just pretending, because she told her parents she was seeing someone.”

“You are helping her deceive her parents?” His thunderstruck brow deepened, “That seems unreasonable. Why perpetrate this lie? Why must she have a mate?”

“I don’t know! I guess her parents have been pressuring her, so she just told them that to get them to leave her alone.” I resisted the urge to reach out to him again, taking a step back instead.

“She said she would kiss you.” He hissed, and his red eyes narrowed. “She squeezed you with her body. She must like you.”

I felt my own anger beginning to bubble in my stomach, a stinging wave of backlash from the anguish he had caused. I scowled right back at him, crossing my arms over my own chest.

“She’s just happy she doesn’t have to fess up to her parents. Raz is just a friend, Yared. Nothing more!”

He bared his fangs at me, and his whole long body inflated slightly with his hiss. “She didn’t look like that.”

“Even if she was interested in me - Which she’s not, by the way! - I’m not interested in her. Not even remotely,” I snapped, “And you should trust me enough to believe me when I say that.” I threw up my hands again. “And you should trust me enough to ask me before you start throwing around accusations-”

“Hardly an accusation if I saw it with my own eyes-”

“You saw me agree to do a friend a favor,” I snarled, “You assumed it was something worse. You didn’t even ASK me! Just jumped to conclusions!”

That seemed to silence him, if momentarily, and he stared at me with his scarlet red eyes. I shook my head a final time, spinning and clambering angrily over his long tail. As my feet found solid purchase again, free from his coils, I pulled my satchel around and started digging through it.

“...You are not interested in being her mate?” He asked, his voice still icy but softer.

“No!” I practically yelled, spinning to face him again. “There’s only one person I’m interested in being my “mate”, and he’s being an absolute ass right now.” I yanked the bakery parchment from my sack, tossing it at him. “HERE! Take your damn treats, you big, dumb snake!” Now I was shouting, and he barely caught the parcel I hurled at his chest with surprising force. “I hope you like them. Sorry for thinking of you every minute of every day. Sorry for just trying to buy a way to spend more time with you.” I clenched my jaw, swallowing back tears. “I hope you enjoy yourself as much as you look like you do, because you’ll have none of me!”

With that, I spun on my heel and stomped out of the woods. I didn’t look back. Couldn’t bear to. The sting of his words and mine still ringing in my ears. My hopes dashed on the jungle carpet... But I still had a date to prepare for.

...

UPDATE: Final part HERE

#naga #naga boyfriend #naga lover #mlm #monster romance #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster x human #terato #exophilia #monster match #monster doodles #lovers quarrel #angst #citrus

[thewheezingwyvern]

Giveaway Prize

Congratulations to my follower giveaway back in December to @engel-hageshii. Thank you so much for your patience but I have your match up fic and headcanons! I hope you enjoy it! 

I match you wiiiiith.....

One of the biggest reasons I came to this match up is your caring spirit. You’ve made it very clear that you long to protect and look after the people closest to you. Not only do you try to protect them, you actively try to build them up, help them grow and try to do what you can to make them happy. I think Tamaki would really grow to admire that about you and find you strong for doing so. Initially your quiet and reserved nature would be an obstacle since Tamaki is a shy sort and would likely not try to break through that barrier on his own. However after the two of you acclimated to each other, and your more easy going personality comes out, I think he would get smitten pretty quickly but would hold onto those feelings forever and a day.

ღYou two met to take down a dangerous black market arms dealer that was able to avoid legal ramifications. Since you were a vigilante and had a teleportation Quirk, you were ideal for breaking in to a compound and finding incriminating evidence and leave it somewhere public so the cops could formally take him down.

ღ Because you were a Vigilante, he knew he really should be repeatedly seeing you casually. So Tamaki found himself coming up with reasons to meet you and spend time with you.

ღ Tamaki started a habit of bringing extra snacks ever since you showed up for a mission together and you hadn’t eaten. He kept doing it because it was the only gift he could muster the courage to give for a while.

ღ The first time he actually did get you gift, it was of a book that you had rambled about wanting to check out to make conversation. Tamaki had to hide his blush when he saw the way your smile lit up.

ღ One mission you accidentally teleported them both into the river and it was a cold day. The two of you spent the rest of the evening huddled up in his apartment, wrapped in warm blankets and drinking hot cocoa.

Kinks: Daddy language, slight bit of choking, shower sex, tentacles, Quirk play

Word Count: 2.3 K

                                     ┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐

Teleportation had been an extremely useful Quirk for you and your Vigilante career. And it had proved to pair very well with Suneater’s Quirk since the two of you had started teaming up to take down exceptionally tricky Villains that managed to evade law enforcement. It had helped you dodge lethal blows, teleport key items to safety and even just save you a few steps up a flight of stairs when you were exhausted. Really it was a boon.

But every Quirk had a drawback.

This time it came in the form of you standing naked in the middle of a running shower, hot water sluicing down your back from the shower head and a cloud of steam wafting around you. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, teleporting without your clothes but it had been a long time since the last incident. That alone would have been ok but you weren’t alone. Hot embarrassment flooded you, your eyes growing wide at the sight. You were staring into the bright red face of Amajiki Tamaki. Silken black locks moulded to his skull beneath the heavy embrace of the water that drenched him. The rush of water hummed through the air, sheathing your skin in a dewy sheen. 

“B-b-b--”

“Tamaki!” you squealed.

Mortified, your hands flew up to cover your bare chest, a fresh wave of heat crashing against your cheeks. But immediately you remembered that your lower half was still very exposed and your hands flew down in a panic to cover yourself.  Tamaki had already whipped around, a bright red blush all the way down his neck by the time you had settled with an arm wrapped over your chest and the other hand shyly dipping down to cover down low. 

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-I god I’m so sorry.”

Tamaki screwed his eyes shut, feeling his cock twitch against his abdomen. Trembling fingers knotted into fists by his sides, gross embarrassment overwhelming him along with the distressingly powerful urge to turn around and touch you. To kiss you like he’d wanted for months. Would you accept him? Did he even dare to ask you to stay? 

He could hear your hands clamoring along the rail of the sliding door, glass panel shrouded with condensation. Before you could slip out or even open the door, Tamaki closed a hand around your wrist, face still a mere inch from the shower wall. Weeks he had fantasized seeing you like this, having you this close to touch and taste and he couldn’t just let you go that easy. The feel of your pulse beneath his fingers was a grounding sensation but with it, he found his own heart rate spiking. The tiny whisper of his voice that had been bubbling in his throat rapidly withered and left him silent. 

“Stay.” he uttered out to you in the tiniest voice.

It was such a quiet request that was nearly drowned out by the pounding of the water. But you heard it. That little plea had you freeze in place, fixated on the feel of his skin against yours. The red of his face and neck only deepened as he struggled to find his voice again. There was a fine trembling in his hands that you could feel and that was enough to grant you the barest sliver of strength to find your own voice.

“T-Tamaki?”

Hearing the quiver you spoke with, the quiet lilt of curiosity had his blood running hot. Desire was the flame that urged him to turn his head slowly until he was peeking at you from over his shoulder. Dark eyes flickered, wreathed in the red flush of his embarrassment. The pro hero swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting against the urge that he had to withdraw into his shell. The opportunity was one had only dreamed of and he just couldn’t let it slip away.

“B-butterfly..p-please stay…”

Butterfly. It wasn’t the first time that you had heard that nickname but he wondered if you realized yet that butterflies were his favorite. He wondered if you realized just how much he wanted to kiss you whenever you were really close to him on missions. You were a vigilante, he shouldn’t be yearning for this but you had somehow dominated his thoughts anyways. Thunderstruck you stared for a moment, unable to believe what you heard. When your brain finally grasped what he was asking of you, you grabbed a bottle of body wash and squeezed a healthy amount into your palm.

Working the thick cream into a lather, you set to work gliding your hands along his back, feeling your fluster increase with every stroke. The muscles cording along his shoulders were more defined than you had thought they would be, but hero work did have it’s way of carving strength into your body. Diligently you worked the suds down his arms, feeling your body grow hotter and his own tense beneath your touch. Tamaki swallowed thickly. It was hard for his mind to not wander, to meander down the path of you slipping your hands around to his chest. Your fingers would linger, following the shape of his pectorals before trailing downwards to relish in the lines of his abdomen. His cock twitched again at the thought. 

Tamaki took a deep breath and turned around, desperate for you to touch him more but also burning to lay eyes on you again. Despite turning his front towards you, the pro still had his head turned to the side, finding himself far too embarrassed to meet your gaze. A soft gasp caught in your throat when you caught sight of his very erect cock. You pulled back your hands abruptly, worried you would try to take things too far and touch where it was unwelcome. But one of your wrists was captured in his grip before it was pulled slowly back to his torso. Tamaki was even brighter red, face still turned to the side so you couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“D-don’t stop…” he stuttered out to you, his voice barely above a whisper.

A pair of hands settled onto your waist, long fingers gripping you firmly with a force that would have made him seem confident had you not known him. Tamaki pulled you closer with a gentle strength. The scent of his body wash, a pleasant blend of rain and bamboo, wafted over you both in a cloud. Having you wrapped in his own scent left him feeling more aroused. It was an unseen mark he left on you, a claim that marked you as his. The increase in desire for you left him emboldened and suddenly you were pressed against his front, hard cock twitching against your lower abdomen.

“I need y-you, Butterfly.”

His lips tentatively found yours, hot tongue swiping at the seam of your lips for entry. It was pure bliss for him when he realized you did not hesitate before allowing him to deepen his kiss. Your lips were even softer than he had thought they would be and the sheer sensation of your tongue lapping and twisting with his kindled the fire that burned in him. Passion burst in sparks and it drove Tamaki to cradle the back of your head with his right hand while his left mapped out a path to the dip in your lower back. With a firm tug and a strength that betrayed his flustered appearance, he pressed you even more firmly against him.

“Butterfly…” Came his hoarse whisper when he pulled away for air.

The moment felt like it was his first glass of water in days. The feel of your skin against him was nothing short of divine and he needed more of it; more of you. Open mouthed kisses were pressed to the curve of your neck, tongue tasting tenderly along your pulse. That was when he felt it: your hips rocking against him as you desperately sought out the sweet friction that you longed for against your clit. Tamaki was moving suddenly, guiding you back and to the side until the slick tiles met your back. Steam swirled around the shower as your thigh was guided up to hook around narrow hips.

“I-I want to be inside you...Is that okay?”

“God yes! Tamaki…” You kissed him with fervor, “I have wanted this for weeks!”

Tamaki’s breathing grew ragged. Weeks. The lilt in your voice painted with the sound of desperation was velvety rich against his ears. The way you touched him, kissed him, it was all intoxicating and he wanted every drop of yourself that you were willing to give. A hand dipped between your legs, fingers stroking along your sopping folds. The slick that had gathered was hot and in abundance and it had his cock twitching for you.

“Is this all for me?” he asked in awe, a smile spreading on his face when you nodded, “This is for you.”

The same hand that had played with your needy sex shifted his dick until the head nudged just into your slick heat. The long groan you gave, pussy quivering around him, was a siren song to his ears. It lured out the temptation that grew inside of him, made Tamaki want to fall even deeper into you against the voice in his head that urged him to take it slow. You deserved it slow. But god he was so hungry for you. The way your pussy was trying to greedily suck him in only made his heart pound and his hands shake.

“You’re so beautiful…” those lips kissed at the shell of your ear, “A p-pretty little B-Butterfly just for me.”

“Why a butterfly?” you asked, a groan escaping your full mouth when he suckled at your earlobe, “Why that nickname?”

Tamaki pulled back, face flushing bright red again before sinking his cock deeper into your velvety heat. With a loud moan and a gasp he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You felt so perfect. He’d come too far to back out now from telling you the truth so he took a deep and steadying breath, kissing softly at your skin.

“Because they’re one of my favorites.”

Tamaki rocked his hips in slow strokes, dick dragging along your walls in perfect bliss. The hot water pounded against his side, sending a find spray falling over you. Being out of the direct stream of the shower brought a chill over you, even as the hero continued to thrust within you. But the chill also pebbled your nipples to hard little peaks, perfect little nubs for his fingers to toy with. Hero work left his fingers mildly calloused, creating a delicious rasp against your sensitive buds and it immersed you in an even deeper pleasure.

Courage took hold of you then, “Tamaki...have you had any calamari today?”

Black eyes hazed with lust bored into yours. Realization bloomed clear and bright in his gaze, hips jerking once more to sheath himself fully into your heat, “Yeah…”

“Will you use your tentacles on me?”

The question, murmured in earnest, sent another sharp spike of arousal spearing through Tamaki. For a brief moment he hesitated but the grip of arousal had greatly diminished the doubt and anxiety that would have normally hung over him like a cloud. His fingers shifted on his command into long, wriggling tentacles, snaking around your torso as he continued to thrust up inside of you. A coil slipped up the skin of your back only to creep around your throat, squeezing lightly in a move that left you more helpless within his grasp. The rapid shift in power balance had you leaking around the thick cock that was moving inside of you. And it was this shift in dynamic that loosened your tongue for him.

“Ohhh-ohhh Daddy, yes! Harder-!”

Dark eyes shot wide open and that was the point that tipped Tamaki over the edge of his composure. The feral roared to life in his blood and suddenly his thrusts grew faster and rougher, a low growl escaping his lips. Slick tentacles twisted around your bared breasts and squeezed, tips fluttering over your pebbled nipples to only add to your burgeoning pleasure. Another long coil twisted its way down to press against your neglected clit, twisting circles around the sensitive bud. 

“Ah-! B-Butterfly..! Clench around me just like tha- ahhhh!” his breaths were coming out in ragged pants, “Kiss me.”

You obeyed without question, pressing your lips to his, allowing his tongue to crash against yours as he continued to thrust inside of you. Every part of you was awash with pleasure and stimulation, tightening that coil in your abdomen as you drew closer to the edge. Bamboo and rain wafting over you in a cloud. The tentacle around your throat squeezed, not painfully tight but enough to make it just a bit harder to take in a proper breath. Tamaki decided that filling you with his cock wasn’t enough. With a passing thought, his left hand shifted as well, fingers morphing into curling tendrils, suction cups slowly dragging and catching on your skin. 

You squealed into his kiss when first one, then two tentacles pushed their way into your quivering sex. Deliciously full and rapidly growing drunk on the feeling of those tentacles pressing against that spongy spot within you, you bucked wildly to reach your release. Tamaki released your lips just in time to hear you howl in pleasure, white spots dancing before your eyes. The way you creamed around his cock had him close to bursting but there was one final push to come for him.

“Daddy ahhhh-!”

That was when hot seed burst from his swollen tip, flooding into your clenching pussy. When the two of you grew still, mouths parted with heavy panting he withdrew his tentacles. Tamaki didn’t give you time to feel achingly empty before he pulled you into the shower stream, embracing you tightly beneath the hot water. The hug was crushingly tight, almost like he thought you’d disappear if he let go.

“B-Butterfly will you...s-stay with me tonight?”

Your shaking fingers threaded through his drenched black hair before you whispered back to him, “I will. As long as you want.”

#BNHA #BNHA smut #BNHA matchup #Tamaki x Reader #Amajiki Tamaki

[onmykneesforhotdilfs]

Hello, I wanted to ask you for a special shipment for Valentine's Day that is about the wedding of bloom and valtor and their married life, I would appreciate it very much, I hope I will not be a bother, thank you. ps: I love your writing bye.

First of all, of course you can have special shipment for valentine's day that is about the wedding of Bloom and Valtor and their married life.

Secondly, thank you so much for your kind words. You guys can't even believe how much your encouragement means to me.

Thirdly, I have like 5 more requests sitting in my inbox but please be patient, i promise to get to them as soon as possible. School is sitting on my chest currently. They will be done, the only question is when will I find the necessary time to do them.

Ok so without further ado, here we go. I decided to do this headcanon style, but if you guys want full fledged wedding or married life ff, just send in a request and it'll be done (eventually).

Sparxshipping wedding/married life headcanons (valentine's day special)

Engagement

Weirdly enough, it took place on Earth instead of Domino. Valtor organized an incredible evening in a rather nice restaurant, invited both of her families and all of her closest friends, Winx and specialists, including Sky (Bloom remained on friendly terms with the guy after the break up). The plot twist, he never told anyone he planned to propose. His manners and etiquette threatened to kick him in the ass for not asking Oritel for his permission to marry his daughter, but he had a hunch his future father in law would say "No." and that would do more harm than good in the future. Mike was more fond of him, especially when he noticed his rival (Oritel seemed to have the habit of making people dislike him) hated the magician with passion.

Valtor picked out the ring months before and he was just waiting for the perfect moment to present his beloved with it. The perfect moment seemed to strike when Bloom said one evening she always wanted to get all her friends and both of her families together on one big dinner in some nice Earth restaurant so they can all just chill for one night (she wanted to show her birth parents the planet she grew up on and she also wanted it to have a symbolic meeting for all of her friends). So when the opportunity struck, Valtor took it and wouldn't let go. Bloom protested to him organizing and paying for dinner she wanted but he had none of it and simply told her to 'relax and leave it all in his capable hands'.

All of Bloom's friends accepted the call immediately but Oritel made Valtor sweat for a few days before even he succumbed to his daughter's invitation (also, he suspected Marion had her fingers in tipping the king over the edge because if Valtor learned anything while he worked in the palace 20+ years ago, it was that Marion, despite her innocent looking facade, was quite the blackmailer and if he deduced correctly, she wore the pants in that household).

He was not nervous for a moment while he planned the whole thing even though he expected it at least on some level. But nothing could've prepared him for that moment when the dinner was done and they all stood up to leave the restaurant. The minutes were agonizing for him and despite everything he started second guessing his decision. It took all of his self control not to chicken out.

As it turned out, he had nothing to be anxious about, because as soon as he dropped to one knee, Oritel made an inhuman sound in the background, and popped the question while presenting Bloom with the ring, she threw herself on him and screamed 'YES!" in his ear. He could vaguely hear her friends screaming from excitement and happiness, that was mostly Stella, and one not so very happy voice saying "God damnit NO!", but he paid them no attention as his shaky fingers slipped the ring on Bloom's equally shaky hands. She threw her hands around his neck and kissed him while happy tears streamed down her face.

Wedding

The newly engaged couple was in no hurry to tie to knot and that seemed to displease everyone, mainly Stella because she wanted to go shopping for wedding dresses and bridesmaids dress (not that she needed the excuse to go shopping but 'Guysssss, this is special!'), but Oritel. As far as Valtor managed to catch, he was persistent in making his daughter change his mind about marrying Valtor. Then, overnight it seemed to him, Oritel started being more friendly and willing to spend some time with Valtor to 'get to know him'. He didn't understand the sudden shift in the beginning, but when his fiance took time to explain she threatened to burn all the expensive curtains in the palace if the king doesn't start minding his own business, everything fell into place.

The wedding preparations took over a month when they actually started planning, which was well over two years after the engagement but they figured, if they waited this long, they can wait a bit longer too. It was decided that the wedding will take place on Andros where their first official meeting happened, on a Colosseum he created to save her life when Icy's ice block knocked her unconscious into the water. Flora offered the help with the decorations, Stella dragged Bloom dress shopping and Musa and the rest of the fairies took care of other essentials in consultation with the wedding planner Bloom and Valtor personally picked out.

Despite the fact they already live together, they decided to somewhat respect the tradition and spent the night before the wedding separately. This was partially done to make Oritel a bit more docile at their wedding and to honor the tradition of groom not seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding. They both had difficulty with that as was evident when neither of them could sleep that night, their bodies and fire inside too accustomed to the other being near. Bloom spent the night on Domino and Valtor went back to Alfea. The parting kiss the two shared had to be interrupted by Marion and Vanessa, so neither Oritel nor Mike came out to see what's taking their daughter so long to say goodbye, before it turned into a heavy makeout session. The two had to be almost hauled apart, Marion and Vanessa holding Bloom as Daphne took Valtor by the collar of his shirt and dragged him away to Alfea.

The morning brought no relief however because Valtor was too busy lowkey freaking out and Bloom herself couldn't stop rushing around the palace to fetch stuff she needed despite the fact maids could bring it to her. Valtor's mental breakdown was stopped by Andy, his best man weirdly enough (they got really friendly after the whole Earth mission and black circle fiasco. There was originally a bit of jealousy on Valtor's part because Bloom seemed to really like Andy and it reached the peak when he found out they dated back in the day. But Andy's quirky personality and unending questioning about magic really brought them closer together and helped Valtor realize, Andy is one of the best humans to have around).

Bloom got her fair share of support from Stella, who even threatened to slap her friend on the wrist for not sleeping, but sympathy shone in her eyes when Bloom told her she couldn't sleep because Valtor wasn't there. She also made a quite inappropriate joke in a very inappropriate time just as her parents, both pairs, entered a room. "So you couldn't sleep because Valtor isn't here or was it the exercise that is done primarily beneath the sheets that you missed?" Oritel gripped the door frame so hard Bloom though she even heard it crack. Bloom blushed like a tomato and gritted her friend's name through her teeth but luckily blonde took the hint and shut her mouth.

As the wedding approached, Valtor got even more fidgety but tried to fight it because he knew in just a few short hours, Bloom will be his forever. All that time, Andy stood on the side and quietly laughed at the man and a friend he always associated with being stoic and good with covering up his emotions. He would've never thought Valtor of all people would succumb to something as trivial as wedding jitters.

When Bloom and her family, together with Stella arrived on Andros, guests and everybody else were moved to the place of ceremony, only Oritel and Mike remaining with her. Bloom decided she wanted to have both of her dads give her away at her wedding day. The tricky part was getting them to get along because Oritel wanted to be the one to give her away ("I'm her father, damn it! Why should I share my right to give away MY daughter on her wedding day?" "Oh please, you royal ass, you don't even like that lad she's marrying! Think of me as a supervisor that makes sure overprotective father of a bride doesn't actually STEAL his daughter so she can't marry!" "I'm the KING! I don't need supervision!" "If both of you don't SHUT UP IMMEDIATELY I'm going to walk down that isle alone." That phrase spoken by Bloom shut them up and the two, although with big frowns on their faces, reluctantly agreed)

Valtor's breath got stuck in his throat when he saw Bloom first time in a wedding dress. The dress had thin straps holding and supporting the dress on her delicate shoulders as the flowy lacy dress sat on her tiny frame perfectly. He saw her stop for a second as she took him in for the first time as well in a burgundy suit with a purple tie and handkerchief of the same color. He didn't even notice as both of Bloom's fathers kept shooting each other looks over their daughter's head during the walk. He only saw Bloom. He woke up from his daydream when Bloom's small delicate hand was placed in his by two larger hands, one belonging to Mike, other to Oritel. He nodded to both of them and gripped her hand like it's his lifeline.

The wedding officiate was saying some nonsense that Valtor didn't listen until it was time to exchange the rings and swear to each other for all eternity. When the ring exchange was done, when all that needed to be said was said and the famous, long awaited words "You may kiss the bride." were spoken Valtor finally relaxed and leaned down to kiss his wife for the first time. The crowd went wild, Stella screamed and Oritel almost fainted, Mike and Vanessa were seen wiping the tears from their eyes. Overall, the wedding was a success.

Roxy, to Andy's big surprise and delight, caught the bouquet. The three story cake was cut and smeared all over newly weds faces. Congratulations were proclaimed and a lot of kisses were shared. A carriage with unicorns, similar to the one on Daphne's wedding got rolled in the moment Bloom and Valtor's feet touched the solid ground. Bloom couldn't contain her excitement and she rounded straight to the unicorns while the guests and her husband said the last goodbye for at least a month. She was shaken out of her trance when Valtor grabbed her hand and then lifted her bridal style into his arms and stepped into the carriage with her in his arms. The couple waved to the crowd beneath and shared a kiss before the carriage disappeared into the portal.

Married life

They spent their honeymoon gallivanting around different worlds but they remained mostly on Earth. They both preferred warmer locations, so tropical resorts were where they chose to spend their honeymoon in. Bloom actually had no involvement in planning of the honeymoon so she was so pleasantly surprised when the portal opened on Maldives and she was greeted by a sight of turquoise water and small but fancy apartments built on water. For someone who seems to spit on a traditional views more than he follows them, she was surprised how many superficial, at least in his opinion, customs Valtor followed for her. Aside from deciding not to see her before the wedding as mentioned before, he also insisted on carrying her over the doorstep.

They spent the whole month without phones and annoying phonecalls from Stella, one of the main reasons why they chose not to bring anything but the emergency bracelet which can be used to contact either party only in a case of an emergency. They had to explain to Stella that new dress in Vogue was not an emergency and therefore, the bracelet was given to Techna because she was the only one they trusted not to abuse the right to call.

When they finally returned from honeymoon, and after they spent good hour and a half convincing Oritel Bloom's not pregnant, a joint decision was made that the newlyweds will be given the keys to the separate wing of the castle where their privacy was guaranteed (yeah right, as if Valtor will get anything even resembling privacy with Bloom while Oritel's around).

Their married life wasn't too different from their normal life. Valtor would wake up first most of the time and would make breakfast for Bloom. Bloom would sleep in most of the time when she didn't have to go anywhere and Valtor would sometimes have to use drastic measures to get her out of bed.

They shower together because 'it saves water', oh wait that was the excuse they used before they were married. Now they shower together because they're married and what they do doesn't concern anyone.

Life in the castle had some advantages but they'll be damned if it didn't have it's fair share of disadvantages as well. The biggest one being, well, Oritel. There were a few times they were almost caught in a compromising situation but somehow they always managed to avoid the full blast. They both knew it was only the matter of time however. Valtor was even tempted to leave the doors unlocked just so Oritel would get what he came to see and hopefully gauge his eyes out so he could longer disturb them. Bloom swatted him over the head for that one.

They both made an appointment not to sacrifice their friendships just because they're married so Winx were guests quite often.

Valtor still decided to teach in Alfea when it was absolutely necessary and when Faragonda asked him nicely few days in advance if he would be willing to teach the class. Bloom would sometimes sneak into the class as well and sit in the back. She would even take notes from time to time.

They would practice magic quite often together in the backyard of the castle that was customized for such situations. But their favorite place in the whole castle was Valtor's office/library where they could both spend hours in, while just reading books and drinking tea.

#baltor x bloom #bloom #bloom x baltor #bloom x valtor #sparxshipping #valtor #valtor x bloom #winx #winx club #sparxshipping prompts #sparxshipping questions #sparxshipping requests

[ganseys-hoe]

Ok so a lot of people are saying a lot of things about the resolution of Whiskey’s storyline and I just wanted to share my thoughts (even though no one asked)

*SPOILERS

First off: I dont think this was a perpetuation of the “cheating bisexual” stereotype

While his sexuality is never confirmed in the comics, i dont think hes attracted to women

He says that he’s not a flashy person, that he doesn’t want to stand out in the way that he thinks he will if he dates a man.

If he wasn’t gay, maybe bi or pan, then him still being true to himself could mean staying with his girlfriend, and not standing out.

But then he says he can't be like Bitty, he can’t stand out

‘Can’t be like him” implies that something (internalised homophobia, his family’s beliefs) is getting in the way of him being like bitty and “standing out” (being in a relationship with a man)

Won’t, or isn’t, would imply that he has some variability in his options, like he could try to not act on his attraction to men, and still have some semblance of romantic happiness with a woman. If he used either of these words, it would indicate that he is attracted to women.

But since he says can’t, it leads me to believe that him being who he truly is would cause the end of a romantic/sexual relationship with a woman, that he isn’t attracted to girls

So if he is not attracted to women, he is not bisexual, and is therefore not perpetuating this stereotype by kissing that lax bro haha

While I interpreted his character as being gay, i think that he himself is confused. He’s trying to cling onto his girlfriend from home while experimenting with people he really is attracted to

Internalised Homophobia (his relationship to other queer characters)

So this is a big one

We see all of the characters through Bitty’s eyes, and so when Whiskey is cold to him, we feel personally hurt, we believe bitty when he complains to Jack that Whiskey hates him

But after 4.9 (the iconic lax bro/whiskey kiss), we can see him differently

He doesn’t hate Bitty, he resents him. He resents Bitty’s ability to be out, he resents bitty’s relationship.

I also think he sees bitty as vulnerable, something he’s been training himself not to be for a very long time. Whiskey sees Bitty’s openness as weakness, as something someone can exploit to hurt him.

I also think Connor has a lot of internalised homophobia. His relationship with Bitty reminds me a lot of Isak and Eskild from the “Pride” skam clip. Both Isak and Whiskey see being open about their sexuality and proud of it as being flashy, as shoving it in someone's face. Eskild and Bitty both know that being who you are is not being “over the top”

When Connor see’s Jack and Bitty kiss on the ice that day, he probably feels a lot of things

1. Jealous, wanting what they have

2. Uncomfortable with the backlash they’re exposing themselves to

3. Embarrassed, thinking its “too much”, that they could have had that moment in private

He calls himself a private person, and uses that characteristic as a reason why he isn’t out, which I think demonstrates how he thinks liking boys is something that should be kept quieter than liking girls

THAT (yes, THAT) party

Ok so I’m a firm believer that Chad L. (the lax captain) is who Whiskey was kissing that night

I don’t think it was a one time thing, due to Bitty’s previous mention of Whiskey hanging out with the lax team  

Also the way they look at each other is TENDER, like no amount of alcohol can fabricate that affection

MOVING ON, the fact that Whiskey did this at a hockey party and not a Haus party is very telling

It reminds me a lot of the AFTG series, where Neil wouldn’t drink in order to not divulge anything about his mafia-affiliated dad. Obviously Whiskey’s predicament is not life and death if people find out his secret, but I maintain that he chose this particular party to finally cut loose at for a reason. because he knew that it was the one party Bitty didn’t want them to go to, the one party where Bitty was sure not to be.

Now this raises a tricky question. Whiskey is generally very cagey about his attraction to boys, but is in a public place when spotted kissing that lax bro. Does he at this point feel so comfortable with the lax crowd that he’s able to do this, or his problem entirely with Bitty knowing?

Because there were other hockey boys at that party that could have spotted him, I believe his problem is solely with Bitty knowing. But why?

Maybe because he knows he can’t pass it off as a drunken mistake to Bitty and be done with the conversation. Maybe because he knows bitty will try to tell him how much he supports him, and Whiskey doesn’t want Bitty to see how vulnerable and scared he really is.

I think it shows tremendous character growth for the both of them that Bitty backs off and leaves Whiskey room to tell him on his own terms, and that Whiskey has grown by being able to confront this topic with the one person he was trying to hide from.

The Ending

UUggghh I loved the ending

I know a lot of people see the comics as saying OUT = GOOD, HAPPY

CLOSETED = BAD, REPRESSED

Although Whiskey is still not out at the end, calling him repressed is totally ignoring all of his character development

The endgame for some isn’t coming out to others, its finally accepting themselves

Whiskey isn’t out and proud just yet, but he’s more secure in his identity, and is starting to realize that his previous idea of “gay” isn’t what it means to everyone

He might be perfectly happy in a less public relationship with Chad L. (THEY’RE DATING, OK!!!)

He might be still dating his girlfriend (i personally think she's from canada (fake))

What he definitely is is more comfortable with himself than he was

I also think it’s nice that in this largely idealized comic, there is some realism. Not everyone gets the immediate happy ending. Some people are still figuring their shit out, some stories are still being written.

thank you for reading this very long rant I wrote a 1am haha

#connor whisk #whiskey #check please #cp #omgcp #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #pointdexter #nursey #lax bro #gay #lgbtq #analysis #comics #love #aftg #neil josten #skam #isak valtersen #eskild tryggvason

[oh-for-fic-sake]

A Witcher's Pack Chapter Two

The pack face the consequences of there unconventional rendezvous, good and bad..

Masterlist

Chapter One

A/n I've tried my best with this one, it might have a few more mistakes then usual as i have had a hell of a few days and been writing tiny bits at a time. I hope you like it and i caught things just right 😘xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Hints at miscarriage, Swearing ,A/B/O

Geralt sat across from the village leader not wanting to be so far from his mate who was fresh out of her twelve day heat, longer than expected but he was glad for the extra time after all he was trying to breed you with Jaskier. The man before him drew his attention from his thoughts .Beta. His jaw was locked and he was fuming. The so called witch was none other than his precious mate. They had called him to kill her. It took every ounce of strength not to claw off this mans face and rip out his throat. He continued explaining all the measures they had taken to ensure she couldn't 'corrupt' or 'enchant' the others. He seemed proud of how they had thrown a helpless terrified eleven year old child out into the cold, banished her to that shack with no prospects ,food or means to look after herself. His heart clenched painfully, she must have been so scared and confused the mere thought of what she had endured made his stomach churn feeling sick. He heaved deep breaths flexing his hands itching to rearrange the mans face .Permanently. The male across from him didn't seem to notice the warning signs.

"And now we have another alpha we cant risk him being lead astray by a-a filthy harlot! Witcher you must rid us of her she is useless, a waste of our resources and will soon begin to lure the men out to her. We aren't sure how it works but its defiantly coming, she caused his turning to be agony" Geralt growled slamming a heavy fist on the table the resounding crack of wood giving way silenced the man. He spoke low and gravely the growl laced in his voice showed how close his alpha was to the surface.

"You mean to tell me you put her through all that because you didn't understand what she was? She is not a monster. Shes not a siren or succubus. And she defiantly didn't make that boys turning painful, it is painful for everyone." He growled out the words loosing his cool as he continued as the truth of what they had done to you sunk in.

" You sit there so high and mighty aND YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'VE DONE SHE WAS A CHILD! SCARED AND ALONE AND YOU-YOU THROUGH HER AWAY, TREATED HER LIKE AN ANIMAL! SHE DOESN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE IS." Geralt stood breathing heavy. Tucking his head low taking deep harsh breaths. As the beta cowered before him.

"I will take her away and you will give me the coin for doing it, or I will inform the others not to take contracts for this village. And you will find yourself in a tricky position in spring when the migrations start."  The man sputtered unsure of what had caused the out burst.

"I-I you cant do that!?"

"Oh trust me I can and will we alphas take injustices against our true mates very seriously, especially us witcher's its extremely rare for us in particular. Once word gets out about what you've done to my mate they wont be so quick to aid you in the future." Geralt was pushing it, bending the truth to get what he wanted. The man looked shocked as Geralt announced you as his true mate realizing his mistake to late. He sighed defeated pulling out the coin pouch wanting the irritated mutant alpha out of the village. Geralt snatched it from him in one hand bringing up his other a swift fist across the face knocking him out cold on the floor with a nod humming in approval.  The beta was down. He'd get up in a few hours. Then he turned leaving the room heading quickly out to the shack occupied by his pack. Ready to gather them up and head back to kaer morhen for winter and to see vesemir he needed answers.

8 weeks later

You smiled contently walking along side roach Geralt sat atop her and Jaskier beside you. the last three months had been bliss ,the best of your life. Your new pack had taken care of you kept you fed with freshly hunted meat thanks to your new found alpha who could hunt and they kept you warm providing you with new clothes that shielded you from the harsh autumn breeze that was to come in the next week or so, You could walk through towns without being spat at or cursed out, most of the time when anyone tried you witcher mate would scare the shit out of them. It was nice when he did it made your tummy flutter and you'd blush as after each time he would wrap himself around you protectively. you slept beside a hot roaring fire each night falling to sleep with a full tummy and protection of the family. During your time with them they had told you grand tales of their adventures, Geralt you learned was the fabled white wolf from the songs and Jaskier a bard who wrote said songs and sang to you every night. Geralt had helped you understand all your instincts explaining that you were true mates and that your fast heat was just natures way for you to bond and that it was ok to feel the way you did , the idea of pack was foreign to you and it had taken some time to finally click. But when it did you were more at peace with yourself with your new found understanding. You was relaxed. You were content. You were going to be sick. You quickly ran of into the bushes crouching followed closely by Geralt patting your back as you wretched bringing up your afternoon meal. That both males had insisted on so you could gain a your weight back and you had filled out, now supporting a healthy pink glow like the one you had admired Jaskier for.

"Oh no is she ok? I knew she shouldnt have ate that tart earlier. It was to rich for her stomach!" Jaskier snipped quick to pull the waterskin from roach hurrying to pass it to you having Geralt snatch it from him with a short grunt and held it to your lips letting you take sips. You gasped after having the drink the wiped you mouth with the back of your hand.

"No I'm fine, it was ok, not sure what that was it came out of nowhere" Geralt stared intently at you then leaned forward taking a deep breath in his nose under your ear then pulled back with a groan then grinned wider then you'd ever seen. He laughed sweeping you up off your feet cradling you against placing kisses all across your face tickling your cheeks as his stubble rubbed lightly, Jaskier watched then quickly put it all together laughing running his hands through his hair.

"Geralt whats going on? what are you doing? put me dooown I don't want to be sick again." you whined as he slowly rocked you to and fro

"That's not an option I'm afraid.... Oh god.... My beautiful little mate....Sweet omega... Your pupped" you blinked not sure what he had said at first then your face dropped into shock.

"Wh-what? but I-you said we would have known by now...Th-that it would be a short pregnancy...five months Its been two surely I'd be showing? or that sickness would have started earlier" you were very confused Geralt held you with one arm placing his hand on your tummy, you'd admit that you were larger then when you'd met but they had been strict on your diet wanting you to gain a few pounds. Jaskier walked closer looking at you with awe. Pups. His pups in an omega. He couldn't believe it. Tears welled but he fought them back with a deep shuddering breath. Clearing his throat.

"Well with how skinny you were it'd be easy to miss, we have been trying to fatten you up." he reasoned Geralt hummed in agreement before continuing, still moving across you lower abdomen pressing lightly. It was hard, taught and defiantly bulging slightly but small however that could be due to a beta father, betas produced less pups at once but resulted in larger pups at birth, an alpha litter could be up to four pups at around five to six pounds at birth. Beta's normally had one at six to eight pounds. Pregnancy was shorter for omegas but varied depending on the father and litter size could be anything from five the eleven months. He took a deep breath.

"Yes and the sickness delay could be your body trying to give as much the the pups, you couldn't afford to be sick taking away the nutrition with how under weight you were" His only true concern was that he couldn't hear a heart beat, but he hadn't been trying to hear one he stopped trying a few weeks ago. You were placed on your feet contemplating their answers. Geralt knelt before you pressing his ear against your stomach hushing you and Jaskier as he listened. His eyes widened glancing at Jaskier who waited with baited breath, tense trying not to be to excited in case the worse should happen. You felt Geralt release a breath nodding once to Jaskier who flew over to you trying to place a hand on your tummy pulling back as he near lost a finger as Geralt snapped at him. You placed a slow hand in Geralts hair pulling him to look up at you. he gazed up at you his eyes full of unshed tears yet he blinked them back.

"One, a single pup their heart is quiet but strong. Fast. They are right here.... You did it... My beautiful girl you did it." he finished tilting leaving a light kiss on the small barely noticeable swell. standing up he yanked Jaskier in for a hug then bent him down pressing his ear so he could listen. Smiling the whole time. Proud his pack was growing.

In the following Months you had noticed a change. Geralt was pushing you all on faster his instincts driving him to have his pack home before the birth seemingly more and more desperate as your belly swelled faster than you though possible now looking very pregnant, heavy and round. Geralt shivered everytime he glanced at you , filled with pride, warmth that spread thoughout him you were glowing there was also something else , he had been territorial coming to blows with Jaskier more times than you could count. It upset you, how the once close pair seemed to be at odds with one another you caught in the middle, tho Geralt was your mate this was Jaskier's pup you had the unyielding urge to be close to him, scent him and have him coddle you and the unborn. Geralt chased him away each time occasionally out of camp completely. Anything could set it off  like handing you something you dropped as you could no longer bend down to reach it or helping you get your boots on or helping you get up. Once Jaskier had tried to help you climb on to roach you nearly slid off the other side and Geralt had nearly ripped him a new one it took you hours to talk him down. Literately his steel sword was drawn when you nearly hit the floor. You whimpered lying on your side it was night and you was tucked up between Geralt and a thick tree with dense bushes at its base, he had begun to place you tucked up like this at night he wanted you to have a nest each night. You winced moving from side to side rolling this way and that huffing you couldn't get comfy. You groaned being pregnant wasn't easy even for an omega, the past two days your back had gotten much worse cramping, you cringed you were only four and a half months gone Geralt said that you would most likely have another eight weeks or so because Jaskier was a beta  'great another Eight weeks of this' you huffed again lying still your mind wandered you was concerned your pup hadn't moved since yesterday morning , normally being near Jaskier encouraged them to be lively but it hadn't worked. Grimacing as your back hurt which wasn't anything knew you got up onto all fours slowly crawling form behind Geralt around him settling to lay near Jaskier pulling his hand from his side placing it on your little one....Nothing.. you whimpered worry wracked your body something felt wrong, different. You remained beside Jaskier hopeing that it would coax some indication that your pup was ok. You breathed through the aching twitches in your back trying to drift off in to sleep. Just as your eyes closed you heard him. Geralt. Eyes blazing as he scrambled up looking for you. You shivered and shrunk as he found you laying holding Jaskier's palm to your swollen tummy. He snarled stalking to you making to grab you away from the beta, you sat up and flinched as he reached out for you. Having enough, exhausted and upset.

"NO! Enough please alpha! enough, Something is wrong! their not moving I want him to feel his pup the get them moving I don't like them being so still please" Geralt hissed through his fangs angry as his eyes saw you frightened clutching at the Betas hand holding it flush an still. You called the pup Jaskier's. He didn't deserve it. It was HIS. The pup should move for him, not the beta the alpha. HE was the alpha. He seethed

"B-but he cant protect it!! I can protect it...I DO!.. IT'S MINE- I TOLD HIM TO PUT IT THERE!! BUT IT'S MINE!!!! YOU'RE MY MATE!! MINE!! NOT HIS MY OMEGA!" you shook at his words his shouting had woke Jaskier who was now quivering beside you. Geralt's breathing was labored reaching again for you he stopped short as the both of you ducked as if expecting to be hit. He looked at his hands lowering them backing away glancing at the both of you. What was happening to him?.  His pack frightened of him. He who had vowed to protect them. They cowered before him. His mate and brother. He stared noting a small wet patch below you. He had frightened you that much? he felt disgusted with himself turning to lie away from you both. You looked up slowly at him instantly feeling heart broken at the look of despair on his face. You nudged Jaskier motioning him to help you up. He did helping you up stopping as you cried out a sharp tug in your tummy forcing you back down to your knees huffing that was painful. You gripped Jaskier's hand tight.

"Wh-whats wrong? please is every-Are you ok? shit!"

"G-Geralt could you please?" Jaskier called desperately supporting you a quick glance at the alpha showed him lying a good distance, faced the opposite way he was brooding lost in his own thoughts ashamed. Jaskier soothed you helping you kneel seeing the wet spot through seeping through your skirts. You winced cupping your belly and cramping back. Jaskier panicked unable to pull away from you remarkably strong grip, you stared at him fear in your eyes as your stomach clenched tightly. It- you couldn't it wasn't even five months yet, you were- could you be loosing it? is that why you hadn't felt anything? you sobbed into your hand. NO!. You'd failed. Failed your alpha, your pack and yourself. you curled over head pressed to the dirt as your stomach was hard and twitching below your hand.

"GERALT! ALPHA?! HELP SOMETHING IS WRONG!" with Jaskier's calling him alpha snapped his attention, the bard didnt call him that often, normally when he was scared wanting reassurance, it happend when he fell into his baser instincts. Geralt rolled over panicked not even getting up he through his body hands and knees scrabbling across to your crumpled form. He forgot his previous despair now on high alert he sniffed around you as you withered shoulders moving with your sobs. He held out a hand placing it on Jaskier, comforting trying to ease his panic. He looked not sensing anything, he gripped your waist sliding you a little checking the moist earth below you no blood that was good, - he cut himself short, you'd said it hadn't moved he stilled.No no no no. His blood turned to ice in his veins it hadn't- couldn't have....You was to far gone!...You couldn't loose it now, fate couldn't be so cruel!. He closed his eyes hushing you desperately, Jaskier following his train of thought placed a gentle hand to your mouth trying to contain your Broken sobs stroking your hair and whispering reassuring you that it would be ok. You was to far gone, already mourning for the life you believed you'd lost, to wrapped up in your thoughts to hear anything going on around you. Concentrating all his efforts into listening Geralt lowered down by your bloated belly pressing lightly against it, hoping to hear that sweet sound he sighed when he heard a steady rhythm a heart beat so the pup was fine just- was it lower? OH SHIT he growled quickly jumping up taking you with him you whimpered as your body was moved yelping as your back cramped shivering as the pain soared through all of you nerves you could see as well as feel the muscles moving manipulating your pup around but you was unsure why. the bard followed anxiously

"Ge-Geralt?is it?"

"Jaskier go get the blankets from roach quick we need a nest it- she's- its coming!" Jaskier blinked frozen then began stuttering panicking. What?.

"NOW JASKIER!" he barked out snapping the bard out of it as he made his way back to the tree you had originally  nodding to the floor Jaskier spread out the blankets you had been collecting the past week each town and village you added to your collection. Some he rolled up to prop you against and others he haphazardly plopped here and there to be move as and when. You sighed as Geralt placed you on them you panted sweating feeling as if you were going to pass out form the pain.

"Geralt -is? are they ok? did I loose it I'm sorry I-" he cut you off kissing your tears.

"no no you didn't!.....You haven't lost them, they are coming now, early but healthy I can hear it" you flinched. Early? you- it was happening here? now? crying as another pain pulled your body tight. Jaskier ran back over with the water skin bowl and cloth fumbling with them pouring some water into the bowl soaking the cloth Geralt pushed up your skirts tugging you didn't have anything underneath due to your size you'd grown out of them. Jaskier bent one leg placing it beside his thigh as Geralt  held the other in the same fashion. You tilted your head back crying low as you realized just how low your pup had managed to get in such a small amount of time ,you felt uncomfortable full ,as they now sat just at your pelvis.

"I-I need to- Ahh!" you tried telling them that you needed to push, the urge was overwhelming as your body acted on its own digging your feet below you trying to ground yourself gasping as much air as you could before another pain hit holding your breath gritting your teeth as your abdomen contracted trying to squeeze out your child followed swiftly by a back cramp. It was brutal as your own muscles swayed you back and forth you were frightened grabbing blindly eyes shut tight as another wave hit you.

"sshh push if you need to" Jaskier placed your hand between his wincing as you dug your nails into his skin but kept quiet moving to dab your head and face with the cloth. You sighed at the cool water being wiped across you, a small relief. Before you was rushed into another quick contraction bareing down pushing again. Geralt placed a hand on either thigh pressing them further apart then moved his hand to where the pup now rested lower then a few seconds ago.

"Alpha? please." he froze your voice was strained and weak he moved closer kissing your head. Geralt was at a loss, there was nothing he could do but reassure you, he nodded to Jaskier.

"It's low get the knife and cord" he quickly grabbed the items dipping it in the water to clean it, the small blade curved maybe 3 inches with a tiny glyph carved onto it, protection Geralt had spent a day on it marking it perfectly, this was bought specifically for this moment. You screamed curling forward with the contraction sliding down flat on your back widening your feet arching as you felt a heavy pressure pass though your pelvis you pushed with all your might shouting loud into the night feeling a burning stretch before nothing...Your body relaxed you all but melted as your child vacated you lifting your head looking down taking deep gasping breaths. There was silence Jaskier gasped watching as Geralt froze holding the tiny pink child not knowing what to do, his face was one of awe, seeing that Geralt had Blanked. The beta jumped into action holding the soft thin cord around the umbilical cord pulling tight before severing the connection between the two of you suddenly there was a cry, loud and strong. Relief washed across the camp smiles all round, he sat back bending his knees resting his elbows holding his head tears streaming down his face. Alive, it was alive. You weeped at the sound. Your child was safe. Your body shook the aftermath of all the stress pain and adrenaline.

"Girl...Its a girl" Geralt whispered

"Ha you can tell with all the fuss she's making, defiantly a female" Jaskier quipped still rubbing his eyes leaning over to see his daughter. You watched holding your breath. Girl you had a little girl you couldn't look away as Geralt tilted the pup for him to see then stopped choosing to instead pass the tiny Child to her father then moved pulling a small blanket they worked together tucking it around her fretting over how covered and warm she would be. You sighed in relief any animosity that there had built was gone which was a load off mind ,your heart melted at the sight it would seem your daughter would have two fathers. Geralt smiled leaning up over you kissing you deeply then heaved you to sit up letting you lean against his chest. Jaskier moved up on your other side with the child. Tiny she was so small, smaller then you'd expected. Tears streamed down your face as you leaned your face against Geralt's chest he stroked your hair back kissing your neck

"So good omega... I'm so proud of you...Shes perfect...And healthy.... you've made me so happy" he was whispering into your ear but you couldn't make sense of his words . You was enraptured with your daughter, she was perfect you moved to hold her. Jaskier quickly placed her in your waiting arms as her cries died down then moved to the water bowl holding it out for Geralt who took the cloth wringing it out then began wiping her cherub face gently. She opened her eyes slowly unfocused eyes glancing here and there as you moved your dress wanting to feed her. You wasn't sure how but you managed to get her to latch quickly. Geralt nodded happy that she was feeding.

"I-I'm sorry for earlier.... I don't know what happened but it will never happen again" his words were stern controlled as he glanced at his family. Never again. you looked from your pup to Geralt then Jaskier there was a somber air that fell across you.

"You better start thinking of names. I don't have any I thought I had months still" you said dismissively. They looked at one another. Then you

"Who?" you smiled at Jaskier's small question

"Well my father named me and my siblings, so I thought it right for her fathers to name her so you best agree." the statement was designed to show exactly where you stood on the family dynamics for your child. Geralt looked stumped.

"But she is Jaskier's he should-" you shook your head at him

"No she is ours yours, mine and Jaskier's , she wouldn't be here if you hadn't allowed Jaskier to help. And if I remember correctly you held him still each time." they both scoffed before discussing names as you looked back down to the baby as she closed her eyes still latched on unaware of just how protected and cherished she was.

Taglist @havenoffandoms @ayamenimthiriel

#geralt of rivia imagine #geralt imagine #geralt x jaskier x reader #witcher geralt #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #witcher imagine

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - Sam - Back Door

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader.. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: Swearing, heartbreak, worry

Choice:  [You chose to sneak in through the back door]

Y/N = Your Name | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour | Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

---

“I’ll go around the back. With all the windows in this place I think I have the best chance of sneaking around unnoticed,” You finally spoke up when the silence had stretched on for long enough. Knowing full well that Sam wouldn’t make the choice for you as he squared his jaw stubbornly, worry painting his eyes a darker shade. 

Giving the overprotective hunter in front of you a tired sigh, you checked and rechecked the weapon in your hand and patted across the backup weapons on your body. Like you always did when the nervous energy coursed through your veins before a hunt. Rolling your shoulders, you pushed the air out of your lungs through pursed lips. Steeling yourself for the fight.

Time for a witch hunt. 

“(Y/N)...” Sam’s voice was only a low whisper next to you. But in his whispered version of your name you could glean all his reasoning. Every excuse he’d cooked up for you to sit the fight out, every half-baked plan leaving one door unchecked. And you wouldn’t hear them. Not when sitting out could end up with him hurt somewhere in that massive mansion. You’d promised yourself you would never abandon Sam Winchester. Even if he set those damned worried puppy dog eyes in you.

Even if you could never make yourself tell Sam how you felt about him. Letting him carry your heart safety pinned to his sleeve instead. You’d also never leave him. And that included leaving him to go fight the battles on your behalf. If he was a fortress, hiding a small, scared boy, then you would be damned sure to be his sentinel. Standing guard outside and ensuring that his walls weren’t torn down by the cold and unfeeling world you were forced to live in. 

“No Sam. We need all hands on deck. I’ll… See you in there, ok?” You sighed, giving the big guy a small smile to soften the words and the harsh way they’d left you. None of which was aimed at him. With your gun in your hand and your shoulders tense, you were already ready to fight, and that unreleased ball of tense energy had tainted your words as well. 

“Alright, just… Promise me you’ll stay safe?”

“Always Sam. I’m not going anywhere,” You were already moving when Sam spoke up, so you threw the words over your shoulder along with a bright, confident smile as you quickly backpedalled towards the Impala to follow the tree line around to the back. Staying out of sight from the house would be your best bet. 

Crouching low, you kept your weapon at your side as you ran for the trees. Even though your pace was slow, your pulse was racing. The beat of it heavy in your throat and loud in your head from the heat pouring through your t-shirt into your back. Your body was reacting to Sam’s eyes as they burned into you. The worry radiating out from them and caressing your back like feathery soft prayers for your safety as you kept your eyes on the woods in front of you. 

You had to keep moving forward, keep your eyes on the forest. If you turned around to catch those warm worried eyes, you’d just end up running towards him again. Back to where he was standing, sunshine eyes clouded in the uncountable what ifs that wouldn’t leave him until he was sure that Dean and you were safe. That you hadn’t left him in that achingly permanent way that every new hunt and every new monster tried to force you into.  

No, you had to keep your eyes on the green in front of you, not the hazel behind you. If not you’d be back by his side in a heartbeat. To have his back, as you should be, instead of running away from him. To be by his side, like your heart was.

Clenching your jaw, you broke into a quiet jog. The faster you got in the house, the sooner you’d be back to his side. 

--- 

Walking around the house took longer than you wanted it to. 

The farmhouse itself was large, sure, but more than just that, the grounds were fucking hellishly huge. They could have built the house three times larger and still not kissed the edge of the tree line. Which of course had made it much harder to sneak up towards the backdoor on a house that was at least 30% glass. 

The slightest wrong move could see you spotted by the witches and your whole plan ruined. So, you’d had to carefully move even further back than planned before following one of the few windowless walls back to the door you were meant to go in. 

As you pushed the heavy wooden door open, your shoulders stayed tense and your breath locked in your chest. The boys had to be inside already. But you’d heard no sounds or signs of a fight as you stealthily kept sneaking up on the house. And the inside was just as deathly quiet as the grounds had been. So, clearly your cover was still secure as you stepped into the beautiful kitchen. 

It was a stunning room; big and bright. Bigger even than your industrial sized kitchen in the bunker, which had all three of you (albeit secretly and all pretending you didn’t see the others) bouncing in hyperactive glee. Either at the thought of homemade burgers, Dean, something other than diner food for once, Sam, or the promise of home baked goodies, you. And it was also definitely a hell of a lot prettier than the steel on… Well, more steel, set-up in the bunker. 

The former owners had made the room bright and easy to navigate across, with barely any splashes of colour. Just a hint of bright pastels breaking up the whole room, and, from what you could see, the adjoining dining room. Clearly one of the former residents had been a fan of white. The room was the colour of fresh snow as far as the eye could see. 

 Called it; hell to clean.

You smirked to yourself at the thought as you scanned the room, keeping low behind the white kitchen island before walking softly towards the first door you spotted. It seemed to lead deeper into the mansion, so it was your best bet at finding Sam and Dean. 

Even just the thought of the Winchester brothers somewhere in the big mansion had your hand twitching around the grip of the gun. Your body wanted to run and find them, to find Sam, as soon as possible. But you knew you had a job to do. And you were a damned good hunter. You had to move slow, cover your bases. Witches were tricky; you needed military precision. Not the heavy pulsing steps and loud actions of beating love-sick hearts. 

No, for now you’d just have to remind yourself that you’d already slipped him your heart a long time ago. For situations just like this one, when you couldn’t be by his side. Safety-pinned precariously to his sleeve, just out of sight from the hunter’s bright, attentive eyes.

Stopping by the door you held your breath. Listening through the wood for any sounds. The house was quiet. But it did little to quell your worry and fear for Sam’s safety, for both the Winchester’s. Sure, you knew they could take care of themselves, but that didn’t stop you from worrying, from wanting them to be happy and safe, even when outside of the four walls of the secure bunker.

Dean was your best friend, you loved him like a big brother, and Sam was… Sam. The only man whose smile could wipe all the clouds from the sky and replace them with warm sunlight again. The strongest fragile and broken man you knew. 

You’d promised to make them a home, but Sam Winchester was your home. Though he still found himself searching for one. Unaware that both Dean and you felt the most comfortable, the most at home, wherever he was.

Shaking free from your worried thoughts you took a quiet breath, shifting your hold on your gun just enough to open the door a crack before placing your hand back on the weapon. Letting the heavy feel of it ground you as you steadied it with both hands you looked out into the hallway. Barely giving it a cursory glance before letting the steel toe of your heavy boots open the door the rest of the way.

Empty. 

Pushing out the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding; you kept your gun aimed steadily in front of you. Your finger resting on the trigger guard as you took a careful step into the brightly lit hallway.

It had been a happy home, you noted. Pictures of the two hex bag recipients were smiling down at you from the walls, all the way down the long hallway. Happy and in love. Unaware of the monsters that were coming for them. Clenching your jaw, you quietly seethed as your knuckles whitened around the gun. 

Two innocent lives, cut brutally short just because two damned monsters wanted a free AirBnB for a little while. You’d kill those damned bastards. And, if you could find some way to make it happen, you’d even charge ‘em the clean-up fee from their new little not-so-cosy homes in hell.

Witches like these were why you stayed in the business. You needed to make the world better, brighter... Safer. Both for the many civilians, sleeping soundly in their beds and going on with their lives, unaware of what was hiding in the shadows, and for the Winchester brothers. For Sam. 

With Sam’s bright eyes as your driving force, you quietly walked down the hallway. Keeping both your ears and eyes sharp as you moved towards the first door. The damned house was just too big. It would take a small eternity to check every room. 

Sliding against the wall, you kept your back flush with the cream coloured wallpaper as your hand reached out to carefully open the first door. Barely feeling the wood move under your fingers before you pushed off the wall and spun to face the room. Gun lifted and ready to redecorate some wicked witch’s face.

Study… Empty.

Casting a quick glance around the room you groaned internally. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with large mahogany bookcases. Filled to the breaking point with books. You really hoped the spell books weren’t hiding somewhere in that mess. It would be hell to go through all of those later. Either way, your temp job as a supernatural librarian would have to wait till you ganked the witches. 

Turning, you stepped back into the hallway. Continuing down it with increasing worry from the silence pressing down on you. The boys still hadn’t found them? How big was this fucking house anyway? Speeding up as much as you could while still keeping quiet, you kept walking. Looking into each extravagantly furnished room as you got to it. 

All empty. 

You only stopped in your stealthily frantic search when you noticed the door coming up to your right. Unlike the many others, this one had been left slightly ajar. Not good. 

Holding your breath, you kept your gun aimed at the door as you slowly approached it, nudging it fully open with your foot. Your finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Only when another empty room came into view did you move your finger back to the trigger guard and breathe an annoyed sigh at the game of hide and seek this hunt was quickly turning into.

No Sabrina the not-so-teenage squatter there either. But… Bingo. This was clearly their little ‘workspace’. What had once been a small home office had gotten a bit of a grotesque makeover. 

Jars of things you didn’t want to look too closely at were spread out across the desk along with different shaped bowls and unidentifiable tools. They’d dragged a small side table into the middle of the room, the carpet pushed aside to litter the floor with intricate runes and warding symbols. And, there, right out in the open for the world to see... 

Spell books. 

They really shouldn’t have. Your gracious, unaware hosts had made it too easy for you. Grinning you shot a quick glance at the open door before carefully closing it until it was left just a bit ajar again. 

Listening for anything out of the ordinary, you dropped one hand from your gun and unceremoniously picked up the brittle, old books. Placing them into one of the larger, more sturdy stone bowls instead. 

The bottom of the chosen bowl was coated in something dry and red that you really hoped wasn’t human as you scrunched your nose at it and busied yourself with finding the lighter fluid in the breast pocket of your jacket. Since the books were so easy to find. You could just as well take care of them before continuing the hunt. 

Two birds, one very flammable bowl of brittle paper and lighter fluid.

Dousing the books in a generous dose of arson in a can, you fought the urge to hum a little campfire tune to yourself as you fished the zippo out of your pocket. Flicking it open and on without any issues before dropping the whole lighter in the bowl. A waste of a perfectly good lighter, maybe, but you needed to keep moving and fast.

Your need for action was solidified just as the first flames licked up the spines of the old tomes. The sight of searing flames accompanied by a loud explosion of sound. The single gunshot sounded louder in the previously deathly quiet house as it rang out from somewhere deeper in the labyrinthian hallways.

Shit.

Casting one last glance at the flames tearing the spell books apart, you turned on your heel and ran. The faces of the two men in your life tattooed across panicked (Y/E/C) eyes as you hurried down the hallway towards the sound. It was just one gunshot. They’d be fine. They’d probably taken out the witch without much of a fight. But until you could see that with your own eyes, the heavy nauseous feeling in your stomach just wouldn’t let up.

It wasn’t hard to find the source of the noise. 

The wide-open door, near the winding staircase leading into the second level, was a clear sign as you slid to a full stop just out of view of whatever was happening in the room. Keeping your gun raised, you stepped closer. Ready to pepper the whole room in bullets at even the slightest hint at something being wrong. You weren’t taking any chances as you kept your breath steady against the onslaught of early panic and stepped into view of the room. Tense shoulders relaxing as your eyes, and gun, met with green eyes and a similar weapon pointed in your direction.

Once your best friend came fully into view you lowered your revolver with a relieved sigh. The dead witch by Dean’s feet a testament to what had happened as green eyes brightened to give you a cocky grin. Clearly you looked as frazzled as you felt, if Dean’s raised eyebrow was anything to go by.

Rolling your eyes at the hunter in front of you, you kept your focus on the dead witch. The man looked to be in his mid 30s. Perfectly ordinary in every way. If you looked past the bullet lodged in his brain that was. 

If this was the male counterpart to the pair, that meant the woman was elsewhere in the house. Since your briefing had made it clear that the two of them imagined themselves to be somewhat of a wicked Bonnie and Clyde duo. Thinking their love alone was reason enough to turn the world on its head.

“One down, one to go,” 

After the gunshot had clearly signalled that you were there, you didn’t even bother keeping your voice low as you casually stepped over the body to give your friend a quick hug. The seconds always dragged on and felt like small pockets of eternity whenever you had to split up with the boys on a hunt. Knowing your best friend was safe was already enough to calm your nerves a bit. Though the fact that Sam hadn’t come running at the sound of the gunshot was… Disconcerting.

No. You couldn’t let yourself panic. Panicking led to mistakes. Sometimes deadly mistakes. You couldn’t let your mind stray from the hunt that way. Hopefully he was just busy keeping the other witch away from you. Or maybe keeping to the shadows to catch her off guard when she came running for you to avenge the lover boy by your feet. Dean had, after all, put a permanent end to their relationship status…

Maybe you should petition Facebook to add a relationship status option for ‘currently avenging my evil, dead lover’? Considering you’d ended more than one relationship the permanent way, you knew a few monsters that would appreciate the option. Ok… So, your mind was spiralling, and you were definitely panicking.

“Jigs up. The other one had to have heard that…”  

Dean brought you out of your rambling thoughts, his eyes on the door as he spoke. Though the words were clearly meant for you, as there was still no sign of big hazel eyes and comforting smiles in the empty doorway.

“Let’s find Sam and clean house,”

You kept the worst of your fears out of your voice and your eyes away from the worried ones of the older Winchester by rechecking the safety on your gun. You both knew that the silence following the explosively loud gunshot couldn’t be good. But neither of you would vocalize it. No, you just had to find Sam. Everything would be fine again when you were all together. Everything was always fine when the three of you were together.

“You take the upstairs; I’ll keep going down here and come join you,” Dean’s voice was hard as he stepped towards the door. Ready to head down the hallway that snaked under the stairs and missing your quick nod as you hurried after him. Maybe splitting up wasn’t the best tactical choice. But the house was just too damn big, and you had to find Sam. Fast.

Trying to still keep somewhat quiet to not alert the witch of your exact location, you ran for the stairs. Even taking the steps two at the time, the damned winding staircase was an endless nightmare to your panicking mind. You would have been up in half the time if the original owners hadn’t tried so fucking hard to be bourgeois. 

Once you finally reached the top, you had to bite the inside of your mouth to keep from screaming out loud in frustration. Of course, the upstairs section was just as big of a mess of hallways and rooms as downstairs. Hadn’t the damned homeowners ever heard about open plan concepts? 

No choice, start searching (Y/N).

Sam would be fine. He had Dean, he had you. The two of you would never leave him behind. Sam had to be fine.  

---

You’d barely started looking through the first few rooms, and one accidental peek into a linen closet the size of your bunker bedroom, when Sam’s voice echoed down the hallway from somewhere far ahead. The swear words followed by your name and Dean’s were unmistakable and sounded heartbreakingly terrified. 

Something was very wrong. 

Forcing your body into action, you threw yourself down the hallway. Your breath sticking in your throat as you kept your gun drawn and aimed ahead of you. He was still breathing; he could still speak. That was all that mattered. You could deal with anything else. Now you just had to get to him. 

You weren’t even keeping up the facade of being quiet anymore as you let your boots hit the hallway floor with heavy panicked steps. Grateful for the thick carpet that was still somehow swallowing up the sound from your desperate sprint towards the man you loved.

Sam was afraid. That was all the driving force you needed. Your always strong and steady hunter with the kindest heart of any man you knew was afraid.

As you slid to a halt in front of the door that Sam’s voice was bleeding through, sounding more and more agitated with every broken shout of your name, you took a shaky breath. Hell, you barely even bothered steadying yourself as you aimed your gun. Saying to hell with slow, steady and quiet, you kept your gun aimed at the wood as you lifted a booted foot and kicked in the door. 

---

The weapon in your hands easily found the witch as soon as the door swung open with a violent crack against the wall. Clearly she’d been in the middle of a spell. Your grand entrance however, had shook her concentration as she looked up at you with angry eyes and a twisted sneer. Facing down the lethal steel pointed right between her eyes as if it was nothing more than a harmless toy.

But the vicious hatred in steel blue eyes barely even registered with you. Not when Sam was right there. Standing next to her, yet not attacking her or even fighting back. He wasn’t even looking over at where you’d just kicked the damned door in. His body was completely still with only his head moving, hands fisted into tight balls at his side as he looked everywhere but directly at you. Brown hair whipping around his face in his frantic search. 

As you watched him, watched the heart-breaking loss in hazel eyes, the realisation hit you like a straight punch to your diaphragm right before his words could. Forcing the breath out of your lungs as a choked groan. Sam couldn’t see you. 

“(Y/N)? Dean? Where are you!?” Sam’s voice sounded small and broken. Just a shadow of its usual strength as his eyes went straight past you, not stopping to take you in. Just the whisper of a broken boy, lost in the nightmares of his shadows. Abandoned and alone.

“Sam?” You could hear the frantic panic in your own raised voice. You knew it wasn’t good to show the damned bitch she had the upper hand. But watching the man you loved stand terrified and alone in the middle of the room, not even noticing the witch next to him that could easily end his life, you just couldn’t make yourself give a damn about hunter 101s and protocols. Nothing fucking mattered if Sam was hurting. 

But no recognition warmed hazel eyes at your words. His head didn’t even turn in your direction. It wasn’t that Sam couldn’t see you. He couldn’t even hear you. Sam Winchester was trapped in his own head, and none of your repeated, increasingly louder shouts of his name could break through the darkness that surrounded him. 

Sam was lost. 

Whipping your head around and ignoring the way (Y/H/C) strands stuck to your damp cheeks from tears you hadn’t even realised you were crying, you channelled all your protective fury and worried rage through your eyes and directly into the monster who did this to him. Your grip around the revolver tightened as your finger rested against the trigger. A silent warning that you could blow her brains out between one breath and the next.

“What did you do to him bitch?!” You didn’t like the broken, high-pitched tint to your voice. You’d wanted to sound threatening, not panicked. But it was hard to breathe around the heartbreak and Sam’s constant broken attempts of finding you through the darkness. Your finger twitched against the trigger, nearly making the gun go off in your hands as you took a shaky breath to steady yourself. You wanted her to hurt. A bullet to the brain was too quick, too easy, for her. 

“He can’t see you or hear you. He can’t see anyone he cares about… Or me for that matter,” The blue-eyed witch in front of you were smirking. The sickening smile on painted red lips nauseating when paired with Sam’s broken voice ringing in your ears. She thought she’d won. She thought she'd beat the Winchesters. 

“Fix. It. Right fucking now,” You spoke through gritted teeth as you took another step into the room. Letting your fury keep you moving as your eyes burned into the witch. Her overconfident smirk faltered as she flinched and stepped back when hit with the uncontrolled rage that was rolling off of you in searing hot waves. 

Perfectly manicured, fidgeting hands busied themselves with smoothing down the satin of her simple, elegant dress, ala 1950s Audrey Hepburn. Black, simple and timeless, paired with matching heels. Trying to keep up an illusion that she still had some semblance of control. It was the kind of dress women wear when going to war against the world. But paired with her terrified big eyes, the dress looked ill-fitting and out of place. Like a child playing dress up in boots way too big for her.  

“No can do… Call it an insurance policy...” The witch took a while to find her voice again and the strength to push back from the avalanche that was your protective rage. But when she did her words did nothing except infuriate you more as she trailed off in a scared whimper. 

Casting a quick glance in Sam’s direction you felt the trigger under your finger. Letting your eyes soften for just a split second as you watched him before turning hard as steel again when they shifted to focus on the witch.

Sam was trapped. His world had gone dark, stopped existing even though he was standing right there. In the same room as you. Calling for you, calling for Dean. Yet not finding you. Even if you were right there. 

Sam Winchester was lost in his own worst nightmare. Where everyone he loved had finally abandoned him. Like he always thought they would. It was killing you, shattering the heart still pinned to the lost man’s sleeve. 

And it was all her fault.  

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

What do you do?

[Run to Sam’s side] or [Kill the witch] 

---

Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!

---

#spn choose your own adventure #Sam Winchester #choose your own ending #choose your own adventure #samwinchester #choose your own path #Sammy Winchester #sam x reader #interactive supernatural #spn interactive #spn interactive story #sam x y/n #sam x you #sam winchester supernatural #supernatural sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #spn #supernatural #sam imagine #sam winchester imagine #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #sam fanfiction #sam fanfic #Sam Winchester Fanfic

[aj-anime-blog]

To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts - Review!

First review here we go!!

So, after being completely and utterly obsessed with Jujutsu Kaisen and AOT season 4, I decided to check out MAPPA studios and watch a bunch of stuff from their roster. My so-called "MAPPA binge" included this strange and unknown piece: Katsute Kami Datta Kemono-tachi e, or in English, To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts. An adaption of a manga originally released in Bessatsu Shounen (you might recognize this as the magazine that released Attack on Titan!), it looked pretty promising. I do have to admit that I didn't read a page of this anime's manga, though the art style on it looks gorgeous!!

The concept behind the show: A war has torn two halves of a nation apart, split into the North and the South. The Northerners, who were previously greatly outnumbered in battle, created a half-human, half-beast species known as "Incarnates" because of their God-like abilities. But the Incarnates begin having some issues when their beast forms take over their bodies, turning them into monsters. When the war ends, our protagonist, Hugh Hank, an Incarnate and previous captain of the Incarnate squad, swears to kill all of his mutating Incarnate buddies before they can destroy the world.

This review will not contain spoilers until the labeled "Spoiler" section at the bottom.

In general, what do I think?: 4/10, this show kinda sucked. Ouch! I hate being that blunt! Especially on my first review here! But To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts (let's call it TTASB from here on out!) had glaring flaws that, while it did hold up as a show, made it uninteresting and hard to love. Not only were the characters mediocre and boring, but the show seemed to contradict itself and its own opinion of the Incarnates all the time! Are they bloodthirsty monsters that need to be killed? Are they misunderstood humans who should be given peace? I don't know! Our main characters don't seem to either! Other than the "war bad" motif that gets shoved down your throat from episode one, the show felt stagnant in what it was trying to make the audience feel.

I hate being so cynical about it, though, because it does still earn those 4 points! Even though a lot of it falls flat, as a whole, it's still an ok show! Hank and Schaal have good concepts and their dilemmas are interesting in certain parts when the writers manage to nail pits and pieces of their development! The fight scenes were cool and I think that the concept for the world was neat! And the show does have a pretty cool title. Let's be honest, To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts sounds super metal.

So what about those characters?: 5/10! Hugh Hank and Schaal are our two main protags for the show, and they both have pretty interesting concepts! Hank is an Incarnate, he used to be the leader of the other Incarnates, and he made a vow with them that when they lost their minds, he would kill them himself. Schaal is the daughter of one of these Incarnates that fought under Hank. Interesting, right?! How could these two opposing characters get along with one another?

TTASB tries to give the two of them a sort of grumpy-old-mentor-teaches-a-cheery-youngster relationship (which, admittedly, is one of my favorite tropes) and manages to forget everything good about having this kind of relationship. To start, it feels like Schaal has next to no reason to be tolerating Hank, and vice versa. She follows him around because *insert some excuse about understanding the Incarnates?* and Hank lets her because *insert I really don't know*. It really feels like Schaal doesn't need to be there, and she's just a plot device to move along Hank's character development.

Then, the two of them never really interact in ways that really moved me. It never felt like they made a deeper connection that meant something to the plot. They interacted, sure. They spoke about their issues, yeah. But it never felt like Hank needed Schaal, or that Schaal was emotionally tied to Hank, until the show spoonfed it to you that they were.

In the end, neither of their developments felt compelling or interesting. There were a few scenes that maybe, if you squinted, hinted towards them growing as people, but for a 12 episode anime, it was very menial. It also felt like said scenes were fairly forced, with their development not really leading them to the point that they ended up at. Again, TTASB has a bit of an issue with contradicting itself.

The villain was so meh. He has a motive, yeah. It's pretty lame. He's not compelling at all. Nothing about him is interesting or kept me hooked on him. The show probably could've existed without him, to be entirely honest. I don't really have much else to say about him! I just did not really care about him at all.

The best characters in the show are hands-down the supporting cast of Incarnates. Each one has fairly interesting motivations, and even though they're only given an episode or so to tell their stories, they feel the most genuine. My biggest qualm with them is that the show doesn't build their connection to Hugh Hank at all, so when he gets emotional over them, you're kind of like "uhhh u know this guy??". More about this down in our spoilers section, as I'll go over a scene where this is prominent.

So characters were meh, but what about the story itself?: 4/10, just as meh. Again, very interesting! Lots of potential! But it fell flat where it mattered. To be clear, just before we dig deeper: the 12 episodes of TTASB isn't the entire story. It's clearly intended to be continued, though, as of writing this, I haven't been able to dig up any news about a potential season 2.

I don't really mind if animes aren't completely original, as long as they're fun, but TTASB didn't really do that. A lot of the episodes felt boring and reused like it was a watered-down copy-paste of other material. Some episodes were repetitive and seemed to be trying to hammer in the same themes, only to be later contradicted by other episodes. TTASB will spend a few episodes showing you how misunderstood and sweet the Incarnates are and then have an episode where an Incarnate murders a bunch of people. I would love it if it was, in any way, shape, or form, sarcastic, but it is not. TTASB just thinks it can get away with the blatant disregarding of its own morals. It only ends up feeling disconnecting and frustrating.

It follows an almost monster-of-the-week style format for introducing the Incarnates, which does them a bit of a disservice, in my opinion. I really would have liked it if there was a bit more overlap between the Incarnates and their stories! We know that they're all very close (or, at least, the show tells us that they are without really showing us) so seeing them interact with one another outside of their respective episode would've been fun!

The story tries to be darker and grimier than it actually is. I didn't end up caring much for the nation itself and much of the politics that the show tried to utilize felt boring and, again, watered-down. It felt like the show wanted to make it a political drama about war and human rights and only ended up shying away from what makes those genres impactful. Again, this isn't to say that TTASB's story is bad, it's just not as good as it could've been.

But it's MAPPA, so the art has to be good, right?: Yeah! Art was cool! Nothing golden, like MAPPA's newer stuff, but a solid 7/10! The fight scenes were nice, and even though a lot of them felt redundant to watch, they were still smooth! I have some qualms about a few of the Incarnates' beast forms (especially Hank's) looking like they belong back in 2001, but they still looked cool nonetheless.

I don't really have much to say on this front! Nothing really blew me away, but I never looked at the screen and winced away.

Ok and finally, pacing!: 4/10. 12 episode animes always have tricky pacing to them. I like to think about the show being pretty much only 5 hours long, which isn't that much time to cram in as much story and plot as they might want to. Overall, TTASB actually had pretty decent pacing, with a long enough build-up that led to a final showdown. If you ask me, I do think there was a pacing problem in the second half, as it felt far too stretched out, but that could've just been my perception of it.

My biggest issue with pacing loops back to the characters again. They're never really given time to explore or build up relationships. Especially not Hank and his prior team of Incarnates. I think that there should've been more screen time dedicated to their time in the army, to better explain the emotional distress that he's going through as he's forced to hunt them down. Instead, TTASB relies on a throwaway line or scene to deliver this emotional blow, and it nearly always falls flat.

Music!!!!: 6/10, The soundtrack in this anime really wasn't memorable and I don't remember much from it. Whoops!

I did like the opening a bit! It was done by Mafumafu, who I think has done a Pokemon intro song? Either way, it was energetic and fit the theme of the show well! The ending is also a bop, now that I'm thinking about it! It manages to be nostalgic and sad without being too slow! So good music on both fronts!!

OK, now we're in spoiler territory! Be warned!

I don't have too much to say regarding spoilers. Nothing in the show really feels important enough that I have to mention it under a spoiler tag. A few small notes, I suppose.

The show treats Hank like the more important character but then throws him away in his "death" to focus on Schaal, which was a very frustrating episode. Schaal felt so bland and useless in it, even when she faced her father again. Bringing him back to life felt like a sad excuse to force her into character development. I did like it when she found the courage to shoot him, but I also thought that it wasn't really as emotional as the show wanted it to be.

Hank's connection with Schaal, particularly in the second half, feels completely unnatural and forced. When she gets kidnapped, he has some sort of mental breakdown over her and it, if anything, felt creepy. It was undeserved and was forced down your throat rather than built.

Beatrice was the best character in the show and I think that if they stuck to ideas like hers (misunderstood creatures who just want to go back to their old lives), the story would have been much better. Instead, you switch to characters like the Gargoyle Incarnate, who just goes on a murder spree, and it ruins a lot of the development that Beatrice brought to the table.

& our deep deep look at one part: Forgive me if I get this screwed up a bit, it's been a weekish since I finished the show and my brain dumped out all details of it already.

Hugh Hank goes to the mountains and fights the Garmr Incarnate, Rex (Roy? I'm a bit confused on his name), in an epic show-down. Obviously, at the end of it, Hank wins, killing Rex. Now, if you're like me, you sat there for most of the fight going "who tf is Rex and why is this battle important?" and only at the very END, when he's dying, do you see a clip that you might remember from the very beginning of the anime, with Rex talking about Schaal. You go "oohhh I know who he is!" but you wished that you remembered this ten minutes ago when the fight started because it would've been so much more impactful. The show didn't remind you of this scene. It didn't tell you that Rex was this same person that you already met. It expected you to remember, and I didn't. This scene sums up a lot of the character problems with the show, where even if something does have emotional weight, the show doesn't act on it.

Now we're done!: Sorry if this was harsh, but that's my full review on To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts! I'd love to hear if you agree with me or think that I'm totally wrong! If you've read the manga, tell me if it's better or worth a read! And thanks for reading!

(The crossed-out "Hugh"s are all of the times that I got Hank's name wrong! I'm not super great with character names, but I always take it as a bad sign when I screw up the name. )

#anime #mappa #studio mappa #to the abandoned sacred beasts #to the abandoned sacred beasts anime #review #anime review